#you literally just got your clothes stolen and you got a shoulder sleeve in return

[intotheelliwoods]

One and Poptart outfit swap :] @dianagj-art

Not depicted: the absurd amount of knifes that feel out of Ones outfit when Poptart was putting it on, and the knifes that remained in the outfit that he found out about later.....

#2 arms left #rottmnt #kjdhfkjsdfn poor one im so sorry #you literally just got your clothes stolen and you got a shoulder sleeve in return #“my clothes got stolen and all I got in return was this sleeve” #poptarts going to have a fun time running around in that fit though hehe #poptart really got the better end of the deal here lmaoo #the besties

[delimeful]

neither calm nor quiet

BTHB: Trapped In A Net

warnings: miscommunication, past familial and domestic abuse mentions, injury, violence, terrible decision making skills

-

When Virgil finally decided to brave shallower waters, it had already been nearly half a moon cycle since Logan had vanished.

He’d made excuses at first, telling himself that the dread he felt was just his normal brand of overwrought paranoia. For the first few days, he was half-convinced that his curiosity-prone friend would appear at any moment, probably lugging some sort of stray litter or ‘interesting human artifact’ along with him to explain why he’d been late.

Things would be normal again. Virgil would find some rocks for them to sun on and Logan would ramble on about the potential uses of his find, and maybe Virgil would teasingly suggest some outlandish way the trash was secretly a violent human weapon, just to hear Logan thoroughly refute it.

After another three days passed with no sign of the other selkie, Virgil was forced to let that fantasy fade. Logan had never been this late before, not even that time he’d managed to carry an entire minifridge along with him for Virgil to identify.

Something had to have happened to him.

He’d spent the next week scouring the currents for any sign of his missing friend, even approaching other pods and asking around, requesting that they keep an eye out for any signs of Logan. He didn’t expect much from that; the two of them didn’t socialize with other selkies often enough to make any friends, and their two-person pod was too small to spare any food during winter, so there was nothing for the other pods to gain by helping them.

Virgil knew better than most how selfish pod politics could be.

Every few days, he would return to their meeting spot and catch a few hours of sleep to keep himself from crashing, always naively hoping that Logan would be there when he woke. He never was.

In the end, he had to face what he’d already known from the beginning: either Logan was dead, or he’d gone onland and gotten himself bound by a human.

He didn’t want to believe Logan had decided to brave the human world even after Virgil’s many, many warnings against it, but believing the alternative was even worse. So, he steeled himself to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do again, and headed for the cold, rocky shores of the nearest human settlement.

Naturally, he spent so long swimming back and forth between different stretches of beach, trying to force himself to take those literal first steps, that he didn’t notice the woven fibers dancing in the water until he’d plowed right into them.

A fishing net, dyed skillfully to blend in with the water, and large enough that when he tried to twist out of it, he only became further entangled.

Panic set in, then, clouding his mind and leaving him thrashing ineffectively like a simple animal. He couldn’t help it-- he couldn’t breathe underwater in either form, had no gills to keep him steady as he was dragged along by the current. He couldn’t untangle himself while adrift, couldn’t find solid ground while tangled. He would drown.

Between one blink and the next, he found himself in open air, gritty sand pressed against his face. Waves crested gently around him, a sharp contrast to the headache pounding around in his skull.

He never thought he’d be relieved about blacking out and beaching himself, but then, he’d never been worried about drowning in his own element before.

Okay. There weren’t any humans around to see the stupid idiot seal stuck on the beach. This was still salvageable.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to bite through the netting with his incisors, and got a mouthful of sore gums for his trouble. The dyed fibers seemed to be woven around a base net of fishing wire, because of course they were. He let his head thunk back to the sandy ground, groaning at the new surge of pain the motion caused.

Sun-warmed saltwater continued to wash over his tail, and he blinked slowly, measuring his breaths. He could figure this out. He wouldn’t dry out. He just needed a moment to put himself back together. He could… He…

His eyelids grew heavy, and everything went dark.

-

Roman thought the guy was a pile of garbage at first, to be quite honest.

Not on purpose, of course! But, come on, when one sees a mound of mystery washed up on shore, it generally ends up being a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around half-rotted driftwood, not a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around beautiful strangers wearing expensive-looking fur coats!

His next thought, once he’d gotten closer, was that the beautiful stranger wearing the expensive-looking fur coat was dead, and that a body had washed up on his little strip of shoreline. Pallid skin, blue lips, and deep shadows under their eyes-- the beautiful stranger wasn’t exactly giving off an aura of vim and vigor.

He’d spent a few moments staring at his contact list, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do about a body. Should he call 911? … Should he call Remus?

Before he could make a decision either way, he finally picked up on the shallow rise and fall of the beautiful stranger’s chest, and realized that they were still alive! Potentially not for much longer, laying out in the cold all soggy like that, but Roman could work with mostly alive!

And so, he found himself here, carefully carrying the small but surprisingly dense stranger up to his home by the cliffs, and risking looking like a total serial killer doing it.

He couldn’t help but theorize as he walked. A beautiful stranger in expensive clothing, tangled in nets with what appeared to be a head wound… It read like an old unsolved case in a detective novel, where the mysterious stranger in question got in too deep with some dangerous people and ended up clubbed over the head and dumped into a river to tie up loose ends.

“Except you managed to survive, obviously,” Roman said to them, mostly to reassure himself. He really had to stop eavesdropping on Remus’s true crime podcasts. “And you made your way to me! Excellent choice, I’m great at nursing people back to health. Probably. I don’t have much practical experience, but, you know, I’ve read extensively about this exact thing. In romance novels. As one does.”

The beautiful and mysterious stranger continued to be unconscious. Roman was starting to feel grateful for it.

His house was empty, thankfully, since his brother had work to attend to today. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before pushing the door open and carrying the stranger inside, sighing with relief at the warm air.

“That’s got to feel much better, hm?”

He sat the stranger down in the foyer, removing his shoes to go grab some scissors from the kitchen.

“First order of business,” he announced in his best announcer voice, “getting all that netting off of you. While I’m sure you could rock fishnet leggings, fish nets on their own just don’t have the same je ne sais quoi, you know? Also, they look very uncomfortable. You’re great at staying still, so just keep that up.”

He carefully cut his way through the looser parts of netting, pulling it off piece by piece until all that was left were the abrasions where they’d formerly cut into skin. Roman had no idea how they’d even managed to get that tangled up, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It couldn’t have been pretty.

In the process of removing the net, however, he’d noticed another rather pressing matter.

Going by the flash of thigh he’d accidentally witnessed while shifting the net around, the stranger definitely wasn't wearing anything under that fur coat of theirs. Like, nothing.

(Exactly what kind of situation had the stranger been in before this?!)

Even so, leaving them in a sodden coat couldn’t be good for their constitution. Or his poor couch’s upholstery.

Roman spent a few moments puzzling the situation out before coming up with a brilliant solution. He retrieved the fluffy gold comforter from his bed and draped it over the stranger, covering their front half with it. Then, he carefully worked their arms out of the coat’s sleeves, very pointedly not focusing on the adorable freckled shoulders this operation revealed. Finally, he tugged the entire coat out from behind them, wincing at the slight furrow that appeared in their brow.

“Sorry, sorry, I know the cold floor can’t be comfortable…”

Soggy coat removed, he was free to continue bundling the rest of the comforter around the stranger’s back, therefore making it easy for him to pick them up in a neat little bundle of blanket and deposit them on the couch. No nudity awkwardness required!

Pleased with his solution, he draped a fluffy towel over the stranger’s head and carefully dried some of the dampness from their hair. Next, he wasted no time in stoking the fire higher in his hearth, sending waves of warmth into the room and making it so the stranger’s skin didn’t look quite so clammy.

Once he’d cleaned up the mess left in the foyer and grabbed the first aid kit from under his sink, he planted himself in a chair next to the couch, feeling ready to handle anything.

“Okay, Google. How do I treat a head wound?”

-

Virgil felt as though he’d woken to a nightmare.

He was in the wrong body, surrounded on all sides by heavy fabric and warm air, and his coat was missing. That list of facts alone was just about as bad as any night terror he’d had.

The humming was unusual, though.

A soft tune, occasionally broken up by a half-muttered lyric or two, carried through the air, voice completely at ease. His mother had never sung to him in front of others, and it sure as hell wasn’t his father.

He tried to remember where he’d been last. The back of his head stung… he’d ended up on a beach? The tide had been turning, from high to low… He must have dried out up there, changed into his less durable form. And now he was warm and dry.

He clenched his fists weakly and grit his teeth, knowing that a human had found him and stolen him away. Just like his mother. He’d come to find Logan and lost himself before ever even starting. Typical.

“Are you with us, Sleeping Beauty?” a bright voice asked.

The humming had broken off while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and now he could hear the shift and rustle of movement next to him. He opened his eyes, already aiming the coldest possible glare at his captor.

He was sort of surprised to find that the human sitting at his side wasn’t holding his coat. His father used to make a point of handling his mother’s coat at any opportunity. He’d liked to watch his mother stare at it, resting assured that so long as he held it in his possession, she could do him no harm.

This human was much younger than his father had been, probably around as old as Virgil was now. He had dark skin and soft eyes that reflected the firelight, and he was smiling hopefully at Virgil.

“Hello there! It’s excellent to see you looking a little more lively! I was starting to think about actually calling the hospital, heh.”

Wordlessly, Virgil slowly shifted to sit up, shoving the thick blanket out and shaking the cloth from his head. He looked down, confirming what he already knew. No coat. The human hadn’t even bothered to dress him up in human trappings to ‘make up’ for the absence.

“Ah, yeah... I sort of basically pulled you out of the ocean and what little you were wearing was completely soaked.” The human rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I figured it’d be less of an invasion of privacy to just let you get dressed yourself once you woke up?”

Oh, the human was worried about his privacy? What a joke.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly!” the human continued, oblivious to Virgil’s rising ire. He gave a mocking little bow, pretending to respect the one he’d abducted. “My sincerest apologies.”

He was done playing along with mind games like these. Better to let the human know where they stood right off the bat.

“I’m going to kill you,” Virgil promised, and then lunged for the human’s jugular.

To his genuine surprise, he actually made contact, hands clamping onto the junction between collar and throat. The human let out a high-pitched yelp as his chair toppled over, taking both of them with it.

Virgil landed knee-first on the human’s sternum, and paused to blink down at the wheezing stranger, who apparently had been so confident in the weakness of his victim that he hadn’t bothered to bind Virgil from harming him in advance.

Unless.

His grip loosened slightly, just in time for the human’s fist to catch him squarely in the mouth. He threw himself backwards, rolling with the force of the motion to get some distance and hunkering in a crouch. It had been too long since he’d been active in this form, his sense of balance was in shambles.

The human scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the back of the chair, eyes wild. He thrust it out between them like a barrier, as though it could prevent any more strangulation attempts.

“What is wrong with you?!” he shrieked, voice cracking as his gaze flickered back and forth between Virgil and some far off point. “I tenderly nursed you back to health, and your response is to try and murder me? Unfair! Cruel! Rude!”

“Where is my coat?” Virgil replied, voice hoarse and split lip stinging. A test, because humans were tricky and loved to lie.

“Your— your coat?” The human pulled up short, head tilting slightly in a bewildered manner. A convincing actor, if nothing else. “Is that what all this is about? I put it on the coat hanger to dry! I know better than to try and wash someone’s fancy fur coat without permission, yeesh.”

A low warning growl in the back of his throat, Virgil turned his gaze from the current threat and followed the gesture the human had made.

Sure enough, there it was. His freedom, draped on a peg in the open with all the rest of the human’s fabric outer layers like some common garment.

“Do you… want me to get it— eep!” The human lifted the chair back up in paltry defense as Virgil snarled at him. He rose up and crossed the distance to his pelt in five wobbly strides, before the human could try and return it to him and lock them both into a loveless marriage.

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he quickly wrapped his second skin around him, that grounding weight settling back where it belonged. He still couldn’t shift back, not here, but the ocean was close enough to taste in the air.

The human was still huddled defensively by the fireplace, looking indignantly bewildered and not at all like he knew he’d just given up the perfect opportunity to control Virgil.

Which meant that-- barring some incredibly convoluted scheme-- he really had no idea. And Virgil had tried to strangle him, even if under false pretenses. He drew the edges of his pelt closer around him, rolling the beginnings of an apology around in his mind.

-

The mysterious stranger was still glaring at Roman like they were contemplating continuing to try and strangle him to death at any moment.

He’d brought a half-drowned stranger into his home and tenderly treated their injuries, and what had he received in return for his efforts? A murder attempt, which now that he thought about it was maybe an outcome he should have considered earlier. Remus would never let him live this down.

Assuming he lived long enough for his brother to give him shit about it, that was.

The stranger seemed to at least be a little calmer now that their reclaimed coat was thoroughly wrapped around them, rendering them more lump-shaped than person. Roman felt much more secure in glaring back, too.

He set his impromptu shield/chair down firmly on the floor. “I have no idea what your problem is, Gloomy B. Jones, but where I’m from, the response to someone saving you from dying of hypothermia is ‘thank you’, not a strangulation attempt!”

The murderglare intensified. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Yes,” Roman said, disbelieving, “because you were too busy being unconscious. On the beach. In 40-below temperatures!”

“That’s my problem, not yours,” the stranger responded snappishly.

Roman threw his hands in the air, but his impending frustrated rant was impeded by the sight of a stifled flinch running through the stranger. Feeling a stab of guilt, he lowered his arms slowly before continuing.

“It seems I made it my problem when I dragged your soggy self all the way to my house, so--”

“Great news for you, then: I’m leaving.” Baring their teeth in a distinctly unfriendly manner, the stranger turned to do just that.

“Hold it!” Roman called, alarmed. “You’re going into town like that?! People will think you’re a flasher!” Even his brother wouldn’t go out dressed in nothing but an oversized coat. ... Probably.

The stranger paused, squinting at him warily. Roman took it as a cue to continue.

“Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot here. Several wrong feet. Let’s try again. I’m Roman Faroe, I work for the local newspaper, and you are…?”

“None of your business,” replied the stranger, with all the stubborn petulance of a toddler digging their heels in and refusing to move whilst smack dab in the middle of an overcrowded supermarket.

“Would you like me to call you ‘Almost-Corpse-I-Dragged-Off-The-Beach?’ Perhaps make up a thematic nickname or two for you? Because let me tell you, this is exactly how you get called--,”

“Hold on,” the stranger cut him off, a realization seeming to dawn on him, “did you say you worked for the news?”

“Yes, I mean, the newspaper not the news. Although I’m sure I’d make an excellent anchor,” Roman gestured to all of himself for effect, “my true passion lies in my carefully curated romantic advice column!”

“So, you get all the information in town,” continued the stranger, who had a strange glint in their eye.

“I mean, if you want to be a nerd about it.”

“How about this.” The stranger stepped forward, straightening out of their defensive slouch for the explicit purpose of being just tall enough to loom over Roman. “You want to know my name? I’ll tell you, if you help me track down something important that I lost.”

An investigative quest for a mysterious MacGuffin? Roman swallowed, feeling his heart flutter wildly with what felt less like intimidation and more like excitement. He could totally keep his cool, he just had to open his mouth and say something suave.

“I also want to know your origin story,” he opened his mouth and babbled instead.

The stranger narrowed their eyes for a moment, and Roman belatedly remembered the near-strangulation. Perhaps he shouldn't be agitating a femme fatale type, what with all the emphasis on the fatale.

To his surprise, it only took a moment before they capitulated, sticking a hand out. “Fine. After my thing gets done.”

Roman shook gladly, trying not to shiver at the cool touch. Had they checked to make sure the stranger wasn’t hypothermic yet? “It’s a deal, then.”

“Great.” They twisted on their heel, stalking to the door. “Let’s get this over with, already.”

“Hold on there, Surly Temple.” Roman called, hand on his hip. “I hate to break it to you, but if you go into town mostly naked, the only news we’ll be hearing about will be your immediate arrest.”

The stranger glanced down at his attire, and then released the door handle with a low sigh. “... Pants first?”

“Pants first.”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts roman #selkie AU #bthb #bad things happen bingo #writing #my writing #neither calm nor quiet #ncnq #oneshot #... theoretically #disclaimer: do not do anything roman does here #he is a lucky fool #logan is fine btw #theoretically. #i feel like im forgetting tags. well whatever #selkies

[wheresmynaya]

Lost in the Lights Ch.15|Brittana

A/N - Thank you for being patient and still leaving behind your reviews! The struggle to write continues so I think next chapter will be the final one. Thanks for sticking it out with me 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut

The first thing Santana notices when she awakes is that it’s too damn bright. It’s kind of ridiculous how bright it is – like there’s no logical explanation for why anyone would be okay with waking up to that – but then she remembers something.

This isn’t her room.

She knows as much because Santana likes to keep her room as dark as possible during the early mornings and this is the complete opposite. But that’s not the only thing out of place. Everything feels different; the bed is softer, the blankets are warmer, and it’s like the pillow she rests her head on has been infused with her favorite scent: Brittany.

The smile forms without thinking and suddenly she doesn’t care all that much about the equivalent of a million flashlights being beamed at her eyelids – she might be exaggerating a little there – because this isn’t her room.

It’s Brittany’s.

Despite not being a morning person in the slightest, Santana’s always been the first to awake at sleepovers for some reason. Maybe it’s her body’s way of letting her know that she isn’t in her usual surroundings, but for once she just wants it to chill. She always hated having to wait until everyone else woke up, but she finds that she feels a little differently this time around.

While it seems like the rest of Lima still sleeps, Santana takes the quiet moment to admire her girlfriend. Because before, when she’s out there in the world it sometimes feels like she has to be guarded about it – her glances are usually stolen, her smiles are small and secretive.

But she doesn’t have to hide here.

Brittany’s blonde hair is all over the place while one arm drapes lazily over Santana’s hip and the other is crooked above her head. She’s sound asleep with these soft little snores escaping slightly parted lips and it makes Santana smile. Brittany swears she doesn’t snore even though Santana has heard it on multiple occasions over the phone, but it hits differently now that she’s actually here and can see it for herself.

If anything, it just makes Santana want to kiss her even more.  

She doesn’t though; it feels like it’s still way too early for anyone to be awake so Santana let’s her sleep while she continues to admire. She has rarely been able to be this close to Brittany without feeling overwhelmed by everything so it’s nice to be able to do this now.

Watching someone sleep has always sounded so weird to her and she’d judge anyone hardcore for doing it and yet here she is doing the exact same thing, only now she gets it. To be so close that she could count every little freckle dotting Brittany’s cheeks, it’s almost like being caught in a dream.

Santana runs the back of her finger along Brittany’s cheek and it’s like the touch solidifies that this is real, that it’s actually happening. A year ago, even six months ago, Santana would not have imagined this kind of reality for herself. She figured after everything that went down with Dani and all the drama with Bree and JBI, she wouldn’t find happiness until she had put Lima far, far behind her.

How wrong was she?

Santana glances to Brittany and she has to stifle a chuckle because this girl; this beautiful, talented, amazing girl literally just appeared one day and her whole life changed. Really, everyone’s did. To have a female quarterback leading the Titans and actually doing it well was something no one saw coming and it amazes Santana. Of all the people Brittany could’ve set her eyes on, she chose her.

And the same goes for Santana.

In all her daydreaming, Santana hears Brittany let out a sleepy sigh before she’s tightening her arm around Santana’s hip. The blonde snuggles in close, her head sliding off the pillow and instead nestling against Santana’s chest. The brunette smirks at that – if it weren’t for the little snores returning, she would’ve thought Brittany had woken up.  

Instead, the brunette gets cozy too. Maybe if she closes her eyes, her mind will stop and sleep will find her easily once again?

\\

The next time Santana awakes, it’s to Brittany pressing gentle kisses all over her face. As she begins to stir, the kisses get quicker and sloppier until Santana’s giggling for Brittany to quit it.  When the kisses finally pause, Santana cracks an eye open to find Brittany hovering over her with this goofy grin on her face.

“You really want me to stop?” Brittany asks devilishly.

Santana’s only answer is to wrap her arms around Brittany’s shoulders and pull her down for a real kiss. She can feel Brittany’s smile as their mouths move and she can’t think of a better way to wake up – if only they could do this every morning.

“Good mornin’,” Brittany mumbles against Santana’s soft lips.

“Mhmm,” Santana replies happily.

Once they pull away, Brittany moves to keep herself hovering over Santana. It’s a risky move because Brittany’s strong arms tense in the most distracting way, not to mention how Brittany’s baggy sleep shirt hangs loose around her torso – meaning Santana can see that she definitely isn’t wearing a bra.

“It’s a very good morning,” Santana flirts.

“Hey,” Brittany teases when she catches on then rests back on her heels.

Santana pouts at the lose of a great view and it makes Brittany giggle.

“Careful,” Brittany jokes as she taps on Santana’s bottom lip, “Might get stuck like that.”

Santana rolls her eyes playfully at the jab before smiling, “Did you sleep well?”

Brittany nods, “I should sleep in more often. I don’t usually miss a morning run.”

“God, you do that on the weekends too?” Santana scrunches her nose cutely, “Gross.”

Brittany chuckles, “It’s always Leg Day, baby!”

Santana knows it was meant to be a joke judging by Brittany’s sing-song tone but hearing Brittany say baby reminds her of last night and she can’t fight a smitten little smile from forming. If Quinn could see her now, a constant smiling fool, the teasing would be endless.

Santana doesn’t care though, she might even put up with it if that means she gets to keep Brittany.

“You’re crazy,” Santana ends up saying to cover up the obvious adoration. She doubts it works judging by the soft expression on Brittany’s face too.

“Hungry?” Brittany asks a second later, “My mom’s making breakfast.”

Santana feels reality starting to set in and their little bubble beginning to burst. She knows they can’t hideaway like this in Brittany’s room forever, but it would kind of be nice to.

Nevertheless, she sits a little straighter and nods, “Yeah, starving.”

\\

The couple venture downstairs awhile later after brushing their teeth and changing into warmer clothes. All that means is Brittany opted for fuzzy rainbow socks while tossing Santana one of her hoodies that was always a little too big for her. Santana has to roll the sleeves twice for it to sit comfortably while Brittany teases her for being so tiny.

“Mornin’ girls!” Whitney greets when the pair make their way into the kitchen.

Whitney’s definitely been busy as the entire island counter is covered in various plates stacked with different flavors of pancakes and bowls filled with blueberries, strawberries and chocolate chips. Other toppings surround a long wooden cutting board and Brittany’s already poking around for a snack.

“Good morning, Mrs. Pierce,” Santana greets politely while Brittany steals a strawberry from a small bowl.

“I see the couch was empty this morning,” Whitney comments cryptically in Brittany’s direction.

When Santana glances to Brittany, she can see the blonde’s face go red and blue eyes dart away from Whitney’s.

“I – well,” Brittany stammers, “It gets cold down here at night...”

Santana’s eyes go wide. Was she not meant to stay in Brittany’s room last night?

“Uh-huh,” Whitney gives her a knowing look.

Brittany smiles apologetically, “Sorry?”

Whitney only shakes her head and nods to the counter, “You two hungry?”

“Yeah, but I only said Santana was sleeping over, not the entire school,” Brittany jokes as she pops the berry into her mouth.  

“I know,” Whitney laughs before flipping another pancake, “I might’ve gotten carried away. I saw this thing on the internet called a pancake board. It’s like one of those fancy cheese platters but pancakes. I figured I’d give it a try. How’s it look?”

“Amazing,” Santana compliments, “Way cooler than any breakfast I’ve ever had.”

“You’re too sweet,” Whitney smiles and swats at Brittany’s hand going for another berry, “Leave some for the rest of us.”

Brittany backs off with a chuckle and Santana finds herself grinning too. This family dynamic is so different than what she’s used to and it kind of catches her off guard to be in such a laid back environment. Growing up, breakfast at the Lopez residence was far and few between with her parents’ work schedules. If they were miraculously together, they’d usually just go out to somewhere fancy with a dress code.

She starts to feel a little fidgety and asks, “Did you need any help?”

“I should be finishing up in here soon,” Whitney answers, “Maybe you both can clear a space in the living room and check on Pete while you’re out there. I haven’t heard him in awhile, make sure he isn’t up to anything.”

“You got it, mom!”

Santana nods too and follows after Brittany to the living room, confused as to why they won’t be eating at an actual table.

“You didn’t tell me I was meant to sleep on the couch last night,” Santana mentions softly.

Brittany just shrugs, “I was meant to but no way I was gonna stay down here by myself.”

“Chicken,” Santana teases.

“Says you,” Brittany smirks before calling out for Pete when she finds the couch empty but the cartoons still playing on tv.

Santana looks around the room too; no sign of Brittany’s little brother anywhere.

Brittany lets out a playful sigh and nudges Santana to play along, “Bummer, he’s not here. Guess Santana and I will just have to eat all the pancakes by ourselves!”

“Wait!” Pete shrieks before he pops out from under a stack of throw pillows. The expression on his little face goes from shock to excitement when he sees that Santana’s standing alongside Brittany, “Santana’s here?!”

Santana’s never seen someone so excited to see her – apart from Brittany – and Pete’s rushing towards her with a giant grin on his face. He throws his arms around her as soon as she’s in reach and Santana doesn’t know what to do but stiffen and look to Brittany for an explanation.

Brittany only laughs, “I might’ve told him you were coming over later today for lunch.”

“You’re here so early!” Pete beamed as he looked up at her, “You going to have breakfast and lunch with us too?”

Santana bites her lip at his excitement and the adoring look Brittany’s giving her.

She’s never been too fond of being around kids, she’s never known how to act – she still doesn’t, but Pete’s different. He’s actually cool and Santana finds it starting to get easier to interact with him the more time she spends around the Pierces.

“Looks like it, P,” Santana ends up replying coolly with a ruffle to his hair before sinking down to whisper to him, “Also heard that you might be the Monopoly King around here.”

“I am,” He responds proudly before puffing out his chest, “You wanna challenge me?”

Santana smirks, “Maybe after breakfast.”

When Pete’s smile widens, it looks like Santana’s just made his entire day. When she glances over at Brittany, it looks like she has just made her entire day too.

\\\\\

It’s a total back to reality moment for Brittany as she pulls into the McKinley High student parking lot on Monday morning. After the blissful weekend she had, she never felt so bummed about it having to end for the sake of going back to school.

Spending all that time with Santana was just…perfect. She fit in so well with her little family – even Pete was begging for Santana to stay a little while longer after winning a second round of Monopoly. But all good things must come to an end, at least for a little bit.

It’s the beginning of a big week for her though so she at least has that to curb her slight grumpiness. The Championship game is this Friday which feels like the culmination of her entire high school football career. She hasn’t been putting too much thought into it – too wrapped up in her new relationship with Santana and the rivalry between the Titans and the hockey team – but now that it’s all starting to come to an end…she feels a little sad.

Playing football has always been something that has made her feel closer to her dad. It’s something that he exposed her to when she was young and it blossomed from there and it should make her feel proud because she has come so far thanks to him, but it makes her feel like a chapter is closing.

A chapter she started with her dad and ended…without him.

She quickly pushes those thoughts away, not wanting to get caught crying in her car by Santana – or even worse by someone random. No, she has to seek out the positives because that’s exactly what he would’ve wanted her to do. He would’ve told her not worry about him, this is all about her and she should feel proud of her accomplishments.

It’s easier said than done lately, but she just focuses on her dad’s wise words of wisdom and prepares herself for a busy, busy week ahead.

\\

For the most part, it’s smooth sailing for Brittany.

On Monday there was a quiz in her History class, but she was actually prepared for it so it didn’t stress her out too much and she was confident that she did great. On Tuesday, her Astronomy class got back their graded assignments and Brittany surprised herself with a perfect score – the only one in the entire class.

Santana was so proud of her for that one that they skipped their study session at Elliott’s to instead make out in the back of Santana’s car. Brittany remembers how they giggled like mad afterwards because Santana had to turn on the screen defroster, it was that foggy inside.

This week, Brittany felt like she was on a roll and that reflected during football practice as well. The quarterback nailed every throw – even the trickier ones where the defense applied extra pressure. Although it was only practice, her passer rating must’ve been through the roof because she was doing so well with her completions.

But it wasn’t just her, the entire team was doing exceedingly well too. After the stunt they pulled last week in the cafeteria, the Titans seemed to be more united and that showed in the way they practiced. Sam and Mike hadn’t dropped one pass yet and you couldn’t strip the ball away from Puck if you were the strongest person on Earth.

Anyone with eyes could see that the Titans wanted this Championship win, that practiced that hard. Brittany’s teammates were putting in extra work in the weight room and staying later after practice ended just to get in a few more catches.

Everyone was determined as ever and that pissed the hockey guys off even more so. But like always, Brittany opted for the higher road. She wasn’t going to stoop down to their level – no Titan was going to – and she just hoped that they’d eventually take the hint that they weren’t going to be intimidating anyone any time soon.

\\

By Wednesday, the anxiousness over the big game starts to settle in. The school is all a buzz about the possibility of Brittany and the Titans ending this Championship drought. Any other day, that buzz would leave Brittany feeling giddy but the pressure of winning and the sadness she feels about this chapter coming to an end is louder.

She knows it’s not exactly where her head needs to be right now, but she can’t help it. This storm cloud has been brewing for awhile and she has done her best to keep it at bay but it was only a matter of time before she stopped being able to outrun it.

Miraculously though, she isn’t the only one that has noticed the shift in her mood.

\\

Brittany’s sitting in the cafeteria, surrounded by all of her friends and teammates while she slowly picks at her lunch. Usually by this hour, she’s starving but not today. It’s not that she has lost her appetite because she loves chicken patties but she’s just not feeling it. She can tell Kurt and Mercedes are talking excitedly about something and Brittany wishes she could focus enough to be apart of the conversation but all she hears is noise.

It’s almost like she’s caught in a daze and everything’s moving around her like usual but she’s stuck in slow motion. It’s a weird feeling, one she hasn’t experienced in a long time – maybe since she moved to Lima.

No one notices either, not until someone fills the seat next to her.

“Hey B! I got you something,” Santana says cheerfully.

Brittany goes to glance in her direction but her smile isn’t quite as bright as it usually is and that’s enough for Santana.

“Are you okay?” She asks as she slides the gifted pressed juice onto the table.

“Is that for me?” Brittany asks instead and nods to the juice, similar to the one Santana brought her at the beginning of the year.

Santana looks between the drink and Brittany, “Yeah. Figured you might need the energy boost. I remember you saying this morning that you had some trouble sleeping last night so I stopped by the Cheerios lounge before coming here.”

Brittany smiles adoringly at her. It still surprises her how caring Santana can be. It’s enough to distract Brittany from her troubles for the time being. How could anyone think about anything else when her girlfriend is the most thoughtful person in the world?

“You’re too sweet,” Brittany compliments as she squeezes Santana’s knee beneath the table, “Thank you.”

Santana just shrugs her shoulder bashfully, but their little interaction is enough to gain the rest of the table’s interest – specifically Kurt and Mercedes.

“I had my suspicions but I couldn’t be sure,” Kurt comments behind a playful smirk, “Not until now.”

Santana quirks her brow and Brittany frowns in confusion.

“Really?” Mercedes looks at him with this unamused look on her face, “I clocked it the day she came to sit with us. Cheerios don’t ever break rank.”

Brittany starts to catch on and glances to Santana again to see her reaction because so far the only people at school who know about them are: Quinn, Mike and Sam. And apparently Kurt and Mercedes have a bit of a reputation for being the school gossips so if they get a hold of this it would be public knowledge now.

Brittany’s heart beats a little quicker as she continues to watch Santana.

“Don’t assume,” Tina scolds the both of them before smiling at Santana and Brittany, “Although you two would make a really cute couple.”

Brittany blushes while both of Santana’s brows rise. Brittany has no idea what to say to and she can’t tell if Santana’s about to beat Tina with her lunch tray or laugh. She’s hoping it’s neither; she’s hoping that Santana would want to tell the truth. Santana has been doing so well so far, why wouldn’t she?

It’s a long pause afterwards where everyone just waits for an answer from either Brittany or Santana. Brittany’s waiting on her girlfriend to take the lead but she wonders if Santana’s doing the same too.

“So are you?” Kurt asks; cutting through the silence and right to the chase.

“Well,” Brittany starts uneasily, “We – “

“Yes,” Santana answers without wavering, “We’re together.”

Brittany’s jaw just about drops and so does everyone else’s.

“This is outstanding!” He cheers, “I’m – “

“Hold up,” Santana raises her finger, “No matter how excited you are or whatever, this is not your business to tell. It’s ours – as in me and Britt – not you. Don’t go throwing us a rainbow themed party or build us a Pride Parade float to have us chauffeured around on. That’s not how we’re doing this.”

Kurt’s lips part but Santana cuts him off again then eyes everyone at the table down – excluding Brittany of course.

“Every single person that knows so far knows because we told them and because they know how to keep their trap shut about things that aren’t theirs to share so if this were to get out before we decide, I know exactly who I’ll be going after,” Santana warns before straightening up, “Believe me, you don’t want that. These Puck Heads and their lame ass slushies have nothing on what I’d do.”

Kurt, Mercedes and Tina all gulp. Santana just smirks.

Brittany looks back and forth between everyone uneasily – halfway turned on by how assertive Santana was just then and also a little guilty about threatening her friends. Then again, when it comes to this she guess a little tough love might be in order.

“Stay in your lane and we won’t have problems,” Santana adds in a friendlier tone, “Understand?”

Brittany’s friends just nod in unison.

“Great talk,” Santana grins before turning her attention back to Brittany with this sickeningly sweet smile on her face, “So B, how’s your day been so far? ”

Brittany’s a little speechless at first but then she lets out a chuckle before answering Santana’s question.

\\

The rest of lunch goes on smoothly. Santana and Brittany talk about their day so far and what assignments still need completing. They make plans to go to Elliott’s again this weekend to study together – like actually study this time and not…do other things.

That’s when Puck goes to stand on his chair to apparently make an announcement.

“Puckerman, get down!” Mr. Phillips scolds.

“Just a sec, Mr. P, I’ve got to say something,” Puck tells him.

“Do you need to stand up there while you say it?”

“How else will everyone hear me?” Puck shrugs.

Mr. Philips narrows his eyes.

“I’ll be super quick,” Puck assures him.

“Fine,” Mr. Philips rolls his eyes and wanders away.

Brittany and Santana pull away from their own conversation long enough to see what’s got him so worked up. They aren’t the only ones listening in though, Rick and the hockey guys linger nearby too.

“Listen up! So everyone knows the Titans are going to kick Carmel’s ass this Friday, right?” Puck asks and everyone within listening distance cheers loudly.

Mr. Philips turns and gives Puck a glare.

Puck just smiles apologetically before continuing, “It’s history in the making, our parents didn’t even experience this shit, so I think that deserves celebrating. The Titans deserve celebrating! This has been a great year for us – mostly thanks to Pierce over there.” Puck points over to Brittany and everyone cheers again for her.

Brittany gets a little bashful around the applause but even more so when she finds Santana smiling at her so proudly. If she knew any better, she’d think Santana was about to kiss her.

“Without her, I don’t know where we’d be. No offense, Hudson.”

Finn just shrugs, seemingly unaffected by the jab.

“So in saying that, I only know how to celebrate one way,” Puck smirks, “Victory party at my place after the game! Everyone’s invited except those losers.” Puck nods over to Rick and starts to laugh when he sees the hockey guys getting pissed.

The Titans all pound the table as Puck gives an approving nod to their response before making his way off the chair. Brittany laughs at the display while Mr. Philips rushes over to quiet the team down.

“Puck and his parties,” Santana comments with an eye roll, “Looks like you guys better win.”

Brittany sighs playfully, “No pressure, right?”

“What? I thought you work well under that?”

“You’d know, wouldn’t you?” Brittany smirks and Santana gasps at the suggestion.

Brittany just laughs as she watches Santana’s cheeks grow a little darker.

\\

By the end of lunch, Santana and Brittany have to go their separate ways instead of walk together to their next class. It’s something about Santana needing to stop by Ms. Pillsbury’s office before so they part ways at the cafeteria exit.

It’s no big deal. Brittany uses the time instead to head to her locker and drop off all the books she won’t be needing for homework later. Maybe if she doesn’t have to carry as many, she can help Santana carry hers?

The thought makes Brittany smile before she’s closing her locker and heading to class.

Like any other day, she takes her usual route to Ms. Holliday’s classroom. She walks past her History class from this morning and spots Sam getting settled at his desk. They wave at each other before Brittany continues on. She passes a corridor and another block of lockers before turning down the hall, only this time someone waits for her there.

Well not someone…as in singular.

“Sup Pierce,” Rick nods while his usual two guys flank him.

Brittany feels the atmosphere shift so she stands a little taller.

“Hey,” Brittany nods. She notices they each have a hand behind their backs and she can already guess what’s coming.

It all happens in an instant. One moment she’s minding her own business heading to class and the next she’s drenched from head to toe in red slushie.

“What the hell?!” Brittany snaps as she wicks slush from her face.

“Equal treatment, right?” Rick sneers as he and his guys toss their emptied extra large slushie cups at Brittany’s feet where red slushie is already starting to drip off of her.

Brittany’s too cold and shell-shocked to even say anything more, but what leaves her speechless is seeing Karofsky and Azimio watching the whole thing from behind them. Brittany waits for them to jump in, to give her some type of back up here…but they don’t.

They don’t say a word. They just turn and leave.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Pierce. Some things you just can’t change around here,” Rick says, “Football’s reign was over the moment they enlisted you as their quarterback.”

“Yay, girl power!” One of his guys jokes before they leave Brittany standing there.

She can’t tell if her brain is completely frozen by the slushie or if she’s just too angry to move. All she does is stare down at her feet, watching the slushie pool around her once white Converse.

She thinks about Azimio and Karofsky and how they turned their backs on her and she’s never felt so hurt before. Which is saying something because she was literally tackled to the ground because of them, but this is different. They aren’t on the field and to see them walk away like that just shows how horrible they actually are.

“Oh my God,” Someone says and it breaks Brittany from her whirling thoughts.

When Brittany looks up, she finds Quinn searching her with worried eyes.

“Are you – ” Quinn starts but she sees something written all over Brittany’s face and stops. Instead she puts on an apologetic smile, “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up before it stains.”

Brittany thinks she nods but she isn’t sure. She doesn’t start to move until Quinn’s hands are on her shoulders, coaxing her along.

\\

The bathroom is just on the other side of the block of lockers Brittany and Quinn were standing next to and Quinn quickly gets to work wetting a paper towel. She hands it to Brittany so that she can wipe her face.

Now that she’s starting to regain some feeling, Brittany begins to get angry. She’s kept her cool for so long, let everything roll off of her but this? A line was crossed so she doubts she can be as forgiving.

“I can’t believe this,” Brittany says as she slams down a wad of soaked paper towel into the sink.

Quinn looks somewhat surprised by the outburst but nods anyway, “At least it’s not the blue one. That’s the hardest to get out.”

Brittany shakes her head as Quinn passes her more paper towels, “I can’t believe people are still like this. I can’t believe Azimio and Karofsky just stood there. I’ve never met so many guys who just refuse to accept a little change. I’m not even doing anything radical here! What’s the fucking problem?”

Quinn drops her hands to rest on the sink as she listens. Brittany’s fuming but what surprises her most are the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She blinks furiously to keep them at bay because she has sworn to never shed a tear over this crap and she doesn’t want her first bonding moment with Quinn to involve her tears.

So she takes a steadying breath, “It would be one thing if the Titans weren’t winning, but they are. We’ve broken records together and I’m leading them to a Championship after how many years? Why isn’t that the focus for these people? Why does it matter that I just so happen to be a girl? Why is that an issue in the first place?”

Quinn lets out a sigh and shrugs, “The hockey guys are idiots. I don’t think they even know which narrative they want to pick. Is it because you’re a girl? Is it because you’re a Titan? Is it because you’re winning?”

Brittany lets out a frustrated sigh.

“They’re going to be Lima Losers for the rest of their lives while you’re out doing bigger and better things. You aren’t meant for this place, Brittany, they are and that’s why they’ll never leave. They’ll never evolve. Why do you think anyone with common sense wants to run as far as they can from this place? No one wants to be a Lima Loser and those that don’t care about becoming one – like the Puck Heads – aren’t people you should lose any sleep over.”

Brittany nods. She remembers a conversation a long time ago about Quinn wanting to go to Yale because it was so far from Lima. She always wondered why anyone would want to leave their family like that, but maybe their families are made up of people who refuse to evolve like Quinn said. She thinks about Santana and her dad and how Santana’s one of those people who want to run too.

Brittany didn’t really get it before, but she does now.  

“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” Brittany mentions while Quinn continues to fuss over her. It makes her chuckle despite everything and she wonders if she’s like this with Santana too.

Then she remembers something.

“She would’ve been with me,” Brittany mumbles out the realization. Quinn gives her a confused look, “Santana. We usually walk together to our last class but she went to see Ms. Pillsbury this time. She would’ve been with me. They would’ve gotten her too.”

Quinn shakes her head and lets out a dry chuckle, “It did not go over well when they slushied her the first time. I doubt it would go over well if she were there this time.”

Brittany frowns, “She’s been slushied before?”

“Yeah. Last year,” Quinn’s expression grows somber, “Shortly after everything came out.”

Brittany feels like she’s been gut-punched as she starts imagine what that must’ve been like for Santana. She can just hear the comments Rick would’ve cooked up and how small they would’ve made her feel. It infuriates her even more and plans of retaliation start to piece together.

“You want me to text her to bring you a change of clothes?” Quinn asks upon Brittany’s silence,

Brittany looks to Quinn through the mirror and shrugs, “It’s fine. I’ll be okay for one class.”

Quinn raises her brow and it’s funny how similar the expression is. She wonders if she got it from Santana or maybe it was the brunette that rubbed off on her.

“You can’t walk around like that,” Quinn says, “Your clothes are soaked through and your letterman jacket is already stained.”

Brittany looks to her sleeves and frowns, “Crap. I can’t afford to buy another one.”

“Don’t worry, I can sort that for you,” Quinn adds casually, “I know a guy, owns the best dry cleaners in Lima. Technically it’s the only dry cleaners but he’s great. You can get it back in time for the Pep Rally on Friday.”

“Oh,” Brittany replies. She’s not really used to this kind of interaction with Quinn. Not because they don’t get along or anything, but because they’ve never really had the opportunity. It’s kind of nice, Brittany thinks. She’s glad Santana’s had a friend like her all these years.

“Look, it’s not a big deal,” Quinn says with a smile, “I think I have a pair of warm-ups in my locker and I’m sure Santana’s bound to have something in hers too. You can at least be more comfortable for your last class.”

Brittany finally nods, “Yeah okay. You can text her.”

Quinn only smiles in return before she’s reaching for her phone.

\\

Santana practically comes running into the bathroom with a stack of clothes under her arm. Her expression goes from hurried to concerned when she finds Brittany leaning against the counter with her clothes stained red.

“Shit,” Santana gasps and throws the clothes at Quinn. As soon as she’s close enough, her hand goes up to cup Brittany’s cheek, “You okay?”

Brittany leans into the touch and smiles, “Yeah. I’m fine. Just frustrated, I guess. I’m glad Quinn was there though. I might’ve done something stupid if she wasn’t.”

Santana nods and whirls around to Quinn, “Who did this?”

Brittany goes to cut in but Quinn’s already answering.

“Who do you think?” Quinn replies, “Karofsky and Azimio were there too. Not with them, but they didn’t exactly do anything about it either.”

“Son of a bitch,” Santana snaps as she starts to pace, “That motherfuckering fuck! I’m going to load up on slushies, see how he fucking likes it. Or maybe I’ll use something worse like…like dry ice.”

“Where are you going to get that from?” Quinn asks while Brittany looks on worriedly.

“I don’t know, Q. I’ll figure it out!” Santana brushes off, “I swear, I will go all Lima Heights and they’ll regret the day that they decided, that they even thought about doing this to – “

When Santana turns to Brittany, she pauses upon seeing the blonde’s expression.

“Please don’t,” Brittany says.

“But –“

“No more fighting for you,” Brittany tells her sternly. She pushes off the counter and goes to run her hands down Santana’s arms calmingly, “I don’t want you to get into any trouble over this, over me.”

Santana’s jaw tenses. She looks conflicted, “You can’t let them get away with this, Brittany.”

“I won’t. I told my guys no more slushies or fighting, I can’t go back on my word now just because I’m angry. I’m not going to feed into this bullshit.”

Santana shakes her head, “No. Now is not the time to be diplomatic.”

“It’s also not the time to get even.”

“She’s got a point,” Quinn mentions from behind them. Santana glares at her while Brittany gives her an appreciative nod.

“Listen,” Brittany says softly to Santana, “I know you’re angry, baby, I’m angry too. I’m really, really angry but I was always taught that you can’t act on anger. Violence doesn’t solve anything, we have to go about this differently if we want there to be actual change.”

Santana relaxes just a little more, “I’m more of a punch the crap out of them now and ask question later type of girl.”

“I know you are,” Brittany smirks, “I’ve got something in mind for Azimio and Karofsky. Just let me take care of this.”

“Fine,” Santana lets out a deep sigh, “But if I come across any of them off of school property it’s fair game.”

“I,” Brittany starts before she relents with a smile, “Okay.”

“Maybe you should get changed, Britt,” Quinn steps forward to offer the clothes.

Brittany nods and takes the stack, “I’ll be just a sec.”

Santana nods too before leaning in to kiss her cheek.

\\

When she comes out, Brittany’s wearing Quinn’s pants and Santana’s Cheerios jacket. She glances at herself in the mirror and chuckles.

“Feels weird not wearing a shirt under this,” Brittany comments.

“You didn’t have an extra shirt?” Quinn asks Santana.

Santana shrugs, “I just cleaned out my locker yesterday.”

Brittany looks to the Co-Captains and replies, “It’s okay. I only have to sit through one class anyway. Speaking of which, we’re all super late.”

“Ms. Holliday will understand,” Santana says before looking to Quinn, “You on the other hand are screwed.”

Quinn rolls her eyes and Brittany instantly feels guilty.

“Crap. You wouldn’t have been late if you didn’t help me,” Brittany says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Quinn brushes her off, “I’ll just get Ms. Pillsbury to write me a note. I’ll see you guys later.”

Surprisingly, Quinn gives the both of them a hug before she’s on her way.

Santana raises her brows at it but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she looks to Brittany and smirks.

“What?” Brittany asks as they head out of the bathroom too, “Do I still have slushie dye on my face?”

Santana chuckles cutely, “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Santana slides her arm through Brittany’s and gives it a squeeze as they walk in the direction of Ms. Holliday’s classroom, “I’ve seen plenty of girls walking around here wearing someone else’s letterman jacket, but I’ve never seen someone in another girl’s Cheerios jacket before.”

Brittany looks to Santana and chuckles, “Yeah? How’s it look?”

Santana just grins, “Hot.”

Despite the weight on her shoulders, Brittany can’t help but laugh.

\\

By football practice, every single Titan knows what the Puck Heads did and they are pissed. Brittany worries that they might have an all out brawl afterwards and that’s not what anyone needs right now. She does her best to keep the peace still even if she’d also like to punch Rick in his dumb face.

“I’ll talk to their Coach,” Coach Beiste says in hopes to calm the team down, “Their behavior is unacceptable and I’m sick of no one dealing with it. Don’t worry, Pierce, there will be repercussions to their actions.”

Brittany nods, “Thanks Coach.”

“I just can’t believe they went after Pierce like this,” Finn snaps.

“I bet they waited until she was alone,” Puck adds, “Just like the punks they are! They wouldn’t dare go after her if we were there.”

“We should’ve been with her,” Mike says to Sam.

“But our classes are on the opposite side of the school?” Sam frowns.

“So? Britt needs a security detail.”

“No I don’t,” Brittany cuts in, “I don’t need a security detail like I’m the President or something. And I wasn’t alone.”

“Wait, what?” Finn looks confused, “You mean Quinn?”

Brittany shakes her head, “No. I mean Azimio and Karofsky were there.”

“What?!” They both snap.

Coach Beiste looks at them expectantly, “Is this true?”

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Karofsky tries to lie, “I wasn’t – “

“Don’t,” Brittany stops him and turns back to the team, “Why would I lie about this? What would I gain by throwing half of my O Line under the bus? They were both there and neither of them did anything, but is anyone surprised?”

Mike glares at them, “Nope.”

“Not even a little,” Sam adds.

“I’m really disappointed in you two,” Coach Beiste says, “What the hell were you two thinking?”

“What did you want us to do?” Azimio tries to defend himself, “She’s got that stupid no slushie policy in place!”

“You could’ve asked if she was okay? You could’ve gone to get a teacher. You could’ve let me know so I could talk to their coach? Literally anything that would’ve made you look like a team player, that would’ve shown that you care about everyone on this team.”

Azimio and Karofsky look away guiltily.

“You have proven to me and everyone on this squad time and time again that you aren’t team players and I’m done. There is no room for that kind of behavior here,” Coach Beiste says with a kind of finality that makes everyone perk up.

“Wait,” Karofsky pleads.

“I’m done with the excuses and this was the last straw!” Coach snaps, “You’re both off the team.”

“But the Championship game is in two days!” Azimio implores.

“I know when it is!” Coach replies loudly, “And you know what? I’ve got a friend from Ohio State coming to watch too. Maybe he’ll pick some of you up, but not you two.” Coach turns her steely gaze on Azimio and Karofsky, “You two will be watching from the stands – if I even allow that.”

“But – “

“Go!” Coach tells them both firmly, “Clean out your lockers and leave.”

Neither of them say another word and sulk off of the field. Brittany just stares wide-eyed. She didn’t think Coach would go that route – actually she wasn’t sure of the route at all – but she’s glad this was taken so seriously. Those guys have been skating by for so long, she’s glad something’s finally being done about them.

“Anyone else not want to be a team player?” Coach asks.

No one makes a sound.

“Okay good,” Coach smiles, “Now about this recruiter from Ohio State. He’s a good friend of mine but he’s hard to impress. Very high standards so play well because Cooter just might be your ticket into OSU.”

Brittany’s heart rate spikes. She’s heard of the possibility of a recruiter attending this game since the beginning of the season, but now that she knows it’s actually happening she needs to be on her A game. She needs to push everything else aside for now and focus on football and winning this game because –

“Wait,” Finn says with his signature dopey, confused look, “His name is Cooter?”

Coach Beiste nods.

“Cooter…the Recruiter?” Finn adds and Puck’s already snickering.

“That’s unfortunate,” Kurt jokes flatly and the rest of the team starts to chuckle.

“Cut it out,” Coach warns, “We’re going to be training harder than ever for the next couple of days. I’m extending practice for two hours in preparation for the rest of the week. We’re not getting this far only to lose. That’s not an option for us.”

Brittany nods; she’s right about that.

#Lost in the Lights #Brittana #Brittana Fanfiction #QB!Britt #Remember when I could pump out a chapter once a week lol good times

[stareyedplanet]

Birthday Surprises [p.p.]

•••••••••••••••••

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!reader Summary: Peter takes time from saving New York to spend time with you on your birthday, and he’s got a few surprises up his sleeve to make the day truly special. Notes: this is a very self - indulgent fic considering it is my birthday today, so seriously, do not come at me. you have been warned. even still there are like no descriptors. i think i mentioned he runs his fingers through her hair? maybe she blushes? i honestly can’t remember. i don’t really reread and edit soooo… and he picks out her outfit if that ruins your creative ability idk. people be weird sometimes. anywho, any feedback is appreciated other than the stuff i mentioned. Warnings: pure fluff, maybe a kiss or two Word Count: 2,348 ••••••••••••••••• You had never really been one to celebrate your birthday in the past. When you were younger you had a few parties, but as you got older birthday plans just seemed to fizzle out into nothingness. It always made you a little sad, but that was probably because the last birthday party you had you ended up sobbing at. Yeah, maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t have a birthday party after that. You didn’t have very high expectations for the day, since to you it was just another day and another year. Your life wasn’t going to dramatically change because you were a year older. Really you just thought that maybe you would see Peter in between his patrols, and you’d put a candle on the little cupcake you got yourself. But Peter Parker had other plans.

He knew that you never really celebrated, but he wanted to make the day special for you. To him, you deserved one special day dedicated to you — really you deserved every day to be special and dedicated to you.

He couldn’t be more thankful for such a perfect and patient girlfriend. You never complained when he canceled on a date, or when he went on patrol so long you only got to see him a few minutes. Any time he ever had a cut or a bruise, you would sit him down and patch him up, always putting on a brave smile to cheer him up, even if he knew you were always terrified you would lose him. But you never let it get to you. You were always there for him and never showed signs of backing down.

So he was determined to make today special for you.

It was early when he was knocking on the door to your place, a sweet smile lighting up his entire face. He took in your appearance, still dressed in an oversized shirt and baggy sleep pants. Your hair was a mess around your face, frizzy and unbrushed.

This wouldn’t do.

“What are you doing? You have to get dressed! We have a busy day, come on.” Peter coaxed as he walked into your place, pushing you towards your room.

“Peter? I thought you would have patrol this morning?” You said, clearly confused as to what the boy was on about. Not that you were unhappy to see him. You loved being able to hang out with Peter longer than normal.

“Nope. Today is all about you, angel,” Peter grinned, kissing your cheek as he pushed you into your room before going to the dresser and pulling out an appropriate outfit. And by that he meant jeans and his old Midtown sweatshirt you had stolen ages ago.

“What are you doing?” You laughed as he pushed the clothes into your hands before turning his back to you so you could get dressed.

“Tik tok, Y/N,” he sang, waiting patiently for you to finish getting dressed. He knew you were done when you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his back and just inhaling his scent.

“Can’t we just stay in, Peter? Seriously, I don’t need anything big.” You argued quietly, nuzzling into him more.

Peter turned around in your arms and kissed your head, playing with the ends of your freshly brushed hair. He just swayed with you for a minute before he shook his head.

“Nope. My special girl deserves a special day. Come on, you’ll love it, Y/N. Trust me…” Peter said, giving you sweet puppy eyes. You could never say no to those eyes. Not really.

“Fine, I trust you Peter. But promise we can just come here and watch Lilo and Stitch at the end of the day?” You asked him, looping your arms around his neck.

Peter gave you an Eskimo kiss, nudging his nose against yours.

“It’s on the plan, angel. I promise. We’ll have cuddles and movies later.” Peter assured you, pressing his lips against yours quickly. “Now are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” You agreed finally, grabbing your phone and keys, slipping each of them into their normal pockets.

Peter laced his fingers with yours as he led you out of your apartment and down to his car, helping you into the passenger seat before climbing into his side. He subconsciously reached over and buckled your seatbelt before giving you a sheepish look of apology. He knew you didn’t like it when he did that. Sure you thought it was cute that he was worried about your safety, but it borderlined him being overly worried and protective.

But today it didn’t seem to bother you. In fact, you smiled at him and just shook your head in amusement, which made Peter’s face brighten as well. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove to the first location of the day. Breakfast. He watched as you began bouncing in your seat when you realized where he was pulling into.

IHOP.

You absolutely loved the place, but you hardly ever got to go. And Peter clearly knew you if this was where he was taking you for breakfast. He once again led you inside and you all took your seats.

“Come on Peter, tell me what else you have up your sleeve for today?” You asked him, leaning across the table to talk. You batted your eyelashes at him, hoping he might tell you what else he had planned.

“Nope, it’s a surprise, Jellybean,” Peter grinned. He wasn’t usually good at keeping secrets but he was determined to make sure he didn’t let a single thing slip.

Before you knew it you two had been there for two hours, laughing and talking and teasing. You were sure you could have sat longer but Peter had someplace else for you to go and began to usher you out.

You waited patiently in the car as Peter drove, his hand returning to it’s spot on your thigh, the other controlling the wheel. You bit your lip as you looked at him, hoping your stare down might get him to crack. It didn’t.

This drive was a little longer than the first one, so you knew you weren’t headed back to either of your places.

“Peter, where are we going?” You whined quietly, hating surprises. But you trusted Peter.

“You will see. Jeez, be patient, Angel,” Peter laughed quietly, squeezing your thigh gently.

You tried for a while longer to get it out of him but ultimately gave up, leaning your head against the window to watch the buildings passing by. It was thirty minutes later when Peter told you to close your eyes.

With an amused smile you placed your hands over your eyes, waiting patiently for Peter to park the car, come around to your side and help you out. He then led you around while making sure your eyes were closed. Peter was so excited to see your reaction. He had gotten help from Mr. Stark for this one, so he really hoped you would like it.

You two eventually stopped and Peter moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Open your eyes.” He whispered to you.

So you did.

You looked around and your jaw dropped when you saw the large Broadway sign. He had brought you to Broadway Theatre. And when you glanced down he was holding two tickets for Wicked. You turned your head to share your look of shock and happiness with him. You had wanted to go to a Broadway show for so long, and Peter had made it happen.

“Peter… how?” You asked him, turning in his arms with teary eyes.

“Mr. Stark helped me get really good tickets. He also… may have paid for them to run the show tonight.” Peter explained quietly.

“You got… Tony Stark to pay to run Wicked on my birthday for me?” You asked incredulously.

“Of course I did. Do you like it?” Peter asked.

“Like it? Peter this is literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. I love it.” You said before throwing your arms around him.

The show lasted for around two hours, and you were on the edge of your seat the entire time. Peter thought it was cute how into the musical you were, and he found himself spacing out to stare at you for chunks of the performance. He wouldn’t admit that if you asked though.

The performance was over in a flash, and you were both disappointed and invigorated because of it. It only had just ended yet you wanted to watch it again and again. Peter had made a good choice.

“Thank you for such a wonderful day.” You murmured to him as you walked out of the theater. “You’re welcome, jellybean, but the day is far from over.” He grinned.

“What do you mean?” You asked, surprised that he had more planned.

“I mean it’s time to get back in the car. And don’t worry, the next part has more standing up and walking around.” He told you as you two headed to the car.

“Peter, I really don’t need anything else.” You tried to tell him.

“Come on, you’ll love it…” Peter said, giving you puppy eyes. “Please?”

“Fine.” You sighed. He had seemed to put a lot of effort into it all so you didn’t want to ruin it. “But then can we just go home?”

“Yes. Scout’s honor after this last place we will watch movies and cuddle.”

“You weren’t a scout.” You reminded him with a smile.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Y/N.” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows. It made you laugh as he pulled onto the road once more, taking you to your last mystery location.

It was a 40 minute drive.

It was long and you were already sick of sitting in this car, but every time you whined like a child asking if you were there yet, Peter would only laugh and tell you that you were ‘getting close love.’

Once again when you were in the final stretch, Peter told you to close your eyes so he could properly surprise you. Much in the same fashion as earlier, Peter helped you out of the car and began to walk you along. Only this time you could somewhat hear where you were going.

“Peter… are we at Coney Island?” You asked him. Your eyes were still covered so you couldn’t see the pout and puppy eyes Peter gave you. He uncovered your eyes since you had guessed.

“Yes… you ruined your own surprise you know.” Peter told you, kissing the tip of your nose.

You giggled, shaking your head as you threw your arms around him. He really was probably the sweetest and best boyfriend you could ever even dream of.

“I know. It’s not my fault I have ears though.” You pointed out, pulling him into another hug.

“Yeah, but still…” Peter whined.

Eventually the boy gave up on the argument and pulled you into the park. The first thing he tugged you to was the swinging chairs, knowing it would give you two a great view of everything around. And despite the line, you two were able to get right on, another compliment of Mr. Stark. It was that way with everything. You had unlimited rides and unlimited games. Nothing could be better, except maybe just being home, cuddling with Peter.

Next you chose to play some of the carnival games that were everywhere, after Peter begged you to stop for cotton candy. And of course you had agreed, only you chose to steal from his rather than get your own.It was a whirlwind and before you knew it, hours had passed by in the blink of an eye, leaving you and Peter thoroughly tired out from your fun. It meant it was time to go, even if Peter was disappointed he hadn’t won you anything — rather, you won him a stuffed dog you two agreed to share custody of.

Before you two could leave, you pulled Peter into a photobooth, wanting to have some memento of the evening. But finally it was time to go home, and this time Peter told you he was headed to his place for one last surprise.

Your leg was bouncing with anticipation as you waited for him to get to his place. What more could this boy possibly have up his sleeve?

It turned out, Peter had set up the sweetest little fort in the middle of his living room. Aunt May was nowhere in sight and it just left the two of you. He handed you a little cupcake with a candle on it.

“Happy Birthday, Jellybean.” Peter smiled, kissing you softly. “Let’s watch some movies.”

You both walked over to his fort, getting rid of your shoes and climbing in. You settled between his legs, your back pressed against his chest as you ate your chocolate cupcake.

“What was your favorite part of the day?” Peter asked you eventually, after settling on Lilo and Stitch. He tried to fight for Rapunzel, but it was your birthday so of course he lost. Not that he didn’t usually lose that fight.

“Hmm, you know what? This is my favorite part.” You replied quietly.

Peter frowned, surprised and confused by your answer. “Really? But we do this all the time.” He said, knowing this wasn’t new or special.

“I know. But that’s what makes it great. All I need is you and some Disney movies and I’m happy. Everything else was great… but this is my favorite place to be.” You admitted to him. There was nothing better than cuddles and movies with Peter.

“Oh…” he murmured, suddenly feeling shy as his cheeks went 

“I love you Peter… You were all I needed to make today special.” You whispered, twisting in his arms so you could kiss him.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Peter smiled, resting his forehead against hers. “Happy birthday, angel.”

#peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #birthday fic #peter parker one shot #one shot #spider man x fem!reader #self indulgent fic #birthday celebration #peter parker fic #marvel fic

[saiilorstars]

Next Stop Everywhere

Chapter 22: The Human Love 

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

(Minerva’s face claim: Victoria Camacho)

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Chapter summary: The Doctor trusts Minerva and Martha to keep him hidden while the Family hunts him down. He only forgot to mention to them what to do if he ever fell in love with someone...

// Story Masterlist // 

A laser beam shot right above us, making the Doctor, Martha and myself fall to the floor while the poor console took the blow and sparked like crazy.

"Did they see you!?" the Doctor helped Martha and I to our feet, "Either of you!?" Martha and I looked at each other, both scared and confuse, "Did they see you!?"

"I...I don't know," I answered slowly.

"We were busy running!" Martha said frantically.

"It's important," he gritted his teeth at us. "Did they see your faces?"

"They couldn't have!" I tried to say coherently since my thoughts were all over the place. "It's not possible."

The Doctor dashed to the console, "Off we go then!"

Martha and I followed, the Doctor staring at the rotor with intent. But a warning beep cut in with a bunch of symbols sprawled on the console screen.

"Ah!" the Doctor grabbed the screen and read it, "They're following us," he returned to the controls.

"But that's not possible, you have a time machine!" I frowned.

"Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe," he stood straight and paused for a moment, "They're never gonna stop," he ran a hand through hair and thought, "Unless...I'll have to do it," he turned to us.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked, quietly.

"Minerva, you trust me, right?" I nodded, "And you Martha, you trust me?" she nodded as well, "Good, cos it all depends on you two," he went under the console for who knows what.

"But...what are we supposed to do?" Martha asked as we watched him in confusion.

He stood up and held out a pocket watch, "Take this watch, cause my life depends on it," he grabbed my hand and placed the watch in it, but also took out...

"Ah!" I hissed, jerking my hand back as Kaeya's necklace touched my palm, "Doctor!"

"Sorry," he grabbed my hand again and placed the necklace's chain on my palm, "Keep it safe. Hidden. And the watch, "Minerva, the watch is-"

I gasped as I sat upright on my bed, slowly realizing it had just been a dream. But it had been the same dream. The one I kept having every single night since we arrived here.

"Just a dream," I whispered to myself as I got out of bed, "A dream," I picked up Kaeya's necklace and placed it around my neck, barely feeling the sting as it bore a cloth underneath the two suns and moon, courtesy of Martha, "Same old dream..." I moved to the mirror, making sure the necklace was properly placed and pushed my hair over my shoulders. There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?"

"Morning!" Martha exclaimed as she entered, dressed in a maid's outfit, "How are we feeling today?"

"Like I'm stuck in a never ending circle," I turned to her, she walking over with a sharp look.

"Bad dream again?"

I nodded, "The same one."

"It's funny, you know, because he dreamt that too. Last night..."

"How is he?"

She looked back with a knowing smile plastered on her face, "Same old, same old: clueless." I smiled dimly, watching her go to the wardrobe and start rummaging through the dresses, "Oblivious. Yeah, the only difference is the hearts. What do you think?" she pulled out a light green and pink dress.

"I don't really care," I shrugged, "I'm not supposed to know what I'm wearing, remember?"

"Well, your...brother, wants you well dressed, remember?" she plucked out a blue dress from the closet and set it on my bed, smiling at it, "I think this one will turn heads...alien-disguised-as-human head..."

"Please, truly not the time for that," I walked over to the bed. "And as for my 'brother', I could care less. He's a prune."

She chuckled, "A gullible prune, thank god!"

"Thank the heavens for that. It let me stay close to the Martian. Even if he doesn't notice me, hm," I smiled sadly, looking a the dress, "Guess that hasn't changed either, huh?"

Martha stared at me for a minute, "C'mon," she grabbed the dress and my hand, "You've got to look lovely. Or your brother will kill me!"

"He can't fire anyone without my consent, remember? I'm his sweet, innocent, little sister." And we both laughed at the poor man.

Martha sat me down at the vanity desk just like every morning. "Brush," she held her hand out.

"Martha, I can do it. I already don't like how you ended up in this place, you are not going to 'serve' me."

"I don't serve you, I help you. Serve would indicate that I'm being forced to. Here, it's just one best friend helping her other best friend get ready for the day."

I sighed, "But you don't-"

"Minerva give me the brush!" she half shouted, actually making me flinch. I reached for the brush and handed it to her.

"So...did he really dream of the same thing?"

She nodded, "Mhm, crazy ideas to him."

"Yet so real..."

"He dreamt of us too. He can kinda let me slide, but he was seriously stuck on why you're there."

"Well, it's a bit odd for a school teacher to be dreaming with his housemaid and the headmaster's little sister isn't it?"

"When you say it like that, yeah!" she chuckled.

I was posing as the headmaster's little sister...how'd that happen was actually some luck. I'd like to think it was Kaeya wanting someone to be with the Doctor because seriously, it just had to be luck from the spirits. When the Doctor changed into a human, his 'residual awareness' thing only worked for Martha. I theorized Kaeya's necklace had interfered with the signal, leading Martha to declare the woman was getting on her bad side because it was messing with her best friend. Oh that Martha! What ever was the case, I had to remain hidden in the TARDIS for about two days until I could come up with my own story and get myself stationed at the school.

And then Kaeya had acted...

Her necklace activated and got me to the letters of a miss Lisabetha Greene, otherwise known as the headmaster's younger sister. They were step-siblings that had never met each other. Their only means of contact was through letters. As bad as it was, I had to intercept the letters, stop them from reaching the headmaster so I could present myself to him as her.

That's when Kaeya had helped me again.

The necklace had abilities that would just rise when needed, without my consent. It let me gather up some dresses from the nearby shops without paying a cent. It allowed me to gather information of Lisabetha to every extent possible without tipping anyone off.

All feelings against Kaeya set aside...her necklace was pretty cool.

And so when I felt prepared, I showed up to the school where the Doctor and Martha resided, merely two days later, and posed as Lisabetha Greene, the headmaster's little sister. And wow was the man gullible. A simple, innocent look was all it took for it to go.

For two months, the necklace has allowed me to keep all letters of Lisabetha, the real woman, to stay away from the school. But lately, the necklace had stopped granting me its few perks and just been...a necklace. I wondered if it meant I had used its energy up, something I feared the Doctor would be crossed about once he returned. But I also thought it was Kaeya's way of telling me everything was fine and the necklace didn't need to be used anymore. There was just one trick about Lisabetha that kept me on guard...

"Ready?" Martha questioned while I looked at myself in the mirror.

I wore a Dresden blue, cotton dress that went down to my ankles. It was high-waist with a pin-tuck detail around the bodice and cuffs. It had mid-sleeves with the cuffs having ruffled lace trims. There were white, tinny buttons finishing the front of the gown and white grosgrain ribbon trims outlining the hems of the skirt in three rows. It had a straight-across neckline with a white lace covering the trims. My hair was left down as usual with two twists on either side of my head.

"I suppose," I sighed, giving myself one last look before turning to her.

"Not so exciting, huh?"

"When you're a blind woman in 1913, there's not much to do."

She sympathetically smiled and linked arms with me, "Sorry about that."

"Not your fault, anything if it means I can stay."

...Lisabetha was blind.

~0~

"And please remember to pick up the newest braille books dropped off this morning," the headmaster, my brother, was saying.

"Yes, brother," I replied, keeping up the act just fine. After two months, it was getting a little easier not to let my vision slip up. I took it as a play role like the few I had when I attended school at home. I had played a princess, a witch, a wife...so now I played a blind sister.

"There's a literature one I'm interested for you to read..." the man continued, but my gaze was captivated by one of the newest teachers...John Smith.

But when he happened to glance over, I quickly turned my head, lost in the darkness again. It had been like this for two months...and it was killing me.

~0~

"Now Martha, I don't literally need a body guard beside me twenty-four seven," I muttered to the woman as we walked down the corridor on the second floor.

"They were orders by the headmaster," she shrugged.

"And ever so obedient, are we?" I raised an eyebrow.

"When it's convenient, yes," she suddenly turned us around, "Because it just so happens that Mr. Smith is coming this way..."

"Yeah, with a pile of books, mark my words the man will drop them all in less than two minutes. That's if the human version of him can garner that extra minute because we all know the Doctor couldn't."

"Ouch, you're bitter today," she made a face.

"Sorry, it's been, um...a crappy day, alright?" I moved Kaeya's necklace by the chain to reveal a burned part of my skin underneath, "The damn thing is stinging through the cloth."

"Take it off, Minerva," Martha whispered, dead serious. She had zero patience when it came to the necklace and Kaeya altogether.

"I can't. I promised the Doctor I wouldn't."

She rolled her eyes, "I'm sure he," she nodded towards the Martian, "Would say otherwise."

"Yeah well he's not exactly with it at the moment, is he?"

"You wanna see how he shares similarities with the Doctor?"

"What are you gonna do?"

She smirked, "Attraction between geeks is ever so weird. Wonder how weird it'd be with the school teacher and the headmaster's little sister."

"Martha, don't you dare!" I exclaimed, but she was already making her way over to the Doctor Smith.

She simply winked and went over, "Mr. Smith, do you need help with that?" she took the book that had fallen from the pile he held in his hands.

"Thank you Martha," he sighed, letting her take half of the books from him.

I stood here, awkwardly, not able to directly look at them because of my 'blindness' but I worried Martha would do something she shouldn't...as usual.

"Don't you have some responsibilities to attend to, Martha?" he asked her, curious.

"Yes I do, sir," she nodded towards me, "I was appointed to accompany Miss Greene, today."

"Martha," I called, unfortunately having to revert to my act, "Martha?"

"Honestly Martha, how irresponsible of you to leave her alone," the Doctor scolded her before directing himself to me, "Miss Greene? Are you alright?"

"Uh...yes." That was a perfect response, wasn't it?

"Sorry, Miss, I thought Mr. Smith could use some help. He was carrying an awful lot of books," Martha explained innocently.

"I hope you don't mind using your employee for today, Mr. Smith," I said quietly, nervously.

"Oh, no, no, go ahead. I noticed you've taken a liking to her."

"How can one not? She's amazing. But about these books...perhaps I could help as well?"

The Doctor's eyes widened at the idea, "No! Of course not."

"Why not?"

"You're...you're the headmaster's sister, you can't be doing this work..." he fumbled to come up with a good response. I found it amusing how he stuttered. He definitely sounded like the Doctor in that moment.

"I'm sure two or three books shall not hurt anyone, Mr. Smith," I reached out for two books from his pile, "Where can we drop them off?"

Seeing no other option, he sighed, "Right this way," he gestured, only to remember a minute later I couldn't 'see', "Oh!" he scrunched his face.

I chuckled, "It's quite alright."

"I'm sorry," he began, sounding just like the Doctor again.

"It's fine, can we get going?"

"Here," Martha took more books from him, just the amount for her to still be able to see, "You take her."

The Doctor sheepishly linked an arm with me, "Shall we?" I blushed and nodded, letting him lead us, "So, um, Miss Greene, what were you doing around here?"

I smiled, "I hope you don't mind my directness, but I'd prefer if you called by my name, Lisabetha," Martha smirked ever-so-discreetly.

"Yeah, yeah, of course," he nodded.

"And you're John, right?" I asked, innocently.

"Yes, yes it is."

"It's very nice to meet you," I held a hand out, the Doctor slowly taking it and shaking it.

"Likewise," he replied quietly, my only regret at the moment not being able to meet his gaze.

Feeling my face warm up, and the fear of being caught, I unlinked our arms and turned around to face both, "Tell me, John, what were these books for?"

"Oh, um, just...for the students," he shrugged.

I took steps backwards, nodding, hoping we'd keep the conversation going, "What are your favorite genres?"

"Miss Greene," Martha eyed me, a hint of concern in her eyes for a reason.

"Um, historical?" the Doctor tried, looking past me.

"Oh! I love history too," I smiled.

"Miss Greene," Martha nearly hissed.

The woman had brought me into the situation and now she was crossed?

"Martha, it's quite rude-" But one of my feet lost ground to step on?

"Lisabetha!" the Doctor dropped his books and lunged forwards, catching me just in time before I toppled down the staircase. So that was what Martha had been trying to do. Whoops!

"Stairs, right," I breathed, my heart racing inside my chest to point of nearly bursting.

"Miss Greene, are you okay!?" Martha moved hurried closer to us.

"Y-yes," I grasped the Doctor's sleeves as I took a deep breath. Our closeness had me blushing within the minute. He was holding me so tight that, even though it was probably ridiculous, I felt safer than ever. "Thank you, John."

He smiled softly, "It was nothing."

Martha cleared her throat, the usual smirk plastered on her face.

The Doctor helped me straighten up on my feet, "Right then, let me, um...just," he gestured for the books then realized I couldn't see again and sighed, scrunching his face once again, "Sorry."

While he went to pick up the books we had dropped, Martha and I shared a quick look, she smirking and me scolding her. By the time the Doctor had stood up, I was blind again.

"John, would you like me to take some books, again? I promise I won't drop them again," I held out my hands for them.

"Lisabetha, you really don't have to..."

"But I want to," I wiggled my fingers, "Please?" And just like that he handed me two books again. Apparently, my sweet smile worked on him too!

We linked arms and went down the stairs properly, Martha in front of us. She stopped by the landing, turning for a wooden noticeboard on the wall, "Have you heard about this, Miss Greene? Mr. Smith? It's the annual dance at the village hall tomorrow."

"Yes, Laura was speaking about it yesterday," I replied.

Laura was an actual friend I made outside the school. She was a bit pretentious and sometimes ignorant to my 'blindness'. But she was a nice person overall...usually.

"She was thinking of going," I continued, "She said it was nothing formal but rather fun by all accounts. Do you think you'll go, John?"

"Me?" he sounded confused.

"Will you be going?"

"Uh, I hadn't really thought about it," he thought more on it, "And-and you?"

"Me?" Now it was my turn to be confused, "No, I suppose not. No one would ask a blind woman. They think she can't dance. Well," I looked away for effect, but really, it was to hide a blush, "I'll have them know I probably know more than they do. Oh well, can't exactly prove it."

"Well, I should imagine that you would be...um...I mean, I never thought you'd be one for..." he moving around me and Martha, looking slightly nervous for some reason, "I mean there's no reason why you shouldn't-if you do, you may not...I probably won't, but even if I didn't then I couldn't..." he started backing away and I knew there was a stair case but I couldn't really warn him, now could I?

"Mr. Smith, the stairs," Martha said, the man backing away from us.

"What about them?" he looked at her, even more confused.

"No, they're right behind you!"

He managed to turn and see but overbalanced and fell backwards down the stairs, the books flying all around. Martha turned away while I ran to the front but saw it was too late, the poor Martian had taken quite a blow.

"Wow..." Martha moved beside me, both staring down.

And then I elbowed her in the ribs, "This is your fault!" I whisper-shouted.

"Ow," she rubbed her side, frowning, while I shook my head at the fiasco.

~0~

"Is he alright!?" Martha burst into the Doctor's room right before I told her not to overreact.

"Excuse me, Martha. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking," I heard Matron Joan's voice snap.

I entered the room, looking as high authority as I could to save my friend, "I sent her in, actually."

"Oh, um, good afternoon Miss Greene," she quickly retracted.

Martha looked back and smirked, silently thanking me for the defense. She returned by my side and walked us further inside, "John, are you feeling better?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"It was just a tumble, that's all," he mumbled, groaning when Joan tried to clean a cut on the back of his head.

"It didn't sound like it..."

"I'm fine," he assured, faintly smiling.

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha asked Joan.

"I have. And I daresay I know a lot more about it than you," Joan replied slightly irritated.

Martha nodded, remembering she wasn't supposed to know more than the woman, "Sorry, I'll just...tidy your things," she said to the Doctor and went to do just that.

I wasn't about to let someone snap at my best friend, and so, "Joan, my brother, the headmaster, was looking for you."

"Really? What for?"

I shrugged, "How should I know? He barely tells me anything that goes on in this school. Still, you should ho find him. I'd tell you where he was but," I pointed at my eyes, "Don't really know."

She daintily smiled, "I'll just go search for him."

"Yes, yes, go ahead," I gestured with an arm and she walked out of the room.

Matron Joan was another friend I had made, probably a better one than Laura. She was kind, she was caring, a good nurse too. The only thing I disliked about her was the way she treated Martha. No matter how important keeping the Doctor hidden was, I would not let anyone disrespect my best friend. No exceptions.

"Sorry, John, it seems like my brother has taken your nurse away," I offered an apologetic smile.

"Oh no, if the headmaster was looking for her. Let her do her job," he said, "Don't mind a petty injury."

"Are you really okay?" I asked, still concerned it had harmed him in other ways. He was human now and just as breakable as Martha and I, "Martha said there were books scattered all over the stairs. I thought you were hurt."

"I assure you Lisabetha," he stood up from his chair and walked over, "I am fine. Would you like me to accompany you back to your room?"

"Um, no thank you. My room contains nothing more than two boring books that my brother has left as an assignment."

"Not interesting?"

"They're completely tasteless in plots and intrigue. I'm better off staring at a wall. Or in my case, the darkness."

"Sir, I think maybe one of your tales would make a better story for Miss Greene," Martha spoke up.

"You have stories?" I asked.

"Not stories per say," he shrugged, "They're dreams."

"Ah, and, what kind of dreams are they? If I may ask."

"You'll think I'm deranged," he smiled, sheepishly.

"Why? Is your imagination that big?"

He laughed, "Well, see, I keep imagining that I'm someone else and that I'm hiding..."

My smiled slightly faded, "Hiding? In what way?"

"Um...well...see..." he sighed, "Almost every night, I dream...this is going to sound silly..."

"Tell me."

"I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts."

It did take me by surprise that he was dreaming about this, Martha hadn't told me about that, "Oh..."

He laughed, embarrassed, "I told you."

"Well, I could be judge of that," I said, feeling slightly brave all of a sudden.

"Really? How?"

"Well, unlike Matron Joan, I don't have any tools, but I do have a hand," I waved it, "And excellent hearing. May I?"

"Uh, sure," he stepped up.

I put my hand on his chest and felt one heart, as it should be. I knew I was blushing like mad but I acted like nothing, even if his gaze was currently locked on me, "There's one."

"Aha..." he stared intently, not looking very bothered that he had a woman he'd only met an hour ago putting her hand on his chest.

I moved my hand to where his other heart was supposed to be but felt nothing, "Just one."

"Aha..." he blinked and suddenly shook his head, "...I mean, yes."

"Human as they come," I smiled.

"You know, I wrote down some of these dreams in the form of fiction..." he looked around, "Um...not that it would be of any interest..."

"Didn't I just say my books were horrifyingly boring?"

"Really?" he looked on, shocked at the idea I actually wanted to hear his 'silly' stories.

"You'll just have to narrate that's all,"" I chuckled.

He smiled and walked to his desk, "Well...I've never shown it to anyone before."

"That makes me the first? Now, I feel special," I said, Martha gave a smirk as the Doctor walked back.

"Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes, that's alright."

He guided me to the couch and sat me down, taking a seat beside me with his journal in his hands, "I call it the Journal of Impossible Things."

"Quite the title," I remarked, seeing it as the perfect title for all the adventures we had.

He turned the pages and stopped at one that contained a sketch of the console and the monitor screen. On the next one was a gas-mask victim he and Rose had apparently battled with, even met some man named Jack Harkness. Never actually did meet the man, now that I think of it. Even when he, the Doctor and Rose had returned I was out of the city for a school trip. From what Mickey told me, Jack had been a very flirty man with everyone, and, the world had nearly ended...

So there was nothing new there.

"What's on the pages?" I asked innocently, seeing him turn the page just after...where a Dalek was sketched. My breathing hitched for a second, thankfully not loud enough to be noticed.

"Well, I don't know exactly what these would be called," the Doctor was staring endlessly at the Dalek sketch, "But they're a bit like pepper bottles. Can you imagine that?"

Pepper bottles? Oh dear, this human mind certainly couldn't captivate the concept of Daleks.

"You have quite the imagination," I remarked nonetheless, the proud smile I received back making it worthwhile.

"Mmm, it's become quite a hobby."

Indeed it had become a hobby of his by everything he had drawn. It seemed like he had gotten everything from his past in snippets. There was the face of the Moxx of Balhoon, and two Autons, then the clockwork robots Mickey talked about with Madame de Pompadour.

"Everything's a bit silly, mind you," the Doctor sheepishly smiled as he looked at the several sketches, "There's more little machines, but with clocks at their heads...sort of clocks anyways," he tilted his head as he studied the robots."

"Vast imagination," I nodded, "And you drew only monsters? Has it been only nightmares?" I wanted to know what exactly he dreamed about regarding Martha and I.

He turned the page and unfortunately for me, I received my answer...a sketch of Rose Tyler's face.

"What's next?" I played dumb, suppressing my pain and jealousy as best I could.

"It's a picture of a girl, ma'am," Martha startled us from behind.

"Oh! Martha!" I frowned, "You gave me a fright!"

"Martha, highly disrespectful," the Doctor scolded.

She had her elbows propped on the back of the couch and a content smile on her face, "He has an eye for the pretty girls, Miss."

"It's just an invention," he said, still getting over Martha, "This character, Rose, I call her, Rose. Seems to disappear later on..."

"Hm, wonder what happened," I mumbled.

And then came the second blow...

"Kaeya," he whispered, a faint smile on his lips as the Silver Monsoon princess came up on the next page.

"And...who's that?"

"Same with the last, an invention," he shrugged, suddenly glancing at my neck, "...though..."

This was one of the moments where I could seriously not mess up on my blind act. Moments like these got me curious about what people were staring at and as known, my curiosity always got the best of me, "What's wrong, John?"

"It's just...she seems to wear the same necklace you have on your neck."

Immediately, I placed a finger on it, regretting instantaneously for the burn I got, "Oh..." I gritted my teeth as the burn passed.

"Where did you get that from?" he asked, curiously looking at it.

"Um...it's a present from...my mother."

"Ah, well, suppose that's it, then," he was about to close the journal when Martha cut in...

"Why don't you tell her what's on the next page, sir?" she questioned, a rather fake, innocent tone in her voice.

"Martha," he gave her quite the glare.

"What's on the next page?" I asked, quietly, hoping to god it wasn't another woman, like Madame de Pompadour. Heard the Martian had snogged her as well. He left trails of women behind him, I swear.

"Uh...you see...um..." the Doctor stuttered.

I reached for the book and flipped the page, "Martha, what's next?" looking away in case it was the mistress.

"Shall you tell her, or shall I?" she questioned him.

He sighed, "Lisabetha, I hope you don't become angry...but I've had several dreams about you as well."

"Really?"

"Yes...and, well...I've taken liberty of...well..." I noticed a small blush on his cheeks as he looked between the journal and I.

"He drew you too," Martha declared, smirking widely.

"R-really?" I blinked, forcing everything inside me not to directly look at the journal.

"I can describe it if you like!" Martha exclaimed like a child, "See, you're on a horse and Mr. Smith is helping you ride it. You're wearing this amazing, beautiful blue dress and your hair is all flowy in the back, and then you're holding one of Mr. Smith's hands while his other-"

"MARTHA," the Doctor gritted his teeth, looking like he could really strangle the woman, "Thank you."

I was blushing madly by this time, seeing the picture for myself while the two battled it out with stares. I assumed it was from the guinguette because it looked like we were wearing the same clothes. Truthfully, looking back at the day, knowing how terrified I was of the horse...it hadn't been that bad after all...

"Apologies, Lisabetha," the Doctor sighed, "I understand if you'd like to stop here-"

"Nonsense," I reached for his hand, "Thank you for your picture. I'm sure it's wonderful."

He nodded, "Yeah..."

"Are you going to show me what's next?"

"Oh, yes! Yes!" he pushed Martha away from us, making the woman return to her duties, and then flipped the page, "Ah, the blue box."

"What box?"

"It's a blue box...like a...like a magic carpet, this funny little box that transports me to far away places."

"Like a doorway?"

"Mm..." he looked on, thoughtfully, "I sometimes think how magical life would be if things like this were true."

"If only..." I smiled, softly.

"I have dreamt, you know, of us..." he said, then suddenly shook his head, "No, wait! Not us as in together 'us' but as in..well..." I tried following but I just couldn't grasp what he was saying, "See, I-I dream...that I travel with you...and Martha."

"Oh...that sounds nice."

"Yes, but in those dreams, you're named differently."

"Like what?"

"It seems you have been named after a goddess, Minerva."

"Wisdom, I like it," I smiled.

"It is. And we have the most amazing times all three of us and...and you can see," he said quietly, staring at me with a soft smile, "You can see everything in the world and it's beauty."

I let out a shaky exhalation thanks to his look, "If only, right?"

"Yeah, if only..."

"Miss Greene?" Martha called.

"Yes?"

"I believe it is time for your lunch. The headmaster will be waiting for you," she walked back to us.

"Right..." I stood up, "...I guess I shall finally leave you, John. I loved hearing about your dreams. Such a magnificent imagination."

"Well, thank you for listening," he stood up, "Not everyone would..."

"You'll come to realize, John, that I am not like 'everyone' else," I remembered our little moment with Lazarus' experiment mentally smiled at the similarity. I made sure the Doctor knew that I was not like any other human, and John Smith would be sure to learn that as well.

"Yes..." he then blinked, ...I mean, thank you Miss Greene."

Martha linked arms with me and guided us to the doors, "And, don't forget you are meeting Mrs. Laura Dubay at the pub tonight."

You know, she said quite too loud. Like she wanted a certain someone to hear us. "Ah, yes," I patted her arm, wishing I could elbow her at the moment.

She closed the door behind and did a squeal in the middle of the corridor, "How's that for progression?"

"It doesn't matter," I sighed, beginning to walk, she hurriedly catching up to 'guide' me, "Because anything he says is not real. He's not the Doctor, he's not himself, he's..."

"Human? Yeah, I know," Martha nodded, "For the same reason, I have a theory."

"Ugh, please, no more theories," China entered my mind and only made me feel worse, "Ever."

"But this is a really good theory!"

"I don't care, nothing of this maters anyways because the minute the Doctor comes back, it all goes to hell. Who knows, he might not even remember any of this."

~0~

"Martha, it's freezing out here," I shivered as I walked out into the cold night, the pub getting on my last nerve with Laura Dubay inside.

"Miss Lisabetha, do you need help?" Jenny, one of the other friends Martha and I had made, quickly rushed over before Martha had the chance.

I shivered, but smiled nonetheless, "I'm alright. You can return to your seat. I was just leaving anyways."

"Would you like us to accompany you?"

"I can make it on my own. This is your free night. Enjoy it."

"Miss Lisabetha, where is your friend?" Martha walker over and guided me to their table outside the pub.

"Laura? Off with some man. Left me as usual. I don't know why she insists on us spending time together if she'll just leave in the end."

"Would you like a drink?" Jenny asked.

"Jenny, you know what I'd like?"

"What?"

"For you to sit down and enjoy your night," I chuckled, "I'll be going home, now. It's very cold out," I shivered once more.

"But someone has to accompany you," she insisted.

"Jenny, it's a lovely night, many stars from what I've been told," I looked up, the sky indeed full of them, "You should enjoy them."

A green light flared across the stars, flaring out of existence only a moment later. Martha had seen it as well, and since I couldn't remark on it I had to keep quiet.

"Did you see that?" Martha pointed up to the sky.

"See what, Martha?" Jenny asked.

"It was...but it was right there!"

"What did you see?" I questioned, standing up.

"Don't worry, Miss Lisabetha, there's nothing," Jenny assured, giving Martha a dirty look for putting me on edge.

"Martha..." I reached out for her.

"I'm here. I'm here," she slowly moved beside me, whispering, "There was something, I swear."

"We should go to the TARDIS now," I whispered back.

She nodded, "Jenny, I'll take her back. She's extremely cold and she could catch a cold."

"Go right ahead. I'll just bring in the drinks and meet you back in the school."

"Matron?" Martha raised an eyebrow, Joan hurriedly running towards us.

"She doesn't look so good," I whispered to her.

"Did you see that?" Joan was out of breath by the time she reached us, "There was something in the woods...this light..."

"Evening, ladies," we heard the Doctor greet from behind.

"Evening, sir," Martha turned us around.

"There!" Joan exclaimed, everyone looking up as she pointed, "Up in the sky!"

"That's beautiful," Jenny gawked.

I took advantage of everyone looking up to steal a quick glance of the sky. Something flew over us, almost like a star. But, I knew better. "What is it?" I played dumb, returning my gaze down.

"There...orgom. Commonly known as a meteorite. It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all," the Doctor replied.

"But it came down in the woods," Joan insisted.

"No, no, no, they always look close when actually they're miles off. Nothing left but cinder."

"Martha," I whispered, trembling for cold and just a bit of fear that we had been caught.

"I'm gonna take a look," she declared.

I blinked, "No you're not-"

"Mr. Smith, can you please do me the favor of escorting Miss Greene back to the school?"

"Wait, what?" I looked around, disliking the idea of leaving her alone when it was our job to keep the Doctor safe.

"And we'll take care of Matron Joan as well," she grinned a smile at me.

Hated her. Hated her. Hated her.

And yet my heart skipped a beat when the Doctor linked arms with me.

Hated myself. Hated myself. Hated myself.

~0~

The next day, Martha and I walked through the woods, destination a good old box of wonders we had to leave behind two months ago. We went inside the barn and I walked up to the box, placing my palm on it and sighing, "I wonder if she's upset we haven't visited anymore."

"Keep talking like she's alive and you'll sound like the Doctor in no time," Martha shook her head.

"How many times have I told you," I started unlocking the doors, "The TARDIS is alive."

We stepped inside, my smile fading as I took in the darkness the console contained. It was nothing like the bright, exciting atmosphere is always gave.

"Hello..." I called, a bit dejected there was no hum in response.

"You're talking to a machine," Martha put a hand on my shoulder.

I sighed, my mind distancing from the present as I remembered what had happened two months ago...

"Minerva, the watch is me," the Doctor said slowly, ignoring my confused look.

"Right...no," I shook my head, "You're YOU," I pointed at him, "That's a watch."

"No, remember, the chameleon arch lesson?"

"I think I listened," I frowned as I tried to remember.

"Those creatures are hunters, they can sniff out anyone- and me being a Time Lord; well, I'm unique. They can track me down across the whole of time and space.

"And the good news is?" Martha moved beside us.

"They can smell me, they haven't seen me. And their life's bound to be running out so, we hide, wait for them to die. "

"But they can track us down. "

"That's why I've got to do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm gonna become human."

"You can do that?" I blinked, for a split second thinking all my aging problems with him had been solved.

He moved around the console, a strange headset lowering down, hanging from a cable, "Never thought I'd use this. All the times I've wondered."

"What does it do?" Martha looked at the headset with distaste.

"Chameleon Arch. Re-write my biology. Literally changes every single cell in my body. I've set it to human," he returned and took the pocket watch from me and fit it into a section of the headset, "Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything. Invent a life story for me, find me a setting and integrate me. Can't do the same for you two...you'll just have to improvise. I should have just enough residual awareness to let you in."

"But Doctor, what about Kaeya's necklace?" I frowned, holding it up with my other hand.

"That thing needs to stay away from the TARDIS while I'm not here," he said dead serious.

"Why?"

"Something is brewing inside and I don't know how it'll affect the TARDIS. I trust you Minerva," he returned, holding my hand that held Kaeya's necklace, "Just keep it with you. Don't let anyone else take it. I trust you."

I nodded, "I'll take good care of it, just like you."

"Wait a minute," Martha cut in, seeming to have been thinking of something, "When you say you're going to rewrite every single cell...isn't that going to hurt?"

'Oh yeah, it hurts," he made some wide eyes at the thought.

"Minerva?" Martha snapped me out of the memory, thankfully.

"Sorry," I went ahead to the console.

"It's alright, I was thinking of it too," she joined me while I started up a few controls.

"I never want to hear screams like that again," I whispered, remembering the ones the Doctor gave as rewrote his cell biology. I felt my heart literally constrict and just shatter at the sight of him in that much pain. I would've gone and stopped him if Martha hadn't grabbed and restrained me...not to mention the screams of the woman I continuously dreamed about. My head never seemed to be at peace anymore.

The monitor turned on, the old Martian appearing, addressing the camera.

"This working?" he tapped the screen, "Minerva, Martha, before I change here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like. Two, don't worry about the TARDIS, I'll put it on emergency power so they can't detect it, just let it hide away. Four- no, wait a minute, three. No getting involved in big historical events. Four- you two. Don't let me abandon you. And fi-

Martha twisted a dial, speeding up the speech, "We know it by heart, don't we?" she glanced at me with a fake irritated look, "Besides, we've got to know about the meteor. What are we supposed to do then?" she let go of the dial right at the end of the Doctor's speech.

"And twenty three. If anything goes wrong, if they find us, then you know what to do. Open the watch."

"It won't go wrong," I said with determination. Nothing would hurt him if I could help it. He always took care of me, swore to protect me and this time I could return the favor as was fair.

"Everything I am is kept safe in there. Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it, to him it's just a watch. But don't open it unless you have to. Because once it's open, then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you, Martha. Your choice," he walked off only to return with some final words, "Oh, and- thank you," the recording stopped at his smile, the screen flicking off.

I sighed, "I wish he'd come back."

"Almost there," Martha reminded, "Just one more month."

"You know, I turn eighteen in a month...think he'd remember that?"

She scoffed, "Please, I bet that's, like, marked red and flagged on his calendar!"

"Do you think he'll remember any of this?" I fiddled with a knob nearby.

"I don't think so..." she shrugged, eyeing me with suspicion, "Why?"

"...I want to kiss him," I confessed in a whisper.

"Oooh," she nudged me, getting an embarrassed smile out of me.

"He's human...maybe for a moment, I could just pretend," I tried to explain the silly notion I had, "That's if he even felt something for me in this version."

"You wanna hear my theory again?"

"Not really," I turned away from the console, heading for the doors.

"Oh but it's a really good one!" she ran after me, nearly pleading like a child who wanted sweets before dinner, "C'mon!"

"Forget it Martha, I already feel bad with what I want, I don't want more theories," I stepped into the barn.

"But it could help, and it would tie back to your kiss thing!"

"No," I opened the door of the barn and peered out, making sure no one was around before stepping out into the woods, "I shouldn't even have told you that. It's wrong."

"But it could help with the theo-"

"Martha," I turned to face her, abruptly bumping into her, "Let's forget it," she opened her mouth to retaliate, "Please."

She sighed, nodding and letting go of her 'theory' for the time being. She linked arms with me and started on our way back to the woods. Suddenly, the necklace burned right through the cloth and onto my skin, "Ah!" I grabbed it and this time the burn didn't hurt, instead I gasped, feeling a presence around us...a voice.

"Minerva?" Martha panicked, holding my arm while I put a hand on my chest, "What's wrong?"

"I...can feel," I looked around, "...I can hear."

"Hear what?"

I opened my mouth when an icy numbness took over my head, "Ow..." Martha's eyes widened suddenly, "...what?" She just stared. "Martha, what?" But she blinked and shook her head, "Nothing." "Martha?" I raised an eyebrow.

"It was nothing," she shook her head again, picking up the necklace and turning it over, the cloth still in its place, "What did you hear?"

"I felt like...the watch...a voice inside of it, you know, how the Doctor told us about it? I could hear his voice for a split second. I could feel him, the real him, just for a split second."

"How'd you manage to do that?"

I looked at the necklace she held, pointing a trembling finger at it, "Kaeya did it. She was telepathic in her days..."

"A spirit?"

"I told you, I believe in the afterlife and I believe that woman is doing something with that necklace."

"What did she do, then?" she raised an eyebrow, still doubting my words and probably my sanity.

"Martha, she loved the Doctor. She had unfinished business in this world, and if she died, I think she's still in that thing," I stared at the necklace, "And she wants to help protect the Doctor. I think, for a moment, she got into my head...she made me feel and hear the Doctor. And it felt horrible, Martha," I shook my head, shutting my eyes, barely feeling that icy numbness now, slowly fading away into nothing, "It hurt."

"Spirit or no spirit, this thing is dangerous and you are not wearing it anymore," she declared, putting it around her neck now.

"I promised him I'd wear it."

The Doctor explained that while the TARDIS would be in hiding, it was best to leave the necklace was someone to look after it. The readings he got from it the last time made him nervous cos he didn't know what exactly that energy was. So, he left it with me...

"Kaeya can bite it because she's not hurting you anymore," Martha snapped.

"You think...she was trying to hurt me?" I rubbed my arm, somehow remembering Rose and her threat.

It seemed like any woman that loved the Doctor took me as a threat...even dead women.

"We're not gonna find out," she shrugged and linked arms with me, continuing on our way.

"Let's go find the Doctor, though. I won't feel right until I see that's he okay."

"Mhm," she agreed...and then, "OW!" she quickly took the necklace off, putting a hand on her neck where the necklace had touched her.

"What's the matter?"

"It...it burned me!" she stared at the necklace.

"Funny, it's only ever done it to me. What's changed?"

"Yeah, well, I don't like you either, Kaeya," Martha spat at the necklace like it could actually talk, "Here," she handed it back to me, "And if it burns you again, I say throw it and call it an accident."

"Can you imagine what the Doctor would do to me if I broke the necklace?" I frowned, shaking my head, "He'd kill me!"

"Please," Martha rolled her eyes, "He'd probably hug you and tell you it wasn't your fault and yadda, yadda."

"I have to take care of this, Martha. It's important to him and Kaeya. And sure, I may not completely like Kaeya, but it's the right thing to do. But she shouldn't worry of me and my feelings. Yes, fine, I want to kiss him, but it's not like I'm gonna go do it. He doesn't like me, period. Kaeya should see it."

"I don't like Kaeya," she repeated, glaring daggers at the necklace, "She's hurting you and she knows it."

I sighed, "Let's just go."

~0~

Thankfully, John, the Doctor, was alright and alive. He was with the students in the field of the schools...and they were practicing gunshots. If the Doctor could see himself now. There was a machine gun set up behind a bunker of sandbags, the students in a row, all doing their best to hit the targets across.

"Concentrate," the Doctor instructed.

"He seems just fine to me," Martha remarked, both of us watching with distasteful looks.

"That's not him," I muttered.

"Looks like Matron Joan isn't liking it either," Martha nodded towards the matron a few feet beside us.

"That makes her a good person," I started walking for her, she quickly 'guiding' me to her.

"Matron?" called Martha.

She looked over, a faint smile on her face, "Miss Greene."

"Martha tells me you're a bit displeased," I began, "Is there something wrong?"

"Um...you'll have to excuse me, Miss Greene, but I disagree with the way these students are taught," she sighed, looking ashamed.

"You disagree with the boys being taught how to kill," I spoke the words she couldn't.

"Uh...yes," she nodded, "It's how my husband died."

"I'm so sorry," I said, "You don't have to hide your displeasure. I don't agree with it either."

"Thank you," she whispered, actually looking grateful, "It's nice to know that someone in this school agrees with me."

I nodded, "Rest assure."

"It's a bit strange seeing as your brother is, well..."

"The headmaster, yes," I sighed, "But you will come to realize that I don't agree with most of the things he says. I abhor violence and its tools, such as weapons. My friend..." I paused, yup that friend was just gone for the moment, "...I had a friend, he taught me very well. There's always another way to settle problems. Never resort to violence."

"Wise one, your friend."

"Yeah, he is," I breathed in, watching the Doctor actually praising one his students for getting the target.

"I should be on my way, then, Miss Greene," Joan touched my arm, signaling her departure.

I nodded and she walked off, my gaze stuck ahead, ""I really hope he forgets this afterwards."

"Cease fire!" the headmaster appeared, stopping besides the Doctor.

"Good day to you, headmaster," the Doctor greeted him.

"Your crew's on fine form today, Mr Smith."

"Excuse me, Headmaster, we could do a lot better. Latimer is being deliberately shoddy," Hutchinson began to say.

"I really don't like him," I muttered to Martha, nudging her to walk us over.

"Minerva, maybe we should stay back," Martha whispered.

"I'm trying my best," the boy, Timothy, said.

"You need to be better than the best. Those targets are tribesmen from the dark continent," the headmaster replied.

"That's exactly the problem, sir. They only have spears. "

"Oh dear me. Latimer takes it upon himself to make us realize how wrong we all are. I hope, Latimer, that one day you may have a just and proper war in which to prove yourself. Now, resume firing."

"Oh, now we're definitely going," I frowned, the boy actually seeing how wrong this was and being snapped for it.

"Minerva, we have to remember our places!" Martha desperately reminded, struggling to keep me back.

"I do, and I have just enough authority myself," I nodded with determination and pulled her forwards, towards the men.

Hutchinson started firing again, Timothy feeding the ammunition. But for some reason, Timothy began getting distracted until he stopped his job.

"There's a stoppage, immediate action," Hutchinson looked at Timothy, "Didn't I tell you, Sir, this stupid boy is useless! Permission to give Latimer a beating, Sir?"

"It's your class, Mr. Smith," the headmaster shrugged.

"Permission granted," the Doctor said without a thought.

"Right, come with me, you little oiyk," Hutchinson grabbed Timothy's wrist and pulled him up, leading him away along with the other boys.

"Oh no you don't," I frowned, half angry with the Doctor. This was not him.

"Lisabetha!" the headmaster called, sounding angry, "What is she doing here?" he demanded from Martha, "It's completely dangerous-"

"Stop the boys," I pointed in a random direction, "I need Timothy. Right now."

"I believe that is not in your power," snapped the headmaster, "This is Mr. Smith's class and-"

"John, please?" I called, putting on my best, sweet smile that usually got us out of trouble.

"Bring him back," the Doctor called out to the boys, surprising the headmaster, yet making Martha smirk, "Miss Greene, what do you need him for?"

"An errand, is that alright?"

He nodded, "Yes, of course."

The boys begrudgingly let go of Timothy, the boy confused yet still walking over, "Timothy," I pulled Martha closer, "I need you to find me a cloth. Can you do that?"

"Just a cloth?" he frowned, even more confused.

"Yes, a small one, though a bit thick. Can you do that for me, please?"

"Sure, Miss Greene," he nodded and walked away, the other boys shooting him dirty looks.

"Lisabetha, you can't disregard Mr. Smith's orders," the headmaster walked over and grabbed my arm harshly, "This is his class."

"But he didn't mind," I gritted my teeth, "And please let go."

"You do better if you listen and obey-"

"No!" I shouted, pushing him off. I had a mother who did nothing but that and I'd be damned if I let a stranger do that to me.

"Lisabetha-"

"You are done telling me what to do, do you understand? I am independent and I can make my own decisions. You are not my father, you don't have a right to order me around. From now on, you will act like what you are, my brother. You will guide, you will advise me, but you shall not order me like a child."

The man blinked, "But-"

"Do I make myself clear?"

"That's...that's not how you're supposed to act!"

"You'll come to realize, big brother," I spat those two words out, "That I am not like anyone else. So don't treat me like a defenseless child."

"C'mon," Martha grabbed my arm, the headmaster's reaction a stunned and silent one, "We have to go to the village."

"Apologies, John," I sighed, hoping I hadn't just ruined any sort of friendship with him by my sudden out lash at the headmaster.

"Um, it's alright," he looked between the headmaster and I, "Actually, if you'd like...I'm sure Martha has more duties to attend to. I was thinking, if you don't mind, of course," his gaze still flickered between us, more nervous now, "If you'd allow me to escort you to the village?"

I blushed, lowering my gaze for a minute, "Really?"

"Yes, um, it could be dangerous in the village for two young women to be on their own...out there..."

Martha smirked, "Aha."

"Headmaster?" he turned to the man, as if for approval.

"Go ahead, maybe you can keep her in place," the headmaster muttered and walked away. I had to frown, unable to stop feeling myself as a little person in this era.

"Hey, it's okay," the Doctor walked up, reaching for my hand, "I think it's wonderful you stand your ground."

And again my dear best friend inputted a scoff as she walked away, "There's a shocker," she mumbled. But I was busy blushing and smiling at the Martian in front of me, careful to keep my gaze around and not locked onto him.

~0~

"I have to confess something, John," I said while we walked through the village.

"What is that?"

"I lied...about needing Timothy for an errand," I looked down, "Truth is, I just didn't agree with...with your 'permission'."

"Oh..." he did sound surprised, but he didn't lash out or anything.

"I don't agree with anything, really. Don't think it's just you."

"And when you say 'anything', I'm assuming we're talking about the school?"

I nodded, "Teaching boys how to kill? It's awful."

"But don't you think discipline is good for them?"

"But...it's such military discipline. If there's another war those boys won't find it so amusing."

"Great Britain's at peace, long may it reign."

"1913..." I muttered, "...I don't find myself convinced with the school. That's all. With everything. My brother..."

"Yes, the headmaster can be a little rough sometimes..."

"I really do apologize for my little...scene, with my brother. But I'm tired of the way I'm treated. I will not allow him to treat me like one of his maids with his yells and orders. I'll be damned."

He chuckled, "I really like that about you, you know. I've never seen anyone stand up to the headmaster like that."

"Thanks, but I believe no one has a right over anyone else. No superiority. But then I think it might not be his fault, it's the school's. It's taken him over, all the amusement from gun firings is simply not needed. It only worsens people internally."

"Well, I do admit that mankind doesn't need warfare and bloodshed to prove itself. Everyday life can provide honor and valor and...let's just hope that from now on this, this country can...can find its heroes in smaller places..." I noticed he was becoming absent in what he was speaking about. I looked ahead and saw he was watching a village street but I couldn't make what was so distracting, "In the most..." he continued watching, "ordinary..." he kept looking to and from the street, "Of deeds!" he suddenly exclaimed and snatched a cricket ball from a boy nearby then threw it ahead.

"What's the matter?" I asked, frantically.

Of course, then I saw what was happening back in the village street. Poles besides workers fell down and hit a plank of wood with a brick to its end and made it fly all the way to a piano on a rope. The rope snapped just as brick flew over it and hit a milk churn, making it fall right in front of a woman with a stroller. She had to stop and when she did, the piano crashed into the sidewalk, making her scream at the top of her lungs.

My mouth hung open but I remembered I hadn't "seen" anything so I shut it and controlled myself, "What was that noise?" I glanced over and saw the Doctor in utter shock at his little chain reaction.

"Lucky..." he finished his so-very-long sentence. He took a deep breath and turned to face me, "Miss Greene, may I have the privilege of taking you to the village dance this evening as my guest?"

"Uh..." I felt my heart skip a beat, "Y-yes."

He laughed, excitedly, "Really?"

I nodded, becoming excited myself, "Yes! I'd love to."

"That's great, that's...that's really great," he breathed in.

"So are you gonna tell me what just happened over there?"

"Oh that's a funny story," he linked an arm again.

"Then tell me."

"How's about we go back and I tell you over a nice cup of tea?"

"I actually prefer coffee..."

"Oh, then coffee it will be."

We chuckled and went on our way.

~0~

"You know, I'd like to think the Doctor is a man I wish I could be," the man himself was saying as we walked back to the school, passing a field with a scarecrow, "He does the impossible things with cricket balls."

"To be fair, anyone can do the impossible," I shrugged.

"But he sure has an eye for the ladies!" he chuckled to himself.

"Yeah..." I said with less than enthusiasm about the fact.

"Not me though," he suddenly said, looking at me, "I think if I'd see someone I really cared for, I wouldn't let them walk out on me."

And for some reason, my mind drifted back to the moment the Doctor had asked me to stay with him, right after Donna Noble had left us. I couldn't walk out on him then and now it was even more complicated to do so, but I had promised myself that I would if the moon princess, through some miracle, ever showed up.

"Are you alright, Lisabetha?" he brought me out of my thoughts, looking concerned.

"Sorry, I, um...I was just thinking of a friend."

"Oh, what friend?"

"A good friend...he, uh, left."

"Were you and him...?" he nodded, me shaking my head as soon as I got the message.

"No! Just good friends. He left some time ago and I miss him. That's all."

"Oh, does he have a date for return?"

"Not really..."

"Well, rest assured I can keep you company until he does come back," he grinned, getting a blush out of me.

"I'd like that very much."

He nodded and looked around, spying the scarecrow not far from us, "Oh, that scarecrow's all skewed," we crossed the furrows to reach it and he started stretching it across its frame.

"Ever the artist. Where did you learn to draw?" I asked curiously. The Doctor I knew could barely draw a stick figure!

"Gallifrey."

I stiffened, "And...is that in Ireland?"

"Yes, it must be, yes," but he didn't look nor sound sure.

"But...you're not Irish?"

Not at all, no. My father Sidney was a watchmaker from Nottingham and my mother Verity was..." he paused to think, "...um...well, she was a nurse, actually."

"Oh, I hear they make good wives," I joked, still a bit uneasy with the his uncertainty of the information he was supposed to know by heart.

"Really? Right. Yes. Well, my work is done, what do you think?" and he scrunched his face again at the error, heaving a big sigh, "Lisabetha, I am so sorry. I understand if you'd like to slap me because even I think I deserve it."

I giggled and stepped up, the man bracing himself for a slap. My hands "felt" their way up to his face, one of them resting on his cheeks. I leaned up and kissed his other cheek instead, "Nah, I don't like violence."

If the Doctor were here he would've let out the biggest scoff in the world and then made a proper list of the times I slapped him.

"Oh," he blinked, surprised by my small kiss.

Well, I'd take this kiss as a fill for the one I would never get in my life again.

~0~

"John, I'm still waiting for that coffee," I frowned, shifting on my seat as my back was getting tired.

"And you'll get it, but first you gotta stay still," he fumbled about in that journal of his.

"Hm, I don't know why I agreed."

"Because it was either this, or going back to your room," he took the seat beside me on the couch, "And I do recall you have a distaste for the books you had in there."

"Huh, you're right. Now I remember it," I nodded, seeing a small part of the sketch he had apparently done for me, "I'd ask to see it but..."

He held the journal between, as if to show. I did steal a quick glance from it and saw the sketch of me. It was a simple one of from my neck and up. In comparison to the Doctor, John Smith had the hand of an artist.

"Well, I can describe it to you. If you'd like..." he offered.

"That'd be nice," I nodded.

"I have to ask, first...have you ever seen yourself?" he asked, becoming serious.

"No...I was born blind." I did not like lying but I just had to for his sake and mine.

"Oh," he looked down to the book, "Well, you have beautiful eyes. This brilliant shade of green that just...mesmerize one," he tilted his head as he stared at the picture, "Your hair is exceptionally long. But it's very pretty. A light brunette," I smiled, looking down to hide my blush, "And your cheeks, they have this little pink tinge to them. It's a bit difficult to tell if your blushing or not, mind you. And then your smile...it's beautiful."

"My, I think you're over exaggerating, John," I said, looking up and hoping to dear god my blush had turned down, "If I didn't know any better, I look like one of those creatures you've drawn. The ones with the clocks or the little pepper bottles."

"Nonsense. You're definitely how I described you."

"I think you've made me far too beautiful," I shrugged, "Ordinary woman you can find anywhere."

"I don't think so," he shook his head, "In fact, I've come to realize that you are not like any other woman I've seen."

"Oh, you listen," I flashed a nervous grin, "But still, perhaps you are lying and I have terrible hair," I pointed a joking finger, "Or bad teeth!"

"Now that's not fair for you at all," he scooted closer and pushed a strand of my hair back, actually stroking it for a couple seconds, "If you could see yourself, you're...you're beautiful."

"Oh, John," I looked around with an incessant blush, my nervousness working its way as a smile, "I think you're a bit-"

His finger was placed on my lips and cut off my words, "Don't you dare finish that sentence." And before I knew it, he pressed his lips against mine for a small kiss. It was so brief I barely felt it, but the shock was still there. He pulling back, looking so nervous that I almost found time to smile. "I've never, um..."

I was nervous, yes...but more shocked than anything. Was this right? Or was it like I was taking advantage of the situation where he wasn't even fully conscious...I think I was. But I looked up, and for a moment, our eyes connected and I just had to...and I thought he agreed. He leaned over again, and we kissed once more. It was based upon a lie but I couldn't care, not when my heart was beating at light-speed out of joy. From his side, I felt his feelings pouring out; he could feel something for me and as much as I knew I had to pull away, I couldn't...because for a split second...just for one second...my feelings had been reciprocated by the most wonderful man in the universe.

But then we heard the door open up and broke apart to see Martha coming in, her eyes widening in a second.

"Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced?" the Doctor demanded, very cross.

"S-sorry," she looked around, "Uh...the headmaster...he was looking for..." she pointed at me with a shaky finger, "...Miss Greene."

"Oh," he looked back to me, "Will I still see you in the evening?" he sounded afraid for some reason.

I smiled faintly, "Yes. Martha will bring me here if that's okay," I stood up from the couch.

"Yes, yes, that's fine," he also stood up and guided me to Martha, "I suppose I'll owe you the coffee."

"Yes, I suppose you do..." I bit my lip, the blush growing deeper, "...until tonight, John."

"C'mon, Miss," Martha linked an arm with me and led us out into the corridor.

As soon as we closed the door, I let out a big and heavy sigh, "I am so sorry, Martha. I may have ruined everything but..." I put my fingers on my lips, "...I don't really care."

She rolled her eyes, chuckling lightly, "It's my theory time," she grabbed my arm and walked us for my room, closing the door with its lock.

"Martha, I'm really sorry though-"

"Shush it, lover girl," she held a hand out, "Theory time."

"No," I plopped down on my bed.

"Yes," she put her hands on her hips, "Gotta hand it to you though, wanted a kiss and you went for it."

"No! See, I kissed his cheek and I thought I would be fine with it, but...he kissed me...and I should've stopped it but..." I sighed, shaking my head, "...I couldn't. I've fallen too deep."

"Minerva, this theory, you really wanna hear it. Before the Doctor left, he explained a few things, remember? He said that some things could start seeping through John Smith."

"So?"

"So, I'm thinking, if the human version is falling for you, maybe it means that the original version might have already fallen," she had the biggest grin on her face that it could nearly break her.

"Martha, you say such silly things," I shook my head.

"What!? Minerva! he," she gestured to the door, "-kissed you! Are you really that stubborn to see it!?"

"This is the human version, and as much as it pains me...whatever happens will be gone in a month. And I hope to dear God that he doesn't remember an ounce of it...because I am gonna take advantage of every moment I have with John Smith. Is that bad of me?"

She just smiled and came over to give me a hug.

~0~

"Lisabetha, you look absolutely wonderful!" the Doctor exclaimed, making me blush for like the millionth time in under the ten minutes that I've been here.

"Thank you," I looked down in an attempt to hide my red face from him, "I'm sure you look dashing as well."

Dramatic sigh...indeed, he did.

I wore a lavender and baby blue dress that went down to my feet. The baby blue layer was covered by a thin, lavender chiffon layer that was lifted to form an upside-down 'V' in the front of the dress, letting the blue be seen. There was a laced blue belt going around my waist, with a silver beading as well as the hemlines of the three-quarter sleeves. The lavender layer went into a deep V-neckline style at the top as well, with the baby blue layer underneath covering up my chest and allowing me to wear Kaeya's necklace right above it. My hair was moved over to one side, one twist starting from my left side and going down where it was fastened with a clip.

"Trust me, not as good as you do," the Doctor walked over, "And, while you're in such a good mood, I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" I asked, worried that he might have had second thoughts about our attendance together.

"I may or may not know how to dance," he said, shyly.

I started to smile, remembering the lessons back in China, "I think you may know some steps."

"I'm not really sure..." and poor thing really did seem unsure about it.

"You know, you're not really sure about anything, are you?" I teased, hoping to get a smile out of him.

"Oh, I'm sure about something."

"And what's that?"

He took a step closer, "You."

And cue the blush. "Oh..."

He put a finger under my chin and made me look up. He leaned down for a soft kiss which I very much responded to. Sadly, it only lasted a few moments before Martha ran inside, completely out of breath.

"Martha!" he scolded, "This is getting ridiculous!"

"They've found us! They found us!"

My eyes widened, "What?"

"They found us!" she panted for air, "It's...Jenny, I think...they took her or something...possessed her!"

"Martha, I've warned you," the Doctor grew angry.

"I've seen them and they look like people, like us, like normal!" she continued, ignoring him for the moment, "He has to open the watch!" she looked at the mantelpiece...and it wasn't there, "Oh my god...where is it?"

"What are you talking about?" the Doctor asked.

"You had a fob watch," she pointed, "Where is it!?"

"Did I? I don't remember."

"It's gone?" I asked, nervously, my necklace beginning to burn a bit again, "Ah," I put a finger around the chains, "Kaeya, what is it?" I whispered to myself while the two battled it out.

"But we need it... oh my god, Doctor we're hiding from aliens, and they've got Jenny and they've... possessed her or copied her or something and you've got to tell me, where's the watch?" Martha turned to us, completely frantic.

The necklace desisted in its burn but the icy feeling returned to my head, making me feel the watch was indeed gone...and in someone's hands, "Martha? You've got to calm down-"

She looked back like I had lost it, "Minerva, they're here!"

"Yes, and the watch isn't here...as you said. Maybe we should go out and look for it...at the dance," I hoped she'd catch on that the watch had been moved for some reason.

"Min-"

"Lisabetha, don't listen to her," the Doctor pulled me back, "Martha, 'Minerva' was a dream, and frankly, I think you should go take a rest."

She looked irritated beyond everything, "Oh you complete..." she stepped closer, "...this," she pointed at him, "Is not you. This is 1913!"

"Yes, it is 1913," he agreed, nodding.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry but I've got to snap you out of this," and without a further word, she slapped him.

My mouth drew open, "Oh my god..."

"Wake up! You're coming back to the TARDIS!"

"How dare you! I'm not going anywhere with an insane servant!" the Doctor snapped, grabbing her wrists and dragging her to the doors, "Martha, you are dismissed, you will leave these premises immediately. Not get out!" he pushed her out and slammed the door.

"John..." I said, quietly.

"It's okay, it's okay! I'm here," he rushed back, "I'm sorry for that, I don't know what's gotten into her."

I sighed, "I think maybe things have gotten out of hand."

"You're telling me!" he rubbed his cheek.

"But you know, if she says the watch is gone, maybe it is gone. How about you take a look? Please? For me?"

"Well," he sighed and looked around, "No, I guess it's not around anymore," he linked an arm with me, "Please, let's not let her ruin this evening for us."

But somehow I believed this was far from over...the necklace then continued to burn me.

~0~

"Would you care for a dance?" the Doctor asked, although he was already leading me to the dance floor.

I chuckled, "Sure, will my feet survive?"

"I'm...not so sure," he admitted.

"Well," I said as he grabbed my hand and we stood in our place, "Let's find out," we started dancing and for the moment, everything seemed good, "Look, you can dance," I smiled, my lessons had paid off.

"Maybe it's because I'm dancing with such a pretty girl," he smiled softly, right before we bumped into another pair, "Sorry," he muttered and I laughed.

After the dance finished up, we returned to our table and sat down, "Would you care for some drinks?" he asked.

"That would be fine, thank you," I nodded.

He kissed the top of my head and walked off, leaving me to blush in his absence. I really hoped the Doctor wouldn't remember any of this afterwards.

"Miss Greene?" Joan walked up, "It's me, Joan."

"Hello, Joan," I smiled, "You attended the dance?"

"Yes, I thought it could be nice. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

"Not at all," I gestured to a random seat, "Did you come alone?"

"No, I brought someone else but...I seem to have lost him," she searched around the room.

"Give him a shout and he'll show up," I chuckled.

"And you? I saw Mr. Smith around."

"Yes, he went for some drinks."

"Minerva?" Martha's voice called, a few seconds later approaching the table, "I've got it," she held the Doctor's screwdriver.

I sighed, "Good. The watch is here Martha."

"How do you know?"

I looked around, ignoring Joan's shocked face at the loss of my English accent and my gain of sight, "Kaeya's burning me again," I lifted my necklace and showed Martha the burned spot, "I can feel her in my head...it's like...she's squishing everything inside."

"Take it off!" she nearly shouted.

"I can't. She's helping."

"Minerva!"

"I'm sorry, but..." Joan stood up, still staring at me, "...what's going on?"

"Please keep the secret until it is time," I told her slowly, "It's something I want to do."

"But...Miss Greene," she gestured to her eyes.

"Oh, now really, Martha. This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave," the Doctor returned holding our drinks.

Martha held the sonic screwdriver at him, looking firmly, "Do you know what this is? Name it. Go on, name it," he set the drinks on the table and stared at the screwdriver, slowly reaching for it, "You're not John Smith. You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you."

But before he could respond, there was a loud commotion by the entrance, people shrieking and moving away as a man, Clarke if I remembered by the Headmaster's words, entered holding a gun, "There will be silence! All of you!" scarecrows filed in after Jenny and another student, Baines, "I said silence!"

"Mr Clarke! What's going on?" the announce of the dance asked, only to be dissolved less than a second later by Clarke.

I gasped and stood up, "We've been caught."

"Mr Smith, everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything," Martha quickly said, moving beside me, "Any plans?" she whispered.

"I'll let you know..."

"We asked for silence! Now then. We have a few questions for Mr Smith," Baines directed himself to the Doctor.

"No, better than that," a little girl holding a red balloon skipped onto the dance floor, "The teacher. He's the Doctor. I heard them talking."

"You took human form," Baines looked on with surprise.

"Of course I'm human, I was born human! As were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mr Clarke! What is going on, this is madness!" the poor Martian frantically asked.

"And a human brain, too! Simple, thick and dull."

"You will leave," I ordered.

"Way to keep it down-low, Minerva," Martha mock-glared.

I covered my mouth, "Martha...I didn't say that," she raised an eyebrow, now staring with concern.

"He's no good like this," Jenny said.

"We need a Time Lord."

"Easily done," Baines stepped forwards and raised his own gun at the Doctor, the Martian stepping back as the crowd gasped, "Change back."

I was going to attempt and stop them but the iciness started up again, halting me in my spot, "Ow..." I rubbed my head.

"Minerva?" Martha frowned.

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Doctor shook his head.

"Change back!"

"I literally do not know-"

Jenny suddenly grabbed Martha, snatching her away before I could even reach out, "Get off me!" she shouted, Jenny only smirking.

"She's your friend, isn't she? Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?" Jenny spoke to the Doctor.

"I don't know what you mean!"

"Wait a minute...the maid told me about Smith and the blind one over there," she nodded to me, "...that woman, there!"

"Let's have you!" Clarke grabbed my wrist and pulled me forwards.

"Have you enjoyed it, Doctor? Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser?" Baines questioned, standing in the middle of us, "Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Your friend, or your lover? Your choice."

"Make your decision, Mr. Smith," Jenny smiled, wickedly.

"Minerva?" Martha had stopped her struggling as she noticed that I was staring down with a blank expression, "She's not okay!" she exclaimed to the others, as if that would make a difference, "Please, let me help her!"

But inside my body it felt like the cold was taking over. A cold, prickly ice numbing every inch of my body and brain...clearing out things inside my mind...as if making room for another...and failing. Everything was being squished together, one memory over another, the cold spreading and intensifying. My chest and head started hurting like crazy.

"Perhaps if that human heart breaks, the Time Lord will emerge," Baines smirked.

And then the necklace burned...but it no longer burned my skin...

"NO!," I gripped Clarke's hand, ice beginning to emerge from my fingertips, "You will let go, NOW!" and swiftly I broke free from the man, turning around.

"Minerva," Martha whispered, her eyes widening again.

But it felt like something was compressing my mind...like when Cassandra had taken over my head. Dear God it hurt. "I am not about to let you hurt him," I spoke, my voice overlapping with another, a voice I recognized completely.

"Kaeya?" Martha gaped.

"I didn't wait centuries for the Doctor to be killed in front of me," I/Kaeya pointed a finger at them, "You will leave him, and you will leave him now."

"Who are you?" Baines demanded.

"I am in the body of a feeble human, but not for long," I/Kaeya smiled, "You may recall the Silver Monsoon, I am its princess. I am Kaeya. And under my orders you shall leave the Doctor and his companions alone."

But he held up a gun at me, Kaeya not so pleased.

"Time Lord..." we heard a whisper from the room.

"It's him!" Baines pointed.

Quickly, I grabbed the gun from his hand and fired right past Baines, making him drop the gun he was holding, "Step away from the gun, right now! John, the gun."

He stared on, full of shock and confusion, "But you...your eyes...you can...see? And your voice...what's...your voice..."

"John, the gun," I/Kaeya repeated, louder. When he did I turned back to Jenny and Clarke, "Now I'm gonna ask one time, nicely, to let go of the human right now."

"Well, what do we have here?" Jenny smirked, "Can you see?"

"The human was always capable of seeing, she was merely faking for the safety of our Doctor."

I gasped, putting a hand on my head, looking at Martha with watery eyes, "It hurts. She's in my head and it hurts! Make it stop...please!"

Martha became desperate to be free, "Kaeya! Leave her alone! It's compressing her to death!"

"She will be fine," Kaeya took over again. I/Kaeya pointed the gun at Jenny, a dark feeling taking over my face, "Let go before I kill you. And do not think I shall hesitate for it was people like you that I was killed by. He killed me for a better life. You will suffer the fate he should've had."

"Careful wife of mine," Clarke said, "We don't want any of us dying."

"We'll shoot you down!" Baines snapped.

"And you'll die, end of story. I want Martha freed, NOW."

Baines took a good look into my narrowed eyes, seeing Kaeya was not joking, "Mother..."

"Martha Jones, escort the Doctor and everyone else out of this building," I/Kaeya ordered, Kaeya's voice only getting stronger.

"You need to leave her body alone! She's just human, Kaeya!" Martha pleaded, rushing over to me, "Minerva, can you hear me!?"

"This is for the Doctor, he comes first. Please leave."

She looked past me to the others, sighing and resuming her work, "Alright, you heard her! Go! Matron, please help me!"

While they ushered everyone out, Kaeya and I dealt with the little threat, well Kaeya more than I.

"Kaeya it's hurting me...please..." I pleaded both mentally and externally, my hand over my chest, feeling it compress.

"There is a message to give," she declared.

~0~

"Minerva!" Martha ran to meet me, she, the Doctor and even Joan were still outside the school, a few feet away from it, even after Kaeya's specific instructions.

"What are you all still doing here!?" I yanked off Kaeya's necklace, barely catching my breath, "Kaeya said to run!"

"I could give a crap what that woman said, how's your head?" she studied it frantically, reminding me of the Doctor suddenly.

"She's gone for the moment," I moved past her to the Doctor, Joan a few feet behind, "Are you okay?"

"You're name is Lisabetha..." he whispered, his eyes still wide from the shock, "...Minerva is...she's the-"

"The Doctor's companion, yeah, hello," I waved my fingers, "That's me."

"But..."

"My name's not Lisabetha. I'm not English. And, as you can clearly see, I'm not blind!"

He blinked, "But...you can't be..."

"Clearly I am!" I exclaimed, the tears quick to form at his reactions, "And I'm sorry!"

"Lisabetha," he whispered, stepping closer, "You're not..." he brushed the side of my face with his fingers, "...but..."

I sighed, "My name is Minerva and I'm the Doctor's companion. And you know this because you're him."

"Well don't just stand there!" Martha ran past us, reminding us of that thing we had to do, RUN! "Let's go! Let's go!"

"Martha! We need the watch!" I said, as we ran, "But it's not here anymore! It headed back to the school! Kaeya said so!"

"You two are insane!" the Doctor snapped.

"So are you!" We both replied back.

~0~

We ran back to the school where the Doctor closed the doors and suddenly began ringing a bell.

"What are you doing?" Martha demanded.

"Maybe one can't fight them, but this school teaches us to stand together!" he replied, still frantically ringing the bell, "Take arms! Take arms!"

"Doctor, you can't," I followed him around, "They're just kids!"

"Look, I don't know who you are, but you know who I am and I'm gonna fight," he walked off before suddenly glancing back, "And I'm John."

I sighed, "Martha, what are we gonna do?"

"What in thunder's name is this?" I heard the headmaster walking down the stairs, "Before I devise an excellent and endless series of punishments for each and every one of you, could someone explain very simply and immediately exactly what is going on?"

"Headmaster, I have to report the school is under attack," the Doctor walked to him.

"Really? Is that so? Perhaps you and I should have a word in private."

"I promise you, sir. I was in the village with Lis..." the Doctor looked at me, "Your sister. And she saw - heard it - all. It's Jeremy Baines and Mr. Clark from the Oakham Farm. They've gone mad, sir."

"Lisabetha?" he turned back and I immediately reverted to my act.

"Yes, brother?"

"Is everything he just said, true?"

"It's true..." I sighed.

"Murder on our own soil?"

"Yes..."

"Perhaps you did well then, Mr. Smith. What makes you think the danger's coming here?"

"Well, sir, they said, um..."

"Baines threatened him," I spoke up, "They're gonna follow him and try to hurt him."

"Very well," the headmaster nodded, "Remain on guard," he walked off to give more orders.

"You're helping?" the Doctor asked, confused.

"You can be mad, but if we did this, we did it for you."

He looked for a moment like he'd reconsider but it all went to hell when he started ordering the boys to load up the weapons.

"Doctor, please! You can't do this!" Martha cried, both of us just plainly horrified.

"Maintain position over the stable yard," he ordered a student.

"They're just boys! You can't ask them to fight!" I exclaimed.

"Faster now! That's it," he ignored us.

"They don't stand a chance!"

"They're cadets, Miss Jones, Miss...who ever you are," he threw me a quick look, "They are trained to defend the King and all his properties."

I sighed, this wasn't going to work, "Martha, we have to find that watch," I started wrapping Kaeya's necklace around my neck again.

"No! You can't put that on anymore," she put a hand on mine and stopped me from fastening the necklace.

"I have to. Kaeya can help. She can feel the watch," I fastened it and sighed, "And if she needs to take over my body then so be it. Anything to help the Doctor."

"You know she's taking advantage of that, right?"

"How do you mean?"

"If she's a spirit, she needs a physical body. It's like that Gelth you told me about. They need a body, Kaeya needs a body. She's taking advantage of your feelings for the Doctor to take over your body because you're allowing her to do so without a fight."

"Oh Martha, that's not it," I sighed, "Kaeya...she's...never mind," I swallowed hard and focused on the primary problem, no emotions could get in the way now, "Kaeya..." I whispered, feeling the small prick of ice inside.

"Minerva," she sighed.

"We've got to upstairs, maybe in his office," I grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

~0~

We searched and searched for the damn pocket watch in John Smith's office, and came up with nothing.

"What are you two doing?" Matron Joan's voice startled us. She stood by the doorway, looking crossed for some reason, and even dressed as the Matron once more.

"We're search for the watch, you haven't seen it by any chance?" I asked with ridiculous amount of hope; we were getting desperate.

"No, and you, Miss Greene-"

"Oh my god, that's not me!" I shook my head, returning to the search by Martha, "That's some poor, blind woman halfway across the world."

"Then why have you taken her name? Her position?"

"Because I had to be near the Doctor, alright!?" I nearly shouted. Couldn't anyone understand that? I needed to be close to the Doctor, I needed to watch and care for him while he wasn't completely there.

"Look," Martha cut in, sensing my growing agitation, "We know it sounds mad, but when the Doctor became human, he took the alien part of himself and stored it inside the watch. It's not really a watch, it just looks like a watch."

"And alien means...not from abroad, I take it."

"The man you call John Smith...he was born on another world."

"A different species."

"Yeah."

"Then tell me, in this fairy tale...who are you two?"

"I'm just a friend, but she," Martha placed her hands on my shoulders, "She is so much more whether either of them want to admit it."

"Martha," I shook her hands off me.

"You're human I take it?" Joan asked Martha, giving me quick glances of doubt.

"I'm human too," I nodded, "But this necklace," I pointed to it, "The owner of it is alien too. She can take over the body when needed."

"More like steal and possess," Martha muttered.

I rolled my eyes and ignored her, "We're both human. I'm a student, last year actually. Martha is training to be a doctor-not an alien doctor-a proper doctor, a doctor of medicine. She's good like that," I smiled proudly at her.

"Well that certainly is nonsense. Women might train to be doctors, but hardly a skivvy and hardly one of her color," was the matron's response.

"Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow, "If you base skills over skin color then you are the stupidest woman in the world. Because, Martha, happens to know more than you and I combined about medicine. Martha?"

"Bones of the hand," my good old best friend held up her left hand, "Carpal bones, proximal row; scaphoid, lunate, triquetrum, pisiform. Distal row; trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metecarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges; proximal, middle, distal," she pointed to each said bone like a professional.

"You read that in a book."

Martha just laughed, "Yes, to pass my exams. Can't you see this is true?"

"I must go," Joan turned away.

"Matron, please, we don't mean to be rude but...if we find that watch we can stop them," I sighed, "Please help us."

"Those boys are going to fight. I might not be a doctor, nor a clever liar, but I'm still their nurse. They need me."

Clever liar.

I think that's the perfect way to describe myself, actually...

~0~

Martha and I were hurrying down the hallways, hoping to find the watch somewhere on the floor, in case it had been accidentally dropped it or something.

On a turn of the hallway, I gasped as I felt the watch, it's insides, being shown to someone...

"Minerva? What is it?" Martha had stopped running and turned back.

"It's Kaeya, she's showing me again. I saw the Doctor, the real him, a memory..." I rubbed the side of my head, another rubbing over my heart.

"How can she do that?" she walked back, looking at the necklace, "It's burning you again, isn't it?" she frowned when I nodded, "Take it off!"

"No, it's helping us. And, I think her telepathic abilities were low. Or...maybe stronger? Oh I don't know! I'm only human!"

"Carrying an alien inside her head," she shook her head, "Who is killing her!" she rose her voice purposely, "If you can hear me Kaeya, get out of my best friend's head! You're gonna kill her and the Doctor will never forgive you for it."

"Enough," I declared.

~0~

"Stand to!" the headmaster ordered the boys, all of them plus the Doctor awaiting to begin their fire.

"I can't believe he's really gonna do this," I sighed to Martha, she and I watching them from inside.

"It's not like he has much of a choice," she tried to make a reason out of the gun use.

"He doesn't use them, that was one thing that made me like him even more," I said quietly, seeing the gates of the school moving from what I assumed were the Family, "No weapons, just a silly little screwdriver."

Scarecrows burst through the gate as it cracked apart, actually walking ones.

"Fire!"

And the boys fired, everyone fired...except the Doctor.

A small smile escaped my lips, "You can't do it."

"Cease fire!" the headmaster ordered, walking over to the bodies, "They're straw. Like he said. Straw!"

"Minerva," Martha nudged me and nodded ahead, both of us now seeing the same little girl with the red balloon.

"Let's go!" I ran for the exits, both of us entering the courtyard just as the headmaster was approaching the girl.

"You child, come out of the way. Come into the school. You don't know who's out there. It's the Cartwright girl, isn't it? Come here. Come to me."

"Mr. Greene, please. Don't go near her," Martha called.

"Listen to us, she's part of it!" I exclaimed, leaving the man perplexed ad my accent had been dropped and my sight regained for the first time in front of him.

"You can...you can see?" he gaped.

"Yes and bigger picture here is I think you should stay back."

"Mr. Smith, tell him," Martha Caledonia to him.

"She was-she was with-with Baines in the village," the Doctor stuttered nervously.

"Mr Smith, I've seen many strange sights this night but there is no cause on God's earth that would allow me to see this child in the field of battle, sir," and so the headmaster turned to the little girl, "Come with me."

"You're funny," she giggled.

"That's right. Now take my hand."

"So funny," she whipped out a gun and shot the headmaster dead, "Now who's going to shoot me?" she looked around, a nasty smirk on her face, "Any of you, really?"

"Put down your guns," the Doctor ordered the boys as he himself lowered his rifle.

"But sir," Hutchinson argued, "The headmaster-"

"I'll not see this happen. Not anymore," he shook his head, "You will retreat...in an orderly fashion back through the school. Hutchinson, lead the way."

"But sir-"

"I said, lead the way!"

"Go on, then, run!" Baines walked beside the little girl and fired up to the sky.

"Come on!" I gestured for the way, making sure all the boys were away before Martha and I hurried after.

~0~

"Let's go!" Quick as you can!" the Doctor ordered the boys we had managed to help escape, passing them through the stables.

"And don't go to the village!" I called, "It's not safe!"

"And you, ladies!" the Doctor turned to Martha and I.

"You wish!" we snapped, leaving him to blink in surprise.

"I have to insist..."

"We have to decline," I countered.

"Help!" we heard a voice shout.

"Hold on, is that Matron Joan?" Martha listened intently.

"They've got her," I ran back from where we came from, "Kaeya, I'll need some help," I stopped as I saw the scarecrows nearing.

"Minerva, you've got to get back!" Martha exclaimed, she and the Doctor right behind me.

"No, he wouldn't let someone die, neither shall I," I took a long breath, "C'mon, Kaeya, take over again..." There was nothing though, like she didn't care. I frowned, "C'mon Kaeya. The Doctor wouldn't allow anyone to die and you know it." Slowly, the ice pricked at the sides of my head. Poor Matron Joan was barely keeping out of the grasps of the scarecrows when she neared us, "Back," I ordered, my voice overlapping with Kaeya's again. Ice rushed through the ground, freezing everything in its path...including the scarecrows.

"Matron!" Martha called, the woman spinning around at all the ice, "Hurry!"

"It won't last long," I/Kaeya warned, "I'm not ready. The ice will melt."

"How did you do that?" Joan stared at me with wide eyes.

I gasped, feeling Kaeya's presence fade away, yet a sharp pain strike at a side of my head, "Ah!"

"I've got you!" the Doctor lunged for me as soon as my legs gave out.

"As usual," I smiled lazily, my eyes threatening to close, "I'm tired...my head...I'm tired."

"We've got you," Martha assured, moving beside the Doctor and helping him support me on my feet, "Now we've got to run!"

Matron Joan nodded and hurried for another door, only to open it and find more scarecrows on the other side, "I think another way will have to be considered!" she shouted and we turned to run off.

~0~

By the time we found a new hiding place, behind bushes not too far from the school, I felt much better...that and the fact Martha had yanked Kaeya's necklace from my neck and no longer allowed me to use it. As much as I didn't want to admit it, without the necklace my head did feel less crowded and more at peace.

"Doctor! Doctor!" we heard Clark call, nearly singing as a tease.

"Oh no..." I whispered, seeing the box of wonders in their possessions, "Not the TARDIS."

"Come back, Doctor. Come home. Come and claim your prize."

Out you come, Doctor! There's a good boy. Come to the Family," Baines joined the sing-a-long.

"Time to end it now!" added Jenny.

"You recognize it, don't you?" Martha asked the Doctor, making me look over and see him staring at the box in silence.

"I've never seen it in my life," he muttered.

"Oh c'mon, don't you remember its name?"

"No."

"Doctor, don't play stupid, you dreamed of the blue box," I reminded, giving him a sharp look.

"I'm not him!" he voice broke, "I'm not-I'm John Smith. That's all I want to be. John Smith, with his life...and his job...and his love. Why can't I be John Smith? Isn't he a good man?"

"Because we need the Doctor," I said softly, forcing myself to ignore the word 'love'.

""But I want to stay!"

"But you can't!" Martha sighed, "Don't you see?"

"What am I, then? Nothing? I'm just a story," he ran off.

I sighed, "This is not going to be easy."

"I'm so sorry, Minerva," Martha put a hand over my shoulder.

I looked after him, "I knew it wouldn't last anyways," I stood up and went to follow him.

~0~

"Hold on," Matron Joan stopped us all in the middle of a country road, all of us out of breath, "I think I know somewhere we can hide."

"We've got to keep going," I said.

"Just listen to me, clever liar."

"Oi, don't call her that," Martha frowned.

"I don't mean it as an insult, it's just what you are," she showed a hint of a smile, "You're a real clever liar. Faking an accent, plus blindness? How old are you?"

"Almost eighteen," I panted.

"Incredible," she playfully rolled her eyes, "Well, this way," she pointed and we continued to run.

~0~

Joan brought us to a dark house, "Here we are. It should be empty. Oh, it's a long time since I've run that far," she panted for air.

"But who lives here?" I looked around, seeing no one for the moment.

"If I'm right, no one," she opened the font door, peering inside then letting us inside. It was only a simple cottage kitchen with a tea set on the table, "Hello? No one home. We should be safe here."

"Whose house is it, though?" Martha asked.

"Um, the Cartwrights. That little girl at the school-she's Lucy Cartwright, or she's taken Lucy Cartwright's form. If she came home this afternoon and if the parents tried to stop their little girl, then they were vanished," Joan set her hand on the teapot, "Stone cold. How easily I accept these ideas."

The Doctor took a seat on the one of the chairs, poor thing looking horrified at the prior events, "Are you alright?" I walked over to him, bending in front of him.

"I must go to them before anyone else dies."

"No, you won't. We'll have to think of something else."

"But Minerva, we need the watch!" Martha reminded, shaking her head.

"I know, but it wasn't at the school anymore..." I looked back at her, pleading with a look.

"No, you are not getting the necklace back."

"But please?" I stood up and walked towards her, "If Kaeya can feel it then she'll bring us to it!"

"No! Absolutely not! Minerva, she's compressing your head! It hurts!"

"It doesn't matter-"

"YES IT DOES!" she shouted, making me flinch, everything falling silent after that. She sighed, controlling herself to speak again, "You say those famous words but I can see through them, the Doctor can too, and guess what? It does matter."

I sighed, looking down, it was the end of my argument...

"You're this Doctor's companion! Can't you help?" the Doctor suddenly spoke up, angrily looking at Martha, "What exactly do you do for him? Why does he need you?"

"Because he's lonely," she replied.

"And that's what you want me to become? Lonely?" he looked so broken.

"No, no! The Doctor stopped being lonely long before I came around," Martha set a hand on my shoulder, "She was with him, she always made him better and he made her better. The Doctor wasn't lonely anymore, he's not."

A knock on the door ended our conversation, all of us turning to the door.

"What if it's them?" Joan whispered.

"Mm, somehow I don't think scarecrows can knock," I said before walking over to the door. I opened the door and found Timothy standing there, "Let me guess..." I raised an eyebrow, the boy holding out the pocket watch.

"I brought you this."

"Minerva," it whispered.

"It can talk," Martha blinked, the rest of us hearing her own name being spoken by the watch.

"That's what Kaeya was picking up," I remarked, letting Timothy inside and closing the door, "And I suppose you were the one that had the watch this whole time," I took it from him and walked up to the Doctor, "Please hold it."

"I can't..." he stared it with fear.

"It told me to find you," Timothy said, "It wants to be held."

"But if you had it all this time, why didn't you return it?" Martha asked, slightly annoyed, "You know how crazy we've been looking for it?"

"It was waiting. And because I was scared of the Doctor."

"Why?" I asked, frowning.

"Because...I've seen him...he's...like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm in the heart of the sun."

"Stop it," the Doctor ordered.

"He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the universe."

"Stop! I said stop it!"

"And he's wonderful."

"My thoughts exactly," I murmured with a soft smile.

There was an explosion outside and made the house shutter a bit.

"What the hell was that?" Martha ran to the window.

We joined and saw the 'meteorites' falling from the sky and causing more explosions.

"They're going to destroy the village," I said, sadly.

"Watch," the Doctor said and I turned to see him holding the watch in his hands.

"Can you hear it?" Timothy asked.

"Closer, Closer..."

"I think he's asleep. Waiting to be awaken," the Doctor stared at the watch intently.

"Why did he speak to me?" Timothy frowned.

"Oh, low-level telepathic field. You were born with it. Just an extra synpatic engram causing-" the Doctor gasped deeply, "Is that how he talks?" he looked me with great fear.

I nodded, "That's him. You just have to open it and we get the Martian back."

"You knew this all along and yet you let us..." he trailed off, "Both of you..." he glanced at Martha.

"It was my fault," my best friend stepped up, "Minerva was keeping her distance and then I pushed her to you. This one was me."

"No, Martha," I shook my head, "If I wanted to I could've stopped it. I could've stopped it the moment we kissed...and I didn't. And for that," I walked up to him, taking his hand, "Please forgive me. I beg of you."

"He gave us this list," Martha began, "It was the things we needed to watch out for but this one wasn't included."

"Falling in love? That didn't even occur to him?" he asked, incredulously.

"In love?" I repeated, quietly, stepping back, "You fell in love with me?"

"Like an idiot, I did."

"Noo..." I couldn't even make a coherent sentence, "...I am so sorry."

"Is that the sort of man you want me to become?" he demanded, "Someone who doesn't even think of the possibility of love?"

"But it was always going to end, though!" Martha exclaimed, "The Doctor said the Family's got a limited lifespan. That's why they need to consume a Time Lord. Otherwise, three months and they die. Like mayflies, he said."

"So your job was to execute me," he voice shook with fear.

"People are dying out there! They need him! We need him! Some more than others..." she trailed off, giving me a quick glance.

"Look, the world really needs him," I sighed, "You have no idea the things he can do. And right now, we need those things. I didn't plan for any of this, I swear. We were here to keep you safe and hidden. And I hope, when he comes back, he either doesn't remember any of this or he forgives me," I bit my lip, "But we really need him to come back."

The house shook again with the explosions.

"It's getting closer..." Timothy looked around.

"I should have thought of it before..." the Doctor held out the watch, "I can give them this. Just the watch. They can leave and I can stay as I am!"

"You can't," I said, quietly.

"Why not?" he took my hand, "I know it's early, but I've fallen for you. And, I'm willing to bet you feel something for me."

"But it's not real. The Doctor doesn't love me. We're good friends, just friends. And the world needs him."

"If they get what they want, then-"

"It'd end in destruction," I cut him off, keeping myself as rigid as possible, "I don't know what exactly they need a Time Lord for, but it can't be for good reasons. I can't let that happen." And it hurt, it hurt, seeing him on the verge of tears. "Martha? Do you mind if we talk alone for a bit?" I looked back at her.

She nodded, "We'll be right out there," she took Timothy with her and Joan and closed the door behind them.

I sighed, "I'm-"

But the Doctor broke down and clung to me for a hug. I stumbled back with him, but didn't reject it. I hugged back, really tight and forced my tears to stay inside. I would not let him see me cry. This time, I had to be the strong one.

"What am I supposed to do?" he cried, "I don't believe any of it," he pulled back and looked at me, "I'm real. I'm real."

"Well...in a sense..." I tried meeting him halfway, "...he's not entirely real you see-"

"'He'? I'm a 'he', now?"

I bit my lip, "I'm sorry."

"Lis-Minerva, it's Minerva right?" I nodded, "I'm real. I'm John Smith and I'm real."

"I don't like doing this..." I shook my head, "Tell me about Nottingham. That's where you were raised, right?"

He nodded, "Well...it lies on the River Leen, its southern boundary following the course of the River Trent flows from Stoke to the Humber."

"That sounds like an encyclopedia. Where did you live?"

"Broadmoor Street, adjacent to Hotley Terrace in the district of Radford Parade."

"Those are just facts, don't you see?" I sighed, knowing it was only worsening his state but I had to make him see that all this wasn't real, "When you were a child, where did you play? The secret little places you'd hide when you were in trouble...the hideaways that only a child knows? Tell me about it. Tell me and I'll believe you."

He had no answer, of course and became desperate as the silence grew, "But...how can you think that I'm not real? When I kissed you, was that a lie?"

"Well...no...but..." I walked around him, suppressing my oncoming tears.

"Then? This Doctor person...sounds like some...some romantic lost prince. Would you rather that? Am I not enough?"

"I'm just his friend. And I'm trying to save him."

"But he doesn't love you, I do!" he spun me around, the tears visible in his eyes as well, "What about me, Minerva? Do I not count? I'm real and I love you."

"But it's not real," I insisted, more to myself than him.

"Our kisses, they were real!" He grabbed my arms and pulled me to him, "You felt the same thing I did." He leaned down, brushing his lips against mine, "Tell me you didn't?"

I tried pulling back before I let myself go but he held me tight, not allowing such a thing, "I...I don't know. None of this real."

"Don't tell me they weren't real," he slammed his lips against mine for a kiss.

"...st...sto-" came my muffled attempts to stop him but his lips became so soft and loving, something I had yearned for so long. It was too tempting. And so I gave in.

He started moving us backwards until we hit the back of the couch, my heart just able to resist the urge to burst out from my chest. I wanted to stop, yes...but my hands made their way up to his shoulders instead and his arms wrapped around me. I had to will myself to stop, stop what wasn't real...because it wasn't real.

"Stop," I turned my head, the tears streaming down my face like a water well, "We-we can't."

He put a finger under my chin, forcing me to look at him, "You can't say this is false. I've proven you wrong."

"You need to stop before I fall in love with you," I swallowed hard. It actually scared me how real those words were.

"Do it," he gently kissed me again, "Fall in love with me," he murmured against my lips.

"No..." I sniffled, pushing him off, "...don't do this to me, please."

He sighed and moved to sit beside me, his hand taking mine, "Do you love him?"

"Hm?" I barely took a glance at him. I needed to collect myself before I let anyone else see me.

"The Doctor. Do you love him?"

"No, not yet," I rubbed my head, "But he's so extraordinary, I've no doubt he'd make me fall in love with him not so far off in the future."

"And me? What about me?"

I looked at him, softly smiling, "Look at you. You're him, a version of him. Anything I feel for him, I feel for you."

"But it's not real...my feelings for you are real. But the ones you have for me aren't. You see me, you see the Doctor. Your feelings are for him...not for me."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, "I do care for you, I really do, but none of this is real. And it can't ever happen."

He pulled the watch out again, twisting it around, "If I open it, he comes back?"

I nodded, cautiously watching him, "Yeah."

"And if I don't..."

"Lots of people can die."

"I...I'm confused," he shook his head.

"Look, in the end, it is your choice and only your choice. But if you don't open it because of me, I'll tell you right now that I can't be with you. I won't."

"Why not?"

"Because...it wouldn't be right. The Doctor doesn't deserve to live a life with me without being who he really was. He deserves to be himself and fully conscious of what he's doing. But don't worry, if you think it's unfair, we wouldn't be together even if the Doctor came back."

"Why?" he frowned.

"I age. One day, if God allows, I'll be 70...80 if I get really lucky. But the Doctor doesn't age. I can spend my whole life with him, my whole life...and for him it would only be a mere eighty years he spent out of a long, nearly eternal life," I took the watch from him, "I'm just a ghost for him...one small little human who's gonna die in a second."

"But don't you see, I wouldn't age like he does...I-" he reached for my hand, both of us touching the fob watch at the same time...and we saw...

It was him and I, getting married.

And then I gave birth to..our child. Our first child. Years later we were walking down the park with our three children, swinging our youngest in our hands. Finally, years and years later, the Doctor laid in bed, close to his death.

"They're all safe, aren't they? The children...the grandchildren...everyone's safe?" he asked.

I sat beside him, also aged, " Everyone's safe. They all send their love, John."

" It's done. Thank you," he closed his eyes and peacefully died.

We both gasped, looking at each other with wide eyes, "Did you see?" he asked me.

"Yes..." I whispered, my eyes watering up, "...see, that's what the Doctor and I could never have. If he accepted me, if he felt something for me, it would last for a couple years until I aged...and that's if he didn't mind me aging past into my thirties. I'm just seventeen..."

"I...thought you were twenty five," he whispered, surprised by that only. It figures his oblivion didn't let him hear Matron Joan earlier.

"Don't insult me," I pointed at him jokingly, "I'm about to turn eighteen."

"Stay with me, please," he gripped my hand.

"I can't..."

~0~

"Aliens," I stepped inside the Family's ship, standing across them, Kaeya's necklace in my hand by the chains, "I'm afraid the Doctor is not coming. He's human and that's what he chose to be. But that's okay, because I know of a place that contains an even better life source, better than a Time Lord's."

They took a long sniff, and I rolled my eyes, "You reek of Monsoon," Baines spat.

"Alright, so I went to the Silver Monsoon planet and fell into intergalactic mud," I frowned, "I'm working on it. Plus, its princess has been taking over my body. Sue me, I'll smell like them."

"The Silver Monsoon and its people were pronounced extinct," Clarke informed.

"That's what everyone thinks, and yet..." I swayed my head, acting innocent.

"You shall die."

"Look, this is the princess's necklace," I placed Kaeya's necklace around my neck, allowing her to once again retake my mind and body, "I can lead you to the Silver Monsoon," we spoke together again, "But you must leave this planet forever."

Clark walked up, snatching my wrist, "Like we said, you shall die," and he pushed me for the others.

"No," I frowned, looking down at the floor and seeing the ice rush from my feet, "You shall die."

"Silence!"

I was pushed against a wall, the necklace taking a blow as my face hit the cold wall. Immediately, Kaeya's presence started fading from my head, but a sharp pain increased instead.

"No!" the Doctor's voice made the Family turn around. He gave a clumsy lurch and leaned against the side of the ship, accidentally hitting a few buttons, "Don't hurt her, please. Stop the bombardment. I'll do anything you want, just stop."

"Say please," Baines teased.

"Please."

Jenny turned on a switch and the ship hissed in response, "Wait a minute," she inhaled deeply, "Still human!"

"Leave him be," I exclaimed, rubbing my head, the pain just increasing and even feeling a small prick of ice, "I told you I..."

"Now I can't-I can't pretend to understand, not for a second, but I want you to know that I'm innocent in all this. He made me John Smith. It's not like I had any control over it," the Doctor fumbled with more buttons, catching my attention. John Smith wasn't that clumsy.

"He didn't just make himself human, he made himself an idiot," Jenny remarked.

"Same thing, isn't it?" Baines asked, all of them laughing.

"I don't care about this Doctor and your family, I just want you to go and give me Minerva. So, I've made my choice," he held out the watch for them, "You can have him. Just take it, please! Take him away."

"A Time Lord for a human?" Baines scoffed, "You're an idiot," he snatched the watch.

"Yeah, well, she's worth a million," he smiled softly at me.

"Well don't think that's saved your life," Baines grabbed him by the lapels and pushed him back, "Family of mine, now we shall have the lives of a Time Lord."

They gathered around and inhaled deeply, "Wait...it's empty!" Baines turned to the Doctor.

"What do you mean it's empty?" I raised an eye brow, "It can't be..."

"Where's it gone?" the Doctor asked, sounding just as lost.

"You tell me!" Baines threw the watch towards him.

He caught it and gasped, "Oh, I think the explanation might be you've been fooled by a simple olfactory misdirection. Like a little ventriloquism of the nose. It's an elementary trick in certain parts of the galaxy. But it has got to be said," he spoke like the Doctor again and put on his glasses, "I don't like the looks of that hydroconometer. It seems to be indicating you've got energy feedback all the way through retrostabilizers feeding back into the primary heat converter, ah..." he breathed in, "Cause if there's one thing you shouldn't have done, you shouldn't have let me press all those buttons. But in fairness, I will give you one word of advice," he held out a hand for me, "Minerva, you might wanna stand over here," I quickly stood up and rushed over, "And the advice is...run!"

We ran out of the ship, the Family right behind us.

The ice increased and it felt like one big brain freeze, but one that pained your whole body, actually, "Oh, it hurts!" I dropped to my knees, the last thing hearing was the explosion of the ship.

~0~

The Doctor's POV.

"She'll be fine for the moment," I murmured to Martha as I stepped out of the TARDIS.

"You sure?" there was a severe doubt in her face, and as much as it pained me, she wasn't entirely wrong.

"Doctor, Martha," Timothy approached us, "And Minerva?"

"Um...sort of sleeping," Martha explained, still eyeing me to which I desperately wanted to avoid.

Things weren't right.

"I just wanted to say good-bye," Timothy thankfully spoke up again, "And thank you, because I've seen the future and I now know what must be done. It's coming, isn't it? The biggest war ever."

"You don't have to fight," Martha said quietly.

"I think we do."

"But you could get hurt."

"Well, so could you and Minerva, travelling around with him," the boy nodded to me, "But it's not going to stop you."

"Tim, I'd be honored if you'd take this," I gave him the pocket watch.

"I can't hear anything," he held it to his ear and frowned at the silence.

"No, it's just a watch now. But keep it with you. For good luck."

"Look after yourself," Martha hugged him and kissed his cheek before going into the TARDIS.

"Say goodbye to Minerva for me?"

"Will do," I assured and turned, glancing back, "You'll like this bit."

Martha awaited by the console and silently watched me start the old box up, but there was something in her eyes...accusation.

"Martha, I know, it's my fault," I fiddled with the controls after dematerializing.

"It's Kaeya's."

I looked up, expecting the blow to go to me, "What?"

"What's wrong with Minerva?"

"I don't really know..."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Is she still wearing that bloody necklace?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Doctor! Take it off her!" she shouted, looking frantic.

"Why?"

"You're that oblivious? Seriously?"

"I have a lot of things to think about right now, alright?" my voice rose as well, forcing to remember that none of this was her fault and she was only doing what a best friend would do, stick up for Minerva.

"I would say so," she crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, "Do you remember everything?"

"Most of it, some things are a bit fuzzy."

"But do you remember what John Smith cared for the most during his go?"

I looked away, "Minerva."

"You said you loved her..."

"John Smith said that..."

"NO," she walked over, standing beside me, "You said that. You seeped through and you meant it."

"I don't love her," I shook my head.

"Okay fine, maybe it's a bit early for that. But are you going to deny there's not a little spark or something?" she raised a questioning eyebrow, "Was China just...nothing?"

"Of course not," I blurted, shutting my eyes at the slip.

When I opened an eye, she was smirking as wide as her face allowed, "I knew it," she clapped her hands together, "Oh, I bloody knew it!"

"Martha, calm down, it's not that big of a deal," I rubbed the side of my neck.

"You must be joking me!" she laughed bitterly, quickly forming a dark face, "Seriously, you must be joking."

"Look, I've got to go look into that necklace," I walked past her for the corridors, "Kaeya's essence is roaming about and I-"

"Always Kaeya, huh?" she nearly spat, I froze and glanced back, her dark face turning for anger in less than a second, "And Rose."

"What are you going on about?"

"Do you enjoy hurting Minerva?"

"What? No!" I frowned, where the hell was she getting all this from? I didn't have time for this. Minerva was still unconscious and alone! I had to go be with her!

"Then why can't you admit your feelings to her? I don't think it's a big secret that she likes you too," she waved her hands for sarcasm.

I returned to her, more solemn and serious, this was serious, had been for some time now since I realized it, "Martha...I'm...confused."

"Confused?" she raised an eyebrow, "Of what?"

"I...you know about Kaeya..."

"Yeah, unfortunately," she rolled her eyes, confusing me for a second.

"Minerva, she's..."

"Amazing? Kind? Generous? I mean, c'mon! She allowed Kaeya to use her body as a vessel for her stupid spirit! Minerva is actually sweet and caring and not selfish?"

"What do you mean her body as a vessel?"

"You told me about Minerva, right? That necklace left her some side affects?" I nodded, she continuing right after, her anger just boiling out, "Minerva had her mind compressed by Kaeya, she voluntarily allowed herself to be taken over by the princess. And now she can't even wake up! Kaeya was selfish."

"What?" now I was severely lost.

"She's dead and she still won't let you go. And so who does she take it out on? Minerva. Why? Because that girl is so sweet, so understanding that she would allow Kaeya to take over her body just for you. Kaeya took advantage of that, she took advantage of Minerva's feelings for you. I told her to leave Minerva alone and she didn't. She's selfish. I don't understand how you can love two selfish women."

"Two? Selfish?"

"How can you think, even for a second, that Minerva could ever be less than Kaeya? Than Rose?"

"Martha, you're just confusing me even more-"

"Kaeya and Rose are the most selfish women I've ever heard of!" she shouted, flinching me shut, "Kaeya nearly compresses her to death and Rose was just utterly rude and selfish."

"When did we start talking about Rose?"

"Minerva's told me all about her, Doctor. And shame on you for never noticing. Rose was no white dove, I'll tell you that. But Minerva, she's it. She's the one you should love. If John Smith did, why not you?"

"You don't think I'd like to? Minerva's incredible, and it pains me to know that while I've been protecting her from other people who could hurt her I've been hurting her more. I want to, I want to tell her how I feel and see what she thinks-"

"Then why don't you?"

"Because I'm confused!" I shouted, this time leaving her silent as my anger began to rise, "Because she deserves someone who can commit to her and think only of her. When I look at her, yeah, my hearts beat faster and I get nervous, but then...right in the back of my head, I start thinking of Kaeya...I don't know why...but I do."

"You can't choose between three women, two of those may I remind you are dead. Kaeya died and Rose might as well be pronounced dead because you're never gonna see her again. And I'm not saying you should choose Minerva because she's still here, you should choose her because out of the three, she's the one with the biggest heart. She has qualities that Kaeya and Rose will never have."

"First of all, my feelings for Rose are completely exaggerated here!"

"Minerva thinks you loved her."

"Excuse me!?"

"I'm not gonna say more about it," she shrugged, "But she thinks you loved Rose. And now she knows you loved Kaeya as well. Forget her, forget both of them!"

"Tell me how to do that, then," I said quietly, "Tell me how to magically forget Kaeya because I do want to forget her. But I don't want to forget her because I chose Minerva. I want to forget her because I want to. I want to move on and be free..."

"What you're doing is noble, I suppose," she nodded in concede, "But hear me now, Doctor. Minerva is my best friend, and just like her last one, I will stand up for her. Figure yourself out, but in the meantime do not make Minerva feel like you chose her. Don't make it seem like you've resolved everything. In other words, don't play with her feelings."

"I would never!" she was offending me, really. I would never want to hurt Minerva. Ever.

"I'm just tired, Doctor. I'm tired of seeing Minerva in pain. She thinks she has no hope with you, and poor thing has accepted it. But she'll never say it, she'll never admit her feelings to you unless you do and that won't happen until you sort your feelings out. Just be mindful, Doctor. That's all I want. I know that intentionally you don't toy with her, but sometimes you give her hope, false hope and that's the most cruel kind there is."

I nodded, "I understand."

"And I'll help you sort your feelings out, if you'd like. If you ever wanna talk, I'm all ears. But for now, go to Minerva and take that necklace off. You'll see why I don't like Kaeya after."

I raised an eyebrow, "But wh-"

"Just go," she waved me off, "I'm tired. I wanna get some sleep then come back and take a shift watching Minerva."

"Alright..." I turned away, heading for the clever girl who slept in her room.

~0~

I found Minerva sleeping soundly in her bed, all the covers pushed down to her ankles. She did tell me once she was a crazy sleeper at times. I smiled and walked up, pulling the covers over her again, seeing Kaeya's necklace on her neck. I reached for it and unfastened it, taking it into my hand. I then noticed a heavy burn mark on Minerva where the necklace had been. I frowned, pulling over a chair and sitting close to her, studying the mark.

Kaeya.

I looked at the necklace in hand, had she hurt Minerva purposely? I knew the necklace burned Minerva at times but it was nothing severe, only small burns that would usually sting for a couple minutes then vanish. But the mark Minerva now bore was different. This was a build up of time; the necklace had been burning her for some time and she hadn't taken it off.

My hearts constricted of the idea of Kaeya, her spirit, or what ever form had hurt Minerva. Her mind, her body was being squished together by another entity who easily took control of her. That didn't sound like Kaeya at all. She was sweet, she would never harm someone...why would she do that to Minerva? That's when my anger started up again, and so I placed the necklace far away from us. I didn't want it anywhere near Minerva for fear of harming her. And I didn't want it near me for fear of what I could do to it because it hurt Minerva.

Minerva started moving, her eyes slowly opening, scanning her area before finding me. She smiled softly for a moment then blinked as if she remembered something, and grew serious.

"Is something wrong? Does something hurt?" I moved to stand up when her hand reached for me, "What is it?" I quickly took it.

"Kaeya..." she whispered, her voice feeble.

But I didn't want to hear about her for the moment, I just wanted to make sure Minerva was alright, "No Minerva, just tell me if you need anything. Are you..." but she shook her head, her eyes closing for a second.

"...Doctor...Kaeya..."

"No..."

"DOCTOR," she sounded like she whined, "...Kaeya...is alive."

I blinked, letting go of her hand and leaning back on my chair.

"Kaeya...is alive...and she's...coming back...for you," and Minerva's eyes closed again, falling unconscious, or asleep, again.

If I thought my feelings were screwed up at the moment...now they were just all over the place.

Kaeya hadn't died. She was alive...she was alive...she survived...

...and she was coming back.

#ocapp #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor who fic #10th doctor fics #dw imagine #dw imagines #10th doctor imagines #oc: Minerva Souza #fic: next stop eveywhere

[belphegor1982]

*deep breath* Okay, here goes.

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested… (story on AO3; on FFnet)

(Chapters on Tumblr: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18)

Chapter 19: Run (on AO3 here; on FFnet here)

Evelyn wasn’t used to feeling claustrophobic in a pyramid. She had entered dozens of temples and mastabas, opened tombs and sarcophagi, and never felt so much pressure, such a sensation of being boxed-in. It must have to do with the jungle, she thought. The tombs she was used to were dry, dusty, but the temperature was more or less constant. Here, she was reminded of the Oasis of Ahm Shere after sunset: hot, humid, stifling. Unlike the desert, the canopy had kept the day’s heat inside and trapped moisture. The fact that the jungle was shut inside the pyramid now made the suffocating feeling even worse.

There was no conceivable way to follow the sound after the explosion, although she had an inkling Rick and Jonathan could not be far from it, without necessarily being the cause. Her mission and her priority was to find Hamilton first, she kept reminding herself, and her husband and brother second.

The encounter with the pygmy mummies seemed to have spooked Izzy, but only insofar as he looked tense. Sweat was beading down the side of his face she could see, whether due to the oppressive heat or the knowledge that death might lurk somewhere among the big fronds and the shrubs. She didn’t blame him. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she had to wipe them on her trousers from time to time.

Between the heat and the promise of danger, the tension was so high it was almost a relief to hear screams and gunshots again.

The hapless men in the next chamber were discharging weapon after weapon, but as Evelyn saw when she came out of the corridor at a run, they were outclassed and outnumbered. The pygmy mummies were as relentless as they were ferocious, and they were in much greater numbers than what they had faced earlier. What was worse, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were toying with their prey and would soon enough get bored of the game.

No matter how quickly she and Izzy fired, reloaded, and fired again, it was never enough, and soon the rescue turned into covering for a hasty retreat. Fortunately, the corridor they had come in was narrow, forcing the creatures into a bottleneck; the humans all piled up in the previous chamber behind the walls on either side, dodging deadly spears and poison darts and picking off the little beasts one at a time.

“We need to close this corridor!” yelled one of the agents. “Who has dynamite?”

Evelyn almost protested. This was the quickest route to the heart of the pyramid, the former lair of the Scorpion King, and any other way would take much longer to reach it. However, as a spear narrowly missed the side of her head, she had to admit that way was impracticable. Nobody would survive long down there.

One of the men rummaged in his rucksack, lit an ingot of dynamite, and threw it into the swarming, hissing horde.

“Take cover!”

Evelyn clamped her hands on her ears and screwed her eyes shut.

The blast, amplified by the small space of the corridor, sent enormous blocks of stone and metal flying as though they were made of paper and a giant cloud of dust. When she opened her eyes, she first spotted the heap of rubble that effectively plugged the corridor, and, on the other side of the archway, the surviving agents. The dust the explosion had blown over them coated one side of their suit as they hunkered down next to the wall, making their clothes and their faces look strangely two-tone.

Then, to her horror, there was a small snarling sound somewhere in the dust.

One of the pygmy mummies had made it through before the blast.

Evelyn raised her gun.

The creature lifted its spear.

A shadow fell, stealing her breath and turning her stomach. It scurried away down the destroyed corridor as fast as it had come, leaving everyone dazed and confused – including, it seemed, the pygmy mummy, which had gone still, spear still held above its head.

Evelyn aimed again, but there was no need. The creature stiffened, an astonished look on its decaying face, and crumbled into dust.

The whole room let out a collective sigh of relief.

“What… what were those things?” an agent asked, his voice trembling.

“Apart from one of the reasons you should never have come here in the first place?” said Izzy scathingly, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. It only smudged the mingled dust and sweat there. “Probably guardians meant to keep dumb twats like you lot away from evil places like that damn pyramid!”

Evelyn had nothing to add to Izzy’s accurate, if rather rude, answer. She let her arms come down and her shoulders slump, her chest heaving, shivering slightly from reaction. Her eyes slid closed.

Anubis’ Army had been sent back to the underworld. It was over.

Her mission had failed, but in the end it did not matter. All that did matter was that the world was safe again, from supernatural threats, at least. The jackal-headed soldiers were gone.

They had won.

All that remained to do now was finding Rick and Jonathan, getting back to Alex, and checking on Ardeth and his people.

Evelyn’s eyes snapped open. It couldn’t possibly be that easy, could it?

The next second proved her right as the whole pyramid started to shake, slowly and slightly at first, then harder and harder, until she had to lean on the wall for support.

The agents looked at each other, and ran towards the chamber entrance, one or two barely taking the time to hastily thank her and Izzy for their help.

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Izzy called after them with a derisive gesture. “We only just saved your bloody lives, that’s all! Ungrateful bastards. C’mon,” he added urgently, turning to Evelyn, “they got the right idea. We need to get the hell out, now.”

“But…” Evelyn knew she ought to run, knew there was nothing she could do except try to stay alive, but her husband and her brother were still somewhere in there. To come so far into the pyramid and still leave them to their fate was sheer torture.

Izzy looked more serious than she had ever seen him.

“I know. But O’Connell has got out of more sticky situations and your brother looks wily enough. They’ll make it out. And do you think they’ll be fine if anything happens to you down here?”

The memory flashed through her mind like fire. Rick kneeling over her, morning sunlight in his hair and tears in his eyes, lost in a sea of grief he was close to drowning in.

She could not let her family go through that again. Not if she could help it, not if there was even the slightest chance of survival.

Evelyn nodded, and she and Izzy darted for the exit amidst the dust and the falling rubble.

.⅋.

Despite what Rick had told Jonathan, he had absolutely no intention of letting them get separated. The two of them had gone – okay, gotten dragged – into that pyramid, the two of them would get out, period.

Sure, they had to dodge bullets and duck random debris, but they would get out.

Baine was still after them, and a number of flunkies with him. Rick hadn’t looked back to find out how many.

The guy must really hate them, he thought as he ran, to come after them like that, while the world – well, only the pyramid, thankfully – crashed down on and around them. You’d think he would have more pressing concerns, like his men, or at least saving his own skin. But no, he chose to hound them, as though they had done him personal harm and not saved the world by making a gong fall on a megalomaniac.

That had to be the most ridiculous way to save the world yet. Rick still couldn’t believe it had worked.

He had hated Imhotep, the first time. Oh, how he had hated the mummy when Evy had walked away from him and toward the prospect of death in order to save their lives. Rick O’Connell had realised, at that moment, that he had never truly loathed anyone before. And strangely, as he watched a mortally-wounded Imhotep stumble into that dark goo, any semblance of humanity being quickly stripped away, it had been tempting to feel sorry for the guy, just for a second.

The second time… When Anck-su-namun had stabbed Evy, Imhotep barely taking the time to look smug about it, as though snuffing the life of the most incredible woman Rick had known was nothing, an afterthought – then Rick had truly known what hate felt like. It had been burning, all-consuming, and only Evy’s unhoped-for return had extinguished it enough that he allowed himself the luxury of almost feeling sorry for Imhotep, at the very end. Watching an enemy get pulled out of the fire by the love of his life and then having your own girlfriend bail on you at the last moment had to sting. He was pretty sure there had been tears in the poor chump’s eyes before he let go of that ledge. Who knew a three thousand years old abomination could cry.

In hindsight, Imhotep had been… not exactly a worthy opponent, because a worthy opponent came at the one they had a beef against, not their family; but he hadn’t really been entirely devoid of honour. And while honour was not usually an important part of Rick’s vocabulary, he believed in fighting fair and square – if the situation allowed. Hence why he had zero qualms in not taking Baine – or Hamilton – one on one and sneaking around to beat them instead. Neither were anything close to worthy or honourable. When the deck was stacked against him, he just made sure there were other ways to come out on top.

In the present circumstances, the only way to come out on top was to literally go to the top, which meant running up endless stairways and sloping corridors. At some point, collapsing pyramid or not, those stairways and slopes took their toll and they were forced to stop, their lungs burning and their legs turned to liquid.

“How much… farther…?” gasped Jonathan, looking like he was about to dissolve into the stone tiles. Rick had to gulp air a few times before he was able to answer.

“Dunno, but… not that far.” Man, I hope it’s not far. “We really need to go, now.”

“In… a minute…”

“We may not have a minute, Jonathan!”

But Jonathan was not listening to him. He had been staring at something near the wall; now he lurched closer and pushed a frond aside, eyes wide.

“Good Lord,” he breathed.

For a second, Rick could only share the sentiment. It looked like a cross between a magpie’s nest and a pirate cache, a stash of various gold trinkets and shiny things, haphazardly thrown in a heap. A row of spears had been erected behind it, like a hedge, a small shrunken head planted on every other spike.

Amidst the urgency and the exhaustion, Rick wondered, in the back of his brain, how come they had seen neither head nor tail of the pygmy mummies since they had taken down Hamilton.

Jonathan seemed to have no such questions, and he hastily plunged both hands into the stash and stuffed the contents into his pockets. Just as Rick thought he would have to physically haul him from the treasure and out of the pyramid, Jonathan turned a triumphant grin to him.

“No bloody way I’m coming home empty-handed this time!”

“How many times do I gotta tell you it’s not worth risking your life, you idiot?” Rick yelled as a chunk of ceiling missed him by inches and they hugged the walls to the exit.

“As many as it takes, old boy!”

Just as they reached the corridor, a bullet hit the doorway two inches from Rick’s head, leaving a chink in the dark gold. A second’s glance behind told him Baine had mostly caught up with them.

“Save your breath to run!” he shouted at his brother-in-law, and ran like he had rarely run before.

The necessary respite had done him good, but not nearly enough. If they hadn’t been running through a slowly collapsing pyramid, Rick had no doubt Baine or one of his men would have put a bullet in their brains right there and then. But if the floor shook, debris fell from everywhere, and dust and shredded leaves almost blinded them, then the same thing applied to the agents behind them. Rick ran for his life, his chest on fire, bullets and rubble flying around him, expecting to get hit any second. When his heart seemed to burst in his chest, he kept running. When Jonathan stumbled and almost pitched forward, he reached behind and grabbed him by the collar to help him keep up. When his legs threatened to give out he still ran some more.

His entire body was screaming. There was only one thought spinning in his mind, over and over, as steady as a heartbeat.

Get out get out get out –

And then – suddenly – there was light at the end of the corridor. Real, glorious light, beckoning them forward, the possibility of freedom and safety.

The sight lent him a speed and breath he didn’t know he still had.

Somehow, Rick accelerated.

.⅋.

“THERE!” Evelyn shouted over the noise, grabbing Izzy’s arm. “There’s the way out!”

Finally, the exit. They had found the way they had come in. The last few metres were arduous, between the slope of the stairs, the tremors, and the leaves and ferns whipping at them as they ran. They burst into the open air and half tumbled down the enormous stones of the outer pyramid, and Evelyn felt the sweet, cool caress of a desert sunrise on her face. The sensation was so familiar and unexpected after the long, long night that she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

She opened her eyes again quickly when she heard Izzy gasp.

The smell of dying fires struck her before anything else. The whole camp was in shambles, the tents either taken apart or burnt, the fabric trampled on the ground. Around the pyramid entrance stood a handful of Medjai with guns and scimitars, all of them bearing tell-tale signs of a fierce battle.

There was no trace of the dirigible. Evelyn’s heart seized up in her chest. Where was Alex?

Izzy slowly raised his hands, finger distinctly off the trigger of his gun.

“Lower your hands, Izzy,” Evelyn said impatiently, before calling out, louder, “Alex! Has anyone seen my son? Or my husband and my brother?”

“Evelyn!” The voice was familiar. Evelyn looked to her right to see Atifa push past between two warriors. “Lower your weapons, now,” she said in Arabic to her men. “They’re friends. Evelyn, your husband and brother aren’t here, but your son is safe. Look.”

She pointed up, and Evelyn and Izzy followed her gesture. There was the dirigible, a couple of dozen yards in the air, making a hiccuping descent.

Evelyn reached for a block of stone for support, her gaze still upwards. She was still worried sick about Rick and Jonathan, but at least Alex was safe and sound. Oh, thank goodness.

“What happened?” she asked as Izzy stared at his beloved Dee, gaping.

Atifa looked battered and bruised, and grim-faced. “A detachment of the Army of Anubis came this way,” she said in English. Izzy tore his eyes from his dirigible to stare at her – then at the balloon again – in horror. “We did our best to hold them off. The white prisoners even fought by our side. They did well, considering.”

“How many dead?” asked Evelyn, dreading the answer.

“About a third of our men and half the prisoners. The Army went back to the sands some time ago. Did you –?”

Evelyn shook her head. “No, I had nothing to do with it. We didn’t even see Hamilton. We were too late to stop him before he released Anubis’ Army, and we were too late to stop him after.” She drew a ragged breath. “I failed my mission.”

“I reckon you would have kicked his arse if it hadn’t been for those nasty critters,” Izzy pointed out, making Atifa look at him curiously.

“You saw the guardians of Ahm Shere and lived?”

“They were hunting down a few of Hamilton’s men. I think they were all sent back to the Underworld when the Army of Anubis was. Did the men get out?”

“Yes. That’s why my orders were to intercept anyone who got out of the pyramid. We’ve been collecting prisoners since the battle ended.”

“Good,” said Evelyn with a firm nod. “They need to be held accountable for their actions. If –”

“Watch out!” shouted Izzy, pushing the two women away from the foot of the pyramid.

The next second, the big dirigible all but crashed into the sand and the bottom row of the stone blocks. When the dust settled and the noise died down, Evelyn looked up to see a rope ladder be thrown down and a small blond head pop up from the rail.

“Mum!”

“Alex!”

She hastily saluted Atifa and climbed aboard as fast as her legs allowed. She had barely got down from the ladder when her son barrelled into her. She fell to her knees and hugged him as tight as she could, breathless, eyes screwed shut, bursting with love.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

A thud and a few incoherent sounds behind her told her that Izzy had climbed up as well.

“How – what did – my dirigible!”

“I had to,” Alex piped up, breaking away from the hug. He looked halfway between exhilarated and nervous. “The Army of Anubis were coming this way, I had to, otherwise they would’ve just – I don’t know, but I didn’t want them to, so I tried to get Dee to go up, I mean, first I couldn’t remember – but then I thought, positive buoyancy! And then I switched the whatsit on to fire up the whole thing –”

Her brave, clever boy. He never ceased to amaze her, did he.

“It’s all right,” said Evelyn. She was smiling so wide it almost hurt. “It’s all right, you’re here, you’re safe, that’s all that matters. And,” she added with something of a wicked smile behind her, “I’m sure Mr Izzy will thank you for taking such good care of his dirigible.”

Izzy, who was bent over the rail trying to assess the damage done by the somewhat… rough landing, threw them a dirty look over his shoulder. The next second, surprisingly, he softened.

“You did good, kid,” he said, as though reluctantly. “Could’ve been gentler, but… Yeah, that was right clever of you.”

Alex beamed at the praise. Then Izzy’s eyes went round.

“My moorings! What –”

“Oh, yeah, I had to, er, cut those in a hurry.” Alex actually sounded sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Look at the state of the – oh, bloody Christ on a bike, the balloon!”

Evelyn was on the verge of calling him out for his language, but Izzy took off at a run towards the wheelhouse. When she bent over the rail and looked up, the dirigible’s balloon had started sagging dangerously. Trusting the pilot to restore the proper state of things, she turned back to her son, who was staring up with a look his mother knew only too well. That look ran the gamut between ‘what just happened’ and ‘um, did I do that’, and seemed to run in the family.

“Oops,” Alex said. “I kinda forgot to take the jammer off the handle.”

Evelyn had no idea what that meant, but somehow she almost burst out laughing. She only just managed to turn the mounting giggles into a grin and reached for him again. To her surprise, he happily complied and returned her embrace with all the strength of his arms.

“I take it the child is safe?” came a voice from the ground. Evelyn, still smiling widely, broke away from the hug and walked to the rail.

“Yes, he’s safe and sound, thank goodness.”

Atifa nodded. Some of the tension left her face. “Good.”

“Mum?” said Alex behind her. “Did you see Dad and Uncle Jon while you were down there?”

Evelyn’s smile slid abruptly.

“No, dear, I didn’t,” she said softly, running a gentle hand through his hair. “But I’m sure they –”

Someone cried, in Arabic, “More coming!” She only had time to go to the rail again before two men came sprinting out of the pyramid entrance directly towards the dirigible.

Alex let out a wordless cry of joy. Evelyn thought her heart was about to burst right through her ribcage.

The first to climb aboard turned out to be Jonathan. As soon as he reached the top of the rail, she threw her arms around him to help him on board, then tightened her grip into a bear hug, her hands clasped against his back. When he hugged her back, she could feel his body quiver, and only held him tighter.

“Jon,” she gasped, “oh, Jon, I thought –”

She broke away from the embrace, smiling giddily, and couldn’t resist the impulse to kiss his forehead. Jonathan looked too breathless to speak, still trembling and panting from their last run, but he gave her a small smile.

And then an exhausted voice said with a smile she could actually hear, “Hey, hon.”

Rick was sitting on the deck, chest heaving, as grimy and covered in dust as Jonathan was, smiling up at her. He had his arms around Alex, who was wrapped up around him like an octopus, as though two arms and a torso were just not enough for the kind of hug he needed.

Evelyn’s grin threatened to split her face in two.

She lay a hand on Jonathan’s arm and made sure he was propped up against the wall of the cabins before going over to her husband. Rick whispered something in Alex’s ear and ruffled his hair – and how she had missed this, missed the small affectionate touches between all of them. He stood up slowly, and while Alex ran to his uncle, Evelyn finally crossed the last yard and took her man into her arms to hold him close.

There was some kind of commotion from the ground, voices raised angrily, but she only had eyes and ears for Rick.

He had lost his jacket and smelled of sweat, grime, and the sap of exotic plants, but underneath his own scent was still there; there was a half-healed cut on his forehead as well as small bruises and scratches all over his body, but his hands were warm against her side and the back of her head. She clung to him with all her might, hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, drinking in the smell and feel of him, feeling the fear and worry of the past few days ebbing little by little.

“I missed you so much,” she whispered into his shirt. “I just… You… Oh, Rick, I missed you so much.”

He made a small noise at the back of his throat and she felt his lips press against the side of her head. She broke away, taking his hands into hers. When she looked up, it was into a pair of intense blue eyes, misted over and glistening.

The kiss drew both of them in at the same time. When she came up for air, trembling with emotion, she marvelled at the way her husband looked at her, as though he couldn’t believe she was real. Not that she felt any different, of course. Having him in her arms like this, kissing him like this, after a week of fearing for his life, was like drinking from the purest spring after a week of wandering in the desert.

His breath trembled against her lips. She closed her eyes and basked in all the precious sensations she had missed so much for the past week.

“Evy, I…” She heard a sharp intake of breath, and opened her eyes. “Evy, you got hurt!”

“No,” she said, puzzled. “I didn’t –”

Rick was looking down in alarm; she followed his gaze to her hands, still entwined in his.

Her palms were covered in drying blood.

Fear rose into her like bile.

“Are you—?”

Rick shook his head.

“Then what…”

Instinctively, her head swivelled to the other two members of their family. Jonathan was where she had left him, braced against the wall of the cabins, while Alex regaled him with a spirited version of the adventure he’d had.

“So then I grabbed the axe to chop off the ropes, and the darn thing was so heavy I almost couldn’t – Uncle Jon? Uncle Jon, are you okay?”

Jonathan had gone utterly white. He blinked, a confused look on his face.

“Wha—”

Then his knees buckled and he abruptly slid down the wall, blood smeared where his back had been.

There was a considerable amount of blood.

“MUM! DAD!”

Her son’s scream pierced through the icy fog in Evelyn’s brain. She ran over and dropped in front of Jonathan while Rick strode over to Alex and picked him up.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when they were finally together again, safe again, not when the world had been saved once more… They were supposed to have so much time in front of them, a whole life of it…

“Jonathan,” she said in the most assertive voice she could muster, “Jonathan, look at me.”

He looked at her. Incredibly, after so many years, the voice still worked.

“Jon, please, stay with me. You’re going to be just fine, just… don’t close your eyes.”

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out except the sound of his shallow, whistling breathing. The sound pitted a shard of ice against her heart. What drove it in was the expression on her brother’s face. He looked flat out terrified.

The same terror drenched her entire body in ice. She had not felt this helpless in decades.

“HELP!” she screamed, turning away to the rail, to the wheelhouse, to anyone who would listen. “Somebody, please!”

Her eyes met Rick’s, just beside her. He had crouched down to her level, unable to hold Alex’s weight much longer; he still had their son in his arms, small head tucked against his chest, one large hand gently stroking the back of his neck. When he looked at her, there was unutterable sadness in his eyes.

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“No,” Evelyn whispered. She grabbed Jonathan’s hand, and with her other hand cupped the side of his face. “No, Jon, no – don’t go, don’t leave me, please, Jon, don’t –”

His hand tightened around hers. She could have sworn, later, that he tried to say something. She stared into his eyes, desperately ignoring the greyish tint of his skin, the blue tinge of his lips, willing him to stay a little longer still.

Jonathan could be lazy, absent-minded, and a bit of a ne’er-do-well, but he had always made an effort when she asked.

She was so focused on his face that she didn’t notice his hand had gone slack right away. He seemed to be staring into the distance, his expression still a mixture of fear and incomprehension; but his eyes, so blue, so lively, so ready to twinkle, were dull, the light faded out.

Evelyn opened her mouth, and his name died on her lips. The mind she had always prided herself on was an utter blank.

She was barely aware of Rick reaching out, and, with a gentleness he hadn’t had since Alex had been an infant, closing Jonathan’s eyes.

.⅋.

...

(don’t kill me?)

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #fanfiction #my stuff #the mummy films #the mummy

[fic-for-fic-sake]

New Years Eve, Loki x reader

A/N: Hey, this is just a little New Years oneshot I wrote. The reader gets an anxiety attack while at a club on New years Eve and Loki helps her out. Btw I don’t think Opium is an actual club in NYC, but it’s the name of a club I went to once in Barcelona, lmao. Hope you enjoy. 

Becoming an avenger was one of those things that you never thought was possible until it happened. You had been caught teleporting stolen items from a store to your home. The police brought you in and you were facing quite a few years in jail but you were saved by none other than Tony Stark. He found out you were only stealing so you could provide for your family and he asked you if you wanted to use your teleporting gifts for good. You accepted and moved into the avengers complex in upstate New York.

Ever since that day, a little over two years ago now, being an avenger was amazing. You got to help people and save the world and those things took you to incredible locations, but it also meant there wasn’t much downtime. However, this year everyone at the compound had decided to spend New Years Eve together. Even Thor and Loki who weren’t entirely sure why humans would celebrate the passage of time said they would join the festivities.

Everyone had been debating what to do and where to go for a few weeks now until one day Tony just decided to have everyone go to times square for the evening. This prompted a discussion you weren’t too pleased with.

“Wait, Tony, how are we possibly going to get down to times square?” Asked Steve as he made his way into the common area.

“Geez Cap I know you’re from the 40s but I thought surely you must’ve been in a car before.” Tony replied sarcastically as he sat down in an armchair.

“Har Har very funny.” Steve retorted rolling his eyes. “I just meant how would we be able to get down there just because it’s so packed on New Years Eve. The whole city is crawling with tourists.”

“He does have a point Tony.” Natasha chimed in as she sat down on the couch with Clint following close behind.

“I’ve got an idea!” Tony said as he clapped his hands together. “Why doesn’t Y/N just teleport everyone down?”

You nearly choked on your glass of water at the mention of your name, “I’m sorry what?” You said with a shocked expression glued to your face. They had to be joking, there’s no way they were serious about it.

“You can teleport us down two at a time that way we don’t need to bring a car and we can squeeze into the crowd.” Tony explained as he turned to fully face you.

“That is an excellent idea Stark!” Thor boomed as he walked into the room with a smile on his face. “I’m sure the Lady Y/N would be honored to do it.” He practically beamed at you.

You could feel yourself shrinking under the gaze of all of them. They were so expectant and so sure of you that you could do this. You could feel yourself beginning to panic when suddenly you felt a hand squeeze your own. You looked up to the owner said hand to find none other than Loki with a sympathetic expression on his face. He knew how much teleporting everyone there and back would take out of you and he could feel the panic escaping your body. He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze and you saw a small smile cross his lips.

You gave him a gentle nod before giving everyone else your answer. “Okay, I’ll do it.” You said as you put your hands in the air in mock defeat as everyone around you cheered. It wouldn’t be easy but you would try your hardest to get everyone there and back. After everything the avengers had done for you, this was the least you could do in return.

Everyone then broke off to get ready and you all planned to meet back in the common room at 9:45pm sharp. You were still feeling nervous about transporting everyone over so you decided to take a hot shower to soothe your tension. After your shower you stood in your room in your bathrobe avoiding getting ready as if that would avoid the inevitable. You were trying to take calming breaths when you heard a knock at the door. Sighing you reluctantly crossed the room and opened the door only to find Loki standing on the other side.

“Loki, what are you doing here?” You asked incredulously as you led him into your room. You watched as he leaned against one of your walls, his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t dressed yet but he looked amazing in his normal everyday clothes.

“I couldn’t help but notice how unenthused you were at Stark’s proposal this afternoon.” Loki responded matter of factly.

“Loki, I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’ll be fine, I’m fine.” You responded with as light of a tone as possible. You tried to brush him off, you didn’t want him to know how much you were freaking out.

“Y/N, you may have fooled everyone else but you can’t fool me. I’m the god of lies, remember?” He asked as he quirked his head to one side.

You sighed as you sat down on your bed in defeat. He was right. There was no use lying to him. “Fine, you win. I’m freaking out. Transporting is fine when it’s in short bursts but I don’t know if I’ll be able to take so many people. It really wears me out and it’s bringing out my anxiety which is heightened anyway with the prospect of spending New Years surrounded by so many people.” Finally saying it out loud did little to calm your nerves.

Wordlessly, Loki closed the distance between the two of you and sat on your bed across from you. He took your hands in his and lightly rubbed his thumb over your knuckles in a soothing gesture. “Y/N, look at me. It’ll be okay. I’m here okay. I can also transport people so you don’t have to do it alone. Stark was an idiot for asking this of you.” Loki said in a voice barely above a whisper. It shocked you how gentle he was being but you were grateful for it. You don���t think you could stand anyone yelling or mocking you today.

“Thank you Loki, that really helped me.” You said as you continued to hold his hands, not wanting to give up the contact just yet.

You could tell that he knew you weren’t as okay as you were letting on but you weren’t sure how much more you wanted to share with the god, there wasn’t much he could do the alleviate all of your anxieties.

After a little while longer, Loki stood up and left your room telling you he still had to get ready himself. But he said he would be back at 9:40, so the two of you could walk down to the common room together.

You stood up after Loki shut the door behind him and went to your closet, determined to find something to wear. After you leafed through what felt like every clothing item you owned you found what you were looking for. A black long sleeve sweater dress that came down to your knees and hugged your curves. It was comfortable enough but also stylish so you felt like you were actually trying. You decided to pair it with gold high heeled shoes and did your makeup in a similar golden shade.

Your hair was down in soft ringlets that framed your face. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, even if you felt like dying inside, you looked good on the outside. You were just putting in a pair of diamond stud earrings when you heard a soft knock at the door. You opened it to reveal Loki, dressed to the nines. You couldn’t help the small gasp that came out of your mouth at his appearance. He was wearing an all black suit that was perfectly tailored to his body. You could make out his lean muscles and the black made his pale skin seem even lighter. His midnight locks fell softly to his shoulder. He looked the part of a prince of asgard.

“Hi” you breathed as you continued to drink him in.

“Hi yourself.” He responded as he held out his hand for you which you took. He brought his lips down to your hand for a gentle kiss. “You look absolutely stunning Y/N” He replied as he offered his arm to you.

You could feel yourself blush a little under his gaze as you entwined your arm with his and began to walk to the stairs. As the two of you walked down towards the common room you felt your heart begin the beat faster and you were sure it wasn’t all based in your anxiety. When you finally made it to the common room everyone whooped and cheered at the sight of the two of you together. You could feel your blush darken.

“Okay, I think it’ll be easier for me if I just take everyone at the same time. That way we all stick together and I don’t have to make multiple trips.” You said matter of factly as you made your way to the center of the room. “Tony all I need from you is a location and I’m good to go.”

“Sure thing Y/N. We’re going to Opium in Manhattan.” Tony said as he finished his scotch.

“Opium it is. If everyone could just make a circle and all hold hands that would be great.” You said, your voice quavering ever so slightly. You knew you would be going to a club tonight but now that it was literal moments away, your previous anxieties came flooding back to you. Before you could think more on the matter Loki was at your side and took your hand in his. Feeling him there next to you was reassuring enough and gave you the strength you needed.

You successfully teleported everyone to the entrance of the club but lost your footing as soon as you touched solid ground. Before you could react Loki wrapped a hand around your waist in an attempt to stabilize you. You leaned into him, thankful for the support. His hand against your midsection sent goosebumps throughout your entire body. You were thankful for the long sleeves of your dress for hiding your excitement.

When you got into the club you made your way over to the bar where you ordered a double vodka soda. Trying by any means necessary to calm your nerves. After you downed that you grabbed another and made your way onto the dance floor to try and find the other Avengers. The condensation from your glass made your hands cold but it felt good to the stark contrast of the rest of your body which you were sure was overheating. You weren’t sure you would find the other members of the team but you saw Natasha’s red hair and you smiled, a literal beacon in the crowd.

You cautiously made your way over to them, careful not to spill your drink. You joined them on the dance floor and decided to just let loose and dance. You laughed as Thor tried his best to dance but it was like a bull in a china shop. There just wasn’t enough space for him. Natasha and Wanda grabbed you and spun you around which made the three of you burst into a fit of giggles. By this point you were slightly buzzed and just happy to be out with friends. But then you felt two arms wrap around your waist and you stood straight as a pole. You were about to bolt when you heard a soothing voice whisper in your ear.

“Shhh it’s alright love it’s just me.” Loki’s voice cut through the noise like a knife. You immediately relaxed in his arms and began to sway against him. Natasha and Wanda gave you a knowing glance but you rolled your eyes at them. After you finished your second drink you handed them your glass and they walked away, leaving you and Loki alone on the dance floor.

You took the opportunity to turn around in his arms so you two were face to face.

“Hi” You said as you looked up at him and smiled.

“Hi again” he replied.

“Thanks for your help today, it really meant a lot to me.” You said earnestly as you looked him in the eye.

“Your welcome. I couldn’t stand the idea of you being in any kind of pain so anything I could do to help I wanted to.” He replied with so much sincerity you thought you would cry. You couldn’t believe he was saying this to you.

Before either of you could say much else a faster song came on and all the other avengers came back over to dance together. You and Loki reluctantly broke apart but remained near each other. As you kept dancing you became aware that you were sobering up. With that came the realization of where you were again. You began to notice how little room you had, how hot your body was in your dress, how loud everything around you was. Your body noticed every time someone else brushed against it and slowly but surely it felt like all of the oxygen was being sucked out of the room and you were struggling to breathe.

You knew what was happening, you could feel you panic attack creep in. You knew there was little to nothing you could do to stop it once it happened and you really didn’t feel like crying in a dimly lit gross club bathroom with drunk people wandering in an out and people probably hooking up in the stalls. Before you could second guess yourself you teleported back to the base and into your bathroom. You turned on the faucet as you tried to splash your face with cold water in an attempt to calm down but it didn’t work. You felt your body begin to heave and shake as violent sobs ripped through you.

It had been too much, you had pushed yourself too far and now you were facing the consequences. Not being able to move much you sank down on your cold tiled bathroom floor and hugged your knees to your chest as you continued to sob. The sound echoing off the walls of the bathroom only made it worse. You sat there trying to rock yourself back and forth in a feeble attempt to self soothe. Nothing was working to calm yourself down, you tried counting backwards, breathing deeply, smacking a hair tie against your wrist but nothing worked. All you could do was sit there helplessly as the sound of your own cries reverberated around you.

You were still sobbing when you saw the bathroom door open. Through your watery vision you saw a figure move swiftly to your side. You said nothing as Loki lifted you effortlessly in his arms and walked you out of the bathroom and laid you down on your bed. He laid down next to you and you curled yourself into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and began to stroke your back in a soothing gesture.

“Shhhhh.” His whispered into your hair, “Y/N it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m here for you.” He said as he gently began to rock you back and forth. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him close. His voice wrapped around you like a blanket and you began to ease into his touch. His warm body felt good against your own. Your sobs began to lessen until you were all cried out. You two continued to lay there in the dark for what felt like forever. The only sounds were the tiny reassurances Loki would murmur into your hair between kisses and your ragged breath.

After a while you sat up and Loki followed, so that you were facing each other. You leaned forward and crawled into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug.

“What time is it?” You breathed into his ear.

You felt one of his arms leave your waist as he checked his watch, “It’s a little after midnight” He responded in an equally low voice.

You chuckled as you leaned back and pressed your forehead against his.

“Happy New Year Loki.” You smiled as you wrapped your hands around his neck once more.

“Happy New Year Darling.” Loki responded as he softly brushed your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. Then, ever so gently, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in the sweetest kiss imaginable.

Your whole body warmed up seemingly from the inside. He tightened his hold around your waist as he deepened the kiss and you moaned into his mouth. For the first time it felt like it was truly a Happy New Year.

@lokixme @drakesfiance

#new years eve #new years #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki oneshot #loki x you #marvel fanfic #avengers fanfic #marvel #writing #fanfic #text post

[bleucheesy]

Seduction - Kinkance

After a short hiatus, I’m back with more for @voltronbingo~ @voltronbingoworks

Prompt: Seduction Ship: Any (I chose Kinkance) Rating: M Word Count: 3708 For: @edhelwen1

This went so long...lol

Also available on AO3. Request a drabble here.

Sold out by his own team. Typical.

Pike kicked at a loose stone in the path, his gaze flicking up toward his captor. Tall, dark, handsome…nice butt. Ancients, if he wasn’t currently leading Pike to his death – or, at the very least, some serious jail time – Pike might have considered making a move. But, things being the way they were…

“Are we there yet?” Pike asked for probably the tenth time in as many dobashes. This was part of his plan to annoy the man until he got so sick of him, he’d let him go. But, as with all the other times he’d asked, his question fell on deaf ears. Not literally, Pike was pretty sure. But then again maybe the mercenary after his bounty was just really good at reading lips.

He’d been so cozy earlier that morning, snuggled up with his teammates by the fire. It was the first time since joining up with their little band that he felt comfortable and relaxed enough to come down from the trees and join them.

Big mistake.

Pike had been the first to rise, carefully extracting himself from beneath Meklavar’s legs and under one of Gyro’s arms. He’d been heading toward the river to wash his face, when he heard it. The snapping of a tree branch. But by then, it was too late.

An arrow whizzed by his ear. A warning. And then two more caught his sleeves, pinning him to the trunk of a large tree. One of the arrows had just barely nicked his shoulder. But whatever the point was coated with, it inhibited his ability to teleport.

Yes, his adversary certainly knew what they were doing.

Pike sighed and raised his hands – as high as they’d go, considering how he was trapped – and looked up toward the canopy, the light of early morning barely visible. “All right,” he said. “You’ve caught me.”

A man swung down from a branch, landing softly, despite his tall stature and build. Pike’s ears flicked with interested before he remembered his position.

“Pike Sovnya.” His voice was deep, velvety, and Pike’s tail curled at the sound of it. “Common thief,” he continued. “Wanted for petty theft, grand larceny, aggravated assault-”

“Hey!” Pike interrupted. “I’ll admit to the first two, but there’s no way I-”

“-on a klazgool.”

“Oh.” Pike lowered his ears. “Well, he sort of had that coming…”

“And failure to obey orders,” he finished, finally making eye contact. And, wow, his eyes were pretty. Not that Pike should have been thinking his captor was good-looking, but he was only human. Well, half-human.

Once Pike’s crimes were read to him, the man rolled up his scroll and tucked it away before walking toward him. And it was then that everything became very real.

He was trapped, unable to escape, and someone was about to turn him in.

“Stop right there!” a familiar voice called and Pike could have cried. It was Gyro. “Who are you and what business do you have with our party member?”

The man turned toward him and lifted an eyebrow, but before he could speak, Block and the others appeared. Now he was completely outnumbered. “Your friend is a wanted man,” he said in that deep voice of his.

“Wanted?” Valayun furrowed her brow.

“On what charges?” Meklavar asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Once again, the man listed Pike’s transgressions. “Across multiple kingdoms,” he added this time. And that was when Pike noticed his uniform. It was unlike any guard he’d seen – or taken advantage of – in their travels.

This man was a mercenary.

But that didn’t matter. Because there was no way his comrades were going to let this guy take him. No way. Even if they were all in a huddle… Whispering to each other…

“Um…” Pike cleared his throat. “Guys…?” He swallowed and faced the other man.

“How much did you say his bounty was again?” Meklavar poked her head out from behind Block.

The mercenary simply pulled out another roll of parchment. This time, when he unrolled it, he held it out to show them. Pike had to admit that the artist’s rendering was spot on. But below that… Well… Wow, that was a lot of zeroes…

“All right,” Meklavar disappeared into the huddle again and after a few seconds, they broke. “You can take him,” she said.

Oh, good. He knew his team wouldn’t let him down.

Wait.

“What?” Pike’s eyes grew large. “You guys can’t be serious?”

“My apologies, Pike,” Valayun began. “But it is a great sum they’re offering.”

“So?” Pike gesticulated wildly as best he could while trapped against the tree. “It’s not like you have to pay him! Shoot him with a magic arrow or something!”

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Pike.” It was Gyro who spoke this time. His tone conveyed finality, though his expression was almost sad. Maybe he’d argued in favor of rescuing Pike? Maybe.

Then again, Gyro had a giant, blazing sword that could have easily downed the entire tree, let alone the two measly arrows holding Pike captive.

“Sorry, Buddy,” Block chimed in.

Pike looked at each of them, expecting at least one to come to his defense. But nothing. Nada. Zilch. They were seriously just going to let this mercenary take him and turn him in. All over a few gold coins.

Okay, a lot of gold coins.

“Wow.” Pike’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat. “Fine then.”

Flash forward to hours later. Pike had been following his thus far unnamed captor for miles, his hands tied together, the other end of the rope gripped tightly in the man’s hand. Pike had plenty of stamina, he liked to think, but even his legs were starting to get tired.

“Hey,” he called, knowing he probably wouldn’t get an answer. “Don’t you think we should set up camp for the night?”

To his surprise, the man stopped and turned to face him. “You tired?”

Pike released a breath and nodded. “Exhausted.”

The mercenary grunted and looked up at the sky before giving the rope a tug, leading Pike off of the path and through a thicket. Pike winced as the thorns on the bushes poked into his skin, hooking onto his clothes and tail.

Once he broke free of the vicious shrub, he found himself in a clearing. It was quiet, save for the gentle sound of water. He was certain they were quite a ways downriver from where they’d started hours earlier.

Not that he expected his friends to show up.

Pfft. Friends.

Well, Pike had gotten himself out of worse situations.

“So,” he began, but didn’t get to finish as the man yanked on the rope, which would have sent him sprawling, if not for his catlike reflexes. “Hey!”

“We’ll camp here,” he said before tying his end of the rope to a nearby tree. He whispered something which caused the knot to glow bright before dimming back to normal.

“You know magic?” Pike gaped. Just great. No wonder he had those arrows earlier. Pike had just figured he’d stolen them off of an archer like Valayun.

But, once again, the man didn’t answer. He just set to gathering up kindling for a fire.

With an aggravated huff, Pike crouched down beside the tree, miffed at being ignored. This man was proving to be quite the tough nut to crack.

Fire ablaze, the man pitched a tent – large enough for only one, Pike noted – then sat down and pulled out a small pouch. When he opened it, Pike perked up at the delicious aroma of dried meat, cheese, and crusty bread. His mouth watered. He hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. And even though his captor had been kind enough to give him sips of water during their journey, that wasn’t going to cut it.

“Hey,” Pike began, moving closer. “You think maybe I could get some of that?”

The man looked up at him, brought the bread to his lips, and bit into it before turning back toward the fire.

Rude.

“Fine then!” Pike puffed his chest out. “I’ll just die of starvation and you’ll lose all your reward money.” He harrumphed, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking his nose in the air, his tail swishing angrily from side to side.

The mercenary chuckled. Chuckled!

“What’s so funny?” Pike glared at him, too cheesed to notice how handsome the other looked when he laughed. Well, mostly.

He pulled out the poster again and pointed to the bottom. “Dead or alive.”

Oh, great.

“But,” he continued, rolling the ad back up and stuffing it into his pocket. “You’re worth more alive, so…” He tossed a chunk of bread Pike’s way. And, pride be damned, Pike pounced on it, bringing the stale treat to his lips and devouring it before licking the crumbs from his fingers.

After that, they sat in silence while Pike tried to formulate a plan. There had to be something the other man wanted. More than the large sum of money he’d get if he turned Pike in. But what?

“You got a name?” Pike asked. Maybe if they got to know each other, the other man might think twice about handing him over. Not that mercenaries were known for their soft hearts. “C’mon,” he continued when he received no answer. “If we’re going to be traveling together, I need to know what to call you.”

That seemed to get his attention. He turned Pike’s way, his dark eyes and skin lit orange by the fire’s glow as the sun dipped behind the trees. “Ryan.”

Pike blinked. He figured the other man would be named something like King or Lightning or Big McLargeHuge. But Ryan? Hmm…

“Well, Ryan…” Pike drawled, arching his back as he gave a stretch. The other looked at him before returning his attention to his meal. But now that Pike had something in his belly, he was less distracted by hunger and ready to make a deal. “I wonder how much they’re offering for me,” he mused, bringing bound hands up to tap a finger to his chin.

Ryan cleared his throat, but Pike couldn’t be sure if it was in acknowledgement of his talking or if the other man had simply tried to swallow too large a piece of bread at once.

“I can’t imagine it’s a fortune greater than the one up in the Feldakor mountains…” He puckered his lips, waiting for Ryan to take the bait. When he didn’t, Pike continued. “Gold as far as the eye can see. Coins, baubles, trinkets, rare items-”

“Not interested,” Ryan said flatly, not bothering to look up from the fire.

Pike bristled. What kind of mercenary didn’t want more money?

But then Pike grinned. If riches weren’t what tempted this man, perhaps it was the thrill of the chase. The challenge. And Pike was as competitive as they came.

“So, you’re pretty good with that bow, huh?” Pike gestured toward the weapon nestled between the quiver of arrows and the small tent. “You missed me though. That first time.”

Ryan looked his way, eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t trying to hit you.”

“Sure, sure.” Pike raised his palms and nodded along. “Of course. Every MERC wants to give their target fair warning. You know, so they can escape or whatever.”

“You didn’t escape,” Ryan pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

Ah-ha! He bit.

Now to reel him in…

“Well, where’s the fun in that?” Pike replied, studying his nails – easier said than done with his hands bound the way they were – then he glanced up with a smirk. “Bet you can’t hit that fruit over there.” He pointed, best he could, toward a dangling appauava high up the length of a tree toward the very edge of the clearing.

Ryan turned his head toward the fruit and then looked back at Pike. “Not much of a challenge.”

Pike could practically taste his freedom.

“What say we make a deal?” Pike began, barely containing his glee. “If you can knock it down in one shot, I’ll go quietly the rest of the way.” He paused, tail flicking excitedly. “But if I hit it-”

“I don’t cut deals with wanted men,” Ryan interrupted, grabbing a stick and poking at the campfire.

Pike bit his lip. Hard. Internally screaming. What kind of man was this Ryan? Couldn’t be bribed. Couldn’t be challenged. What in all of Aurita could tempt him?

Then Pike got an idea. A wicked idea.

He got into a crouched position, tugging feebly at his bindings. “Ryaaaaaan…” he whined, jutting out his lower lip. “Can’t you loosen the ropes? My wrists hurt…”

Ryan scoffed, shaking his head as he continued to ignore Pike.

“I think it’s broken the skin,” Pike continued, standing up.

Still no response.

Fine. Time to up the ante.

“And I’m cold…” Pike shivered. “The fire’s too far away and I’m freezing.” He made a show of puffing up his tail, his teeth chattering. “I think I might die, Ryan.” He raised his hands, closing his eyes and striking a dramatic pose.

Suddenly, his bound wrists were pushed up over his head, gripped tightly and held against the tree behind him. Pike’s eyelids fluttered open, going wide when he realized just how close Ryan was to him now, the other’s breath warm against his face.

Maybe Pike was kind of cold, after all.

“Do you ever stop talking?” Ryan ground out, dark eyes narrowed, pupils blown in the low light.

Pike swallowed, large eyes staring up at Ryan. He knew he was tall, but up close like this…

“Um,” Pike faltered, his ears drawn back. “I, uh-” He tore his gaze away, his cheeks growing warm. This was embarrassing. He was never without a witty comeback.

“Run out of things to say?” Ryan challenged, releasing Pike’s wrists before making his way back to the campfire.

“I’ve been told I can get pretty noisy,” Pike managed, finally collecting himself now that Ryan was a safe distance away. “But there’s one way to shut me up.”

This was it. Pike’s last ditch-effort. If money and winning didn’t do it for Ryan, maybe sex would. And Pike liked to think he was well-versed in the art of seduction. Besides, once Ryan had his pants down, Pike could make a break for it.

It seemed Ryan had returned to his stoic, less-than-talkative self. And Pike was about to give up hope until the other made his way over, a small blade in hand.

Shit.

Pike tried desperately to get away, but whatever enchantment Ryan had put on the rope held firm. He lowered his ears and ducked his head. But instead of feeling the sharp blade against his skin, he felt the taut rope go slack.

He opened one eye and saw that Ryan had cut through the knot tying Pike to the tree. The rope and knife glowed briefly before dimming. Ryan put the blade back into his pocket and gripped the end of the rope, giving it a pull and leading an astonished Pike toward the fire.

Ryan sat down and when Pike didn’t immediately follow suit, he looked up at him and quirked a brow.

Quickly recovering, Pike smirked, easing himself down beside Ryan, close enough so their shoulders and thighs brushed. At this distance, he noticed how the light from fire danced on Ryan’s high cheekbones, illuminating the golden rings that decorated the braids in the other’s hair. “How kind,” he purred, wrapping his tail around himself and leaning into the other. “But you know,” he whispered in Ryan’s ear, “you’re even hotter than the fire.”

A bad line, sure. But it was the truth. Never mind that the mercenary was extremely good-looking. His body temperature was also relatively high in comparison. And if they’d met under different circumstances, Pike would have gladly let the other be his bed-warmer.

Then again, it wasn’t too late for that…

“I thought this would shut you up,” Ryan replied, using Pike’s earlier phrasing. “Since you were so cold,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, about that…” Pike let his lips brush against Ryan’s ear. “I thought of a better way to warm up.” He gave his lobe a teasing nip before pulling back.

Ryan was looking at him with an unreadable expression. But the blush on his cheeks gave him away. And Pike rolled with it.

“What’s wrong, Mr. Big Bad Mercenary?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Flustered by a little flirting?” He moved quickly, maneuvering himself so he was in Ryan’s lap, one leg on either side of the other’s hips. He bumped their foreheads gently. “Or am I too much for you?”

Pike sat, quite pleased with himself.

“You’re wrong,” Ryan breathed, his hands finding Pike’s hips and gripping them tight.

“Oh?” Pike let himself be pulled against the other. He looped his bound arms around Ryan’s neck and drew close enough that their lips nearly touched.

Ryan reached up, wrapping his fingers around the base of Pike’s tail and giving it a pleasurable tug. Pike tipped his head back and let out a low moan while Ryan pressed curved lips against Pike’s neck, chuckling lowly. “Yeah.”

Pike’s head swam. When was the last time he’d been in this situation? Well, not this exact situation. He didn’t often let himself get tied up. Maybe a few times. But that was neither here nor there. What was he saying?

Right. When had he been this close to another without interruption? The rest of the team was always barging in on them when he and Gyro-

“You’re pretty desperate, huh?” Ryan’s hot breath caressed the sensitive skin of Pike’s neck.

“Y-Yes…” Pike whined and then cleared his throat. “I mean, no. What?”

Ryan chuckled and drew back. “Come on, now,” he teased, the slight lilt in his deep voice doing things to Pike. Delightfully sinful things. “You’re the one who came on to me.”

“Yeah,” Pike purred, rolling his hips. “I was, wasn’t I?”

“Mhm,” Ryan hummed, canting to meet his thrust. And wow. Okay. So, he was packing.

Pike shivered, his tail curling at the mere thought of anything inside him. Let alone something so…substantial. It had definitely been too long. And once he got back to his team – if he felt like gracing those slimy traitors with his presence – he was going to rub it in Gyro’s face.

“You know, you don’t look like you’d put up too much of a fight,” Ryan said, bringing Pike out of his own head.

“Huh?”

“Yeah.” Ryan rubbed his palms up and down Pike’s sides, gazing at his form appreciatively. “But maybe you got away from me,” he added. “Sneaked off during the night or something like that.”

Then Pike caught on. “I am pretty sneaky,” he breathed, brushing their noses and wanting so badly to close the gap between their lips.

“You’re going to get me in so much trouble,” Ryan said with a slight shake of his head. And Pike readily embraced this new flirty version of his captor.

“Yeah, I do that,” Pike snorted and then let out a startled squeak when Ryan pressed their lips together, the hands on his waist lowering to grip his backside and pull their hips flush. “A-Ah,” he gasped, opening his mouth and letting Ryan inside.

It had been way too long and this was so good. No, better than good. Amazing. Ryan’s earlier blush had given Pike the idea that he was flustered. And maybe he had been. But now he was in control and Pike was loving it.

“Mmm…Ryan,” Pike moaned, rutting against the very obvious tent in the other’s pants. He pulled back, panting, and glanced down. Then he licked his lips, not missing the way Ryan’s dark gaze followed the motion. “Hey, do you think I could-”

“Pike!”

Both Ryan and Pike straightened, their heads whipping toward the direction of the shout. And there, bursting through the brush in full armor was none other than

“Gyro?” Pike blinked, confused as to why he was there. But, more than that, disappointed that he and Ryan had been interrupted. He’d really wanted to get his mouth around the other’s-

“Get your hands off him!” Gyro snapped, his glare directed not at Pike, but at Ryan.

Oh, great. A few nights together – or a few dozen, maybe, Pike had lost count – and now Gyro thought he needed to fight for Pike’s honor or something. Ah well, time to set the paladin straight. But Pike had barely opened his mouth before Gyro continued.

“I went along with the plan and followed after you two-”

Wait. Plan?

“-but I lost you at the bend in the path-”

Hold on.

“-and then I come to find-” Gyro faltered, wildly gesturing toward them. “This!” He shook his head. “And even though I was supposed to let him turn you in and then take the reward money-”

Ah.

“-which, honestly, didn’t seem like the right thing to do, but Meklavar had phrased it in such a way-”

Of course.

“-anyway,” Gyro paused, raising his sword and getting into a fighting stance. “I demand you release my teammate this instant!”

Pike sighed. He couldn’t be mad at Gyro. Well, yes. Yes, he could. But Gyro was only trying to do the right thing. Pike let his head fall back. Gyro was noble to a fault and a great comrade, but damn, why did he have to show up before it got good? Well, maybe Pike could convince the paladin to make it up to him later.

With another sigh, Pike lowered his chin so he was looking at Ryan once more. The mercenary simply raised his eyebrows and Pike gave him a sheepish smile. “Raincheck?”

At that, Ryan’s lips curled, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Or…you could convince your friend to go for a walk around the woods,” he suggested.

In his periphery, Pike saw Gyro’s grip on his sword slacken. “…Pike?”

“Or…” Pike began, mimicking Ryan’s tone. He glanced over at Gyro, flicking his ears and curling his tail. “I could convince him to join us.”

Hey, two for one. And, as he’d mentioned earlier, Pike was always up for a challenge.

#kinkance #ryance #lance #ryan kinkade #shiro #pike #gyro #voltronbingo #voltronbingoworks #seduction #long post #vld

[youhearstatic]

it’s not a super specific prompt but just some good ole fashioned blupjeans mutual pining? that’s my SHIT

(Hey! How about a good old fashioned mutual pining trope? I’ve never tried this one! See if you can name that trope before it happens… Also, look, uh, this one gets long as hell. 4500 words long, yo. Please, please give me some reblogs on this monster, okay? Do it for the blups.)

They can and have done a lot of things to claim the light of creation in the last thirty eight cycles. They’d fought dragons and demons and religious cultists. They’d set up farms and rebuilt towns and searched for an animal thought extinct.

They couldn’t do much when it sank to the bottom of an ocean though.

It wasn’t even a good ocean like the one on the Beach World. This was a cold, merciless ocean. The Starblaster hovered over the spot where they were certain it landed for a few days, trying to think of any way to recover the light from beneath the water.

Finally they have to admit defeat. They will spend the year learning what they can of the world so they can record its stories.

Merle disappears into parley and the other six of them discuss their options. They’ll go in shifts, keeping two close to the ship and trade off with the other two pairs.

Lucretia wants to talk to residents the many port towns they’ve seen here and learn as many stories as she can. Taako wants to find new cooking supplies that will build up their stockpile. They decide their goals overlap well enough they’ll stick together.

Magnus and Davenport decide to focus on the Brigade outpost. The two of them hope to study military strategies and find training opportunities.

Barry and Lup will learn what they can of the science and magic of this world. During their expedition they will focus their time at the largest city they’ve found.

(Lots more after the readmore, apologies if you’re on mobile! This is also your last chance to guess that trope!)

In their first foray into the city they focus their time on the large temple. The clerics there are collectors of knowledge. They are happy to let them study in their massive library in exchange for a donation and attendance at their services. It’s more than a fair price.

The problem is that their visit coincides with the biggest religious ceremony the temple hosts. People from all over make the pilgrimage to the city for the event. Finding a place to stay for their expedition is difficult. They are lucky to overpay enormously in exchange for a single attic room in a small inn.

“We should have just called back to the ship and switched off,” Barry points out. “Dav and Magnus wouldn’t have cared.”

“No, but I’m ready for some not-Starblaster time, aren’t you?” Lup asks as they climb the stairs.

Then she opens the door to the attic room - a door that is in fact more access hatch than door. Lup nearly closes it and agrees to return to the ship. Only extreme stubbornness and the fact that she’s literally just said she didn’t want to go back to the Starblaster makes her enter the room.

The room is a room in name only. In reality it’s a space between beams. There is a narrow path of space where they can stand up before the roof slants down towards the bare wood floor on two sides of the room. A lone bed is at one end of the narrow space and a water pitcher and wash basin on a stand at the other end, with the access hatch door in the center.

She clears the entry so Barry can come in. “See,” she says, “if we’d gone back to the ship you would have missed these glorious accommodations.” She turns and drops her bag on the floor. “What a shithole.”

“Do you want to go back to the Starblaster?” he asks quietly.

Lup shakes her head. “It’s fine. We can head back in the morning.”

“Okay,” Barry answers.

He takes a step towards the end of the room with the wash basin and drops his bag on the floor. He pulls off his red IPRE robe and blankets it out on the floor by his bag.

Lup asks, “What are you doing?”

Barry bends to pull off his heavy boots but not before she catches his face turning scarlet. “I’ll sleep over here,” he answers, carefully lining up his boots next the wall to avoid meeting her eye. “You take the bed.”

“Barold.”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine, Lup. I don’t mind.”

Lup comes over and pulls at his sleeve. “Come on, Barry. We can share the bed. You don’t have to sleep in the floor.”

“Lup, really, I don’t…”

“Barry. Come on. I’m not having you sleep on the floor. And I’m not sleeping in the floor either. So, let’s just…” she lets go of his shirt and gestures both hands towards the bed impatiently.

For a long moment he just stands there then he picks up his robe, shakes it out, and walks over to the bed.

“Do you have a side preference?” he asks quietly.

“Barry,” Lup says, sounding exhausted, “I could not possibly give less of a shit.”

He crosses to the far side of the bed, bending over to avoid knocking his head on the slanted roof.

Lup squats by her bag to rummage through it for clothes to sleep in. She pulls out an old tank top and a pair of shorts. When she looks up she sees Barry has flipped the blanket back. It sits on the side of the bed he’s left for her. He’s got his robe thrown over him like a blanket. And he’s wearing his pants.

“Barold Jarold Sildar Hallwinter Bluejeans Starblaster, do you sleep in your bluejeans?” Lup asks, horrified.

“Just for tonight,” he responds.

“What?” Lup asks. “Oh, come on. Are you so embarrassed to change that you’re going to sleep in your jeans?”

“It’s fine,” he insists, turning on his side to face the wall.

Lup rolls her eyes as she pulls her shirt over her head. She knows he won’t turn around but she doesn’t actually care if he does. She almost wishes he would. Maybe then something would happen without them having to talk about it.

They’d have to talk about it, though. She doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s all too complicated. They work together. They live together. They literally can’t get away from each other. It’s too much to risk.

Isn’t it?

She throws her shirt on top of her bag and pulls the tank top on. Unhooking her bra, she’s shrugging her arms free while keeping the tank top on before she stops to wonder if she should leave it on. Barold is in jeans and she’s taking her bra off?

Fuck it, the answer is not for her to be less comfortable.

“Get your jeans off,” she tells him as she pulls her own pants off. “Knowing you are trying to sleep in jeans is giving me hives or something.” Once her pants have landed on top of her bag with her shirt she grabs the shorts from the bed and slips them on.

Lup climbs onto the bed on her knees and begins poking Barry in the back. “Come on. Seriously. Sleeping in jeans? I’ll give you they’re useful the rest of the time but sleeping, Barry? No.”

“It’s one night, Lup,” he grumbles but he’s getting up. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

She’s tempted to watch but doesn’t, turning to give him the same privacy he afforded her. She already knows he wears boxers. They’ve all seen each other’s laundry enough to know every article of clothing by heart. He has navy blue ones, two different types of plaids, and red ones with white hearts that she’s wanted to ask about for years now. Something about them screams Valentine’s Gift Set and she wants to know the story. Were they a serious gift? A gag gift? Did he get his heart broken? Was he…

Lup’s heart  stutters wildly for a few beats. Was he in a relationship when they left? It’s been decades and any relationship would clearly be in the past what with all the time that has passed and the fact that the Hunger devoured their home world. But it makes her skin feel too tight to think about it. It makes the blanket touching her skin feel hot and made of sandpaper. He’s never said anything about someone he left behind but Barry can be so quiet about things. That’s a great quality if he’s keeping a confidence you don’t want shared but when you’re worried he’s mourning a great lost love the trait is frustrating.

The bed gives as he sits back down and suddenly the boxers are all she can think about. If Barry Bluejeans is settling into bed beside her in boxers given to him by a lover that was eaten by the Hunger she won’t be able to stand it. She’ll have to get up and march her way out of the city back to the Starblaster.

Lup flops over onto her back and peeks. She sees red. And hearts. Fuck. She flicks her hand at the single light overhead and plunges the room into darkness. It doesn’t help. Her darkvision takes over and the stupid boxers are burned into her brain anyway.

He pulls his IPRE robe over himself like a blanket and arranges himself facing the wall.

Lup squeezes her eyes shut. Her fists are tight at her side. She has a few options here.

One, put this horrible thought out of her head and go to sleep. Her fingernails bite into her palms. That one’s not going to happen.

Two, get up and go back to the Starblaster. But then she’d have to come up with an excuse and she’s absolutely blank for even the most transparent explanation.

Three, ask him. No, she’s not going to ask him if he’s wearing the gift from some tragically stolen lover. That is absolutely not a thing she’s going to…

“What’s with the most cliche pair of boxers ever, Barry?”

Barry tenses beside her and she braces for his stuttered explanation. Shit, she’s still going to have to come up with that excuse to head back to the ship, isn’t she?

“They’re…,” Barry begins, “they were…” His voice is a husky whisper beside her in the darkness. He curls in on himself, pulling his shoulders in tight and she feels so much worse now. She could have kept her bad feelings to herself but no, she’s reminded him now too. Brilliant, just brilliant.

“I’m sorry,” she says honestly. “It’s fine. You don’t have to tell me. None of my business.”

“It’s okay,” he says and his voice has that quality she recognizes so well. That something that says he’s pushing himself and it makes her weirdly proud to hear it. He’s changed so much from those first cycles. He’s stronger and more self assured and he forces himself to stand up to challenges in a deliberate way that makes her feel fiercely protective.

“You, uh, you know those, those like, uh, gift sets? For Valentine’s Day?” he asks and she can practically hear the color in his cheeks as he speaks.

She forces out a noise of affirmative understanding.

“Well, uh, the, um, the boxers, uh,” he’s stammering over the words with such difficulty her heart hurts again. “They, uh, they came with… you know those… What do they call them? The, uh, the candy with the cashews and caramel and…” he goes quiet. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” he apologizes.

“Turtles.” she supplies in the middle of his apology.

“Yes!” he answers and the change in his voice is clear even in the single syllable.

“It was, uh, a whole box of turtles. Not the, um, assorted stuff like Valentine’s candy usually has. You know, with all the, uh, all the weird flavors no one likes.”

“Those are good,” she agrees quietly. “The turtles, I mean. The other ones, yeah, usually half of them are disgusting.”

“So I bought ‘em. I, uh, wasn’t going to…” he stops because Lup is laughing. “What?” he asks.

She can’t answer him. The whole bed is shaking from the force of her laughter.

He turns over onto his back so he can look at her though he can’t see much in the dark. “What?” he asks again.

Lup still can’t give him words. She sits up and leans towards her knees, wiping her eyes. She’d completely tied herself in knots about some phantom love and it was just about Barry wanting chocolate.

“They’re,” she manages before her composure slips away again. She wipes tears from her eyes, feeling relieved and ridiculous and boy, that really is a lot of relief, she’s swimming in it. 

“Sorry,” she tells him once she can handle speaking. “I don’t know, it just,” she laughs again, “just hit me funny, I guess.”

She lays back down and turns to face him. He turns his head towards her but she can tell that between the dark and his lack of glasses, he’s not seeing much. His face has that soft look he gets when he can’t see what’s going on. She wants to put her hand on his cheek so much it’s nearly a physical pain. She winds her fingers in the blanket to keep the hand in check.

His eyes dart over her face, trying to sort out details in the darkness and the blur but he gives up and turns to look at the ceiling. “I wasn’t going to keep them but then they fit and they were pretty comfortable,” he says, the words flowing out in a rush. “Now I get a new pair every year thanks to the bond engine,” he adds. “If I’d known, uh, I would have picked something more reasonable.”

“Nah,” she says, “they’re great.”

He can hear the smile in her voice and it’s nice. It doesn’t feel like she’s laughing at him. He doesn’t know what she’s amused by but it’s not the bad feeling of missing a joke or worse, being the joke. This feels comfortable and nice. “Thanks,” he says, unsure what else to say to that comment.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” she tells him and that smile he sensed before feels absent now. She’s being sincere.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “I, uh, I’m glad it was funny, I guess.” He wants to tell her that he likes her laugh. He could probably say it any other time and it wouldn’t be that weird. But now, in the dark, in a shared bed, with the feeling of her eyes on him, he can’t make the words come out. The comment feels too intimate in these circumstances.

He yawns and pulls his robe up to his chin. As soon as he does that his legs are cold. There had been some benefit to sleeping in jeans, after all.

“Here,” she tells him, flipping the blanket out to cover his chest.

“Oh, that’s, uh,” he begins to protest. “You don’t have to…”

“Shhh, Barry,” she interrupts. She kicks her foot against the bottom of the blanket to spread it over his lower half. When she lowers her leg it brushes against his. The accidental touch of bare legs freezes both of them in place.

“Guess, uh, guess we should, um…” Barry says in that quiet, husky whisper that nearly makes her shiver.

“Get some sleep,” she finishes abruptly, needing to distract herself from the rumble of his gravelly voice and her awareness of his body beside her. “Yup, we should, uh, do that,” she agrees. She’d felt bad he was cold with his robe as a blanket but now she’s hyper aware that their mostly bare skin is separated by nothing but a handsbreadth of space.

Lup turns over onto her back and stares at the ceiling above. She can’t believe she’s gotten herself into this situation. She had not just willingly walked into a one bed situation but insisted they stay when he offered they return to the ship. When had she turned into a masochist? Her awareness of Barry Bluejeans is not a surprise. She’s caught herself looking at him or thinking about him or assembling lists of reasons both to grab him and kiss him and reasons to absolutely not do that.

Barry is too nervous to move. That brief touch of their legs has short circuited his system in a way he’s vaguely ashamed of. It was nothing and he’s laying here unable to think of anything else as if he were a school boy who just found his dad’s dirty magazines. Not that Barry ever experienced that situation since his dad died before he was born.

He’s too hot now under the blanket and robe combination so he pulls the robe out and drops it to the floor beside the bed. She hadn’t insisted he take off his shirt and now his fingers toy with a button, needing something to fidget with.

When Barry shifts, Lup glances his way again. She catches a flash of his robe in the darkness after he frees it from the blanket. He drops it to the floor and she remembers his intent to sleep on the floor. Who else would have even done that? Davenport, maybe. Only Barry would immediately assume it, though.

“Hey,” she says, as a wave of affection washes over her. “Thanks.” She slides her hand over and finds his arm, traces up to where it rests on his chest and takes his hand. She curls her fingers into his and leaves her hand lying there on his chest. The impulse had gotten away from her but she’s determined to be nonchalant about it.

“Thanks?” he asks, his fingers twitching briefly before settling with hers.

“Yeah,” she says. “Thanks. I know I’m bossy sometimes. The room, the pants…” she rubs her thumb along the edge of his hand then stops herself. “So thanks for rolling with that, I guess.”

“Oh,” he says. “Sure. Um, I mean, you’re welcome?” He squeezes her fingers then relaxes. “It, uh, doesn’t bother me. You just know what you want,” he tells her. His words are slow and thoughtful. “That’s a good way to be.”

Lup can’t respond to that. Right now ‘what she wants’ is to pull his hand and the rest of him close and snuggle into his warmth, feel his skin pressed against hers, maybe find his mouth with hers and… she cuts off the line of thought before it goes more out of control.

“Do you think that temple has anything that will help us?” he asks.

It takes a moment to pull her mind onto the topic after the track it had taken. “Oh, uh, yeah, hope so.”

She manages to fill her head with the mission that brought them here. Or at least she keeps it focused on that enough to distract herself from thoughts of Barry Bluejeans beside her in red boxers with little hearts on them. Red boxers that he got free with a box of candy and now gets yearly from the bond engine.

They talk quietly about the plan for the next day. They’ll look around the temple’s libraries enough to decide if it’s worth a return trip then head out of the city to meet up with Davenport and Magnus on the ship. They’ll trade turns and come back later if the temple has anything worth coming back for. If not, they can pick a new target for their next attempt.

Barry’s words are getting softer and less frequent. Lup’s fingers are still twined with his and neither of them are discussing this fact nor moving to reclaim their hands. He wishes he could stay awake and appreciate the feeling but sleep is definitely getting its hooks into him.

Lup hears his words falter for the final time and then transform into gentle snores. Her arm is still resting on his chest and she should take it back. She tells herself to pull her hand back and turn over, go to sleep, wake up in the morning, pretend none of this happened. But she feels warm and happy in this moment and sees little reason to push the feeling away.

Now that her worry about the source of his red and white heart underwear has been solved she feels silly for the fear. She knows he’s looked at her the same way she’s looked at him. Taako has hinted again and again that she should go for it and he’d never encourage something if he thought it would end badly for her.

But the worry of what could go wrong remains. And the worry of someone like him - good and kind and ever thoughtful of other people’s feelings - and someone like her - headstrong and impatient and not good at the give and take relationships seem to require - is another thing she can’t quite let go of.

Like Barry’s hand, she realizes.

Lup forces her fingers to untangle from his. He tightens his grip for a moment in his sleep but then lets her slip free. Her hand feels wrong now after the rightness of being caught with his. She crosses her arms over her belly and hugs herself. Her warm and happy feeling has disappeared.

She turns over to face away from him and pulls her legs up, curling in to comfort herself. Something is going to have to change soon. She has to give up fighting this feeling or get much better at the battle. She can’t remain neutral much longer, pretending her feelings don’t exist.

Trying to relax and distract herself for sleep, Lup begins running through recipes in her head. She wonders if she could find the ingredients to make turtles in this city. Just because he’s gotten her thinking of them, though. That’s all.

—

Barry wakes with a start. It takes him a moment to realize what pulled him out of sleep. The room is still dark and his eyes can’t make out much beyond the pale, blurry square of moonlight at the far end of the room where the uncurtained window shows the sky. Not the Starblaster, he realizes, then instantly it comes back to him where he is, just as Lup cries out again.

“Barry! Please!” her voice is low and she sounds almost anguished.

“Lup,” he says, gently touching her arm. “You’re having a nightmare, it’s okay.”

She opens her eyes and he can see the light caught there. In her eyes, light blazes at him so much stronger than the pale glow at the window. “Barry?” she asks, confused.

“You were having a nightmare,” he repeats.

Her eyes go so wide it’s clear even to his terrible human vision. “What did, uh, what did you hear?”

“Nothing really,” he says. “You just, uh, you seemed… upset?” he turns the word up at the end into a question, suddenly unsure what he had heard.

“Oh, uh, okay,” she says hesitantly and swallows. “Thanks,” she says and turns on her side, pulling the blanket around her.

Her breathing is fast and he’s worried. She clearly doesn’t want to talk about it, though. Had she said his name or did he imagine that part? He tries to turn back to face the wall but the blanket is pulled too far towards her side now.

Barry is still for a while, trying to decide between reaching down for his robe in the floor and disturbing her with the movements of the bed. Finally he realizes her breathing has slowed down enough she might be asleep. Slowly, carefully, he shifts himself closer to the edge of the bed, trying to reach down to fumble his hand on the floor, feeling for his IPRE robe. He’s just felt the edge of it when Lup’s arm finds his midsection, her fingers pulling him towards her.

“Lup?” he asks in a voice that’s barely a whisper.

She doesn’t respond, just moves closer, her arm around him as she presses herself tightly to him.

He’s certain she must be unaware. Maybe in her sleep she thinks she’s pulling closer to Taako. He’s not sure what to do but he’s reluctant to disturb her after her dream. Finally, he gives up on the robe and pulls his arm back up to wrap around hers. It’s not a bad position, he decides. He can probably sleep like this.

Lup has forced her breathing to slow and her body to calm itself. He’d thought she was having a nightmare? She doesn’t know what he’d heard but she’s relieved he came to that conclusion, however incorrect it might be. It had definitely not been a nightmare.

When he shifts towards the edge of the bed, Lup became positive he was trying to slip out. He’s probably trying to get away and sleep in the floor like he’d originally intended. Before she can fight the impulse, she’s reaching for him.

He says her name and she bites her lip to keep from answering. Maybe he’ll think she’s asleep. She lets the instinct take over long enough to snuggle up next to him. After a moment he puts his arm with hers and she really relaxes. She’d like to return to her dream but the feeling of his fingers on her arm is good enough.

They both slide slowly back into sleep, pulling closer to each other unconsciously.

—

When Barry wakes up they are facing, their arms wrapped around each other. Her head is tucked down towards his chest and his face is in her hair. There’s none of his middle of the night confusion. When he wakes up this time he knows exactly where he is and what is going on. But he doesn’t move. In this moment, there isn’t a force in the multiverse that could make him.

He’s been in love with her for so long now. Remembering anything before this feeling filled his chest is like remembering being an infant. He’s sure it happened, sure it was a part of his life, but it’s impossible to imagine. Barry feels tears sting his eyes because this moment can’t last. She’ll wake up and laugh at the awkwardness and they’ll go about their day and this will never happen again.

He drops a kiss in her hair and forces himself to take his arm back, sit up, move away from her. Only the thought of her laughing at their position can make him do it. If she treated it like a joke he might break, literally shatter into pieces. Maybe that’s melodramatic but it feels absolutely true.

Lup forces herself to let him slide free. She’s been awake for long enough to see the room brighten around her. She’s been awake long enough to know she doesn’t want to move, possibly ever.

She’s been awake long enough to feel him wake up. She’s been awake long enough to feel a cold dread, knowing he will get up and this moment she’s been clinging to will end. 

She’s been awake long enough to feel the kiss he presses into her hair.

She’s been awake long enough to know she’s lost this war against herself.

She’s been awake long enough to know this is where she belongs.

She’s not going to fight it anymore. She’s not going to try to keep their orbits apart any longer.

Sometime - sometime soon she thinks - they will crash into one another and this will be how she wakes up every morning. It’s inevitable.

And then they won’t let go.

#blupjeans #barry and lup #barry bluejeans #lup #taz fic #taz balance #mystuff #mywriting #mutual pining #prompt request #thanks for the request! #onlythingbetterthanhairspray #holy crow this got long #apologies again to mobile people! #please reblog if you enjoyed this #i spent a lot of time on it #and i'd super appreciate it

[samthewrestlingfan]

Bad At Love: Kenny Omega

Hi there, Lovebugs!

Here is a new lil Kenny fic! This is my first time writing Kenny, so please be gentle <3

Let me know if you like it! I enjoyed writing this one :)

Next this to come out will be the next chapter of BELIEVER. (No I haven’t forgotten about it!)

btw this is hella long and im sorry.

Characters: Kenny Omega/OC

Warnings: Alcohol, angst, MILD smut, fluff.

(gif credit: @toosweetme)

I took a swig of my beer, before I practically slammed it down on the table.

You’ve got this, Ella. If he shows up, just ignore him.

I felt a nudge on my side, snapping me out of my daze. “You doin’ okay?” Marty asked.

I nodded at him quickly, returning my attention to my alcohol. I heard an audible sigh come from him, “If you keep acting like this, you’re only going to draw attention to yourself, and how uncomfortable you are.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, Marty. I’m just…” I droned off, not bothering to continue my sentence. Marty excused himself leaving me with my drink and the Bucks on opposite ends of the table.

Truth be told I wasn’t anything; mostly because I wasn’t allowing myself to feel anything. My plan was to enjoy my night out with my friends, and not let Kenny Omega and his inability to think with anything but his dick ruin that for me.

“Els! Come grab a shot with me?” Matt offered.

I perked up at his behest, “Definitely.”

Matt ordered quite literally a whole tray of sake shots, and as we waited for them, I began to loosen up.

Matt cleared his throat suddenly, “Look, I know this probably isn’t my place, but you’re my friend, hell one of my best friends, and Kenny is too. I just don’t want to have the two of you lose a great friendship over this…”

I nodded as he spoke. He was right, I knew what I was getting when I fell for Kenny. I just never expected things to turn so sour so quickly.

Kenny and I had never see each other as more than friends. Ever. At least I didn’t, then one night it just clicked.

…and by clicked, I mean we fucked.

***

“Please let me help you…” Kenny chuckled.

I hiccuped, “Listen you, go back to the party, I’m f-fine!” I laughed, practically falling face first into the side of the elevator.

I was drunk as a skunk and everyone knew it.

“Ella, I swear to God you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever known.” Kenny said grabbing my arm to stabilize me.

I leaned into him and laid my head on his strong shoulder, “Yeah but you love me for it.” I inhaled his scent, he smelled like man and sex and ecstasy. Again, I’m pretty sure this is the alcohol talking.

He kissed my forehead, as the elevator reached my floor. “Let’s go drunky.”

***

I pushed open my hotel room door, Kenny following swiftly behind me.

“Alright Beautiful, Let’s get you in bed.” Kenny held my waist, guiding me into the dimly lit hotel room.

I groaned to myself, “Ughhh, I don’t wanna be alone.” I flopped myself on the edge of the bed, bending down, unstrapping my heels.

Kenny walked toward the bathroom, “You know you contradict yourself a lot? A second ago you told me to go back to the party.” I heard the bathroom door click closed and decided to hurry up and change for bed.

The room was spinning as I undressed, barely able to make out what I was ripping off from where. I was stood in the middle of the room,  and my black thong and matching bra, searching for my pajamas.

“Oh…right.” I mumbled to myself, remembering they were in the bathroom.

I stumbled through the room, and knocked on the door leaning against the frame, “Ken, I need my pjs.”

He swung open the door, “Fuck you’re–” I watched his eyes scan me up and down, “Whoa.”

I snuck by him, grabbing my clothes off the vanity. “What?” I asked.

Kenny cleared his throat, “Ella the tequila may have stolen my filter,  but you look,” He bit his bottom lip, “Incredible.”

My face burned at his compliment, and from my current state of intoxication. “Ken you’ve seen me in my gear, this isn’t that different is it?.” I spun around, giving him a nice view of my round behind, teasing him a bit.

He ran his hand over his face, “Oh-ho-ho, you have no idea…”

I climbed onto the bed, Kenny following quickly after me. I rested on the edge of the bed, my knees dug into the mattress to keep me from wobbling.

I reached out for Kenny and grabbed both sides of his lapel, pulling him into me slowly.

“Still want me to stay?” He asked almost hopeful, placing his hands on my hips.

I paused for a moment, allowing my eyes to connect with his. I saw a hunger in them, one that made a throbbing erupt from between my legs.

“I do.” I breathed.

Kenny brought his face close to mine. “Is this okay?” He asked.

I nodded. He brushed his lips against mine, and ran his rough fingertips up and down my sides. “Is that okay?”

I swallowed hard, “Yes.”

Without hesitation, Kenny kissed me. Hard. His hands searching for every curve my body had…

***

And the rest is history.

Except for the past few weeks, Kenny hadn’t spoken to me outside of work. He stopped calling, stopped texting…everything just stopped and he was gone. Kenny was never just gone, he always woke up with me, our limbs tangled together. He would kiss me good morning, then ask if I wanted to grab breakfast.

“Ella? Did you hear me?” Matt asked, eyebrows raised.

I looked to him quickly, “Hm? Oh yeah. Thanks, Matt.” I said. Truth be told, I stopped listening. I’m sure he was just telling me what everyone was telling me. At this point, I was sick of hear it.

I downed another shot, before excusing myself. “Matt, I’m just gonna run to the bathroom.”

His eyes widened. “But Ella didn’t you–”

“Matt,” I interrupted. “I’m fine.” I gently rubbed his shoulder before turning to walk–or stumble my way. The bar was dim, and smelled like an odd combo of memories and mistakes.

As I turned the corner I stumbled and slammed into the wall.

“Fuck…” I said as I hit the ground.

I heard a gruff laugh, “Nice mouth.” I looked up to see a strong hand held out for me.

God has a sick sense of humor. I thought to myself, realizing Matt must have been trying to warn me.

“You just gonna hang out on the floor all night?” Kenny said sarcastically.

I begrudgingly held my hand out, allowing him to help me up. I rose to my feet, crossing my arms in front of me.

“Thanks.” I spat.

Kenny smiled softly, brushing a stay piece of hair out of my face. “No problem, Els.”

I continued toward the bathroom, a billion thoughts running through my head. Does he hate me now? Was I not good enough for him? Has he moved on to someone else? Someone better than me?

“That’s it.” I grit my teeth together, and stomped back towards Kenny.

“Hey!” I shouted at him as he walked away. His head turned towards me, stopping mid step.

“You. Me. Outside…now.” I grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and yanked him towards the door.

He walked with no hesitation. Outside onto the dirty street, and down the small side road next to the bar, he finally stopped to perch against the brick siding.

Kenny’s eyes bore holes into mine. There he was. Right in front of me, and I had every opportunity to say everything I was feeling.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

…and I choked.

“What?” He asked offended.

“What nothing!” I yelled. “You’ve completely ignored me for the past few weeks. You can barely be in my presence for more than two  minutes without finding a reason to leave!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and it felt damn good.

I took a deep breath, “You made me feel like shit, Ken. You made me feel used. Was that your plan? Get your dick wet, then ignore me for the rest of your life?”

Kenny took a step towards me. “Are you done?”

I scoffed, “Unbelievable! I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think Kenny Omega could ever give two fucks about me.”

“Don’t say that…you know I care about you.” He said, hurt painting his words.

“No you don’t. You cared about having someone you could fuck on a moments notice, well jokes on me huh.” I flipped him off, walking away swiftly but he pulled me back.

“Oh no, you don’t get to scream at me like a psycho then just walk away.” He held me still so I couldn’t leave. I snatched my arms back and crossed them in front of me.

“What could you possibly have to say to me to–” Kenny put a finger to my lips. “Ella, please, as much as I love your voice, just…shh.”

Kenny stepped back and brushed his hair back. “I haven’t been with anyone else.”

My eyes flashed to him. “What?” I asked.

“You. The last time we we’re together, you we’re the last person I was with.” He said confidently.

I rolled my eyes, “What does that matter Ken?”

“I don’t know. I’m just offended that you think so fucking little of me.”  He rested his hands on his hips. My head was so foggy from the booze that I couldn’t tell what emotion he put behind that sentence.

“You haven’t exactly given me a reason to think otherwise.” I said, slurring my words despite my best efforts.

“Really? So I guess the years of friendship before any of this happened were pointless?” It was Kenny’s turn to get loud now. I guess I kinda deserve it.

A chill ran up my spine, the cold air registering with my flush body causing me to shiver. Kenny noticed, and stopped his pacing to walk toward me.

He let out a small laugh, before removing his jacket and placing it over my shoulders. “See? I’m not this heartless monster you made me out to be.”

This is the Kenny I knew. Sweet, and kind and always taking care of everyone. “Thank you.” I smiled softly.

“Did you ever think that maybe I didn’t want to hurt you?” He mumbled suddenly.

“What?” I questioned.

He cleared his throat. “Ella I’m not good at this stuff. I don’t know how to do the whole one girl thing.”

I scoffed, “Did I ever ask you for that?”

“No, but it’s what you deserve.” He spoke.

“Kenny, I knew what I was getting when we started whatever we were doing.” And that was true. I needed someone and so did he. We were more than comfortable with one another and it seemed to be enough, until my dumbass caught feelings.

“I was sick to my fucking stomach thinking about you with someone else. I couldn’t sleep without you next to me. I don’t know when I became such a fucking softy.” He laughed.

I placed a hand on his cheek. “Why did you just up and disappear then?” I said.

He sighed. “I needed to know if what I was feeling was something or if we had just gotten too comfortable with each other.”

I looked up to his eyes, “Well?” I asked.

He paused before he spoke, obviously trying to word what he wanted to say, “I fell for you, Els. I fell hard. I know I’ve been dick and I’m sorry. If you’d give me the time, I promise I’ll spend as long as you’d like making it up to you.”

My heart skipped a beat as he spoke. I didn’t know what to do beside stretch up and kiss him.

…and that’s exactly what I did.

I tangled my hands in his hair, our mouths getting familiar with one another again. Kenny pulled back and rested his forehead on mine. “I’ve missed that, Els.”

“Me too.” I said.

He stood up, offering me his hand. “C'mon. Let’s go celebrate with our nosey friends.” Kenny said gesturing to Nick and Matt’s faces in the window.

I took his hands and gripped it tight, “Can I buy my girl a drink?” He asked as he held the door.

My stomach churned at his offer. “Not a chance, Babe.”

#samthewrestlingfan #kenny omega #kenny omega fic #kenny omega fanfic #njpw #bullet club #the elite #omega #wrestling fanfic #marty scurll #young bucks #kenny omega angst #kenny omega fluff #kenny omega smut

[licorescence]

A State of Duress

Fandom: 終わりのセラフ | Owari no Seraph | Seraph of the End

Rating: T

Pairing: Mikaela Hyakuya x Yuuichirou Hyakuya (MikaYuu)

Notes: Ancient China-setting + Serious!Mika x Playful/Sly!Yuu

Warnings: Cussing/swearing, assassination attempt

A/N: A simple one shot based on the fic, Empire of Scarlet (planned by three amazing people), to celebrate Chinese New Year~ ^_^ If you’re confused with the use of the secondary names included, it’s because it is common practice in Ancient China to have courtesy names and titles to address people in society as a way to show respect. Also, it’s practiced during the Qin dynasty for Emperors to address themselves with the Imperial “We”. With that said, please enjoy~

——————————————————————————————————

"Your Highness, it is time to take your medicine." Scholar Kimizuki Shiho - courtesy name, Kiseki - reminded his king gently as he presented a bowl of liquid bitterness for the Emperor to drink. "The imperial physician told me that the headaches are becoming worse, and suggested to increase the dosage of ginseng root.”

"Ah... Leave it there, Kiseki. We still have work to finish..." Emperor Shindo Mikaela - title, Shikama-dōji - mumbled while he stared down on his study desk with multiple scrolls and maps scattered around. With a brush at hand, he wrote numerous theories and suggestions in neat calligraphy.

Shiho could only look at his Emperor’s back silently and sigh with a small frown. He place the bowl on a nearby table as he said, "Your Highness, this subject is worried for your health. You must not strain your dragon body no matter how much work you want to accomplish. There is still tomorrow; why does your Highness wish to rush things?"

Mikaela's hand pause.

"... Kiseki would not understand how we feel," Mikaela replied, but he put down his brush which brought Shiho some relief. "Every day, we feel danger around us. We would not know when we will die, so it is best that we finish this work as fast as possible. We fear that our time is short..."

Upon hearing that Mikaela was being threatened, Shiho became furious.

"---To force your Highness in such a state, who is it that wishes to court death so badly?" Shiho growled as a sense of protectiveness overcame him. "This subject shall tighten the security around the palace at once...!"

"..."

Mikaela watched silently from the corner of his eye as Shiho stomped away from his chambers, leaving him in the quiet, dimly lit room. Once the door to his quarters shut, a thin steel as sharp as a beast’s fang came from within the darkness, and made its way to his neck in an instant, surprising the Emperor a bit.

"Not bad. I didn't think your Highness could act so well despite having a knife on his throat. You have my praise." A playful voice complimented behind Mikaela's ear.

"If it would save any bloodshed, then I'm willing to take risks." Mikaela hissed as he dropped all formalities, but dared not to move as he tightly asked, "What do you want?" 

The assassin chuckled at the boldness of his prey. "You know what I want, your Highness. 

Mikaela frowned a bit at this person's vagueness before he replied curtly, "... My death will not satisfy you. If your goal is to take this empire from me, then you have to be accepted by everyone in the imperial court."

The assassin hummed. "As tempting as having the empire sounds, that is sadly not my goal, your Highness. It is a bit more personal, you see..." 

Personal…? 

Mikaela pondered for moment, combing into his memories on what could possibly be the reason why an assassin would come after his life. He knew that he wasn't terrible in his rule enough for people to rebel. In fact, Mikaela was quite good in handling his imperial duties in spite of his young age as he contributed much to the welfare of his people and formed peaceful relations with his neighboring kingdoms. The citizens felt like he was a literal blessing to them as oppose to his predecessor who was a tyrant that made their lives miserable day by day. 

Does this mean... 

"Are you, perhaps... A former vassal of the previous Emperor?" Mikaela asked while he carefully glanced over to his side to get a glimpse of the predator.

"Close, but not quite. Allow me to correct you." The assassin laughed dryly while he leaned close to whisper on Mikaela's ear. His hot breath tickled against skin to make just the smallest hint of goosebumps to rise on Mikaela’s flesh. "I'm his son." 

Mikaela's eyes widened considerably before he lifted his arm and swatted his assiliant away in blinding speed, causing the other to pull back at a certain distance. However, Mikaela managed to reach out for his shoulder and push him to the ground with a loud slam, earning him a grunt as the impact made the assassin lose his grip on the weapon which clattered to the floor.

"Who are you?" The Emperor demanded once he was out of danger, his eyes examining the intruder's appearance as best as he could against the candle light. 

"Like I said, I'm the son of the previous Emperor. You can call me, hmm... Ah! Asura! How about that?" The assassin answered with a huff, wincing every now and then at the newly blossomed pain on his body. "Why are you surprised, Shikama-dōji? Something like this shouldn't be new to you."

"From what I learned, the imperial records never mentioned that bastard having a son." Mikaela spoke firmly. "If you dare lie to me once more, I will not hesitate to execute you." 

"Such benevolence. However, I'm merely speaking the truth here. May lightning strike me should I ever utter silvery words towards your highness." The assassin, calling himself Asura, swore with a smile forming underneath the black cloth that hid his face. His green eyes shone with defiance. "I'm merely taking back the position that was rightfully mine. What's wrong about that?"

Mikaela scoff, not believing the other’s claim. He thought this man must be delusional if he were to think that he was related to that tyrant of an Emperor. "There's nothing to take back here. I have already rewritten the laws and customs. I made sure that your dynasty is no more within the lives of these people." 

"Ah, it seems your Highness has misunderstood once again." Asura taunted as his eyes stared up to the Emperor’s. "I don't care about dynasties. All I care about is putting fear into you; to haunt you everywhere you go as a reminder that the throne you were sitting on wasn't yours, you thief." 

To hear this unknown man call the Emperor a thief, of all things, made Mikaela's blood boil angrily. His blue eyes constrict with intent. 

“While I’m a patient person, I do have my limits, Asura. You best don’t test it while I’m still being nice, or I’ll rip out that lovely tongue off your mouth.” 

“Oh, you better not forget those words, your Highness. I will be disappointed if you do.” Asura teased in delight at the thought of being killed by Mikaela, and he placed a forefinger in between them, where their lips were just inches away from each other. “However, I still want to play, so please entertain me for a bit more.”

“Who in the heavens would want to play with---Mmph…?!”

Mikaela’s mouth was sealed with a kiss against a black cloth. It took him a moment to realize that the assassin was kissing him, and Mikaela fiercely brushed the other off of him with a gasp. Asura used the momentum to free himself from Mikaela’s grasp and jump up to an open window.

“As much as I want to stay, I have to bid your Highness farewell.” Asura grinned with a tap of his finger on his lips. “This little thing will serve as a seal to our small promise~”

Mikaela coughed and wiped his lips ferociously on his sleeve, still tasting fiber cloth on his mouth while he attempted to catch Asura. “You--! Stop right there!”

Asura chuckled before he disappeared into the night. The damn man was too quick on his feet, and it made Mikaela’s temper snap on the fact that his first kiss was stolen by a lowly scum like him. How dare he?!

“---GUARDS!”

The spectacle of an angry Emperor was truly a sight to behold, especially if said Emperor was the pacifist Mikaela. To see his calm and composed expression fall apart by not only being threatened, but also having his first kiss stolen brought a gleeful smile on Yuichiro’s lips. Who knew that it was easy to provoke the Emperor with just the right actions and words?

“I just fooled around for a bit, and then he cracks just like that. How fun~” Young master, Hyakuya Yuichiro – courtesy name, Asura – gloated as he watched on a tree at how Mikaela was fuming and yelling at his guards frantically to search out for him, lighting up the dark palace in the late hours of the evening.

“You’re being careless, young master.” Saotome Yoichi – courtesy name, Gekkouin – murmured beside Yuichiro as he lowered the cloth on his mouth. He held up a couple of manuals towards his companion. “I got the books you ask for. I know it’s not my place to say this but… I think young master’s martial arts is already perfect. Why must you resort to steal knowledge from the royal palace?”

“Well, Gekkouin… If I am to give some balance in our game, then it’s only fair of me to know everything that his Highness is knowledgeable of.” Yuichiro smirked as he took the books from Yoichi, pleased. “That way, I can match him in his wits. His Highness will surely be shaken up that he has a competitor after years of having no rival to stand before him.”

That, and along with my threat from before, the Emperor will have to sleep with one eye open every night~♪

Oh, the look of a visibly tired Mikaela brought a triumphant grin on his face. Yuichiro could only anticipate the Emperor’s next move from here on out as he returned home soundlessly like the wind.

#Owari no Seraph/Seraph of the End #MikaYuu #SFW

[swordliliesandebony-blog]

The Art of a Perfect Gift | Promptis Birthday Oneshot

Pairing: Promptis

Rating: T

Warnings: Absolutely tooth-rotting fluff. There is no other way to put it.

Summary:

Everyone Lives/Nobody dies AU, Prompto’s first birthday after Noct’s return from the crystal. Literally irredeemable fluff for Prompto’s birthday + to cheer up @destatree

[READ ON AO3]

Prompto is happy.

It’s a position he certainly never envisioned himself in. If he had been asked, at any point prior to this year, whether he even could be happy, he isn’t sure what he would have said. A staunch ‘unlikely’ would have probably been the case. Things tended to work out poorly for him. Hell, until a couple months ago, things tended to work out poorly for everyone. The world had been steeped in darkness, its only hope apparently lost to that stupid damn crystal. That stupid damn crystal is gone, though. It spit out the hope and they all clung to it, so impossibly hard, against fate and prophecy and all sorts of things that also tend to go poorly.

That hope, of course, being Noctis; Noctis, alive and well and- Prompto is pretty sure- happy just the same, months after a set of tearful, inevitable goodbyes. Months after they had been certain he had come back to them, just for that night, just to be stolen away again. They clung really hard. Maybe it isn’t real. Maybe they all died there, and they’re only existing on the other side of some invisible curtain, living out their well-deserved happiness while some real world picks up the pieces. He doesn’t think that’s so likely the case.

There wouldn’t have been such a recovery period if this were some many-named afterlife. Not for the world and not for Noctis, who is still walking a little slower, who still has one leg dragging at times and an elegant, regal, inherited cane to help on those worse days. There’s still pain and things are still hard. Rebuilding a world takes a lot out of a guy. It takes a lot out of a number of guys, in this case. And still, Prompto is absolutely, unspeakably, perfectly happy. He’s happy because he’s waking up warm and safe and with an arm tight around his waist, a hand trailing aimlessly over his chest.

“You’re up early,” Prompto mumbles the words only when he feels a familiar heat pressing against his shoulder. He might have mistaken everything else for dream-fueled gestures or mindless, sleep-addled touches, but the kiss is something that Noctis would only manage if he was closer at least to waking than slumber. It has him smiling, has his hand going to press over Noct’s and trap it close to the warmth of his chest. He can set aside, almost forget, the years he spent curled up to old shirts, curled up alone and dreaming of a morning like this. His heart feels swollen, so close to bursting, on this kind of morning.

“Big day. Wouldn’t wanna miss it,” Noct says it in a low tone, not tired but conscious of Prompto being so fresh from sleep. He says it and follows the words with more kisses, at the base of Prompto’s throat and running a line up to the edge of his ear, where he goes for just a brief, gentle little nip. It’s a somewhat uncommon affection. Not that they don’t share plenty on a regular basis, but Prompto is more the instigator, more the one who so deeply desires those reminders that Noct is there and alive and with him, against all possible odds.

“Big day…” Prompto repeats the words, and it’s clear enough that he has no idea what they refer to. He’s not great with dates. He would pretend it’s a pesky side effect of barely paying them mind for that dark third of his life, but that’s being a little bit too optimistic. The truth of the matter is, Prompto has never been great with them. There were important ones, of course, that he would keep track of and usually even pinpoint before they entirely passed. If there was a deadline, though, a big meeting or some new groundbreaking or any number of things that should definitely not be forgotten though, Prompto was sure to nearly miss the whole damn thing.

“Of course. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?” Noctis asks, and there’s a certain tone to his voice that gives Prompto cause. As if he’s actually a little bit hurt by the notion. It has Prompto turning in bed to face him, making sure all the while his face is arranged to perfectly display his confusion. To make it utterly obvious that he has no idea what it is he would expect Noctis to forget.

“I mean, if you had, I wouldn’t have known. What’s the date, anyway?” There’s a beat where it seems like Noctis is trying to decide whether he believes Prompto’s question. It’s only a second though, and then his face is cracking into a proper smile and a chuckle is catching in his throat. It makes Prompto blush a little, makes him put on something close to a scowl while he tries to work out the answer all his own. Noctis cranes down to press a kiss onto his forehead then, deciding that apparently isn’t entirely sufficient, trails a few more down across Prompto’s temple and over freckled cheeks. More warmth chases the kisses and, well, Prompto is smiling again before he has a chance to stop himself.

“You really are an old man now, huh? Forgetting your own birthday,” Noctis laughs through the words, eyes all lit up in the way that only the most genuine of his smiles manage to achieve. It makes Prompto’s breath catch every damn time. The words, though, they make him laugh just a little bit too. His birthday. Obviously. It’s a bit ironic, really, given how much excitement Prompto had harbored when it came to arranging that gift for Noctis a couple months before. This gift, more accurately, as the bed they’re sharing happens to be part of it. On the scale of important dates though, Prompto ranks his own birthday about a hundred notches below Noct’s and, well, he’d gone through many years without acknowledging the date at all, so maybe it’s only fair for him to have forgotten.

“Hush. You’re way older than me.”

“And still sharp enough to know it. C’mon, get up,” it’s absolutely a special day in Noct’s mind, if he’s the one urging them out of bed. Prompto groans but he doesn’t fight it, even if he takes a moment to crawl up over Noct, to get all straddled over him and laying on some kisses of his own. Noctis allows it, leans into it, plays right back at them for a few moments before he has them parting and Prompto guided to the edge of the bed.

“Not even gonna let me have a nice wake-up gift?” Prompto pouts, though it’s all a bit of a show. It’s easy to tell when Noct has something up his proverbial sleeve. Especially easy when it’s so obviously before noon and he’s making real, concentrated efforts to make it out of bed. It still wins a laugh and a shaken head though so Prompto is happy enough with the attempt. Their shoulders bump together when they’re both sitting there, a sort of gesture that makes Prompto feel very much half his age.

“Got something better planned, but you’re gonna have to get dressed for it.”

“Not sure I’m buyin’ anything that requires clothes as better. ”

“Gonna hafta trust me. If I’m wrong, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But I’m not wrong,” Noctis is putting on that total kingly confidence voice and, well, it works. It has Prompto finally rising from the bed and grumbling through the act of actually getting dressed. Noctis keeps reassuring, sliding an occasional  touch or  joke while he joins Prompto in the same. Prompto, for his part, isn’t entirely convinced. But it’s clear that Noctis has actual plans here, that he’s gone through the effort of coming up with something that he’s properly proud of, and Prompto isn’t about to discount that.

And, he has to admit, he’s pretty curious. Noctis isn’t big on the ‘planning’ thing. He leaves that sort of work to Ignis, more often than not. He’s more of the, ‘signing papers and looking pretty’ part of the equation. Okay, that isn’t entirely fair. He’s, more accurately, the public face of the rebuilding effort. The figurehead for a new world. The guy who died to save Everyone, then got plucked back from that to lead them. None of that means he’s ever planned an especially elaborate date, though.

Whatever the plan is, it’s set outside the slowly-rebuilding remnants of the city. Everything considered, Insomnia has returned to life at an absolutely startling speed. Structurally, some parts of the city weren’t entirely destroyed, though you wouldn’t necessarily know it when you spend a great deal of your time in and around the citadel. Still, people had a home here once, and a great deal of them want to reclaim it. Streets, as they head for the outward gate, are lined with makeshift stands; food, trinkets, crafted goods… there’s a great variety, enough that if Noctis weren’t leading them so pointedly out of the city, Prompto might have easily gotten lost among the shops. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

Noctis takes them to the gates of the city, to a truck Talcott has waiting for them and suddenly Prompto is incredibly interested in what exactly Noctis has in mind for the day. He tries to weasel the information out of Talcott, only to be told that he really has no idea, that they should have a good time, relax, all that. And, no, he really doesn’t know anything , please stop asking, happy birthday though. Deep down, Prompto is glad that Talcott didn’t have anything to spill. There’s a certain air of suspense and excitement when he climbs up into the cab of the truck, waits for Noct to get settled in and get them moving.

The truth of the matter is, their positions don’t give a lot of opportunity to steal away from the city. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, either. Noctis has still been recovering from his injuries, and the confinement is about the only way Prompto can imagine he would get any meaningful rest. He’s not exactly the sort of guy who appreciates being told to take anything easy. And, everything considered, the citadel has stood up well to all those years of enemy occupation. The throne room notwithstanding, of course, but Prompto is pretty sure they’re all better off for that fact, for any proper excuse to avoid looking back on what happened there. So, really, it’s exciting as hell to get a trip away from the city. Noctis must have pulled any number of strings to make it happen, too. His duties are endless, even more so than Prompto’s, which feels impossible at times. The odds of Noctis actually getting a day off all to himself? Well, the gesture is more than soundly appreciated.

“You’re seriously not gonna tell me where we’re going?” Prompto makes sure that his question has the appropriate amount of feigned bratty whining sung through the tone. It’s a game now, and it’s one that has Noctis smiling while they drive, only shaking his head at the thought of giving up the big surprise.

“Nope. Just gonna hafta be patient,” Noctis sounds terribly proud of himself with that, and it makes Prompto groan and throw himself back in the seat.

“Can I have a hint?” Prompto asks this when they’re a little ways out of the city, when they’ve passed Hammerhead and shown no signs of stopping off. Prompto didn’t exactly expect it to be their destination, but on the few journeys they’ve managed through the gates, they’ve tended to make it a quick stop before they head anywhere else. The place has purposed itself again so quickly it really does make Prompto’s mind spin. The remnants of the hunters’ camp still cling around the edges, but the place has easily reinvented itself again as a service outpost, thanks no doubt to Cindy’s efforts. Prompto likes stopping in, on the rare occasions they can, just to see how much has managed to change each time.

“You’re gonna like it,” Again, Noctis sounds proud of his words, the non-hint that they absolutely are. A silence falls for just a moment while Prompto squirms and makes a show of watching their surroundings pass, trying very obviously to guess their destination. Noctis breaks it though, with a lip quirking upward, “too bad about your camera getting all smashed. You’re totally gonna want pictures.”

Prompto feels his face fall for just a moment. It really is too bad, though it’s not as if their lives now have a whole lot that requires recording in photos. Still, it was a hobby he held close for a long time, one that he had even considered taking up again after Noct returned, in those few hours before he truly understood how short said return was thought to be. Something goes tight in his throat at the flood of memories, the ones that span back further, to campsites and inns and battles won by the skin of their teeth.

“Hey, could you grab me a drink? Should be some in the center console,” Noct’s voice snaps Prompto from his quickly sinking mood and he nods at once, eager to get his head around anything other than memories. These times, for once, are better in ways. Nothing is hidden any more. They aren’t holding hands behind any backs, they aren’t sneaking kisses when Gladio’s off training and Ignis is hard at work on dinner. They can be together, and they can do it safely. The nostalgia isn’t so deep and strangling as it was when the world was dark and Noct was gone and Prompto was trying so desperately to wait out his return. More things not to think about, as he snaps open the compartment to fish out Noct’s drink.

He probably should’ve caught the tone in his voice, or that smile that Noctis was losing the battle to fight down, but Prompto had been lost in his mind. So when he opens the console and instead of drinks, finds his camera waiting, it catches him entirely by surprise. He seizes it out at once, turns the thing in his hands, such a familiar weight even after all these years. It doesn’t quite compute to him. Every detail is exactly as he remembers, however impossible it is. He can still see the shattered pieces of the thing on the throne room floor, clear as day.

“How?”

“It’s not exactly the same one, obviously. But, y’know, same model and everything…” Noct’s voice sounds uncertain, apologetic even. Prompto has a feeling, if it was really an option, that Noctis would have had the original pieced back together and repaired properly. This would be, in his mind, the next best thing. Prompto can’t really think about anything along those lines, though. He’s flipping through settings, playing with buttons at once, something to hide the sudden sting in his eyes and tightness in his throat.

“Noct… this is amazing. I can’t believe you managed…” he really can’t say much, can’t trust his voice to hold out. But it has Noctis smiling all the same and, when the little waves of emotion stop rushing quite so hard through Prompto, he’s matching the expression. And, of course, he’s turning the camera to get a quick shot of them both crammed into the cab of the truck, all shining eyes and bitten-down smiles, “seriously, this is the best. I can’t believe it,” and Prompto keeps saying similar things every few minutes, his focus set properly on the camera.

Noctis doesn’t often do grand romantic gestures, but when he does, he manages to get them right. Even just that camera would have been enough to make Prompto’s whole damn day, he’s absolutely convinced of it. But they’re together, just the two of them, driving to some unknown destination on top of it. Noct is really good at this, when he puts his mind to it. Prompto is mostly glad that he’s gotten enough of a handle on his emotions when they turn finally off the main road and he realizes where they’re heading.

Generally speaking, there are two fates that the outposts of Lucis met over the ten years of darkness. The first is that the inhabitants fled for safer ground, somewhere closer to a main road, somewhere they might not be overwhelmed by the endless surges of daemons; usually Lestallum or Hammerhead or the old Hunters HQ, depending on where they might reach quickest. The second outcome was that the ever-swelling number of Hunters would come to them, establish a sort of field station, provide safety in their numbers. As a general rule, there had to be some draw. High ground, light from the meteor, sturdy shelters. Transportation.

The chocobo outpost isn’t entirely as Prompto remembers from that old lifetime, but it’s not far off, either. The value of the birds, when vehicles were increasingly hard to come by- and fuel more scarce still- was immeasurable. It was only natural that a place like this survive, perhaps even flourish. It still takes Prompto’s breath away when Noctis pulls them down that worn path, to see that sort of resilience in action.

“ Noct ,” Prompto doesn’t have the right words for it. He’s springing from the truck the moment it’s stopped, eyes huge with wonder, with excitement, and with absolute joy . Noctis tells him he can slow down, that the bird aren’t going anywhere, and that seems to be about as true a statement as any, but it doesn’t quite click in Prompto’s brain. It takes a lot of self-control to manage some words to the staff, though Noctis follows up to chat with them, and they don’t seem to take any mind with the absolutely childlike excitement.

Prompto is absolutely in heaven here. He’s snapping endless photos of the birds, of himself with the, then of Noct, of both of them, of every damn inch of the place. It’s not until he’s absolutely satisfied that he’s captured enough- and even then, he’s sure the camera will come back into play soon enough- that he focuses himself entirely on the chocobos. He really does feel like a kid, maybe even more so than their excursions out here on that road trip, when he was only a few years outside of actually being one. He offers up treats, and big lengthy pets along their necks. He feels very close to tears of joy when the occasional one will swoop down and nuzzle into his hand or chirp happily at his attention. It’s damn near more than he can comprehend.

“Why don’t we take one out for a ride?” Prompto has finally calmed a little, found himself giving special attention to an elderly old bird, jet black and full of affection for them both, when Noctis makes the suggestion. He has arms looped around Prompto’s waist and his chin rested on Prompto’s shoulder and he follows the suggestion with a brief kiss at his jaw. If the open affection bothers, or is even noted by any of the stable hands, nobody says a word. The birds definitely don’t seem to mind.

“Really? You wanna?” Prompto turns a little so that he can get a look at Noct. He almost- almost - feels guilty. He’s been absolutely swept up with this particular gift. Noctis hadn’t been wrong by any means when he said that Prompto would enjoy it, but there certainly hasn’t been enough thanks on that end. Noctis doesn’t seem to mind though, only smiles and nods and shifts so he can get a hand around Prompto’s.

“Told you it’d be good. I went all out, Prom. You set the birthday bar pretty high, y’know,” they share a laugh, though Prompto isn’t entirely convinced that Noct is being truthful there. Yeah, Prompto worked hard in getting that room set up for Noct. He busted his ass, searching through boxes and boxes to find old comics and games, all sorts of relics from the past that he hadn’t even been fully convinced Noctis would want. It had turned out perfectly in the end, but it was still a gamble, and still not all that impressive by Prompto’s way of thinking. Noctis was happy, though, and that made it all feel a hell of a lot better. Maybe this is the same.

Noctis wasn’t lying to say that he really had gone all out. The chocobo in question is already saddled up for them, an enormous bird more than fit to take them both. Prompto really does try to keep a lid on his enthusiasm, but when he’s perched up there, Noct all pressed against his back, reins in hand, he’s grinning like an absolute idiot. And he doesn’t care that he is. It’s all so damn exciting, so exhilarating. It’s perfect.

They move slow when they head out of the corrals and away from the outpost, relatively speaking. There’s still a pleasant breeze ruffling through Prompto’s hair and they’re still going far quicker than if they walked. Prompto asks, after a little ways, if he could take control for a little bit. Noctis only promises that he can in a bit, that he has a spot in mind beforehand though, just a little bit more carefully orchestrated birthday magic.

The place he has his mind is a plateau set high a mile or two off from the outpost. The view there is stunning, endless sky above and landscape below for miles in any direction. It makes Prompto just a little bit dizzy when Noctis helps him down. Prompto’s legs are a little sore, wobbly from the ride and the now-unfamiliar sensation of it, but that fact can easily be set aside for how breathtaking it all is. Noctis tells him to enjoy it, because he’ll set up lunch. It’s a silly little bit, absolutely cliche. A tiny picnic, complete with a blanket spread on the ground and sandwiches prepared back at the outpost and canned drinks that overflow and draw a long bout of laughter when they try to open them.

Prompto doesn’t think it can get a whole lot better. They talk about nothing at all, really, all pressed together and working on their sandwiches. It’s a relief. It feels like being kids again, like being best friends again in a more straightforward, simple way. There’s still all that love, absolutely overflowing from Prompto, almost drowning him. There’s still the kisses they steal between bites and the hands that roam a little bit under the warmth of the sun. But, more than anything else, there’s the two of them together and happy and living a life they were never allowed to have.

“Okay. You have one more gift, then we can do whatever you want. It’s kinda small, so I hope you’re not too disappointed,” there’s a certain playfulness in Noct’s voice, sparkling right through his eyes when he says this. The food has been laid to waste by now, their trusty steed happily relaxing and munching on more chocobo-friendly snacks. Noctis is making for the saddlebag that held the components of the picnic even as he says this.

“ Another ? Noct, you went totally overboard. This is already perfect,” Prompto is still sitting on the blanket, toying with some of the crumbs, sipping occasionally at the frothy remnants of his soda. Noctis has absolutely outdone himself, there’s no denying, and another gift feels almost like overkill. Not that he’s complaining. He’s happy when Noctis settles behind him again, legs spread to either side of Prompto’s, arm dipping to hold against his waist.

“I think you’re technically supposed to be standing up, but I like it this way better,” Noctis has his voice pitched low when he speaks. There’s a certain shaky quality to it, one that makes Prompto frown. He seems nervous. He feels nervous, where he’s all tense around the arm, where he’s breathing a little quick where his chest is pressed to Prompto’s back.

“Noct…” Prompto doesn’t know what to make of it, but there’s a bit of concern rising. He feels Noct’s arm tighten a little at his waist and feels a kiss press against his shoulder, keeping him firmly in place.

“And I definitely didn’t come up with a speech. Ignis usually writes those for me. He said it ‘wouldn’t be appropriate’ here, though. So you can blame him for this being so weird,” Prompto doesn’t speak this time, but he can’t say he’s much other than confused, maybe a touch of Noct’s nerves catching on him. He tilts his head just a little, tries to get a look enough at Noct’s face to read his expression. It doesn’t quite work. Noctis is speaking again, though, “so, if you don’t like this or don’t want it or whatever, that’s okay, I understand. It’s a lot, and…”

“Noct, why are you giving me a disclaimer for a birthday gift?” Prompto’s voice is giving just a little bit of alarm. He practically feels Noct wince, but there’s a hint of laughter in his chest too. He shifts and he frees his hand from Prompto’s waist. He moves it to wrap tight around Prompto’s instead, and when his other hand joins, it’s holding an exceptionally small box. Prompto’s mind is a little fuzzy, a little blank. He doesn’t make the connection until Noctis, all trembling fingers and full-body tension against him, flips the thing open to reveal a heavy gold band set at a plush center.

“I was hoping you’d maybe wanna... “ he doesn’t get the words out entirely, but the gist is there and he’s raising that held hand. His thumb brushes with a heavy amount of significance over Prompto’s ring finger.

“...for real?” Prompto is pretty sure his response is the wrong one, but he’s also pretty sure that ‘maybe you wanna’ isn’t a widely accepted proposal, either. Noctis says that he’s absolutely for real and Prompto untangles their hands so that Noct can get the ring slid on. He feels shaky, dizzy, overwhelmed. He stares for what feels like an eternity at the ring on his finger, the way it catches the light, the delicate engraving of a feather on the band. He’s trying to will away the hot, wet sensation at his eyes, but it doesn’t quite work. Noctis pulls back, just so he can turn, so he can tug Prompto into his lap and catch his gaze properly.

“Good crying or bad crying?” Noctis asks this from time to time, because it’s been a real question through the course of the past few months. Prompto’s life while he was gone, his life even before Noct was whisked away, had been difficult. There are scars that don’t show, that haven’t healed, that leave him a mess at the most inopportune moments. He’s given up, more often than not, at keeping the tears at bay. Noctis doesn’t always know where they come from- Prompto doesn’t always know himself- so asking is only fair.

“Good. Really good. I...yeah, really good,” Prompto laughs through the tears and he laughs a little at the relief obvious on Noct’s face when he draws him in, arms crushing around him, breath hot against his neck.

“Totally should’ve ordered Ignis to write me a speech,” Prompto laughs again and he pulls up for a kiss. Then another. They’re lengthy and growing longer, the sort of kisses where they part for air and find that they still haven’t had enough. The tears don’t last long, though the kisses go salty for a moment or two between. They leave their foreheads resting together when they finally part, all breathless and utterly overwhelmed.

“You know how hard this is gonna be for me top on your next birthday?” Prompto goes for the joke, because Prompto always goes for the joke. Because that is their relationship, their friendship and their love and, apparently, soon enough their marriage. The teasing feels so easy and right, the same as just about everything between them does.

“Can’t wait to see you try.”

#promptis #prompto argentum #noctis lucis caelum #final fantasy xv #fanfic #my writing

[unfolded73]

This Graceful Path (4/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.)

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapter 3 and also will accompany later chapters. Thanks to the CSBB mods (@sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 4

She hadn’t had anything to wear to a funeral.

Mary Margaret had only had one black dress in her closet (she wasn’t really the type to wear black), so Emma had gone to one of Storybrooke’s clothing shops and bought the only vaguely appropriate things she could find on such short notice: an itchy blouse which she kind of loathed, and a black blazer that didn’t really even fit her, that she had to cuff the sleeves of so that they didn’t engulf her hands.

After Graham’s burial, she and Mary Margaret returned to the apartment, collapsing onto the sofa.

“This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Mary Margaret agreed, taking her hand. They sat in silence together.

“Did I tell you what Dr. Whale said about his heart?”

“That he had a congenital heart condition? Yeah, you told me.”

Emma turned to face Mary Margaret. “That must be why he had that weird idea that his heart had been taken out of his chest, right? He must have been feeling that something was wrong with his heart. Why didn’t I insist he go to the hospital? Maybe they could have caught it and saved him—”

“You did the best you could, Emma; no one could have done any better. When someone is in denial that they’re sick, there’s not much you can do.” Mary Margaret gave Emma’s hand a comforting squeeze.

“Do you know the first thing I thought while I waited for the ambulance that night?” Emma said. “I thought that somehow Regina was responsible. He’d been so convinced for a moment that Regina had stolen his heart; like literally stolen it, and then they had this big fight and he dumped her, and that whole night was so weird that I started to have this paranoid fantasy that somehow Regina had killed him.”

“But she didn’t, Emma. He was just unwell.”

“I know.”

“Although… I mean, I know you can’t talk about the investigation of Mr. Gold’s death, but do you think Regina…”

Emma grimaced. “I thought of that. Not that I had any reason to think she killed him, other than that she’s an evil witch. But Henry was with her that night; there’s no way she could have been out murdering someone in the woods without him knowing. Besides, I don’t think she would have had the strength for that kind of stabbing. It was… vicious.”

“And Graham? I mean, if he wasn’t in his right mind, if he was under Regina’s thrall somehow…”

“You’re suggesting Graham killed Gold?” Emma let go of Mary Margaret’s hand and shifted on the sofa, sitting forward. “What possible reason would he have—”

“None, of course, but he found the body, and if he was mentally unstable like you described—”

Emma shook her head. “He was sick, and it was making him confused. That’s a long way from murdering someone. Besides, whoever did kill Gold would have gotten blood on their clothes, and I think I would have noticed if Graham had been covered in blood when I met him that night at the crime scene.”

“True.” Mary Margaret gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be trying to be an armchair detective.”

“Please, I need all the help I can get. I took this job to help Graham hand out parking tickets and, I don’t know, deal with Leroy for being drunk and disorderly. Instead, I get a murder investigation? I don’t know the first thing about investigating a murder. I’m this close to googling ‘how to investigate a murder’.”

Mary Margaret patted her arm. “You’re clever, so I’m sure you’ll figure something out. In the meantime, you should at least take it easy the rest of today.”

“No, I can’t, I’ve gotta do something, I can’t just sit around. All I do is think about the way he collapsed in front of me.” She stood up, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the sickening crack of Graham’s head connecting with the sidewalk. “It gonna be such a huge job now; I can see why Graham wanted to hire a deputy.”

“You could hire your own deputy.”

Emma rubbed her eyes, exhaustion pressing behind them. “Yeah, I might do that if I can figure out who I can trust in this town.” She glanced at her roommate. “Do you want to be a sheriff’s deputy?”

Mary Margaret laughed. “I think I’ll pass. So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to start interviewing people, establishing who had motive, who doesn’t have an alibi for the night that Gold was killed. And, much as I hate it, I guess I should start with Regina’s prime suspect.”

~*~

Killian sat across from her at the metal table in the interrogation room, looking around at the walls and at the big one-way mirror over her shoulder (not that anyone was on the other side — it was only her here now). Emma didn’t want to admit that this was the first time she’d been in this room as well. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, hoping she looked more at ease than she felt.

“I’m sorry to have to call you in here, Mr. Jones. I’m doing all of these interviews in front of a camera,” she said, gesturing at the video camera she had set up, “for your protection as well as to keep a record of your answers.”

“Not sure why you’re choosing to interview me, but all right.”

She smiled tightly. “I’m working to establish who knew Gold, how they knew him, if they saw him the day he died, things like that.”

“I knew him,” he said, holding up his index finger, “I saw him monthly when he came by my office to pick up the docking fees I collect,” — he held up a second finger — “and I think I may have seen him coming out of his pawn shop a week or two ago.” Finger number three. “Can I go now?” He leaned back in a lackadaisical pose, but his eyes told a different story. He was nervous. But then again, who wouldn’t be nervous in his position, being interviewed by law enforcement about a murder?

“Can we back up a second?” She pointed at the video camera again. “Can you state your name and occupation for the record?”

He sat up and put his hands in his lap almost primly, which made Emma feel like he was making fun of her. “Killian Jones, harbormaster, Storybrooke, Maine.”

“Thanks. Now you say you handed over the docking fees to Mr. Gold? Not to the mayor’s office?”

He shrugged. “Mr. Gold owned everything in this town, I’m sure you’ve been here long enough to learn that.”

“And that includes the harbor?”

“Aye, I suppose it does.”

That seemed odd to her, that a town’s harbor would be privately owned, but she let it go. “How would you describe your relationship with Mr. Gold?” Emma asked.

“I didn’t have a relationship with him. He showed up, I handed over a bag with money in it. We barely exchanged a half dozen words each time. That’s it.”

“There was never a time you didn’t have the money or had some dispute with him about the amount? Anything like that?”

“No.” He frowned at her. “Why would you ask that?”

“Word is that there was bad blood between the two of you. I’m trying to figure out why that was.”

“There wasn’t,” he said, his jaw clenching. “Why would anyone say there was? I’m telling you, I barely knew the guy.”

Emma watched him carefully. He seemed to be telling the truth but hiding something from her at the same time. Regina may have had her own reasons for pointing the finger at Killian, she knew that, but there was something that made Emma want to keep questioning him. She decided to change tactics.

“How did you lose your hand?” she asked, glancing down at his prosthesis where it now rested on the table.

“Sailing accident.”

“When?”

“A long time ago, lass. Long before I came to Maine.”

“And how long have you lived in Storybrooke?”

His eyes drifted up and over her shoulder like he was trying to look through the one-way mirror.

“Killian?”

He shook himself, wiping his hand over his face. “Yes?”

“How long have you lived in Storybrooke?”

“Several years.”

She was sick to death of the vague answers she got from people in this town. “How many years?”

“What does it matter?” His jaw clenched again.

“It matters if you don’t want to answer a simple question for some reason.” She huffed in frustration and decided to veer to another topic. “Do you ever walk in the woods? For a hike, maybe?”

“No.”

There, she thought. That was a lie. She could almost always tell when someone was lying if she was paying close attention, and that had definitely been a lie.

“So you weren’t in the woods last Tuesday night?”

“No.”

Another lie. “Where were you? Between, say, three p.m. and ten p.m. on Tuesday?”

“My office and then my apartment,” he answered. She could feel the jiggle of his knee bouncing under the table, and a fine sheen of sweat had appeared on his upper lip.

“Did anyone see you in your office?”

“Not really.”

“What about after that? What time did you go to your apartment?”

“I don’t know, exactly. Five o’clock or thereabouts.”

“Do you drive or walk from your office to your home?”

“It’s barely a quarter of a mile. I walk. I don’t own a car.”

“Did you see anyone on the walk?”

“No.”

“What about in your apartment building. Did you see any neighbors? Any friends stop by?”

“No.”

“Call anyone on the phone? Use your computer? Watch Netflix? Play a video game?”

He threw up his hand in frustration. “No, but why does it matter?”

“Because if you were logged into some kind of account like that, it would help establish your alibi.”

“Why do I need an alibi for the stabbing of a man I barely knew?”

Emma’s heartbeat accelerated, and she tried her best to school her expression into neutral territory. “How did you know it was a stabbing?”

“I read it in the paper,” he said, his fingers drumming on the table.

“We didn’t release that it was a stabbing, Mr. Jones.”

“Well, I heard it somewhere! I don’t know!” He was very agitated now, spots of color high on his cheeks, sweat on his forehead. Had Regina been right? Had she caught the killer already?

“Where did you hear it, then?” It was possible that the information had gotten out via Dr. Whale or one of the paramedics who had handled the body, but if so she should be able to trace it back to them.

“I don’t remember!” Killian shouted. He seemed to fold in on himself, his face getting suddenly pale. “Saw the Crocodile. Know him anywhere,” he muttered.

“The what?” First wolves, now crocodiles?

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.” His eyes were unfocused, almost like he had forgotten she was sitting in front of him. It reminded her eerily of the way Graham had behaved when he was convinced his heart was missing.

“Mr. Jones,” she said in a loud, clear voice. His eyes seemed to swim back to her from a long way away. “I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” she murmured, softening her tone. “I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me. Now, I’m asking again. Were you in the woods on Tuesday?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“I went for a walk, like you said. And I saw…”

She waited several seconds before prodding him. “Saw what?”

“I saw the Crocodile.”

“What’s the crocodile?”

He shook his head as if to clear it. “I saw Mr. Gold. He was already dead. I swear to you, I didn’t harm him.”

Emma studied him. That appeared to be the truth. “Why didn’t you call the police?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t feeling well, and I ran. And later I thought… Honestly, I thought I imagined it.”

“Do you know what time it was when you saw Gold?”

He shook his head. “Maybe around four o’clock? I don’t know for sure.”

“So you were out for a walk in all of those miles and miles of woods, and you happened to come across a dead body that was a half mile off the hiking trail?” Just as Graham had happened to come across it, chasing after some wolf. How busy were those woods that day?

“I guess so,” he answered. “Miss Swan, I swear it, I didn’t kill anyone. Why would I?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. Again, he seemed to be telling the truth, but the circumstances were certainly suspicious. “I’m going to need to search your office and your apartment. If you’re really innocent, then you won’t have anything to hide, right?”

Nothing in his demeanor indicated any fear at that prospect. Still, she wanted to do it now, before he had a chance to get rid of any evidence. “I assume you walked here to the station?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She stood up from her chair. “Then you won’t mind riding with me. Come on.”

Leaving him for a moment in the main part of the station, she stopped by the supply closet to pick up the bag of evidence kits she’d tossed back in there the night of the murder. She scanned the shelves again. The other thing she’d learned (because as it turned out, googling ‘how to investigate a murder’ had been really pretty useful) was that luminol would have come in handy for looking for blood traces, even blood that had been pretty thoroughly cleaned up, but the sheriff’s department of Storybrooke didn’t seem to have any. She’d ordered some, but fat lot of good that did her now.

The car ride over to the harbor was quiet. Killian unlocked the harbormaster’s office for her, gesturing and giving her a shallow bow to indicate she should precede him into the office.

His office was really just a small room that was part of a building where it looked like boats could be brought in and repaired. It was neat and organized, with a shelf full of logbooks behind a simple metal desk. The desk itself was dominated by a large radio which she assumed was used to communicate with ships out on the water. Other than that, the only other things she saw were a pen cup, a stapler, and a travel coffee mug.

“Where do you keep the money you were talking about?”

He thumbed through his key ring and unlocked a desk drawer, showing her the blue vinyl zipper bag. In it was a mixture of cash and checks, with the pink copies of some old fashioned carbon-copy receipts. She spied a receipt book on the shelf and pulled it down to see that it was filled with matching originals, filled out in what must have been Killian’s neat penmanship.

She looked around a little longer, but there was really nothing else to see. There were no personal items: no pictures, no cards, no nothing. It was a depressingly spartan place to spend time.

“Okay, let’s go on to your apartment, then.”

After another short, silent car ride, they got out at a small duplex building near the beach.

“Who lives on the other side?” she asked as he unlocked his door.

“Guy by the name of Billy; he works down at the auto repair place in town.” Once again, he politely ushered her through the door. “Good neighbor; he’s quiet as a mouse.”

“That’s lucky,” she said, looking around his small living space. Like the office, it was tidy and spare. He had a small kitchen that was open to the living area, and then a short hallway that presumably led to a bedroom and bathroom. From his main window, she could see the ocean. “Does it cost a lot to live down here by the beach?”

He shrugged. “It’s a little more, but the apartment is tiny so it balances out. I like being near the water; I find it calming.”

“Fan of boats, are you?” The only decoration in the room was a framed charcoal drawing of a tall sailing vessel, the sails unfurled and full as it was tossed about on a choppy sea.

“Ships,” he corrected. “And yes.”

She headed back toward the bedroom. Other than a discarded t-shirt on the floor, it too was clean. A few books were stacked on the bedside table, and the bed was neatly made. There was a laundry hamper half-filled with clothes, and she pulled a pair of nitrile gloves out of her bag and put them on before starting to sift through it. Killian watched her. “Was Gold your landlord?” she asked.

He nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Sure, like everyone else in town. Wasn’t he yours?”

Emma stopped, thinking about that. “I guess; I just moved in a couple of weeks ago. I give my share of the money to my roommate and she takes care of paying the rent. Did you ever have any kind of contact with him about the rent, or this apartment?”

Killian shook his head. “I rented it through the broker in town, and I mail my rent to a post office box. There have been a few maintenance issues, but I take care of them myself.”

Emma looked at each item of clothing, blushing faintly at the fact that she was rifling through a strange man’s underwear. She dropped each item on the floor as she examined it.

“May I ask why the fascination with my unmentionables?” Killian asked, a small smirk on his face.

“It’s not your… unmentionables in particular,” she said as she dropped a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. “I’m checking for blood on any of your clothes.”

“You think my master plan was to murder Gold, and then put the bloody evidence in my laundry hamper?”

“I don’t know; people have done stupider things.” She looked in each drawer, rifling the clothes, remembering the fact that Whale had written ‘short sword or dagger’ on the medical examiner’s report. Same story with the bathroom, the closet, the kitchen. She even checked the air vents and stomped around looking for a loose floorboard. No luck. If he’d hidden a sword somewhere, it wasn’t in his apartment.

“So, do I pass inspection?” he asked as her search wound down. “And more importantly, can I offer you a drink?” He held up a bottle of brown rum and a short glass, grinning at her in a way that she was sure most women found charming.

“I’m on duty,” she said with an eye roll, running her gloved hand along the back of the ship picture frame.

“After what happened to Sheriff Humbert, you must be working long hours. Surely you can knock off a little early today, having so thoroughly pumped me for information.” His tongue darted out and ran along his bottom lip.

“Gross,” she said, making another circuit of the apartment. “I don’t drink with murder suspects; it’s kind of a hard and fast rule of mine.”

“Surely I’m not still a suspect anymore; you’ve found nothing to implicate me.” He hooked his thumb in his belt, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Whatever had come over him during the interrogation, he seemed perfectly fine now.

She raised an eyebrow at him. Admittedly, the drink was tempting, as was the man. Which was exactly why she shouldn’t get anywhere near either. “Don’t get too cocky; I haven’t ruled you out.”

~*~

The Thanksgiving holiday intervened to take Emma’s mind off the murder case for a few days, leaving her free to fret over the fact that she was spending the holiday without Henry. She imagined him shut up inside that big house with no one but Regina for company for four days, imagined the two of them at either end of a giant table laden down with a huge Thanksgiving feast, eating silently. Emma at least had the boundless optimism and perfectly roasted turkey of Mary Margaret, and as she sat sipping from a glass of port and nibbling on a piece of store-bought pecan pie, she had to admit that this may have been her best Thanksgiving dinner ever.

On Monday she was finally able to see Henry again, resuming their semi-regular afternoon meetups at Granny’s after the end of his school day, before Regina expected him home.

“Did you have a good Thanksgiving?” she asked.

Henry shrugged. “It was okay. Mom let me stay up late and watch a movie, so that was cool.”

Emma felt a stab of jealousy in her gut. She wanted to be the one to let him stay up late, it occurred to her suddenly. She wanted to be able to sit with him and watch a movie. She wanted to be the one he meant when he said ‘mom.’

Henry was fiddling with the sugar dispenser, and he knocked it over, spilling sugar onto the table. Emma sighed, sweeping the sugar up and into her saucer.

“Sorry,” Henry said.

“No worries.”

The door to the diner rattled and she glanced up, seeing Killian Jones walking in. It was a bitterly cold day outside, but he only wore his simple leather jacket.

When he spotted her, his face lit up with a smile and he walked over to their booth. “Hello, Swan. Hello, Henry.”

Awfully friendly for someone I interrogated last week, she thought. And also—

“Wait,” she said. “You two know each other?”

Killian looked slightly sheepish. “Aye, I met Master Mills last summer. We don’t have an open library here in town, so with his mother’s— er, the mayor’s permission, I lent him some books.”

She did remember the set of bookshelves in his apartment that had been packed with books. She’d looked behind every one in her search for a murder weapon.

“Also, Killian taught me to tie some knots. He’s going to teach me to sail when I get bigger.”

“Is he now?” Emma looked back and forth between the two of them. “And Regina’s okay with this?”

Now it was Henry’s turn to look sheepish. “There’s no point in asking her until I have to,” he said.

“I would never take the lad out on the water without your and Mayor Mills’ permission, of course,” Killian hastened to add. “It’s just an idea I had since Henry seemed interested.”

Emma appreciated his inclusion of her in the decision-making process, but she really didn’t have any standing to offer permission as to whether Henry should take sailing lessons or not.

“Your order’s up, Killian,” Ruby called.

“Good afternoon to you both,” he said before leaving them to go pay at the register.

“What do you think of Killian?” Emma asked when he was out of earshot.

“Why, are you going to go out with him?” Henry asked.

“What? No!” She felt her cheeks flush. “He’s a little strange, that’s all.”

“I think he’s nice. He’s one of the few adults around here that talks to me like I’m a person.”

Emma turned around in her booth and watched him leave the diner.

“He’s Captain Hook, I think. I mean, he’s not in the storybook so I don’t know for sure, but that’s my best guess,” Henry said.

Emma swung back around and stared at him. “Killian is Captain Hook? Why, because of his hand?”

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t have a hook, you know. Just a prosthetic hand,” she pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but that’s because of the curse.”

“Wouldn’t that make him the bad guy? You said he was nice.”

“I don’t know, I always thought Peter Pan was kind of creepy. Maybe the bad guy in Neverland isn’t who you think it is.”

~*~

“I can’t help but notice that Killian Jones is still walking around, free as a bird,” Regina announced as she marched into the sheriff’s station. The two of them hadn’t spoken since Graham’s death almost two weeks ago. Emma wondered if Regina had cared enough for him to even grieve.

Sighing, she put her pen down. “If you’re referring to the investigation into Gold’s death, I did question him. I also searched his office and his apartment. There was no evidence that he had anything to do with the murder, so of course, he was free to go at the end of it.”

Regina’s mouth pinched, highlighting a thin scar perpendicular to her severe lipstick line. “Not good enough.”

“He didn’t even seem to know Gold that well; he certainly didn’t have any kind of dark feud with him like you implied.”

“He’s lying,” Regina said through clenched teeth.

“I don’t think he is.” Emma thought about Killian’s initial lie that he’d been in the woods and seen the body, but she elected not to share that with Regina. That alone didn’t make him guilty. And when he flat out said he hadn’t killed Gold, she got no sense from him that that was untrue.

“You aren’t the sheriff, you know,” Regina said. “There will be a new election, and the townspeople get to select a new sheriff to succeed Graham. If you think that’s going to be you, an outsider with a criminal history, then you’re in for a rude awakening. Good day, Miss Swan.” With that, she stalked back out of the station.

Chapter 5

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan ff #this graceful path fic #cs s1 au #my fic

[ladieslovingladiesandfics]

La Belle et la Sorcière

Anonymous asked: Okay since literally NO ONE writes for Disney Descendants, do you think you can do a Mal x Ben/Chad's sister fic. It doesn't have to be either of the princes, but I kinda like the idea of this high class royal kid falling in love with this high class evil kid

Descendants Anonymous here, I would prefer the reader to be Ben'a sister tbh

Hi, this is the descendants anon. I don't know if you saw the second part of the request I sent or if I even sent it, but i would like it to be a general princess x Mal (she doesn't have to be evil, but whatever works best for your writing is great)

Ma dude, my darling, you have awoken something within me. I am a huge fairytale nerd and you can bet your fucking ass I will use my knowledge to the best of my ability to do this. I am 10000000% ready for this shit oh my god. I also watched Pete’s Dragon before writing so yeh...hahaha.

Big shout out to my friend Roxy (I think she has a tumblr I forget what it’s called haha, whoops sorry) for helping me out. She’s Canadian and speaks French. The title translates to, ‘The Beauty and the Witch’ since like...Beauty and the Beast and Sleeping Beauty both have French origins. So thanks so much for help me out darling! *blows kisses*

And thank you very much for the compliment darling! Anyway, here we go~!

Warnings: Uh....fluff? Dragons. This thing is long as fuck holy shit. And this sucks.

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You were like Ben…and yet you were not. Yes you two had the same parents and you two are siblings, yada yada all that mumbo jumbo, but your eyes were set on a different path. You adored magic, and all sort of magical creatures. Yes you were a princess and next in line to become the possible queen of Auradon and all, but your love was for the magic of the world and nature most of all. You would study forbidden magical texts without the knowledge of your parents, much to the chagrin of Ben.

It all changed one day when you found a little dragon hatchling, abandoned in the forests of Auradon, half dead and with a wound on its forehead. You couldn’t help but feel sorry, and decided to take care of it. You named it Éclair, as when the scar healed, it looked like a lightning bolt. Every day you returned to the forest where Éclair lived, tossing it some food you saved from the lunch at the cafeteria. Éclair was a dark colored dragon, its hide was colored like soot save for the pearly white scar and its yellow eyes. Éclair was a friendly thingy, mostly. You wanted to show it off to Ben but…would he be happy about it?

None the less, Éclair was your little secret. That is…until the villain kids came from the Isle of the Lost.

“Éclair! Éclair!” Your hands cupped your mouth, calling out for your dragonic friend. You whistled sharply thrice, a signal between the two of you. There was a rustle of the trees and a beat of wings, a gush of air that nearly toppled you over. Down came Éclair from the skies above, landing in the safety of the trees that hide it from prying eyes. The beast lowered its massive head, purring softly and happily.

You clutched the strap of the knapsack you had, laughing at how big the hatchling as grown over the past two years that you have known it. You open the pouch, pulling out your sandwich in a container and a larger plastic bag. “I snuck out of class today,” you admitted to Éclair, opening the plastic covered bag. Inside were turkey legs, which you had stolen from the cafeteria…thanks to using that little magical spell you learnt from Jane. “Ugh, it was boring.” You sit down on a boulder, putting the sandwich container on your lap as you pulled out a turkey leg, tossing it over to the dragon who expertly caught it into its mouth. “I like being out here with you. I like being a princess and all but…it’s just not what I want to be you know?”

Éclair and you have had this conversation many times. You often came out to snuggle with the dragon in the dark of night, a flashlight in your hand a book in your lap as you told Éclair about what you wanted to do with your life: to travel, see the world, and learn more about it. All of a sudden, the onyx head of Éclair perked up, glaring into the brush. It began to growl, its tail wrapping around you and the boulder you sat upon, loosely…but protectively. “E-Éclair?” “Wow.” You nearly dropped the turkey leg you were holding, you recognized that voice. “So this is where the brave little princess of Auradon, the light of this entire country, Y/N sneaks off to?” a familiar head of purple appeared out of the emerald brush, a smirk upon her lips, and her hands upon her lips. She glanced over to the dragon, quirking an eyebrow but definitely not afraid of the thing whatsoever. She jerked her thumb at Éclair, “Friend of yours?” You clear your throat, tossing the leg over to Éclair who snapped it up. Its beady sunny yellow eyes were still trained upon Mal, snarling every now and then. You put your things to the side, sliding of off the boulder, and dusting your hands on your skirt; you then clear your throat, holding you head up high, proudly. “Yes. This is my friend, Éclair. What are you doing here, Mal? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Ha!” Mal scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Hey, if you,” she pointed at you accusingly, “Can skip class, why can’t I?”

“Because education is important.” You retort back, turning on your heels to face Éclair instead.

“Gee. If it’s so important, why the hell aren’t you studying?” Mal didn’t try to come closer, especially when Éclair wound its tail around your position so protectively. “Miss Princess? Get off your high horse, Y/N. Don’t boss me around.”

“I could if I wanted to. As the princess of this land. And,” you turn around sharply, now reaching up to gently pat Éclair’s snout. “I’m the girl who has a dragon friend.”

“Oh right. I’m soooo scared. I’m quaking in my boots.” Mal scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Bitch please, I could poof your dragon friend here and you’d be all defenseless.” She quickly ducked under the swipe of a claw, courtesy of Éclair.

“Éclair! No!” You scolded your friend, patting its tail. “Don’t do that.”

“The thing is…you can’t kill me, or hurt me.” Mal taunted, dusting the imaginary dust off of her clothes. “You’re too soft.”

You glare at her, rolling up the sleeves of your jacket, and stepped over Éclair’s tail. “You wanna see how soft I am?” Éclair seemed to chuckle in the background, seemingly ready for such a throw down to occur.

“Hey hey, I’m not here to fight.” Mal said, holding up her hands to announce her surrender. “I could zap you with magic but I’d be executed if I tried to hurt you. So…how about this?” she backed away, and then drew a line in the dirt with her foot. “You stay on that side of the forest with your dragon friend, I’ll stay on mine.” She said with a smirk and a quirk of her eyebrow. “Deal, little princess?”

“Deal.” You huff, turning back to Éclair and marching back over to the dragon. You hop back up on the boulder again, tossing Éclair the remaining turkey legs before going to eat your own sandwich. Mal merely stayed on her side of the forest, watching you two carefully. She sat on a log, keeping to herself.

“How long have two known one another?” Mal asked suddenly, both of your heads snapping over to look at her. “You two are comfortable around each other, so it’s obvious you two have known each other for a long time.”

“Two years.” You answer, after swallowing a bite of your sandwich.

Gurglegurglegurgle

You glance up at Éclair, quirking an eyebrow and gently poking its dark snout. “Are you still hungry? I mean…yeah you do need to eat and all. You just came back from hunting right? I mean there’s still blood on your teeth and all. But-“ who else could it be? You glance over to Mal, who had a light pink blush upon her cheeks. “Are…are you hungry Mal?” you asked, snickering.

“A bit yeah. I left before lunch. I am kinda hungry.” Mal answered with a shrug of her shoulders. “Don’t worry about it princess, I’m not gonna mooch off of you or-“ “Do you want cookies?”

Mal’s head snapped over towards you, staring at you curiously. “Not…poisonous cookies?”

“Nah.” You answer, pulling the Tupperware of cookies out of your knapsack. “Mom made them.” You slid off of the boulder again, walking over to the line and held out the box. “You can have some…if you want.”

Mal got off of the log, slowly walking to the line and picked up at least five cookies. “Thanks.” She said, beginning to nibble on them. Her eyes lit up, staring at the cookies. “Whoa, these are good.”

“Yeah they are. I bet they’re the best in all the land.” You proudly say.

Mal only laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yeah yeah, whatever.” She says, turning on her heels and beginning to head back up the trail. “I’ll see you around, princess Y/N. Thanks for the cookies.” And before she took another step, she turned and said, “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret.”

The two of you had this strange dance, which was honestly kept alive for weeks. Mal and you would meet up in the forest with Éclair and still stay on the same sides you had made earlier. It was a strange little friendship, but you two got closer. Bit by bit. Little by little. You told Mal of your dream to travel and to learn more about the world, and you listened about the times Mal had caused a ruckus back on the Isle of the Lost. The two of you didn’t have many classes together but you two were sometimes find one another in the library.

Mal would find you in the darkest corners, hiding in a nook and reading about dragons. At first, she would just say ‘Hey’ and pass by, but lately she would sit beside you and you two would talk about the future and classes…and anything really.

Mal was cute, you could not help but think. She had a cute smile and it was endearing to see.

But lately…Mal had been avoiding you. She wasn’t coming into the forest that much to hang with you and Éclair, and even the dragon seemed to miss her presence. One day, while in the library, you noticed Mal walking by the shelves. Your feet were silent across the carpet, and you roughly grabbed Mal by the back of her jacket and pulled her into the comfy little nook you two often shared.

“GET THE FU- Y/N?” Mal stared at you in shock, quickly breaking away from you like you were the plague. “The hell was that for?!” “Why the shit are you avoiding me?” you demanded, hands on your hips. “As the princess, I demand you to answer this Mal. Is something bothering you? Did I….offend you?”

Mal opened her mouth for a minute and then shut it, staring down at her hands. “You kinda did offend me.”

“Shit what?! I did?! Holy shit, I’m so sorry! What did I do?! I’m so sorry, tell me what did I do and I promise not to do it again and-“

“You offend me because you’re too damn cute.”

“I- what…?” it was your turn to go silent, feeling your cheeks beginning to burn hotly. “Huh?” “I like you, princess.” Mal said, her voice small. She turned on her heels, ready to leave when you grabbed her by the back of her jacket again. “DAMN IT Y/N STOP TRYING TO CHO-“ you turn her around and slam your lips on to hers, causing Mal to go limp in your arms, before returning the gesture happily. Mal began to slowly push you into the wall, trapping you between them.

When the kiss ended, Mal happily smiled, resting her forehead against yours. “Wow.” “I wanted to do that for a while now.” You admit, giggling happily.

“Yeah…me too.” Mal admits, lips just an inch away from yours. “Can we…ki-“

“Y/N, are you- OH MY GOD!” Ben stared at the two of you, dropping his books and his mouth wide open like a gold fish.

“B-BEN! It’s not what it looks like!” “Yeah we’re kissing, what are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

“ASDFGHJKL, THIS IS WHY YOU WERE SNEAKING AROUND?!”

“WILL YOU KIDS SHUT UP, YOU’RE IN A LIBRARY!”

“….Sorry ma’am.”

#disneys descendants imagines #descendants imagine #mal x reader #ALL DA QUEUE-TIES

[bianca-warriorwriter]

That’s got to hurt - part 10 - S.M

part 9 here

back to Elle’s POV

Part 10: Back to Elle’s

I dreamt of a place that was surrounded in darkness but tainted with love. With screams filled with agony and joy. Where my body was held down, where things flew against my body, sometime things being thrown against me, where hands pulled at my body I guess I’d never know what those hands were ripping at. I was seated in a painfully hard chair, chains wrapped around my torso, ropes tied around my ankles and wrists my eyes blind folded however I was able to see out of the bottom of it. Things were thrown at me, that would cut at my cheeks and face. I never saw who threw the items. But when they would step out of the shadows I would scream in fear, knowing that when someone shows you their face in horror movies you shouldn’t expect to leave. As I opened my mouth to scream nothing came out. I would try though. I didn’t wake up this time. I watched as he stepped out of the shadows, dressed in formal pants and a red shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He had a scar under his left eye, and I had the matching scar on my right and when he drew his right arm up to leave his neck mark, I flinched awake.

 A hand tightened around mine. Held it tight to a warm chest, that rose calmly with each breath. The heart beat a constant reminder of safety. I moved in closer to the body that seemed like such a tether to this world I wanted to bolt myself to them. I caught my breath when it moved. They turned on their side to me, I still wasn’t looking up however. But the texture of the body felt the same as if I had my hand up it before. I felt as the body moved forward and softly kissed my forehead. I knew who it was. It was as if that simple kiss had cleared away and unlocked all the locks that were keeping things sealed away in my brain. I squeezed his hand tight and I could feel tears running down my face. I knew it wasn’t because I was sad it was because I was so happy to be alive. he didn’t say much as he wrapped one arm around me and continued to hold my hand.

“it’s okay, Elle. You’re okay” he rubbed circles on my back and just repeated that as my sobs filled the room. eventually when my sobs ceased he leant back and looked down at me.

“you smell” I said trying to lift the mood. He laughed and then so did i.

“well that’s what happens when I’ve been here for 4 days.” He said smiling down at me.

“you stayed here for 4 days?” I smiled.

“I left once, and didn’t leave again” he used his one arm to pull me closer to his chest.

“can we go home?” I asked onto his chest.

“I-I can try, let me go ask” he slowly tried getting up. But literally fell off the bed and just laid across the floor. I was laughing so hard, I couldn’t breathe and he just laid their laughing with an amused expression.

He got up and went to the door. And returned 5 minutes later with a doctor. The doctor did the usual test one would do to check their patients.

“she seems okay, but she has been asleep for 4 days and is lucky to be alive. but I want her to stay overnight just to check for any changes in her condition” the doctor said surely. I opened my mouth to argue that I was fine and felt fine. “please don’t argue with me” he then turned and walked out.

“one more day here won’t hurt you” Shawn said sitting on the end of the bed.

“you never know” I leant forward and kissed him. It wasn’t a soft delicate kiss. It was I need this right now, I need to feel you on me. He greedily delivered what I needed. One of his hands went to the side of my face, the other leant me back down against the pillows and held him up over me. One of my hands went to the back off his neck and the other to the usual place in his hair. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him down, until his body lay across mine and he was using his elbow to keep him up. He broke the kiss away from my lips and started warm familiar kisses from my lips to my cheek, to my jaw, to my ear and finally down my neck to my collarbone. Where he bit, licked and sucked on the skin. Trying to be quiet is a hard thing to achieve in a hospital when someone is doing this. I breathed out his name lustfully. I pulled his head back up to my lips where I resumed dominance in this game of need. It was my turn to break the kiss and make him make some sound.

“I missed you” I whispered in his ear and then bit the bottom of it softly. He lifted me up with his hand and sat up on the bed with me still in them I groaned in pain.

“oh, was that me?” he asked concerned.

“it’s fine just the stitching I assume” I ignored it and started kissing his neck as he groaned at the feel of it.

“okay enough for now, otherwise this hospital is not going to be so friendly anymore.” He said moving his neck away from me. I groaned in response. When did I become so needy?

“just learn to be quiet then” I said and pulled his hair where he bit his lip to stop any sound.

“I will not have our first time in a place where I can’t hear you moan my name” he said into my ear. And then he ran his hand ever so lightly across my back causing me to shiver.

“you are insufferable” I said onto his lips.

“I know” he smiled, pecked my lips and got up.

“where are you going?” I said moving to the side of the bed.

“for a walk, you coming?” his hand was already on the handle. It had just occurred to me that he was in track suite pants and a long sleeve shirt with a jumper on. “or do you want to get changed, I even brought your muffin socks” he smiled.

“can I do both?” I said laughing.

 Soon I was wearing too big track suit pants that were tightly tide so they wouldn’t fall and folded up at bottom of them so I wouldn’t trip. And a t-shirt, Shawn had great fully handed his jumper over. I even wore the muffin socks. We walked the halls off the hospital one of his arms wrapped around my shoulders and my arm wrapped around his waist. We talked about anything and everything. Sometimes nothing at all.

The next day when I was ready to go, it began to pour down rain.

“alright you ready?” Shawn said holding onto the bag of clothes. And his guitar.

“I can carry your guitar” I walked over to him and went to grab it.

“promise to be very careful with her” he said holding It away.

“feel like you care more about her then me” I said reaching for it.

“promise” his voice serious

“yes, I promise” he regretfully handed me the guitar. “god you look like I’ve stolen a baby” I said walking away with it. A strangled sound came out of his throat. “my god” I said walking out of the room making a big deal as I put it before me making sure it wouldn’t hit the walls.

I was laughing about it as I reached the entrance and my smile dropped. Paparazzi filled the entrance.

“um where’s the car?” I swallowed.

“uh right there” he pointed to just behind them. “I’ll be right back” he grabbed the guitar and walked out of the hospital and gained their attention straight away as he shoved them away from him. Still protecting his guitar though which made me laugh in all honesty. I understood what he was doing he was putting the stuff away so when he came back he could shield me. When he finally made it back he was drenched. I pulled his jacket closer around me and pulled the hoodie up.

“alright we are going to run to the car okay?” he said into my ear and I nodded back. “okay in 3…2…1” we ran.

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