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smolvenger · 2 months

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My Lord (Prince Hal x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After you dance with another man, Prince Hal, your royal intended has a confession to make...

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ (fingering, p in v sex, doing it on a desk), historical inaccuracies for the sake of vibes, grammar and spelling mistakes, angst and fluff.

Dick-tionary: Smut starts at “Kiss me again, my dove,” and ends at "You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle. "

Word Count: 3K

A/N: From @muddyorbsblr's request! It ended up being longer, oops. But enjoy!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Despite your fine dress and the rich wine flowing, you felt somber at your betrothal ball. Not that the ball itself was a sad event. No, you were not merry from everything around you. It was all merry with the throne room decorated with flowers and jigs being played by the musicians. Your melancholy was due to your intended.

Of all the good lords and gentlemen on this green isle, only one was destined to be the next king. And that was who you were going to marry. Your parents were thrilled when the king agreed to the marriage. They smiled and embraced you as an artist hugged their painting. They managed to sell you to the highest bidder.

His Majesty Prince Henry the Fourth of Lancaster. The highest bidder indeed.

Or Hal, as the taverns ruffians called him. Hal. Riotous, dishonorable, pranking, thieving, tavern hopping, wench chasing, sack drinking Hal. Beautiful, princely, decadent Hal. Every time his brothers had to tell their father the truth of Hal’s layabouts…the king would turn red with fury. Not that you were surprised.

Even if the scoundrel you were going to call your husband had been kind to you these past few months. He would be by your side. And trying to win you over or get you to smile. Flirt with you- he did to hundreds of women at this point! No doubt! Your inner giddiness was mixed with a silent rage and you weren’t sure which would pop out first each time he got your hand and kissed it gently. Hal was beautiful. A handsome, handsome man who wore his doublets tight on his lean frame and walked with a swagger, his auburn curls freed about his head. There was a charm to his manner, and feelings were in you when you looked at him. Feelings you didn’t like. Feelings you didn’t dare name.

For that, you remained polite. Never forward. Nice, but nothing more. For what else could you do? The world of court could be deadly and dangerous. The world’s eyes were on you. You couldn’t afford to make a reckless move.

Despite the garden walks and meals, there was that sliver of distrust. If you didn’t see him, he could be on the floor of the filthiest bar in Eastcheap passed out on the floor from drink. Or in a room with two tavern women in positions that would make a sailor blush.

And the last picture of him in bed with other women- it made you want to scream and sob and throw your goblet at the wall until it smashed into a hundred bits and then pick your skirts, march to the other end of the room, and slap him hard across his beautiful face.

You took a deep breath.

It was just your imagination. Nothing actually happened. One inhale, then another exhale. The walls were grey stone, the candlelight yellow, and the music from a flute was playing something fast.

Why were you like this, you had to remind yourself! You didn’t like him! Why should that matter? You had to remember how much you didn’t care and didn’t like him.

He could have every woman in England on their knees for him every night and you would not care. You would go about your merry way and when you didn’t have to squeeze out a son, you would enjoy the monetary benefits of servants, fine dresses, horses, gold, jewels, money to buy whatever thing you wanted, and the freedom to do as you pleased as queen.

You held your chin up. Only glad it was a lovely party. All were taking gentle sips of wine, sampling the roast boar, listening to lutes, and laughing over nothing. You felt like doing none. In a whole crowd of people, you felt alone, isolated, and cut off. Like a foreigner trying to make a friend but never knowing how to speak the language. They gathered and talked…and here you were. The most wanted and yet also the most unwanted.

Taking a deep breath, you continued to walk in to try to get your mind off of things.

There were dances as well. But you felt as if your soles were made of lead. For all were celebrating your marriage to this scoundrel.

This beautiful, delectable, leather-clad scoundrel. Looking at him across the room, something inside you churned. And you were frightened to name it.

He was in the corner, talking to his brothers. You turned your eyes down. For the party was in swing and in a way, as if they forgot you were its purpose. They wanted to laugh and gossip and drink. Forget their worldly cares and be merry.

You brought your eyes up to search for him. Your heart beat a little harder seeing Prince Hal at the other end of the room. How delicious he looked. His tight leather jacket was the color of the wine. He preferred rougher, bawdier parties- that was why he was frowning as his father went up to talk to him. And here you were, just to be tolerated as his bride. It seemed queenhood was a lifetime away, as was your marriage. For all of this fuss over you both being joined, you couldn’t help but feel separated.

Taking a deep breath, you put both hands on your cup and took another sip, resisting the urge to gulp down your wine and let the alcohol take its effect.

As you walked in, the Lord of Warwick went up.

“My lady- here is my nephew, Thomas! He’s going to appear at Court more often!” the lord introduced.

You curtsied and gave a smile.

The Lord of Warwick’s nephew with his own blonde hair and blue eyes and skin that tanned. He was a polite, warm friendly boy. For having just met him, he left a good impression on you. The uncle even stepped aside to let you talk. Then Thomas held out a hand.

“They’re having dances. Would you give me a dance, my lady?”

“I would love to,” you replied.

You enjoyed his company as you danced. He was very good too- Hal himself had no “strength in measure” and was inches from always stepping on your toes the grand total of two times you danced. Passing between couples, joining, parting, and reasoning hands to the lute music. You felt at peace.

Little did you know Hal’s eyes were on you.

They were on you every time you the whole evening.

Prince Hal scowled. He was practically red with anger. The second the dance ended, he marched up to you. Thomas looked sickly pale and you felt your stomach drop. You never saw Hal himself have any anger and part of you was terrified. They always say it’s the ones who are never angry you watch out for.

“My lord, what is the matter?” you asked after your curtsey.

“I would like to speak with my lady intended,” Hal ordered.

Thomas handed you over quickly.

Amidst the ball, Hal grabbed your arm. Fie, his hand- large, beautiful hands taking a whole of your arm and dragging you to the hallways and through a door. Jesu, was he going to hurt you? Hal never once did anything that would harm you. He seemed too mischievous and cheerful to seem capable of raising his hand to a woman, much less you. There was a fierceness on his fast that made your heart race. You didn’t know if you were feeling lust, terror, or both at once.

The room was a study. The night sky shone outside, though there were lights from the torches and candles. None were inside-perhaps at the party. With tall bookshelves and desks, it would have been a comforting room had your heart been beating wildly against your ribs.

He looked at you up and down. He saw your dress, how it formed you well, and hugged you in the right places. A warmth flushed over you, and you realized you were panting a little to deepen your breaths. But his face was still angry. Beautifully, beautifully angry.

“What, what is the matter?” you asked. Hoping to get this over with quickly.

“Quite a bit, that is the matter!” Hal replied, ruffling his curly hair.

You gestured at the door.

“My lord, they will notice we are gone. We have a party to attend to…”

Hal reached up a hand that he held in the air. You looked back at him. His voice remained soft, matter of fact, right to the bone.

“My lady, we have to discuss young Warwick. The way you were dancing at him, smiling at him.”

“Oh, him!” you said. You had deduced it. He just had to say it himself.

“Yes! The look he was giving you like he would be falling before your feet any minute! Your smile at him! And you were encouraging him, and I-”

“Are you jealous, Harry?” you interrupted, blurting out the obvious.

He turned a little pink.

“Yes, well- what if I am? Should I not be if a gentleman dances with my lady?”

“A lady can rarely turn down another man. My mother told me it is impolite to refuse a man’s offer to dance!” you reasoned.

Hal leaned closer to you.

“You have promised yourself to me, not him! You’re engaged to me!”

He paused and his mouth hung in mid-air. You saw his eyes were shining bright, he was…on the brink of tears. The jolliest scoundrel in all of England and…he was crying. When you imagined him with other women earlier…was that the very feeling he was having as well?

You closed the distance to him, you offered your hand and he took it.

“Hal, I am sorry. I didn’t think you would be upset or even care that I danced with him…” you consoled.

He brought up a hand and wiped a tear off with his palm.

“I forgive you, my lady. Only….That the way you were beaming at him, and not at me, I…I don’t even have words for it and- YN- it makes me angry because…because…I wish it were me you were smiling at…me and only me. That one smile. Then I’d know for sure that you’d love me and we could be find a way to-”

You gasped.

“What did you say?!”

Your face was closer to his, your voice even softer. He paused. His tears stopped.

“You…you love me?”

He flushed, hung his head low, and then back up.

“I do, my sweeting. I love you so much. I don’t know how else to say it or what speeches or things to give. If I am under your spell, I never wish to be out of it. I don’t ask you to love me back at all…I only ask you…you… pity me.”

His face was right before words. Your own mouth began to speak of its own accord. The music was softer, and distant, as if the ball was a world away.

“Hal…even with everything in Eastcheap, I…I… I…I cannot help but…but want to see you, and speak to you, I think of you and wonder what you are doing when you’re away. And I…I worry about you. I want you happy- more than happy, safe.”

He closed the distance and kissed you. The first kiss you ever had other than chaste pecks on the hand. You shuddered at it as he wrapped his hands around you, one hand crawling up your back. He knew his way around a woman’s body. And he knew what would make your knees tremble. You melted into his arms, collapsing into the kiss, into the embrace. He tasted of wine, of freedom.

He let go. But it was as if something awoke that was long asleep. You let him keep his hands on you, to feel your body beneath your dress—one on your hip, fingers inches away from the most private, precious of places on you. You kept on babbling despite yourself.

“All the battles your father sends you on and… and…I was worried, worried you would die…worried something would happen to you- and then, the Eastcheap visits….I was worried…worried you and Doll would.”

“There were no whores. Not since we’ve met,” he replied.

You kissed him again, and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms to feel his back. Dizzy and drink on him. You heard his moan.

He leaned back on a chair and had you straddle him. You gasped, feeling your legs come apart. Places between you were starting to dampen and it was just over where his most secret places were. You were never this close, this intimate with each other

“Kiss me again, my dove,” he commanded.

You kissed him again, his fingers crawling, up your leg. He found your hip and then moved you. You moaned from the friction, the touching and brushing of your bodies.

But you wanted it, you didn’t stop him.

His hands were over you, greedily touching since you were all his now-his betrothed, his wife, and soon his queen- and he would make sure you never forgot it. He gave you a last grind of your hips.

His hands desperately searched your clothes, trying to find the seams. But you were aching, going up for him, needing him.

“Hal- Hal!” you whispered

“And what if I do? I can’t bear it- the longer I’m with you, the more desire overcomes me- You drive me mad- I can’t, I can’t take it, my dear, my love-I-I have to ravish you, here-now-”

“Yes, you may…”

He slid aside the papers and books so the desk was clear. You swallowed, getting incredibly wet but excited with his flushed face. But his eyes determined, an animal after his prey. And nothing could tear him from his prize.

He kissed you, prompting you to sit. He undid a bit of your bodice, pulling it down, finding your breasts. The cold air touched it as his pupils darkened over the sight of you.

“You’re exquisite, darling, and you’re not his, you’re mine-”

Once they were revealed, he fondled them, thumb grazing over the hard nipples. You moaned appreciatively. All while he kissed your neck.

“Say it, say you’re mine,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you replied.

He then freed a hand. It moved up your leg.

“All of this, this beauty, it is all mine-and I’ll drive you there, until you cry out for all of them to hear.”

slid a finger inside and you gasped, feeling it stretch you. You gasped as he curled up- surprised his long finger could go so deep, and find a spot that brought so much pleasure and pain as he discovered the little nub inside you.

“My- my lord!”

He kissed your neck again, then looked at you, smugness spread on his lips.

“Yes….yes, call me that.”

He gathered your skirt up and then undid his codpiece and released his pants, standing at full attention. You gave a small gasp at the sight of his size. He looked at you darkly, a new tone in his voice- deadly and commanding, a king to his whore

“You will be good and make it fit, every bit of it. And you will call me my lord.”

His hands made your legs come wide apart, he moved you up. He was slow, entering you, so you got used to it. You let out a moan, tugging onto him.

“Yes…take it…like a good girl…take it.”

He forced your legs further apart, sheathing you in with a grunt. You let out a sound, your insides penetrated, clutching onto him, feeling your bare breasts against his leather. Your blouse fell lower, exposing both. He then gave a first, sloppy thrust. Then he was seated inside you.

“My lord!” you cried out.

“There-there- I will make you scream it louder,” he growled.

Then he began thrusting—his moans in your ear. You dug your fingers into his shoulders and grabbed your hips, keeping tight. The desk made a sound as you did. It began slowly.

“My-my lord, oh- gods- yes, there, my lord-gods-gods blood-”

It then picked up, your breasts bouncing and your heart racing. All you knew was him, felt was him. You were moaning even louder. It was a desperate, animal. Pounding his hips into yours.

He released one hand. It found your nub between. You gasped. He then strummed it with each deep, forceful, desperate pounding.

“H-My-My lord I-I-there-oh-oh god-I’m-I’m going-going to-to die, but- don’t-don’t-don’t stop-”

“You’re close, you’re-you’re close, darling-call me that-yes-now-fuck,yes-yes-

“Say it, say it when you cum-I’m-I’m going to cum-cum inside- cum, fie, lady- fie, it’s on me now- cum, fie, lady -cum!”

He picked it up incredibly fast, you held onto him, your pleasure spinning out of control.

“Yes- close, close- come on now, give in- let go-”

With a grunt, his seed shot into you and the release of pleasure broke inside you. You didn't say his title but gasped. The light had hit you and made everything duller, things spun, and you felt as if you were in oblivion.

In a final whisper, you only whispered once more “My…my lord…” Your nails dug into him- your lord, your intended, your prince, and your husband. A marriage not sworn but already consummated.

He pulled out, and then cupped your face, “as you are my lady.”

You pressed foreheads, feeling his warm breath and how soft his skin felt- comforting, gentle.

He helped you off and then readjusted your dress so all was well. Making sure the blouse covered you up and that your skirt was in place.

“Are you not hurt?” he asked.

“Not a bit.”

He wrapped a protective arm around you, leading you out.

“Here…we must return to the party…I will fetch us some wine.”

“And…you can have the next dance, my lord,” you said.

He smiled at you- not a naughty smile, but a kind, genuine smile that burst with love.

“As you have all of mine, my lady.”

His smile shone brighter than any candlelight. He gave you a last kiss before you were on his arm, returning to the party.

#smut #carrie writes #prince hal #prince hal x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #the hollow crown #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal x you #prince hal x y/n #prince hal smut #prince hal imagine #prince hal the hollow crown

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sunkissedchldrecon · 10 months

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒕

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the sandwich, pile two is the strawberries and whip cream, and so on and so forth.

this PAC is intended for when you want to eat but don't know what you should make or order. you probably shouldn't use this daily, but if you want to: be my guest!

take your time to use your intuition to choose the pile that will best resonate with you. lastly, please don’t be afraid to say if the message resonated or not. it helps me in determining if my interpretations are correct or not, and i appreciate any sort of feedback - even if it’s “bad”.

good luck to you, reader 🍓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Chocolate Legs" by Eric Benet

"One Last Time" from Hamilton the Musical

"Victory Song" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Ace of Minuta, Judgement (Rx), The High Priestess, Queen of Lunga (Rx)

Reading:

For those who chose this pile, there's an emphasis on cooking at home and being spontaneous! Something organic, grown in your backyard, or very heavily focused on home cooking would be good to eat right now. Try not being so focused on following a recipe perfectly; don't be afraid to make mistakes or to do things out of order - that's the joy of cooking. Trust your intuition to guide you while cooking!

stelline pasta

mexican food

tteokbokki with rose water

salt & pepper

"sweet indulgence"

sweets in general, or as a base flavor

spicy as a secondary flavor

homemade/homegrown

family recipe

tomato

fruit

corn

hot, fire

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"god is a woman (live)" by Ariana Grande

"U Remind Me" by Usher

"Run" by Otis Kane

Cards:

The Emperor (Rx), King of Minuta, Seven of Minuta, Three of Ripiena, Page of Lunga

Reading:

Pile two, you may want to eat something that's a little messy and "heavy". There's an emphasis on indulgence and eating a little more than you might usually. You should eat something that's quick to make or to pick up yet that leaves you full and satisfied. You might even make it an event and invite family or friends over to eat with you! Overall there's an emphasis on speed and/or actually feeling full.

(red) wine

champagne

orzo pasta

lasagna

seafood boil

ramen

loaded nachos

casserole

heavy sauce (ie. pasta, alfredo, dressing, etc.)

soul/southern food

heavy and indulgent

layered

"something that fills you up" - not a snack

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Speed of Love" by Kelly Rowland

"Little People" by Todrick Hall

"Finesse (Remix)" by Bruno Mars (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Nine of Minuta, Two of Lunga, Four of Ripiena, Four of Lunga

Reading:

If you chose this pile, there's an emphasis on food that takes time to cook, receive, or eat. If you feel like eating out, you should eat something that's rich and savory - you might even order the most expensive thing on the menu. You might even eat two entrees or dishes! A new take on a comfort food might also be a good option.

spaghetti

barbecue (specifically smoked or heavily marinated)

steak

brisket

chicken adobo

tex-mex

fusion cuisine

savory as a primary flavor

comfort food

soul/southern food

double entrée

expensive - in amount of food or in actual price

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Shufflemancy:

"Dangerous" by YG & Mozzy (feat. G Herbo)

"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" by Pentatonix

"Bang Bang" by Jessie J, Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj

Cards:

Eight of Minuta (Rx), Nine of Corta (Rx), Ace of Minuta, Three of Corta

Reading:

This is my fast food pile! If you're craving something from a drive-thru or something that's typically labeled as "bad" for you, go ahead and get it! I also intuitively heard the "girl dinner" song, so I'm also getting you might eat food that's considered more of a snack or a bunch of snacks if you want. Either way, something you can make quickly or take on-the-go would be good.

fast food/drive-thru food

microwavable food

mcdonalds

chicken nuggets

panda express

snack food

chips

popcorn

trail mix

charcuterie board

lunchables

food tray

#Spotify #tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #tarotblr

191 notes · View notes

sunkissedchld · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒂𝒕

the piles go from left to right. therefore, pile one is the sandwich, pile two is the strawberries and whip cream, and so on and so forth.

this PAC is intended for when you want to eat but don't know what you should make or order. you probably shouldn't use this daily, but if you want to: be my guest!

good luck to you, reader 🍓

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Chocolate Legs" by Eric Benet

"One Last Time" from Hamilton the Musical

"Victory Song" by Stray Kids

Cards:

Ace of Minuta, Judgement (Rx), The High Priestess, Queen of Lunga (Rx)

Reading:

stelline pasta

mexican food

tteokbokki with rose water

salt & pepper

"sweet indulgence"

sweets in general, or as a base flavor

spicy as a secondary flavor

homemade/homegrown

family recipe

tomato

fruit

corn

hot, fire

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"god is a woman (live)" by Ariana Grande

"U Remind Me" by Usher

"Run" by Otis Kane

Cards:

The Emperor (Rx), King of Minuta, Seven of Minuta, Three of Ripiena, Page of Lunga

Reading:

(red) wine

champagne

orzo pasta

lasagna

seafood boil

ramen

loaded nachos

casserole

heavy sauce (ie. pasta, alfredo, dressing, etc.)

soul/southern food

heavy and indulgent

layered

"something that fills you up" - not a snack

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Shufflemancy:

"Speed of Love" by Kelly Rowland

"Little People" by Todrick Hall

"Finesse (Remix)" by Bruno Mars (feat. Cardi B)

Cards:

Nine of Minuta, Two of Lunga, Four of Ripiena, Four of Lunga

Reading:

spaghetti

barbecue (specifically smoked or heavily marinated)

steak

brisket

chicken adobo

tex-mex

fusion cuisine

savory as a primary flavor

comfort food

soul/southern food

double entrée

expensive - in amount of food or in actual price

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐕

Shufflemancy:

"Dangerous" by YG & Mozzy (feat. G Herbo)

"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" by Pentatonix

"Bang Bang" by Jessie J, Ariana Grande and Nicki Minaj

Cards:

Eight of Minuta (Rx), Nine of Corta (Rx), Ace of Minuta, Three of Corta

Reading:

fast food/drive-thru food

microwavable food

mcdonalds

chicken nuggets

panda express

snack food

chips

popcorn

trail mix

charcuterie board

lunchables

food tray

#tarot #oracle #pick a card #PAC #tarotblr #sunkissedchld #Spotify

97 notes · View notes

undiscovered-horizon · 1 year

Text

"Speak no evil" - Mafia!Billy Russo x Reader

[TW: violence, mob/mafia themes]

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀

SUMMARY: When one of his men steps out of the line, Billy wastes no time putting him in his place. Remember for the future that when it comes to his wife, you should speak no evil.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.3k

The fact that Billy made your house an open office for his business affairs made you occasionally not as furious. That day, however, it seemed as if every one of his underbosses and their closest subordinates came over. What was once your house suddenly became a get-together for criminals.

Billy knew that you disliked those events mainly because they were hardly interesting to you - it was, basically, very specific business talk weaved with cryptic slang that was only partially understandable to you. Because of that, you'd leave Billy and his men on the ground floor, doing their business, while you were sitting on the first floor, catching up with the responsibilities of owning a small business. You've lost count of how many times Billy offered to employ an assistant who would manage the coffee shop for you. As a prolific 'business owner' himself, your husband sure did miss the point of having something to do.

The only reason you were trespassing that invisible border between the ground floor and the first floor was that one file Billy seemed to misplace and asked you to retrieve from his actual office. It was supposed to be a short trip: get the documents, give them to Billy, exchange polite greetings and be on your merry way back upstairs. You had no interest in learning the intricate workings of the underworld, even if you were part of it, simply for your own peace of mind.

Walking through the door leading to the dining room, the Pentagon for New York's criminals for the day, you noticed a young guy, maybe in his twenties, smoking a cigarette by the garden screen door. The gap between the door and their frame was narrow enough that only his arm and the cigarette smoke could fit through. The first time Billy's subordinates came to your house, you made it very clear that you wanted no cigarettes indoors and, technically, that young guy by the garden door was abiding by the rule. Seeing the scar above his eyebrow, you thought you recognized him:

It was Jamie - someone whom you knew only from stories and passing glances during some big events. Anytime someone said something about him, it painted Jamie as a sheepish, maybe a little awkward guy, who didn't quite grasp social cues.

His eyes were focused on the floor as he smoked the cigarette and clearly thought hard about something. Among the dress shoes, your furry slippers looked at least amusing. They must have caught his attention as he tore his eyes away from the hardwood floor and looked up at you.

Jamie recognized you immediately, which was probably why he frantically threw away the half-smoked cigarette. He took a step towards you, effectively blocking your way.

"Sorry, sweetheart, no entry. This is now gentlemen's club, talkin' 'bout business n' stuff. Nothin' you should worry your pretty little head about."

Before you could answer him and remind him whose house he was in, somebody else interrupted the conversation:

"Something you want to share with everyone?"

The room fell silent. You turned to look at Billy, standing with his hands in his pockets. His eyes were slightly squinted and you could just tell he was irate.

"No, nothing, sir," Jamie frantically answered. He was quickly shaking his head.

"Weird, I thought I heard you being disrespectful to my wife."

The rest of the gathered men weren't willing to step in, they didn't even dare look anywhere else than each other or the floor. There really was no use in playing a hero - nothing good could come from it. Standing up to one's boss was always risky but it became downright moronic when the hierarchy in question was a gang. The other thing was that none of the other men thought Jamie was no longer salvageable: even among the demimonde, the wives were granted a certain amount of irrefutable respect regardless of what kind of men they were married to.

"No, I swear to God, boss, I didn't mean anything by what I said." It seemed ridiculously hard to believe that it was the same man that was gatekeeping your own dining room just minutes ago. "I was just being stupid, sir."

"You do seem really good at that," Billy answered with a mocking smile on his face. He appeared to be... enjoying that whole lark.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to offend," Jamie reassured. His eyes wandered everywhere but Billy's face - he simply lacked the courage to look his boss in the eye.

"Don't apologize to me, you idiot," Billy spat out. If the dining table was any shorter, you were sure he would vault over it and strangle that man with bare hands. "Apologize to the lady you dared to talk shit to."

This wasn't the first time Billy got slightly overprotective. Although you did find his attitude tiring at times, you knew it came from a good place - he loved you a little too much to bear seeing you being pushed around. In his mind, you were nothing short of a queen and he was going to demand others treat you the same way.

Jamie turned back to you. His face was pale, his hands were shaking and tears began pooling in his eyes - if that man was anything, it was terrified. It was such a sudden change of demeanour you couldn't quite wrap your head around it.

"I'm sorry ma'am, it wasn't my intention to offend, I swear," he said rushing his words.

"Don't sweat it, Jamie," you reassured him while slightly shaking your head. Truth be told, he did anger you but it wasn't something worth escalating - judging by his sudden fear, he probably learned his lesson already. Although you were still talking to the blond man, your eyes wandered to meet Billy's. You wanted to make sure you got your point across. "We're all good."

Billy's eyes remained squinted as he continued to stare at Jamie with vivid contempt. He was unconsciously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table. You could tell that he wasn't over the situation just yet, despite your sincere assurance.

"Come on, Jamie." Billy gestured at the younger man to come closer. His voice was suddenly softer - something that made very little sense given the situation and his obvious anger. "Let me give you some advice."

Reluctantly, Jamie began walking towards Billy while all the other men took a step back to let him pass. Although their daily lives were filled with life-endangering situations, they withheld their breaths while Billy Russo was quite clearly upset with someone. Only once did you wonder what tactics got Billy's subordinates so docile towards him but you quickly realized that the truth could be, most probably, fairly horrifying or at least deeply unsettling, so you never paid it much thought anymore - for your own peace of mind.

When Jamie was within reach, Billy suddenly grabbed his jacket and forcefully pushed him against the wall. Not letting go of the poor man, he hit the wall with his head a few times before leaning in and whispering a promise he was surely going to keep:

"If you ever talk to her like that again, I will kill you."

Billy hit the man against the wall once more before letting go of his clothes. The man fell to his knees, his body swaying due to dizziness. He seemed to have a fair amount of trouble aiming his sleeve at his nose to wipe the blood that was running out of it. Billy sat back down at the top of the table and casually looked around at the silent, anxious men:

"So, where have we left off?"

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beaft · 1 year

Text

GET DRESSED YOU MERRY GENTLEMEN

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supercap2319 · 1 year

Text

Baby It’s Cold Outside Chapter 3

A/N: Chapter 3 is up.

It was silent between them.

It wasn’t that awkward silence where you fill it with small talk back and forth, but the comfortable kind. The quiet you get when you’re in your room, comfortably lying on your bed as you watch a movie or listen to music. Tyler’s hands had been tight on the wheel; his knuckles white into the first four hours of their trip. He looked back every mile until he was sure his father wasn’t following them. The barista was surprised his boyfriend hadn’t picked up on his nervous energy. Y/N could smell fear, thanks to his vampire senses, and could hear the slight change in someone’s heart, so Tyler figured either Y/N didn’t notice his uneasiness or he was waiting for the right moment to catch Tyler and confront him on his lies.

Tyler's stomach did knots at that. God, he hoped not. He could handle his father hating him, but Y/N? He would die if he did. The sound of Y/N’s singing brought Tyler out of his thoughts as he watched him sing to the radio song of God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, but he changed the words to them. Probably, the version he sang with his own family.

“It's Christmas, and the graveyard folk has all come to play. They're going to make a fuss and walk around causing disarray.” Tyler began to chuckle. His first laugh in a while. His boyish features were displayed as Y/N looked at him and frowned. “What’s so funny, Puppy? Aren’t those the words?”

“The words are much different, but I like your version better. Sounds more fun.”

“It is. Remind me to teach you the full song later,” Y/N said.

Tyler smirks. “Deal.”

Y/N looks at his boyfriend as he has his eyes glued onto the road. His smooth skin and his golden brown curls, along with his blue eyes, were dressed in flannel over a white shirt with a brown jacket. Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. His mother told him that her undead heart came to life the moment she met his father, and Y/N wondered if that was the same feeling that he was experiencing right at this moment. A boyfriend who was half normie, half Hyde. His family would be so proud of him. Tyler's head turned towards Y/N, who looked away. Tyler smiled once again. Busted. “You were checking me out, weren't you, Y/N?”

Y/N blushed. “No…”

“You were!” Tyler cried. “What were you thinking about, mmh? Something naughty?” He couldn’t help how his smile grew as Y/N squirmed underneath Tyler’s teasing stare. “Perhaps, kissing out in the snow? Or maybe handjobs underneath the Christmas tree?” Tyler was surprised those words just came out of his mouth. He was never one for dirty talk. I guess his Hyde side was shining through and through.

The Munster boy looks at him, red in the face, but he smiles. “Sorry, I just forgot how beautiful you are. You’re like those paintings in museums. Absolute perfection. I’m lucky to have you as my boyfriend.” Tyler’s heart did not skip at being called Y/N’s ‘boyfriend.’ Nope, not one bit. The way it rolled off Y/N’s so smoothly that you just had to believe that they belonged together. It just made sense, but at the same time, it couldn’t. Not because of Y/N, no, this was all Tyler’s fault. He couldn’t give Y/N his everything like the other male had him. The curly-haired boy couldn’t even stand up to his father and say Y/N was his boyfriend with pride because he was scared of the repercussions of letting his homophobic dad know that he was very much not of the straight guy variety.

Y/N deserved someone happily out of the closet instead of a closeted, psychotic, curly-haired bartisa with daddy issues. Y/N’s probably told his family about him, and Tyler’s not sure if he’s ready for the expectations or rejections. The young man was so much into his head that he barely registered that Y/N was calling his name. “Uh, What….?”

Tyler turned to see Y/N looking at him, all traces of a blush gone as he glanced at the barista with concerned but hopeful eyes. “I said can we stop somewhere to get something to eat? I’m hungry.” The supplies of soda and chips could only take them so far into their journey, and Tyler was surprised that Y/N hadn't piped up early to ask to stop to get some food. He felt bad. He should have asked. What kind of gentleman doesn't ask if someone is hungry? His face reddened with embarrassment. “Sorry, Y/N, I should have asked if you were hungry sooner.”

“It’s fine. My fault for not asking before, but you looked so insistent on getting to New Jersey that I didn’t want to bother you.”

Tyler flushed even more at that. Y/N did notice Tyler’s off-putting nature in his efforts to get as far away from Jericho as he could, and in the process, he disregarded his boyfriend’s feelings and needs. “I’m sorry. Shit, that was stupid of me.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Y/N said. “You were probably eager to get out of Jericho for a while. It’s okay, Ty. No need to beat yourself over that.”

The sheriff’s son cleared his throat. “Right, so is there a place in mind?” He looked at their gage, and they were close to running on empty. They needed to put some gas in soon. Otherwise, Y/N would be a vampire speeding them the rest of the way. It was a funny thought that plagued the corners of Tyler’s mind. Seeing Y/N caring for Tyler's bridal style as he speeded them to his home in New Jersey. “Well, there’s a diner near a gas station if that’s okay with you?” Y/N looks at his phone’s GPS. Tyler nods his head. “Yeah, that’s perfect. Kill two birds with one.”

Y/N frowns. “A stone? Oh, no, no, no. If you want to kill birds, grandpa says you should use a throwing ax or arrows. More effective.”

Tyler laughed.

Once Tyler guided his truck into the parking lot of the Silver Diner, he and Y/N got out as the snow lightly clung to their jackets and on top of Tyler’s curls and Y/N’s red beanie that he did not steal from Tyler’s room. The door chimed like Christmas bells as they opened it and were greeted by the old-fashioned classic American diner as the jukeboxes played Christmas songs. The place looked like something out of the sitcom Happy Days. With its pink fluorescent lights all around the booths that were red in leather, with miniature jukeboxes at every table. It was awesome.

They walk towards the booths as customers, which consist of regulars, truckers, and tourists, stare at them as they walk past them. Tyler knew why they were staring. Their judgment gazes were the same ones as back in Jericho. Hateful. Fear filled. He briefly wonders if they would look at him the same way if they knew he wasn't one of them. If Y/N noticed their judgmental stares, he didn’t say anything as a waitress approached them. “For two? You and your…. umm… brother want a counter seat or a booth?”

Y/N looked at her, an exciting shine in his eyes. “He’s my boyfriend, ma’am. Not my brother.”

“Oh, sorry about that. I just assumed that.” She looks at Y/N’a green hues. “That’s some mighty fine Christmas-colored hair you got there.”

“Thank you. It’s the hair I was born with,” Y/N smiles as the waitress frowns in confusion.

“Booth will be great, right?” Tyler asks in a hurry to avoid the awkward stares their waitress is giving Y/N.

“Yeah, sounds great!”

They were led through the aisles, and people stared at them as they passed. Tyler put a protective hand on Y/N’s shoulders until he slid into one side of the booth. Tyler slid into the other as he looked over the menu. So many different choices to make as he looks up at Y/N as he’s deep in thought about the food he wants to order. The barista was surprised to learn that Y/N doesn’t have to feed on blood to survive; he could stay on normie food just fine. He only drank blood to keep his vials normal and healthy.

“You know what you’re going to get?” Tyler asked from across the booth.

Y/N looks up at him. “Yup. You?”

“Yup.”

The waitress, Mary, her name tag stated, made her way back to the table, perching a hand on her hip as she held up her order notepad. “You boys ready?” she asked.

“I’ll have your double bacon cheeseburger, please,” Tyler politely said.

“Fries or tots?”

“Fries.”

“And what to drink?”

“Coke.”

The waitress turned to Y/N. “And for you?”

“The same, please. No onions, and can I order your cakes in a pan, please?” It took a moment to register to Tyler that his boyfriend meant pancakes. Mary wrote their order down and looked at them. “I’ll be back with your drinks. Did you want those pancakes before or after your meal, sweetie?” She looks at Y/N, and Tyler’s pleasantly surprised look of bewilderment is gone. Maybe not all normies were so bad.

“After.”

“You got it.” She walks away.

It wasn’t long before they received their food, as they settled into a comfortable conversation that should have been impossible for a normie, well, half normie and an outcast, but it wasn’t like that between them. When they talked, it was like the rest of the world faded away to just them, and there were no labels in their world—just peace and safety.

Tyler felt himself finally relax as he laughed at something Y/N said. His boyish features are on full display, including his dimples too. He honestly left his worries behind him, and now he’s going to enjoy the holidays with his boyfriend. The consequences could suck it. There was an ease that settled in Tyler’s soul when he reached over and stole fries from Y/N’s plate. Y/N didn’t mind, though; he smiled as Tyler munched on his stolen French fries.

“So, who’s coming to your family’s Christmas party? Your uncles from the old country?” Y/N’s uncles, who lived in Transylvania and other places, were coming to the states for Christmas. Y/N nodded. “Yup. There’s uncle Charlie, my dad's twin brother. There’s uncle Phantom of the Opera. He has a beautiful voice that shatters glass. There’s uncle Gilbert from the Black Lagoon and uncle Stefan. He’s from Italy.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet them.”

“And they can’t wait to meet you, too,” Y/N said. “That’s okay, right? I told my family about you, and they’re so excited to see you, Ty.”

“Really?” Tyler asked. “Even though I’m half normie and a Hyde?”

“Of course. Grandpa says I found myself a keeper when he learned you were a Hyde. He practically gave me his blessing for a marriage proposal. He says Hydes are like royalty back in Transylvania.”

Tyler hadn’t expected that answer. He expected to be turned away as soon as they discovered he was a murderous killing machine, but the Munsters liked that quality in a future-in-law. Go figure. The curly-haired boy licked his lips as his blue orbs looked at Y/N. “I hope that I don’t disappoint them. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time that I didn’t live up to someone’s expectations.” And just like that, the angst is back. Thinking about his father is back in full force as Tyler frowns.

Y/N frowns, too, as he puts a hand over Tyler’s. “Ty, what are you talking about? My family’s going to love it as much as I do. You could never disappoint them or me.” The promise in his boyfriend’s voice was so commanding and powerful that Tyler just had to believe him. That strangers were willing to welcome someone they’d never seen in their home. It was almost enough to make the Galpin boy cry. Almost. “You think so?”

Y/N smiled. “I know so.”

…..

After their waitress brought them their stack of pancakes that they shared down the middle; their diner date was pretty uneventful, except for who should pay for their dinner. Tyler and Y/N both fenced back and forth before it was agreed upon that Tyler would pay for dinner, if Y/N paid for the gas. Once they had left the diner and filled up Tyler’s truck with enough gas to get them to Y/N’s house, they set off once again for the road as they finished the last three hours of their trip.

Tyler drove through the town of Mockingbird Heights as the GPS guided them towards the street of 1313 Mockingbird Lane.

Once they had arrived at their intended destination, Tyler got out of the car and opened the other side of the door for his boyfriend as he turned towards the house and gasped. The house, or mansion a better word for it, was a Gothic Victorian style. The house stands on a property enclosed by a stone wall and the yard is full of weeds and dead trees. Tyler’s never seen a house like this in life before, only in the movies and tv shows. It was amazing.

Y/N successfully grabbed all their luggage in one go thanks to his Frankenstein like strength as he guides Tyler through the gates of his home with a giant ‘M’ on the bars. As they head up the porch towards the house, the barista notices some Christmas decorations on the front lawn. There’s all the colorful and festive lights surrounded by a giant spider web with mechanical spiders. There’s also the snowman getting his head cut off by the executioner at the guillotine. Over and over again. And the rabid reindeers on top of the house.

“Wow, this place is pretty bleak and horrifying,” Tyler said. Then he realized how that sounded and blushed as he stammered out an apology. “Y/N, I’m sorry I didn’t mean too–”

“–Wow, Puppy, that was so sweet of you to say.” Y/N smiled. “My family sure did try hard and to hear you say those kind words about it makes me smile.”

Tyler rubbed the back of his head nervously. “You’re welcome.” Bad and bloody, we're good here. They were compliments.

They stood on the other side of the door as Y/N set their stuff down and knocked. The whole mansion shook underneath Y/N’s fist as Tyler tried to steady his nerves. Any minute now, he was going to be meeting his boyfriend’s family as soon as that door opened. Hopefully, he doesn’t screw things up. Sensing his uneasiness, Y/N grasped his boyfriend’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze and a small smile. Tyler smiled back.

The sound of thundering footsteps could be heard as the front door opened up to reveal a hulking figure about 8-foot-tall if Tyler had to guess. He had green skin with a square shaped face, a scar on his forehead, bolts on either side of his neck and black hair. He wore a gray coat over a black sweatshirt with pants and giant boots. Probably the biggest shoes Tyler’s ever seen. Despite his monstrous appearance, he had a sunny disposition about him like his son, as his blue eyes sparkled when he looked down at Y/N and Tyler.

He let out a loud braying bellow as he grabbed Y/N into a hug. Tyler could hear the faint crush of bones and he was concerned, but Y/N seemed ecstatic. “Y/N! Good to see you, my son!”

Y/N giggles as he hugs his father back and Tyler hears bones crunching underneath Y/N’s arms. “You too dad!” They separated as Y/N’s father turned towards Tyler. “Oh, and just who is this young man?”

Tyler opens his mouth to speak, but Y/N beats him to the punch. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Tyler Galpin. Tyler, this is my dad, Herman Munster,” He introduces the two. “He’ll be staying for the holidays and maybe New Year’s before the spring semester.”

Herman stares at Tyler, and he has to fight the urge to shrink underneath his intense gaze. Finally, Herman breaks into a smile as he holds out his hand. “How do you do, Tyler?” The son of the sheriff looks at the outreach hand and grasps it with his own. It’s surprisingly cold to the touch. He shakes his hand as he politely says , “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir,” Tyler says, proud to hear that his voice doesn’t shake or crack.

“Likewise, young man. Though he’s certainly less hairy than the boyfriend I had when I was your age, Y/N.” Herman laughs at his own joke.

“Seriously, dad jokes? Are you trying to embarrass me?” Y/N blushed as Tyler looks at him and giggles. Herman smiles. “Why don’t you both head inside and I’ll take your bags upstairs?” Y/N nodded as he grabbed Tyler’s hand and led them into the mansion.

Y/N led Tyler past a staircase as Herman traveled up said stairs with all their stuff in his hands as the barista was led into the living room. The first thing Tyler noticed were the webs. The whole living seemed to be covered in it, like Spider-Man had a fight here and didn’t clean up after himself. There were candles lit all around with an old-fashioned clock, an electric chair, a tv, and a fireplace with a couch and a coffee table. There was also a giant harp too.

“Hope you don’t mind, but my mom cleaned this place up for our arrival,” Y/N said.

“That’s fine. No problem at all.” Tyler smiles.

From another room, a beautiful and slender woman with long dark hair with flex’s of gray mixed in and greenish skin, wears an ankle-length pale pink gown that appears faded and old, a bat-shaped medallion around her neck as she is accompanied by an older looking man who also has green skin. He wears a tuxedo with crazy curly gray and white hair. They stop when they see the two boys.

“Ma! Grandpa!” Y/N whooshed towards them and hugged them tight as they did the same to him. “Oh, dear, it’s wonderful to have you home for Christmas, Y/N.”

“It certainly is. Especially with the new blood you brought into the family.” The old man looks at Tyler, a gleam in his eyes as in a blink of an eye; he’s right in front of Tyler, grasping his arm. His fangs come out as the curly-haired young man watches him attempt to bite his arm.

“Grandpa!” Y/N speeds towards them and gets in between as he stands in front of Tyler protectively. “You can’t just bite my boyfriend’s arm.”

“That’s right, grandpa you can’t. You didn’t even ask him for permission first.” the woman says. “Besides, Y/N already has a claim over him and will bite him if he so chooses to do so.”

“Ma, I told you, vampires, my age, don't bite people anymore. It's not considered cool.”

“Cool?” the old man asks. “Back in my day, it was the coolest thing about being a vampire and suddenly now it's not? Your grandma would be turning in her grave right now.”

“What are you talking about? She always turns in her grave.” Y/N gives Tyler an apologetic look. “Sorry about that, Tyler. That was very rude of my grandfather.” He glares at the old man.

“Oh, so this is Tyler?” The woman asks Y/N.

“Wait, he’s Edward Hyde’s great, great, great great, grandson?” The old man gasps.

“Yup, he sure is. Ma, grandpa, this is Tyler. Ty, this is my mom, Lily, and my grandpa, Sam Dracula, Count of Transylvania.”

“Hello, there. Nice to meet you both,” Tyler said.

“You too, Tyler. So wonderful to finally meet you in person. Y/N’s told us all about you,” Lily said.

“He sure has.” Grandpa smiles as he pats them both on the shoulders. “He’s a keeper, Y/N. You have my blessing.” He leans close to Tyler. “Catch ya later, your highness.” He walks out of the room.

“Where are Marilyn and Eddie?” Y/N asks.

“Oh, Marilyn is on a date, and it’s nighttime. I suppose I should wake up Eddie from his sleep. Don’t want him wasting a beautiful night in bed,” Lily said.

“Speaking of bed, Tyler and I are going to get some sleep. It was a long trip.” Y/N noticed Tyler trying to hide his yawn.

Lily nods her head. “Of course, dear. I made sure to clean your room with fresh cobwebs and dust.”

Y/N leads Tyler away from the living room and up the stairs, passing his father as they go up and he goes down. “Going to bed, son? In the middle of the night?”

“Yeah, pops, we’re pretty tired.”

“Alright then, son. You and Tyler have a bad night's sleep and sweet nightmares,” Herman said. Y/N nods and kisses his father’s cheek goodnight as he leads Tyler towards his room.

When Herman comes down the stairs, he finds his wife waiting for him. “Oh, Herman, do you really think they should be sleeping in the same room together? You know how boys are.”

“I do, Lily. Because I am one,” Herman says.

“Would you two stop worrying?” Grandpa said. “Y/N’s a responsible young man and he would never do anything inappropriate. Besides, when I was his age, my parents let my partners stay in my coffin all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s because most of them were dead on their feet.” Herman says with a loud bellow.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #wednesday 2022 #tyler galpin x male reader #tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #hunter doohan x male reader #hunter doohan #the munsters #Y/N Munster

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tyo-mimt · 5 months

Text

16/36. @tmnt-event-blog

Absolutely no one is being normal here.

It started off with a joke. It always did. And then it escalated. Because it always did.

Cassandra walked into the lair. Leo, Donnie and Mikey were there, occupying the booth couch. Instead of her usual attire, she wore a tacky green sweater with crudely-knit reindeer and the world's largest grin.

"Good evening, gentlemen." The calm phrasing should've been the first indication that something was very wrong.

"Yo."

"Good evening, Cassandra."

"Noticing something different about today?"

Leo looked up from the comic he was reading, placing his chin on the back of his palm. He offered an obviously incorrect guess, "New haircut?"

"Right on the dot!" Cassandra called out, a large devious grin painted across her face. Leo's gotcha moment sufficiently fizzling into the abyss, Donnie watched and stifled his laughter as both their eyes followed Cassandra away from the two.

"Huh, really though she'd-"

"Guess who!" Their heads snapped to dad. Oh, wow. Bright red and white sweater with a candy cane pattern. It was an eyesore.

"Papa?"

"Yes, Purple?"

"What's with the..."

"Oh, just a present for the festive season... Pay it no mind!"

Weird, weird, so very weird.

It was about to get weirder.

From the garage entrance, April walked in with Draxum... That by itself wasn't too weird; they lived in the same apartment complex, but what was odd were how they were wearing the matching sweaters.

April had a white one with a bird. Draxum wore a pink one with a bird facing the other way. Two turtle doves... That was probably what the sweaters were supposed to be, which only added to how this was premeditated... Planned.

Mikey called out, "Nice sweater, Dad! And April!"

"Aww, thanks~! Really brings out the holiday spirit, doesn't it?" April gleefully cheered. Draxum looked a little less enthusiastic, but did pump his fist in the air.

Biggest red flag.

"Okay! Timeout!" Leo stood from his seat, nearly toppling the table over, "Who's responsible for all of this!"

"Responsible for what, Leo?" April raised an eyebrow.

"The sweaters?" Donnie questioned to satiate his own curiosity, "Those horrifying pieces of fabric that you all mistake for actual sweaters?"

"They aren't terrible!" Cassandra called out, "They're soft and fluffy!"

"We're not discrediting function over fashion, but we just wanna know-"

"Who's responsible?" Everyone's head snapped toward the entrance to the train carts. The bedrooms. And out emerged Raph, wearing by far the ugliest of all the sweaters. A dark blue sweater with the saddest excuse of a snowman embroidered on it.

"It was all Raph's doing... And you three are going to join us..."

Ah, it's a cult.

Three appropriately-sized sweaters were displayed, tossed onto the table with ease. Before Donnie could even scoff, Mikey had already dove forward to pull out an orange one with a misshapen star. "Ohmigosh! This one has my colours!"

"Ooh, classay~" Leo lifted a light blue sweater with the embroidered text, reading "Merry Crisis". The sleeve was pinned up, so it was definitely meant for Leo. Hah, it did suit him.

"Well, Donnie?" The mentioned softshell looked back up at Raph, "What d'you say?"

He turned to the two brothers who sat beside him, seeing them already donning the Christmas sweaters.

"Scoff! If you think peer pressure will work on me, you have got another thing coming."

"Dad promised uranium if we have one good family photo."

Donnie's never put on a sweater so quickly in his life.

As he slipped the collar over his head, a chorus of footsteps comes through the subway entrance. CJ stood there, along with Sunita behind him. He's regularly dressed, as was the disguised yokai who followed him.

"Hey, what are you guys wearing?" Casey dared to ask. Every single eye turned to the future boy. Everyone's getting an ugly sweater; there was no escape.

#rottmnt #tmnt holiday bingo #snow day play #rottmnt cassandra jones #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt splinter #rottmnt april #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt raph #rottmnt casey junior #rottmnt sunita

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Note

Eddie needs Dio's "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen", literally any scenario or genre will do.

There are still two spots left in my twelve days event if you’d like to request something - no need for it to be Christmas themed, winter activities/stories are more than welcomed too. The playlist so far is linked at the end of the story. Let me know what you think, any interaction is so appreciated and loved!

Summary: Modern Eddie POV (but just in terms of the bar crawl kind of thing), mentions of drinking / puking (not too detailed, but a little sorry), Eddie is Christmas Eve bar crawling with Steve and Robin when he meets you, mentions of the holiday Christmas being celebrated

1.3k words

Day 05 | Track 05: “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” by DIO

How Steve and Robin convinced him to go on a bar crawl was beyond him.

And not just any bar crawl - but a Christmas Eve bar crawl.

Sexy santa's, “sit on my lap and tell me what you want for christmas’ ”, bright red cocktails with whipped cream and green beer, “I'm on the nice list but tonight I'm on the naughty’s”, and so much tinsel in people's hair and beards that somehow managed to get all over him.

Ugly Christmas sweaters, themed on themed food, drinks with puns to match the music that had been bopping overhead at every. single. bar. - and people sloppy drunk screaming happy holidays at him or trying to hold up mistletoe in his face.

And as they walked up the block to the last bar of the evening, Eddie watched a girl puke her absolute guts out, bright green in a sea of white snow and he groaned.

"Guys, please, can we call it a night? I'll order us an uber-"

Robin gasped from her place on Steve's back (claiming to be too tired to walk, but not too tired to miss the last bar and Steve being just tipsy enough to offer her a piggyback ride with a smile instead of a look of disdain).

Steve elbowed him, grinning, a high pitched voice surely mocking Robin as he exclaimed, "But this one has karaoke!"

Eddie groaned again and Robin gasped again and hit Steve's shoulder, "Go, go! What are you waiting for Steve! We can sing Last Christmas if we hurry!"

Steve started walking faster, turning backwards to face Eddie as Robin hit him repeatedly. He called out loudly, "Come on Munson, you heard the lady! Last one there has to carry her all the way back home!"

Eddie hung his head and followed, as much as he didn't wanna go, he was having fun with Steve and Robin and there was potential to get some really good blackmail videos to use against the two if they really did do karaoke.

And so, that's how he found himself leaning up against the wall grinning ear to ear at Steve screaming that Bruce Springsteen version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Eddie couldn’t wait to show the kids the video.

And he had to admit, Steve wasn't actually that bad, and Robin holding up her cell phone with a video of a lighter in front of him made it even better.

When Steve finished, bowing to his small applause and high fiving Robin as she pretended to echo a cheer and a chant of his name, Eddie watched a group of girls pushing one of their friends towards the stage who was shaking their head profusely.

The opening wailing of a guitar started and Eddie perked up. This was not the average Christmas song played on the radio.

He watched you stumble onto the stage, glaring at the group of your friends as you took the microphone from Steve.

Dressed in a Die Hard t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots with a Santa hat, Eddie was pretty sure his heart stopped beating when he realized it was the DIO version of the song.

Your eyes wide, mouth open like a fish, and nothing came out as you stared at the people occupying the small bar. Eddie felt his body moving, felt his heart in his fingertips, it was just like singing with Corroded Coffin, it wouldn’t be that bad.

You know, except he was pretty tipsy, it was way more than only five drunk people, and you were holding the same mic as him, and he didn’t have his comfort blanket of a guitar to hold.

When he stepped onto the small stage and started singing, you grinned and eventually joined in with him, screaming out in a voice that he didn't understand could fit inside of you, "To save us all from Satan's power, when we were gone astray…”

A duet like he’d never sung before, clutching the mic together, he was mesmerized by the way you scrunched your eyes closed as you absolutely wailed out notes perfectly and when the guitar solo happened and you pretended to play while headbanging he almost got down on one knee right then and there.

When the song ended, Eddie and you were both breathless, foreheads almost touching, you bit your lip and backed away shyly, falling back into your group of friends who grouped around you screaming and cheering about how good it was.

Steve patted him on the shoulder, grinning and then pointed to Robin slumped over on the table, "Time to pay the piper my friend."

Eddie rolled his eyes, "How did she fall asleep during that," he grunted as Robin pushed his face away, kicking at him and he mumbled, "Jesus, Buckley, help a guy out here."

She moaned, "I don't want to go! I wanna sing..." She hiccuped and moaned again, "Last Christmas. I didn't get to sing Last Christmas."

Steve and Eddie shared a look and then Steve held her hands down as Eddie grabbed at her waist and she kicked him in the knee.

Eddie could feel his ears getting red as he clenched his jaw, "Woman, if you don't-"

She pointed at him, forehead on the table, "Steve can carry me. You go with that cutie."

Eddie rubbed his temple and sighed, watching Steve chug water next to him, "Harrington can't carry you right now. Buckley, get on my back right now or I'm leaving both of your asses here and I'm taking your Christmas present back."

She hiccuped again, peeking one eye open too, "You got me a present?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yes. A good one too. Now," he tapped his rings on the table, "Up."

She sighed and put her arms out like a zombie and Eddie hiked her up on to his back as she huffed at Steve, "I can't believe you told me to have that Claus-mopolition at the last bar-" She kicked out her foot at Steve who stumbled next to Eddie, "Or how you convinced me to get these boots. They hurt!"

Steve knocked her skull with his knuckles lightly, "You ordered that drink because the bartender who was trying to sell it to you had green eyes, and-" Steve spun, walking out of the bar backwards, "You asked me if your butt looked good in those boots and I said yes and-"

Robin hissed, "Steve-"

Eddie laughed, "They do make your butt look good Buck."

She flicked his ear and he could tell she was rolling her eyes, drunk, but not enough to lose her sarcastic spirit, "In your dreams shitbirds."

Steve placed a hand over his heart like he'd been wounded when Eddie heard, "Wait! DIO karaoke crasher!"

Eddie turned to see you running down the sidewalk, pushing through the mess of sloppy drunk people. Robin slid from his shoulders as you reached them.

You were breathless, holding up a finger to your neck and a one second signal and Eddie was grinning so hard he thought his face would pop.

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Sorry, I just thought-"

You waved his apology away and stepped forward, "I wanted to say thank you to my knight in shining leather."

Barely any space between your bodies and Eddie felt his face heat up as you reached into your back pocket and held up mistletoe and kissed his cheek.

You whispered, "Thank you."

You slid his jacket sleeve up as you pulled the cap of a sharpie off with your mouth and wrote a number on his wrist, signing it with your name. You winked at him as you turned away from him with your lip between your teeth as your friends all cheered and cat called and you flipped them off.

Eddie was pretty sure he melted into a puddle right there on the sidewalk as he watched you walk away, nothing would ever ruin a moment so-

He turned to see Steve holding Robin's hair back with his head facing the sky as he shook it, mumbling something about no matter how many times she promised to watch Star Wars would he say yes to a bar crawl again.

Twelve Days of Christmas Playlist:

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #modern!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfiction #twelve days of christmas

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abbygrabska · 15 hours

Text

Voyage of The Damned

The Doctor walks around the console, deep in thought. Then something crashes through the wall and we fall to the floor.

I let out a cough and wave a hand in the air to clear the smoke. “What the fuck?!” I spot a life preserver that reads ‘Titanic’.

The Doctor gets up, and, using various controls, closes the Tardis, pushing out the ship.

The Doctor and I step out and brush ourselves off. I pat the Tardis, making sure she’s okay. The Doctor opens the cupboard door and steps out. I follow him.

We enter a wood-paneled room decorated with potted palm trees and Christmas decorations. People dressed in early 20th-century clothes mill about as waiters pass hors d’oeuvres and champagne. The band is playing a sedate version of ‘Jingle Bells’.

We approach two golden angels garbed in white. They move mechanically and I realize they’re robots.

I wander over to the window and look out, “Right.”

We’re in space.

“Attention all passengers. The Titanic is now in orbit above Sol 3, also known as Earth. Population: Human. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Christmas.”

A video of a bald man with a thin mustache sitting behind a desk, “Max Capricorn Cruiseliners-the fastest, the farthest, the best. And I should know because my name is Max.”

The screen reverts to the cruise line logo.

We walk towards reception.

We stroll through the entertainment lounge, looking around.

“Merry Christmas, sir, ma’am.” The Steward says.

We respond in kind, “Merry Christmas.” We pass by a man speaking into a futuristic phone.

The Doctor approaches a robotic angel.

“Evening. Passenger 57 and 58. Terrible memory. Remind us. Uh, you would be…” The robots voice is neutral, movements smooth and controlled, rather than robotic, “Information: Heavenly Host supplying tourist information.”

“Good, so um… tell me, cos I’m an idiot, where are we from?”

“Information: The Titanic is ‘en route’ from the planet Sto in the Cassavalian Belt. The purpose of the cruise is to experience primitive cultures.” “Titanic.” I nod, “Who thought of the name?” “Information: it was chosen as the most famous vessel on the planet Earth.” “Did they tell you why it was famous?” I ask.

“Information: all designations are chosen by Mr. Max Capricorn, president of Max- Max- Max…” The robot keeps repeating the name, becoming higher in pitch. The head jerks with every ‘Max’.

“Ooh, a bit of a glitch.” The Doctor reaches into his pocket, about to sonic the Host when the steward rushes in.

“Sir, we can handle this.” He waves to others for assistance. Two other stewards arrive and switch off the host taking it away, “Software problem, that’s all. Leave it with us, sir. Merry Christmas.”

In reception, I spot a waitress drop her tray after bumping into the man on the phone. “For Tov’s sake, look where you’re going! This jacket’s a genuine Earth antique.” “I’m sorry, sir.” She bends down to pick up the broken glass. “You;ll be sorry when it comes off your wages, sweetheart.”

I glare, storming over to him, “Hey, don’t talk to her like that. If you were paying attention that wouldn’t have happened.”

He rolls his eyes, walking off, “No wonder Max Capricorn is going down the drain.”

I kneel on the floor and help the waitress with the glass. The Doctor does the same.

“Thank you, sir, ma’am. I can manage.” “Never said you couldn’t. That man was a proper dickhead.” I grin, “I’m Abby, by the way.” I motion to the Doctor, “And that’s the Doctor.” “Astrid, ma’am. Astrid Peth.” “Nice to meet you, Astrid Peth. Merry Christmas.” She seems surprised with him, “Merry Christmas, sir.” “Just Doctor, not sir.”

“You enjoying the cruise?” She asks.

I nod, “We are.”

She stands, “That’s good.” We stand as well.

“What about you? A long way from home, Planet Sto.” “Doesn’t feel that different. I spent three years working at the spaceport diner, traveled all the way here… and I’m still waiting on tables.” She walks away. I follow her, pulling the Doctor along. “No shore leave?” He asks. She clears a table by the window, “We’re not allowed. They can't afford the insurance. I just wanted to try it, just once.” She looks out the window, “Never stood on another world. I used to watch the ships heading off to the stars and I always dreamt of… It sounds daft.” “You dreamt of another sky. New sun, new air, new life. A whole universe teeming with life. Why stand still when there’s all that life out there?” I ask.

“Yeah. So.. you two travel a lot?”

“All the time. Just for fun. Well, that’s the plan. Never quite works. Must be rich, though. Haven’t got a penny.” He whispers the last word, “Stowaway.” “You’re kidding.” “Seriously.” “No!”

“Oh, yeah.” I grin.

She laughs, “How did you get on board?”

“Accident. I’ve got this, sort of, ship thing. I was just rebuilding her. Left the defenses down, and bumped into the Titanic. Here we are. Bit of a party, we thought, ‘Why not?’”

“I should report you.”

“Go on then.” “I’ll get you two a drink…” She whispers, “on the house.” She walks away.

The singer starts ‘Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday’, the dance floor livens up. I see a heavyset couple dressed in purple country-western outfits sitting and eating a basket of chicken wings. Everyone is laughing and pointing at them.

“Just ignore ‘em.” I hear the man say as I approach.

I sit at the table with them, the Doctor joins me.

“Something’s tickled them.”

“They told us it was fancy dress. Very funny, I’m sure.” The woman says.

“They’re just pickin’ on us because we haven’t paid. We won our tickets in a competition.” The man tells us.

“I had to name the five husbands of Joofie Crystalle in ‘By the Light of the Asteroid.’” “Probably not good enough for that lot.” The man motions to the laughing crowd, “They think we should be in steerage.”

I reach into the Doctor’s pocket, “Can’t have that, can we?”

I hold the sonic at my side and aim behind me.

The champagne on the table pops its cork, spraying all over those at the table.

The two laugh.

“Did… Did you do that?”

I shrug, “Maybe.” I hand the Doctor his sonic.

“I’m Morvin van Hoff.” The man shakes my hand, “This is my good woman, Foon.”

I shake Foon’s hand, “I’m Abby, this is the Doctor. And can I just say, I love your outfits. They remind me of Dolly Parton.” “Who’s that?” Foon asks.

“She’s an Earth country singer. She has her own amusement park called Dollywood. It has a museum of all the outfits she’s ever worn on stage, it’s honestly amazing. I think she’d love you two.” Morvin smiles, “Isn’t that nice. Do you know much about Earth?”

“I was born on Earth. 1986. I’ll be 23 soon.” “You were born there? I thought Earth wasn’t aware of aliens. How’d you get on board then?” I open my mouth to answer then the PA echoes.

“Attention, please. Shore leave tickets Red 6-7 are now activated. Red 6-7.” Foon takes out a ticket, “Red 6-7. That’s us.” The couple stands, “Are you Red 6-7?”

“Might as well be.” I shrug. “Come on.” Morvin puts his arm around Foon, “We’re going to Earth.”

An older man, dressed in a tweed suit holds up a red sign bearing ‘6-7’.

“Red 6-7. Red 6-7. This way, as fast as you can.” We all walk over. Astrid approaches us. “I got you two drinks.”

I take the tray from her, “And we’ve got a treat for you. Come on.”

“Red 6-7 departing shortly.” The Doctor holds up his psychic paper and my hand, “Red 6-7 plus one.”

“Uh, quickly, sir, and please take three teleport bracelets if you would.” “I’ll get the sack.” I hand her a bracelet, “Brand new sky.”

“To repeat, I am Mr. Copper, the ship’s historian, and I shall be taking you to old London town in the country of the U.K. ruled over by the good King Wenceslas. Now human beings worshiped the great god Santa, a creature with fearsome claws, and his wife Mary. And every Christmas Eve the people of the U.K. go to war with the country of Turkey. They then eat the Turkey people for Christmas dinner… like savages.”

“Excuse me, sorry, sorry, but, um… where did you get all this from?” I ask.

“Well, I have a first-class degree in Earthonomics. Now stand by…” “And me! And me! Red 6-7!”

The owner of the voice is a small red-skinned alien with short spikes along his head.

“Well, take a bracelet, sir?” “Uh, but, um, hold on, hold on. What was your name?”

“Bannakaffalatta.”

“Ok, Bannakaffalatta. But it’s Christmas Eve down there. Late-night shopping, tons of people. He’s like a walking conker. No offense, but you’ll cause a riot ‘cause the streets are going to be packed with shoppers and parties…”

We get teleported down to Earth and arrive on an empty street.

“Oh.” I look around. “Now, spending money. I have a credit card in Earth currency if you want to buy trinkets or, uh, stockings or the local delicacy, which is known as ‘beef’, but don’t stray too far, it could be dangerous. Any day now they start boxing.” While Mr. Copper continues to talk, the Doctor looks around, confused by the empty street.

“It should be full. It should be busy. Something’s wrong.”

“But it’s beautiful.” Astrid states. “Really? Do you think so? It’s just a street. The pyramids are beautiful, and New Zealand…” “But it’s a different planet. I’m standing on a different planet. Th-there’s concrete… and shops, alien shops, real alien shops! Look, no stars in the sky. And it smells. It stinks!” She gasps, “This is amazing! Thank you!” She hugs us. “Yeah? Come on then, let’s have a look.” We cross the street to a newsagent’s booth. There’s an old man inside, bundled in winter clothes.

“Hello there! Sorry, uh, obvious question, but where’s everybody gone?” “Oh-ho, scared!” It clicks in my head, “Oh, yeah. That checks out.” “Why?” The Doctor asks.

“Well, it’s them, up above.” The old man points skyward, “Look, Christmas before last we had that big bloody spaceship, everyone standing on a roof.” He points at his small TV, “And then last year, that Christmas Star electrocuting all over the place, draining the Thames.” “This place is amazing.” Astrid admires.

“And this year, Lord knows what. So everybody’s scarpered, gone to the country. All except me… and Her Majesty.” The man stands proudly and looks at the TV.

“Her Majesty the Queen has confirmed that she will be staying in Buckingham Palace throughout the festive season to show the people of London and the world, that there’s nothing to fear.”

“God bless her!” He salutes, “We stand vigil.”

“Well, between you and me, I think Her Majesty’s got it right. As far as I know, this year, there is nothing to worry about.” We get teleported away suddenly.

“I was mid-sentence.” The Doctor tells Mr. Copper.

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. A bit of a problem. If I could have your bracelets…”

The chief steward joins us, “Apologies, ladies and gentlemen, Bannakaffalatta, we seem to have suffered a slight power fluctuation. If you’d like to return to the festivities. And on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners, free drinks will be provided.” The ticket holders depart.

“That was the best, the best!” Astrid leaves. The Doctor and I approach the chief steward.

“What sort of power fluctuation?”

I spot a framed screen showing a video loop of Max Capricorn, I tap the Doctor’s shoulder and point to it.

He puts on his glasses and takes out his sonic screwdriver, which he uses on the frame.

It opens and he changes some settings until the screen shows the Titanic and its immediate surroundings. The shields are offline. I peer out the window and see the meteors approach.

“Is this the bridge? I need to talk to the captain. You’ve got a meteoroid storm coming in West 0 by North 2.” “Who is this?” “Never mind that. Your shields are down. Check your scanners, Captain. You’ve got meteoroids coming in and now shielding!” “You have no authorization. You will clear the comms at once.” “Yeah? Just look starboard!”

Two stewards come to escort us out of reception.

“Come with me, sir, ma’am.”

The Doctor and I are led away through reception, still arguing.

“You’ve got a rock storm heading for this ship and the shields are down!”

I slam my foot on the steward’s foot and run to the stage where the band is playing.

“Everyone, listen to me! This is an emergency! Get to the lifeb…” A host covers my mouth and pulls me away.

I am taken away more forcibly from the room.

“Look out the windows!” People slowly go to the windows.

“If you don’t believe us, check the shields yourself!” “Sir, I can vouch for him!”

“Look, Steward, he’s just had a bit too much to drink.” “Sir, something seems to have gone wrong. All the teleports are down.” “Not now!” The Doctor and I are led through the maintenance corridors. Astrid, Mr. Copper, Bannakaffalatta, and the Van Hoffs follow us. “The shields are down, we are going to get hit!”

Everyone begins talking at once.

“Oi! Steward! I’m telling you the shields are down!” “Listen to him! Listen to him!”

Meteoroids hit the ship three times and we are all thrown to the floor.

The Doctor stops me from hitting my head.

The Doctor is the first to stand, he shoes everyone and listens, “It’s stopping.”

He helps me up, “You all right?” I nod, “Yeah.” “Bad name for a ship. Either that or this suit is unlucky.”

“I think it’s you that’s unlucky.” I grin.

The Doctor kneels to examine one of the stewards, the man is dead.

“Ev… everyone… Ladies and gentlemen, Bannakaffalatta, I must apologize on behalf of Max Capricorn Cruiseliners. We seem to have had a small collision.” “Small?” “You know how much I paid for my ticket?” “If I could have silence, ladies, gentlemen…” Everyone ignores him and continues arguing.

“Quiet!” Everyone stops, “Thank you. I… I’m sure Max Capricorn Cruiseliners will be able to reimburse you for any inconvenience. But first I would point out that we are very much alive.” I notice the cut on Mr. Copper’s head, “Are you all right?” I dab the cut on his head.

The Doctor walks over to us. “She is, after all, a fine, sturdy ship. If you could all stay here while I ascertain the exact nature of the… the situation.” The chief steward goes to open a hatch.

“Don’t open it!”

The hatch opens and the chief steward is sucked out into space by the vacuum. Everyone grabs hold of the piping near them. The Doctor goes over to the comms and uses his sonic screwdriver on the computer to replace the shield.

“Everyone all right? Abby? Astrid?” I nod.

Astrid pants, “Yeah.” “Foon? Morvin? Mr. Copper? Bannakaffalatta?” “Yes.” “You, what was your name?” The Doctor asks the rude man from earlier.

“Ah, Rickston Slade.” “You all right?” “No thanks to that idiot.” “The steward just died.” Astrid points out. “Then he’s a dead idiot.”

I go to slap him, and the Doctor grabs my hand, “All right, calm down. Just stay still, all of you. Hold on.”

He walks to the hatch opening.

Astrid and I join him, “What happened? How come the shields were down?” “I don’t think it was an accident.” I look out into space and see bodies among the flotsam and jetsam floating above Earth.

“How many dead?” Astrid asks.

“We’re alive, just focus on that. We’ll get you out of here, Astrid. I promise. Look at me. I promise.” I tell her.

She nods. “Good. Now,” The Doctor looks around, “if we can get to Reception, I’ve got a spaceship tucked away. We can all get on board…” I tap him on the shoulder, “Oh.” “What is it? What’s wrong?” Astrid asks. “That’s my spaceship over there.” “Where?” “There, that box. That little blue box.”

The Tardis floats in space. “That’s a spaceship?” “Oi, don’t knock it.” “It’s a bit small.” “A bit distant. Trouble is, once it’s set adrift, it’s programmed to lock onto the nearest center of gravity and that would be… the Earth.”

The Tardis starts to move towards Earth.

The Doctor speaks into a comms device, “Deck 22 to the bridge. Deck 22 to the bridge. Is there anyone there?” “This is the bridge.” “Oh hello, sailor. Good to hear from you. What’s the situation up there?” “We’ve got air. The oxygen field is holding. But the captain… He’s dead. He did it.” The voice breaks, “I watched while he took down the shields. There was nothing I could do. I tried. I did try.” “All right. Just stay calm. Tell me your name? What’s your name?” I ask.

“Midshipman Frame.” “Nice to meet you, sir. What’s the state of the engines?” “They’re um… Hold on.” there’s a groan on the other end.

“Have you been injured?” “I’m all right. Oh my vot. They’re cycling down.” “That’s a nuclear storm drive, yes?” “Yeah.” “The moment they’re gone, we lose orbit.” “The planet.”

“Oh yes. If we hit the planet, the nuclear storm explodes and wipes out life on Earth. Midshipman, I need you to fire up the engine containment field and feed it back into the core.” “This is never going to work.” “Trust me, it’ll keep the engines going until I can get to the bridge.” The Doctor switches off the comms and faces us.

“We’re going to die!” Foon shrieks.

“Are you saying someone’s done this on purpose?” “We’re just a cruise ship!” “Okay, okay. Tch, tch. First things first. One: we’re going to climb through this ship. Two: we’re going to reach the bridge. Three: we’re going to save the Titanic. Right then, follow me.” “Hang on a minute. Who put you in charge and who the hell are you anyway?” Rickston asks.

“I’m the Doctor. I’m a Time Lord. I’m from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterborous. I’m 903 years old and I’m the man who’s gonna save your lives and all six billion people on the planet below. You got a problem with that?” “No.” “In that case, allons-y!”

The Doctor slowly pushes open a metal door that leads into a stairwell littered with debris and sparking cables, “Careful. Follow me.” The Doctor goes ahead clearing the way.

I follow.

“Rather ironic when this is very much the spirit of Christmas. It’s a festival of violence. They say that human beings only survive depending on whether they’ve been good or bad. It’s barbaric.” Mr. Copper says. “Actually, that’s not true. Christmas is a time of-of peace and thanksgiving and… what am I on about? Christmas is always like this.” The Doctor uncovers a dormant host, “We’ve got a Host. Strength of ten. If we can mend it, we can use it to fix the rubble.” “We can do robotics, both of us.” Foon says. “We worked on the milk market back on Sto. it’s all robot staff.” Morvin elaborates.

“See if you can get it working.” I look to the others, “Let’s have a look.”

We climb further up the stairwell and find our path blocked by the wreckage. “It’s blocked.” Astrid points out. “So what do we do?” I ask. “We shift it.” She realizes.

“That’s the attitude. Rickston, Mr. Copper, and you, Bannakaffalatta… look, can I just call you Banna? It’s gonna save a lot of time.” “No! Bannakaffalatta!”

“All right then, Bannakaffalatta, there’s a gap in the middle. See if you can get through.”

“Easy. Good.” Bannakaffalatta squeezes through the opening.

The ship lurches again sending loose debris falling.

“This whole thing could come crashing down any minute!” “Oh, Rickston, shut up!”

“Bannakaffalatta made it.” “I’m small enough, I can get through.” Astrid makes her way through the hole.

“Careful.” I call.

“I’m fine.” “Thing is, how are Mr. and Mrs. Fatso going to get through this gap?” Rickston asks rudely.

I turn my head and glare at him, “First of all, you’re a dickhead. Second of all, we make the gap bigger.” I hand him a piece of metal.

I hear laughter echo through the stairwell.

“What happened? Did they find a donut?” “Shut it!”

“I can clear it from this side. Just tell me if it starts moving.”

“What’s going on up there?!” I ask, hearing faint whispers.

“I think Bannakaffalatta and I just got engaged.”

The Doctor opens the comms, “Mr. Frame, how’s things?” “Doctor, I’ve got life signals all over the ship but they’re going out one by one.” “What is it? Are they losing air?” I ask.

“No. One of them said it was the Host. it’s got something to do with the Host.” The Doctor rushes down the stairs.

There is a commotion before Morvin and Foon come up.

Rickston goes through the opening. “I’ll never get through there.” “Yes, you can. Let me go first.” Mr. Copper sneaks through.

I do the same.

Mr. Copper, Astrid, and I are helping Foon.

“No, I’m stuck!”

“Come on, you can do it!” I urge.

Mr. Copper uses a metal pole to widen the space, “It’s going to collapse!” Foon makes it through.

“Rickston, vot damn it, help me!” Rickston refuses. “Morvin, get through.”

The Doctor comes up behind Morvin.

“Doctor, he’s stuck!”

“Mr. Van Hoff, I know we’ve only just met, but you’ll have to excuse me.”

Morvin makes it through.

“That’s it. We’ve got you. Doctor, come on, get through.” The Doctor turns to the host, “Information override! You will tell me the point of origin of your command structure!” “I can’t hold it!”

“Information: Deck 31.” “Thank you.” The Doctor scrambles through the hole, “Let go!”

Mr. Copper releases his grip on the pole and the beam crashes onto the Host’s head.

We find ourselves in another open room.

Foon looks at a table, “Morvin, look, food.” Rickston speaks sarcastically, “Oh great. Someone’s happy.” “Don’t have any then.” Morvin says.

“Mr. Frame, you still there?” “Yes, sir, but I’ve got the Host outside. I sealed the door.” “They’ve been programmed to kill. Why would anyone do that?”

“That’s not the only problem. I had to use a maximum deadlock on the door, which means… No one can get in. I’m sealed off. Even if you can fix the Titanic, you can’t get to the bridge.” “Yeah, right, fine. One problem at a time. What’s on Deck 31?” “Um, that’s down below. It’s nothing. It’s just the Host storage deck. That’s where we keep the robots.”

The Doctor looks at the scanner, “Well, what’s that?” He puts on his glasses, “See that panel? Black. It’s registering nothing. No power, no heat, no light.” “Never seen it before.” “100% shielded. What’s down there?” “I’ll try intensifying the scanner.” “Let me know if you find anything.” He takes off his glasses, “And keep those engines going!” Astrid brings us some food, “Saved you some. You might be a time king, but you need to eat.”

“Yeah, thanks.” The Doctor takes the food and sits.

Astrid sits with us, “So, you look good for 903.” The Doctor speaks through a full mouth, “You should see me in the mornings.” I stare at him, “You barely sleep.”

“Doctor, it must be well past midnight, Earth time. Christmas Day.”

“So it is. Merry Christmas.”

“This Christmas thing, what’s it all about?” “Long story. I should know, I was there.” “But if the planet’s waking up, can’t we signal them? They can send up a rocket or something.” “They don’t have spaceships.” I say.

“No, I read about it. They have shuffles, space shuffles.” “Mr. Copper, this degree in Earthonomics… where’s it from?” I ask.

“Honestly?” “Just between us.” “Mrs. Golightly’s Happy Travelling University and Dry Cleaners.” He mops his brow with his hankie and sits.

“You… you lied to the company… to get the job?” “I… I wasted my life on Sto. I was a traveling salesman, always on the road and I retired with nothing to show for it. Not even a home. And Earth sounded so exotic.”

“Hm, I suppose it is, yeah.” “How come you know it so well?” Astrid asks.

“Abby was born there. And I was sort of… a few years ago, was sorta made… well, sort of homeless, and, um there was the Earth.” “Thing is, if we survive this, there will be police and all sorts of investigations. Now the minimum penalty for space-age fraud is ten years in jail. I’m an old man. Well, I won’t survive ten years.”

There is a banging on the door and the Doctor drops his food and rushes to the opposite door.

“A Host! Move! Come on!”

The pounding on the door continues, which dents from the force. We all follow the Doctor to the opposite side. He uses his sonic on the door and it opens to reveal a space that runs the height of the ship. The only way across is a makeshift bridge, created by a fallen strut below which are the engines. “Is that the only way across?” Rickston asks.

“On the other hand, it is a way across.” “The engines are open.” Astrid points out. “Nuclear storm drive. Soon as it stops the Titanic falls.” “But that thing, it’ll never take our weight.” “You’re going last, mate.” Rickston sneers.

“It’s nitrofine metal. It’s stronger than it looks.”

“All the same, Rickston’s right. Me and Foon should…” Morvin steps on a weak piece of metal near the edge, the railing gives way and Morvin falls towards the engine with a scream.

“Morvin!” “I told you! I told you!”

I turn to Rickston, “Shut the fuck up!”

Foon talks to the Doctor, hysteric, “Bring him back! Can’t you bring him back? Bring him back, Doctor!” “I’m sorry, I can’t.” “You promised me!” “I know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” A group of Host is marching through the halls towards us. “Doctor, I rather think those things have got our scent.” “I’m not waiting.” Rickston starts across the bridge. “Careful! Take it slowly!” There’s a rumbling as the ship rocks and Rickston is nearly knocked off, “Vot help me.” “You’re okay. One step at a time. Come on, you can do it.”

“They’re getting nearer!” The Doctor uses his sonic on the door, “Seal us in.” “Leaving us trapped, wouldn’t you say?” “Never say trapped, just inconviently circumstanced.” “Oh.” Rickston is halfway across, “I’m okay!”

“Maybe he’s all right. Maybe… maybe there’s a gravity curve down there or something. I don’t know. Maybe he’s unconscious.” “I’m sorry, Foon. He’s gone.” I hug her. “What am I going to do without him?” She cries.

“Bannakaffalatta, you go next.” “Bannakaffalatta, small.”

“Slowly!” I call.

The Host are pounding on the door from the other side. “They’ve found us!” “Astrid, get across right now.”

“What about you?” She asks. “Just do it. Go on.” Astrid starts across, “Mr. Copper, we can’t wait. Don’t argue.” Mr. Copper follows, “Abby, go, I’ve got Foon.”

I slowly make my way after the others.

“Doctor, I can’t open the door. We need that whirring key thing of yours!” “I can’t leave her!” “She’ll get us all killed if we can’t get out!” “Mrs. Van Hoff, I am coming back for you, all right?” Foon nods and the Doctor starts across. The metal creaks at the weight of the five of us.

“Too many people!” “Oi! Don’t get spiky with me! Keep going!” “It’s gonna fall!” Astrid cries. “It’s just settling! Keep going!” It becomes quiet as the pounding stops. “They’ve stopped.” I realize. “Gone away?” Bannakaffalatta asks. “Why would they give up?” “Never mind that. Keep coming!” Rickston urges. “Where have they gone? Where are the Host?” Mr. Copper looks up, “I’m afraid… we forgot the tradition of Christmas that angels have wings!” He points.

The Host glide down from above and encircle us. They reach for their halos. “Arm yourselves! All of you!”

We all reach for pipes and metal to defend ourselves as the Host throws their halos. We keep batting them away.

One grazes my arm and another Mr. Copper’s leg.

Astrid falls to her knees, “I can’t.”

“Bannakaffalatta stop! Bannakaffalatta proud! Bannakaffalatta, cyborg!” Bannakaffalatta lifts his shirt and discharges energy, disabling the Host, and all but one fall toward the engines. One falls onto the strut behind the Doctor.

“Electromagnetic pulse took out the robotics. Oh, Bannakaffalatta, that was brilliant!” Bannakaffalatta falls and Astrid goes to him, “He’s used all his power!”

“Did good?” Bannakaffalatta asks.

“You saved our lives.” “Bannakaffalatta happy.” “We can recharge you, get you to a power point, and just plug you in!”

“Too late.”

“No, but… you gotta get me that drink, remember?” “Pretty girl.” Bannakaffalatta takes one last breath before dying.

Astrid goes to button his shirt when Mr. Copper reaches for his power source. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.” “Leave him alone.” Astrid says.

“It’s the EMP transmitter. He-he’d want us to use it.” He removes it, “I used to sell these things. They’d always give me a bed for the night in the cyborg caravans. They’re good people. But if we can recharge it, we can reuse it as a weapon against the rest of the Host. Bannakaffalatta might have saved us all.”

“Do you think? Try telling him that.” Rickston points behind us.

We all turn to see the host that landed on the strut begin to move.

“Use the EMP!” “It’s dead!” “It’s gotta have an emergency…” Astrid takes the EMP from Mr. Copper.

The Doctor confronts the Host, “No, no, no. hold on. Override loophole security protocol… 10! 666! Oh. 21, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8. Um, I dunno, 42! Uh, 1!”

The Host stops mid-motion and stands passively, “Information: state request.” “Good… right. You’ve been ordered to kill the survivors, but why?” “Information: no witnesses.” “But this ship’s gonna fall on the Earth and kill everyone. The human race has nothing to do with the Titanic so that contravenes your orders, yes?” “Information: incorrect.” “But why do you want to destroy the Earth?” “Information: it is the plan.” “What plan?” “Information: protocol grants you only three questions. These three questions have been used.” “Well, you could have warned me.” “Information: now you will die.” The Host prepares to strike the Doctor with its halo when a lasso is thrown over its head and tightened around its body by Foon, “You’re coming with me!”

Foon closes her eyes and jumps over the side, pulling the Host with her.

“NO!” I scream.

We all watch helplessly as Foon falls to her death. “No more.” We make it out and into another set of maintenance halls.

“Right. Get up to Reception One. Once you’re there, Mr. Copper. You’ve got staff access to the computer. Try and find a way of transmitting an SOS. Astrid, you’re in charge of this.” He holds out the EMP, “Once it’s powered up, it’ll take out Hosts within fifty yards but then it needs sixty seconds to recharge. Got it? Rickston, take this.” He gives Rickston his sonic screwdriver, “I’ve preset it. Just hold down that button. It’ll open doors. Do not lose it! You got that? Now go and open the next door. Go on! Go!”

“All right!” Rickston runs off. I take down the first aid kid and hand it to Mr. Copper, “We need you fighting fit. Astrid, where’s the power point?” “Under the comms.” The Doctor and Astrid run to the power point and he shows her how to recharge the EMP.

“When it’s ready, that blue light comes on there.” “You’re talking as if you’re not coming with us.” “There’s something down on Deck 31.” I answer, wrapping my wound, “We’ve gotta find out what it is.” “What if you meet a Host?”

“Well, then we’ll just… have some fun, eh?” “Sounds like you two do this kind of thing all the time.”

“Not by chance. All we do is travel. That’s what we are, just travelers. Imagine it. No tax, no bills, no boss, just the open sky.” He grins.

“I’m sort of… unemployed now, and I was thinking the blue box is kinda small, but I could squeeze in. like a stowaway.” “It’s not always safe.” I say.

“I’ve got no one back on Sto, no family, just me. So what do you think? Can I come with you?”

I look at the Doctor and nod.

He smiles, “Yeah.” The ship lurches again and the Doctor stands and speaks into the comms, “Mr> Frame, you still with us?” “It’s the engines, sir. Final phase. There’s nothing more I can do. We’ve only got eight minutes left!” “Don’t worry, I’ll get there.” “The bridge is sealed off!”

“Yeah, yeah, working on it. I’ll get there, Mr. Frame, somehow.” The EMP turns blue, “All charged up? Mr. Copper, look after Astrid. Astrid, look after Mr. Copper. Rickston, um… look after yourself. And we’ll see you again, promise.” The Doctor grabs my hand and we run off.

We run into a small kitchen and are surrounded by four Host. I grab a pot by the handle, prepared to use it as a weapon.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait! Security protocol one! Do you hear me? One! One!” the Host stop advancing, “Okay, that gives me three questions. Three questions to save my life, am I right?”

“Information: correct.”

“No, that wasn’t one of them. I didn’t mean it. That’s not fair. Can I start again?” “Information: no.” I slap my forehead, “Honey, for fuck’s sake, please think before you ask the last one.” “One question left. One question. So, you’ve been given orders to kill the survivors but survivors must therefore be passengers or staff, but not us. We’re not passengers. We’re not staff. Go on, scan us. You must have bio records. No such person on board. We don’t exist, therefore… you can’t kill us. Therefore, we’re stowaways, and stowaways should be arrested and taken to the nearest figure of authority. And I reckon the nearest figure of authority is on Deck 31. Final question: am I right?” “Information: correct.” “Brilliant. Take us to your leader.” He smiles, “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

The Doctor and I are escorted by the Host to Deck 31. There is much structural damage as well as small fires.

“Now that is what you call a fixer-upper. Come on then, Host with the most, this ultimate authority of yours, who is it?”

Two doors slide open behind us and we turn around, “Ooh, that’s clever. That’s an omnistate impact chamber. Indestructible. You can survive anything in that, eh?”

A vehicle starts wheeling out, “Sit through a supernova or a shipwreck. Only one person can have the power and the money to hide themselves onboard like this and I should know, ‘cause…”

The vehicle is revealed to be a giant life-support system for Max Capricorn who is now just ahead, “My name is Max.” The gold tooth glints.

“It really does that.” I whisper.

“Who the hell are they?” “I’m the Doctor, this is Abby. hello.” “Information: stowaway.” “Well…”

“Kill him.” “Oh, no, no! Wait, but you can’t. Not now. Come on, Max… you’ve given me so much good material like… How to get ahead in business. See ‘head’? ‘Head in business’? No?”

I stare wide-eyed at the Doctor, ‘I’m gonna fucking smack him if we survive this.’ “Oh, ho ho, the office joker. I like a funny man. No one’s been funny with me for years.” “I can’t think why.”

“176 years of running the company have taken their toll.”

“Yeah, but… nice wheels.” “No, a life-support system in a society that despises cyborgs. I’ve had to hide away for years. Running the company by hologram. Host, situation report.” “Information: Titanic is still in orbit.” “Let me see.” Max moves forward and we step out of the way, “We should have crashed by now. What’s gone wrong?” He goes to the edge and looks down at the engines, “The engines are still running! They should have stopped!”

“When they do, the Earth gets roasted. I don’t understand.” I say, “What’s the Earth got to do with this?” “This interview is terminated.” “No, no, no, no, no, no! Hold on! Hold on! Hold on! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! I can work it out. It’s like a task. I’m your apprentice. Just watch me. So… business is failing and you wreck the ship so that makes things worse. Oh yes! No. yes. The business isn’t failing, it’s failed. Past tense.” “My own board voted me out. Stabbed me in the back.” “If you had a back.” I say, “So.., you scupper the ship, wipe out any survivors in case anyone’s rumbled you and the board finds their shares halved in value. Oh, but that’s not enough. No, ‘cause if a Max Capricorn ship hits the Earth, it destroys an entire planet. Outrage back home. Scandal! The business is wiped out.”

“And.. the whole board is thrown in jail for mass murder.” He grins. “While you sit there, safe inside the impact chamber.” The Doctor says.

“I have men waiting to retrieve me from the ruins and enough off-world accounts to retire me to the beaches of Pentaxico Two where the ladies, so I’m told, are very fond of metal.” The Doctor speaks indignantly, “So that’s the plan. A retirement plan. 2,000 on this ship, 6 billion underneath us, all of them slaughtered. And why? Because Max Capricorn is a loser.” “I never lose.” “You can’t even sink the Titanic.” “Oh, but I can, Doctor. I can cancel the engines from here.”

Alarms sound.

“You can’t do this!” I shout.

“Host, hold them.” The Host hold us by the arms and pull us away.

“Not so clever now, Doctor. A shame we couldn’t work together. You’re rather good. All that banter yet not a word waster. Time for me to retire. The Titanic is falling and the sky will burn. Let the Christmas inferno commence. Oh! Oh, Host! Kill them.” The one Host not holding us removes their halo preparing to follow orders.

“Mr. Capricorn!” I turn my head to see Astrid in a forklift, “I resign.” She starts the forklift and rushes towards Capricorn.

“Astrid, don’t!” I shout. Astrid lifts the front of Capricorn’s life support just enough so the tires have no purchase. His rear tires have enough traction to cause a standoff. The Host who was about to kill us throws their halo at Astrid but misses, hitting something else. “He’s cut the break line!” The Doctor realizes.

Astrid looks at us. She stares meaningfully at us before she turns back to Capricorn. She raises the fork higher, lifting Capricorn fully off the ground, and steps on the gas. They both go over the edge.

“Astrid!” I scream.

We run to the edger and see Astrid falling towards the engines, her hands reaching for us.

“Titanic falling. Voyage terminated.” The Doctor and I walk away as sparks fall behind us and fires burn. I grab onto him and he holds out his arms to either side. He snaps his fingers and the host holds his arms and fly us upwards.

With arms raised they break through the floor of the bridge causing Frame to shout.

“Deadlock broken.” We climb through the hole and stand.

“Ah, Midshipman Frame at last!”

“Uh, but… the Host!”

“Controller dead they divert to the next highest authority and that’s me.” “There’s nothing we can do. There’s no power. The ship’s gonna fall.” “Titanic falling.” The Doctor takes the wheel, “What’s your first name?” “Alonzo.” I share a look with the Doctor, “You’re kidding me.”

“What?” He looks at us puzzled.

“That’s something else I’ve always wanted to say. Allons-y Alonzo! Whoa!”

The ship lurches dramatically as the Doctor tries to steer. We fall straight towards the Earth’s atmosphere as Alonzo screams. The Doctor fights with the wheel.

An alarm sounds, and I check it. The computer shows the impact zone to be somewhere in London.

I sigh, “Ah.” I use the comms to ‘dial out’, “Hello, yes, um… could you get me Buckingham Palace?” I get through to a very confused security guard, “Listen to me! Security Code 771! Now get out of there!”

“Engine active. Engine active.” The Doctor pulls back on the wheel, sending Alonzo back against the wall. Straining and bent over backward, the Doctor regains control. I can see from the monitor we’ve barely missed Buckingham Palace.

Once out of danger, the Doctor begins to enjoy steering and laughs.

Alonzo rings the ship’s bell. “Whoo-hoo-hoo!”

The framed picture of Capricorn sparks and falls to the floor.

Alonzo sits on the floor, the Doctor and I join him. “Used the heat or re-entry to fire up the secondary storm drive. Unsinkable, that’s me.”

“We made it.”

“Not all of us.” I pause, “Teleport!” I get up, “She was wearing a teleport bracelet!”

The Doctor and I rush out the door.

We rush into reception, and the Doctor with his hand out, “Rickston! Sonic!” Rickston throws it and he catches it, “Mr. Copper, the teleports, have they got emergency settings?” “I don’t know. They should have.” “She fell, Mr. Copper. She fell. What’s the emergency code?”

“Uh, let me see…”

“What the hell are you doing?” Alonzo asks. “We can bring her back.” The Doctor begins to work on the teleport.

“If a passenger has an accident on shore leave and they’re still wearing their teleport, their molecules are automatically suspended and held in stasis so that we can just trigger the shift.” The Doctor finishes, “There.” He stands and turns around.

A glowing, transparent Astrid appears, “I’m falling.” “Only halfway there. Come on.” He adjusts the inner workings of the teleport. “I keep falling.” “Feed back the molecule grin, boost it with the restoration matrix.” The teleport sparks, “No, no, no, no! Need more phase containment.” “Doctor…” “No! If I can just link up the surface suspension…” “Doctor,” I say softly, “she’s gone.” “I just need to override the safety. I can do it.” “Doctor, let her go.” The Doctor turns to face Astrid’s ghost-like figure. He kicks the teleport in frustration, “I can do anything.” “Stop me falling.” The Doctor walks towards her while we watch.

Mr. Copper stands beside him, “There’s not enough left. The system was too badly damaged. She’s just atoms, Doctor. An echo with the ghost of consciousness. She’s stardust.” He walks closer, “Astrid Peth… citizen of Sto… the woman who looked at the stars and dreamt of traveling. Now you can travel forever.” He opens a window behind her with his sonic screwdriver and she turns into motes of light, “You’re not falling, Astrid, you’re flying.”

The lights go out the window, leaving us.

“The engines have stabilized. We’re holding steady till we get help and I’ve sent the SOS. A rescue ship should be here within twenty minutes. And they’re digging out the records of Max Capricorn. It should be quite a story.” Alonzo tells us. “They’ll want to talk to all of us, I suppose.” “I’d have thought so, yeah.” Mr. Copper wanders over to us, “I think, uh, one or two inconvenient truths might come to light. Still, it’s my own fault, and then years in jail is better than dying.”

Rickston walks over to us, “Doctor… I never said… thank you.” He hugs him, “The funny thing is… I said Max Capricorn was falling apart. Just before the crash, I… sold all my shares, and transferred them to his rivals. It’s made me rich. What do you think of that?”

I look at him, before looking at the Doctor, “Can I?” He sighs, nodding.

I grin, step forward, and knee Rickston right in the crotch. He groans bending over, I hit him in the Adam’s apple and he gasps for breath, hobbling off.

“Of all the people to survive, he’s not the one you would have chosen, is he? But if you could choose, Doctor, if you decide who lives and who dies…” Mr. Copper shrugs, “That would make you a monster.”

The Doctor looks at Mr. Copper, curious at the insight, “Mr. Copper…” He turns to the teleporter and takes three bracelets, “I think you deserve one of these.” Mr. Copper smiles and puts on a bracelet. Alonzo sees, and mouths ‘Hey!’ as he stands.

Mr. Copper chuckles and the Doctor starts the machine. Before we disappear, Alonzo salutes and the Doctor salutes back, forefinger to the forehead.

The Doctor, Mr. Copper, and I walk across to the Tardis, in what appears to be falling snow.

“So, Great Britain is part of, uh, ‘Europee’ and just across the British Channel you’ve got Great France and Great Germany?”

“No, no, it’s just… it’s just France and Germany. Only Britain is great.” “Oh, and they’re all at war with the continent of Ham-erica?”

I wince, “No, well… not yet, uh… could argue that one.” We arrive at the Tardis, “There she is.” I pat her, “Survive anything.” “You know, between you and me, I don’t even think this snow is real. I think this is the ballast from the Titanic’s salvage entering the atmosphere.” The Doctor looks up, “Yeah. one of these days, it might snow for real.” “So, I-I suppose you’ll be off.” “The open sky.” I grin.

“And, uh, what about me?” “We travel alone. It’s best that way.” “What- what am I supposed to do?” Mr. Copper asks.

“Give me that credit card.” I say.

Mr. Copper hands it over, “Well, it’s just petty cash, spending money. It’s all done by computer. I… I didn’t really know the currency, so I thought a million might cover it.” “A million? Pounds?” “That enough for trinkets?” “Mr. Copper, a million pounds is worth 50 million credits.” The Doctor grins at him. “How much?”

“50 million and 56.” “I… I’ve got money!” “Yes, you have.” I hand back the card.

“Oh, my word. Oh my vot! Oh my goodness me! I… Ya-ha!”

“It’s all yours, Planet Earth. Now that’s a retirement plan. But just you be careful, though.” “I will. I will. Oh, I will.”

“No interfering. I don’t want any trouble. Just… have a nice life.” I smile at him. “I can have a house, a proper house, with a garden, and-and a door, and… Oh, Doctor, Abby, I will make you proud.” He hugs us, “And-and I can have a kitchen with chairs, and windows, and lace…” He skips off laughing.

I pause as the Doctor unlocks the Tardis, “Um, where are you going?”

Mr. Copper chuckles, “Why, I have no idea!” “No, me neither.” “But, Doctor, Abby… I won’t forget her.”

I look up at the sky and see a blue streak of light zigzag across. I look back at Mr. Copper skipping away, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Copper.”

#doctor who x reader #tenth doctor x reader #autistic writer #chrysalis story #autistic!reader #doctor who x oc #tenth doctor x oc #christmas special

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me-myself-and-my-fos · 5 months

Text

Life Goes On Without Us

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x @canongf

A/N: Merry Christmas!! I hope you enjoy this fic, Liv!! I’ve had this au idea for a while.

Warning: ANGST

Bucky stood on the porch of the brownstone, hands in his pockets as he stared at the front door. His stomach was in knots, heart in his throat, and mind somewhere far, far away. When Steve told him before he went back under in Wakanda, before everything went to hell and he missed an entire five years, Bucky didn’t know if he wanted to cry or get sick, or both. He knew he missed nearly 80 years of history, an 80 years he could’ve spent living his life. But to find out how much of the world moved on without him was jarring. It felt like a rug was swept from under him, and in all honesty Bucky didn’t want to get back up.

Looking over his shoulder, Steve leaned against the parked car, watching intently as he waited for Bucky to make a move. Instead the super soldier nodded towards the door, giving Bucky silent encouragement to knock. A small groan ripped from his throat as he faced the door and lifted a hand. His fist shook and it took another moment before he knocked. It wasn’t too loud, he didn’t want to scare the people living inside. But it wasn’t light enough that it would force Steve up the stairs and make him do it again. As he waited for someone to answer the door Bucky looked back down to Steve who slowly made his way towards the steps.

“Maybe no one’s home.” Bucky shrugged.

“There’s always someone home with him,” Steve told Bucky.

There was movement on the other side of the door before the lock clicked. The door opened with a squeak, the person on the other side speaking in a thick accent that all Brooklyn natives had.

“Can I help you–” His voice cut off at the sight of Bucky.

The person on the other side had wavy, graying auburn hair and piercing brown eyes, and he was dressed in a mechanic’s jumpsuit. The name ‘James’ was embroidered on the patch. Bucky shifted a little under James’s uncomfortably long gaze and was unsure what to say.

“Hey, James. Is your dad home?” Steve asked, breaking the silence.

James blinked, running a hand over his hair before nodding. Eyes were still trained on Bucky as he spoke. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s in the sittin’ room. Come on in.” He pushed over the screen door and let Steve and Bucky into the house.

Upon entering the threshold they smelt the scent of fresh blueberry pie coming from the kitchen in the back. But in the main room was a large plush couch against the far right wall and several sitting chairs facing it, surrounding a coffee table covered in magazines, newspapers, and crossword puzzle books. Sitting on the couch underneath an old, worn, gray and green blanket with holes patched with various colored thread was an old man. His face was wrinkled and hair white, mostly gone, and a set of large glasses sitting on his nose. He was thin, thinner than the last time Steve had seen him. And the moment Bucky’s eyes laid on the old man he knew who this was and who the man reminded him of.

“Dad, you got visitors,” James announced, voice raised as he closed the door.

The old man looked up curiously, surprised at the news of visitors. But his back straightened when he saw Steve, and ignored the watering of his eyes as he saw Bucky. The old man saluted the pair.

“Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes.” He nodded.

Steve smiled and amused him with a more casual salute. “Colonel Barnes.” Bucky nodded awkwardly. The old man relaxed and leaned back into the plush pillows. “It’s good to see you, Richard.”

Richard gave him a smile. “Always an honor, Captain. Wilma is in the kitchen making some lemonade if you gentlemen want a glass.”

“I’ll get some for them, Dad, don’t worry,” James assured before heading into the kitchen. “Make yourselves at home!” He called out to Bucky and Steve.

Steve didn’t hesitate to take a chair across from Richard, but Bucky stood for a bit longer before taking a seat at the other end of the couch.

“How have you been, Richard?” Steve prompted.

“I’ve been fine,” Richard began, removing his glasses to clean them with the end of the blanket. “Damn cold weather’s been hard on my bones. Old war injuries acting up again,” he explained, putting the glasses back on. “Oh, and Alexander got accepted to Oxford. He started this past August.”

“That’s amazing. He’s a bright kid so I know he’ll do great,” Steve said as James came back into the room with a tray of three drinking glasses and a pitcher of lemonade.

“Who’s Alexander?” Bucky questioned hesitantly.

Richard looked at him. “Your great-grandson.” Bucky shifted uncomfortably as Richard’s attention shifted back to his son. “Jimmy, can you get the box from under my bed and bring it down here?”

“Sure thing, Dad.” James headed up the stairs and Richard looked at Bucky again.

“I thought I’d have to die before I could meet you,” Richard said bluntly as Steve poured three glasses of lemonade.

“If I had known about you sooner I would’ve come by, but Steve only told me recently,” Bucky told him.

Richard shook his head. “He likes to do that; keep secrets before getting the– the balls to tell us.”

Bucky was silent for a moment before asking the one he didn’t want to. But he needed to know. “When did she pass?”

Humming, Richard fiddled with the blanket. “A little over twenty years ago. It broke my heart to bury mom. She– She passed the day after your birthday,” he explained to Bucky, his voice quivering. “I visited her and told her it was okay, she could go. But she had told me ‘Richie, I want to tell your father happy birthday one last time.’ And the next day the nurse called and said she had– she–” He struggled to find the words, and Steve lowered his head. Bucky reached over and put a gentle hand on Richard’s shoulder. Richard took a deep breath and placed his hand over Bucky’s. “She loved you until her last breath.”

“Alright, Dad, I got the box,” James said, coming down the stairs. He walked over to where his father sat and gently rested the box in his lap, lifting the lid and setting it to the side.

“I got it, I got it.” Richard waved him off. “I’m not some frail old man.” He reached into the box and pulled out an old photo album, dark navy with gold lettering faded and material peeling at the corners. Opening it revealed pages and pages of pictures, some black and white others in color. Mostly Polaroids. Richard pointed to the first picture on the first page that showed a very familiar woman to Bucky holding a tiny baby. “After I was born we moved to New York. Mom wanted me close to family.”

“I can’t imagine it was easy for her,” Bucky thought out loud.

“It wasn’t.” Richard shook his head. “But we got by, especially with help. The Howling Commandos weren’t the best babysitters, but they kept me entertained when Mom was working.” He flipped a few pages and pointed to a photo that had ‘Richie’s fifth birthday’ scribbled above it in Liv’s handwriting. “She liked taking me to Coney Island. I loved the coasters.”

“Yeah?” Bucky perked up a bit, smiling. “Me too.”

Richard gave him a mischievous grin, or at least as much as he could muster. “A few times my friends and I would ditch school during lunch and go down to ride them. I got in trouble for that a lot. Mom wanted me to– to focus on my education. But I could ride those coasters from sunup to sun down.”

“Those were the days,” Bucky reminisced. “Steve and I got a few stories from going there. Don’t we Steve?” Bucky grinned at his best friend and Steve let out a breath, shaking his head.

“Don’t remind me,” Steve groaned.

“Um, can I…” Bucky gestured to the photo album and Richard nodded, trying to lift it.

“Of course. Of course.”

Bucky took it and set it on his lap. He flipped through the pages in amazement and sadness of the family he didn’t get to be a part of. Richard pointed at various photos, explaining the stories behind them along with other memories he had.

“And that photo was taken the day I enlisted,” Richard explained. “The day after my birthday. I didn’t tell Mom.”

“Who’s that?” Bucky wondered, pointing to the last photo on the page. It was a young Richard next to a beautiful woman.

“Eliza LeBeau.” Richard smiled softly, a twinkle in his eyes. “My wife. Loved her with all my heart. She passed a few years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You would’ve loved her. Mom did. Eliza was the daughter mom never had.”

“Do you think I’d be able to borrow this? To look at?” Bucky gestured to the photo album.

Richard nodded as he rummaged through the box. “As long as you bring it back.”

He pulled various things from the box to show his father. Metals from his time in the service, other loose photos, various trinkets from his youth and adulthood. Richard was enjoying his trip down memory lane, and Steve noticed how Bucky couldn’t seem to take his eyes off Richard. His son.

“I just remembered,” Richard grumbled, pushing himself off the couch slowly. Bucky placed the album on the coffee table and jumped to his feet, helping Richard stand. “I have something for you.” He grabbed into his cane and gestured for Bucky to follow.

He led Bucky up the stairs and down the hall, passing James and Wilma’s room, a bedroom with Alexander spray painted on the door in orange, and at the end of the hall was a bedroom door slightly ajar. Richard pushed it open and entered the room. His feet shuffled across the warn carpet as Bucky followed, taking in the sight of the room. Pictures were scattered across the walls and dresser, some of a younger Richard during his time in the service, others of the Commandos aged and gray, and a few of Liv throughout her years. Bucky’s eyes were glued to one photo of Liv, eyes still sparkling and beautiful as she smiled radiantly, her vibrant red hair instead a silvery gray.

Richard shuffled across the room to the dresser below the window and opened a drawer. He shuffled through it for a moment before pulling out a book. At first Bucky didn’t recognize it. It looked brand new, but as Richard approached him, holding it out, he realized the pages were stained and worn and old. This wasn’t a new book.

“Mom gave this to me to have. I believe she borrowed this but never got a chance to give it back,” Richard said, gesturing for his father to take the book.

Gently, Bucky took the book and looked at the cover. It was a refurbished copy of The Hobbit; Bucky’s copy. He had given it to Liv to read while they were in Europe and hoped she’d enjoy it as much as he did.

“Did she like it?” Bucky asked tentatively, looking up at Richard.

“She loved it,” Richard told him. “Read it to me before bed every night. We read the whole series together. She never got a chance to watch the movies.”

Tearing up, Bucky replied. “I’m just glad she liked it.”

“I know she’d want you to have it back. I like to think I was keeping it safe for you.”

“Thank you, Richard. I really— I appreciate this.” Bucky wiped a stray tear from his eye.

“I want you come visit whenever you feel like it,” Richard said earnestly. “I’d like to get to know you in whatever time I have left.”

“I’d like that too.” The super soldier nodded.

#mywriting #otp: Lucky #bucky’s wife mutual

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