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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 305: Worst Intervention Ever

Previously on BnHA: Shinomori, whose name took me an entire week to memorize, was all, “nice to meet you Deku, I’m ten feet tall, do you want to know how I died?” and without waiting for an answer explained that he kicked it from old age at forty thanks to good ol’ OFA. Deku was all “wait a minute, then how come All Might, who’s fifty-five and is definitely dyeing his gray hair, is still alive?” First and Shino were all, “we really have no fucking clue but we think it’s cuz he’s quirkless, JUST LIKE YOU!” So basically, since quirkless people don’t exactly grow on trees these days, Deku is probably going to be the last user of OFA. The chapter ended with Nana being all, “psst, Deku, about my grandson. Uh, can you kill him?” which is sure to lead to a very interesting conversation this week.

Today on BnHA: Nana And The Gang are all “so, Deku, how can we put this delicately. The thing is, we’re pretty sure that AFO really fucked my grandson up, so on the off chance you can’t save him, how would you feel about, you know... [throat slitting gesture].” Deku is all “idk you guys, I kinda feel like he’s really just a traumatized child at heart and he’s in a lot of pain and stuff and so I should try to help him.” The Vestiges are all “BUT WHAT IF YOU CAN’T” and Deku is all “BUT I WANT TO TRY, DAMMIT” and the Vestiges are all “well when you put it that way, we, uh, were just testing you, so congrats, you passed!” The chapter ends with First being all, “ANYWAY SO WHY DON’T YOU TWO SHY BOYS STANDING OVER THERE IN THE SHADOWS COME SAY HELLO” before we CUT AWAY FOR ANOTHER WEEK, goddammit.

seriously, Nana

just... have you met Deku?? look, if you really want Tomura dead, just sic him on the U.A. first years and tell Shouto and Honenuki that it’s a training exercise

oh my god lmao

we’re too far away to see Nana’s face here so I will just assume that she turned and is staring DIRECTLY INTO THE CAMERA for this one line lmao. “I just wanted to clarify in case anyone felt inclined to take my dialogue out of context and spend an entire week complaining about it”

oh my god?! are you all purposely trying to make me sad??

someone stop me before I launch into an impromptu rant about all my Tomura feels. WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING ME. oh my god but yes, exactly. he’s just in pain all the time. this is exactly why I think Tomura has such high redemption potential even though so far he seems to lack so many of the redemption arc essentials such as feeling remorse, wanting to change, and taking responsibility for his actions. the reason why I’m willing to overlook all that in his case is because Tomura has essentially had zero agency his entire life. AFO molded him into a killer by making sure he was in constant mental agony, and making it so that the only thing that even slightly relieved that agony was killing peeps. like, please don’t think I’m making excuses for him or anything, but if you take a child and manipulate their existence to make it virtually impossible for that child to grow up as anything other than a killer, and basically never give him the chance to be anything else, then no shit he’s gonna be a killer?? he’s basically never had the choice not to be. it’s never been an option for him. anyways I feel like I am EXPLAINING MYSELF SO BADLY but nonetheless I am prepared to die on this hill

anyway so now Nana is all “that’s a rhetorical question btw because Our Hearts And Minds Are One so we can feel everything you feel bro.” so yeah, that’s interesting

now Banjou is getting started on the “let’s try and talk Deku out of wanting to save Tomura because it’s insane” part of their OFA Mystical Space Void Reunion agenda

look, Banjou, I feel you, I really do. you guys don’t think it’s realistic that Deku can defeat Tomura without killing him. so if it’s a choice between killing Tomura vs letting Deku and everyone else in the entire world die, then duh, you think Deku should kill him. I get it! and if this were a real life mass murderer I’d totally agree with you. but the problem is that this isn’t real life, this is a sympathetic shounen villain with a tragic past who might as well have FUTURE REDEMPTION ARC RECEIPIENT stamped on his forehead at this point

so First is all “look, there’s absolutely no doubt my brother has fucked this kid up good and proper by now”, which, again, fair

though, that’s kind of exactly my point though. everything that Tomura is, everything he’s done, he’s done because of AFO. AFO has so effectively shaped his personality and his worldview by this point that it’s all but impossible to penetrate that. he’s AFO’s puppet. but the problem is that rather than treating him like a victim, you all are treating him like a casualty. like he’s already a lost cause. but good luck trying to convince Deku of that

WHOA WHAT, RANDOM SUPER-IMPORTANT AND BIZARRELY UNRELATED EXPOSITION DROPPED IN JUST LIKE THAT??

way to still not reveal Sixth’s name, btw. THE PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW, DAMMIT. but also so this confirms something we basically already knew already, which is that not even AFO can steal OFA. it literally can’t be taken away by anyone unless the owner wills it. SO SUCK ON THAT AFO YOU EGG

(ETA: so I have no idea why this was omitted from this translation, but apparently the Sixth’s name was revealed as “En”, which is obviously not his full name but at least it’s something. also he most likely has a fire or smoke-related quirk based on the kanji used, 煙.)

so Banjou is saying that Deku’s “lack of an iron will” could be a disadvantage against AFO. hahaha what?? Midoriya “I’ll break all of my bones without blinking an eye just to protect someone” Izuku lacks an iron will? do tell

he says this is going to be a test of Deku’s determination. well yeah, no shit. but just not in the way you guys think

OH HELLO AGAIN

darker hair again here! but I don’t trust the contrast in these scans at all after last week. his coveralls are way darker than they looked before too, and you can clearly see he’s standing in the shadows now

(ETA: yep, once again the raw shows that his hair is considerably lighter than what’s shown in these scans here. although there’s no mistaking now that his hair is consistently being colored in this slightly darker shade, and it’s not just the lighting.)

anyways lol First was saying something about how AFO can’t steal OFA, and they’ve spent all this time cultivating it as the ultimate weapon against AFO, and blah blah blah. go on then, keep lecturing

NANA GODDAMMIT NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT

girl what?? you did everything in your power to protect your family, and AFO, fucked up man that he is, targeted them anyway. there is one person and one person only to blame for what’s happened to Tomura, and that potato-faced asshole needs a good kick in the balls

NANA GODDAMMIT DON’T MAKE ME COME OVER THERE

SO HELP ME GOD!! I WILL GIVE YOU THE BIGGEST HUG YOU’VE EVER HAD!! THAT IS A THREAT

so now Nana is all “I’m just going to call my grandson a Thing to ensure that fandom has only the freshest, grass-fed no-hormones-added discourse this week”

I don’t even need to drop into the tags to know exactly which specific people are going to respond to this, and what kind of posts they are going to write lmao. everyone’s all caught up in the “that thing”, and meanwhile I’m over here completely hung up on this “nay” that’s appeared out of NOWHERE you guys. look at that. she really said “NAY”

Nana, my love, my dearest, I feel you girl I really do. but he’s not an unforgivable manifestation of pure evil, Deku is exactly right actually, he’s a boy in pain. you guys need to stop questioning Deku’s shounen protagonist instincts here and just let him work his sparkly magic. “let’s try and convince Midoriya Fucking Izuku that he can’t save someone” is a plan that is NEVER going to turn out well you guys

“DEKU GODDAMMIT WHAT IF WE CAN’T SAVE HIM” lmao it’s like an intervention

“DAMMIT DEKU JUST ADMIT YOU HAVE A SAVING PEOPLE PROBLEM!”

RED ALERT IT’S ANOTHER CLOSE-UP OF THE BACK OF MISTER TWO BON CLAY’S HEAD OMG

(ETA: I was too distracted with freaking out about Two and Three to really appreciate how ridiculously handsome First looks in this panel. but on my second readthrough it stood out so much that I had to go back and add an extra bullet point just to talk about how hot he is. look at him. wtf.)

THAT IS DEFINITELY AN UNDERCUT. THE PLOT THICKENSSSS. also those are fucking exhaust vents on Mister Three’s neck. MISTER THREE COULD YOU POSSIBLY BE RELATED TO THE IIDAS, PLEASE TELL ME YOUR SECRETS I’M DYING OVER HERE

so now Deku is launching into what will undoubtedly be a “saving people problems require SAVING PEOPLE SOLUTIONS” heroic counter-speech!

I mean, they can already feel the “lol nah I’m gonna try and save him” feelings running through him lol. ~OuR hEaRtS aNd MiNdS aRe CoNnEcTeD~ and all that. this is just a formality, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love a good shounen protag speech

oh wait hold up, do you mean to tell me that the whole “hearts and minds are connected” thing I was just mocking just a paragraph ago actually allowed Deku to feel what Tomura was feeling?? like literally feel it??

YET AGAIN these Tomura feels are pounding on my front door you guys?? they just will not quit?? people my house is already full of feels, does it look like I need you to sell me any more of them?? -- what do you mean, they’re free??

AW YISS THAT’S IT DEKU. THAT’S SOME GOOD SPEECH RIGHT THERE

I appreciate the contrast here between the Douchebag Triumvirate of Overhaul, Muscular, and Stain versus the Misguided Twosome of Gentle and La Brava. never let it be said that Deku doesn’t know the difference between a redeemable villain and an unredeemable one

OH NO -- OH MY GOD

someone please help me I need directions to the OFA Spooky Galactic Nebula Realm in this fictional Japanese manga land. it’s not on google maps. I need to give these two babies a big hug and wrap them up in a blanket and treat them to some McDonalds Happy Meals please help

other things: (1) ENDEAVOR CHILLING OUT IN DEKU’S “PEOPLE I HOLD DEAR” PANEL LMAO NEON DISCOURSE EXTRAVAGANZA, (2) “ONE FOR ALL IS A POWER TO SAVE, NOT TO KILL” I’M ABOUT TO CRY DEKU I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HOW IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE TO FEEL ALL THIS LOVE, (3) [SLAMS HANDS ON TABLE] THERE’S YOUR MOTHERFUCKING IRON WILL!!!!!!!! -- I’m sorry, please don’t call security, I’ll be good

I just randomly remembered that Deku is still saying all of this in his muffled “FMMPHHMMPHMM” voice and I’m somehow cracking up lol. so actually it’s a very good thing Their Hearts And Minds Are Connected, otherwise they’d no doubt be all, “...what?”

(ETA: so I completely missed this on account of it literally not being visible in the scan at all, but in the raw you can clearly see Baby Kacchan and Baby Shouto fanboying over All Might in two of these panels, and excuse me, ma’am??

thank you very much Deku for including them in your montage, particularly since you’ve never seen Baby Shouto before lol. amazingly accurate image you managed to conjure up, all things considered.)

SDKFJLSKHG -- AS IF ON CUE???

HE’S SO ADORABLE HELP?? Trippy Space All Might looks like he’s about to cry, and First is all “don’t crack a smile... you have to be Firm and Serious here... dammit, don’t smile” omg

anyways! YOU GO DEKU. “MY QUIRK MY RULES, BITCHES” damn, son

KLJLKKHLG TRIPPY SPACE ALL MIGHT LITERALLY ACTUALLY IS CRYING ALL MIGHT HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME

“I JUST... [CLENCHES FIST] REALLY LOVE SAVING PEOPLE” FUCKING HELL LMAO THIS IS THE WORST INTERVENTION OF ALL TIME

Deku is literally all “sure, maybe I’ll have to kill him, but have you guys also considered, MAYBE NOT??” it’s no use Nana he’s too powerful

LMAO FIRST

“like I’ve been saying this whole time, you should definitely try saving Shigaraki Tomura.” “but, uh... First, didn’t you just -- ” “shut up”

(ETA: clearly it’s not just his brother who inherited those smooth-talking genes.)

so now Deku has turned back into a sixteen year old and his clothes have gone missing again. just OFA things

dskljdlsklgk

yes... sure... “testing” you...

HEY

FIRST OF ALL, DAMN YOU HORIKOSHI YOU MADE NANA CRY. even if I’m pretty sure they’re actually tears of happiness/relief. and SECOND OF ALL, “TELL MY BOYFRIEND I SAID HI” DJSKDLKJJL ANYWAY MAYBE GRAN, NANA, AND MR. SHIMURA WERE IN A THROUPLE

[SCREAMS]

WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE?? WHY WOULD YOU END IT THERE!!!!!

(ETA: and two-to-one odds that we cut away to some other scene once they finally start to turn around next week. I’M CALLING IT NOW. giving myself a week to brace myself for the rage.)

fucking hell. well if anyone needs me I will be adding Horikoshi fucking Kouhei to the list of irredeemable villains, peace

#bnha 305 #midoriya izuku #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #shimura nana #ofa the first #banjou daigorou #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #'deku. sweetheart. your other vestiges and I just want what's best for you'#'have you tried... *not* saving people?'#only to backpedal SPECTACULARLY when he was all 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOT SAVING THEM'#yeah okay guys #you're not fooling anyone #but it's okay I still love you

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fanfic-corner · 3 years

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Tumblrversary - 21st June 2021

It's official: I've been on this cursed site as this blog for a full year now. I'm not sure what exactly I've gained from the experience, other than more new friends than I can count and whatever the fuck November 5th had going on. Anyway, this is every single thing (of note) I've posted this year for you to peruse at your leisure, but mostly so my dumb ass can find it later :)

Destiel fic recs

My all time favourites

Alternate Universes

Apocalypse/Dystopia AU

Cafe AU

College/Uni AU

Soulmate AU / pt 2

Word Count

Under 2,000 words

Under 10,000 words / pt 2

Episode Specific Fics

15x18 Fics

15x19 Fics

15x20 Fics

Other Ships

Sabriel

Holidays

Halloween

Christmas / pt 2

New Year's

Sexualities

Asexuality and other a-spec identities

Bisexual Dean

Tropes

Bed Sharing

Case Fics

Established Relationship

Major Character Death

Slow Burn

John Winchester is an Asshole

Writer!Castiel

Wattpad

Fluff

Other fic recs

Ineffable Husbands

Natsby

Professor Layton

Cockles

A-Spec Across Fandoms

My writing

After (634 words) - AO3

Dean Winchester was dead.

You Only Live Once (1,238 words) - AO3

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied, his frown matching Sam’s. “What are you doing up?”

“I’m allowed to leave my bed, guys.” Dean pouted, plopping himself safely out of spaghetti splatter range. “I’m only dying. It’s no biggie.”

Heaven's Honeysuckle (2,591 words) - AO3

Dean is only meant to pick up the flowers for his brother's wedding, but the kind man with the blue eyes who works there keeps dragging him back to the small shop.

'I love you' (420 words) - AO3

"I love you."

Dean just stares at him.

All Alright (1,403 words) - AO3

Two people die every second. It was a fact Dean had learnt many years ago, from some shitty game show on some crappy motel room tv. Two people die every second, and Dean couldn’t help but feel like they were always people he knew.

A State of Normal (457 words) - AO3

Slowly, life returned to a state of normal that Dean hardly recognised.

Forever Intertwined (358 words) - AO3

Castiel was no longer an angel of the Lord. He did not have the power to grip anyone tight and raise them from perdition. In fact, for all intents and purposes, he was human.

That didn’t mean that there wasn’t anything he could do while he waited for his love.

nothing ever really ends, does it? (3,397 words) - AO3

Five different endings to Supernatural, because they deserved better. Each one is self-contained, and they are all varying lengths.

Darling, So It Goes (4,652 words) - AO3 / post

When Dean gets asked to be Santa for Jody and Donna's Christmas party, he does not expect it to end with a litre of chocolate milk over a homophobe's head, but he is all too eager to help out a man in need.

Wrapped in Red (7,265 words) - AO3 / post

New at being human, Castiel doesn't know a lot about Christmas traditions, but when a case involves them infiltrating a couple's only Christmas party, Cas wants the full experience.

Including mistletoe.

5 Birthdays Dean Had Without His Angel, and the One With (1,516 words) - AO3 / podfic / post

Six different January 24ths, and how Dean celebrated.

Who We Are (17,331 words) - AO3 / post

It was supposed to be easy: barge into the Empty, rescue Cas, confess his love, be back in time for dinner.

The man Dean rescued was not the Cas he knew.

Suez, My Beloved <3 (507 words) - AO3 / podfic by mistbornhero / post

There has been too much calm in the world.

Season 16, Time For A Wedding! (12,332 words) - AO3 / post

Dean and Castiel are inviting you to share in their celebration of marriage.

+ Dinner and reception after!

Whoever wasn't expecting chaos had clearly never met the Winchesters.

Gay or European ( ADD LATER ) - AO3 / post

When the British contestant for this year's Eurovision Song Contest is suddenly out of the competition, it's left to four Americans and their Irish friend to take the microphone.

Paige, their manager, has not packed nearly enough painkillers for the chaos this trip will cause.

death may love you more ( ADD LATER) - AO3

On a hunt gone wrong, Dean finds himself possessed by an old enemy of the Winchesters. Bela is out for revenge, and she is hell bent on ruining Dean's life through any means possible.

If that means breaking the angel's heart, then, well...

Tumblr Ficlets

Don't Mention It

23 (for an ask game)

Supernatural: The End

"You love her, don't you?" (Thasmin)

Podfics

Building the Michael Sword: Some Assembly Required (10 minutes)

Castiel gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition, everybody and their mother knows that. What is less well-known, however, is that he was also responsible for re-assembling the body.

Which he did with all the grace and patience of a man putting together a particularly difficult IKEA bunk bed.

The Tea is Decaf (25 minutes)

Based on this text post from thebloggerbloggerfun: "Listen, imagine Eileen sneaking out of Sam’s room at night to go to the bathroom or something and steps out into the hallway in one of Sam’s shirts only to see Cas trying to quietly leave Dean’s room while wearing one of Dean’s shirts and they both just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before trying to muffle quiet laughter and now they have a late night club where they talk about life and gossip about the Winchesters in sign language"

And this anon I received: "what if Eileen and Cas discover there are some things Sam and Dean both do in bed because Dean jokingly gave Sam pointers when they were younger and Sam took the advice"

#supernatural #masterpost #my writing #destiel #i just. fuckin. forgot to post this oops-

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suca-loca · 3 years

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it’s been a long year since we last spoke (how’s your halo?)

Read on Ao3

Words: 11.5k

Tags: Hurt No comfort, Angst, No Happy Ending, No beta we die like Wilbur

Warnings: Body horror, Blood, Death, Suicidal Implications/Thoughts, Mentions Of Torture, Beating/Fighting

Author's Note: I tentatively present you all this fic as my ticket to board the Dream SMP Fandom. I took some creative liberties with this, such as hints of Niki and Wilbur being childhood friends, as well as Niki living near Techno's cabin, and making Niki respawning to restock her hunger bar during her spiraling/villain arc one of her canon deaths. Also, despite Niki wearing a new skin she has stated that her character still wears Wilbur's coat. Just adding that in here so people don't comment that I got her outfit wrong during a certain scene. And finally, even though I feel this is obvious, this is about the characters and not the streamers themselves. With that out of the way, enjoy the fic!

Summary:

"Time down here is like stars, Niki. We're dead, dead for thousands of years, but to them," he points up, "we still shine. It'll take light years for them to realize they are staring at just a memory."

She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted where she stands. "Wilbur," she weeps. "How long have you been down here?"

He laughs.

(There was a time it made Niki's heart stop. It still does, but for different reasons now)

"Eleven years."

Niki covers her mouth to stifle a broken cry.

or; Niki tries, unwillingly may she add, the whole being dead thing. Oh, and Wilbur is there to "help"

The worst part about it is that Niki's whole life doesn't flash before her eyes. It doesn't happen in slow motion and neither is there some comforting, bright light for her to walk towards. It's simply this: one second she's at Church Prime and the next she's falling into pitch blackness.

Then again, she should have known better than to expect any of that dumb cliche stuff 'cause it's not like she died or anything. Not really. Her communicator may say she did, but she knows the truth. She was teleported.

So why does this feel like dying?

foolish girl breaking at the seams from using the same stitching of a burning flag to put yourself back together again. you think the afterlife cares how you arrive? the entry fee is the same for all

She comes in screaming and doesn't stop even when that's all she is anymore. Her body is unrecognizable to her, turned inside out, muscles stretching and bending and snapping in an attempt to mimic the shape she once was.

(She wishes her muscles luck in regressing back into a memory because oh primes, oh dear primes did she try, try again to be the girl wore a white and blue uniform with pride, but that girl only exists now in dreams and sometimes nightmares)

But they can't, for her organs and bones and flesh do not know what it means to not be confined (but they should know, they really should, because she still finds it hard to breath in small spaces ever since Schlatt caged her between iron bars and dirt and Sapnap left her in a hole in the ground over a fish) and so they shake. Convulsing and spasming until she is just sound, just an echo of shrieks that are happening in the past or the present or the future depending on how fast it travels down this tight, narrowed cave she lands in.

Wait, lands in?

She finds herself laying flat on the ground. She blinks. Then does it again for good measure to make sure she's not imaging having eyelids.

She touches her face. Feels the crook of her nose, the curve of her chin, and her soft round ears.

It's all skin. No muscle, no tissue, just her.

Still her.

(For now)

Her body is back. Not whole though - never whole - for she will always be a walking empty space within a solid object, but for now, her body is right. Her body is here. She closes her eyes in relief.

Someone is staring down at her when she opens them again.

"Hello Niki," Wilbur says. "It's been a while."

(It's Doomsday. His name shows up on your communicator and so you become a lit match. The fire eats you away just like the bark of a tree, like the walls of a bakery, two things you once loved most, and you're watching them both burn with his coat over your shoulders, which doesn't help you ignore who you must look like, who you're acting like, whose footsteps you're following in; and doesn't it hurt to know that what's before you isn't just a friend but a reflection?)

She's already scrambling back before she's even fully sat up.

She doesn't get very far, not with the way her wrists twist and bend before finally buckling under the pressure, and she can't find the strength to stand up and run. So all that's left to do is hyperventilate at the way his eyes land on her face, roaming, analyzing, absorbing, trying to read her like a book, unaware she's ripped out the pages long ago. At the way his shadow covers her and maybe once it felt like a blanket, but that time has passed, now all it is is heavy, suffocating, pinning her down. At the way he wears his Pogtopia outfit, pressed and cleaned when the last she saw of it it was covered in ash and black feathers and red, so much red.

But it never comes. In fact, her lungs don't move at all. Almost as if she doesn't need to breathe. As if she hasn't been breathing since she's been down here.

Is that why it was so easy to keep screaming?

"You're not here," she whispers. "Not really."

Wilbur tilts his head to the left.

(Does it in a way a predator would while observing its prey from afar, waiting for the right moment to strike)

"Oh? Where am I then, Niki?"

"My head," Niki responds, practically blurting it out. "Yeah - yeah, that's right. This is just my head playing tricks on me again. A horrible horrible trick, but that's all it is. I - I know it."

Wilbur hums. He sits down as if this will take a while. As if she won't blink and he'll be gone. "Well, that's a damn shame. I was hoping it'd be a beach. Mexican Dream has been talking a lot about La Jolla lately. Sounds like a nice place."

He smiles, suddenly.

(No, not smiles, more like baring his teeth. His very normal teeth that give off the impression that they should be very sharp and very large and very deep in her throat right now)

"Let's hope I don't blow it up."

(Niki is shouting for Wilbur over the chaos when her communicator pings in her pocket. It gets hard to breathe as she reads what it says, and it isn't because every inhale of smoke and pulverized concrete from the tumbling buildings poison her lungs. There's a ringing in her ears, and it isn't because of the TNT that just detonated in front of her. She feels broken, and it isn't because the force of the explosion knocks her back and she skitters across the field, hitting rocks and choking on dirt until she stops on her stomach, limbs bent at weird angles. Her communicator lands right beside her, the screen shattered and static flashing, but she can still catch glimpses of what is on the screen, as clear as day, like a taunt: WilburSoot was slain by Ph1lza)

Niki scrambles to her feet, presses herself as much as she can against the walls, and maybe, just maybe, she'll glitch and go through it and suffocate in a block.

She immediately throws herself away from it when she realizes what she just thought.

Wilbur stands with her. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," he says. "I thought it would lighten up the mood. So, how are you?"

"How am I?" Niki echoes. "I'm imagining my dead best friend even though I thought I was getting better and I could have sworn I was, I was I swear I was, and this place, this place, I don't know where this is but it, it just feels - I don't even know why - so familiar and so - "

She pauses.

She looks around.

She was so busy panicking from Wilbur's presence that she never took in her surroundings. She stares at the smooth stone walls, the occasional hanging vines, the little aquarium in the corner right next to the entrance, and, finally, the stand. The stand with two signs on the front that read -

No. It can't be. It just can't.

She won't believe it until she's seen the whole thing.

She walks further in, each step hesitant.

And she notices the way everything around her seems so devoid of life. Almost colorless. Close to numb. She thinks it's her body shutting down, the stress finally getting to her, but no. This is worse. Something's going on. She doesn't know what it is exactly, but she knows it isn't her that's wrong here.

(This time)

Wilbur follows closely behind and, as if to prove her point, his footsteps sound muffled, distant, apart from him, like in the way you hear something underwater.

Maybe she is underwater because everything is getting blurry and her face feels wet.

(Or maybe the better comparison is like hearing something behind glass. She's been tapping against the window of a caravan for months as men in suits discuss a country she bled for just as much as them, if not more, without her. The tapping turns to banging, but it is not the glass that shatters. Not the glass that breaks)

She stills as she catches sight of the small wheat farm in the back room, dried and frail and unkempt.

(Like a flower shop)

It really is her bakery.

"No," she mumbles. Then, more stern, as if it'll blow this place away, as Wilbur should have done the first time. "No no no no this can't… this can't be true. I, I shouldn't be here I - it doesn't make any sense, how how how - "

She whirls on Wilbur, the tears coming in waves now. "What are you doing to me?"

(It's his fault she's back here. It has to be, he's the reason you wanted to burn the memories why this is all gone why this should be gone why isn't this gone gone gone gone)

foolish girl who has become like the nation she despises, you are a crater, there is a hole inside of you where a soul once was and it was caused by your own hands because the only destruction you're good at is your own. you couldn't even kill a child with a nuke, so what makes you think you can end a small room on the side of some hill?

"What do you see?" Wilbur says, and the voice in her head disappears. She can't remember what it said. She shakes her head as if the words will fall out her ears.

Suddenly she can't remember why she's shaking her head.

Her next words come out frail.

"My… my bakery. But how? This shouldn't be possible I, I destroyed it - I - "

"Limbo is different for everybody," Wilbur interjects. "For me, it's a train station."

"Limbo? What are you talking about? What is going on? I was nowhere near L'manburg I was - " Niki's mind blanks.

(Smooth quartz all around her and she feels safe there, that she remembers because there is no killing here, the one place bloodshed does not haunt her, and then crushing disappointment that turns into actual crushing as her body gets shredded, mangled, undone like a ribbon except it does not look pretty)

Wilbur gives her a slicing smile. It cuts her down. "This is the afterlife, Niki."

She blinks. She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted to the spot. "What?"

"The afterlife," he continues, eyes sparkling. "Hell. The void. Eternal darkness. Whatever you wanna call it. I call it home."

"Home?" She repeats, shakily.

foolish girl with no place, no one to call home because she's an expert at finding comfort in things that don't stay, of course he sees this place as home. Although if he really wanted to surround himself in emptiness so bad then he just needed to wait a few months for you to become just that

"I'm not dead," she mutters. She attempts to laugh, because if she laughs then this will sound like a joke. Wilbur would joke about such a thing. After all, he poked fun at exploding L'manburg just a while ago. So of course this is a joke. It has to be. It is, and she will not allow her breakdown to be the punchline.

At Wilbur's unflinching smile she says it again, with more conviction. "I'm not!"

"How else do you think you're talking to me? How your bakery is still in one piece? Sorry to be your grim reaper Niki, but you're dead. And now you're here, in the afterlife, with me!" He leans in close, close enough that she should feel his breath on her.

There is nothing. He is nothing.

(And maybe, so is she)

"Isn't that great? We're together again! You and me, just like the old days. And look," His eyes glance at what she wears. It's the coat. Specifically, Wilbur's coat, wrapped around her shoulders.

"We're even matching," he coos.

She thinks she might scream.

She throws herself away from him, almost throws the coat too, but into the furnace next to her.

('I gotta burn the memories I need to destroy it I need to destroy it I need to destroy it,' she once screamed to no one but herself. History repeats itself)

How she ever found comfort in this ratty, old coat she'll never know. And she'll never care to find out. Not when Wilbur is acting like this, like before, like a loose city wire, all dangerous and unpredictable, each word an electric spark, and Niki is trying not to get stung. She remembers how that story ended.

But her's will not end. Not yet.

"I can't be dead," she argues. "I don't remember that I would remember something like that so I - I can't be dead, and I have two lives left so, no, no I can't be I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive and I'm in bed I'm alive I'm alive I'm alive and you're not real, just a nightmare. I'm alive I'm alive I'm - "

"It's really me, Niki," Wilbur says, and the fire from the furnace roars in response as if his words fan the flames. It's the first time something in this wicked place has felt alive. "In the flesh. Or, rather, a close imitation of it. I think my corpse must have liquified by now, swelling up for months before bursting open, leaving nothing but a skeleton behind. What about you? What did you leave for them to find?"

She covers her ears. "Stop! Stop it stop it stop it!"

"Remember it. Remember your last moments."

"Wilbur, please - "

"Feel your wrist," he says. No, orders. And she does. Because she, at her core, is still his soldier.

(She says that she is loyal to him and he responds by saying he wants her to be loyal to L'manburg. She remembers being confused, for she saw them both as the same. Wilbur is L'manburg and L'manburg is Wilbur, one cannot coexist without the other. A few months later, amongst the wreckage of her nation and a father's anguished screams, she'll realize too little too late how true her statement holds)

She doesn't find her heartbeat.

For a second she thinks she made a mistake. That she has her fingers in the wrong place, but no. A soldier knows where to look for life so that they may snuff it out. She can't be making a mistake.

Still, she presses her fingers down, harder this time, nails first, that blood draws, and sobs as she's still met with nothing.

She has no heartbeat.

She is dead.

She chokes. She clutches her chest, not because it hurts to know what she lacks in her chest, but because she remembers. Remembers it so intently, remembers it happening in the snap of a finger, literally, from a smiling God (and maybe it is quite a fitting end, for she goes out the same way she lived, giving second chances to men who don't deserve it) and how the world tilted as the ground slipped away.

But what's worse is the realization that comes after.

"I didn't leave anyone anything to find," she says.

Wilbur raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I didn't leave anyone anything to find because I didn't die," she says again, but weaker. More horrified. "I was teleported. I was on the holy lands when - "

"Teleported?' Wilbur interrupts. His features, just a second ago, eccentric and mad, turn curious. "Wait wait wait, hold on a second, are you telling me you were sent to Hell, Hell, on the fucking Holy Lands? "

Niki weakly nods.

It goes silent.

Suddenly, a snort. A snort that does not sound like it once did, back before the war for independence, before the election, before banishment, before it all, when all there was was a caravan and the worst of their worries was getting Sapnap a vegan hotdog. It's meaner, more shrill, and laced with a madness that seems to roll off his tongue so easily nowadays.

If she weren't watching how hard Wilbur's shoulders shake she'd have never guessed such a sound would come from him.

But there's something else about this snort that chills her to the core. Although she never could have imagined it coming from Wilbur doesn't mean she hasn't heard this kind of laugh before.

It's almost breathless, almost like something left on a stove, steaming, almost like the sound of -

(Dream and Wilbur worked together, both wanted L'manburg gone, both almost killed a kid, both cut off attachments, both lost trust in others, all things Niki has done too, and if Niki is like Wilbur and Wilbur is like Dream then that means - )

(No. Please, no)

"That is -," Wilbur wheezes, wiping away a tear. "That is horribly ironic."

"DreamXD!" She shouts, head tilted up. "Take me back! Take me back right now!"

Wilbur shakes his head. "Oh, no need to try that. I've been there. The whole shouting for help thing? Yeah, will do you no good. No one can hear you down here."

"DreamXD! I'm here!"

"Scream all you want, prime knows you don't need to breathe down here so nothing's stopping you from doing it for forever, but when your screams are all you hear for eternity… well, it'll drive any person mad."

"DreamXD," she shrieks. And her lungs don't shake, don't even give a small quiver, she knows it. Nothing in her does, for the gears don't need to be turning to keep this machine of a body that's been on autopilot since an explosion knocked her off her feet alive anymore. "Please!"

"You stop talking after a few years of just endless screaming for your voice becomes a reminder of your entrapment. But then the silence itself, after a few years, is unbearable. Yet you don't dare speak or make any noise, so it's just madness of a new kind."

She pushes her way past him and makes her way to the exit of her bakery. "I - I liked the magic trick, DreamXD! I really did! You - you can teleport me back now!"

"Too scared to make a noise, but too scared to keep quiet. So you stand still. Your body deteriorates, muscles numb from lack of use, and all you do is use your nails to scratch marks onto the walls to mark how many years have passed since… since absolutely nothing."

She stills. She slowly turns around.

(L'manburg is surrounded by a wall. A wall so mighty and tall she never thought she'd see the day it'd be torn down, much less by its own inhabitants. But this wall right here, the one between her and this old friend, this is a wall that will never meet the same end as its predecessor)

"Wilbur," she whispers. "What do you mean by years?"

Silence.

Wilbur has a far-away look in his eye.

(That look was born in a dirt hole on the side of a small hill and Niki doesn't learn that lesson for she builds her bakery in a similar place. Two places, so small, so cramped, started with hope, have become their worst downfalls, their unfinished symphonies. She parallels him in all the wrong ways)

She tries to take a step back, but she's rooted where she stands. "Wilbur," she weeps. "How long have you been down here?"

He laughs.

(There was a time it made Niki's heart stop. It still does, but for different reasons now)

"Eleven years."

Niki covers her mouth to stifle a broken cry. She was paralyzed before but now, with fear pumping through her veins, she runs. Fear is a more dependent motivator than strength or bravery could ever be, for fear, unlike any other heroic emotion, can't be beaten out of you. Can't be threatened out of you by a friend on your birthday as you try to stop him from pressing a button. Fear only grows, like a weed, you can try to get rid of it all you want, but it multiplies the more you struggle.

She finally gets to the exit, nearly throwing herself at it, only to find a stone wall staring back at her. It's been cemented shut.

She's trapped.

(She is in a cage, a zoo animal for Manburg citizens to point and laugh at. It is cramped, it is humiliating, and it is her home, her everything in wake of becoming nothing to people she once considered friends, Schlatt tells her. Until Quackity frees her. But there is no one to free her now. Except herself)

She pulls up her sleeves and begins mining with her bare hands.

She's been torn apart before, but at least it was quick. This, the way her flesh slowly peels off at each scratch is its own kind of torture. Not because it's painful, but the torture in knowing what you're willing to do to yourself just to see the sky again.

She keeps going.

(She does not throw up at the sight of chunks of flesh dangling where nail once was because she is a soldier and she has seen worse. Seen a child trapped in a box screaming for help and she's unfortunate enough to have a seat in the splash zone. Helped patch up Ponk's wound where his arm should be, afraid she might lose him to blood loss because whoever chopped his arm off didn't cut across the joint to avoid the bone and therefore had to hack again and again and again to get through the bone. Sewed Fundy's head back together from when Schlatt beat him over the scalp with a beer bottle before dying in the caravan; it took a couple of hours to finish because his fur made it hard to spot the bits of glass sticking out his skin. This is not the first or last time she will wash blood off her clothes, she just has to hope it will continue to be someone else's and not her own)

Wilbur comes up beside her. He doesn't even try to stop her, much less flinch at all the red on the wall. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it. Tommy did."

She snaps her head to him, her clawing ceasing. "Tommy was here?"

He nods. "Arrived a few years ago. I have to admit, when a space opened up here I thought it would be him again, not you. Not that I'm complaining. Don't get me wrong he's a good kid but, well, you know how Tommy gets."

(Everyone you've ever hated, everyone you've ever sworn to end; Schlatt, Tommy, and although you do not hate Wilbur or Jack you're relationship with them is complicated because they remind you of when you spiraled, you lot are all connected now, bound together from sharing the similar experience of death. She can never separate herself from them. Will be rever grouped in with the people she can't stand most)

"How long was Tommy here for?" She asks softly.

Wilbur clicks his tongue. "Two months I think."

She closes her eyes.

(She wanted to look deep into the crater Tubbo's nuke made and confuse Tommy's charcoal, burnt body for obsidian. She wanted to catch Tommy's choked last breaths in a bottle and get drunk on it every night. She wanted to leave spruce wood on his grave as a sort of flag marking her latest conquest. She wanted to stop thinking that if Wilbur was wrong for believing in Tommy then that means he might have been wrong for believing in her)

She doesn't want Tommy dead anymore and although they're still not friends even she wouldn't wish this on him.

"Two months," she says, and it sinks in.

Is that how long she'll have to wait until someone comes looking for her?

That is if someone even cares to look.

(Puffy doesn't respond to any of her messages after their first date. She turns Jack away when he tries to pull her back into the obsession of caving Tommy's head in. Everyone grieving L'manburg remembers her setting L'mantree aflame. Anyone in the Eggpire is too far gone to even care about themselves. She doesn't have a Tubbo. Isn't anyone's disk. She's just Niki, forgotten, ignored Niki, the first ghost of the server before Ghostbur. Why spare a glance at someone transparent? Someone, not all there?)

No one will come for her.

Wilbur cracks his fingers, and Niki winces, for her bones are still on flesh display and slowly repairing. "Well, now that we've played twenty questions let's move on to a new game. You up for some solitaire?"

She rises to her feet and numbly nods. She might as well have something to do to, to try and prevent the inevitable insanity with a card game.

Might as well accept her fate.

Wilbur reaches into his pocket and pulls out the cards. He sits down on the ground. "Sorry," he says. "I'd offer we play on a table but there are no tables in a train station and I doubt your bakery has one either." He hands her half of the deck. "Help me set it up."

But Niki doesn't take them, for she's focused on the word table because -

(There's a table, a weird table, made up of this block she's never seen before. It's sponge-like, with a hole on top decorated by a blueish-green frame, and she's about to ask where they found it when Phil suddenly apologizes for exploding her bakery. At her shocked expression, he explains he'd like to air out all possible tensions before starting their first-ever official Syndicate meeting so that no past grievances keep them from working as an effective team. Techno merely snorts, saying it's not their fault her bakery was on government land, and Phil responds by shooting him a glare fit for his title as Angel of Death. She'd have laughed, she'd have cried because such a look was once how Phil got Wil to eat his vegetables if it weren't for the fact she tells them they have nothing to apologize for. Tells them she left the oven on the day before the attack and by next sunrise, it was already burnt to the ground. Ranboo doesn't blink once from where he sits across from her as she talks. She sees in his eyes that day, how her laughs and her wails blend in with the chaos around her, as if it belongs there, as if she is one with it. And maybe she is, for the fire that consumes her bakery grows and grows and grows but Niki just gets smaller and smaller and smaller as if she has to sacrifice bits of herself to keep the fire going. Perhaps she is, for every monster requires an offering, and her bakery is that. A representative of the old her burning alive to make room for the new, merciless, unhinged her. Good. She looks down at the flint and steel in her hand and in the reflection of the metal she sees a boy with mismatched eyes standing behind her, staring. And then he takes out his book and writes. It feels like Ranboo has placed a noose around her neck. The memory fades and she holds her breath. She waits for him to say something, to call out her lie. This time, Ranboo undoes the knot. He looks away)

Because she needs to tell Ranboo she appreciated his silence that day. Needs to joke about how all this snow reminds her of an ice cream shop and watch Ranboo nervously laugh as she lightheartedly punches him on the shoulder.

Because she needs to know how that story Phil was telling her about his adventures with Techno on another server, something about an Antarctic Empire, ends. Needs to feed the crows with him to make sure he doesn't stare at their wings for too long.

Because she needs to braid Techno's hair one last time while they talk about how pink is clearly the superior hair color. Needs to thank Techno for giving her these becauses, for they wouldn't exist in the first place had he not offered her a place in the Syndicate.

Ironically enough, she always knew she'd die before she could give back all that she owed them. But only because what she owed them was too long a list, too difficult to be expressed in any way that captured what they deserved.

(Somewhere, in a snow biome, there is a family. They're different from each other, too different at times, and yet Ranboo and Techno could wear each other crowns, each fitting perfectly on their heads and no one would know of the switch, except for Phil of course. Right now they're probably looking at their comms around the dinner table, confused by the last message. 'Nihachu fell from a high place.' They aren't worried. Not yet. But in a couple of days, months for her, they'll start to pace. Phil will stand at the edge of the roof, ready to step off, only to remember he doesn't have wings, can't look for her high up in the sky like he used to when she was a kid. Ranboo will force himself through experiments, lose sleep, break himself in, trying to learn how to teleport so as to cover ground faster in the search, to do more than just let his powers go to waste when they could be what brings her home. Techno will grab her rainbow sweater and put it to Steve's snout, but the trail will go cold every time until eventually all of Niki's clothes don't smell like her anymore. They'll do this every day. Nothing will change but their hope, dwindling away each day. So will they just stare at that last message, her unintentional goodbye, looking for some sort of explanation? For some secret message? Some coordinates until they go mad? They won't think she's dead until they've found a body. Won't stop looking, won't leave a corner of the server untouched. Won't stop till they have something to bury)

She can't do that to them.

She slaps the cards out of Wilbur's hands.

"No," she growls, trying to sound tough and less like a kid throwing a tantrum. Perhaps slapping the cards away was not the best start. "I am not going to waste my time playing Solitaire when I could be spending it finding a way back home. And I will if it's the last thing I do."

Wilbur frowns. Niki has the inkling suspicion it has more to do with the cards being all scattered about than from her declaration. "There is no 'last thing I do anymore.' You dying was the last thing you'll ever do. All you have now is this. This is your forever. Our forever."

She turns away from him, just for a second. Away from the sight of his furrowed brows and the crinkles in the space between them where her index finger would go to poke as she teased him. Away from the scrunch of his nose she would joke made him and Techno finally look like twins. Because despite everything, despite all the months that have settled into their bones since the last they saw each other and the wars they've fought on land and in their minds, it's still Wilbur's face. But only in the physical sense. After that, he stops being her Wilbur.

This would be so much easier if his face had physically morphed into a stranger, to prove to her how much he's changed, what he's become over the months, is not all in her head.

Somehow, she finds a way to start.

"You know, not too long ago I'd have stayed with you here. I wouldn't have even put up a fight. I'd have just laid down, closed my eyes, and let the vines on these walls grow over my body until I was just moss. I was… I was so tired, Wilbur. A part of me always will be. I understood. I finally got why you acted the way you did. There was a time I was on half a heart and instead of eating I would - "

Her body begins to shake so hard she almost expects to look down and she cracks in the ground from an incoming earthquake. The only cracks see she's are her own.

She can't say it. Not like that. Not yet.

" - I would respawn to restock the hunger bar," Niki chokes out instead.

(She respawns with dried blood on the back of her head and bones still rattling from the fall. Along her jutting spine, in an almost perfectly straight line that could be confused for an unkempt path lost to weeds and drought, are bruises. She doesn't feel them. All she feels is the urge to do it again)

She blinks and her hand is in her hair, looking for the bump. She pulls her hand away as if it's a hot furnace. "But I can't stay. Things have changed. I've changed. This is not the first time something dark has tried to consume me, but I can't let it win this time. I can't let this place turn me numb and unhinged, or worse, content. Not when I have people to go home to. Not when - "

She looks down at her hand, the one that traced her scalp, and sees it has clenched into a fist.

(At the count of three, Niki throws rock. She groans as she notices all the other hands make paper. Ranboo and Techno exhale as if the losing sentence wasn't shoveling the front lawn, but death. Or worse, going shopping with Phil for a refrigerator to put in the Syndicate meeting room. Ranboo lost that one. Niki points at Techno's hooves and says it's cheating since they can't ever tell which shape he chooses. She demands a rematch with the same tone one uses to declare war. A few minutes later, they're shouting, going over the rules of rock, paper, scissors, and they only stop when Phil comes home and pulls out the dad voice. They begrudgingly agree to do a rematch another time, once they've cooled down. That was yesterday)

She holds her fist close to her heart. The hand was never her rock, it was always three men in a snowy cabin, handing her a mug of hot cocoa. "Not when I have a lawn to shovel."

Silence.

Then, Wilbur sighs. "You know," he says. He places his arms behind him and leans back to get a better look at her. Somehow, even on the ground, he looks to hold all the power. "Years ago your determination would have been a sight for sore eyes, but here's a reality check. I've been here for almost a dozen years. Eleven years of letting the passing train rip right through me in the hopes it would send me to another layer of hell or maybe propel, heck, even drag my body to the next station. But every time I'd wake up back in the train station as if nothing had happened. Like my body breaking under the wheels was nothing."

He is an avalanche, growing and picking up speed with each word, and Niki realizes, too little too late, she's about to be buried alive. She tries to step back, but Wilbur is up quick and approaching. "There is no escape. The limbo is our stage and we have our lines, our cues, but we do not have a curtain call. We just keep going and going, an endless loop. You can't not play your part. It won't let you."

"I have to at least try," she says.

"Why? What's the point? They'll never know you tried."

Her fear turns to disgust. "Is that why you think I'll try? For the sole reason that one day they'll know what I've done for them? That's far from the truth."

(People built statues of Tommy, for all he's done, for all the influence he had on this server. Niki knows they will not give her the same treatment. But that's fine, more than fine. All she needs is a grave in the snow, beside a little cabin)

She didn't want to look at Wilbur's face before, but now, glaring at him straight on, all she sees staring back is Phil.

The day they found out Wilbur didn't inherit Phil's immortality was the day Phil looked like he should, centuries-old instead of thirty-three, the age when angels stop physically aging. Niki will never forget how deep the lines on Phil's face ran. They might as well have been cracks. And maybe it was, for Phil was breaking as he held his dying son - not dying now, but for an immortal, every second a mortal breathes is just inevitable death - in his arms.

But what still haunts Niki the most after all these years are his eyes. They carried the weight of the world in them. She could feel it, even now, pressing down on her shoulders. All the wars, the fall of cities, the birth of them, children with big smiles and even bigger graves.

Niki was not a soldier yet. She was just a nine-year-old girl who wanted to sleep over at her best friend's house.

She threw up in their sink and they mistook it as her reaction to the news. She didn't correct them.

The only reason she slept easy that night was from the knowledge she would never see those eyes on Wilbur's face. And yet, lo and behold, here it is, like a punch to the gut.

Except now, Niki has had time to numb herself to it. It's hard to get surprised by such a dead look when it's on the face of your roommate.

(Phil's screech - no, not a screech, a caw, high pitched and grief-stricken - is like an alarm clock. Except, instead of Niki waking up to the rising sun outside her window, it's to moonlight and blinking stars. This is the fifth time this month she's met Ranboo and Techno outside Phil's cabin, armed to the teeth, ready for war. The door creaks open, loudly, but they don't wince, for they know it won't wake him. Nothing really does when he's in this state, except for one thing. Techno holds him down and it's weird, will always be weird, to see Techno use such force, such retaliation, on Phil of all people, and then Phil nearly throws Techno through the wall with just a brush of his fingers, and she remembers it's necessary. This isn't Phil they're dealing with, it's the Angel of Death. It takes a while until Techno can get all of the Angel's limbs down, but even then they know it won't last long, and that's when Niki throws a slowness potion on him. Ranboo, meanwhile, turns around all the photos of Wilbur in the room, a safe distance away. They told him it's best he handles that since he's built like a stick, putting him anywhere near a powerful avian would be an accident waiting to happen. It definitely has nothing to do with them freezing up whenever they see Wilbur's smiling face, all happy, and so very alive. Phil's movements turn sluggish as the potion kicks in and Niki holds his face, murmurs soft words, and Techno gives his own weird, but comforting, comments. Something about how Phil can't afford to lose sleeping beauty to these night terrors, what with his old age. Niki snorts. Phil's eyes open immediately. Phil sucks in a sharp breath, like he's forgotten how to breathe, his fist clenching and unclenching. The eyes are back. Based on Techno's face Niki knows then she's not the only person that has seen them. They look at each other, nod, and hold him as he cries. They don't need to ask. There's only one person that could cause such a look. They force Ranboo, who is awkwardly standing to the side, to join. Eventually, they break apart, and Techno coughs. He says he hates them for making this all emotional and bans such an awkward event from ever happening again. And yet, when Phil keeps waking up with eyes too dark around the corners, Techno is there. And so is she and Ranboo)

She will not be the reason Phil's eyes age another year.

"It's about Phil, Techno, and Ranboo deserving someone who will never stop trying to find their way back to them," she says, with conviction. "I'm sorry you're too twisted to see not all actions stem from reward or acknowledgment."

She expects a laugh, a glimpse at his forked tongue spewing words so sweet she could use them as sugar in her desserts, only to take a bite and realize it was salt all along. But what she gets is silence. The type of silence before a storm.

"Phil?" Wilbur whispers.

Niki closes her eyes.

She should have never said their names.

She also should have never opened her eyes again, because Wilbur is looking more like Phil each second. Not because of the eyes. No, worse. Because she sees a boy, a boy with his arms spread open wide and flapping about in an attempt at mimicking his father's wings, and they're both running around in circles in the backyard as he tells her how she'll never have to walk anywhere ever again. He'll carry her when she's tired, when she's not tired, whenever she wants wherever she wants. They stop running around in circles flapping their arms when too much time has passed and his wings still haven't grown in, but the acceptance that it never would did.

She blinks and the memory is gone. Slipping through her fingers like sand.

"How is he?" Wilbur says. His voice wavers a bit. He hides it quickly with a cough, but Niki catches it. Niki thought she always would.

(But then a button was pressed and she realized just how untrue that was)

Niki hesitates. She thinks about the night terrors again. She almost mentions them but falters as she remembers Ranboo telling her how it was Phil who gave him a place to stay after L'manburg was blown up for the last time. How as Technoblade hibernates there's a blanket over his shoulders that wasn't there before and a stick missing from the fireplace. How he always places Niki's plate of breakfast down before the others, as if he knows of her first canon death.

He is a kind man, but that is not why he does these things.

"He misses being a father," she settles on.

Wilbur's shoulders slump. Somewhere, in a different life, Niki's hand is there, squeezing comfortingly. "Is he… is he mad at me?"

"No." She answers quickly. "He's just tired, Wilbur. We all are."

Wilbur laughs. It sounds defeated. Mournful. "Understatement of the fucking year."

He slumps against the wall and Niki is sure it's the only thing keeping Wilbur on his feet. His head hits the smooth stone when he suddenly throws his head back and laughs. Niki doesn't know if she winces from the loud crack the impact makes or from the shrill, unhinged laugh.

"I told him to kill me," Wilbur chuckles. His eyes are blinking rapidly. "I told him to fucking kill me."

(The diamond sword has collected dust. Sometimes, everyone jokes, Phil looks like he has to. Playful teasing about how he's a walking antique that should be displayed in a museum. Phil always laughs them off. But it's moments when he stands too still, alone in his thoughts for too long, that Niki wants to put him behind glass with signs that say 'do not touch,' because all it takes is one gust of wind for an artifact to shatter. But that is no way to live and Phil is not so easily breakable. Worn down a bit, rusted from the loss throughout the eons, yes - who hasn't on this forsaken server? - but not breakable)

Niki thinks she might throw up. "I know."

Wilbur looks at her. His eyes are red, but there are no tears. "You said you understood me. You get why I had to ask him to do it."

"Wilbur - "

" - And so you also understand why you have to stay here."

"What?"

"We've changed Niki," Wilbur starts. "For the worse. Don't you feel it? How that server has destroyed every cell in our body? A slow painful death eating us from the inside out until we've just withered away into someone new, someone unrecognizable?"

(Niki feels she's in a never-ending house of mirrors. Constantly encircled by reflections that are her and not her staring back, each representing different points in her life. Some are unrecognizable, stretched, or squished beyond identification, like a fuzzy memory of a girl carrying a backpack, skipping down a path she was told by a best friend would lead to a nation with yellow and black walls. Some are too terrifying, demonizing her features, giving her slits for eyes and claws for nails holding flint and steel over TNT. All of them she wants to smash)

Wilbur either ignores the horrified expression on her face or doesn't see it. "We killed our old selves as a sacrifice, an offering, to the monster we saw lurking in the edges of our mind. And once you let the monster in there's no going back. All we know from then on is to destroy, to rip apart all we once held dear with no remorse until there's just ash and dust. We thrive, no, revel in it."

(Nemesis, she names herself. Goddess of divine retribution and revenge. Maybe that's who Niki sacrifices herself to. Why she felt such an attachment to the name. A remorseless Goddess said to have led Narcissus to a pool, knowing full well he'd be too captivated to leave his reflection for food or warmth. He died there. It's no coincidence a few weeks before she lived the story herself, leading Tommy to his death in the form of a hot blast of air at the speed of light and seeing it as justice)

"I'm not having this conversation with you," she says, voice shaking. She whirls around, nearly tripping over her feet, fully willing to ignore him as she looks for an exit.

But his next words make her go still.

"Phil didn't know what I'd become. That's why he had to be the one to do it."

She winces. "Don't."

"He didn't even pull out the sword, his arms were too busy holding me, holding me, as if the shape of me still fit against his chest even though I felt so hollow, so much thinner - "

"Wilbur - "

" - he stroked my hair too. Even though it was dirty and unkempt and a mess like everything else about me and I'm pretty sure his fingers got stuck a few times he just wouldn't stop untangling each knot with such care and precision that I remembered my last thought being - "

"Wilbur - "

" - could he have brushed away all the knots and twists in my soul like this? Cleaned me up on the inside like he's doing on the outside? I thought I went crying, Niki. Maybe I did. I'll never know because all I felt was his tears ricocheting on my face - "

"Stop - "

" - he tries to wipe them off. He's cursing at himself, apologizing profusely through hiccuping sobs and, and I don't understand why he's so sorry when it feels like, like when he'd lick his fingers and scrub the grimes of our faces after we played outside too long. Do you remember that Niki - "

"I don't wanna - "

" - because I do. We'd screech so loud, saying it was disgusting and unsanitary as we slapped his hand away and ran, but he'd always catch us a second later because of his wings. I don't wanna run away this time. I'm relishing it, craving every stroke because I'm starting to go cold - "

"Please - "

" - and I wish you weren't teleported here. I wish you had died instead - "

"Wil - "

" - so you would know, so we could relate to what it feels like for the limbo to claim you. To mark you. It's like, it's like being mutilated over and over again. A mallet to your bones, a hole in your brain, everything from your skin to your tendons unraveling before you - "

"Wil listen - "

" - spilling out and about like confetti, and you, you are confetti! You're shredded pieces, everywhere and nowhere all at once, and just as the mangling begins it stops, replaced by the limbo trying to put you, no, force you back together again. It's the same sensation, but in reverse, almost a loop, a tunnel with no light at the end, and all you can do is scream - "

"WILBUR SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!"

Something shatters

Wilbur falls silent.

Niki looks down. There is a puddle, slowly growing at her feet. She looks to her left. Her hand has punched through the aquarium. Blood trickles down her hand, some get over the glass. She doesn't pull her hand away.

"You never listen," she mumbles, but it seems so loud to her ears. "No one does. No one wants to. I talk and I talk and I talk and yet no response. Not even from the wind. I am a voice box stuck on rewind, repeating myself as life moves on without me."

Niki can hear her voice ring down the bakery, bouncing around with nowhere to settle. Until it does, in Niki's chest, rattling, crackling like a fuse has been lit, and perhaps it has, for her anger feels sizzling. "You used to always say how words were powerful. How they could stop wars, how they could build nations." She lets out a laugh. It burns her throat. "But what would I know?! You and everyone else never gave me a chance to use my voice! Always talking over me whatever chance you could. Even before Pogtopia you walked all over me! Even when I was screaming at top of my lungs you'd - "

She gasps. The glass presses deeper into her skin as her hand trembles. She does not feel it. "Oh primes, oh primes Wil, didn't you hear my screams? I came here screaming, Wil. I, I do know what it feels like for the void to take you. I still feel it, even now, why, why do I still feel it - "

Wilbur staggers to his feet, so quick he promptly falls. He catches himself halfway on Niki's wrist.

His hand scratches on the glass. He doesn't even flinch. Their blood mixes.

(They are one)

He doesn't even grip too tight, and yet it hurts. Stings. "You do understand," he grins. Wide, too wide for his face, that she almost expects his nose and eyes to sink into his skin to make more room. "You do, you do oh thank primes. I'm not alone in this. I've been alone for so long but now, now you're here and you understand! Oh, Niki, I'm so happy you're here."

"You're… happy, I'm here?" She mutters. "You're happy I'm dead?"

He nods frantically. "It's more than that Niki," he says. "DreamXD, whoever that man is, he's my hero for sending you here."

(Parallels between Wilbur and Dream and her and now Wilbur and Dream and DreamXD no no no she can't be them she can't she can't she won't she won't - )

"You don't mean it," she cries. "You don't mean that Wil. Say you don't mean it."

The grin, somehow, becomes wider. She realizes then his eyes don't have to disappear. They're already gone. Replaced by a black hole, too dark in the corners and its gravitational pull making it hard to look away even though she knows staring at it too long will get her sucked into an endless void.

He leans in close like he's sharing a secret. "I only wish he had sent you here sooner."

(Wilbur's life, Niki is realizing, is like a house of mirrors too. Except Wilbur has smashed every mirror. No, actually, not true. Niki sees, if she squints, that Wilbur has abandoned the sledgehammer and is observing a still intact mirror. He didn't keep the mirror depicting a little boy sitting on the steps of a home, their home, trying to play a song and failing because the guitar is too big for his body, but he refuses to buy a smaller one because "this is my Dad's guitar Niki! So, therefore, it's by default the best guitar in the world". Or the one of a father panting heavily on a couch, cursing his human legs while Niki is doubled over laughing because there is a baby fox is running on all fours around the house at 45 miles per hour who doesn't want to be put to bed. Nor the one of a leader, handing out purpose and meaning in the form of a blue and white uniform with a soft smile. No, it's the one of a man who's just pressed a button. Who long before L'manburg's destruction, always felt like he was breathing in smoke, but now kept warm by the ash and dust of his nation flying up to the red sky, it feels - for the first time in a long time - easier to breathe. Niki can't believe he didn't destroy it. He's… preserving it. Why is he preserving this version of himself of all things?)

foolish girl with dreams for a better nation, better server, better future, too much better somethings, you've ruined reality for no one but yourself. think for once about what is and not what was or could have been. he is different. changed for the worse. he's preserving it because he doesn't care about you. can't you see how happy he is over your death? how there's light in his eyes for the first time over yours being snuffed out? how he shows no sympathy in your entrapment here, forever away from Techno, Phil, and Ranboo because it benefits him. so give in and fight fight fight fight

She sees red.

Her fist collides with Wilbur's nose.

She doesn't even wait to hear the crack before she's already reeling back her arm for the next hit.

This time she aims for the jaw. She feels something split. It could be Wilbur's lip or bone. Maybe her mind. She doesn't know and she doesn't care.

What she does know is how familiar this is, having something break under her knuckles. It's easy, familiar even, throwing punch after punch, like some sort of autopilot response. Perhaps it is, for every punch is instinctive, out of body almost. No longer is there a before in the blows, only an after.

Except, that's not true. Not entirely. Because Niki is realizing why there is no before. Because before each blow there is always a struggle from your opponent. Flailing limbs trying to make contact with something, choked wheezes, an attempt to curl into a ball, and, sometimes, begging.

Wilbur does none of that. He's silent the whole time.

It's almost like he takes it willingly.

clever girl with hands too bruised, too scarred, too violent to ever be held so gently. a finger trained to pull the trigger is not meant to bear a promise ring. who's fault do you think that is? you've held back for so long, don't stop now. so give in and get revenge revenge revenge revenge

A swing at his eye. A swift kick to the ribs. A fistful of his hair so tight she could yank his scalp off if she twisted her wrist just so.

It's all a flurry of movements really, too fast for even her own eyes to catch. Half of the time she's lost on where the hits land, totally dependent on wherever the blood leaks the most and the bruises that weren't there a second ago to tell her. Eventually, the damage starts to blur, too much of his face has swelled up to spot any new marks and too many limbs bend at weird angles to differentiate what is and isn't broken, so she stops trying to guess.

Which is why she doesn't know which strike finally gets Wilbur to fall, all she knows is that he does. He doesn't even sway. One second he's on his feet and the next he's on his back.

It's kinda pathetic really, that this was her general.

For a second he's still, too still, and then he spits out a tooth. He licks his gums with a grimace, looking for the gap before finally speaking.

"I see Technoblade's been training you. Do you feel better now?"

clever girl who's seen her fair share of men with livewire tongues, spitting rogue sparks at your skin in the form of harsh words to quiet you down. do not be silenced once more. you let him speak before and it cost you a nation. this time silence him, and I will secure you a limbo without him. so give in and maim maim maim maim

She screams. She thinks she does. It's hard to tell over the deep reverberated banging of Wilbur's head against the stone floor.

The first slam simply causes blood to trickle down his forehead.

The second one caves in the front of his scalp.

The third one he's unrecognizable.

The fourth one there's nothing left to bash.

She keeps going anyway.

"Shut up," she pants between each crack and occasional splat. "Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP."

Wilbur tries to say something. All that comes out is a gurgle, wet and sharp and loud. So very loud. And it keeps going, stringing along and along and along longer than the large chunks of skin and brain on the pavement. It shouldn't be possible, his mouth, along with everything else, is practically gone. Nothing but a small pit inside a bigger pit.

Yet it continues, getting increasingly louder in pitch.

And then she gets it.

He's scared.

clever girl of never-ending war zones, jumping from one horror to the next. this is the last one. and I know that's been said before but you can trust me. just end it and you can finally rest. wouldn't that be nice? so give in and kill kill kill kill kill

She smiles. It hurts her face.

She picks his head up from the ground one last time. She's humming, like a lullaby. Maybe it is. She's putting the baby to sleep. She knows he can't die again, but wherever he goes after this, if the limbo keeps its promise, it can't be pretty.

"I said," she laughs. "Shut up."

She brings his head down.

She blinks.

Her empty hand meets black stone slabs.

"Niki?"

She looks up and immediately regrets it. Everything is too bright, scorching, a burning gaze on every inch of her skin, but what really hurts are her eyes. She thinks they're sizzling, like actually sizzling, because her sclera feels as if it's bubbling and her iris is definitely melting into her brain and there are so many spots dancing behind her eyelids.

And then the voice, soft and familiar, speak's again.

"Do you have your stuff?"

It takes a while, and a lot of blinking, but her eyes eventually readjust.

She gasps.

The first thing she processes isn't that George and DreamXD stand just a few feet away or that it was George speaking. No, it was how absurdly colorful, everything was.

Here there was life. Life. It was like she poked her head through a kaleidoscope, what with how the specks of a rainbow illuminated itself in the clear blue water of the fountain and the sight of shimmering white quartz glistening under the sunbeams that poured through the purple-tinted windows. No longer was everything dulled around the corners and drained at the center like anything in her dreadful, cramped space of a bakery she shared with -

Oh primes.

Her bakery.

This isn't her bakery. This is Church Prime.

"She's back," DreamXD exclaims. He turns to George, bouncing on his heels excitedly as if expecting some sort of reward, but George pays him no mind/ He's too busy looking at Niki, or, more so, through her.

"What happened?" He asks.

She opens her mouth, then slams it shut.

She's alive. Dear primes, she's alive and she's back and she should be happy, cheering, jumping up and down to feel the livelihood ache in her bones but…

She looks back down at the floor. The floor should be covered in blood. Wilbur's blood, and his bits of flesh and tissue and muscle and -

Oh primes. What has she done?

Or better yet, what didn't she do?

"George," she whimpers. "I don't know what's going on. I, I don't know what's going on here."

She hopes it was her imagination. It had to have been. Otherwise, she hosted Wilbur's head up by the splits of his hair, pushed down as hard as she could and -

She wouldn't. She couldn't, not anymore at least. She left that side of herself in a gate full of slaughtered chickens as Jack demanded they try and kill Tommy again. That side of her is as dead as those chickens.

Right?

She prays so, for this is a church after all, and that means prayers have to be answered here. They have to come true. They have to.

There's a smile in DreamXD's voice when he speaks again as if he knows how much this torments her. "I sent her to hell and then I brought her back."

No.

She sobs. She looks down at her hands. Their bear and yet they feel so heavy. As if the ghost of Wilbur's blood and gore is still there, a new thick-coated layer of skin.

She tortured him. Broke him brick by brick again and again and again even as he tried to beg. Her best friend, her general, her family, begging at her feet, and she kept going, would have kept going too, with an ear-splitting grin, like it was some sort of game.

And it had felt so good to finally get a checkmate.

Wilbur is not a demon. He's just seen too much in too little time. Too much pressure on too little shoulders. Too tired to be all there. It's not an excuse for all the pain he's caused, far from it, but it shows his actions didn't come from a place of malice, but rather a cry for help. Niki knows this, she gets it, and she'll say it time and time again. But all she could think about at that moment, before the final strike, was how happy Wilbur was about her death. He deserved a piece of her mind, but not like that. Never like that.

What is wrong with her?

No, no it wasn't her. It was that place, that voice. It was a parasite, burrowing deep within her brain and planting itself in the center, telling her what to do and what to say. Telling her to slaughter left and right. It was so loud, rattling around in her head and echoing like war drums. She couldn't just ignore it, it was too much. So, no, she is free of guilt, free of responsibility, hands all clean.

But she knows that at the end of the day the host still needs to be somewhat conscious for the parasite to thrive.

Oh primes. Is this what Techno deals with every day?

Then, she jumps to her feet.

Techno, Phil, and Ranboo.

It's coming back now, that memory of fury in her eyes, that fire in her voice as she told Wil she had people to go back to. How she was willing to claw her fingers down to bone to make an exit. But that voice, that stupid stupid voice, it told her she could rest, could get revenge, and against her better judgment she listened. It caught her at a moment of weakness, Wilbur's words of memory lane, of Phil, of everything that came before and after his death, she was at a low point. And like a moth to a flame, she was there one moment and gone the next. Back to the old her.

She thought she had left that version of herself behind when she joined the Syndicate. She was so sure she was getting better with Techno, Phil, and Ranboo around.

But all it took was one voice to ruin all her progress.

Her chest constricts and her head feels heavy.

She needs to find them. She needs to tell them what she saw. She needs to tell Phil. She needs… she needs…

She just needs them.

"What did you see?" George says, snapping her out of her thoughts.

This time, her mouth has no problem moving. "George," she starts, voice trembling. "I have seen things. I... I... I have seen things. I don't know what's going on here but I don't know if I should - "

Niki gulps. It's getting so hard to breathe. She should feel thankful that she can breathe in the first place, but every inhale stings as her lungs try to remember to do a motion so foreign to her.

How long has she been down there?

She doesn't want to know.

She just wants to go home.

She walks away, backward, from the two, eyes fixated tightly on them and barely blinking. She remembers the last time she let her guard down around DreamXD. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry George. Good luck with him but I - "

She doesn't finish, because she's already out the door. She wants to run, but she's so sure her lungs would explode at the first push forward of her heel. So she walks.

And walks.

The world walks with her, with each rotation. As if they’re friends taking a stroll. As if it hadn’t cracked open and swallowed her whole, chewed up everything good in her and spat her out when she turned bitter. Returned her back to a world that didn’t change one bit while she was gone, despite her herself changing so much.

It’s like what happened to her didn’t happen at all.

And then she realizes a horrible thing.

Everyone on this server is going to see today as a normal day.

Is it bad that a part of Niki wishes something like the Green Festival could happen right now, so that they could all feel the monstrosity of today?

She stands still. Stationary, like this Earth wants her to be. She thinks she could do it, stay like this forever. She feels numb enough.

Somewhere above, a crow caws.

She burst into tears.

#dream smp #fanfic #fic #niki nihachu #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ranboo #the syndicate #the syndicate are found family because I said so #dsmp #niki #niki fic #niki nihachu fanfic #niki fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #dsmp fanfic

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ihaveatheoryonthat · 4 years

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Been on a Ghost Trick kick lately, and went over some of my old work (which translates into “stuff from about two years ago”). It’s mostly a series of interconnected oneshots, none of which are actually complete, but there are a couple of decently coherent chunks that I thought I’d put out there.

If you’re someone who follows me for any other fandom (or just happens across this post) and you aren’t familiar with Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective, please don’t read this. It’s set firmly post-game and hinges on The One Big Spoiler.

Sometimes, Sissel wondered how Lynne had managed to stay alive long enough to meet him in the first place. It was a question he mulled over in a previous reality and, unfortunately, one he has to ask in their current one.

He’d been having a relatively nice day prior to phone call. The house had been empty, leaving him to his own devices; that meant he could go wherever he felt like without having to worry that someone would see his empty body and think the worst.

He spent this particular day poking around in the attic, playing with anything that caught his attention.

Then the phone rang, and rang and rang. It was persistent, but muffled—enough to be annoying if nothing else.

He didn’t think much of it until it finally gave up, only to start again seconds later. By the time it finished, Sissel had perched himself in a nearby vase, wondering whether or not he should unseat the handset and take a peek on the opposite side of the line.

The answering machine clicked on, and he hesitated just shy of hopping to the receiver.

Jowd’s voice rang out in the kitchen, and, immediately, Sissel was intrigued. Alma and Jowd would call home, but only when they expected someone to be there. The detective was well aware that it was a school day, and that Alma was still at work, which left…

“Sissel, I need you to come here.”

Oh.

He might have called it a pleasant surprise, had it not been for the tone Jowd was using. Sissel hadn’t been the intended recipient of a phone call since the Yonoa; he didn’t particularly mind, but an occasional ‘Hello, how are you? Good day to be dead?’ would still be nice.

“Please tell me you’re listening.”

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “You’d better not be playing in the street again.”

Within half a second, he’d leapt across the phone line and reached out to Jowd, incorporeal tail bristling. “What was that?”

“Oh, you weren’t. Good.” There was something odd under the dry humor—and given that Jowd had called him out at all, there had to be something worse coming—but, for the time being, Sissel ignored it.

“Dogs play in the street. I was investigating.”

“Yes, investigating an eighteen wheeler as I recall.”

“So I got hit by a truck. I’ll have you know I also stopped a three-car pileup. What did you do with your day?”

“I stop criminals for a living.”

Sissel stopped to consider the point, then licked a shoulder dismissively. “I help victims for a living.”

“You don’t make a living. You’re dead.”

“And I don’t get paid.”

Jowd finally cracked a smile—though it was nothing compared to his usual fare. For the first time, Sissel realized that the heaviness he’d felt through the world of the dead was a tightly-wound fury, and, though it wasn’t directed at him, he was worried for what that meant.

He stretched and then sat up properly, eyes fixed on the detective in silent invitation. He was already dreading what he was about to hear when the single syllable rang through their gap in reality:

“Lynne.”

Sissel couldn’t bring himself to be surprised. When he first met her, she was seconds away from dying; if she had done nothing else that night, Lynne had set a precedent for herself.

He offered a brisk, “Take me to her” before severing their connection and moving to perch in the notepad Jowd had waiting.

The crime scene wasn’t far, but Jowd managed to pack a staggering amount of information into the walk, muttering under his breath so Sissel could get caught up. Sissel appreciated the gesture, but… didn’t feel that it really mattered. He was about to see what happened. Terms like ‘GSR’ only served to complicate something that was really quite simple.

He waited long enough for Jowd to finish his thought before leaping from the notebook to Cabanela’s conveniently angled bicycle, then toward its pedals and further down a road only he could see, picking a careful path towards his destination. Jowd tracked his progress, but didn’t move an inch from where he stood.

Cabanela was there too. That was the second non-surprise of the day.

He looked up at Jowd’s approach and something seemed to pass between the pair of them. Cabanela’s carefully blank expression didn’t so much as flicker, but something in his posture seemed to relax.

Sissel jostled a spring-powered umbrella that had somehow found itself in a tree and braced himself as it hurtled to the ground. He hadn’t thought to loosen the strap holding it shut, which was proving to be a mistake, as it bounced further from Lynne’s body than he’d planned for. When he tuned back into reality, Cabanela was gauging the distance between his starting point and landing position. Jowd looked like he might have been on the verge of laughter, had the circumstances been different.

The latter flipped through his empty pad of paper and made a move to join Cabanela, refusing to acknowledge the umbrella even as he ‘accidentally’ knocked it closer to Sissel’s destination.

Point, Jowd. He was, as Sissel had learned over the years, annoyingly good at helping.

And no, he hadn’t needed help.

Lynne wasn’t awake when he jumped to meet her core, and Sissel found himself disappointed. He’d missed her over the years and, even though death was supposed to be a serious thing, there was a fraction of a second where he’d thought ‘finally’—he could finally talk to her again. If she didn’t wake up at some point, the wait would resume.

He would just have to trust that she’d collect herself by the time he’d sorted everything out. So he went about his work.

It was a gunshot; Sissel couldn’t help but think, “At least she’s starting small”.

He was eying his new friend the umbrella when Lynne regained herself.

“You’re Jowd’s cat.” She said, eyes narrowed as her memories gradually returned. For several seconds, she squinted into nothingness. “And this is…”

“Oh. Oh. Poor kitty, did you get shot too?”

Sissel felt his whiskers twitch, but he refrained from saying anything.

Lynne wrinkled her nose. “Jerk. Who shoots a cat?”

Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. Do not. Say. A thing.

Oblivious to this internal crisis—even though the feeling was being broadcast directly into the world of the dead—Lynne jammed her hands onto her hips. “Well, it’ll be okay, little guy. If we’re in the ghost world, then that means that Si—“

And there it was.

“Wait a second.”

He’d only dealt with this phenomena once before, so Sissel had been wondering how this would play out.

Lynne was looking at him wide-eyed, like one of the rats he would play with, but refused to actively hunt. Finally, she found the words. Or, rather, word.

“CAT.”

“Yes.”

“You’re a cat?”

“Yes.”

“Holy cow! You’re a cat.”

“I am a cat. I have a scratching post and everything.” He gave his tail a dainty flick and reminded himself that it was untoward to sass the recently departed.

…oh to hell with it. Lynne didn’t count as ‘recently departed’.

“Do you want to reaffirm that I’m a cat a few more times, or can I get on with this?”

“How—how are you the cat?”

“Reaffirmation it is.”

“Can you give me a second to process this? I just found out I was crushing on a cat.”

Sissel tilted his head, uncomprehending. “It was a chicken. And it crushed you.”

Lynne buried her face in her hands.

While she was distracted, Sissel shook a tree branch, jostling the umbrella loose as his query passed beneath it. This time, he rode down with it, stuck the landing-- shoved haphazardly in the assailant’s bag-- and waited. When the man moved to draw his pistol, the umbrella’s spring-locked handle shot upwards and knocked it out of his grip. Past-Lynne started and whirled around.

The would-be murderer panicked and tried to grab something in his bag, but only came up with the wayward umbrella. Said umbrella promptly exploded to its full size, giving Lynne enough time to snatch the gun up and train it on him.

Current-day Lynne gave a low whistle, having long-since emerged from her hiding spot to watch the show. “What was that, a tree branch and an umbrella? Either you’re getting better at this or I need to step up my game.”

“I don’t think I can handle you at the top of your game.”

#ghost trick #ihaveatheoryonthat gt

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gffa · 5 years

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Every single time I do this, I keep thinking, “I’ll just add one or two more to the list, because they’re so good and that’ll be it, surely fandom won’t post anything else that I need to immediately read and yell about my feelings over!” And then every single time I’m wrong about that and STAR WARS fandom puts out more fic or, I don’t know, creates and Obi-Ken genfic exchange and I suddenly have a whole new pile of fic to read and crying about it. It’s the best worst problem to have because there are some absolutely stellarfics here and so many talented people and I need to yell a lot and shove them allat everyone who will listen! STAR WARS FIC RECS: TIME TRAVEL RECS: ✦ The Unreliability of Chronology by Felilla, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, time travel, 7.5k wip No. His Padawan died on Mortis six months ago and he was left without even a body to mourn. This was a trick. She hadn’t returned to him and she most definitely was not a decade older. ✦ Blades of Grass by zarabithia, obi-wan & shmi, time travel, ~1k Shmi is not yet five years old when the strange man falls out of the sky. ✦ A Future in Crisis by WolfMarauder, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, time travel, 45.3k wip Ahsoka has a vision that may change the course of the future. She just needs to keep her master from falling, keep his wife from dying, and the Jedi Order from dying out… That’s all. The first step is returning the the Jedi Order and she finds she has more friends than she thought. ✦ Warmth by Tomatosoupful, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & xanatos & tahl & shmi & cast, child endangerment, time travel, 59.8k wip Time Travel AU. Anakin has woken up in the past. Time to say hello to past friends, right? Only problem, Anakin is a walking talking human disaster and makes a lot of stupid decisions. Stealing a Jedi baby from the temple certainly isn’t the smartest thing he’s done. PREQUELS RECS: ✦ Trust by SingManyFaces, anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k Three moments when Ahsoka recognized Anakin in the Force. ✦ Room Arrangements by skatzaa, obi-wan & anakin, 2.2k Anakin has some concerns about room arrangements at the Temple. Obi-Wan does his best to reassure him. ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & kanan & ocs & cast, 94.9k wip After killing three of the Jedi Order’s best and brightest, Palpatine’s fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he’s lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he’s ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance. ✦ Waiting and Learning by otherhawk, obi-wan & ahsoka & cody & waxer & boil & cast, 2.9k During a brief period of time when Ahsoka Tano is working with the 212th under Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka takes part in a mission to obtain separatist codes. Unfortunately the mission involves a lot of downtime without much entertainment as they wait for an ambush. Along the way Ahsoka gets to know her grandmaster better and makes some new friends. ✦ Out of the Desert Storm by LazarusII, obi-wan & owen & luke & beru, 2.1k One day, a harsh desert storm suddenly kicks up, stranding Owen Lars and a young Luke Skywalker in the Jundland Wastes. Obi-Wan saves the day, takes them back to his home, and a friendship begins. ✦ And the Void Answered Back by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan & anakin & rey & finn & poe & ben & yoda & maz & han & cast, force ghosts, 110.6k (Follows the Force ghosts of Anakin, Obi Wan, and friends getting dragged kicking and screaming through the events of The Force Awakens) ✦ you’re safe within by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin, ~1k Anakin wakes from nightmares tinted red. The darkness of his bedroom seems oppressive, and no matter how many times he blinks red seems to seep into the edges of his vision. He wants to feel safe. He wants Obi-Wan. ✦ Imperfect Resolution by Nny11, ahsoka/barriss, 11k When Ahsoka Tano heard there was a possible Jedi living in the Outer Rim she could recruit, she didn’t expect to find Barriss Offee. She didn’t expect her stupid heart to bleed over this. It’s so much easier to forgive someone when you thought they were dead. ✦ The Spire by skatzaa, obi-wan & ocs, 2.4k The galaxy was on the brink of war, and Obi-Wan Kenobi had been assigned a new room. ✦ We Push Away the Unimaginable by KeeperofSeeds, obi-wan & padme, 5.2k RotS AU: Padme survives. Weak from her injuries on Mustafar and healing after giving birth, she and the twins are taken into hiding by Obi Wan. Now they are on the run from the Empire and dealing with each other’s trauma, as they try to figure out what to do after your world falls apart. ✦ Swimming Lessons by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k Obi-Wan decides Anakin must learn how to swim. ✦ In Pursuit by zinjadu, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & padme & adi & cast, 40k AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much. Rex decides to stay “in pursuit” of his Commander; he jumps. Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress. Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone. ✦ Of Progress and Promises by Pandora151, obi-wan & anakin & bant & yoda & cast, 6.2k Not long after joining the Jedi Order, Anakin Skywalker teams up with some of his Master’s friends for a very important mission: to get Obi-Wan Kenobi to smile and laugh again. ✦ Accidental Baby Acquisition: The Obi-Wan Kenobi Way by kitkatkaylie, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & cast, 9.9k wip Obi-Wan Kenobi was just browsing the market, he has no idea how the baby ended up in his robe, honest. ✦ The Bad Day (Trademark Pending) by skatzaa, obi-wan & anakin & bant, 2k Obi-Wan is having one of his Bad Days. Anakin helps. ✦ Old Sins Cast Long Shadows by zarabithia, ahsoka & obi-wan/padme & anakin & cast, 16.6k In this universe, when Palpatine asks if Anakin is going to kill him, Anakin does. While Anakin ultimately wins, it costs him his life. In this universe, the twins are raised by Ahsoka, Padmé, and Obi-Wan. ✦ Voices in the Dark by otherhawk, obi-wan & cody, 6.9k wip In the middle of the war Obi-Wan and Cody find themselves stranded behind enemy lines, deep in the old tunnels of a hostile world. Injured, alone and in complete darkness they have to rely on each other’s skill and strength. Fortunately there’s plenty to go around. ✦ Abducted by devilinthedetails, obi-wan & qui-gon, 1.6k In trying to rescue the kidnapped daughter of a planetary leader, Qui-Gon finds himself abducted and in need of Obi-Wan’s rescue. ✦ Wellspring by skatzaa, obi-wan & shmi, 1.9k Ben meditates, and meets a ghost. She’s just not the ghost he’s been expecting. ✦ Farewell There by DestielsDestiny, obi-wan & mace & cast, 1.4k It was a routine mission. In so much as anything was routine since the war began. Which was to say, it was a disaster from the word go. ✦ A Burning Why by Icarus_is_flying, jocasta & anakin, 1.1k Jocasta Nu understood many things–all valuable, obscure, interesting, well-known, and useless in turn–knowledge earned over decades. Some questions were easy to answer. Others take generations to decipher. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, anakin & ahsoka & mace & rig & vokara, 1k Anakin Skywalker walks through the halls of the Jedi Temple, his padawan by his side. ✦ playing yourself like a red three by EclipseMidnight (EternalEclipse), obi-wan & xanatos & qui-gon, 7.7k As usual, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s mission has gone spectacularly sideways, this time before they even reach the planet they are meant to be helping. Luckily for them, they get some help from an unexpected source. ✦ Obitine Week 2019 by sunshineisdelicious, obi-wan/satine & anakin & ahsoka & qui-gon & korkie, 12.6k A little celebration of Obi-Wan and Satine. ✦ I Know: Or, How Ahsoka Tano Saved the Skywalkers by SianShanya, obi-wan & anakin/padme & ahsoka & cast, 12.5k In a galaxy where Ahsoka learns of her master’s marriage before leaving(because come on, Anakin is the least subtle person ever), Evil Plans are thwarted left and right. ✦ Rebirth by Emmeebee, obi-wan & padme & cast, 12.3k Padmé has never been one to run from danger, but it’s different when it’s her children at stake. A rewrite of the ending of Revenge of the Sith. ✦ Flash Flash Fashion Baby by Nny11, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, ~1k Anakin wears a crop top to show solidarity with his Padawan’s fashion choices and because Padme wears one. He didn’t mean to start a galaxy wide trend! ✦ Aliit ori'shya tal'din by TexasDreamer01, obi-wan & anakin & cody & waxer & boil & ahsoka & cast, 5.3k Reconnaissance missions are never easy. On a far-flung planet in the Outer Rim, Obi-Wan thinks, is not much better. His troops and friends, however, can make his work downright pleasant. ✦ Perpetual Parents & Padawans by BigFatBumblebee, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & cast, 2.4k As is the case with all children, Jedi Padawans grow up. And as with all parents, Jedi Masters occasionally find this a rather difficult concept to get to grips with, and no matter how old, Padawan’s need their Masters. ✦ Force Ex Machina by BookGirlFan, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka, 4.3k Qui-Gon appears in the middle of the Clone Wars, and Anakin discovers some uncomfortable truths about his master’s past. ✦ untitled by stonefreeak, jocasta & yoda & cast, 1.1k Jocasta Nu has been the Head Librarian of the Jedi Temple for many years now. There is no one who knows the Temple library and its different ways of searching for information better than she does. ✦ Escapade by Shadaras, obi-wan & anakin, 1.3k Obi-Wan helps Anakin rescue himself from hawk-bats beneath the Jedi Temple. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ untitled by imperialvader, obi-wan/anakin, 1k Kenobi and Skywalker. Anakin and Obi-Wan. They’re a team. They’re the team. And they happen in every universe. ✦ This time we’ll fall together by liv_k, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & yoda & bail & cast, 13.5k wip In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker’s miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who had thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ The Missing Part by Nightstar269, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & palpatine, NSFW, modern au (of sorts), suicide ideation, switching in the final chapter, 151.1k Anakin Skywalker, a student of mechanical engineering, has always felt that his life was lacking something, a feeling that was made much worse with the deaths of his mother first, and of the woman he loved some time later. Still haunted by the pain and heartbreak, he tries to go on with his life as well as he can. When an initiative of the director of the university has the students attending the classes of another degree so as to enrich their knowledge, he will meet someone that will turn his world upside down. ✦ Upfall by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & satine(/obi-wan background) & padme & cast, NSFW, 41.5k wip Anakin is doing just about everything he can to hold himself together; it won’t last. ✦ The Devil’s Own by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin & cast, regency au, 16.2k wip Some whisper the Skywalker family is the devil’s own, and no tutors in the area will take on the orphaned Lord, a young man famous for his excessive drinking, riding, and dueling. The townspeople shake their heads at the arrival of the latest tutor, a London scholar out of money and other options, wondering how long it will be before this Kenobi is run out like all the rest. ✦ Mutual Acquaintances by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/satine & anakin/padme & padme/satine & cast, 11k wip In which Satine’s distress call puts Obi Wan under Council scrutiny, Anakin offers to save her for him as a Totally Platonic Favor, Satine would like one good day, please, Padmé has everything under control, and Maul manages to cause an even bigger problem than before. ✦ The Garden by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin & rex & cody, a/b/o, 4.8k wip Nothing is ever simple with Anakin Skywalker. ✦ Tell Me Yes by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, mild d/s, 2.7k Anakin gets too worked up, Obi-Wan talks him down. ✦ Montreschere by Ralph_E_Silvering, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & dooku & cast, 9.4k wip Reckless, brilliant Anakin Skywalker is being hailed as the greatest swordsman of his age. In a city where the nobles hire swordsmen in their never-ending political games against one another, Anakin is always assured of a job and is beholden to no one and nothing except the sword. Until the day he meets the handsome, reclusive Duke of Montreschere, whose idealism threatens the very foundations of the city’s most powerful players, and Anakin learns the true meaning of living, and dying, by the sword. ✦ Beard by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, ~1k It’s the beard, Anakin thinks sometimes. But he knows better; the beard is just a symbol, a visual shortcut for something far more complex. ✦ For Everything by Diminution, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 10.8k wip In which Obi-Wan owns a coffee shop and Anakin stumbles in early one morning after an especially terrible nightmare. ✦ not too particular, not too precise by AozoraNoShita, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, modern au, 4.1k Obi-Wan and Anakin both run food blogs and they have Opinions about each other’s recipes. Then it turns out they live in the same apartment building and they have the same friends and when they finally meet? It’s like a cooking competition meets a rom-com. Kind of. ✦ The Seduction of Anakin Skywalker by DontCallMeShirley, obi-wan/anakin & anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin/padme & cast, 16.5k wip Anakin is falling to the dark side. Obi Wan and Padme concoct a scheme to bring him back. ✦ Red Shift by Burning_Nightingale, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, fem!anakin, 4.2k Obi-Wan and Anakin decide to go undercover as a husband and wife bounty hunting team at a Black Sun casino to try and find crucial information about their ties to the Separatists. But when their host gives them a “gift” of aphrodisiac purri root, they get a little more than they bargained for. ✦ Would you teach me? by blurred_lines, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 3.8k wip Obi-Wan was… well, meditating, probably, but this was most definitely a form of meditation Anakin wasn’t acquainted with. Like, not at all. ✦ So I Love You Because I Know No Other Way by DontCallMeShirley, obi-wan/anakin, 3.3k Anakin and Obi Wan just need a little push to admit their feelings. ORIGINAL TRILOGY RECS: ✦ Binary by skatzaa, obi-wan & r2-d2, ~1k Old Ben has a talk with a familiar astromech. ✦ Challenge or Manipulation by Raven_Knight, obi-wan & luke & yoda, 1.3k Before going to rescue Han Solo from Jabba the Hutt, Luke Skywalker visits the abandoned home of Ben Kenobi in the Jundland Wastes. ✦ a crown upon my head by skatzaa, leia & poe & rey, 1.7k Poe finds her the morning after they escape from Crait at the dejarik table, though it she isn’t hard to find, with the Falcon as full as it is. ✦ Wizard by ASadHermitStory, obi-wan & owen & beru, ~1k Owen worries that Obi-Wan is lurking too close to the farm and will attract unwanted attention to them. With Beru’s help, he proposes a solution. ✦ Inviolable by glorious_clio, leia & deara & bail/breha, 4.1k Deara has a new niece to love and spoil, and teach how to smash things with hammers. Meanwhile, the Galaxy has gone to hell. REBELS RECS: ✦ The Starry Crown by bedlamsbard, ezra & kanan & sabine & zeb & chopper & cast, 17.4k wip Months after Ezra Bridger vanished into the depths of the mysterious Jedi temple on Lothal, he reappears – with Kanan Jarrus in tow. All Hera Syndulla and the other surviving members of the Ghost crew want is to retrieve their missing teammates, but a Jedi who can raise the dead is a prize too great for the Empire to pass up. Palpatine will do anything to get Ezra and the secrets he carries – secrets that may allow the Emperor to control reality itself. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE!

#obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #padme amidala #ahsoka tano #obikin #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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ducksbellorum · 5 years

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the flower and the flame (listen/download)

a gale hawthorne/peeta mellark mix - the hunger games fandom - arranged by ducksbellorum

Kiss With A Fist Florence + the Machine Blood sticks, sweat drips Break the lock if it don’t fit A kick in the teeth is good for some A kiss with a fist is better than none There’s always been tension between Peeta and Gale. No one really knows why: maybe jealousy, maybe a weird sort of affection, maybe they sense they’re both fond of the same girl. Even they aren’t sure, but their fights are a fact of life, a universal constant that’s always been. Their mutual grievance manifests in everything from the all-out tussles when they were small to sniping comments now that they’re grown. Gale doesn’t like Peeta. Peeta doesn’t like Gale. It’s akin to pulling the pigtails of the girl you like, but neither realize it.

Live It Out Metric Look at you, I know I’m already dead No concrete adversity Only traps of our own actions How we wanted it to be When Peeta leaves for the Hunger Games, it’s like a death sentence. It doesn’t hit him at first, but one night on the train he realizes that he’s pretty much already dead. So is Katniss too, if he’s really honest. His life wasn’t supposed to go like this, he wants to scream. But strangely, instead of himself or the girl in the next room, the person Peeta’s thinking about most is Gale. Gale, living the rest of his life in the coal mines, doing normal District 12 things. Like Peeta was meant to do. He wonders if Gale will remember him.

Intro xx Instrumental Gale doesn’t like Peeta. Peeta doesn’t like Gale. The Games didn’t change that. Except maybe they did. Maybe one day Gale finds his way over to Peeta’s house in Victor’s Village and doesn’t leave. Maybe they start talking, about the government, about the weather, about Katniss. Mostly about Katniss, the one thing they really have in common. Maybe it becomes a ritual: six days a week shalt Gale labor, and on the seventh day Gale visits Katniss and on the seventh night he sits with Peeta. And eventually they might realize that they really don’t mind each other’s company anymore.

Never Fall in Love Emilie Simon I am a flower And I hurt your hands Don’t say you love Don’t say you care Gale and Peeta have always been vastly different people. Gale is a fighter, a flare, a rebel to the bone. Peeta had always been a lover and a talker, more of a flower than any sort of fire. The Games changed that as well. Now instead of an innocent dandelion, Peeta’s changed into a rose with long and deadly thorns. This makes he and Gale more alike than either wants to admit. They won’t even admit that they’re friends yet. They can’t be friends, it’s not possible. And they certainly can’t be anything more. Not the flower and the flame.

Hands Open Snow Patrol It’s hard to argue when you won’t stop making sense But my tongue still misbehaves and it keeps digging my own grave Even their political views are different. Gale’s always wanted to go, to fight, to shoot up all the things and take back their freedom from the Capitol. Peeta’s quieter, diplomatic, more in favor of a peaceful approach. They argue about it a lot, but each has to acknowledge that the other makes a lot of sense. A year ago, before the Games, they wouldn’t have even listened to each other. But now there was respect and mutual admiration and maybe maybe some sort of affection. Neither is sure what it is. But they both know they want more of it.

The Walk Imogen Heap No it’s not meant to be like this. Not what I planned at all. I don’t want to feel like this. So that makes it all your fault The kiss comes out of nowhere, somewhere between ‘come inside’ and 'do you want tea’. It’s quick, over in an eyeblink, and it takes a minute for their brains to catch up with their lips. But then it does and…

Gale: “I have to go.”

Peeta, a hand on his arm: “Wait.”

They stare at each other for a long minute. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Gale says finally. “I don’t even like you.”

“I love Katniss. You love Katniss. We fight over Katniss. We don’t…”

“I guess we do.”

Another cavernous silence.

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Sort Of Ingrid Michaelson And if I was stronger then I would tell you no And if I was stronger then I would leave this show And if I was stronger then I would up and go But here I am, and here we go again It goes slow from there. It’s like feeling their way through foreign territory, not knowing what to feel or how much to feel or if they felt anything at all. They continue to see Katniss independently of each other and after visiting her there’s always a short discussion along the lines of: “We can’t anymore. It’s Katniss. It’s always been Katniss. Stay away from me and stay away from her.” But it never lasts. Peeta says once, “If I were smarter or stronger, I’d tell you no and mean it.”

“Do you want to?” Gale asks.

Peeta never hesitates. “No.”

Ashamed Muse There’s always something that makes you guilty There’s still something that you’re dying to tell me Make sure no one finds out Tell me all about it Gale’s sure, and Peeta tells him, that in the Capitol and the other districts men can love men just as well as they love women. But Gale’s a country boy with country values. He’s not nearly as sanguine about the whole relationship with Peeta thing as Peeta is. He doesn’t know whether it’s right or wrong in the end, or how to justify his feelings with his fundamental upbringing. Sometimes he feels ashamed of Peeta, of what they’re doing, and then he feels guilty about feeling guilty. Nothing is simple and nothing is easy. But Peeta understands. Somehow Peeta always understands.

Warning Sign Coldplay I’ve gotta tell you what a state I’m in I’ve gotta tell you in my loudest tones That I started looking for a warning sign When the truth is, I miss you They’ve always known that anything they have together can’t last. The Capitol will eventually come in and screw everything over. Sure enough, when the Quarter Quell rolls around, they do. Katniss and Peeta are back to being lovers, back to fighting in the Games, and likely not coming back alive. It puts a strain on all of them, but especially the boys. Their tempers run short and they say things to each other that they never mean. Gale says he misses Peeta. Peeta says he’s still here, but they both know it’s not as true as it used to be.

Under the Sheets Ellie Goulding Where did the people go? My hands are empty You’re not the answer I should know Like all the boys before, like all the boys before Peeta’s a prisoner in the Capitol and all he sees on television is the girl on fire and the rebellion ruining the Capitol’s peace. They’ve put something in his veins and Katniss is all mixed up with terrible thoughts that don’t belong with her or do they. He’s not sure. But Katniss isn’t a good thought. He tries to focus on Gale then, on all the things Gale had told him about revolution and about love and the way Gale made him feel safe. But the idea of Gale gets twisted too and soon Gale isn’t a good thought either.

Love Lockdown Kanye West I’m not lovin’ you the way I wanted to Where I wanna go, I don’t need you I’ve been down this road, too many times before I’m not lovin’ you the way I wanted to Loving Peeta is ridiculous because Peeta is a traitor and Peeta is against everything Gale stands for. Plus there’s Katniss to consider. Gale doesn’t need Peeta, not emotionally or physically or anything. Certainly having any affection for Peeta is bad for his reputation, being as Gale’s the badass rebel soldier and Peeta’s a drugged-up, traitorous timebomb. That’s what he has to tell everyone else, and even himself.

Yet no matter how often he does this, Gale can’t help worrying about the boy and wanting him back. Yeah, so maybe it makes no sense. But that’s just the way it is.

Edge of Desire John Mayer Don’t say a word, just come over and lie here with me 'Cause I’m just about to set fire to everything I see I want you so bad, I’ll go back on the things I believe There I just said it, I’m scared you’ll forget about me Peeta can see Gale through the observation window of his hospital room. He can see the other boy staring in at him, never speaking, never moving, even when Peeta waves hello. Peeta still can’t remember everything right. He can’t remember why he hates Katniss so much, and he can’t remember anything about Gale. He just has a feeling that Gale was safe, that he could trust Gale. Peeta thought if only Gale would tell him what was right, he’d know. Gale never comes. Gale’s afraid to come, but Peeta can’t know that. All Peeta knows is that something is wrong.

2 Atoms in a Molecule Noah and the Whale Held together, holding each other With no one else in mind Like two atoms in a molecule Inseparably combined After everything is said and done and the rebellion is become the government, they talk again. There’s a lot of yelling and lot of accusation. Gale trying to justify the things Peeta has done and Peeta trying to reconcile his actions and Gale’s actions and both of them trying not to say I missed you. But after all the screaming, Peeta says softly, “I dreamed of you.” Gale tells him that it can’t be the way that it was. They both understand. But as they stand there looking at each other, they understand that maybe they could rebuild something better.

Fragment Trespassers William The only thing cautious now’s My hand not to break you I cannot promise any of the things I want to But I could not want this any fragment more than I do They build it up again. It’s slower this time, and less sure, but they do it. Before, Peeta had made promises and Gale had made plans and they’d dreamed together. But they were old now and the time for dreaming was long past. Peeta had Katniss and the children and Gale had his work in the new government. They didn’t see very much of each other. But they met as often as they could, just to talk, like old times. And yet, not like the old times at all. They could never love like that again. But they could remember.

Bonus: Dare You To Move Switchfoot Maybe redemption has stories to tell Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell Where can you run to escape from yourself? Where you gonna go? Gale and Peeta have a tradition when they’re together. They do shots and confess sins. It’s more comfortable than confessing to a priest and forgiveness is guaranteed. Plus you can drown your sorrows in Haymitch’s very best rotgut. Sometimes it gets silly, pranks and jokes and little things. But more often their sessions are serious. Gale remembering the bomb he’d designed consuming Katniss’ sister and Peeta reliving the death of everyone he’d killed in the Arena. They drink in silence. They can’t forgive themselves. But they can forgive each other, and maybe one day together they can start to heal.

#the hunger games #thg #peeta/gale #fanmix #fanfic

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alo-piss-trancy · 5 years

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Hello, you have been identified as An Awesome Writer™! Congrats, you rock! So that all of your readers can shower you with some extra love today, please tell us your favorite five (or as many as you want) stories of yours and why you like them and then send this to another five fic authors you think deserve this title! ❤

Gee, I wonder who this could be from? c; (Thank you so much I love you!)

Okay so I’m doing seven because as you all know from my zillion ships and characters I’ve written for/screamed about, I’m incapable of picking a specific favourite lmao. But it’s still less than half my fics so it’s fine. Also none of these are ranked, I enjoyed them all equally tbh. (Forgive my lack of heart emojis RIP, I’m on desktop for this one)The Troubles Rain Can Bring (Pers/ona 5) : Of course I have to bring this one up, since it’s the one I consider my first legit omo fic (Jade was my first foray, but since it’s unfinished and I picked a dead fandom specifically so I had less chances of getting mean comments, I consider it more of a practice run). This was my first time writing for a very active and current fandom, so it was really intimidating, but I was also really excited to participate in creating for a game I was so passionate about! Also that fic was just a total labour of self-indulgence and love (excuse for fluff with my otp? combining all my fav tropes? Gratuitous Akira Suffering? Including the others for fun towards the end? I was in hog heaven!) While I definitely can find parts where I could improve the writing now, I still love it for all of the effort I put into it, and I got such a lovely response that made me feel really welcome on ao3, the omo tag on tumblr, and in the p/5 fandom! It’s kind of nostalgic for me, even if it was only written like a year and a half ago, haha.All Bottled Up (Dang/anRonpa: THH) : I’m just really proud of this fic, and I had so much fun writing it! I think it’s probably one of the few fics I’ve written that was a completely smooth ride of inspiration and fun from start to finish, without any hitches in the writing process or me getting bogged down with other projects. Seriously I think I hammered the entire thing out in like a week or two lmao. I love Naegiri so much, and the idea was a treat to work with even if it’s some of the most cliché omo scenarios, it was just a nice relaxing bit of indulgence! Also I got to dig into Kirigiri’s character, which I didn’t get to do in my other fic of her (since that one was so short and oddly styled). My favourite bit was probably getting to mess with the drawbacks of her gloves/hand injuries, and of course those fluffy bits with Naegi! Getting Your Feet Wet (Pers/ona 5) : This one, hoo boy. Definitely one of my longest fics, and while at the time when I posted it I kind of hated half the stuff in it (just because I had been nitpicking it for so long lmao), now that time has gone by I can genuinely say I love it and it’s probably one I’m proudest of. Not only was it my first full dive into snut (and I’d like to think it isn’t too shabby), but I got to work with a rarepair that I’ve been intrigued by, with two of my fav npcs from the game! So fun times all around! It was great to imagine how Sae might have changed and opened up since the game’s ending, and what Tae could do to help draw her out of that strict shell while still making her feel secure and comfortable. Also I got to include pet/p.lay which is something I’d been dying to write since I started that account, so bonus points for that! And I got a way better response than I was expecting, so that was nice!A Sinking Ship (Pers/ona 5) : ((Okay I swear I still plan to update the other half of this one someday soon, I literally have the draft halfway done I just haven’t been able to get it finished to the level I want.)) Anyways, I have a soft spot for this one because 1. It’s Makoto, and you all know how much I adore her, 2. I finally got to write some legit palace battling and shenanigans, which I really enjoyed and want to include more of in future projects, 3. I literally put so much detail into this one, from the setting descriptions to the dialogue and going out of my way to include the entire team interacting with her instead of just one or two chars, and I’m giving myself a fat pat on the back for that. And then throwing in actual anxiety and plot issues instead of just making her desperate for the sake of it, which may have been ambitious (hence why it’s kind of on a cliffhanger right now while I finish the comfort half), but I really just wanted her to have one of my best fics possible because Makoto deserves the best (of the worst suffering oops sorry bby). Also did I mention The Shumako Bridal Carry scene? That was absolutely necessary to include okay? Also there’s gonna be quality Shumako bonding in the second chapter so I’m biased to love this in advance. Basically I love this one specifically because it’s my own self-indulgent bullshit, which is kind of every fic I write but this is definitely one of The Most Indulgent. I also consider this one my very best omo fic in terms of the actual omo writing/content, even if it’s long AF, because at least you’re getting desperation and wetting for pretty much the entire thing, even when other stuff’s going on around it. So yeah I guess if you don’t mind a cliffhanger ending (for now) and have a decent knowledge of p/5, this is the one I recommend reading!Conundrums Lead to Collapse (Doc/tor Who - 13th Doc/tor) : I really liked writing this one because of the whump, actually. I rarely have excuses to injure characters for Even Worse Omo Suffering/Comfort, so the fact that I could write based on a canon injury was the perfect excuse! Also I’m just weak for the 13th Doctor so I’m always down for omo of her, but it was also a fun excuse to explore her character. We hadn’t gotten to see her angry or broken down at the time it aired, so I enjoyed getting to play around with how things affect her when she does finally lose the positive attitude and confidence, and bringing a character as powerful (and semi immortal I guess) as The Doctor to the floor was just a fun exercise. Also it’s kind of hard to find whump fics focused on female characters that don’t involve a certain kind of violence (or just female whump in general actually), so I just really enjoyed using all of the fandom tropes I’ve read over the years in those fics to create something for those of us who wanted it the other way around! I would also like to say this one gave me the excuse for Found Family Coddling, everyone comforts and helps her towards the end which is perfect for my fluff-craving heart after all of the angst.Holding More than Cards (Ka/kegurui Compulsive Gambler) : Oh boy, I’ll be honest the reason I love this is purely because it’s pretty much the only fic for this pairing that I’ve found for my tastes and I had to make it myself dang it (They basically had a whole two episodes where Midari creamed herself for Yumeko and they had that scene where they held each other’s faces staring into their eyes, HOW is no one jumping on this ship??? There’s literally 5 fics total on ao3 I’m not joking). I really enjoyed getting to dig into Midari’s characterization for this one, especially since I had such a tiny bit of canon to go off of and had to set it after the anime’s s1 developments. I got to write Yumeko being a dom and dropping her cheerful attitude too, which was really satisfying. Also while this doesn’t have full on snut in it, it was the closest I’d come at the time, so that was an interesting challenge. This was a rare chance to indulge in unhealthy ships too (bc literally every ship in that show is unhealthy on some level lmao) so that was entertaining to try and navigate.Capture the Fly with Nectar Sweet (The Ch/illing Adventures of Sabrin/a) : I just posted this one recently but I’m adding it anyways, because I had an absolute blast working on it. It’s so starkly different from anything I usually write, because you all know I love close friendships and found family and all that quality fluff and caring. But instead this one was me staring at my laptop thinking of how I want to tell this character to go to hell, except that would be pointless because that’s literally where she came from. I really got to stretch my wings outside my comfort zone and dig around in the dark, manipulative side for a while, and it was so much fun to study one of my favourite villains (anti-hero? she’s such a mysterious mess idk how to classify her) and her relationship with Sabrina. I also got to attempt writing desperation from the outsider’s perspective instead of the victim’s, and while I feel like I definitely still have room to improve with that, it was a nice break from the way I usually write my omo fics. I also got to shift around my writing style for this one, using words like ‘betwixt’ (which I love but never get to use lol) and using a bunch of metaphors and similes to showcase how Madam views Sabrina. This is probably the fic that makes it obvious that Language Arts was my favourite subject in school and that I’m Extra when it comes to predator/prey comparisons lmao. (Note: Please read the tags on this one, the Dead Dove: Do Not Eat warning applies here.)

I actually don’t know who else to send this to that I haven’t already, since like half the omo tag has vanished and I’m blanking on usernames, so if any of y'all are reading this post and you write fics: consider this me asking you to do it so I can hear about your fics! :D

#bear gets a letter #omorashi #fandomo #fictomo #ao3fic #might as well tag that since I have all the links here lmao

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fantasticworldoffanfics · 7 years

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TOP FAVS (PETER/STILES)

Fandom: TeenWolf

Baby Boy

Author: SushiOwl

Summary: What the heck is FetLife? Stiles is too curious for his own good, and he can't help himself, so he joins a website advertising to be a good place for "kinksters." He just wants to be nosy and see what total strangers are up to. Then he meets Peter, who wants to be called Daddy.

Could Stiles be his baby boy?

Red String Verse Series

Author: gryvon

Part 1: Written In Red

Summary: Peter had given up hope of ever finding his soulmate until the red string on his finger leads him to a four-year-old. He's going to Hell. Or jail. Or both.

Part 2: Red Strings

Summary: A collection of scenes that fit in with Written in Red, in no particular order.

Cuddle Therapy

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Summary: “Do not be alarmed; I am a cuddle therapist,” the omega said, continuing his shoulder nuzzles. His voice held all the authority of the police or an FBI Agent, not the cuddle therapist he claimed to be. Peter scoffed. Cuddly therapy was just an excuse for unmated alphas and omegas to go around throwing their musk and pheromones at anyone who looked twice in their direction.Where Peter is being grumpy in a museum and is interrupted by a very determined cuddle therapist.

Easement

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Summary: It wasn't where Peter wanted to end up after finishing his medical training; he would have much preferred an emergency room or even a maternity ward, instead of a pain clinic. His most frequent patients were teenagers with hangovers, women too shy to admit they were cramping, and perhaps the strangest of all – pain drain addicts, the people who'd gotten so used to have every minor ache and pain leeched from their bones that they mistook merely being alive as a great discomfort.

Stiles is in pain, he goes to Peters office for relief.

Mile High Stiles

Author: AzulMountain

Summary: Flight attendant Stiles Stilinkski's day couldn't get any worse when he spots the smoldering gaze of the asshole who assaulted him earlier and claimed he was kidnapping the strawberry blonde toddler. Then the father of the toddler saunters through the plane's front door and says something about his good service a mile high. Really how could things get worse? Rival werewolves and a plane crash are just the beginning of Stiles horrible day.

Of Alphas and Werebunnies Series

Author: TriscuitsandSoup

Part 1: Peter’s Omega

Summary: After Peter declined the twentieth family supper on account of Stiles "not feeling well," Talia decided to send her eldest son to checkup on Peter and his omega, and remove him if necessary. Derek had expected to find the worst, and that's what he found, just not in the way he was expecting.

Part 2: Adventures With Werecoons

Summary: Laura didn't believe Derek when he said Stiles wasn't being abused. Her mean-spirited, cruel, dripping with sarcasm uncle could not love a weak, spastic human, like the one Derek described.Series

Part 3: Fangs Don’t Fix Things

Summary: "Do you resent me for not being a werewolf?" Might as well just be upfront about it, I guess.Stiles is feeling insecure about his relationship with Peter, and wonders if things might be better if he were a werewolf.

Part 4: Looking Forward To It

Summary: Stiles never wanted an Alpha, and Peter never considered taking another Omega. The two would never even have met if Talia Hale hadn't insisted Peter screen potential mating candidates for her son, Derek. Their first meeting was a tumultuous one. How Peter met Stiles, and how they subsequently became mates. This can be read without the other parts.

Sanctuary

Author: DiscontentedWinter

Summary: The Hale Wolf Sanctuary isn’t just for wolves.It turns out it’s for Stilinskis as well.

Alpha Peter and The Rag Tags Series

Author: Triangulum

Part 1: Alpha Peter and The Rag Tags

Summary: Derek has been one of Stiles' best friends for years, almost as long as Scott. They've been friends through Stiles' mom's death, and through Derek's ex trying to burn the Hales' house down. So Stiles only feels slightly badly for ogling Derek's hot uncle. He's covered in tattoos and easily the most attractive man Stiles has ever seen."Hello, Stiles," Peter says, his voice like silk."Peter?" Stiles stammers. "You're back.""Astute as ever," Peter says."Oh, fuck off," Stiles says. Peter just laughs.

The one where Peter is a tattoo artist and an alpha without a pack, and Stiles is college student and best friends with Derek. When Peter moves back from New York, there's immediately something between them.

Part 2: Ragtags Rising

Summary: Peter takes Stiles' hand and lets Stiles draw him into bed, immediately wrapping around Stiles like he's his favorite toy. He presses a kiss behind Stiles’ ear before whispering, "I love you."Stiles loves that about Peter. Peter won't give him useless platitudes or promise it'll all be okay. Peter doesn't pry. He can probably smell Stiles' sadness and will ask about it tomorrow, but he doesn't push tonight. Peter just supports him, reminds him that he's loved, and holds him tightly. That's what Stiles needs, not a pat on the head and a Hallmark movie heart-to-heart about people meaning well.Stiles snuggles into Peter's embrace and sighs, trying to let go of the hurt and betrayal and focus on the man he's with."I love you, too."

Peter's tattoo shop is doing well, Stiles is finally done with college, the pack is settling in, everyone's tattooed all over the place, and Stiles is ridiculously in love. The big question marks in Stiles' life are his future, if he should tell Scott about werewolves, and how to deal with the fact that the sheriff isn't a fan of Peter. Among other things.

Roommate Wanted: No Supernatural Creatures Allowed

Author: veterization

Summary: Stiles is in college, living in a pleasant apartment, and absolutely does not need a roommate. He ends up getting one anyway, and as luck would have it, his roommate turns out to be Peter.

Little Boy Blues

Author: Bam4Me

Summary: Stiles is tiny and cute, pack is protective, that's all you need in life.

Littlered And Alpha5

Author: Triangulum

Summary: Stiles could say that he's a grower not a shower, but that would be a lie. On a good day, fully erect, he's three inches long. Okay, two-and-a-half. Whatever, it works for him. It's what got him into camming in the first place. There's a very specific clientele out there that's looking for exactly what Stiles has. The lithe, gay guy with a small dick is a very niche market and Stiles has managed to carve out his own place in it. The fact that he's a virgin only helps.OrStiles is a camboy and Peter is his best client.

Uncle Peter Doesn’t Date Series

Author: Mellow (SweetCandy)

Part 1: Uncle Peter Has A Boyfriend...Wait, What?

Summary: Laura was prepared for whatever piece of armcandy her uncle had decided to show up with, what she hadn't been prepared for was Stiles Stilinski...her uncle's boyfriend.

Part 2: Uncle Peter Has A Father In Law

Summary: Laura has to suffer through the weekly family dinner.

Part 3: Uncle Peter Is A Cheater

Summary: Peter Hale and his soon to be father in law have a deep dark secret. He can only hope Stiles never finds out about this.

Part 4: Uncle Peter Has A Double Date

Summary: Derek has dinner at his Uncle's house. Things turn out to be different than he expected.

Part 5: Uncle Peter Has Fallen In Love

Summary: A little piece about Peter and Stiles' first meeting.

Surprise, I’m Engaged?

Author: lavenderlotion

Summary: Stiles Stilinski has been dating Peter Hale for nearly 5 years. He proposed 8 months ago. Neither of their families know. Huh.

I’m Not Being Paid

Author: lavenderlotion

Summary: All Stiles wanted to do was meet his fiance's family. After being together for three years (engaged for one of them) Stiles thought it was time. And yeah, Peter had told him the stories. Told him that his family wasn't great, but Stiles never realized it could be this bad.

sidenote: sequel to Surprise, I’m Engaged? of sorts.

Where Do We Run? Series

Author: islandgirl_246

Part 1: Running...But Not Far Enough

Summary: When heartbreak almost shatters Stiles, he seeks refuge away from the pack, away from his friends and everyone he knows; away from anything supernatural - or so he thought. The chain reaction his 'escape' triggers proves he may not have run as far as he'd hoped, because he's about to find a new home but kick-start a war the fates had always planned.

Part 2: When Running Becomes A Pain

Summary: Stiles gave Derek some advice and a warning before he was sent off to Iowa to heal after his torture at the hands of Kate and Gerard Argent. Being partly responsible for hunters almost having access to exterminate your family is a bitter pill for anyone to swallow. Realising you are just as fucked up as your now dead mother is no better. He doesn’t want to be saved, he knows this. But then he meets a woman with an even darker and murkier past that he has. Could she be his way back? Does he even deserve one?

Part 3: I Run So You Won’t Have To

Summary: After everything the Hale Packs, both in Stanford and Beacon Hills have been through, Lydia and Maria thought why not give this thing a try. The interest and attraction is there, they are both strong women, they could do the distance thing, surely. The only problem is neither is sure that this is the right step for them, which leads to complications for the two Packs only now getting back on their feet. And it all gets even more complicated when Stiles encounters previously peaceful packs dying in weird brutal attacks.

Part 4: Maybe We Can Run Together

Summary: Parrish has somehow always felt like an outcast. He’s not let it show very much, but there it is. As a hell hound there are certain expectations and he carries a certain amount of guilt about what happened to the Stilinski family under his watch. Now he is about to be confronted by his family, a lineage that can be traced back to purebreds for more than 2000 years, about his relationship with a bitten wolf. Added to which, threats are moving closer to home.

Part 5: The Runaway

Summary: When a lost young girl turns up on the Hale’s doorstep in Beacon Hills, scared and with a photo of Peter, it seems like he has a daughter he’s never known of. Everything about her story seems so farfetched, yet Peter is inclined to believe it, something in him believes. Stiles isn’t so sure because when asked for details about her mother, the girl doesn’t remember, and interestingly enough, she’s the one person that’s totally unreadable to Stiles. Is her story true and does his mate have a teenaged daughter no one knew about? And how do they deal with it as more supernatural packs are being attacked and abducted by wolves they still can’t track and like this new girl – that Stiles can’t sense?

Alpha, Oh Alpha Series

Author: merkkat

Part 1: He Who Finds The Dead

Summary: Stiles finds himself alone. Peter changes that.Or the first meeting.

Part 2: Between The Dead And Living

Summary: The first meeting, from Peter's eyes

Part 3: The Sun, My Love, So Soft

Summary: The morning sun was soft on Stiles. His brave little human. So fragile yet braver than any wolf he knew.

Part 4: Bleed For You

Summary: Peter gets jealous. Stiles doesn't really try to stop him.

Part 5: More Dead Than Alive

Summary: The Sheriff looks back on his relationship with Stiles

Part 6: Hellos To The Goodbyes

Summary: Peter and Stiles visit each other's family.

Is Forever Enough?

Author: Green

Summary: Stiles probably doesn't even think they're friends. But labels don't matter to Peter — the boy is his, and his wolf agrees. So when a squalling baby girl is dropped off at his doorstep at the ungodly hour of ten in the morning, there's no one else Peter can think of to call.

Fame Is A Vapor

Author: Triangulum

Summary: Most people wouldn't assume Peter likes baseball. There are a lot of stereotypes that come with being a bisexual man in fashion, and one of them is that he must hate sports and typical 'manly' things. Such blind assumptions and gender roles are, of course, ridiculous, but he's not above using them to sneak off when his PR team gets a little too gung ho on his speaking events.He's wanted at various fashion schools and charity events, and he has the Project Runway team pestering him to guest judge again, as if he doesn't have his hands full with running Hale Fashion. It's taken years of hard work and maybe a little bit of blackmail, but he's the head of his own company, and he thinks he deserves an afternoon off.OrPeter, rich and famous fashion mogul, accidentally spills his beer on Stiles at a baseball game. Stiles has no clue who he is. That makes their first date so much better.

Rabbit Verse Series

Author: Bunnywest

Summary: Peter loves to hunt. Stiles is his (too willing )prey.

sidenote: there is literally 32 parts to this series so here is the first chpt. Run, Rabbit Run

Dahlia Emmeline Hale Series

Author: Triangulum

Part 1: Moonlight Dahlia

Summary: There, at the base of the trunk, nestled between two large roots, is a car seat and in it, a baby. Stiles and Peter both freeze, staring down in shock. The baby is asleep, bundled up tightly, a soft orange wool hat on its head and an envelope pinned to its blanket. Stiles stares at Peter incredulously, but he doesn't know what to say either. OR So it turns out Peter has a daughter.

Part 2: Halloween Traditions

Summary: Dahlia is dressed in a poufy orange pumpkin costume and Stiles thinks it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen. Dahlia had declared she'd wanted to be a pumpkin for Halloween and Kira had immediately made the costume for her. With her orange tights and bright green stem beret-style hat on top of her soft, brown hair, she's the best pumpkin ever. Considering she's his daughter, Stiles may be a little biased. OR Halloween with Peter, Stiles, and Dahlia.

Part 3: Peter In The Suburbs

Summary: "As much as I love seeing you in the shirt I bought you," Stiles says, nodding down the plaid button up Peter has on, "I thought I told you to stop making the neighbors cry?""He isn't crying," Peter says. "He'll probably wait until he's in the comfort of his own home to do that." OR Pointless fluff inspired by Ian's damn GMC commercial.

more top favourites

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5

#teenwolf #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #peter hale #stiles stilinski #steter #topfavs

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ramendobe · 7 years

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Tag thing! And raised from the dead. I’ll be back tomorrow for u guys. IM COMINNGGG

Its 4:33 AM and I should probably just go the heckin to sleep but

Tagged by @maybeawriter6 , THANK U SM :D

1ST RULE: Tag 9 people you would like to know better

2ND RULE: BOLD the statements that are true

APPEARANCE: I am 5'7" or taller I wear glasses I have at least one tattoo I have at least one piercing I have blonde hair (At the moment) I have brown eyes I have short hair My abs are at least somewhat defined I have or have had braces

PERSONALITY: I love meeting new people (Online. Meeting new people out in the world GETS ME JUMPY. I dont dislike, but i wouldnt say that I LOVE it.) People tell me that I’m funny Helping others with their problems is a big priority for me I enjoy physical challenges I enjoy mental challenges I’m playfully rude with people I know well I started saying something ironically and now I can’t stop saying it There is something I would change about my personality

ABILITY: I can sing well I can play an instrument I can do over 30 pushups without stopping I’m a fast runner I can draw well I have a good memory I’m good at doing math in my head (LMAO this guy...) I can hold my breath underwater for over a minute I have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling I know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch I know how to throw a proper punch

HOBBIES: I enjoy playing sports I’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else I’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else I have learned a new song in the past week I work out at least once a week I’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months I have drawn something in the past month I enjoy writing (These damn fiction iDEAS AINT GONNA WRITE THEMSELVES. ALright but im like obsessed with megamind fanfic ideas even if nobody gives two shits about them) FANDOMS ARE MY #1 PASSION (!!!!!) I do or have done martial arts

EXPERIENCES: I have had my first kiss I have had alcohol (I dont really drink it, cause it tastes hella bad of all the drinks I’ve tried. But I wouldnt mind drinking if its something that tastes nice ayyyy) I have scored the winning goal in a sports game I have watched an entire season of a TV show in one sitting (The Flash.............dont ask.) I have been at an overnight event I have been in a taxi I have been in the hospital or ER in the past year I have beaten a video game in one day I have visited another country (Poland out of all places. Had a field trip with my old school a couple of years ago) I have been to one of my favorite band’s concerts

RELATIONSHIPS: I’m in a relationship I have a crush on a celebrity I have a crush on someone I know I have been in at least 3 relationships I have never been in a relationship I have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them I get crushes easily I have had a crush on someone for over a year I have been in a relationship for at least a year I have had feelings for a friend (My life in one sentence)

MY LIFE: I have at least one person I consider a “best friend” I live close to my school My parents are still together I have at least one sibling I live in the United States There is snow right now where I live I have hung out with a friend in the past month I have a smartphone I have at least 15 CDs (15 CD’s of crap, BOOM) I share my room with someone

RANDOM SHIT: I have breakdanced (But it didnt look fucken pretty nor anything. I was a kid. I was rolling around the floor “HEY BRAH LOOK AT ME HAHALOLOL AY GON BE REAL SEXEYSMOOTH COOL) I know a person named Jamie I have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce I have dyed my hair I’m listening to one song on repeat right now I have punched someone in the past week (me and my brother has some serious fighting going on. He ATE. MY BREAD. MY LAST PIECE OF BREAD, I WAS SAVING THAT LIL SHIT TIL THE END OF TIME AND HE JUST.....*sobs gently*) I know someone who has gone to jail I have broken a bone I have eaten a waffle today I know what I want to do with my life I speak at least 2 languages I have made a new friend in the past year

tag for: (DONT KNOW WHO’S BEEN TAGGED OR NOT BUT) @anakinkshamer , @thestarsaresilver , @margoteve , @followmetoyourdoom , @elf-kid2 , @ladyspock7 , @super-fensy .´Also gonna be a total creep and tag some of you guys that i dont really converse with but see you guys around everywhere CAUSE HELLO THERE FRIENDS @oceansgratitude , @owmygiantbluehead , @angrymarshmellow , @parrotfishteeth , @welcometomytwistedmegamind , @getoffmytoast ,ok I would tag more but this is getting....EYAH. Also, whoever wants to do this, feel free to get yourselves tagged by me, I wouldnt mind learning more about you, folks! :D

#tag #tag thing #ramendobe

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thestarsofthenight · 7 years

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Chapter 3: The Phantom Protector of Great Britain

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji/Black Butler

Pairings: mainly Ciel Phantomhive/Elizabeth Midford

Summary: “There is nothing more ridiculous than living in a country in which an orange-skinned man won an election,” Francis had said, ending the Midfords four-year-long stay in the USA. Three days later, Elizabeth lives in gloomy London, wishing to be back in sunny LA, when a murder case suddenly turns her life upside down, entangling her with Ciel Phantomhive, his duty to the crown, and his school-intern detective agency…

Navigation: Chapter Index

“Wherever this shadowed path might lead, we were both irrevocably committed to follow it to the end.” ― Susan Kay, Phantom

London, England, United Kingdom – November 2016

She did not know when she had started to run.

A second ago, Elizabeth had witnessed a murder, and now, her feet were carrying her as far away from the crime scene as possible. And while she ran, records of what she had seen found their ways back to her mind.

The metallic smell of blood.

The murderer, stabbing and stabbing their victim even though they were long dead.

The victim’s muffled, dying screams.

There is no way that I will ever forget them, Elizabeth thought while running and running and cursing her bag with the chocolates and her bag with the bagels for not allowing her to run faster.

Eventually, despite the adrenaline pushing her body to go farther, her lungs started to burn so badly that she could only stop. Elizabeth collapsed against the wall of a building, trying to catch her breath. She had no clue where she was. She had no clue if the murderer had seen her or not. What if she had started to run without checking that first? What if they had noticed her running away and went after her?

The thought turned her blood to ice.

No, a voice in her head suddenly said – the voice belonging to the part of her head which was still sane despite everything. Someone was killed. There is a killer on the loose. You have to go to the police. You need to report this. Staying here will only decrease your chance of surviving if the murderer really followed you. You will be safe with the police.

Elizabeth pulled herself away from the wall, her legs feeling wobbly. Because her hands were shaking and she was still holding the bag with the bagels, taking out her phone proved quite difficult. If leaving the bagels wouldn’t make it easier for the killer to track her, she would have thrown the bag away ages ago. When Elizabeth had finally managed to get her mobile, she tried to dial the police’s number, but stopped herself right before clicking on “call.” What if her voice was too shaky? What if the person on the other side of the line couldn’t understand her? Was making a phone call in an unknown place while possibly being followed by a killer the best idea?

No, not here, definitely not here, her rational part said and forced her run farther to a more crowded place and into some shop.

After Elizabeth had walked through the entire shop a few times while calming herself down, she looked up the location of the closest police station.

It is only a few minutes away. Thank God, it is only a few minutes away.

And these few minutes gave her new strength to make her feet move.

***

The police station was awfully ugly. “Police” was written in capital letters over the entrance of the grey building, and a lonely London flag was fluttering miserably in the wind.

Elizabeth took a deep breath before entering the police station.

“Good evening, how can I help ya?” the policeman in charge said, looking up from what looked like a comic, and frowned. “Isn’t it a bit late for you to walk around on a school day?”

Elizabeth glimpsed at a clock and saw that it was a little after ten o’clock. When had it got so late? She had no idea.

“I,” she began, her voice hoarse and her throat dry. “I...”

“Stop stuttering, kid, and tell me what the matter is. Lost your parents? Someone stole your lolly?”

“There was a murder somewhere around here,” Elizabeth managed to say, falling into a nearby chair.

The policeman’s eyes widened. “Woah, woah, girl! You’ve seen a murder?”

Elizabeth nodded faintly. Her mind was drifting away to the crime scene, but she blinked away the image of the street painted red. Focus. “Yes. In... in Whitechapel, around Brick Lane.”

The policeman raised an eyebrow and put his hands under the counter. It was a strange movement. It had been meant to be subtle, but Elizabeth’s clouded brain still managed to catch it. She tried to analyse what he was doing, but, somehow, she did not manage to grab a clear thought.

“And you are not lying to me? Kids like you come to me all the time to prank me. Not cool. Absolutely not cool. They always prank me because they believe that Detective Inspector Marty Card is an easy victim. Can you imagine that? Can you believe that? Kids nowadays are all idiots. I am not the idiot here. Definitely not.” The policeman, Marty Card, took out a piece of paper before frowning at her. “You are not kidding me, right? Joking about murder is bad. Joking about such a murder is even worse. False information could cost me my job. Perhaps even my head. I cling to my head. I think it’s a nice head, not particularly pretty, but still nice. Has a nice shape, don’t you think?”

With her head feeling heavy, Elizabeth barely managed to nod at Marty’s words. In the alley, this one voice in her head had told her that she would feel safe with the police. But, for some reason, she did not feel secure at all. Elizabeth grabbed the rim of her skirt. Her heart was racing, her body tensed. What if the murderer knew that Marty was in charge today? If children knew when he worked, did grown-ups too? Did this one grown-up know? What if the killer had followed her and decided to get rid off her right here and now in this police station because they knew that only Marty was here? What if they murdered them both? She dug her fingers deeper into the fabric of her skirt.

“Hello? Are you listening to me, kid?” Marty’s voice snapped her back to reality.

She stared at him with wide eyes. “Hm?”

“I asked: Was that a nod for the kidding part or the head part?”

When Elizabeth didn’t reply and simply kept staring at him, he only sighed. “Not very talkative, are you? For now, I am believing you because I don’t think you are that much of an actress to fool me, Mighty Marty. So... for the protocol, what is your name?”

***

It was little after 10 pm when Ciel’s late night ice-cream eating was disturbed.

Regularly, Ciel would eat ice-cream even if it was already late. He did not even care about the fact that it was late autumn. After all, it might be cold outside, but it was quite warm inside his townhouse. Thus it was fairly reasonable to eat ice-cream even on an icy November day. Ciel especially liked it to sit next to a window on the ground floor while eating so that he could watch the passersby shuddering in the coldness while being warm and comfortable himself.

But today, he was sitting in his office, and thus, could see the tiny red lamp going on on his desk. The alarm used to make a sound too but Sebastian had once changed the ring tone from the Toccata by Johann Sebastian Bach to the cat song from The Big Bang Theory when his master hadn’t been there. Annoyed, Ciel had removed this function upon finding out about this change.

Ciel had made the alarm himself: It was connected to Scotland Yard, and every time someone pressed a certain button in one of their police stations, the small lamp lit up in his office. Next to this button, Ciel had let little, foldout, and extractable keyboards to be installed so that whoever had pressed the button could send him a short message, telling him what was going on. Then, the message would appear on a small display on the alarm cube. Another display showed the number of the police station from where the message had been sent.

He leaned forward and read the message: “S7616 – around Brick Lane, Muscle. Manor: circle. DI Right Brother.”

Ciel himself had invented the code and was quite proud of it. It had not been the easiest task to teach it to the police, though. The message, decrypted, meant:

Serial murder case: New Whitechapel Murders – around Brick Lane, now. Witness: a female. DI Marty Card.

Ciel frowned. A witness? That was strange. There had never been a witness to this case. But Ciel could not think longer about it as the message had said that the murder was happening right now. Apparently, the witness has immediately run to the next police station. Interesting. He stood up and called Sebastian.

***

Less than two minutes later, Ciel and Sebastian arrived at the scene of the crime, but the criminal was already gone. It looked like the other crime scenes which Ciel had seen in the photographs the Queen had included in her letter: The horrifyingly mangled victim was lying in a pool of blood. Her eyes were staring up at the dark sky as if she was trying to pledge Heaven for mercy. Ciel couldn’t help but to bitterly chuckle at this sight. Mercy. What a joke.

“Sebastian – search the crime scene for things which seem important or odd,” Ciel ordered.

Normally, a crime scene is secured first, then thoroughly documented by taking photographs and drawing sketches before evidence is collected. But if you have a demon butler and are the Watchdog, things work a little bit differently.

“Yes, Mylord,” Sebastian replied, his eyes glowing bright red, and began to work.

“What now, Young Master?” the butler asked a few minutes later, closing the last plastic bag.

“That someone witnessed the murder is bad enough,” Ciel meant, walking back and forth. “We cannot allow anyone else to see the crime scene again.”

“And what do you suggest, Mylord?”

“You need to restore the street’s appearance before the murder took place. Like that, this case will stay the secret it has been since the first murder.” Ciel looked up at Sebastian. “Sebastian – I order you to restore the street’s appearance, and when you’re done to bring me to Marty Card’s police station. There is someone we need to speak.”

***

“Come to think of it, Lizzy, you were not hallucinating, were you?”

After Elizabeth had calmed herself by slowly and deeply breathing in and out and after Marty had given her cup by cup of tea, she had been somehow able to answer Marty’s questions – told him her name and contact data and all she knew about the crime – even if she could only vaguely remember what had happened.

At which time did you see the murder? I am not sure. I think sometime after nine o’clock.

What did the murderer look like? I can’t remember.

Did he have a weapon? No. Wait... yes. A knife. The killer had a knife.

Eventually, Marty had decided that saying “Miss Midford” all the time was too troublesome and started to call her “Lizzy” instead without her permission.

“I am only asking because I’ve noticed that your backpack is full of chocolate and that you have a plastic bag full of Rainbow Bagels. Too much sugar can do strange things to some people, you know? Some become hyperactive, some start hallucinating. Could also be that I am mixing this up with some other white substance, though.” Marty shrugged. “Nevertheless, can I have some? I am starving. The others went home early, leaving me with all the work. Can you believe that? They work for the police, justice and righteousness and all, and then they leave their coworker to do everything! Didn’t have time to grab something to eat. Could be that I started doodling food on the documents I had to fill out.”

Elizabeth threw him a Rainbow Bagel. It nearly fell to the ground because she didn’t have the strength anymore to throw it properly. His hunger, apparently, gave Marty the power to dive headlong over the counter and catch the bagel a centimetre over the ground with the grace and elegance of a drunk cat.

“Caught it!” he happily exclaimed before returning to his original position behind the counter. “Never thought that I am so sporty, right?” Marty ate the bagel like a savage. “Oh, Heavenly Rainbow Bagel! Without you, I would have died of hunger. You coming here was truly a gift of Heaven, Lizzy! When we forget the murder part, though.”

“When do you think my parents will come?” Elizabeth asked him. She felt tired, and her brain kept repeating the screams of the victim again and again. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be with her parents and brother. She wanted to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow and find out that all of this had been a mad, mad dream. What were the odds to witness a murder on your first day of school?

“I didn’t notify them,” Marty said, licking the bagel crumbs from his fingers.

Elizabeth blinked at him, the fog over her mind suddenly lifted. “What?”

“That means ‘Excuse me,’” he corrected her. “Also, if I had called them, they would have come to see and get their baby duck – Babies of a duck are called ‘ducklings,’ right? Like in The Ugly Duckling; to see and get their duckling then. However, I cannot allow that. Someone high-up will want to talk to you. And if I mean ‘high-up’ I mean ‘scarily high-up.’ He can do things no other citizens of Britain can. Cannot afford to enrage this guy. Like I’ve said, I cling to my head. And I know what you’re thinking ‘It’s the 21st century, and we are in a civilised country, nobody gets executed and incapacitated here!’ But I have to tell you otherwise: He has the power to wander outside of law, he does not care if we are still in the 21st century and that I have a nice head I cling to.”

“Who is this ‘scarily high-up’ person?” Elizabeth wanted to know.

“‘The Phantom Protector of Great Britain’!” Marty theatrically said, spreading his arms. “His work and existence are one of the best-kept secrets in the entire United Kingdom. And I am one of the secret keepers. It’s such an honour!”

“Which you have just told me.”

“Excuse me?” he blinked at her.

“‘His work and existence is one of the best kept secrets in the entire United Kingdom.’ And you have just told me about him.”

Marty immediately turned very, very pale. “Oh God, what have I done? I will be killed for sure. Beheaded like this dumb queen with her pimped out dress and white, stinky wig –”

“Marie Antoinette.”

“– Mary Anton!” he continued in a scream.

Then, to Marty’s horror, the door to the police station opened. He shrieked and jumped out of his chair. Elizabeth’s body temperature increased – What if it’s the killer? she thought between two raced heartbeats –, and she craned her head to see who had entered the station. And as soon as she saw who had come, her body temperature promptly dropped – her initial, unreasonable fear – Marty had told her that someone was coming after all – being replaced by cold disbelief.

Only a few metres away from her stood a person she knew. A person who had just turned around and whose eyes widened at the sight of her just like her own did.

Cute Shortie.

***

Ten minutes later, Elizabeth Midford was sitting in the back seat of a Bentley. A 1954er R-type continental. One of the only 208 which had ever been created, instinctively crossed her mind. Growing up with an older brother and a father with a deep love for old and rare things, especially cars, had left marks on her. Furthermore, ever since she had been a child, facts and numbers had a comforting effect on her. And now, it helped her to keep her mind from drifting away again.

King Henry VIII never slept without an axe beside him.

Two-thirds of the world’s population has never seen snow.

The first three digits of pi are 3.14. Backwards, these numbers spell “pie.”

Four is considered to be an unlucky number in some Asian countries as their names for “four” sound similar to their words for “death.”

In Thailand, “five” is pronounced as “ha.” 555 would be “ha ha ha.”

The national anthem of Greece consists of 158 stanzas, but, normally, only the first two are sung.

The tradition to buy a white dress which is specially made and worn for and on your wedding started with Queen Victoria in 1840. Before that, women wore dresses to their weddings which they could wear afterwards too. Also, these dresses could be of any colour.

People suffering from Capgras delusion believe that someone close to them, for example a good friend or family members, was replaced by a doppelganger.

One year after the tragedy of the Titanic, the International Ice Patrol came into existence. Its purpose is to warn ships of icebergs.

Even though Buddhism originates from India, only around one percent of Indians are Buddhists. Most of them are Hindus.

Ciel Phantomhive is the “Phantom Protector of Great Britain.”

Half an hour later, the Bentley stopped, and Ciel’s butler, a tall man with black hair and peculiar eyes, opened the door for Elizabeth. She left her bags inside the car, and the butler helped her to get out. The instance she saw where they were, her eyes widened.

Why did they bring me to school?

Quietly, Elizabeth followed Ciel and his butler to Blue House, and the butler opened a door for them which said “McMillan & Phantomhive Detective Agency – Chocolate for Investigating.” Ciel entered the room and sat down behind a large desk, and as soon as Elizabeth had stepped through the door too, the butler closed it behind her, leaving the two of them alone.

As weak as a kitten, Elizabeth fell onto a sofa. The entire day had been awfully draining. First, she had been late to school. Then, she had lost her diary and became witness to murder. Now, she was sitting inside a Detective Agency at her school with the ominous “Phantom Protector of Great Britain” opposite from her – who had turned out to be the boy she had run into this very morning.

“I thought that it would be better if we could talk in a calm environment,” Ciel started, turning on a table lamp which was barely able to illuminate the room. “The police station is rather... loud with Card in charge.” He leaned back. “Let me introduce me first: My name is Ciel Phantomhive, the Earl of Phantomhive – but I guess that you have already known that.”

Blood rushed into Elizabeth’s cheeks, and she was thankful for the dim light. “I am Elizabeth Midford.”

She could faintly see Ciel raising one of his eyebrows. “Midford? Like in Marquess Alexis Leon Midford?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. I am his daughter.”

“I see.”

Ciel wanted to continue, but a question suddenly blurted out of Elizabeth and cut him off: “How come you are ‘The Phantom Protector of Great Britain’?”

He blinked at her. “Excuse me?”

Elizabeth’s cheeks turned bright red. “That’s what Marty Card called you,” she mumbled.

“Card?” She could hear Ciel chuckle. “Nobody calls me that.”

Elizabeth looked up, and Ciel continued: “But that is, more or less, a description of what I am and what I do.” Ciel’s next words froze the blood in her veins.

“I am the Watchdog of the Queen – the secret executive organ, the private detective, and private assassin of Her Majesty the Queen Elizabeth the Second.

“I am the detective in charge of this murder case; and, unfortunately, you, Lady Midford, have to work with me now.”

#the stars of the night #the whitechapel copycat arc #elizabeth midford #ciel x lizzy #ciel phantomhive #cielizzy #kuroshitsuji #black butler #modern au #fanfiction #school au #this chapter was hard to write

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chasingthecosmos · 5 years

Text

By Any Other Name

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: T Pairing: The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler (The Doctor/Clara Oswald, Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswald) Chapters: 14/26 Read on AO3 here.

“Rose Tyler was dying - or, at least, she was relatively certain that that’s what was happening …” A Season 7 AU where Rose returns to her home universe only to find that 100 years have passed and nothing is quite the way that she remembers it. She wakes up with a new body, a new life, and a new Doctor. What has the Bad Wolf gotten her into this time? The 50th Anniversary will be included in this story.

"Okay, so ... not London 1893 - Yorkshire 1893. Near enough!"

Rose watched with amused fascination as the Doctor bolted from the TARDIS and quickly assessed their new surroundings.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him but unable to hide the wry, upward turn of her lips.

"What?" the Doctor asked, whirling back to face her as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "What are you talking about? Doing what on purpose?"

"You keep taking us to the same sorts of places," Rose insisted, smoothing out the skirts of her period, late-nineteenth century dress as she watched him. "First the rings of Akhaten with all of the aliens, now we're all dressed up for the 1800s. I mean, is Charles Dickens going to be waiting just around the corner? Or, I don't know, have you got the Face of Boe tucked away somewhere?"

The Doctor gaped at her for a moment with a look of shocked offense. "This isn't the same!" he insisted, stepping closer and scowling down at her. "This is completely different! We went to Akhaten for a festival, not an 'end of the world' party - and there were carnivorous suns and zombies in pyramids! And this is way off from 1860s Cardiff - Charles Dickens has been dead for decades! And there was loads of stuff in between there, too, I'll have you know. Or have you already forgotten the Ice Warriors and the ghosts?"

"I don't know ..." Rose teased in a sing-song voice, "looks to me like you might be running out of ideas. Maybe you're just not as impressive as you used to be, eh, Doctor?"

"Oh, you ..." the Doctor growled, though his goofy smile took away from the menacing effect that he was attempting to muster up. "I'll show you impressive, Miss. Oswald."

And for once, the false name didn't irk her the way that it usually did. In fact, it excited Rose to know that even though the Doctor now knew her true name, he was keeping it to himself - a shared secret, just between the two of them. She grinned up at the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and sent out a silent prayer to the universe in hopes that maybe this time her happily-ever-after would actually last.

The Doctor was leaning so close to her now that Rose was beginning to wonder if he was actually going to just bend down and snog her right there against the side of his police box in broad daylight when a shrill, female scream suddenly rang out across the cobblestones around them. Both of them immediately glanced in the direction of the impending mystery and then flashed each other wide smiles out of the corners of their eyes.

"Impressed yet?" the Doctor muttered under his breath.

"Not yet," Rose teased. "Show me more."

He grabbed her hand with a wild smile and they were off without another word.

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

"Doctor and Mrs. Smith," Mrs. Gillyflower greeted them warmly. "Oh, yes, you'll do very nicely."

"Oh, grand. Smashing!" the Doctor exclaimed in a forced accent as he folded his hands behind his back and bounced joyfully on the balls of his feet. "Eh, the missus and I couldn't be more chuffed, could we, love?" He threw an arm around Rose's shoulders, pulling her tight to him as he smiled down at her in excitement.

Rose tilted her head towards the strange old woman and flashed her a sweet smile, but as soon as Mrs. Gillyflower's back was turned, she raised a dubious brow in the Doctor's direction.

"'Mrs. Smith'?" she hissed under her breath. "Didn't think I had enough aliases already?"

"Oh, come on, it's a great name!" the Doctor whispered back, his hand squeezing her shoulder encouragingly. "Easy to remember, too."

"It's a bit ... Bond, if you ask me," Rose muttered as they both nodded towards Mrs. Gillyflower with matching fake smiles and allowed her to lead them off further into the utopian paradise that she had set up. "And since when is your go-to cover story marriage? I remember back in the day when your one goal was to convince other people that we weren't a couple."

"Yes, yes, that was a long time ago," the Doctor replied, waving his hand at her dismissively. "I was young and restless, didn't want to be tied down."

"You were nine-hundred-and-one," Rose hissed through her teeth, shaking his arm off from around her shoulders so that she could tuck her hands primly against his elbow. "Love the voice, by the way," she whispered. "Miss the northern accent sometimes."

"Yes, and I miss the blonde hair every now and then, but you don't hear me going on about it," the Doctor grumbled under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rose demanded, her smile instantly falling away as she stared up at him with a mixture of surprise and hurt. "Have you got a problem with my new face?" The new face that she had taken on specifically so that she could be here with him, she thought bitterly.

"Oh, I certainly didn't say that," the Doctor replied, giving her a very pointed, appreciative once-over as he let his hand reach up to cover hers against his arm. Rose couldn't help but grin at his sly smile as he managed to instantly settle her self-conscious doubts.

Mrs. Gillyflower finally interrupted them, then, as she turned to see that they had fallen a good distance behind her. "It's always the same with you newlyweds," she called back to them good-naturedly. "You get so distracted by one another that you forget that you leave an old woman waiting."

"Oh, we're not newlyweds," the Doctor replied as he lengthened his stride to catch up with their hostess. "Just have a lot of catching up to do."

The elderly woman looked between the two of them with a lost expression, to which Rose piped up helpfully, "It's complicated."

Mrs. Gillyflower smiled and shook her head at them as she replied, "Well, nothing is complicated in Sweetville! In fact, I think you'll find very soon that you won't have to worry about a thing ever again."

But then she proceeded to show them into a room where she had people propped up like dolls beneath giant glass domes and things suddenly got just that much more complicated.

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

Rose came to in waves after she had somehow managed to survive Mrs. Gillyflower's strange preservation and containment process. She could hear voices talking around her, but her clouded mind couldn't quite seem to make sense of what they were saying.

"I know who you think she is, but she isn't."

"I was right, then. You and Clara have unfinished business!"

The world tilted then, and Rose finally blinked open her eyes as she stumbled forward and fell into the Doctor's waiting arms.

"Hello, stranger," he murmured gently as she blinked hard in an attempt to force her eyes to focus.

He was smiling down at her and with her thoughts still hazy and her inhibitions limited, Rose wasn't able to fight the urge to reach out and run her fingers clumsily over his lips. "Doctor ..." she hummed pleasantly, her own smile unfocused and goofy as she looked up at him through slightly hooded eyes.

The Doctor smirked against her fingertips as he shifted his grip on her and attempted to center her back on her own two feet again. "Clara," he whispered back, raising his eyebrows at her pointedly as though to make sure that she remembered that she had a new name and a role to play.

As Rose looked over his shoulder and her thoughts slowly fell back into alignment, she realized why he was being so cautious - they weren't alone. "Hi," she muttered awkwardly, staring up at the reptilian woman and her human counterpart standing just behind the Doctor. They looked familiar, but in her dazed state, Rose couldn't quite place where she knew them from. "What's going on?" she asked, turning back to the Doctor questioningly.

"Oh, haven't you heard, love?" he replied, throwing on his fake accent once more as he smiled down at her with affection. "There's trouble at the mill."

When Rose did nothing but continue to blink up at him without even a hint of comprehension, he threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of their companions and whispered, "She's a lizard."

"Yes, I can see that," Rose muttered sardonically as she finally forced herself to step out of the Doctor's supportive embrace. "But I'm almost certain that's not how she prefers to be introduced."

She stepped past the Doctor without another word and smiled brightly at the two women watching them, sticking out her hand in polite greeting. "Hello, let's try this again. I'm Clara," she introduced herself, not even pausing or stumbling over her fake name. "I'm sorry about him," she added, rolling her eyes in the Doctor's direction. "He's rubbish with introductions."

Rose's memories were slowly falling back into place once more and she realized suddenly that she recognized the two strangers from the Bad Wolf's trial run at Christmas. The human woman was the one to finally step forward and take Rose's hand, but even if Rose hadn't already seen the two women in action against the snowmen, it was easy to tell that the reptilian one was the mistress of the household - it was clear in the way that she carried herself.

"It's nice to meet you, Miss. Clara," the human woman replied with a nervous smile. "I'm Jenny, and this is Madame Vastra."

"Right!" Rose said, smiling cheerily as Vastra silently and suspiciously eyed her up and down. "It's nice to meet you both." Rose figured that it would be easier to pretend for now that she didn't know who they were, and let the Doctor decide what information was safe to divulge later.

"But Doctor, I don't understand ..." Madame Vastra muttered as she slid her weary gaze towards the Doctor.

"Yeah? Me, neither," the Doctor agreed breezily. "Nothing new, really - just try to make it up as I go along, mostly. Speaking of which, there's a crazy old lady dunking young, attractive humans into magic red slime. Anyone wanna take a crack at that one?"

Madame Vastra rolled her eyes in a long-suffering gesture that Rose knew only too well from her own personal use, and motioned for them to follow her further down the hallway. "This way," she instructed them hastily. "I think I might just know what's behind all of this ..."

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

After the leech from the dawn of time had been destroyed and Sweetville's factory had been shut down for good, the Doctor seemed eager to get Rose back into the TARDIS where he could conceal her from his other companions and their probing, curious gazes.

"Right, London! We were heading for London, weren't we?" he asked as he busily steered Rose away from Jenny, Vastra, and Strax and pointedly placed himself between her and their prying eyes.

"Was there any particular reason?" Rose asked, patiently allowing herself to be corralled back towards his time ship.

"No! No, just thought you might ... like it," the Doctor replied sheepishly, flashing her a nervous smile.

Rose narrowed her eyes on him in suspicion, but she nodded slowly and stepped obediently through the TARDIS doors all the same. "Don't be too long," she whispered under her breath as she flashed the Doctor a parting wink.

"You're the boss," he shrugged dismissively.

"Am I ...?" she asked, smiling suggestively in his direction.

The Doctor chuckled as he flashed her a wide grin, shoving his hands back into his pockets as he walked backwards away from her towards where the rest of their companions stood waiting. "'Course you are," he replied quietly. "Never been able to say no to you, have I?"

Rose smiled at him as he raised his eyebrows at her and then spun on his heel to make their final excuses and farewells. He didn't take long at all and Rose couldn't help but feel a little guilty for leaving Jenny, Vastra, and Strax in the dark, but she knew that until more could be known about her current situation, it was probably best to limit the knowledge of her true existence as much as possible.

"So are we really going back to London?" Rose asked curiously as she rounded the console and watched the Doctor set their next destination.

He whipped off his period bowler hat and spun it wildly off into one of the surrounding balconies before roughly scrubbing his hands through his hair as he spun to face her. "Sure! Why not?" he exclaimed as he flashed her a wide smile. "Figured we'd check up on our dear Clara and the little life that she left behind, what do you say?

"I suppose so ..." Rose replied slowly, frowning slightly at the console controls as she thought back to the small, unfamiliar house and the strange family that she had left behind. Why had the Bad Wolf placed her there in the first place? Who were those people? Just how far did this alias go?

"We don't have to, you know," the Doctor reminded her after a few moments of watching her deflated expression. "We've got whole universes to see - all of it out there, just waiting for you, Rose Tyler."

Rose flashed him a winning smile, wondering what she had ever done to deserve such a fantastic, impossible man in her life. "London it is, then," she agreed, nodding at him with firm approval. "Domestics first, then you can show me the stars."

The Doctor grinned and offered her a mock salute before yanking hard on the dematerialization lever and sending them whirling back to the present day.

#doctor who #dw #fanfiction #fanfic #dw fanfic #dw fanfiction #doctor who fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #the doctor #rose tyler #eleventh doctor #eleven/rose #elevenxrose #the doctor/rose #the doctorxrose

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