#because I’ve been in a horrid mood

[knavesflames]

ELISE ELISE!!! VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION!!

have you played Elden ring? If yeah, any tought about Malenia? 👀

If you havent played... Well just google the name and share opinion. Im very curious :D

I have not! I did, however, look up the name.

One chance. That’s all I really have to say. I think, if I’ve searched correctly anyway, she looks badass. She could and would kill me I fear and I’m completely okay with that.

My toxic trait is thinking I could take change the hot women. There are too many hot women in the world >:( I could change them guys. I could. I just know it.

[teamfortresstwo]

Eughhh,,, feeling like shit cause I suck at Hades now because I stopped caring about improving in the game but I didn’t think it would make me backslide so much…

[cocteaucherry]

what to expect when you’re expecting

dad!nanami x f!reader

cws- pregnancy, 18+, talk of sexual situations, Nanami worrying, overall fluff, this is during Nanami’s office era, mood swings, talk of morning sickness

a/n- (in the mood for fluffy jjk dad stuff prepare yourselves these next few weeks

once you and nanami found out you were pregnant you couldn’t fully describe the joy in his tired eyes.

Tears streamed down both your cheeks as he held your stomach delicately with pure love.

The first month was pure study and nanami clinging to you as much as he could before being whisked away to his shitty office job,

When nights came, Nanami sat up with you reading from the cliche book ‘what to expect when you’re expecting’ his glasses perched upon his nose.”

“Ken, how many of these books are you planning to buy?” A giggle came from your throat as Nanami bent the page corner, placing the book down to wrap his arms around your soft belly, “As many as we need for our family.”

month three came and you were sure your baby hated you, you’d wake up with a severe headache and a need to vomit rushing to the bathroom to throw up everywhere in the toilet. It wasn’t too horrid though as your husband rubbed your back holding your hair gently in his free hand,

You felt like sobbing when he found you like this every other morning but he reassured you with soft words and kisses, “Angel, Y’know I’ve seen every part of you? You vomiting is really nothing bad.” He’d hum gripping your hand softly.

Although Nanami kissed the ground you walked on, your mood swings seem to cause a challenge for both you and his love driven mind for you.

You’d cry and lash out at him in seemingly ten seconds, apologizing with more tears thereafter. He vaguely remembered when you broke down in his arms because you forgot yeast for the homemade bread you were making for him that night.

“I ruined everything!” You’d sob into his chest and Nanami stood frigid just softly patting your back, “y/n it’s okay really I’ve been meaning to lay off the bread-“

“Oh, so you wouldn’t have liked it anyway!” Your voice would raise as he cleared his throat, “y/n I didn’t mean it like that-“

month five came and you were showing even more, your shirts becoming involuntarily cropped as you sighed staring at yourself in the mirror. “Ken! Do you think Yaga would be mad at this outfit?” You hummed, rubbing your hand softly over your exposed belly.

“Yaga maybe, I know Gojo would try to make a spectacle.”’

You grinned, “Like, how come she’s allowed to wear crop tops but when I do it?” You said trying your best to impersonate his voice which made Nanami smile softly.

“Exactly.”

month six came and it seemed everyone around you was pestering you about whether your baby was a boy or a girl, and when it came to you and nanami you never really cared.

“Kennn,” you said in a sing-songy voice as you took a break from painting the nursery wall, Nanami sat trying to build the way to a difficult crib, “yes my love?” He asked.

“How would you feel if we did a private gender reveal? I don’t really feel like making this a whole deal.”

“‘Course, we’ll do whatever you like baby.”

Later that week nanami and you found out through a pink filled cake you’d be having a girl.

And best believe you and nanami were ecstatic, you strolled down the girl’s aisle looking at the arrays of pastel colors.

You picked up a few items showing them to your husband with a smile, “Kennn! What about this?” You said but you were met with no answer your husband spaced out.

“Ken you okay?” You reached for his hand gripping it lightly until he was snapped out of his trance.

“Sorry love,” he smiled, lifting your palm to his lips to plant a kiss on your knuckles, “we’re just getting closer and closer and I’m worrying more, thinking about raising our girl, the birth and my shitty ass job not letting me take off-“

“Hey, Ken it’s okay,” you hummed leaning up to place a kiss on his jaw, “Everything will work out accordingly, your job I’m not sure about though.” You giggled leaning into his palm.

“You’re right, I’m sorry for worrying you.” Nanami chuckled, reaching for the small outfit you chose, “Do we have a name yet?”

“I think we’ll know when we see her definitely!”

Eight months in and you were slowly reaching your due date, Nanami stayed home caring for you (much to the dislike of his boss). Your pregnancy had been a bit of a breeze the few months but it seemed your baby girl wanted an entrance on her way out.

“Shit- Ken I swear she’s trying to rearrange my organs,” you groaned in discomfort laying on the couch, your rounded stomach on display as you rubbed your belly gently, “Just making more space in there love.” He said jokingly squirting lotion into the palm of his hand, a small hiss leaving your lips as the cold lotion made contact with your stomach.

“I’m in painnn, everything fucking hurts.” You hummed feeling his strong hands rub the lotion around the sides of your stomach, “why’d you have to knock me upp,” you said jokingly and your husband eyed you.

“If I can recall I'm sure it was you who begged me to give you a baby.”

“Mmm.. shut up.” You flicked his arm and he smirked, “Either way, I’m sure our baby will be happy with her strong willed, handsome, and smart father.”

“And I’m sure she’ll love her beautiful, intelligent and compassionate mother as well.”

Days later your body was suspiciously calm and non-achey which you thought was weird but you paid no mind to it, you decided to call up Shoko to hang out in the city for a few hours.

“I mean are you sure you’re okay to walk? I mean you go a day without pain and you think you’re an almighty being and shit.” Shoko’s eyebrow twitched as you sat down at the table of a random restaurant

“Correction, I am, and second I can be due any day now let’s just have some fun before she possibly destroys me.” A grunt came from your lips which caused Shoko to stare at you concerningly.

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” You waved her off picking up a menu, “let’s just enjoy the day,”

“Sheesh okay mama, I guess I should get something for Satoru too he’ll be up my ass.”

“Oh please doesn’t he pawn off a mission or two to see you anyway?”

“Barely! He just hangs out with his students.” Shoko scoffed putting her menu down, “I’ll get something for-“

She was cut off by the abrupt look on your face, a small silence filling the air.

“…”

“Not to sound dramatic or anything but I think the baby is coming.” You looked down to see the entirety of the long flower skirt you were wearing was drenched.

“I’ll call Nanami!” Shoko said quickly standing up.

3:08 pm

Nanami rushed down the halls of the sterile hospital with bags in tow, he had gotten the call from Shoko saying your water broke and never did he rush as quickly as he did.

You had pre planned hospital bags packed last week for an emergency and Nanami made sure to get those before coming to the hospital, he panted to come to your room number to be met with an open door and your glowing face in a hospital gown.

“Ken! Oh you’re so sweaty!” You grinned while walking to wrap your arms around him as his hands immediately dropped the bags, “Well I rushed because a certain someone is giving birth to my daughter.”

“Wonder who that is.”

“Me too, we should both prepare ourselves.. I’m sure gojo is coming pretty soon.”

“Yeah shoko mentioned calling him, I’m surprised you two still have a good relationship.”

Kento groaned rolling his eyes, “good is a word, I can respect and tolerate him.”

10:07 PM

“Fuckkk! Why!” You bit down on your tongue, dried tears streaming down your face as you gripped onto your husband’s hand for dear life.

“You’re doing great sweetheart just a little more okay?” He whispered to you, placing a kiss on your sweat stained forehead.

After about fifteen minutes of groaning and yelling and cursing Nanami for doing this to you, a loud cry came and your baby girl was born.

“Sooo.. we have a name?” You grinned feeling Nanami’s nose press against your scalp, his large finger entrapped in the small grip of his daughter’s.

“Let’s figure that out later..”

[keen-observations-x]

Keen observation: Rengoku has an APPALLING RBF

(For reference: RBF stands for Resting Bitch Face)

(This has probably been said before but idrc I wanna rant about this sunshine looking mf)

At first I thought this was just when he was in battle against the demons on the train or when he was fighting against Akaza, but then the more I looked, the more I noticed that it really was just his resting face.

(And don’t get me wrong this isn’t me trying to say that I think Rengoku masks his emotions like Shinobu does, just that his face is not always mirroring his general demeanour. I’ve had a few people think that’s what I meant before x. As someone with a horrid resting face, I do think people just assume I’m in a bad mood when they speak with me- LIKE NO I’M JUST RELAXED I PROMISE I’M NOT MAD)

Thus to prove my points I think it’s essential I give you a compilation of his best (worst) faces:

The first time we saw him not smiling was (I think) when he fought slasher? And personally I think this was just because he was locked in and not focusing on keeping his face looking pleasant, same going for whenever he’s fighting:

(Also “I find you offensive” is such a stupid thing to say like I love you Kyo but what the hell was that 💀)

Then, we catch him in the intro giving demons (Shinjuro included) some NASTY looks - Same goes for when he’s fighting demons on the train:

And even when he’s sleeping:

All the others seem relaxed, but not Kyo - he’s pouting and looks a little ticked off, even before he literally hangs that girl from his arm

Then AGAIN when fighting Akaza! I think he lets the smile go after he dies but I physically can’t get a photos so if anyone finds it 👹TELL ME👹

Also how funny would this be, just imagine trying to get his attention and he looks at you like THIS:

[itsabouttimex2]

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

[sweet-like-saccharinee]

blood bath

sorry guys for the inactivity, these past weeks have been horrid

and ever since last monday I’ve been in a very bad mood because shit just keeps happening and I can’t catch a fucking break

[princelylove]

Hello prince!

I’ve been lurking on your blog for a bit, and I’m so excited by the way you characterize the yanderes!

Seeing your talent with noncon and writing the yanderes being horrid little jerks to their darlings, I’d like to please request: What if darling was very touch adverse due to previous sexual assault/s, not done by the yandere? I feel like you can see the vision, the angst potential.

Just squirming out of the way, shifting to sit on the opposite end of the couch, telling them firmly but as politely as possible to please not touch them. Would telling them even be smart? I’m certain some would take offense that darling technically has a body count, even if it wasn’t consensual. Narciso for example is probably not the man to tell… I’m debating if Josuke would say something to the effect of “Ew. Gross. Don’t tell me that when I’m trying to smash” or if he’d just tune it out entirely. Narancia probably wouldn’t care, until too many rejected physical affections make him stabby.

I’m not even sure if the “nicer”, more protective ones like Risotto would handle the flinching well. I am curious with how you portray him, he does seem oddly sweet in an overbearing way, but a man’s patience has limits.

Of course, there’s so much potential, so many different reactions! But our Prince is busy; If any characters in particular (mentioned here or not) jump out to you, I’d like to hear your thoughts!

Ahh. Sexual aversion. The biggest problem for obsessive, insecure types. Not all sexual abuse victims will react this way, obviously, but it's an interesting concept. The full wheel of fight or flight reactions- freezing, fighting, fleeing, fawning- they're all awful, depending on your yandere.

The only one who can fully understand someone who's been raped or sexually assaulted is someone that's been raped or sexually assaulted. Sexual abuse is a niche that only other abuse victims can understand.

Frankly, you don't know what it's like. It's hard to understand even when it's such a simple concept as "he touched me when I didn't want it" or "she kept harassing me continuously." It's simple! It's just trauma. Shit happens. But it's not.

Most yanderes do not have an ounce of understanding for basic psych- nor do they want their darling to be getting treated by some guy that can fill their head with ideas of them being an abuser of some kind just because they love a little hard. It's impossible for them to understand why you're reacting in such a way.

Never mind the fact that most of them have their own issues and are going to take even the smallest bit of rejection personally. It's not even supposed to be a big deal- you're just politely declining.

Narancia never learned that rejection isn't always personal, nor is it always, really, that deep. Sometimes, people just aren't in the mood. He doesn't even have that high of a sex drive, sometimes the sight of his darling just does something for him, and he assumes it's mutual. It's not like he's a total dog- it's just that sometimes, he'll start to move his hands a little too up or down during mandatory holding time.

Narancia enforces that daily cuddling time, whether you want it or not. If you're clearly having an anxiety attack because he's holding you down and has a knife to your throat to make sure you don't squirm out, he'll just kiss it better, because kisses make him feel better.

To Narancia, any bit of pulling away is too much. It means you want to leave him and hate him and think he's stupid. Really, all you're saying is you don't want sex, not him, but his cute little brain can't differentiate between real and perceived abandonment.

He thinks you're just doing that thing chicks do- you know, playing hard to get. You don't wanna seem like a total slut, sure, but isn't that way hotter than this whole fleeing from him like he's a predator bullshit? You gotta be mad at him. There's no way you'd just scoot away from him for no reason- you love cuddling with him! He knows you keep trying to tell him about how some guy was bad to you in the past, but he's dead, so who cares! He took care of the problem! What?

Narancia usually takes "no" as a fighting word. You can actually see his smile drop once you say it. You're leaving him. What did he do? No, you can't leave him. He loves you. He hates you. You're the worst and a total bitch for doing this to him. Wait, don't go. He'll be a better boyfriend.

One too many of these conversations means the inevitable, that pocket knife is coming out. You're fucking with him and deserve it, like you deserved whatever the hell made you into such a bitch.

He'll patch up whatever wound he made while crying later. He didn't mean it. Do you still love him?

That body count comment.... Some yanderes do care that you're not "pure" anymore.

Risotto isn't one of those types. If anything, it makes him think that you need him more. You're delicate, you're wounded. Something happened and he wasn't there just yet, wasn't aware of you...

You're like a little doe with a broken leg. What a sweet little thing. He takes extra care not to snap the legs you have left; Risotto doesn't have a high sex drive and doesn't enjoy forcing his darling to do anything. The only time he'll ever use all of that strength against you is to one, bring you home and two, force you into a hug you 'clearly' need. He doesn't even sleep in the same bed as you, he'd sooner sleep in his office chair or on the floor. In the same room, but nowhere close. If you would like, he can leave for the night. (To you.)

Physical affection helps. If you get used to him, you'll be comforted by his presence, his smell. The only thing being forced down your throat is dinner, some water during the day. Doesn't that sound good?

Risotto is fairly happy to accommodate you. He's not about to punish you for communicating with him. He spoils you, in a sense. As much as he can. Anything but taking that lock off the front door, anything but letting you out. He doesn't... understand, entirely. He doesn't know what would help someone of your... someone fighting your battles. Do you want crafts? Some company, no company? He could teach you how to sew so you're not just sitting there listening to the voices down the hall all day.

You're just proving his point by backing away from him. He sighs a little bit, he wasn't going to do anything, but it's not like you know that. Risotto's voice is always low and soft, he's talking to you like he loves you.

Which he does.

"It's only me. I was reaching for your hand. Just put your hand on top of mine for a few seconds."

Men his age know how to be patient. He'd bear anything to make his darling happy, to give them a good life. He'd work a hard labor job on a rotten foot. He'd give up his bed, his entire office. He'd stay awake all night to ease the anxiety that something is going to get you. His frustrations... they're taken out elsewhere. While it may (definitely does) stress him out that he isn't making any progress with his darling, it brings him a sense of pleasure that he isn't harming them. That's the most important thing to him. Having them, keeping them to himself, and keeping them away from harm.

Some yanderes, usually the younger and more possessive ones, do care about your "body count." Really, if you're asking the question, it's because you want a certain answer.

Contradicting myself immediately, I mean types like Wes. You're ruining his fantasy of you when you talk about shit you've done in the past, and you're pissing him off with this whole 'backing away and borderline screaming' shit. He's not gonna hurt you, he's just a little handsy. Come on.

Wes has little patience. He used to be a lot sweeter when he was younger and when he temporarily lost his memories. If you're not this sweet little schoolgirl that's gonna spend all of her firsts on him, why is he even here? Why's he so interested in sloppy seconds? His obsession unfortunately won't just go away, but it's clear he's less than thrilled over it once he figures you out. It's something that has him in a bad mood every time he remembers, but it's also... not the worst. If you're still all anxious and timid, that's cute, and therefore hot.

Maybe it's not so bad after all, as long as you pretend to be what he wants. He thinks it's fun to get a rise out of his darling- as long as you're dressed how he'd like, and looking at him like he's going to eat you just because his hand is firmly on your thigh, then he can forget about it for a little bit. It's better when you freeze, or when you're all polite about it. Nothing does it for him like a formal no, and that look of panic... you might as well still be a virgin if you're scared of a little touching.

[return-to-twisted-wonderland]

🔆anon

Canis wasn’t supposed to be up right now. He was well aware, but his body made sure no doubt would be left. He should be in bed right now because apparently if he’s in the wrong place at the wrong time, he ends up in the middle of an overblot fight.

He just had to make friends with Heartstopper and Bluey over there in Heartslabyul. He just had to listen to them complain about their dorm head. He just had to join them when they went to challenge him “for their safety”.

Does Canis regret what he did? No, not really.

Does it hurt as he bumbles his way to Ramshackle to make sure his other friend Grimstone has food? Absolutely.

He opened the door and it only took one second for the screaming cat appear in front of him, swiping at the bag he brought. “It’s been the whole day! I was starving.” Grim sniffed the air. “And what’s that smell? Smells like you brought something extra good.”

Canis pushed past Grimstone as he tried his best to close the busted door. He went to sit down on the dilapidated couch before taking out some tuna. “Relax. I had a lot happen today. And I just brought you usual stuff.” He opened the can, and was assaulted by the horrid smelling fish. “I still don’t know how you can stand this.”

Grim dumped the can of tuna in his mouth, not even swallowing before he stared talking. “Mu-uph. U gof somfing good. I shmell it.”

“I can’t understand you if you talk and eat.”

Grim gave a hard swallow to everything in his mouth. Canis was genuinely shocked he didn’t choke or something. Then again, is Grimstone even capable of that? “I said you’re lying. Cause I know you got something good. I can smell it.” Without asking for permission, he went to dig through the inside of Canis’s blazer.

“Hey! Stop that! I went through a lot, I’m not in the mood for games, Grimstone.” He pulled out the cat only to notice a black stone in Grim’s paw. Is that what he meant? That was a stone he just picked up after the fight with Red Rose. He thought it was cool and picked it up, but shoved it in his pocket without thinking when someone came over to him. There wasn’t any smell on it though.

“See! I knew you had something!”

“That’s just a rock. Does stone eat stone or something, Grimstone?”

“If it’s just a rock, why does it smell so good? It smells like a bunch of flowers and cakes and stuff.” Grim shoved the stone in his mouth. “Tasts lyk it too.”

“That’s a rock! Spit it out!” Canis tried to pry open Grimstone’s jaws but it didn’t work. The stone ended up swallowed.

“You seriously bought some good candy and wanted to keep it to yourself by calling it a rock?”

“You know what?” Canis took a deep breath. “I’ve had enough today. I’m just going to sit here in silence for a bit. You have the bag of food. It’s got some sandwiches and water and stuff left. Get whatever you want. I’m just going to close my eyes.” He closed his eyes to the sound of Grim shuffling through the bag, and the world started to fade as he drifted off to sleep.

Oh jeez

Grimmy please, stop eating the rocks.

[joviepog]

Puddle of tears

Where you and wilbur cry and sing the songs you made together after both of your horrid breakups. Finally reuniting.

(Part two of Jovie’s series, “Click”.)

—ᱬ-ᱬ-ᱬ-ᱬ-ᱬ-ᱬ-

Part 1 — Part 3

Warnings: cursing, angst, mention of depression, sad, signs mental abuse, signs of manipulation.

Pronouns: She / They

Who: Wilbur soot x reader

Word count: 2014 words!

Tag list: No one

Anything else: So, ive been having hard times irl and i think this was a great way for me to express them in a way you guys will love. I started writing this right after i made the first one because this was the part i was most excited to write. I put a couple of songs in there to give you the aesthetic but by all means you do not have to listen to them. They are just what i thought the mood was in that period of time. Though i do recommend to listen to the second song (at least the beginning) because that is the song they sing together. Like always, I’ve gotten almost no sleep s please excuse any errors.

This story was NOT proofread.

Listen to this as you read!

—ᱬ—

You sat on you bed, snuggled up in some blankets. You were reading, trying to get your mind off of anything and everything. Wilbur was sitting on the opposite side of your bed, sitting with his knees to his chest. He was scrolling through his phone. His eyes seemed wary and his eye bags only made them look worse. One of his arms were hugging his leg while the other held his phone.

You could only guess you looked worse. You haven’t slept in days. You haven’t showered in a good while and all you’ve eaten are a couple of ramen noodles that you got from the nearest store. You’ve been in your pajamas for days, only changing them every 4 days. You’ve barely been drinking any water and you’ve only brushed your teeth 4 times in the last 6 days. The only thing keeping your breath from smelling of garbage are a couple of packets of gum that you have lying around your flat. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying sessions you had the night before.

You were lucky that wilbur was even dealing with you. You felt so lucky to have your friend with you again. The fact he even drove 20 minutes away just to be with you every day is absolutely bewildering. You reunited with him the day you got broken up with. You remember it clear as day.

You had gotten a text from Josh. Someone you haven’t heard from in ages. You where in the middle of making yourself some ramen when you checked your phone. You remember feeling scared. Like he was going to yell at you for not talking to him for so long. For leaving soothouse randomly. For yelling at him the day he asked what was wrong. You where so scared. You left the text message alone for hours. Till you finally opened it up around 10 pm. Your eyes widened when you read it.

He wasn’t yelling at you, he wasn’t asking you questions, he wasn’t even talking about you. The text message was small and clear, “Wilbur got his heartbroken by some girl who used him to travel the world. I think he needs help, he’s struggling but he wont talk to any of us. He trusts you. Can you talk to him?” He was talking about wilbur. The one person you didn’t dare talk to. The one person, that you were really, really scared to talk to. You didn’t have it in you to comfort anyone. You needed to be comforted by someone…

And yet, you found yourself calling Wilbur. The first call was a let down, and yet you knew it was going to happen. You heard the phone ring and ring until it went to voicemail. You were going to give up. You really were. But something told you to try again. ‘Just one last time’

You clicked the call button once again. Expecting it to ring out. But after one ring the phone was picked up. You stayed silent, unable to speak, scared. There was a small sniffle from the other side. And you couldn’t help but sniffle back. You two sat in silence for a moment, only the sounds of soft sniffles coming through. But, when you were ready to hang up, to curse at yourself for even trying; you heard four words over the phone.

“Can I come over?” There was a silence once again. The voice was groggy, it sounded as if it was forced out. You could tell he had been crying. You wanted to cry too… “Yeah…” was all you could manage to get out. You hadn’t told anyone about the breakup. But your ex probably told everyone. Wilbur was probably one of the first people he told. He was so obsessed with wilbur, you hated him so much for it.

—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—

“YOU WERE TALKING TO WILBUR AGAIN?!? HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO?” He yelled out, pointing at the door from where you and wilbur once stood. “UGH. HE WAS PROBABLY THINKING ABOUT HOW MUCH HE WANTED YOU! CAN’T YOU TELL HOW IN LOVE HE IS? HE WANTS TO STEAL YOU AWAY. FROM ME! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT YN?” He turned toward you, his eyes flaming, “YOU KNOW WHAT? JUST TO MAKE HIM HAPPY, I’LL TELL HIM WHEN WE BREAK UP. SO HE HAS SOME SORT OF FUCKING CHANCE WITH YOU.SO THAT HE CAN FINALLY LIVE OUT HIS SHITTY FANTASY.”

This caught your attention. Tears started to form, “You- You think we are going to break up one day?” Your voice was meek, unable to bring to many words out. Tears started to flow from your face as you looked up at him from where you were seated. His gaze softened a bit, (which now that you think back on it he might have thought he had gotten caught) and worry covered his face.

“If.” He paused, “If it happens. I don’t think it will. But if it does it will be the first thing I do.” He kneeled to where you were sitting and cupped you face in his hands. With his thumb he rubbed your tears away. “See what he caused baby? He wants this to happen.” He paused as he leaned his forehead on yours, “stop talking to him baby, then none of this will ever happen again.”

You nodded, scared of what he would do if you said no. He smiled at you and pulled away from your face. He gave you a soft kiss before walking away, not looking back. Once you made sure that he left you cried. You cried so hard. Later that day he made sure you wouldn’t talk to wilbur at all. Your surprised he even let you keep his contact.

—ᱬ—ᱬ—ᱬ—

Once wilbur got there he knocked slowly. That doesn’t matter though. Because by the first knock you where already there to open the door. You opened the door quickly. It had been over a year that you hadn’t seen him. Your eyes widened when you saw him. The moment you laid eyes on him tears started to form. And by the time you took a few steps to hug him, you were already crying. Your tears soaking his sweater. He hugged you back and started to cry too. He buried his face in your hair as he did.

It was a beautiful moment. You felt so lost without him. And now that you two were together you felt complete. Like you finally gained back your missing piece. You two kept crying in each others arms. You didn’t want to let go. You wouldn’t let go. It was this beautiful, sad reunion that must have been so awkward for your neighbors.

And now, as you sat here in a comfortable silence with wilbur you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of both happiness and sadness. Wilbur was going through the same thing you were going through. He felt like someone you could really just… relax with. In these days of misery you and wilbur have made some stupid breakup songs. You both memories them by now but you stopped singing them about a week ago. You think you guys just kind of gave up. On everything. You guys barely talk on a daily. You guys just sit in a comfortable silence.

Suddenly you find yourself standing up and walking towards your cupboard, pulling out a new set of pajamas.

“What are you doing?” Asked wilbur as he looked up from his phone. “I’m going to take a shower and brush my teeth. I feel disgusting. Maybe getting myself together again will help?” I say, more of a question than a statement. He nods a yes and looks back at his phone. You sigh and walk away, cursing at yourself for even getting up. You already regretted your decision and you weren’t even to the restroom yet. You arrived to the restroom and opened the door, you walk in and lock the door behind you. You let out a sigh once again. You set your cloths aside as you turn on your shower. You quickly get your toothbrush out and you start brushing your teeth, waiting for the water to heat up. Once your done brushing your teeth and you see the mirrors start to fog up you undres and get in the shower. The hot water relaxing your body. You let out one last sigh. Letting the water calm your body for a bit more. But after a few seconds you get to work. You scrubbed your hair and your body like there was no tomorrow. And once you felt clean, you tuned off the water and grabbed the towel. You dried your body then you wrapped you hair in the towel. You stepped out of your shower and put on some lotion and cloths. You felt like a whole new person. You felt refreshed, you were surprised you even made it out of the bed.

Anyway, once you got back into the room with wilbur he had a guitar in hand. He smiled at you and you smiled back. You plopped yourself on the bed next to him. You saw as his fingers moved too were they need to go next. “Are you willing to sing a bit?” He says with a smile, it seems forced, but you nodd.

—ᱬ—

Listen to this for the next part:

—ᱬ—

“He never had cool stories. He doesn't make your heart beat.Used to love his mystery. But now he's just exhausting. Another day spent just laying in his room. The stench of incense. And some undelivered food.” You forced a smile as you heard him play. This was your song. The one that hurt you the most. Nevertheless, he continued.

“And she thought. ‘What if he thinks I'm the one?’” You sang that part with him. The memories rushing back. You felt a lump in your throat form as the two fo you continued.

“And I'll be forced to rot away, with him and his obsessions, with trivial things. Like the amount of fucking love hearts I finish a text message with.” You laughed a bit at the end, thinking about how much he cared about stupid little things. The lump I your throat grew bigger and you cursed at yourself upon how just one song could get you so emotional.

“And when you hold his hands…” Then it was your turn, “ It doesn't feel like flying.”

“And when you take his breath away…” he looked at you with a small smirk as you sang, “he might as well be dying.”

“And you're dying to breathe, You're trapped in his cage.” He paused for a moment as he looked at you, his face now covered with worry and sadness, “And its shrinking.

“And she thought, ‘What if he just never leaves?Or if he doesn't get the message?And he doesn't hear my please?‘“ You started to tear up, all the pain, and all the depression, and all the feelings came back. You felt it all. Like you were expierenceing it all over again. You looked down as you continued singing, you could already feel his nervous gaze. But once again, he proceeded.

“So she just started screaming… Why can’t he just bore me to death.” A reference to some old text with wilbur. You started to feel your pajamas becoming wet. Wilbur paused, looking at you and putting your hand on your shoulder. “YN..”

You shook your head, tears still flowing down your face. “Keep singing. It’s alright.” He sat in silence for another moment before singing another song. One of his songs. You leaned on his shoulder and you started to cry on it. You could hear his voice starting to sound choppy as well but he persisted. As you cried you found yourself drifting to sleep. His voice calming you as he went. Even if it was choppy because of his tears. You still loved it.

And soon, you found yourself asleep. Lying in a puddle of tears.

Yeah like i said before this was really nice to write. Also im working on being able to use links right so it should be up on my pinned soon.

[thin-line-between-us]

Morals

Alexis Drazen x Reader

A story in which an overworked nurse gets herself into a tricky situation by being kind

Word count: 2956

Pt. 1 of what might become a series

This is set in a world where Elizabeth did less damage to his insides than in the show

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

November nights in California were not particularly cold, but you’d never catch me outside without at least a sweater, which is exactly what I threw on over my surprisingly clean scrubs before leaving the cold, sanitary confines of my job. 24 hour shifts were not a regular occurrence, but we were understaffed for a week now and sometimes you had to take one for the team. My eyelids felt heavy and driving home felt almost unsafe in this condition. Coffee, the thought popped up as I was about to leave the break room after collecting a few stray things. Was it the best coffee in town? God no, sometimes it looked like someone had poured dirty water in the pot and called it a day. It did have its perks though; it was highly caffeinated and acted fast enough that by the time I left the elevator my mood had been slightly lifted.

“Where is he?! I swear he was here a few minutes ago, he shouldn’t even be able to walk yet” The commotion on the other end of the hallway caused me to pick up my stride towards the exit in case it was something horrid enough to keep me here even a minute longer and away from my warm shower and fresh comfortable clothes. A gust of wind hit me right in the face as I stepped outside and it was so nice to finally be away from everything and everyone. 

The parking lot was almost empty now, but it sure wasn’t when I came to work and I cursed myself for not looking to park closer. Turning the corner to where I parked my car I was met with an ass. Quite literally. First thing I see is a man in a hospital gown that had obviously been put on haphazardly as his whole backside was exposed due to someone forgetting the second tie. I looked him up and down for a few seconds before realization hit me. 

“If you’re trying to rob me or steal my car, you have very poor taste. The on-call doctor’s car was like 50 feet behind me and it’s a lot more valuable, plus he’s kind of a douche so I won’t tell” I said as I was still standing a safe distance away from the now startled man. I could see him tense and turn around so fast I spilled some coffee on myself from his sudden movement making me flinch. I knew I wasn’t in any danger the moment he grabbed his forehead and fell on his knees, the blood seeping into the front of his gown now much more visible to me under the barely there lights. At that point instinct kicked in and I lunged at him, forgetting he might still be armed “Whoa there buddy, let's get you back inside before you do something the people inside can’t fix alright?” but whilst I grabbed him to help him up he kept me firmly down by him and I had a moment of clarity that this might’ve been a bad idea.

“I’m not going back inside, I’d rather die here” was all I got as a response before he looked up. He had no anger or crazy in his eyes and I’ve seen both before, they looked like he had given up. He loosened his grip on me and sat back against my car but I no longer had the urge to run, he needed help and I knew I was going to be the said help unless I wanted him to take his last breath right here in this parking lot. “Okay we don’t have to go back in there, is there anywhere else I can take you? Preferably another hospital because you do need medical attention and the sooner the better” I tried to talk softly since he did have what seemed like a scalpel in his hand which he most likely used to attempt a break in mere moments ago. “I… don’t think so. No place that will be safe for me” shit, shit, shit was all that was running through my mind as I listened to him and knew I’ll regret my own suggestion. “Okay well I have a first aid kit here, but I’m pretty sure you ripped some stitches and if hospitals are a no… will you come home with me? That sounds bad but I promise I won’t finish you off, not a killer” I raised my hands in defense, smacking myself internally for even bringing that up and even worse, asking a stranger who already sounds like bad news into my home. 

When he attempted to get up from his position on the cold hard ground I took that as his agreement and held out my hand to assist him, which he gladly took before I realized my keys were still somewhere in my bag. “Lean back on the car for a minute, I don’t have my keys and if they are as hard to find as usual I don’t want you toppling over again in that time” he just nodded and shifted his weight backwards, not once stopping his looking around as if at any moment someone will jump out of the shadows and get him. He might not be crazy, but he sure is paranoid I thought to myself as I prepared to fight my overstuffed duffel bag. However, today luck was on my side as I opened the bag and my keys shined on top of everything. I pulled them out and unlocked the car, the stranger didn’t move, instead he held his hand out silently asking for the keys “No way, not a chance, not happening, get in the passenger seat. Last thing I need is you passing out from blood loss whilst driving, you already look like a ghost, who knows maybe you’re a hallucination” I heard what almost sounded like a chuckle from the man as i rambled on about his grim state before he shifted and slowly moved around whilst firmly holding on to the car for support. I got in and closed my door before he even got half way to his destination, briefly internally debating leaving him before pinching myself for even thinking such things. He finally got to his side and sat with a loud groan from his obvious discomfort. I started the car and pulled out of the lot going towards home before either one of you could once again think this was a bad idea. 

“Do you take wounded strangers home often? Or am I a special case? Because I don’t need pity, you decided that I shouldn’t die tonight” he finally spoke and this time I could hear an accent coming from him, his words were so quiet earlier that I hadn’t even noticed. His statement seemed very serious though  “No pity, got that. Does that mean I can stick a needle in you without any painkillers or numbing? Always wanted to try that and they don’t let you do it in hospitals” I tried lightening up the mood, but he seemed perplexed, as if he couldn’t quite tell if I was joking. His stare was intense, I could feel it send shivers up my spine but I didn’t dare to take my eyes off the road for even a second until I was safely parked by my small apartment building, it was nothing fancy but it sure was peaceful with only a few people living around me and most of those being elders. They’d be asleep or getting ready to by this time, so the chances of running into them with a bloody and slightly intimidating man were slim to none. 

“Alright, we’re here but I do have to warn you, I’m up on the second floor and there’s no elevator, think you can manage? I can always bring everything down and stitch you up in the trunk but that’s a little too trying to help roadkill for my taste” dark humor was not helping right now and I could see that from his scrunched face at the thought. He didn’t waste time opening his door but getting out was a different story. At that point leaving my work bag seemed like a no-brainer since I’d have to act as a human crutch for someone towering over me by at least half a foot. I popped the keys in my pocket and jogged over to his side before he could struggle too much, potentially doing more damage. No hesitation or questions were heard from the guy as he took my outstretched hand and leaned on my shoulders once on his feet. The trip upstairs was not as bad as I had first imagined it and once we were inside I chose to waste no time.

The moment he was stable on a chair in the kitchen I ran to gather supplies, everything I could possibly need as I still didn’t know the extent of his injury, he ran away from a hospital, how bad could it possibly be? Once I had everything laid out on the table from simple bandages to a suture kit, I froze. He had started slowly pulling his arm out of his gown, “Name!” I blurted out louder than I had intended and he once again had that look of confusion written all over his face, ‘Your name, can I at least know your name before you get naked in my kitchen?” I explained myself, looking at his face for more than a millisecond since meeting him. He was a very attractive man even if he was visibly a few shades paler, and I was right to avoid his gaze in the car, his blue eyes made it look like he was looking right into my soul. “Alexis” was his very short and simple answer before he continued shedding his gown painfully slow until he saw that it was stuck to his bloody torso. Alexis tugged at it once before realizing that was a mistake as he scowled and threw a few foreign words out at the sensation.

“See what would you do without me now?” I rolled my eyes as he leaned back letting me take care of the problem. All he needed was something wet and sterile to remove the gown with much less pain than his initial approach. I sprayed the bloody patch and waited for it to soak in, going in once more to make sure it was really detached before gently peeling it from the wound and skin around it. That gave me a quick moment to take in the fact that he was very well built, as I placed the fabric on his lap trying to keep him decent although he didn’t seem concerned at all. “I think I might need you to lay down, seems they repaired whatever internal damage you had and it stayed but you ripped a few stitches on the outside and I don’t want it to heal all crooked” I explained examining the wound “Get comfy on the table and I’ll be right back” I picked up all the unnecessary supplies to free up space for him to lay down before walking to my bathroom to put it all away. 

The last thing I expected was the first thing I saw walking into the room which elicited a very loud high pitched squeal from me. Even the unbothered Alexis was startled and snapped his head in my direction. Whilst I worried about keeping him covered minutes ago, he had hopped up on the table not bothering with the flimsy piece of material over his lap. “Not cool dude!” I walked around him trying to shield myself from the view as best as I could and still see where I’m going. I snatched the blanket from the back of the couch and threw it in his general direction. “You missed.” Oh great I thought to myself before turning to see where it had landed, but it was already draped over his lap. You wouldn’t have complained about him naked in any other situation because frankly it was a nice view but this was not the time for silly shenanigans. 

“I thought I was clear on the lay down part and why” I crossed my arms looking at him with whatever seriousness I could pull together at the moment. He complied and I finally approached him pulling on clean gloves and opening the suture kit “This will hurt Mr. Tough guy” I cleaned the area one more time before putting the needle through his skin. Almost instantly his arm was at my side squeezing gently but his face remained unfazed as he stared at the ceiling refusing to acknowledge what was happening to his torso. Second plunge into the skin and it was my turn to wince as his grip got painful, but the moment any sound left my lips he released it. A gentle sorry was all that was heard as he continued staring at what seemed to be the most interesting ceiling in the world. “Who got you this good? Seems like you pissed someone off” I let a smile slip as I thought about some of the ridiculous stories previous patients have told about their own stab wounds. Sometimes even I couldn’t believe the stuff that came out of peoples mouths. “A woman. Shouldn’t anger them, they can be ruthless” now he was looking at me and smiling even as I put in the last stitch and tied it off. “Ah so an angry girlfriend, better not tell her where you are or she might actually kill you this time” I cut the thread and opened up a bandage, sticking it right over the long line of stitches to protect them from any dirt. “Wait right here, do not move an inch” I was already on my way to the bedroom as I warned him with a very non threatening finger point. The box in the back of my closet was dusty but I was sure it would finally pay off keeping this stuff, he seemed about the right size. A pair of boxers, a t-shirt and sweatpants were easy enough to find and in no time I was back with Alexis in the kitchen, handing him the clothing “They don’t seem your style exactly but you can’t really complain either, it’s that or the blanket” as soon as the clothing was in his hands I turned around hoping he’ll get the hint to put it on. “And here I thought you liked me lying naked on a table” he joked around which made things at least that much less awkward, but soon enough I could hear the shuffling and a few grunts here and there as he strained to put on the garments.

Not even a minute passed before I felt a tap on my shoulder probably meaning I could turn around and not be met with Alexis in his birthday suit. Everything fit him almost perfectly except for the shirt clinging to his broad shoulders with the threat of tearing at any sudden movement, he was much broader than Brad but he was also taller so the shirt sat just right above his waistband. “You like what you see?” snapped me right out of my ogling and back to reality. “No” came out harsher than I intended but he was still a stranger even if he was a little mesmerizing. “You have a place to go? Pretty sure girlfriend is out of the question” I crossed my arms again trying to avoid his soul crushing stare. “Not my girlfriend, I said a woman, not my woman” he leaned back lightly on the counter not moving to leave and completely ignoring the actual question. “I have some spare sheets, couch is fine to sleep on but you will feel like your back snapped in half by the morning, my bedroom is off limits and the bathroom is right there” I pointed to the door to the right of my bedroom before quickly scurrying to pull out a pillow and some sheets for him. I didn’t feel like asking again fearing he might feel unwelcome even if he has nowhere else to go. 

This time the surprise in my living room was less shocking and more endearing, Alexis was already asleep curled up on the couch draped in the same blanket he had used to cover up earlier. I placed the bedding on an armchair next to the couch and went about my own nighttime routine as usual, picking some clothes from my bedroom this time for myself and jumping in the shower to wash off all the grime from the previous 24 hours. The water felt amazing until it got cold and that was my que to step out. Whilst brushing my teeth and finishing up I kept thinking about the man sleeping on my couch, he seemed strange but I didn’t feel fear as I usually would having a stranger in my home. I guess figuring him out will have to wait until tomorrow because all I could think about was getting some sleep myself. I stepped out to check on Alexis one more time to find him now stretched out, legs draped over the side of the small couch and soft snores coming from him. Nothing to scare me away from stroking a hand through his slightly messy hair, only when he leaned into my touch did I flinch away not expecting it and slinked back into my bedroom, closing the door behind me. The moment my head hit the pillow everything started going dark and I was off to dreamland.

[somethinglikethatyeah83]

TWO DOCTORS: Tenth Doctor

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x OC, Platonic!Donna x OC,

Warnings: Daleks, Davros, lots of unwarranted jealousy from both Rose and Vera. I left out the sad Donna bit at the end because its already so long and that bit is too sad for me to write (yet)

Summary: The last episode of Season 4, Journeys End rewrite but with Vera and a very jealous Rose

Word Count: 3.5K

Somehow, there were two Doctors. I’d missed the explanation for it, if there had been one at all. I wouldn’t have been surprised if there hadn’t been one. The situation seemed way too tense to stop and explain something that didn’t seem too important. I hope I wasn’t the only one that didn’t have a clue of what was going on. 

I hadn’t been in the universe. I hadn’t been in this time, and I had no clue how I had been brought here, but one second I was on a different planet, talking to someone about some random topic, just learning and exploring like I always did, and the next I was on the floor of a ship. 

Both Doctors were standing over at the side of the room. It was murky and horrid wherever we were. I didn’t know much. But I knew that the Daleks were back. They survived. Somehow they survived, and that was the main thing.

Everyone on Gallifrey had heard of Davros, even before the Time War began, and now, he stood above me, snarling down at me.

“Last of the Timelords, huh, Doctor?” Davros teases, looking up and over to him. 

The Doctor steps forward, as far as he could in his bubble, snarling over to Davros. “Don’t you touch her Davros, don’t you dare.”

The girl standing next to him had her eyebrows furrowed. I didn’t recognise her, and the Doctor had introduced me to every companion he’d met. She turned to the Doctor and spoke. “Doctor, who is she?”

“Ah. Yes.” He spoke, hesitant. “Vera, this is Rose Tyler, a… friend. Rose, this is Vera Rubato, my wife.”

Rose’s eyes went wide, turning to the Doctor with a facial expression that I could decipher as only disgust or jealousy. Maybe he had had a thing with her before he met me. I wasn’t fussed, but it was a little confusing. Why hadn’t I met her? Why hadn’t he even mentioned her before?

Either way, I was his wife. She wasn’t.

Davros spoke again, drawing our attention away from each other. “Stand up, Miss Rubato.”

I did what he told me to, since I wasn’t in the mood to regenerate, but as soon as I did, a barrier zoomed around me, similar to what both Doctor’s were held in, locking us in. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on, please?”

“God, shut up, there are more important things.” 

The Doctor, my Doctor, holds a hand out, as if he was stopping Rose from pushing her way out of the invisible prison and starting a fist fight with me. “Rose, not right now.”

I watched as she crossed her arms over her chest and grumbled. There was a slight smile on my face, which he definitely noticed. 

Davros drove forward, facing the Doctor, a wicked grin on his wrinkled face. “Two girls. Two Doctors. What do I do with this?”

And then, just as I was about to butt in and ruin Davros’ monologue, the Tardis doors swing open. Finally, someone I knew, someone I could trust storms out.

“I’ve got you Doctor! Don’t worry!” And Donna Noble reaches down and picks up the gun on the floor. I hadn’t even noticed it was there, too busy with the rest of the surroundings. Chances were, it was the most important thing here, and could save everything. Or at least save what was at risk. I still hadn’t gotten an explanation. 

But she wasn’t fast enough. 

Davros spun and zapped Donna, throwing her to the side of the room, behind machinery that looked important. There was nothing anyone could do. Both the Doctor and I would have been running towards her, and I could hear him shouting beside me, but she wasn’t getting up. She was out cold. 

Not even Timelords can survive Daleks, let alone humans. I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to think about that at all. We had no choice but to continue. The Doctor was angrier than he was before, which I didn’t think possible. I could hear him shout at Davros, words and insults I wanted to say but didn’t have the energy. 

“That’s it!” Davros cried, a gleeful grin with such a wicked undertone painted on his face, looking at the Doctor with a horrid awe. “Show your companions who you really are. The wrath of the timelord!” 

“Doctor.” Rose’s murmur was quiet. I wasn’t even talking.

“Watch, faithful companions, as the man you thought was honourable and honest, and kind to everyone he meets, watch as he becomes the very thing he swears not to be. A killer. A murderer. The murderer of the timelords. This is who he really is and as much as he can try to hide it, this is who he is, and who he will always be.” Davros monologues, snarling at the Doctor whose facial expression was worse than anger, worse than hatred or loathing. 

I knew what this did to him. I knew how these words affected him and how much remorse he felt for what he had done in the past. I knew he regretted what he did to Gallifrey, and so did Davros, but this time, he was using it against the Doctor. An action that made my heart burn with a similar anger. 

“Doctor, don’t listen to him.” I whispered across, hoping he could hear me over all the noise in his mind. All the voices that were yelling insecurities at him. But it was like he couldn’t hear me. Like all the noise was too much or that he was so angry at Davros - rightfully so - that he wasn’t in tune with the world, blinded by the white hot anger that Davros had plagued him with.

No longer was I concentrating on Donna, or the other Doctor, or the fact that Rose somehow thought she had a right to my Doctor over me. Or even Martha, and the few other people, Jack, and more I didn’t recognise. All I wanted to do was help him. Break out of this god-forsaken prison and help him. 

But maybe he was the only one that could save us; because Donna was alive.

I could see her from the corner of my eye, stepping up from behind the large machine, using the metal to pull her up. The frown left my sight at my friend, who I could tell had changed. Something was different: I didn’t know what, but something had changed, and that something might just be the thing we needed to save her. The frown left my lips, replaced by a smirk that I failed to hold back. Davros noticed, though.

“What?” He asked, driving away from the attention of the Doctor and back in front of me, as close as he could get with me trapped in the prison.

I smiled, shrugging and crossing my arms across my chest, spotting the Doctor’s frown from my peripheral vision. “Nothing.”

It was evident I’d struck a nerve by not explaining my sudden change in expression, but then again, that was the point. I watched as Davros drove away from us. I had also made the Doctor, both Doctor’s, mad for provoking Davros, but I had a plan.

It wasn’t a very good plan at the moment, but it was something.

“Enough!” Davros shouted, driving further and sitting in front of an unnamed Dalek that didn’t even have a shell anymore. I didn’t want to think about how he had gotten into that state. “The plan will come into place, there is nothing stopping them and now that I have you all captured, I have no need for you to all be alive.”

“You brought us all here just to kill us?” Rose shouts.

“Kill them!” Davros orders, ignoring Rose and pointing in our direction.

The grin on my lips only grew asI settled on my left hip and arms crossed as the rest of the panicked. As the Daleks were about to drive over to us to kill us, I looked over at Donna who smiled and winked at me. 

“Dalek control? Hacked.” She grinned, flicking a switch in the machine. 

Immediately, the Daleks started spinning around in circles, unable to control themselves and where they went. Everyone, including both Doctor’s, started laughing at the sight.

Donna flicks yet another switch. “Prison barriers down!”

And the blue barriers surrounding us fall, letting us out. Donna lets out a shout as we start running towards her. 

“Donna!” The Doctor shouts, still grinning and laughing. “But you can’t even change a plug?”

“That was a two-way metacrisis; half human, half Timelord!” She grins, and even I can spot that little bit of the Doctor in her, especially as her eyes frantically move and dart about in a way that is so the Doctor. “But I got the best part of him. I got his mind.”

I smirked, looking over to my Doctor. “Best part? You sure?”

The Doctor’s face dropped, enjoying the comment but not wanting to show it, a half smirk on his lips and that subtly flirtatious look in his eyes that I hoped no one else could see. 

Rose butted in between us, pushing me away from him. “Anyway… We’ve still got things to do. We’ve got 27 in the wrong place and the wrong time, we have to get them home.”

Donna clicked her fingers at Rose. “Yes! Come on then you skinny boys in suits, we’ve got planets to relocate!”

Both Doctor’s leaped around to the machine, immediately laughing and flicking switches all in time with each other. I watch them all, not noticing what anyone else behind me is doing, but rather focusing on the Doctor. My Doctor. Who was Rose? How did she know the Doctor and why was she so insistent on keeping us apart? I didn’t have time to talk to him about it, not now. I’d find out after this was all over, and I’d have a good talk to him about it. If Rose ever let us be alone again.

I turned to the monitors on the machine, watching as they showed each planet leaving and getting home in time with the switches being flicked. I watched as, without command, all the people I didn’t know, that were probably connected to Rose, started pushing Dalek’s into each other. They were all exploding as they did so. It was all so chaotic, but so long as everyone here and everyone on the 27 planets were safe, then it didn’t matter.

As all the Daleks were slowly being destroyed, I leaped towards the Tardis, opening it with the key I had latched around my neck and standing at the door. “Come on everyone! Get inside the Tardis!”

“Only a few more planets, Vera!” My Doctor shouts, smiling over to me from the machine, adoration in his eyes. “Go on everyone, follow Vera and get in the Tardis.”

People slowly piled in, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen this many people inside the Tardis at one moment before. Martha, Jack, Rose, someone called Mickey and Jackie. Even Sarah Jane, who my Doctor had told me about before. Soon enough, the Doctor spinted over to me, he entered the Tardis, resting his hand on my upper arm and looking down at me with a love I saw from no one else.

“You alright?”

I nodded, grinning. “Yeah, all good. Let’s get everyone home.”

He squeezed my arm one more time before running up to the console. “Vera, get Donna and… the other one. We need both of them in here before we can leave.”

I nodded, looking out the door, ready to call them both, but seeing Donna already stalking towards the Tardis. The other Doctor was still standing at the machine, staring intently at the monitor. Suddenly there was a low rumble and the whole ship shook, a loud explosion erupting from the floor and setting new rubble on fire, only creating more chaos. 

“What did you do!” I shouted over to him, looking up at him as ran over to the ship, stepping inside the Tardis and looking down at me. 

“I saved us.” He had such an innocent look on his face, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You committed genocide!”

“Against the Daleks, Vera.” He negotiated, completely believing his own words as if they weren’t defending behaviour that my Doctor would never dare to think about doing, not again. “Against the species that ruined our planet and took our people, our families and homes away!”

“They were still living.” I scolded, watching as his face fell. “And now, what makes you any better than them? Go on, get inside.”

He walked into the main room of the Tardis where everyone else stands at the console. I close the Tardis doors and follow him, looking up at my Doctor, catching eyes with him, looking confused but sympathetic. He then turned to everyone else.

“Right! One more planet to go, and I’m going to need everybodies help.”

I stepped out of the Tardis onto a beach. Donna stepped out behind me, but after the metacrisis she probably knew where this was and why it was important. I didn’t.

My Doctor and the other Doctor stood on the sand, Rose too, turning around as she realised where they were. Of course it had something to do with her. I watched as they spoke, unable to hear them. I knew it was probably for the best but my curiosity got the better of me. I stalked forward a little, edging further from the Tardis and closer to these three people. 

“He committed genocide. He’s too dangerous.” My Doctor spoke, standing tall in front of Rose, a melancholy look on his face. “He has to stay here.”

“And I do as well?” Rose asked, a look on her face that didn’t belong there. That shouldn’t have been there. 

“Yes. You have no place back home, and you have a life, here, now.” He explained. “We have no life together anymore, but he can.”

The other Doctor turned to Rose, taking her hand. “I’m part human, specifically the ageing part. I’ll grow old and eventually die. I could spend it with you, if you want.” 

“You’ll grow old with me?” Rose was conflicted, I could see it in her face. She turned to the other Doctor. He nods. She had that look in her eyes that I saw in the Doctor when he first met me. That confusion, but also love. She was in love with the Doctor. “I just have one question.” She turns to my Doctor, who still stands between me and Rose. “Who is she?”

And I make eye contact with her. She doesn’t know I can hear.

“Who is who?” The Doctor replies.

“Vera. Who is she?”

The Doctor shrugs, but I can’t see his expression so I can’t tell what he’s thinking. “She’s just Vera.”

Just Vera. We’re married but okay.

“Who is she to you?”

There was a small moment of silence before he spoke again. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking or what was going through his mind, and whatever he said now could either make my life or shatter me more than losing Gallifrey did. 

“She’s the love of my life.”

“You did exactly what you said you wouldn’t do.” Rose cries, her own heart broken by what he had answered with, whereas my hearts were flying. “You replaced me. You said you never would-”

He shook his head. “She’s a Timelord, Rose. The one thing I have left of my planet.”

“I crossed parallel universes for you, Doctor.” 

“She’s Timelord. I can have a real life with her, I can grow old and die with her. I can’t do that with you.” My doctor tells her, looking over to the other Doctor who steps forward and takes Rose’s hand in his. 

Donna lifts her chin next to me. “Doctor, we haven’t got long.”

The Doctor nods and turns back around to Rose. “The gap is closing up again. I won’t ever see you again, Rose. I’m sorry.”

Rose stayed silent. As much as I didn’t like it, there was no denying her and the Doctor had a history, and I could almost feel how he was feeling. Her staying silent must have killed him inside. Even more was left unsaid as I watched the Doctor turn around, starting to walk away from Rose and towards me. 

I could see the other Doctor holding onto her hand tightly, and I could just about see a tear fall from where I stood. My doctor reached me, and I looked up at him, finding his eyes and finally being able to decipher how he felt. 

“Get inside the Tardis, I just want to talk to her.”

“We don’t have much time.”

“I won’t be long.” I promise, reaching a hand up and cupping his jaw. “Don’t leave without me.”

He nods and walks away off to the Tardis, Donna following shortly behind him. I make my way over to Rose, stalking across the sand that I can also feel in my shoes. Her eyebrows furrow at the sight of me, but I just smile slightly. I have no reason to hate her and there is no way I blame her at all for being in love with the Doctor. 

“Hi.” I greet, sending her a small smile.

“Hi.”

“I want you to know this isn’t your or his fault. If it’s anyone’s fault then it’s mine because I found him again, but that’s not the point.” I start to laugh at myself slightly, watching as Rose tries to figure out my point. “I don’t have long, but I genuinely believe that if he could, he would spend his life with you, but he can’t. And if he could, then he would eventually have to lose you again, which I don’t think he could handle.”

Rose looks over to the Tardis doors, now closed. “He’s losing me now, he might as well lose me later.”

“He likes to get things over and done with.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because he’s my husband.” I shrug, looking her in the eye, though she refuses to meet mine. “And I know him, more than you ever could.”

“You-”

But I interrupted, knowing that she would end up shouting at me, which we didn’t have time for. “Listen, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Only two Timelords can have the connection that the Doctor and I have. It’s not that he wouldn’t have that connection with you, it’s that he physically can’t. Just treasure the Doctor that you have, because he’s the best one for you.”

“I have my Doctor, and you have yours.” Rose speaks, finally looking up. 

“Yeah.” I smile. “Listen, I’ve gotta go, but I hope you have a good life with your Doctor.”

Rose nods, reaching out a hand. “And you have a good life with yours.” And with that, I take her hand, shaking it. I wasn’t going to hug her, and part of me still felt like she hated me, but a handshake would do. At least she wouldn’t be angry at my Doctor anymore, that was my goal.

I turned, and made my way to the Tardis, leaving Rose and the other Doctor behind. It was murky in the Tardis as I closed the door behind me, but even more melancholy from the Doctor, my Doctor. I couldn’t see him straight away, but as I got further into the Tardis console room, I saw him on the far side of the console, hands pressed against the cold metal. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all he said.

“For what?” I asked, making my way to him and hopping onto the console, leaning into him.

He only shrugged. “I should have told you about her.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I told him, resting my head on his shoulder and waiting for a reply. After he doesn’t say anything, I lifted my head and pulled his chin up to look at me. “Want to talk?”

He shook his head. I didn’t know how else to help, so I shuffled my way in front of him and where he stood and pulled him into a hug. He probably didn’t know how much he needed it but he figured it out when he got the hug, because he had a tight grip around my waist and his head buried into my neck. 

Donna walked back into the main room to see the heartfelt hug, and nodded knowingly. I pulled a thankful face as she left again, leaving the Doctor and I alone once more. 

We still had Donna to deal with, because she physically wasn’t possible. More of an anomaly than the Doctor could ever be, and she would be able to handle it. But that could wait. We still had a few hours until it really kicked in. Until then, I had to make sure the Doctor was alright.

[asparklethatisblue]

30 isn't even close to 'mid-life' put that crisis back where it came from or so help me

(/lh, but seriously: everyone has their own fears about aging and I don't know what yours are but I can tell you a couple things that helped me when I was freaking out about the same thing: 1) Most people don't know who they are until long after their 20s, and the longer you live the more 'you' you discover. Going by that logic, you've barely scratched the surface. 2) My mom once told me that she's grateful for every birthday she gets because some of the ppl she loved will never get another one, and she has to enjoy it for them too. And finally, if all else fails: 3) The people profiting off your fear of aging are literally the worst people in existence. Loving yourself no matter what age you are or how you look normalizes that value and in turn makes them lose money. That's two wins: you feel better and rich people lose money. Sorry for the rambling in your inbox, hope any part of this might have been helpful and that you have an amazing birthday when it comes.)

thanks Anon. It’s not “aging” I fear, but the years I’ve already spent doing nothing to chase my dreams (i don’t know how, if someone pointed the way…) and the fact that I seem to be getting worse at making friends, or at least making friends I can see when I want to. Birthdays in general are hard for me cause I always expect… something. And then end up having a horrid mood crash and depression cause I’m hit with how my parents spent most of my life not caring for me as a person with a personality. And that my grandpa doesn’t remember or recognise me. And that my life is fine objectively, and it’s just my inability to process certain chemicals in my god damn brain that makes me ungrateful and unable to appreciate the positives and focus absurdly hard on the negatives. And that I have nothing to complain about cause I’m lucky to have what I have

so itms more like… “Birthday” is something I get excited for and then end up having as an explosion of every negative emotion and fear I had bottled up in the past year. i’m fine with being 30, I’m not fine with depression and also not being able to convince doctors to give me medication I have been prescribed before and still need just cause of bureaucracy

[jazzy-art-time]

I didn’t post about it on my mod blog because I didn’t want to dampen the spirits that everyone else was having but I’ll mention things.. briefly here before the year ends.

If you just follow me for art then you prolly wont know what I’m sayin!! Carry on soldier. I will post more art again soon, it’s just time for me to post a long text post that prolly 90% of the people here wont know wtf I’m on about!!

Putting under the cut to avoid long post/put that negative crap under wraps

This year was horrid for me. In many ways but.

The entire thing with the stalker/doxxer went.. a lot deeper than people realize it was. That’s due to me just not mentioning what happened directly but It wasn’t just hate and harassment and doxxing it was..

Abhorrent. I’ll spare the nitty gritty details, to be Frank idk what good it would do to mention it all.

But even so, I was not the best person this year due to this.

I became irrational and paranoid. I left places suddenly without a word (or was being told to and did so out of fear). I stopped talking to a lot of people and became more of a concept than a person to many. Got snappy and bitter a lot of the time as well. Just overall became afraid of everyone and didn’t trust anyone at all and it made me someone I didn’t want to be.

Regardless of the situation I was going through, I shouldn’t have acted in a lot of ways I did. I can play the “I was being abused so wehh it’s ok how I acted” card all I want but the reality is.. it wasn’t really cool of me. I’m a grown adult, I’ll own up to that.

And I know I caused a lot of people worry by my sudden disappearances or mood changes. I was too focused on trying to protect myself and those I cared about that I became a bit?? Of a prick. And honestly I feel like I caused more damaged trying to “protect” other people from the situation. Irony is a cruel mistress.

I let someone else get too much control over me and my actions and let them use my own mental illness against me and make me somewhat nasty.

But it wasn’t right of me, no matter the circumstance.

But it’s all over now! All over now… for now anyways. But I still have to look at the mess left in the wake of everything and try to reassemble what I can.

So, if you were someone who was effected by my irrational and erratic behavior.. I do apologize. Idk what real “good” me saying that does.. but I don’t want to just not say anything at all.

I’m not saying all this as a like NYEHEHE IVE APOLOGIZED AND NOW I EXPECT EVERYTHING TO RETURN TO NORMAL that’s not what’s happening trust me lol. This is just my own guilt welling up a bit and me chucking it out into the world for the time being

I’ve been drafting and deleting a post like this all week because I didn’t want to go into a new year just brushing everything aside. But kept wondering what good it would even do or who would even give a shit.

But. Here is this post! It exists, for now! Who knows I may wake up tomorrow and go WTF NO and delete outta paranoia. Idk!

All in all…

I’m going to spend 2024 trying to rebuild myself. I haven’t been.. myself in nearly 2 years due to everything (and IRL circumstances as well that I won’t get into).

I have a better support now. So that helps me and has been helping me get better again. Not just in recovery and help with legal things but like. Just emotionally keeping me in check lmao

So I hope in 2024, things will be better. If not for me, then for others at the very least.

I know this post was long and negative and repetitive, but if I spend too long revising it I’ll just delete it again.

Idk if anyone will actually read this but??? Shrugs. Oh well. If anything I’m being selfish and just posting this for my own personal “”closure”” if you will

Happy new years, see you all around.

[timemachineyeah]

I know Biden recommended cannabis be recategorized from a Schedule 1 drug to something more reasonable but has any action been taken by the DEA or FDA to act on that? I don’t think he can tell them what to do, only make recommendations.

I know this is old news but I’m just having a new bout of being frustrated by our historical and historical and ongoing racism etc. We should have so much more research available at this point than we do. It’s absurd how little we actually know about different cannabinoids and side effects and impacts. My own reasons are personal and selfish but that doesn’t change that it’s an important issue. personal ranting follows

I am, probably as a byproduct of scrupulosity instilled by a frightening religious upbringing, somewhat paranoid about things like cannabinoid hyperemesis syndrome. I basically expect the worst possible consequences to hit me immediately from any even mildly hedonistic or enjoyable activity. If something is good for me or I like it but other people fearmonger about it, some part of me always suspects they’re right. Going to hell for being bi, will get pregnant and die if I fuck ever, etc. And I combat this by trying to be informed of real risks and remind myself of data. It is not great at dealing with my underlying issues, but it helps with immediate anxiety at least.

Anyway I threw up before work this morning. It was not a long or violent thing. I took a bite of my breakfast, felt a deep pit of horridness, vomited what was basically just tea into my hand. It delayed my workday because I had to take a shower and wash my splashed upon hair.

I hadn’t had weed in a few days. I had noticed my doses were getting higher and had stopped on my own to save money and do a tolerance break and general health reset. I know this is hard for a lot of people, but while I would be sad if I could never have weed again, I don’t think it would be terribly difficult for me. I’ve quit for long periods before. I could again. I have an addictive personality in many ways, but quitting things like dairy or gluten (things I’ve done in the past for similar “let’s see how I feel!” reasons - chronic illness compels you to try shit) and those are way more difficult than weed.

There are mobile games and websites I’ve found more addictive and detrimental to my health than weed (and that’s without spending money!).

It helps with my pain, with my anxiety, and with my mood. It can help with sleep for me, though I gotta get the dosage right.

But I talked about a different gastrointestinal weirdness a while back - where for a few weeks I often felt an immediate need to vomit (or sometimes have violent diarrhea) upon being hit by the hot water in the shower. Not every time, but often enough to spot a pattern. This was a year or two ago I think? I could find the post but I’m lazy and won’t. But it was irregular enough that I was never able to figure out whether temperature really mattered or anything else for certain before it stopped happening.

and I remember all the websearches at the time bringing back CHS, and being like “this sounds like it describes a higher amount of weed than I am using, and also that hot water relieves the nausea, not causes it, so I don’t think that’s right??”

and it’s probably not. I didn’t always have an iron constitution prior to becoming disabled, and I was already disabled for years for years prior to starting weed. Probably I should do a FODMAP diet or something (I have the workbooks - it’s just a lot of work to go on such a restrictive diet - it’s the kind of thing that takes planning. I was working on it and then got in my car accident and then had a major health crash and just did not have it in me to do more than white knuckle through my job for months while I recovered my energy and ANYWAY), but the point is - I almost certainly don’t have CHS as described. That is not the deal.

But what IF my edible use is doing something? I mean - it could be! We don’t know what mechanism causes CHS. We just know that cannabis is notoriously really good for nausea, except in some rare (but more frequent as cannabis becomes more available) high use cases where it instead causes severe uncontrollable vomiting. It clearly likes to play with your digestion! And we also know that with CHS, for some reason temperature plays a role. Hot baths and showers (and, anecdotally, capsaicin creams) reduce or eliminate the nausea. Seemingly, the hotter the better. It’s the weirdest telltale sign.

And it’s just bonkers to me that we don’t know more about it. That’s all. It’s 2024 and we should know more about the components of weed, what they do, how to separate them out to make various products with more specific effects. And it’s not that no one is working on it, people are. But right now what consumers are left with is that usually the biggest experts are also the businesses growing and manufacturing and selling weed, who have a clear conflict of interest when it comes to how they communicate the impacts of their products, and also aren’t going to motivated to do the same kind of research that someone like a gastroenterologist would.

But that research is so much harder to do because it’s a fucking Schedule 1 drug for no good reason.

I’m just mad I’m not in a better timeline where better science has already been done. And all of this from my anxiety about vomiting this morning.

[katchleeifyoucan]

Hiiiiiiii

Taking the golden opportunity to say while anons are off that I love your blog and thank you so much for being such an amazing presence in the community ❤️❤️

On a side and completely unrelated note, I’ve been in a horrid Lee mood all day and I would thoroughly love if you teased and tickled the crap out of me because I would love it if you were a mean kat today 😍🙈

aww thank you so much!! thanks for being here!

a horrid lee mood huh? well i’m sorry to hear that. unfortunately there is that pesky matter of distance that prevents me from lering for you. but perhaps imagining my hands all over your most sensitive spots will help make that mood better. or worse 😘

[littleperilstories]

The Prince of Thieves: My Heart Breaks For You

Mood Boards | Chapter Titles | Also on A03!

Warnings: Fantasy-esque prison, mention of death, mention of flogging/whipping/public humiliation, grief, angst, deceiving a loved one

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Word count: 2139 || Approx reading time: 9 mins

My Heart Breaks For You

Teaser: He must be alarmed, panicking even, as I stand trembling before him, wondering if I can keep my composure enough to tell him what I witnessed at the prison with even a mite of dignity. Breathe. I need to breathe. My shuddering breath, it seems, is the only thing over which I have control right now. Everything else is slipping out of my grasp. Will: gone, and now hurt. Runners: arrested and even dying. Jamie: cracking apart day by day.

Colette

I stumble away from the prison walls. Numbness engulfs my entire body, and not just because of the wind that blows brittle, rust-coloured leaves from the trees and bites into my skin with sharp, icy teeth.

I should have known coming here was a bad idea. A foolhardy idea, and dangerous to boot. But what choice did I have? By this morning, the marketplace was already buzzing with the news: yet again, a wicked thief had targeted one of the finest families in town, and the constables had carted away yet another burglar in chains under the cloak of midnight. It didn’t take me long to learn that it was the Smiths who summoned the constabulary in the night, or to surmise that it was yet another of our runners who’d been arrested—this time, a girl I’d hand-picked for the job.

That girl, that runner—what name did I give her? Robin?—now facing conviction or, if recent events are a portent of what’s coming, execution.

Frustration fueled each wary step as I cut through the crowd toward the jailhouse, leaving Geoff to his own information-gathering under the guise of shopping. I only went snooping near the prison to look for new signage, to see if the constables planned to hang the girl, too. I didn’t expect to see anything happening within the prison-yard’s walls.

A restless crowd—babbling excitedly and gathering near the gates—drew me closer despite my apprehension, more than just macabre curiosity pulling me into the throng.

Not daring to ask anyone what was going on, I snaked through the crowd to get as close to the wrought-iron fence as my courage—and good sense—permitted. Titters, mocking laughter, and jeering calls swelled around me at the grim scene being performed at the jail yard’s whipping post.

“See what happens when you think you’re too good to follow the law?”

“Make sure it hurts!”

“Make ’im bleed!”

Now, I close my eyes against the memory, wishing I could forget every moment of the sick pantomime that played out there.

Exactly what prompted the second act of the constables’ horrid performance, I’m still unsure of—something involving Will’s temper and caustic tongue, I’m sure of it—but I’ll never be able to unsee the stripes that awful man painted across his back. Or the way his limp body hit the ground when they were done with him.

“Spider?”

I don’t know where Geoff came from, or how I’ve made it back to the marketplace, or how many times he had to say my name before I heard it.

“What is it?”

He must be alarmed, panicking even, as I stand trembling before him, wondering if I can keep my composure enough to tell him what I witnessed at the prison with even a mite of dignity. Breathe. I need to breathe. My shuddering breath, it seems, is the only thing over which I have control right now. Everything else is slipping out of my grasp. Will: gone, and now hurt. Runners: arrested and even dying. Jamie: cracking apart day by day.

“Spider? You sick?”

“No. Yes. No.” I force back the tears that are battling viciously to escape, determined to be the victor. “How am I going to tell him?”

Geoff stiffens. “Who? What?”

Although I want nothing more than to spill the whole wretched story, I wait. “We should keep moving.” Standing still offers too many opportunities for nosy people to overhear…the last thing we need right now.

He walks stiffly with his hands at his sides, a crude mockery of the soldiers and constables who hunt us every day. His face is unreadable to anyone else who might try to discern any emotion in his gaze, but I know him well enough to see the tension lurking there. Swallowing a fresh batch of tears—get back, you fuckers—I suck in a deep breath. Geoff is a good listener, and except for perhaps Will, he knows Jamie better than anyone. He’ll have some idea of what to do.

I launch into the story—how I snuck into the crowd just in time to see Will being disciplined in front of everyone, how that evil constable picked some girl and made her count each strike, how Will fucked himself over even more by mouthing off—even though I couldn’t fully hear what he said, it was quite clear what was happening—and subsequently getting flogged with the cat-o’-nine-tails.

Geoff is silent as he listens, his eyes fixed upon the road in front of us. As my words die out, I watch his hands curl into fists, the only hint he’s heard a single thing I’ve said. And that he’s fucking pissed about it.

“Bastards,” he growls. “Every single one of them.”

Icy rain is falling now, sharp jabs of freezing fucking water pricking into my face and hands. I adjust the hood of my cloak, pulling it farther over my face as I watch the drops splatter against the ground. The smell of rain is usually so comforting, but here in the thick of the city, all I can smell is wet wool and misery. “I have to tell him, right?”

Only the raindrops answer at first as Geoff considers. “He’ll…want to know Fox is still alive.”

Turning my face away, I wipe my eyes. “It might kill him.”

“It won’t.”

“But it might.”

“But it won’t.” Geoff tilts his head toward the sky, apparently unbothered by the frigid water pelting him in the face. “Don’t go into detail.”

“I can’t lie,” I whisper. “Not to him.” Another thought strikes me. “And…that crowd… So many were there, watching. Enjoying it. People—they’ll talk. He might hear about it anyway.”

With a shake of his head, he says, “You don’t have to lie. Tell him you saw Fox, and if he asks for more, tell him he was shooting off his mouth and he got whipped and leave it at that.” Geoff forces out each word through gritted teeth, and even though I know he isn’t directing his anger at me, I flinch anyway.

Perhaps he notices, for when he speaks again, his voice holds a touch more gentleness, his ire reined in. “It’ll fuck with him no matter what you say, Spider. Don’t put those pictures in his head, too.”

Perhaps he’s right.

Thankfully, thankfully, Jamie is where we left him—at the table, now littered with coins he’s organized into neat stacks. He sits dividing those meagre funds, all we have left, into care packages. The clink of coins mingles with the patter of rain against the roof and window, another sound that typically brings me solace but today makes me want to cover my ears and scream. When he speaks, he doesn’t look up from his counting. “What news?”

The question, which should be so very simple, pierces me like a blade. “Well, hello to you, too, Alpha.” Desperate. Forced. That’s how I sound. Can he tell I’m trying too hard to seem normal? Jamie glances at me for a moment, his suspicion piqued, but he continues his task.

“Constabulary caught another runner,” I say. Already, my heart is trembling. I fear that if I speak too carelessly and say the wrong thing, I may fall into a chasm whose bottom I cannot see—and that Jamie will tumble down with me. “The girl at the Smith house.”

That freezes him mid-count. “Another one.” It isn’t a question; rather, it is a dull repetition. Flat and emotionless.

In response, I nod, though he isn’t really looking at me. Shadows, born fluid and slippery from the guttering fire, dance on the walls and across his face. “I… I told her. To get out. The day of the execution, I passed a message and told her to scarper.” When I look down, I see the dirt caught beneath my fingernails, the stains on my skin from gripping a rusty wrought-iron bar too tightly. “I told her to be careful. I guess it wasn’t enough.”

Geoff murmurs a response from where he’s grinding tea leaves with the mortar and pestle, and I remember only then that I didn’t tell either of them I slipped a note to the runner that day. “That was stupid, Spider. And reckless.”

“I know.” At the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. Now, I’m not so sure. What if she rushed because I frightened her into running off too hastily? If the constables hang her too, will her death weigh on my conscience?

Jamie swallows. Thinks. Stares. What he says, when he opens his mouth, meeting my gaze at long last, makes my eyes burn. “We should go, shouldn’t we? It’s time. Really time.”

We’ve discussed it before: Leaving our little home here in the city, the place we scraped up funds for and have worked so goddamn hard to keep. We all knew, from the moment we learned that man was to be hanged, that this day would come, yet none of us could bear to take the leap.

Jamie’s declaration stings. But he’s looking at me like he needs me to answer, needs to know he’s making the right call. “Yes. It is.” I train my gaze on the bookshelf. Most of those volumes are stolen, and most of them by me, but they are treasured nonetheless. Deserting them is going to hurt as much as leaving behind the memories we made here.

“Call off every job,” Jamie says. “Break communication with every runner. No more drops. Every runner for themselves.” One look at our limited stack of care packages has him squeezing his eyes shut, as if he can hide that his eyes are filling with tears. “It’s too dangerous now. For us. For all of them.”

Geoff abandons his tea-making and stands behind Jamie, laying his hands on his shoulders. Our gentle giant, always there when the alpha wolf needs him.

“We’ll deliver what’s left,” he says gently. “We’ll get them out tomorrow. Then we’ll go.”

Jamie can’t see it, but I can, when Geoff meets my eyes and ever so slightly shakes his head. No, he is saying. I was wrong. His gaze is wide, almost frightened. It is not a look I have seen him wear often. Not now. Not tonight.

Perhaps Jamie can sense something, though, because he looks up at me. His hazel eyes, darker than Will’s but similar enough to identify them as brothers if you know what to look for, are grieving—but still suspicious. “Any other news?”

Again, Geoff shakes his head.

I can’t lie. Not to him, I said earlier. In my mind, the conversation I know I must have with Jamie flows easily; my voice is calm and collected, soothing and comforting. I went… I went by the prison. To look for signs, to see if they’ll hang her too. That’s how I would start. Jamie would nod, patiently waiting, and I would go on, I didn’t see any signs, so…not yet, anyway.

No hanging? he would ask, and I’d shake my head. Relief would burst across his features for the briefest moment, and then he’d bring his mask of emotionlessness right back. He would look into my face, though, deep and thoughtful as ever, and he would see the truth seeping through. He would sense it enough to ask the right question. You didn’t see any signs. What did you see there, Spider?

Perhaps Geoff and I are cowards.

“I didn’t see any signs for a hanging.” This is the test, then—if Jamie Wardrew can really read my face the way I’m terrified he can. “Guess she’s not up for execution.” Yet.

Jamie waits.

“That’s all,” I say, heading for the mortar and pestle. “Hare, if you’re going to make tea, at least finish the job.” The scrape of cast-iron rustles the air as I hang the kettle over the fire.

“Sorry, Spider.”

The lie festers under my skin. How could we—How could I do this to him?

Forgive me, Jamie. It is ludicrous that Geoff is apologizing to me over a contrived conflict over tea leaves, when the person who deserves the apology is sitting at our table with his world falling apart more than he even realizes. Forgive me, Will. He wouldn’t like us to deceive his brother. But he wouldn’t want to see Jamie heartbroken, either.

Forgive me, both of you. I glance over at Geoff, but he’s not looking at me anymore—too tangled up in embracing Jamie, leaving me to stand alone by the rain-splattered window, mired in guilt. To gasp for breath and scrabble for freedom, because the threads of our merciful lie are coiled around my neck like strangling vines.

No, not like vines.

Like a noose.

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Tagging: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams, @gala1981, @kixngiggles .

[Banner ID: A narrow horizontal, rectangular banner featuring a barred archway. The bars and the stone walls evoke the feeling of a dungeon or prison. There are burning candles on either side of the archway. The title of the story, The Prince of Thieves, appears in white text in the centre of the image. The author's username, abbreviated to LPS from littleperilstories, appears in the bottom right corner in partially transparent text. End ID.]