#but really only tried to change the course of events when clara's life was in danger

[tardxsblues]

Doctor Who || 9.04 Before the Flood

[hyodyton]

Hello there! May I perhaps bother you for some pipbert headcanons or thoughts? I’ve been thinking fondly on them all morning & so I had to come to you, since you love them as well! 💖

AHAH HARD. But.

1. I like to think about the fact that they always try to go out in public together. Whether it's half price theatre, or gentlemen's clubs.

Like the one that Startop and Drummle belonged to, or even like the pickwickists at Pickwick's. All sorts of balls, soirees.

During these events they are always whispering about what is going on, Pip may allow himself liberties in speech, but Herbert only chuckles and never corrects in conversations just for them.

If they have had a drink, they share impressions or gossip even more vigorously, half hugging and laughing as they walk down the evening streets.

Pip often complains about Drummle, and Herbert jokingly echoes him.

They are comfortable with each other, and as long as it is not public, many liberties are allowed.

2. Herbert has genuinely taken a liking to Joe, despite the fact that thanks to Pip, the meeting was rather awkward. He periodically asks how he's doing, and Pip is embarrassed to admit he doesn't know, so he often makes things up. Certainly not as vividly as with the dogs and the carriage at Miss Havisham's, but periodically he comes close to screwing up obscenely. When Pip started writing regularly to Joe and Biddy, Herbert has probably guessed the situation by now, but will never tell him. He's just very happy for him.

He's always interested in hearing about Pip's life in the middle of nowhere, about his school, his home, his surroundings. About how he learnt to be a blacksmith. (he especially loves his hands, so he has little understanding of Pip's complexes about it and admires every scar and roughness)

3. To the topic above, he is very fond of complimenting Pip, not all the time of course, but always very sincere and affectionate. Even if it doesn't always match reality. He really loves, sees and feels Pip is a much better person than Pip really is.

When, in addition to the scars from the forge, burns appeared on Pip's hands, Herbert became even more tender, even though it's impossible to be gentler ( (c) Pip).

4. In Cairo, Herbert, even after years of living in a hot country, continues to lose his battles with the sun. Pip is always on hand to help in any way he can, he has a flask of water, bargained at the local market for a nice price. Pip is very proud of it.

Pip loves to bargain at the markets when he and Herbert go there for work or pleasure. Whether it's a beautiful rug, a brightly coloured dressing gown or a flask of pumpkin.

Clara is certainly better at finances than the two of them combined, and Herbert takes more of a charisma at work . I like to think it has to do with what Clara's father was like.

Pip still struggles with his lust for consumption while Herbert can happily live with little but those he loves.

He is very happy that Pip is still with him, that they still live together and work together.

Pip is eternally grateful to him for everything, although he rarely tells him so, but tries to speak more often.

5. When Pip lived with Joe and Biddy for a few months, he visited the Pockets, among other things, to make sure nothing had changed. Herbert was glad of this when Pip returned with all sorts of news. Pip mentally noted that Herbert was looking more and more like Matthew, but Herbert still had all his hair in place and didn't look so battered by life. But his smile is still the same and the first wrinkles have appeared on his face. He would like to keep picking up on that, for years to come.

[aliensunflower-fics]

How to Exploit Kindness [A New Kind of Lila Salt Prompt]

[ Ive seen Lila and Class salt that goes a lot of different ways. In some Lilas a sad lonely girl who will do anything for friends and the class fall for her lies through a mixture of manipulation and Lila’s genuine sad lonely but real persona. In others Lila is insane and the class get basically sucked into her cult. And in others still, Lila slowly breaks the class down by preying on there insecurities, hidden jealousies ect. There are the versions where Lila just bribes the class with connections and the versions where Lila frames Marinette until no one believes her. But I wanted to write a new idea for people to use, one that I feel is a bit more realistic. One where Marinette’s classmates are more their more authentic kind selves but still get slowly pulled into Lila’s web and where Lila is just a bit more intelligent. ]

[ As usual with all my prompts feel free to borrow the idea to write for your own thing salt, sugar, cuteness angst ect just be sure to credit me for the idea so I can read it. ]

Lila was furious! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! She was supposed to be everyone's friend! She was supposed to finally get a cute perfect boyfriend who would cherish her like she deserved! She was supposed to be HAPPY! But no, the pathetic beetle Ladybug and that goody two shoes Marinette kept ruining everything!

No… No that wasn’t quite true. As much as she wanted to blame her problems on those two it wasn’t entirely their faults. Honestly Lila wasn’t quite sure what had happened. Her lies had been working at first, they had gotten her praise and compliments and adoration and friendship! But now? Now they were all ignoring her, unimpressed by her celeb lies! She could not understand it! At first she’d been sure it was Marinette or Ladybug maybe even Adrien had turned on her! But when she’d probed for information she’d learned that none of them had blown the whistle. So what was it! Tomorrow… Tomorrow she will find out one way or another. She needed to get them back under her thumb somehow.

 It was Chloe who gave Lila her answers. Chloe was the reason none of her classmates cared about her stories! Chloe was the idiot mayor's brat. And what a brat she was constantly wiggling her way into her mothers fashion shoots or had celebrities over at the hotel. Of course Lila’s classmates didn’t care about Lila’s celebrity connections because Chloe was always name dropping just as many people as herself. The only difference was Lila used fake modesty and shyness that made her ‘friends’ view her lies in less of a gloating light than Chloe’s haughty claims of celebrity meetings.

It was a damn shame, celebrity lies were her bread and butter, they were exciting got people to think you were important and they were hard to prove or disprove allowing Lila to easily get around the messy little detail of ‘proof’ if someone asked for pictures all she could say was that her mom didn't let her take any because she didn't want her precious daughter being targeted by crazy fans. And if someone asked her to use her celebrity connections? Well she could just turn on the water works and cry about them just being her friend for her connections. Thus her prey would be forced to be her ‘friend’ , always listening to her and doing things for her, unable to ask for anything in return. Then when her mother announced their next move Lila would tearfully say goodbye and leave all her suckers behind. But without the sway of her celebrity lies her system broke down. That was the problem with picking the school full of rich talented idiots she supposed.

Well with Chloe ruining her system she’d need a new one. Scrolling through her classmates' social media for a clue she sneered at their overly cheerful and cutesy posts. Always encouraging one another and posting encouraging puff pieces about this or that. Always acting like they were so nice. As Lila scrolled over a charity fundraiser event that Alya had retweeted from Milene a sudden thought crossed her mind. Her classmates were very ‘nice’ and annoyingly so. They were always butting into each other's business, always being SO concerned, always organizing events to help each other and appreciate each other and going to charity events.

In fact now that she thought about it the stories that had intrigued her ‘friends’ always had some sort of charity garbage attached. Saving Jagged’s kitten or raising money for some cause or other that always got her heaps of praise. Sure saying Clara whatshername stole her dance moves got attention but not in the same way saying she raised money for some green project. Was it really that simple? Sure her classmates all loved Marinette for her extreme generosity and kindness but was it REALLY that simple? She needed to check.

 It was actually that easy. One simple little lie about how she pulled a blind old man out of danger when he was nearly run over and suddenly the class was bathing her in praise. And the ‘fact’ that the whole very real thing made her miss first period and sprain her ankle? Well that was just the cherry on top. Suddenly Max was offering her a copy of his notes and everyone was back to caring for her like she was a princess. The fact that Marinette looked like she was seething only for sweet naive Adrien to keep her mouth shut was just so perfect. She’d found her golden ticket. Her classmates were truly ‘good kind people’ and nothing could be exploited quite like kindness.

With this knowledge Lila would easily be able to destroy Marinette, sure she wouldn’t be able to do it quickly but slowly she would replace her, with every good deed she made up with every act of false modesty she would build a reputation greater than Marinette’s she would replace her and become there new ‘everyday ladybug’ and the best part was she wouldn’t have to say ANYTHING against Marinette. Not. A. Thing. No sweet righteous Marinette would eventually snap, sadly for her it would probably be too late with how much control Adrien had over her, so when it happened Marinette would look like the jealous crazy girl going after the girl that was kinder, sweeter, and better than herself. As for Adrien… Well she had a hard time believing it at first but he really was an idiot with a pretty face as long as she was careful as she built her new reputation he would genuinely believe that she was changing for the better and then he'd fall for her.

The best part was, her classmates were genuine. As she built her new good girl heart of gold persona they would genuinely come to love her, all the loyalty Marinette got to enjoy all the perks of being friends with such talented, kind, sweet people would become hers. Slowly no matter how Marinette struggled she would lose, eventually she’d have nothing left. Of course she’d need to be careful with her lies but that was easy. Bring the class to a charity here and there and tell them that she was the one who gave the idea for the charity to the actual organizer but didn't want any credit because she was just that kind and humble. If they tried to make her do actual work then she’d have a sudden accident that would require she sit down.

And then once she’d done more photoshoots with Adrien for Gabriel she’d ‘convince’ the man that a charity would make him look good and boost sales. She’d MAKE her lies true all while winning over her future father in law, and heck maybe she’d even pocket a little of the money, she could use a better wardrobe and the extra would be perfect to buy her ‘friends’ the occasional ice cream or presents. In between that she’d just lie about saving people or volunteering on weekends. Maybe even let it ‘slip’ how she was a temp hero for Ladybug . One of the sweetest parts was that between volunteering with Lila, there own activities and hanging out with Lila so she could ‘thank them for their hard work’ no one would be spending a second hanging out with sweet pink little Marinette, they'd abandon her without even realizing it because they’d be SO busy. Sadly this plan of hers would take a little more work then her others, but it would be worth it to become the queen bee of the class- NO the school! And when Marinette eventually slipped up and looked like the biggest jealous bully in the school. Well she’d have no choice but to leave the school with her tail in between her legs.

Victory was looking sweet and satisfying.

 [ And where it goes from here is up to you. Lila can win, she can slowly convince the class and school that she's a model citizen and an everyday hero. She can sneakily maneuver the class to not spend time with Marinette slowly separating the girl from her friends. In this way Alya and the rest of them don't become evil salty versions of themselves who overnight hate Marinette and love Lila, but rather they are good naive people who got slowly separated and tricked by someone who wants to use their genuine talents and skills to make herself look better. Adrien who is already shown to be naive and wants to believe the best in people, can fall into Lila’s trap and become genuinely convinced that his high road method really worked and ‘reformed’ Lila into a better person. OR Lila can fail, she can claim to be the wrong temporary hero for ladybug, or she can pick the wrong charity to lie about, or get exposed any number of ways and the class can realize with horror that because they are kind but flawed people who are perhaps too trusting and gullible that they got pulled away from Marinette through subtle manipulation and so they can be redeemed because instead of turning into outright bullies they stayed the same kind people they always were but just got genuinely tricked which is something that can actually happen in real life. You can go heavy salt where Marinette does eventually leave the school or class heartbroken that her kind friends have fallen prey to a bad person Marinette cant find a way to expose. Or you can go clever salt where Marinette figures out Lila’s plan and fights her from the inside slowly exposing the cracks in her facade. Or you can go sugar and redemption where maybe just maybe Lila actually LIKES being nice to people and having real friends who dont care about her fake celeb connections, maybe she honestly redeems herself and even makes amends with Marinette. You can do genuinely anything with this idea and I hope to see this generate some new less *and suddenly everyone is evil* content for those that like salt and angst. ]

[melancholydreadfuldream]

find my way back to you

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Reader & 12th Doctor x Reader

Summary: A visit from the Twelfth Doctor turned your life upside down.

Warning: ooc, angst, plot holes, etc

    You giggled at something the Eleventh Doctor said. He beamed at you adorably.

  "So, this is me." You said as they arrived on the front porch of where you lived. You smiled at him. "Thank you, Doctor, I have fun today."

  He smiled. "T-that's great. I, there is still so much I can show you." He said.

  You smiled and kissed one of his cheek. "See you next Tuesday, Doctor." You whispered and then with a giggle, you turned and hopped inside. You turned again and waved him goodbye.

  The Doctor is touching the cheek where you kissed him. He has this adorable look on his face. He waved back at you before he too burst into a giggle and left.

  7777

  You entered the house and covered your mouth to stop the burst of squealing out of you. You can't wait to call Clara and tell her all about it. You moved to turn the lamp near the door and screamed when you saw a figure seated comfortably on one of your sofa.

 You quickly tried to pull open the door to run and maybe called out the Doctor but to your horror, you realized the door somehow locked by itself. In your panic, you didn't noticed the figure had pulled out a sonic screwdriver which is the reason why you are trapped with him.

  You screamed for the Doctor as you tried to get the door to open but it was futile.

  "Don't bother screaming. I have put a soundproof barrier within the house." He said.

  Resigned to your fate that you're trapped, you turned around to face him. "W-who are you? What do you want with me?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He gestured on the sonic screwdriver on his hand. 

  You blinked at him. You observed him. The man is a bit old but still handsome in his own way. He was dressed in black with a hoodie. You turned my gaze at the sonic screwdriver on his hand. "D-Doctor?" Clara told you about regeneration. She only knew because she jumped into his timeline and saw his many past incarnations' faces. You can hardly believe it but here he was.

  "I'm sure Clara has told you all about regeneration, correct? And I'm sure, if I remember correctly, my past self has also told you some about it."

  You nodded mutely. 

  "Good, then you can relax now, I'm not going to harm you." He said. 

  "When?"

  "Pardon?"

  "When will he regenerate into you?" You asked. "What happened?"

  He stared at you with a look that you can't decipher. "Spoiler."

  You sighed at his word. "Why are you here?"

  "I need your help."

  "Me?"

  "Yes, the future of the universe depends on it."

  You stared at him in disbelief. "Are you sure you need my help, not Clara?"

  He rolled his eyes at you. "Right, I forgot that this you are still filled with insecurities."

  You glared at him.

  "This does involve Clara. But, you are the only one who can fix this." He said.

  "How do you mean?"

  "Next Tuesday, he...me...your doctor is going to come and ask you out for a date. You will reject him and break his hearts."

  You are stunned. "W-what? Why would I do that?"

  He didn't reply for a second. He gave you a look that tell you he's trying to be patient.

  Your mouth dropped open when you realized what he meant. "You're kidding me. The future of the universe depend on me breaking your...his hearts?"

  He didn't say anything, just shrugged.

  "Why?" You asked.

  "Does it matter?"

  "Yes, because you're asking me to hurt him...and I never would do that to him, to you!" You demanded.

  His eyes softened at what you said. "I didn't take this decision lightly, you know. But I have calculate everything within my timeline and this point in time is where the changes must be made."

  "I don't understand."

  "Of course you don't."

  "Doctor! Stop being vague and tell me!" You demanded.

  "So bossy. Clara taught you well." His expression is torn between annoyance and fondness.

  "Doctor, just tell me. You...you are crossing your own timestream and it is all to make sure that we would never get together? Do you hate me that much?"

  "I don't hate you, (name), in fact it was the opposite." He said with a solemn look. "But this is what needed to happen now. Your future-self agreed to it."

  "My what?"

  He rolled his eyes at you. "Keep up with me, (name), I know you can do it."

  "But..." You are confused and you hated it. "No."

  "No?"

  "No. I won't do it. I don't care my future self agreed to whatever this is. I'm not going to break his hearts. Because that would meant I have to break my own too. Why would I do that? And don't tell me the future of the universe depend on it. I need more reason than that!"

  "That wasn't enough?" He asked almost mockingly.

  "Stop that! You are trying to hurt me. You are trying to make me hate you. Why would you do that?"

  He sighed. "It wasn't my intention." He walked toward you. His hand moved to reach your hair but he only hovers over it. "You're making this really hard, (name)."

  "Well, if you are asking me to sacrifice my feeling for you then I deserve a thorough explanation as to why that is." You pleaded.

  He shook his head. "Your future self did warn me you will be difficult about this."

  "Well, you should have listen to her." You said petulantly.

  He chuckled. "I am." He sighed and he put his hands over your face. "Let me show you." He told you to close your eyes and you did. He put his forehead over yours and a series of images beamed directly inside your mind.

  You gasped as you felt overwhelmed with the images, no, memories and the emotion that came along with it. You blacked out.

  7777

  You sat in front of the huge windows in your room. Tears falling on your cheeks. You understand now...somewhat. You didn't want to but now that you know, it would be selfish of you to pursue a relationship with the Doctor with what's at stake. But what you still have a hard time of accepting is the fact the Doctor has to have a romantic relationship with Clara.

  You and Clara are best friend since childhood. You and her almost always share the same love interest time and time again. Of course you know Clara also fancy the Doctor. Who wouldn't? But the thing is your love interest always choose Clara over you time and time again...until the Doctor. You can hardly believe it when the Doctor choose you over Clara despite her being his impossible girl. You and Clara had agreed to remain friend regardless who the Doctor choose. And so far, Clara has been very supportive of the two of you.

  And now, the future Doctor is telling you to give up on the Doctor and make it so his past-self divert his feeling toward Clara. How is that fair? Why does it have to be her? You know, of course you know, Clara is the Doctor's best match, more than you. It still hurts though.

  The Doctor need Clara to be by his side. But she won't be if you are the one the Doctor choose. She still traveled with the Doctor apparently but she won't make the right choice when the time come, not without her strong feeling for the Doctor. And that was when everything spiraled out of control which led the future Doctor and your future self agreed to change their past for the sake of the world. You wanted to call bullshit on that but you know you won't.

  The future Doctor were also there in your room but he made no move to console you, choosing to give you some space to sort your cluttering thoughts.

  "So, what do we do now?" You finally asked with a hoarse voice as you turned to him still with glassy eyes.

  The Doctor took a breathe of relief which made you blinked, realizing that he must have worried for you and how you will cope with it.

  You forced yourself to smile weakly at him.

  He started explaining what you will have to do to break his past-self hearts and ensure he won't try to pursue you.

  "Are you saying I should make him hate me and stop travelling with him?"

  "Hate is too much a strong word. You just have to make yourself less desirable to him." He said. 

  "By purposely making a mistake that will make him think less of me?"

  He didn't reply. "I know this is hard."

  "Do you?"

  "You think this is easy for me? I love you, (name)." He said. "In the future where I came from, we are married. We are happy but we agreed to save Clara. She was our best friend."

  You hitched a breath at his confession. You also felt ashamed because he is right, Clara is your best friend. Doing this will also save her from her fate. Why are you hesitating? Are you really this selfish? You took a deep breathe. "What do I have to do?"

  7777

  The next few days are hard for you. The future Doctor made a lot of plan in order to ensure the break up is permanent. He has blackboard where he wrote his plan and explained it over and over to you until you can't get it wrong.

  On Tuesday, the Doctor come for you and you turned him down quite cruelly, telling him you don't have time for him right now. He looked like a kicked puppy. And then you and the future Doctor made plan to make sure Clara will stay with the Doctor and have adventure together.

  The future Doctor took you to go wherever the Doctor and Clara goes with his vortex manipulator to plot a series of events making sure that it will drive them closer and intimate.

  You hated every second of it as you watched the manipulated scene unfold just as the future Doctor predicted. He is quite the match-maker. You could see it, the undeniable attraction between the Doctor and Clara.

  But to her credit, Clara refused to fall into temptation knowing full well that the Doctor is currently interested in you.

  Then, come the part that you hated. The future Doctor instructed you to travel with the Doctor and Clara to a planet where he has designed a fake conflict. That will be the place where you will make your Doctor see your 'true color'. You will have to act still in character to avoid suspicion and that you are not under duress. The future Doctor did indeed know you well. The mistake you are supposed to make is actually something that you can see committed based on your own flaw.

  And the Doctor is disappointed in you so much he dropped you home immediately. Clara can only stared at you with pity but she made no move to defend you.

  You got inside your home and broke down crying. The future Doctor stared at you with a look of pain. You rushed into his arms without thinking and hugged him tight. He hugged you back, rubbing your back to console you.

  7777

  "Were you really happy with the other me?" You asked suddenly as you both sat cuddled together on the floor.

  "I am. We are." He replied.

  "You said we are married."

  "We are. We got a ring and everything. Clara is my best man."

  "You mean she is my maid of honor, don't you?"

  "No, she is my best man."

  "She is a woman."

  "So?"

  You chuckled. "I wish I could see it."

  "You can...if you want. I can share you my memory of that day."

  You eagerly accepted his offering.

  He hesitated. "I don't think this is a good idea. Why torture yourself with things that will never happen now?"

  You sniffed. "Just call it my payment or whatever. Please. I need to see it, our would-be future together."

  He sighed. "As you wish." He said as he pulled you closer to him.

  You closed your eyes, preparing to see a lifetime worth of memories of your would-be future with the Doctor.

  "I become immortal?" You asked in shock.

  "Yes, you were dying and I had to save you. I wasn't prepared to lose you. And the Mire technology is there to be taken advantage of so I did."

  "We could have forever."

  He didn't respond. Eventually, he said, "Now you can have a normal life, meeting a man that can properly love you, have a bunch of kid and grow old together."

  "I never wanted that. I only ever want you." You said, clutching his face in your hands.

  He sighed. "Don't, (name), you will only make yourself suffer more."

  "And you...?"

  He shrugged. "I will vanish, cease to exist."

  "And you are fine with that?"

  He didn't reply.

  We are interrupted by the sound of wheezing Tardis which made you panic.

  "What do we do?" You asked him as they both stand up, staring from the living room window the sight of the Eleventh Doctor and Clara walking toward your house. He was mumbling to himself while Clara pushes him toward your house. "Doctor, what do we do?" You asked again.

  The Twelfth Doctor glanced at you with a look you can't decipher and then he suddenly pulled you close to him. He kissed you hard and you instinctively responded to the passionate kiss as if your life depend on it.

  He broke the kiss and you both turned to see the look of brokenhearted look on the other Doctor's face. Without a word, he turned and went back on the Tardis. Clara stared at you with disapproval before she, too, turned to chase after the Doctor.

  So, this is it. Tears started to fall from your cheeks. It finally is done. You lost the both of them.

  7777

  It was midnight. 

  You both are waiting.

  "It worked." The future Doctor suddenly said.

  Your heart almost jumped into your throat, choking you good. You glanced at him.

  "My memory is changing..." He said almost in awe before he turned to you with a sad look. "I'm sorry, (name)."

  "Doctor..." You whispered brokenly. You stood up and reached out toward him, nearly falling as you did so.

  He caught you in his arms.

  "No." You whispered. "Don't go. Please don't leave me."

  He looked sad. He kissed your forehead. "Hang in there, (name) (last name), you will be fine. In fact, I know you will be amazing. Even without the Doctor."

  You clutched his arms, unwilling to let him go.

  He remained in your arms until he vanished without a trace, leaving you on your own.

  You cried even wailing as you cry your heart out.

  7777

  The Doctor never come back for you.

  Clara did come to you and demanded explanation about the old man she saw kissed you that night.

  You told her you had come to your sense and realized that you and the Doctor are not compatible. "He's an alien. It will never work for us."

  "That man you are with is too old for you. Where did you even met him?" Clara asked.

  You snorted. "The Doctor is a thousand more older than him."

  Eventually, Clara admitted to start having relationship with the Doctor and asked you how you feel about that.

  You forced an ignorant smile and told her to go for it.

  She look disappointed in you and she left.

  She only contacted you via phone or chat after that. You never saw the Doctor again.

  7777

  Years passed by, you think. You have your up and down in coping against the loss of the Doctor and Clara but you make do. The memory of the would-be future of you and the Doctor still lives inside you, comforting you on the most loneliest night. You tried to move on from the Doctor a few times, dating someone but it never worked out.

  One day though Clara appeared in your front porch, angry at you.

  "The Doctor has regenerated." She said. "Guess who he regenerated into?" She glared at you angrily.

  You flinched.

  "He has the face of that old man you kissed that night years ago!!" She yelled. "Explain that to me, (name)! That man, he was the Doctor, wasn't he? What was he doing there?"

  You weren't prepared for this confrontation at all. "Did he realize it?" You asked instead.

  Clara stiffened and shook her head. "I think he blocked that night out of his mind. I don't think he gets a good look on that man that night. But I did." She turned to you furiously. "What was going on that night? Tell me! The truth!" She demanded.

  You sighed as you sat down. You told her everything.

  Clara shook her head in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "He said not to. For this to worked out, you must never know. He said you would be unwilling otherwise."

  "He would be right." Clara said. She turned to you. "The Doctor and I broke up."

  You stared at her in shock. "What?! Why?"

  "He is the one who break it up. He said he's too old for me."

  "And you didn't fight for him?"

  "You didn't either!"

  "I had no choice!"

  "Well, now you do. You can have him back."

  "Clara Oswald, I can't believe you would say that to me."

  "Well, he is yours in the first place."

  "But he choose you."

  "No, he was manipulated to choose me. By you! And by the other Doctor!" Clara said angrily. "He never love me. Not as much as he loves you."

  You flinched. "That is not true." You said firmly. "I don't know what happened between you and the Doctor but he loves you. I know he does."

  "Well, how do you know that? You haven't met us for so long! You didn't know what was it like!"

  "Were you happy with him?"

  She didn't reply for a second before she nodded.

  "Then, what's went wrong?"

  "He regenerated and he's changed. He doesn't want me anymore." She said. "And frankly, after what I know now, I don't know what to feel."

  "Just give him time, Clara. You did say he just regenerated. Maybe he still need to sort thing out in his mind." You consoled her. "He did choose you. And he never once come for me. That should be enough for you to hold on to."

  "How can you be okay with this?"

  "I wasn't okay at first. But it's been years, Clara, I moved on."

  Clara stared at you. "I'm so sorry. I should have known. I should have been there for you."

  "The Doctor needs you more."

  She sighed. "I have to come back to sort thing out with him."

  "Okay."

  "You are lying, aren't you?"

  "W-what?"

  "You still have feeling for him."

  "Your arrival just make me nostalgic, that's all." You lied.

  She hummed. "I'm gonna tell him the truth."

  Your eyes widened. "You can't!"

  "Why not?"

  "What was the point?" You asked. "You are just going to make him feel guilty. Why would you do that to him? You know how he is. Don't add this burden on him." You pleaded.

  Clara eventually agreed to keep it a secret.

  7777

  You can't believe this is happening. You were kidnapped on your way to work. They blindfolded you and pushed you into a room and forced you to sit in a chair as they tied you up.

  Someone is yapping sarcastically at your kidnapper. You frowned as you felt like you recognized the voice. Your blindfold is lifted and your eyes widened as you saw the Twelfth Doctor sitting in front of you, also tied up.

  He look as surprised as you. He didn't seem to recognize you at first. "Why is she here?"

  "According to our record..." The robotic voice of your kidnapper sounded above you making you flinched. "...(name) (last name) is your companion."

  The Doctor snorted. "You need to updated your record. She is no longer my companion. I disown her."

  You flinched at the disdain in his voice.

  "If you are trying to make me comply with you using her, you have taken the wrong person." He said nonchalantly.

  You felt like crying but you bite your lips to stop yourself. "He's right. I didn't even know who he is." You said.

  "He is the Doctor." Your kidnapper said.

  You stared at the Doctor.

  He shrugged, thinking you didn't believe that he is the Doctor. "I regenerated."

  Your kidnapper designed a twisted game where the both of you have to tell the truth or risk electrocution. He called the Doctor bluff about not caring for you.

  The Doctor, not wanting to hurt you, answered as best and as flat as he can be. He was good at telling lies. You know this. But you are not. So, when asked whether you have feeling for him, you tried to lie but that caused the Doctor a pain of electrocution.

  "Okay, you won. I still have feeling for the Doctor, okay?!" You screamed. You turned to the Doctor with tears in your eyes. "You. It is always you. I never stop loving you."

  The Doctor's mouth dropped open as he glanced at you with confusion and disbelief. "But you are with another man. I saw him that night."

  "You stupid Doctor. Remember that night! See him! Really see him!" You shouted.

  He frowned. He was silent for a long while. His eyes widened as he finally pieced it together. "W-what? That man...that was me? B-but..."

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't want to hurt you. But I have no choice. You told me to, future you." You said, finally letting the worm out of the can and once you do, you can't stop revealing everything.

  He look like he wanted to throw up. He desperately trying to comprehend what you are telling him.

  7777

  Once you and the Doctor are able to get out of the hostage situation, he grabbed you aside, demanding explanation.

  "And you believe him?" He asked in anger.

  "He showed me what happened!" You yelled, defending your action.

  He frowned. He stalked toward you, grabbing you harshly. "Show me." He demanded.

  You stared at him before slowly nodded your consent.

  He closed his eyes as he put his hands to cup your face.

  You closed your eyes and brought out the memories of the days of the future Doctor was with you. You accidentally showed him your would-be future with him.

  He gasped as he released you. He took a few step back away from you. He looked at loss at what to do.

  "Doctor?"

  "You should have told me." He said brokenly.

  "But you told me not to."

  "How can you trust him over me?!" He yelled at you.

  "He is you!" You yelled back. 

  He shook his head and left you behind...again.

  You took a deep breathe trying to calm yourself despite the tears.

  7777

  "Clara Oswald, I hate you." You said as you glared at her. You found out she is the one who staged the kidnapping of you and the Doctor with the help of the Doctor's former companion, Jack Harkness.

  "Now you know how it feel to be manipulated." She said petulantly.

  "You are going to ruin him." You said.

  "He will be fine. He will come to his sense eventually."

  "He might never forgive me."

  "Then he is very foolish." She said. "I just want to fix us, our friendship. No more secret."

  "No more secret." You agreed.

  "So, the threat that alternate Doctor has passed by, there is nothing stopping you to be with him again, (name)."

  "Not this again. What about you, Clara? You love him."

  She hummed. "I think you loves him more." She said.

  "That's not true. You saved the Doctor over and over again. You even died for him again and again. If that's not love..."

  "Alright enough, let's not start comparing who love who more, yeah?"

  "You started it."

  7777

  You sat on your front porch staring at the night sky on your own.

  The Doctor suddenly appeared and walked toward you slowly, almost hesitantly.

  You glanced at him cautiously. You slowly stood up and met him half-way. "Doctor...?"

  He glanced down at you with a look you can't decipher. Suddenly he pulled you to him and hugged you tight.

  You were surprised. But you hugged him back. "I thought Clara said you are not a hugging person anymore."

  "Shut up." He said.

  You smiled and hugged him tight. You closed your eyes in content.

    "one step closer

closer to the light

no matter where we're going

i'll be by your side

and everything we used to know

crashed into the great unknown

one step closer

we're gonna be alright."

find my way back - eric arjes

    a/n: this is very mushy and probably cringe-worthy too. not original ideas but i still enjoy writing it so i hope you enjoy reading it too. please drop comments if you like it.

also, i wanna says thank you to those who follow my blog and has dropped like/comment/reblog on my past stories. thank you so much, dears.

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Two - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Hello! Faster than ever before, I present you the second chapter of Never Alone!

I chose to not describe Marinette with her clothes or hairstyle so that you can imagine her as you want! In my mind, since she's a fashion designer, I imagine her always changing her clothes and very fashionable. I don't see her with her pigtails either. But it's up to you as to how you see her!

Also, I'm French, so if there are any grammatical mistakes, do not hesitate to tell me so I can come back and correct them!

Two months in the new school year, and Marinette was already exhausted. While she had a very calm summer filled with outings with her friends, she was now drowning in work. Jagged wanted her to design his newest album cover, and Clara Nightingale has asked for a new outfit for a music video.

 At school, Alya and Marinette were doing their best to find a good trip for the end of the year. The school had a decent amount of money that was set aside specifically for their class trip, but they would need to organize an event or two if they wanted to go somewhere outside of Europe. They were lucky enough that their class’ trip was set for their first year of high school: Mrs. Mendelieiv’s class’ trip was set for the next year, right before the first set of exams for the baccalaureat. 

 Along with all that, there was also her duty as Ladybug. Hawkmoth has been relatively calm during the summer, but as soon as school started again in September, he released his akumas again.

 Except, now, they were more brutal than ever before.

 Ladybug cursed as the Akuma managed to deeply cut her on her left side. She watched as Chat jumped in as she collapsed on the roof they were battling. True to his promise, Chat took his job more seriously and only joked during patrols now. He also stopped to jump mindlessly in front of her to save her from a hit and actually tried to get both of them out of the way.

 The Akuma they were fighting was a dangerous one. His arm has been transformed into two big shears, and they hurt like hell.

 Ladybug watched with fascination as her hand was tainted with her own blood. She couldn’t remember if an Akuma had hurt her that much before… She knew for sure that she was bleeding too heavily and she was getting a bit dizzy. They would need to end the fight very soon.

 Standing up, she took advantage of the distraction Chat provided to trip the Akuma with her yoyo, succeeding in tripping him. Quickly, Chat snatched the man’s bow and used cataclysm on it.

 As she cleansed the Akuma and watched the light heal Paris and herself as she cast the cure, the red-clothed superhero couldn’t help but think it was time to contact the Justice League again.

 Back when they got their miraculous, she and Chat had contacted the Justice League of Europe to ask for help. They were just teenagers without any training entrusted to protect a whole city as big as Paris, and it was clear to them they couldn’t possibly do that alone.

 The person they had talked to at the moment had listened to them, took note and told them they would come back to them after informing the heroes of the issue in Paris. It was a month later that one of the heroes contacted them, informing them they would not intervene in Paris, as they have been doing a good job up until now and the miraculous cure healed everyone and repaired everything. They then give them words of encouragement before they cut the connection.

 Ladybug had then wanted to contact the Justice League of America before remembering they wouldn’t be able to do anything as France was certainly not under their jurisdiction. 

 And thus, there they were, still two untrained teenagers, acting on instinct against people with magic powers.

 Great.

 She let Chat take care of the victim, still feeling the pain on her left side, even though it was healed and there was not a trace of blood left on her person.

 “Are you ok?”

 Ladybug watched as the victim was taken care of by some policemen and turned her attention to her partner.

 “I’m fine Chat. Sorry I had to let you handle everything.”

 “Hey, you were hurt and losing a lot of blood. It’s a wonder you could even stand up afterward.”

 The girl smiled. “Should we try to contact the JLE again?”

 Chat Noir sighed. “Even though they won’t intervene, they are watching closely what’s happening here. If they haven’t decided to step in yet, contacting them won’t change anything LB.”

 Ladybug sighed. “You’re right. Of course. I should go Chat, I’m about to transform back.”

 “Sure thing. I’ll see you later, then.”

                                                                                               Back in her room, Marinette winced as she sat down on her bed.

 “Are you really ok Marinette?”

 Tikki was looking at her with her big, wide blue eyes. She was obviously worried.

 “I’m fine, just a bit sore. I’m lucky that the cure healed me, but I think I’ll still feel the pain for a few days.”

 While the cure healed her, the pain stayed for some time after, varying on the severity of the injury. Since her latest injure was pretty severe, it would hurt for a little while.

 “Alright, I still have some homework to do for tomorrow. You should eat something and go to sleep Tikki, you must be tired after today. There should be a cookie or two on my desk.”

 The kwami looked at her for a moment before flying over her desk, knowing it was useless to insist and there wasn’t anything she could do anyway. Even if she wished she could take Marinette’s pain away.  

                      “Alright girl, you said you found something for the trip?”

 It was early December now, and Marinette had asked Alya to join her in the school library to discuss the trip. The fashion designer took the laptop out of her bag and opened it to show her what she found.

 “So, you know how the trip also has to be educational? This is the Wayne Career Program. It’s designed for high school students. Each one of us would shadow someone in the firm as a sort of internship to learn about different professions.”

 “Putain, girl! That’s amazing. Wayne Enterprises have a lot of different sectors. I could totally work with the PR team if we can manage to secure a trip there. Plus it’s in Gotham, in America!”

 Alya literally squealed at the idea of traveling overseas.

 “Yeah, I’m a bit worried about that actually. You know it’s not really the safest place on Earth.”

 And what an understatement that was. Gotham was probably the city with the most crimes in the world. It would be a miracle if the school allowed them to go. But then again, the school board would do anything to up their reputation and a class winning an internship at WE… The principal would boast about it years after they had all graduated.

 “There is an essay we have to write to apply. I suggest we write it before we present the idea to Ms. Bustier. We also need to prepare arguments for her and the school board.”

 “No problem girl, I already have tons of arguments there.” The reporter showed her her notebook where there were two pages filled with arguments. The class president nodded, those were really good. She could really rely on her friend.

 “Well, that was quick. Those should be enough to convince them. On to the essay, then. ‘How do you think you can change the world?’”

 They spent hours after that, taking notes and making several drafts of the essay. It took them a week to have the actual final product and when they handed it to Ms. Bustier, she was delighted. It was decided they wouldn’t announce the destination of the trip to the class until they were sure it could be a possibility.

 Alya and Marinette had dropped hints about the destination though, to see if the class would actually like to go to Gotham.

 After a week or so, they knew they had chosen well.

 On Marinette’s birthday, on the 16th of December, after lunch where the whole class sang Happy birthday to her, the class president and the class deputy had a meeting with the principal and the board of the school.

 It was tough to convince them, and the meeting actually lasted the whole afternoon, but at the end of the day, they had all signed the papers that confirmed that the trip would happen in Gotham, should the two girls won the contest. They even agreed to unfreeze some more funds for it. This program would really look good on the school’s record. 

 It was with a bright smile that they returned to class ten minutes before the end of the day bell and announced to everyone that the trip to Gotham has been confirmed. Using the classroom’s computer, the whole class witness as the two girls applied to the Wayne Career Program.

 Now, all they had to do was wait for an answer. 

                                                                                 Life after that was a bit calmer for Marinette, if you didn’t count the Akumas. She worried that they were more and more violent, and more often than not, she had lingering pain from injuries she got at Ladybug.

 But life was good. Lila had even stopped lying and was herself. Even if it means that she wasn’t very kind to anyone, even mocking all of them at times, the class would just scoff and roll their eyes at her antics. The designer still wouldn’t talk to her, but the atmosphere in the class was lighter than the previous year, and for that Marinette was grateful.

 They were all at an outdoor ice rink at the end of January when Marinette’s phone beeped with a notification. 

 “Oh fucking shit, guys!”

 It caught everyone’s attention as the tiny Dupain-Cheng was not one to curse like that.

 “I just got an email for Mr. Wayne’s secretary! Our class is among the nine others to have won the contest! We are going to Gotham in May!”

 Everyone cheered at that, hugging each other and even going as far as carrying Marinette and Alya around, as it was their doing.

 “America, here we come!” shouted Kim.

 “You do realize that you will have to work extra hard on your English, right?” teased Max.

 “Oh, shit.”

 Everyone laughed at that, but it was agreed among themselves and their English teacher that they would all stay for an hour and a half after school to learn the language, up until their trip.

 “I can’t wait to see Gotham’s heroes in action!” squealed Alya.

 “Aren’t they vigilantes?” asked Mylène.

 “Same thing!”

 “Not quite, babe.” grinned Nino.

 Even Lila was smiling with them, and it was huge progress in their book.

 Marinette smiled, “We’ll be there for two weeks. The first week, we’ll be visiting around, and the second week will be dedicated to our internships. I will have to send a list of all our careers of interest to Mr. Wayne’s secretary, so they can organize who we will be shadowing. So, I’ll need you to send me those pieces of information this weekend, so I can send it on Monday, okay?”

 “Roger that, boss.”

 As Alya took her hand to skate with her around the rink, the baker’s daughter couldn’t help the huge smile on her lips. A year ago, there was a lot of tension in the class, and here they were, all laughing together and talking excitedly about the upcoming trip that their class president and deputy won them.

 She could hear Rose talking excitedly about the things she wanted to see in Gotham. She watched as Kim challenged Alix on God knows what and laughed as Max stated that he had a two-percent chance of winning that bet. She smiled as Adrien, with them at an outing for once, fell on his butt and Nino laughed as he helped him up. She even grinned as she watched Lila having a conversation with Nathaniel without being mean or mocking him once.

 She had thought a year before that Lila would never change, but she was wrong. And she was happy that she had been, because even though Lila wasn’t very nice, well, all her classmates were kind enough to make up for it.

 Yeah, Marinette thought with a smile, life was good. And she had a feeling that it would be even better.

Tag list: 

@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant

[lucyvelasco]

have you seen lucy velasco? this thirty-four year old is an assistant district attorney who resides in brooklyn. she has been living in nyc for sixteen years (on and off), and is known to be intelligent and ambitious but can also be suspicious and callous, if you cross them.  people tend to associate them with soft cursing in spanish and designer reading glasses.

it’s me, gabs ( a g a i n ) KFJSDKFH idk what to say about this child other than she is a very sad, suspicious cinammon roll — come love her! i’m, as always, open for any plots and connections! give this a like if you’re interested and i’ll go slide into your dms <3

!!! tw: mention of infertility, robbery, death 

–– @codstarters​

about —

full name: lucía velasco neale age: 34 birthday: january 6th, 1987 sexual orientation: demisexual/biromantic gender: cis female general appearance: pic for reference pronouns: she/her

bio —

tw: mention of infertility, robbery, death

born in santa clara, cuba to an high school student who couldn’t handle the responsibility of motherhood, lucía lived in an orphanage for girls for a few years of her life, very early years. she doesn’t remember it much, if at all, but she has some pictures of herself as a baby with some of the nuns.

INFERTILITY TW. she was adopted by an affluent mexican family when she was two, after they struggled with infertility for most of their marriage. desperate for children, the couple outsourced. to their surprise, however, not too long after they adopted lucía, their own daughter, natalia, would be born.

lucía and natalia were as close as close could get: they had the same friends, the same activities, mostly the same interests... apart from being sisters, they were best friends. although they weren’t blood related, they were always treated as if they were.

they grew up in las lomas, a fancy neighborhood where fancy families raised their children, with one condition: there was a standard everyone had to meet, and it was nothing short of perfect. so of course, the velasco girls had to be the perfect children. and while it all seemed j.c. penney-catalogue perfect: an accomplished doctor for a father, a busy caterer for a mother, and two perfect girls... the pressure their parents placed on lucía and natalia created a barrier between the parents and the children that was never fully destroyed.

the difference was how the sisters dealt with it. natalia was always so sure, so full of self-love and adventure — she couldn’t care less of what her parents thought of her or her interests; whereas lucía, a bit more desperate for their validation, allowed the constant pressure to get to her and become a part of her.

ROBBERY TW. everything changed when the house staff was held at gunpoint during a robbery. thousands of mexican pesos worth of their belongings were taken, and althought no one was hurt, mr. velasco took it upon himself to never let anything like that happen again — he packed his family up and moved them to california. after all, his wife was an american citizen and the children too, by default, so they had no problem moving. their dad had the most trouble getting to stay with them, but sooner than later the family was all together, living in hermosa beach, ca.

always a smart girl, lucía, now known as lucy, got into high school a year ahead of where she was supposed to be, and she met alex warren along the way. they had a strong connection from the very beginning, and although her conservative parents didn’t necessarily approve of her choice, lucy and alex became a couple.

without many details shared with her parents, the girl moved to new york city with her boyfriend after graduating high school and went to college, no problem. she majored in psychology, eventually went to law school.

while in college, lucy and alex got engaged; she was beyond elated, but never knew how to share the news with her parents. nat was the first to know, and the two fantasized about the wedding arrangements for a while. she was so happy and thought alex was happy, too, it never crossed her mind that anything was wrong until after graduation, a few years passed and alex started becoming distant... so distant that there were days they simply wouldn’t talk to each other, some others they wouldn’t even see each other... and the engagement was broken. last she heard, he moved back to california, and while her heart yelled at her to follow him there — she didn’t, she stayed in the city to further continue her career to eventually achieve her goal of becoming a judge.

still heartbroken, lucy found her sister’s relationship with aristóteles pineda to be infuriating: both from her parents’ influential opinions and her own jealousy from her failing relationship. watching her sister being so in love with someone her family hated was familiar, but instead of supporting nat like she had done with her, she sided with her parents’ — to appease them, since they were surprisingly angry about her engagement not working out — and thus her relationship with her sister started to crumble.

DEATH TW. she kept her distance from pretty much everyone: she didn’t make any appearances back in california when her niece was born, and to this day, lucy regrets it with all her heart. she never really spoke to nat again: she was taken from them way too soon in a tragic car accident, that managed to only kill nat. aristóteles and the child survived.

broken with grief she just didn’t know how to process, she yet again joined her parents’ in their accusations towards the young man, blaming him for the death of their daughter. lucy even went out of her way to make sure she told him how much he was despised by the entire family, how she never wanted to hear of or see him again.

things like these will harden up anyone. lucy placed her focus entirely on her job, working in some legal firms as a paralegal until she made it to the d.a.’s office, scoring a job as an assistant d.a. but as years went by, she realized how nobody in her family seemed to talk about nat’s death, even though they all remained in california and the events would be painful, no matter how much time passed — right? but nobody did. 

with a heavy heart and a bruised ego, lucy has recently learned about ari’s whereabouts in the city, and has made it her new mission to apologize for how she treated him and reconnect with bella, her niece, as she is the only piece of her sister she will ever have left.

headcanons —

lucy has tried to channel her negative energy since losing her sister into self-defense. she’s proficient in krav maga and kickboxing!

afterwards, realizing aggression wasn’t the best way for her to go about things (although self-defense has proven to be useful in the city and in the courtrooms), lucy found a healthier way for her to let out her energy: dancing. nothing fancy, she attends zumba classes and loves throwing it back on the weekends lmao

her apartment complex doesn’t allow pets, but she’s befriended a feral cat that she feeds and pets every so often, she calls her bicha.

[transcendence-au]

The Demonology Teacher from the Black Lagoon

“Urgh,” groaned Kitty, dropping her head onto her arms. “I don’t want to take demonology.”

Dani rolled her eyes and patted Kitty’s head condescendingly. “It was this or Euro,” she said, not for the first time. “You’re lucky I talked your mom into letting you take it with me, or you’d be stuck with Fraser for the year.”

“Urgh,” Kitty reiterated.

“Oh, come on,” said Dani, injecting some brightness into her voice. “It’s demons and magic and the history of the Transcendence! It’s probably the most interesting history you could take here.”

“I bet it’s all gonna be like, one demon will ruin your life, don’t summon or you’ll get hooked, and all that crap,” Kitty retorted. “It’s not like anyone’s stupid enough to summon a demon. They’ve been giving us the presentation every year since, like, preschool.”

“Just last week, Ben Lopez tried to summon the Dreamweaver to get Abby Mason to date him,” said Dani. “There’s always idiots.”

Kitty raised her head to look at Ben, who was sitting at a table across the classroom. “Did it work?”

“I mean, I don’t know if the actual summoning worked, but Abby’s definitely not dating him, so, like, not very well.”

Kitty snorted. “Where’s Walsh, anyway?” she asked, glancing at the door like she expected their demonology teacher to come in any minute.

Looking at the clock that hung above the doorway, Dani shrugged. “If she’s not here in three more minutes, can we go home?”

And as if on cue, the door opened and a teacher walked in.

Dani, like Kitty beside her, dropped her head onto her arms.

“Hello!” the teacher exclaimed brightly. “Welcome to demonology!”

“Oh my god kill me,” Dani muttered to Kitty. “I’m not gonna last a year with this guy chirping at us.”

“At least he’s not Walsh,” Kitty whispered back. “She’s, like, eighty or something. And, you know, a woman. This guy’s kinda hot.”

Dani coughed out a laugh. “Ew,” she said, but looked up.

He was kinda hot, was her first thought. Tall, skinny, light skin, floppy brown hair, actually pretty young-looking, a smile that actually looked genuine and not dead inside like most of the teachers. Forget first day of school— this guy seemed like it was his first day as a teacher, period.

“Some of you might have noticed that I’m not Mrs. Walsh,” he was saying to the class. “Don’t worry if you didn’t realize, though! It’s been a long first day of school.”

Kitty groaned. “Oh my god, he sounds like my dad.”

Clara Chang’s hand flew up, and the teacher pointed to her. “Yes?”

“Uh, where is Mrs. Walsh?”

“Unfortunately,” the teacher said— was he smiling?—  “Mrs. Walsh fell down the stairs yesterday evening and broke her tailbone. She’s in the hospital right now. She should be back in a month, assuming the best-case scenario.” He was definitely smiling. “Fortunately, that means you guys have me for the foreseeable future!”

He turned around to face the whiteboard behind him, and Kitty tapped Dani’s arm. “Does he have a tattoo?” she hissed. “On his arm, look.”

He was wearing a sweater vest, but his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and Dani spotted some ink peeking out from under his left sleeve. “Looks like a circle or something,” she whispered back.

Kitty’s eyes went wide and she seemed to be about to say something else, but at that moment the teacher turned back around and gestured grandly to the whiteboard. “Mr. A,” he announced, and the words were indeed written there, in lovely cursive (and, for some reason, bright orange marker). “That’s me, and I’m your demonology teacher! Now, it’s time to figure out who you are.”

Dani contemplated the pros and cons of putting her head back in her arms and going to sleep as Mr. A pulled out an attendance sheet and started reading down the list.

-

“No, but, like, there was something really weird about that, right?” said Kitty practically as soon as she and Dani exited the classroom.

“What, the history of the Transcendence?” Dani asked. “I mean, yeah, it’s when magic and all that crap appeared for the first time, of course it’s weird. God, I hate first-day pretests.”

Kitty shook her head emphatically. “No, no, I mean Mr. A!”

“Yeah, he was really young…”

“You— Dani, listen to me!” Kitty exclaimed, stopping in place. “Look, just— listen. Demonology teacher, really young, weird circle tattoo, won’t say his name but it starts with A… what does that sound like?”

“Wait,” Dani said slowly, “so you’re saying you think—”

“That he’s the Dreamweaver?”

Dani jumped when a voice that was decidedly not Kitty’s finished her thought. She spun around to face Ben Lopez, in all his short, mousy glory. He cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“We weren’t talking to you, Ben,” Kitty snapped, a flush spreading across her face.

Ben cleared his throat again. “Sorry, uh, I just— I wasn’t listening on purpose, I just heard you, and I— sorry, it’s just, uh, I-I think you might be onto something,” he stammered out. “D-did you see his face when he talked about Mrs. Walsh falling?”

“I knew he was smiling!” Dani exclaimed triumphantly. The other two looked at her, as did some curious students passing by, and she felt her face go hot. “Uh, never mind.”

“But then the, uh, the question is, why would the Dreamweaver want to teach a bunch of high schoolers?” Ben continued. “He’s an amazingly powerful demon— what could he gain from us?”

They fell silent for a moment, before Kitty seemed to realize something. “In the stories,” she began hesitantly, “he liked kids, didn’t he?”

Dani raised a finger. “Uh, when you say ‘liked kids,’ do you mean ‘liked being around them,’ or, like, ‘liked eating them’?”

“He took them,” said Ben slowly. “Nobody ever knew what happened to them. Sometimes he’d just… show up for a summons, and when he left, he took the summoner’s kids with him.”

“Oh my god,” Kitty breathed. “He’s going for all of us.”

-

That night, Dani had a hard time sleeping. She woke up the next morning the second her alarm went off— a feat which she’d ordinarily be proud of, given her usual tendency to sleep through it— and shuffled downstairs to toast a bagel.

“Is everything alright?” her mom asked when Dani sat down at the kitchen table.

“Just tired,” she responded, because she couldn’t very well say I think my teacher is a demon who’s out to kidnap the whole class.

“It’s only the second day,” said her mother, laughing. “How are you tired already?”

Dani only yawned in response.

Finishing her bagel, she tossed her computer into her backpack, said a groggy goodbye to her mom, and headed down to the bus stop, where she waited for the five minutes it took for the bus to arrive. She flung herself into the first empty seat she found and leaned against the window, ignoring the bump bump bump her head made against the glass as the bus started to move.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Opening the browser, she slowly typed, dreamweaver. The entire first page was taken up by some software program of some kind, so she added demon to her search criteria. There we go, she thought as she saw his Demonopedia page. She tapped it and started to read the article.

Dani was somewhat more surprised than she probably should have been when the first section of the page was taken up by a picture of the Dreamweaver’s summoning circle, the incantation to summon him, what to use and what not to use when summoning him (no scented candles? If she was a demon, Dani thought, she would ask for all of her summoners to use her favorite sugar-cookie scented candles), the sorts of acceptable and unacceptable sacrifices, and a link to the page for common deals and how demons might twist them. After a lifetime of being told that summoning demons was always a mistake and would be deadly, it was a little bit startling to see such clear instructions for how to do so.

Her eyes glazed over as she skimmed the page. Most commonly appears as a man in a suit… seems to act friendly… unknown, but she seems to be either his sister or his wife… also linked to the Woodsman… their children being taken… wait, there it was! Dani returned to the start of the paragraph and read it more carefully.

The Dreamweaver has, on several notable occasions, destroyed entire cults, apparently simply for using children as human sacrifices. For this reason, some summoners have attempted to offer him live children as sacrifices instead; in all such cases, the children were either found back at their homes with little to no memory of the event, or were taken by the Dreamweaver, never to be heard from again. The cults that opt to try this alternative method of human sacrifice still tend to be destroyed, but in a less gruesome manner than those that sacrifice the children themselves. On other occasions, summoners with children of their own have found their children being taken upon the Dreamweaver’s completion of their deal. The children seem to have no connection to the deals themselves, not being used as sacrifices or as the subject of the deals, so it is speculated that the Dreamweaver simply takes children for reasons of his own. Although his reasons are not known, the most common theory is that he is taking them for consumption at a later date.

Dani stopped reading and closed the tab as a cold pit formed in her stomach. If this was true, then all of the students at her school were in danger, and she was the only one who could stop them!

“Hey, Dani, can I, uh— can I sit with you?”

Well, she thought ass she looked up to see the round face and messy dark brown hair of Ben Lopez, maybe not the only one.

-

Kitty wasn’t on her bus, but Dani met up with her outside of their English classroom. Ben had split off to go to P. E., so Dani made it her mission to fill Kitty in on the newest Dreamweaver information as they walked into the room and sat down in their desks.

“But, like, we’re not kids,” said Kitty after Dani had finished telling her everything she’d read. “Why’s he going after us?”

Dani shrugged. “He’s, like, a million years old, isn’t he? We’re probably all kids to him.”

“Okay. Okay.” Kitty visibly gathered herself together. “So there’s an all-powerful demon who likes stealing kids in the school, and he’s teaching us demonology. This is crazy. Dani, this is really, really crazy.”

“Shouldn’t we, like, tell someone?” Dani asked.

Kitty snorted. “Who, the teacher?” She rested her head in her palm. “Nobody’s gonna believe us. We’re gonna have to figure this out on our own.”

“Not just us,” Dani said hastily. “Ben’s helping too.”

“Oh, yay. Ben.”

“C’mon, don’t be a jerk, he’s helping out.”

“Urgh.”

Dani sighed. “Look, what lunch do you have today? Me and Ben both have lunch 3, we’re gonna go over plans then.”

“Fine,” said Kitty. “I’ll be there.”

-

“You summoned him, right?” Dani asked, taking a bite of her cheeseburger. “Did it actually, like, work?”

“Of course it worked,” scoffed Ben, although the effect was somewhat ruined by his persistent jumpiness. “He just double-crossed me.”

Kitty laughed. “Sure, yeah, that’s totally why Abby rejected you.”

Ben went bright red. “I’m serious!” he exclaimed. “It worked! He showed up right in my room!”

“You summoned a demon in your room?” Kitty snorted. “What, did you sacrifice your lucky underwear?”

“No, I was wearing— wait, no—”

It was too late for him. Kitty let out a high-pitched cackle, and Dani had started giggling into her cheeseburger. Ben’s face somehow managed to get redder. “See if I help when the Dreamweaver tries to kidnap you two,” he grumbled.

Dani waved a helpless hand in the air as her giggling fit continued. “Okay, okay, oh my god, okay, back on topic.”

“Please!” Ben added, which didn’t help. “Guys, demon in our school, going to take our young innocent souls?”

“Okay, okay,” said Dani again, giggling finally subsiding. “What do we do?”

“What can we do?” Kitty added. “He’s, like, all-knowing and all-powerful, right?”

Ben pushed his glasses up. “Well, uh, here’s what I’m thinking. We need proof, right?” Neither Dani nor Kitty responded, and Ben cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. Proof. We can’t just accuse him of being a demon without actual evidence. So what I’m thinking is, one of us distracts him— asks for help with the material, or something like that. While that’s happening, the other two go to his desk and look around for anything suspicious.”

“We can’t just, like, go through a teacher’s things,” Dani pointed out, fairly reasonably. “If we get caught—”

“We won’t get caught,” said Ben. “Not if whoever’s doing the distracting does a good enough job.”

They all paused.

“Wait,” Kitty said. “Can’t we just, like, wait for him to have a class?”

Ben coughed. “Uh, yeah, that might be, uh, better, yeah.”

“Like, I get that you want to make this a cool heist thing, but—”

“No, yeah, I get it, this is probably better—”

Dani sighed. Who knew demon-finding was so convoluted?

-

As it turned out, not only was demon-finding convoluted, it was also really, really hard.

Dani had almost had a heart attack when the three of them got to the social studies department after school and were greeted by a woman at the front desk. Fortunately, Kitty was either not bothered at all, or much better at hiding her panic. She smiled at the woman and walked right past without an issue, leaving Dani and Ben to scurry after her.

“Just look confident,” Kitty told them quietly once they were out of the woman’s earshot. “They never think anything’s off if you act like you’re supposed to be here.”

Dani tried to straighten up, though without much success.

Mr. A’s cubicle wasn’t very hard to find, but to Dani’s dismay, it looked… just like a normal teacher’s workspace. There were papers strewn across the surface of his desk, a short bookshelf in the back of the cubicle which held several demonology textbooks, a poster on the wall entitled “Periodic Table of the Demons,” and one of those glass blocks with shapes inside that Dani had always found really cool. This one had what looked like a miniature copy of a summoning circle.

“Well, he sure does like demons,” Dani said aloud, then mentally kicked herself. Fortunately, neither Ben nor Kitty seemed to notice her stating the obvious.

Ben was looking at the periodic table. “The Dreamweaver is number 13 on here,” he said. “I wonder…” He tapped the Al square, and seemed to deflate when nothing happened.

“Did you think, like, a secret door was gonna open up when you pressed the button?” asked Kitty.

Flushing, Ben looked away from the poster and went to pick up a textbook. “Uh… maybe?”

“Oh my god, no wonder you had to summon a demon to get a girl to like you. You’re a total dork.”

Dani laughed as she picked up the glass block. Pulling out her phone, she opened up the Demonopedia page for the Dreamweaver and compared the two circles. Definitely the same one. “Hey, Kitty,” she said, and Kitty looked up from where she was examining the papers on the desk. “Is this the tattoo you saw on his arm?”

Kitty glanced over the circle. “I mean, I only had, like, a two-second view, and it was partway covered by his sleeve, but, like, it looks pretty close.”

“Okay,” said Dani. “Okay. I think that’s probably enough to… to make a case.” She took a deep breath. “Uh. What’s the next step?”

There was a thunk as Ben set the textbook down on top of the bookshelf. “Next step,” he said, voice hushed, “is we summon a demon.”

-

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Shhh! My sister is gonna hear you!”

“Why couldn’t we, like, do this another time, when your house was actually empty?”

“We have to do this soon, before we get our souls eaten! We’re just lucky my parents are out tonight…”

“How about, like, we just don’t do it?”

Dani tuned out Ben and Kitty’s bickering and focused on the candles. Fortunately, Ben hadn’t erased the summoning circle he’d used to summon the Dreamweaver before, but he’d gotten rid of the candles— it had been fun trying to sneak more of them upstairs past Ben’s sister— and Dani was currently fumbling with a lighter. “Stupid thing won’t stay lit,” she grumbled to herself, and proceeded to knock over a candle. “Oh my god, this is a disaster. If the Dreamweaver shows up, he’s gonna laugh at us. And then probably kill us.”

“Yeah, Ben,” said Kitty. “You might have lucked out and survived last time, but, like, you’re literally inviting him back in to try and kill you again. Except this time we’re here too, so now we’re all gonna die.”

Dani thought she sounded fairly calm for someone who was convinced that she was about to be demon-murdered, but hey, that was Kitty. Meanwhile, Dani’s hands shook so much that she almost dropped the lighter. She swore.

“Alright, so, uh, we know what we’re going to do once he— once he gets here, right?” said Ben quietly. “I’ve got notecards. I’ve double- and triple-checked them so there aren’t any loopholes for him to exploit. We’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. We just have to get answers, and make sure he knows that we know about his plan.”

Dani laughed, feeling lightheaded. “Sure. Okay. Yeah. No way it could possibly go wrong, right?”

Shakily, she lit the final candle.

Ben picked up the chocolate bars they’d nabbed and placed them delicately in the center of the circle.

“Ben,” said Kitty calmly. “If we die, I’m gonna come back to haunt you. And if he says, like, he’ll only take one of our souls, it’s gonna be yours.”

Ben gulped.

“Everyone ready?” Dani whispered, ignoring the voice in her head screaming no, absolutely not.

Dani and Kitty stepped back as Ben approached the circle, hands held high, and began to chant. “Stella splendida, v-vos invoco. Vos invoco ut faciatis voluntatem meam. Dico nomen vestrum: Alcor!”

Nothing happened.

“D-did we—” Dani started to ask, before Ben turned around and made hurried shushing motions.

And— there. As Dani watched, a cloud of black smoke formed within the circle, seeming to flow upward from the lines on the ground. A high-pitched ringing sound echoed through her head, and the temperature in the room seemed to abruptly drop. The candles that Dani had spent the past ten minutes painstakingly arranging and lighting blew out in an instant, and Dani stood frozen in place as the smoke coalesced into a humanoid form with a fwoosh.

“W̡͇̤̠̪͒̔̒͑̂̽́h̜̠͉͔̬̻̣̅̀͛̇͛͐̏̈́͘͜͡ō̶͎̙͚̭̝̯̌̋͆̄ d̳͚̜̞̜̿̀̅̑̕͘͘͢͝ͅa̷̢̞͍̬̤͖̤̯̦̎̋̋̏̎̓̔̂̕r̬̙̳̠̪̞͈̗̟̮͌̒͆̂͊̚͠e̢̤̺̺͚͊̔̋̽́̾̕ͅs̡̡̘̻̱̎́͗̀̾̂͗ s̷̨̢͕̣̞͉̞̯̖͆̇̉̋̀̄̅̚̕͡ͅu̧̯̝͍͉͍̪͍͂̓̓̾̀̄͂͂m̸̨͙̘̬̜̩̙̝͚͍̂͌͛̚̕ṃ̨̧̧̗̪̥̹̺͆̆͂͋̎̽͢o̴̫̠̮̩͔͈͎͖͛͋̏̉́͜n̨̡̛̩̣̬̻̉̽́̓̽̑͘͞ A̶͎̟̼̗͔̯̼̯̮̬͛̑̆̋̀ļ̖͔̳̹̤͎͂̉̓̂̊̐͗̓͐͝c̡̩͇̟̺̗͙̖̤͋̿̂̃́͡ō̢͖͕̲̬̖̗̳͋̆̅̐͑͠ŕ̵̼͔̱̤͙̦̩̇̀̃̽̋̃̎̆͝ ẗ̝̼͔̮̥́̀́̕̚h̶̺͖̬͖̓̒̒̑̉̄͆̀͜͝ę̴͚̦̠̤̲͇͇͒̅̋̾͂̌ D̜͈̝̯̗̋̈̐̇̂͂̆̒̋̕͜͜r̸͙̟̻͙͚̮̖̠̋̂͛́̕͢͜e̜͈͈͖͈͈̺̠̜͇̾̌͒̅̒̋̊̊͝a̶͎͓̰͉͕̓̔̑͘͞ḿ̶̡̰̤̯̙̺̘͕̒͋̀̕͟͡w̶̨̫̭̖̮̞̙̫͑͊͑̐̔̿ẽ̴̡̘̦̙͙̰̣̰̥̊͊͌̔̽͜á̷̲̠̹̫̞̝̗͇̪̈́̓͊̎̑̂̿͟͠͞v̷̧͕̹̠̘̖̠͍̎̒͗̇̄͛̑͞͞͡ę̵̗͈͇̪̳͔̒͂̇̈́̅̆͢ṛ̡̛̻̙̗͖̘̓̃̏̿̽̓͗̓?̵̢̙̣̰͚͈͍̻̿̽̓͋̈̒͌̽̚̕͟ͅ”

Kitty meeped.

The demon glanced over at Kitty, then at Dani, who felt suddenly like she was just a single atom, one tiny, insignificant piece of a vast cosmic puzzle, like she would die alone and unnoticed, barely even alive in the grand scheme of the universe— and then at Ben. Dani took a deep, shuddering breath and tried to will her heart to stop racing.

“I̵̧̪̘͠ ̶̨͑̾͛͘t̵̡̟̑̉̒ǫ̴́̀͂l̵̩̓d̷͚̈́ ̷̖̰̉͐y̵̜̠̔͐o̷͕̪̥͐̃͋̿u̶̥̲͈̝͌̌̈́͠,̸̹̈́̉ ̷̛̰̟̉k̵̨͇̘̋͛̏͜i̷̥͐̋̓͐d̸̻̘̽͋,̶̷̧̛̝͕͐̇́̅” the Dreamweaver said. “Ǐ̶̼̘̻ḟ̷̲̜́ ̴̢̘̹̟́̈́̆ý̶̺̝o̵̪͚̫̊̍̅ǚ̵̟ ̸̞̓w̵̗̯̦̺̉̈́͊͠ǎ̷͎̬̓̚n̸̢͈̙̱͒̏̇ṱ̶̉͆̚ͅ ̶̦̃̀͒ǎ̴̳͇̦ ̶̛͔̰͐g̸̜̜̣̟̋i̴̻̚r̷̳̯̟̠̀̋́͠l̷̤̠̒͂͆̓ ̷͈͕̀̀̓͆͜ͅţ̷͔̰̔͒͆̚��o̴̫̹͙̲̊̇̂ ̷̝̼̟̔́l̷͍̗͔̒̅̒̆ǐ̵̮̪̏͠͠k̸̦̖͎͍̐͛e̷͍̫̾̓͐ ̷̢͖͈̝̆͗͒y̴̦̙͎͛̀ò̸̪̮ư̴̜͉,̷̢̧̳͑ ̶̡̥̩̓̃̒̊y̷̢̫͍̏͂́̇o̷͍͂͊̏͠ù̶̝̼͙̠ ̷̤̈́̕ȟ̶̺̞̟͂̉̏a̸̰̎͘v̷͙̒̂e̴̳̎̊ͅ ̵͉̼̬̓ṫ̷͇̲̠̪̌̆ŏ̶̼̓ ̴̨̰̼̂́g̵̡̧̛̊ẽ̷̱̼͕̘̀̋͘t̶̝̮̥̿͜ ̷̧͇̏͐́̚t̴̖̭̤̒ẖ̴̢̣̺̏̐͑e̸̬͔͔͑͌́ͅr̴̹̗̙̒͜͠e̷̝͍͍͇̿͊̔̀ ̵̘̮͚̤͗̔͋o̸͖̰̲̽̋͜n̸͉̖͒̓ ̶̭͉͛́͆̊y̸̰̤͕̪̎͘o̵͓̯̐͌̊͜u̸̫̣̞̰̿͋̈́̆ṛ̶́͒̈́ ̷͖̩̀͜ơ̴͖̦̄̾w̷̨͓̑̃n̵̰͋̾̈.̴̢̪̭͖̓͋”

“Oh my god,” Dani heard Kitty breathe.

“Th-this is different!” Ben stammered. “This is—”

He seemed to have all but forgotten his carefully planned words, so Dani forced her legs to move, walked forward, snatched the notecards out of his hands. “D-dreamweaver,” she read, trying to stop her voice from shaking, “we have summoned you to-to ask you to…”

The Dreamweaver picked up a chocolate bar and unwrapped it. He bit into it, and Dani’s mind was torn between terror that it would be her next in place of the chocolate, and laughter at the fact that a terrifying demon was standing in Ben Lopez’s bedroom eating a chocolate bar. He made an encouraging motion with his free hand, and a hysterical giggle slipped out of her.

“W-we have summoned you to ask you to please call off your plan to devour all of our souls,” she read.

The demon laughed— not the horrible grating laugh she’d expected, but a surprisingly normal one. “You ̢s͢um̨m̀o̵ned̶ m͞e͏.̛..͢ ̀t͞o̵ ás͘k҉ m̸e҉ n͠ot̸ ̧t͏o ̕ta͟ke y͘ou͞r͞ so͜u͡ls?͜”

Out of the corner of her eye, Dani saw Kitty’s exasperation with Ben briefly overcome her terror as she brought a hand to her face. Inwardly, she concurred.

Ben recovered from his fear and took the notecards back from Dani. “W-we, uh, we know about your plan,” he said. Dani could hear his voice tremble. “We know you’re pretending to be our demonology teacher so you can snatch all of the students.”

The Dreamweaver actually looked… confused. She wasn’t an expert in demon expressions or anything, but the expression on his face definitely didn’t seem like that of someone who’d been caught out in evil plans. “Y̴̢̡ou̴r̷̛͢.́̕͡.̡͝.̴̴̸ ҉͞t̀͝ea̸͘c̶̷̸h̷̨e̛r?̛”

Well.

If Kitty didn’t get to him first, Dani was going to kill Ben.

Speaking of Kitty, she’d apparently regained control over her body, and was stalking up to Ben. “Oh my god,” she said. “Were you wrong?”

“I-it was your theory first!” he defended, which would have been a fair point except for the fact that they were all standing in front of a very powerful demon and Dani wasn’t very inclined to take excuses when her soul was on the line. She glared at Ben as well, and he flinched.

“W͢a͟i̕t,” said the Dreamweaver. “Th̛e ͝t̕h͏r͢ee̡ ̕o̵f͝ yo̵u ͘th͡o̡ugh̛t ͘th̵a̛t͢ ̕I͡ ́w͟as ͝your̴ ͞su͏bs̛tit̴ut͞e ̕t̷each̡er?” He started to laugh, and even though it didn’t sound like nails on a chalkboard, it still sounded horrible to Dani. She felt her face grow hot.

“W-we know you take kids!” Ben tried to continue. “And— and Mrs. Walsh got injured, and it all seemed too convenient—”

“J҉or̡dan͟ A̧ysc̵ơu͡gh͡, twe̛n̶t̶y-f̢iv͘e ̶y͘e̴ars͞ o̸ld,” the demon interrupted. “Gr͜adu͝a͠te̢d ͝fro̴m ̕t̵he҉ ͝U̢niv͟e̢rsit͏y o͝f ̡Il̡l͏i͏no̷i̷ś w̵it̕h̴ ҉a̕ ̀major͜ i̕n ́d͡e͜mon͝o͢l͘og͝y. T̡ook ͝o͝n h̀ìs ̸f҉ir͠st ̀t̡e͝ac͠h͜i҉ng jo͜b͘ at M͏idd͏l҉eb͘r̴ǫo͏k̨ ̛H̕ig҉h S͞c͢ho͘ol͜, bef̸o̵r̴e͘ ͝findiņg͝ ̀a͜ bęt̛ter j̕o͝b̶ a̶t̴ We̛st̸ ̧O͞a̴k H͢igh̕ ͏S̛chool̴ ́w͝hen t҉hei̷r ͠demo͝nol͜o̧gy tȩacher ̷fell ̕an̸d͞ ͏b̷ro͟k͏e h͝er ̨tai̛lb̛one. D̷e͡ci̧d͝e͜d ͘a͠fte͜r͜ ̢th̀e Mi̛ddlębr̶o͟ok̴ ̛t͝e̶a͝c̵h̷ing ̡j̨o҉b ͞t҉h̷at he ̡w͟o̵uld go ̢by ̷Mr. ̸Á, due ̸t͘o̕ h̵įs̶ ͜s͘tu͟dent̸s͠’ p͡r͟opensįt̷y̨ ͏t́o ca̸ll ͏him̕… Mr. Ass-cough.” The demonic reverberation that had been present in his words until that point seemed to vanish, and Dani thought he seemed to be holding in a snicker.

Kitty slapped Ben’s arm. “Oh my god,” she hissed.

Dani swallowed hard and said, “We’re v-very sorry to disturb you, then, Mr. Dreamweaver. Uh, w-we don’t actually, uh, have any deals to make, or anything…”

“Ho͞w͢ ̷ab͝o͜u̴t ̧th͜i͡s, ͢th͟èn,” he said, giving a too-wide smile. “A͏n̛ ̧unof̨fici͡aĺ ͠dea̶l.҉ You̡ s̸to͞p ̷sum͟m̷o̷n̷íng̨ ͏d́emo҉ņs͏, a̸n҉d͟ ͢I͜ ̧w̨ill ̴m̴ak͢e ͞súr̶e ̧that͡ Mr͢.̢ A̷ dơesn't̡ ̡re͟a͝liz҉e ͞t́ha̢t͟ t̸h҉e ͢t̡hr̨ȩe ̷o͝f̛ ͘you̷ wenţ ̕th̨rough hi͠s͏ ̨thinģs.”

Dani wanted to sink into the floor.

“F-fine,” said Kitty, who somehow kept her tone level. “We accept.”

The Dreamweaver grinned even wider. “In ͠t͜hat c͘às̶e,” he said, “I͏'l̡l be ̀o̡f͝f!͞ Se͏e y҉o̴u͟ ̛n͘ev̢e̷r!”

And with that, he vanished, leaving only smoke and the wrapper of a chocolate bar.

Dani sat down heavily on the floor, and put her head in her hands. “Oh my god,” she said, and wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment at being so horribly wrong, relief at not having her soul devoured, or, on some level, the thrill she was feeling at having successfully summoned a demon. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” Kitty agreed.

Ben laughed shakily and dragged a hand across the circle, smudging the chalk. “L-let’s, uh, let’s not use this anymore.”

Dani exhaled a breathless laugh.

“Hey, uh, Kitty,” Ben continued. “W-would you want to, uh, go out with me? Sometime? Uh.”

Kitty blinked at him. “Weren’t you into Abby Mason, like, last week?”

“Uh, yeah, but I— I mean, I don’t really know her.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“No, yeah, that’s, uh, you’re right—”

“Like, you seem like a cool guy and all, but, like—”

“No, no, I get it, totally get it—”

“It’s not, like, personal or anything—”

Dani just sighed.

-

“This is so boring,” Dani whined, making sure Mr. A couldn’t hear her as he changed the PowerPoint slide currently being projected onto the whiteboard. “I can’t believe we thought this guy was the Dreamweaver.”

Kitty snorted. “I can’t believe we thought the best way to test it was to summon him and ask.”

“And I can’t believe it’s not butter!” chimed in the third person at their table.

“Oh my god,” grumbled Kitty. “Why do we let him sit near us again?”

Dani turned to look at Kitty and Ben. “We summoned a demon together,” she pointed out. “I think that makes us, like, friends for life.”

Ben actually beamed. Kitty rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.

A warm feeling growing inside her, Dani smiled back.

[lokisrare]

yours

PART TWO HERE

pairings: george mackay x ofc

word count: 1.8k

a/n:  this was going to be a smut but then decided to cut that part off lmao, just the teasing, k i’m leaving, bye love you.

Black and white. That was tonight’s theme at this place.

To say she wasn’t a big fan of this place would’ve been a lie, her most remarkable memories happened here; it had kind of a grungy vibe but with all the flashlights and the common dance music, it looked just like other night club.

“Sex on the beach?” The bartman asked. Miles. He was this incredibly tall blonde guy every girl wanted but yet, he was married, and to another extremely beautiful guy with asian features. It’s was like a race, she always thought, who’s the one who looks more like a god.

“Please,” she said looking at the group of girls going for another round of tequila while they all greeted Mary, the girl who she had come with. She just stayed behind to order her usual cocktail before arriving, tequila was just not her thing anymore.

“They’re gonna regret all those rounds tomorrow” Miles laughed a little while finishing her cocktail, “here you go, try not to ruin this for you too or you won’t be able to drink anything.”

She scoffed.

“Beer is always there for me.”

“Touche, Miss. Have a great night!”

Her teenage years where mostly a blur, the nights out and the illegal parties she got into with the five girls sitting a few meters away had their collateral effects, like not being able to even smell tequila and some other alcoholic beverages. Sometimes she’d wonder if a feeling of regret should go along with those memories but no, not even a little bit of shame; teenage years were made to leave freely and to explore and that’s exactly what she did.

“Danna!” A red hair got up from the table and -literally- jumped on her, the pink glittery veil she was wearing making her nose hitch as the girl hugged her, “I’ve missed you a lot, but like, A LOT.”

“Clara, you saw me three days ago.” Danna giggled. Clara was a lightweight but who could blame her, it was her last night as a not-married-woman as she liked to say.

Clara was a young soul and Danna would’ve never imagined she’d be the first one getting married but Kit came into the picture and things changed, he was a good guy and so much like her friend, a made-for-each-other kinda thing.

“Oh, right. But who cares I always miss you, we used to see each other everyday!”

“That was 5 years ago during high school, Clari.” Danna laughed while the red haired shrugged and took her arm turning both of them around.

“Ugh, doesn’t matter! Here are the girls! And those two there are my sisters in law.”

Danna greeted everyone on the table, they talked a little, the typical chat:

How are you?

How’s work?

How’s life, basically. And that was it, then the rounds of vodka started and after a few of them she could already feel a little bit tipsy, laughing about the stupidest thing.

“So, Danna” Lacey asked from across the table, “How’s George? When are we getting another wedding?” she asked and everyone around cheered except for her, of course, as she remembered the events occurred some hours ago.

“You’re acting like a child, Danna!” George shouted from behind as he followed her into the room.

“Acting like a child? I’m just asking for a little respect over here.” She turned on her heels looking at him with a death glare, “I’m fucking aware your job includes some kissing and stuff sometimes and I can take that, what I can’t stand is this stupid ass bitch throwing herself at you every goddamn time, even when I’M THERE. Does she even know you’re taken?”

George looked down at her. The tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife and right then she felt like punching him on his perfect teeth. Asshole.

“She’s 25 years older than me, Danna, and is married, do you really think she’s doing that? Of course you’re being childish, and yes, she knows you’re my girlfriend, everyone knows.” He said annoyed.

“Fine George, let’s put this the other way around because I think your brain might not be working right know.” George scoffed, rolling his eyes and Danna felt like showering him with curses.

“You go visit me at my work place and Logan’s there, you know I see him as a friend but he’d always wanted more, and he’s there and he’s touching my hair and winking at me all flirty and not so subtly inviting me out for a drink, what the fuck would you do, George, uh?” He just stared at her and then sighed, not knowing what to say.

“Exactly. Now if you excuse me I’m gonna go over to Mary’s to get ready there and while I’m gone, go fuck yourself, George. You’re childish.”

She felt someone snapping their fingers right in front of her face, now everyone on the table looking expectant, waiting for her answer. Ugh, she hated it. The whole attention thing.

“Uhm, we don’t know yet, George’s new project will take kinda long and now that I’m in charge of the magazine it’s not like we have the time to think about it. Plus we’ve only been dating for 8 months, Lacey.” Danna explained letting out a nervous laugh.

“Duh, I know, but you’ve known each other for like, what, for years now? It just took you guys way too long to realize you were head over heels for each other.”

Go to hell, Lacey. Danna wanted to disappear, she hated talking about her relationship and now everyone seemed interested on it.

“Yeah, I guess, you’ll be the first one to know if there’s a proposal.”

Lacey nodded, happy with the answer she got, letting out an ear-killing shout and then everyone just kept talking (screaming) while Danna just sinked a little on her place, she kinda regretted reacting that way with George but also the alcohol in her system told her he deserved it, so she grabbed the vodka shot in front if her and drank it.

George had a bad temper but so did she and even though most of the time they agreed on many things they were jealous people, the problem was that Danna accepted it, while he didn’t and she hated that.

Clara clapping got her out of the bubble.

“Fiiiiiiine, the boys are here, you know girls, Kit and I decided to end the night together, our not-married-yet celebrations joining, yay!” Clara cheered as she waved at her soon-to-be husband coming our way with other men behind him, one of those being George.

Oh fuck me, Clara. Why.

Almost too violently, Danna got it rid of her blazer, adjusting her lacy white top and her black leather skirt, she didn’t know why was she doing it, was she nervous to see him? like a fucking teenager? Obviously not, but she did wanted him to look at her.

When the group of men got to the table, they greeted everyone with a smile and that’s when George landed his eyes on her, down to her cleavage and staring little too much, the whole situation sending a shiver through her whole body. He stood there watching her like it was just the two of them.

“I love this song! oh my God! Let’s go dance people! Party’s on!” Clara got up taking Kit’s hand dragging him into the dance floor, followed by everyone else. Except for George and Danna.

She got up slowly, fixing her skirt. When she looked up, George was standing there and maybe if she still wasn’t so mad, she would’ve gone straight to kiss him right there because of how delightful he looked with those black jeans and the white half buttoned shirt.

When she tried to walk past him, George grabbed her arm bringing her back, their chests touching slightly.

“I’m sorry.” He said against her ear and Danna let out a sarcastic laugh. Maybe she was being childish now not letting the whole thing go but she was tipsy and he was an asshole earlier.

“I’m sure you are. You should, actually. Now if you excuse me I’d like to go dancing and celebrate with my friends.” She tried to let go of his hand but George was quicker and grabbed her by the waist to hold her still, pushing her against the nearest wall.

“Stop asking like that, Danna.” He almost growled.

“Like what, George? I’m literally just trying to leave to dance with my girlfriends.” Danna said looking at him with an innocent expression.

She knew she was pushing his buttons but it would’ve been a lie not to say the most pleasant thing to watch was him flustered, his cheeks turning carmine as he clenched his jaw, the veins on his neck showing and breathing becoming uneven.

Danna’s eyes closed as George lingered his lips against the crook of her neck, not kissing, not sucking just caressing it with his soft lips, earning a sigh from her. She felt so glad they were in a dark corner.

“I told I was sorry. I would never flirt with anyone and disrespect you like that.” George said with his lips still gracing her skin. “I like you, I’m yours, Danna. All yours.”

“I just hate that woman, I’m all about sorority but she keeps making it hard for me.” George laughed at her remark and Danna furrowed her eyebrows. “Don’t laugh, you idiot. It’s true. I just hate her touching you and looking at you and kissing your lips.”

Danna’s fingers went to his cheek so their faces were mere inches apart, noses touching. George looked at her lips and smiled looking back into her eyes.

“You look stunning, y'know? Absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking.”

George said and finally kissed her. Lips moving in sync as his hands held her waist tighter, Danna hands moving to touch his exposed chest feeling his soft skin. George bit her lip and that was it for the kiss to become more desperate, his hands traveled down as she pulled his hair a little too strong. The tension growing every second as they kissed in that dark corner feeling like two hormonal teenagers all over again.

“Oh sorry, I was just looking for my purse!” someone said making both of then jump.

One of Clara’s sister in law was standing there looking completely ashamed.

“It’s ok. Don’t worry, just making up here.” Danna shrugged it off and George giggled a little. The girl smiled shyly at the both of them and left quickly.

When Danna turned to look at George she felt like leaving the place right then, even though it was not possible since she promised Clara she’d stay till the end. He stood there, his hair a mess and cheeks red, his lips were swollen and stained with her red lipstick, his white shirt a mess.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer, sweetheart.” he said getting closer to her, he grabbed her throat and caressed the skin with his thumb, his eyes looking straight to her lips, “We’re going dancing now, and then I’m taking you home so I can show you don’t need to be jealous of any other woman.”

His hands gripping just little hit harder bringing her closer, so he could kiss her one last time.

“I’m yours, Danna. Yours.”

[valkyrieelysia18]

RWBY Rewrite: Penny Polendina

Salutations Tumblr users! Today, we tackle beloved fan favorite robot girl Penny Polendina.

Now as I stated before, I dropped RWBY after Volume 6 and didn’t really watch Volume 7. I have however heard about certain developments and one plot point made me grateful I got out earlier or I would have rage quit this Volume anyway.

They brought back Penny, with all her memories completely intact.

This destroys one of the best pieces of writing in the show. Penny’s death was meant to symbolize the death of innocence in the show and it led in to the Fall of Beacon as well as Pyrrha’s death. Up until now, the show had been treating it as if a real girl had died. Vexed Viewer on YouTube has done a video on the topic that explains this better than I could. Even if they were going to bring Penny back in some way, she shouldn’t have been exactly the same as if nothing happened. Such as her memory of Vale (and everyone she met) being completely gone or her personality being significantly changed she isn’t even the same person anymore.

So, in this post I am going to be going over her history, role in the plot, and ‘successor’ for the Atlas Arc. 

Creation and History

Okay, slight can of worms, but if Doctor Polendina is black, why is his daughter one of the most obviously white characters of the cast?

Alright, there actually is a legitimate reason for that in this rewrite. Penny’s physical features are actually based on Pietro’s late wife Clara Polendina (reference to the Nutcracker ballet) who worked with her husband. The two were very much happy and in love, but Clara died in a Grimm attack before they could have children. Thus, Penny is basically the daughter Pietro never got to have with her. Clara won’t come up that much in the Rewrite, but she was close to both of her husband’s prized students Arthur Watts and Willow Schnee. Arthur would note the resemblance and bring it up during his final confrontation with the doctor (This is what you ruined my life for as well as countless others?! Clara would be ashamed.) Willow would also bring it up and notice the similarities in both Penny and her successor.

However, the Atlas military and Ironwood’s desires to build something like Penny is less heartwarming. There was the original desire of making stronger robots for mass production to protect humans that evolved into infiltration and espionage purposes. But James Ironwood would see Polendina’s plans and see an immense opportunity. A young woman who would never age or die. An individual that they would never have to worry about running away or disobeying orders. Such a person becoming a Maiden would mean that they would never have to worry about the transfer process ever again. That would explain why Penny said that it would be her job to save the world one day, but they don’t think she’s ready for it yet. She is Ironwood’s hope for the future of the Maidens. And just in case she isn’t perfected in time for the next transfer, Winter is being trained and kept in reserve. Ironwood would provide all of the materials Pietro could need, including a crystalized substance that no one knows much about other than it being a classified by the military. It’s source  will be noted in a spoiler’s section in this post, but it’s the very thing finally got things to work.

But while Pietro is aware something is up and suspicious of Ironwood’s intentions, he loves his little robot daughter regardless. There will be some flashbacks involving her first days awake (showing her curiosity and determination) as well as her bidding her father good bye when she leaves for the Vytal Festival. 

Vale

The only thing I’d really change about Penny in the Vale Arc is giving her more time to interact with the cast, especially Ruby. What we got was okay, but I think it would be much more impactful if Ruby got to spend more time with Penny before her death. I’d definitely like it if Penny would bring up her father during their conversations, saying she was sure that two of them would get along given how much Ruby likes weapons.

It might be also nice for Pyrrha to feel a little off by her sensing all the metal when they first meet, but not realize why or how important that is. Just bit of foreshadowing.

Pelia

So, as you might have guessed by now, Penny will stay dead in this Rewrite. With the kind of story and tone I’m working with, it’s important that there is legitimate consequences to events and actions of the characters. As such, characters who died will stay dead. They may be referenced, appear in flashbacks, haunt our characters’ dreams, perhaps having a spirit linger with unfinished business to help the main characters on their path, but there is no chance of resurrection.

Not that Pietro wasn’t thinking along the same lines as others had considering Penny is a robot. They did manage to retrieve her body and core, but when he managed to build a new body, reboot, and restart, it wasn’t Penny greeting him. Rather, it was a completely personality. And they did not recognize anything or anyone. Pietro was devastated.

Thus I introduce Pelia Polendina, or Pelly. This is reference to the Coppelia ballet that actually includes a toy inventor trying bring a doll to life that he calls a daughter, much like Pinocchio. Only instead of magic bringing a puppet to life, the inventor tries to bring Coppelia to life by stealing a human soul and putting it in the doll. Quite the dark contrast and is actually going to be a bit of foreshadowing. I will say her appearance is actually pretty similar to Penny’s redesign with longer hair, though I would picture her more similar to dishwasher 1910′s design in https://www.deviantart.com/dishwasher1910/art/penny3-0-SD-758463321 . Check them out on DeviantArt, their work is amazing.

Pelia is considerably different than Penny. Whereas Penny was bright, enthusiastic, and rather trusting; Pelly is subdued, talks very mechanically, and is significantly less naïve. While Penny longed to be a part of something greater and be with humans despite her lack of social skills, Pelly avoids most people and is afraid of what Atlas(and by extension Ironwood) wants with a robot like her. This is partly due to her finding about Penny and how the world reacted with the Fall of Beacon.

In regards to Penny, she feels rather guilty about being alive in her place though she doesn’t quite realize that’s what she is feeling. This would lead to her trying to find out everything she could on Penny to understand her emotions, learning about Ruby and the others in the process. Pietro is devastated by the loss and incredibly frustrated with her, not really considering her alive in the same way Penny was which given her personality isn’t that unreasonable to think. Pelia does care about her creator and tries to assist him in what ways she can, but his attitude towards her is not positive and as such she mostly stays out of his way.

Atlas

Pelia’s first proper appearance would be in the Atlas Arc when the group visits Doctor Polendina for weapons repairs after their meeting with Ironwood doesn’t go well and the good doctor isn’t the on the best terms with the General at present. The man is not pleased or in the mood to humor them, though he does defrost a little when Ruby shows her geeky know how on weapons. (He may have also said some rather terrible things about Pyrrha which made the group somewhat grateful JNR wasn’t there.) As the group leaves the building and goes on their way, Ruby looks up to the upstairs window as she feels she’s being watched. She doesn’t see anything, but as she turns and walks away Pelia comes into view from the window. Having recognized who the people who just visited were, Pelly sneaks out and follows the group in the secret for a while.

She finally gets revealed while the group is watching Weiss dance ballet at a Mantle Community Theater. The Atlas Arc is primarily Weiss centric and part of her Arc in proving herself as worthy of the Schnee name will have her prove herself to people of Mantle. One such instance will have her helping out at the community theatre in learning and teaching dance. It’s in which she is showing off her skills Pelia accidentally reveals herself to the group having been incredibly entranced in ballet (little show to her inspiration). Ruby at first mistakes her for Penny so she gets very emotional, only to temper down when she realizes Pelia’s not her. The situation is cleared up and the group gets more insight into the situation of Atlas as well as the strain between the General and Pietro.

Pelia has three distinct dynamics of interactions with the group: Ruby on Penny, Weiss and Winter on siblings, and Oscar on succession. With Ruby, Pelia gets to know more about Penny as a person and Ruby gets a chance to fully process her loss. Pelia’s not Penny, but she comes to appreciate her all the same. Ruby also comes up with Yang in regards to sibling interactions, but Pelia’s focus in this case is more on the Schnee siblings. She’s basically wondering what sisters act like and whether Penny would have seen her as a sister. This lets her get some ballet lessons from Weiss as well as close to Winter. Then there’s her relationship with Oscar with the two of them having to deal with their predecessors and the problems they’ve let them to deal with. The both of them come to realize through talking with each other is that they shouldn’t compare themselves to those who came before. They have their own views and ways of doing things different from their predecessors and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. The only thing they can do is do things the best THEY can.

The big turning point in the Atlas Arc for Pelia is when Pietro finds out abut the Winter Maiden and what Ironwood’s original plans were.  While I am majorly rewriting the Atlas Arc, I do actually like the idea of an old Winter Maiden who is on her last legs. Pietro doesn’t get all the details of course, but it gives him the idea that the magic could bring Penny back to life. Aside from the whole ‘Dead means dead’ world I’m working with, it’s also a way to show that magic that cannot bring back the dead. I know that’s very much true in the show though not directly stated, but here I want to lay the ground rules down on what magic is and is not capable of.

After being called back by Pietro and assisting him in breaking into the facility where the transfer is soon to take place, the two enter the room that was originally prepped for Winter (who is distracted with everyone else on things going wrong due to Pietro’s interference) with the old woman in the pod. Pietro has explained things and orders Pelia to get in the other pod. Pelia doesn’t move, having been conflicted during this entre plan which shows all over her face. The doctor orders again, much firmer this time.  A few moments pass as she thinks it over; fear, doubt, determination all playout in her expressions. Finally, she speaks. “No.”

While Pelia may have been built to be a weapon, she still has free will. Unlike Penny who accepted her role without many doubts, Pelia rejects that her only purpose is to be someone’s tool of war. She wants to help others, but she doesn’t want to fight. I think that if you bring choice into a story as a main theme, you also have to give the characters the choice not to fight, to walk away even if they don’t actually do it. Above all, Pelia doesn’t think that sacrificing others for herself is what Penny would have wanted after having met Ruby and gotten to know what she was like. 

She would tell this to Pietro, who would get furious and argue with her. this would continue until they were interrupted by Watts. Watts, with revenge on the brain, would focus on Doctor Polendina and tell Pelia to run along. I know this seems a little hypocritical for Watts to do this considering his advice to Cinder in Volume 5, but this a different situation. Spoilers for the future Atlas Arc Rewrite and future James Ironwood post, go to the next paragraph if you don’t want spoilers. You see, the villains don’t need the Winter Maiden to open the Vault for them because Ironwood already took the Relic of Creation out of the Vault years ago (and is NOT holding up Atlas). In fact, a bit of the power from the staff was used to create Penny  which was the the crystalized substance. Watts knows this due to his hacking Ironwood’s system and has already retrieved the Relic and sent it on the way to Salem. This will make the results in Atlas a lot more bittersweet: our heroes will win on the people’s side of things, but lose the Relic. Back to Watts, the man is all about efficiency. While the Winter Maiden’s powers would be nice, they don’t have a vessel for it at the moment and it’s not necessary for their primary goal. Once the business side of things is taken care of, then he’ll indulge in revenge.

Pelia, while conflicted, would run and get to the group to tell them everything. She would then spend the rest of the conflicting helping to escort and treat the wounded, giving her a presence to the people of Atlas. Pietro will be arrested and will be convicted for his crimes, Watts dead but having gotten the last laugh in the end with his technological abilities exposing his teacher and those who left him out to dry.

Once everything is settled, Pelly will stay behind in Atlas as the new right hand of new Headmistress Winter Schnee. Basically, she becomes the Glynda to Winter’s Ozpin (though Winter is a much more hands on no nonsense person). She bids the group goodbye, hoping to Ruby that they will meet again.

After Atlas

I don’t have much in mind for Pelia after the Atlas Arc except for two things. Firstly, that she and Pietro do eventually reconcile and develop something of a relationship when she visits him in prison on her off days. (Jacques is not so lucky in regards to his children.)

The second is when she and Winter will meet everyone at the lowest point of the story. Ruby will have learned some pretty dark truths, including some choices her mother made that’s really made her think. Pelia will actually have a similar conversation with Ruby that she had with Oscar. In how she’s no more Penny than Ruby is Summer. She’ll remark that perhaps Ruby put her mother on a bit too much of a pedestal thanks to the way her family viewed her. When in reality Summer was just a person and people make mistakes. Right now, what choices Summer made in the past aren’t what matters. What matters is what Ruby wants to do now.

Okay, I think I started before the coronavirus stuff went crazy. I am so sorry. Not sure when I’ll get beck to this.

However, I know the next subject is going to quite the doozy...

[mistersshelby]

the woman assassin | part six

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX

surprise!!! here’s part six!! i don’t have much to say about it except that i hope you love it. as always let me know your thoughts after reading!!! also side note i think i’ve gained over a hundred followers since i posted part five which is nuts considering how sporadically i post???? so thank you wow

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

TOMMY X OC

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, SEXUAL THEMES

“Oi!” Clara yelled and shot a bullet off into the sky. All three men flinched and looked in her direction, and with a pang, she realized she recognized all of them. Boys she had grown up with. She pushed the sentimentality away. What was more important was that she had beaten them all to a pulp at one point or another and she could do it again. “You lot better run, you know I’m a good shot.” 

They still stood there blankly so she fired another shot near one of their feet. They all jumped and ran off in the other direction, leaving Tommy moaning softly in the dirt. She didn’t lower her gun until they had disappeared from view, and then she ran to him.

“Tom?” She lightly slapped at his cheeks, but he didn’t respond. He was breathing, but it was labored and she wondered if he had punctured his lung. “Bloody hell.” She murmured when he didn’t respond and hoisted him under the armpits, dragging him inside her apartment building. 

“Tommy, can you hear me?” Finally, he moaned a bit in response, “I’m going upstairs to call Polly, alright? I’ll be right back.”

He moaned again and leaned himself against the wall as Clara took the stairs two at a time up to her apartment.

No one was picking up the phone, so Clara finally decided to try the Garrison. When the bartender answered she asked for Polly and a few moments later, her voice rang through the phone.

“Clara? What is this about?”

“It’s Tommy.” Clara swallowed, “He’s been jumped by my—“ She caught herself here, “Adrian’s men. He’s pretty badly hurt and I wasn’t sure what to do—“

“I’ll be right over.” Polly said and then hung up before Clara could say anything else.

Clara headed back downstairs with warm towels, vodka, and bandages. Tommy was beginning to open his eyes a bit, but they were so swollen, he couldn’t see very much at all.

“I called Polly.” Clara said and sat next to him, “She’s coming.” She gently began to dab at Tommy’s face to clean up the blood and he winced.

“Shouldn’t’a done that.” He ground out, “I’m fine.”

Clara laughed, “Yeah, you look bloody fine, alright. Stubborn arse.”

“You stopped them, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” She pours some vodka on the cloth, “They would’ve killed you if I hadn’t.”

“They’re gonna kill me anyway, but now they know where you live.”

“They can’t kill you.” Clara shook her head, “They’re not that stupid. Even without you, they know the Peaky Blinders could destroy them in a heartbeat. And if they’ve forgotten that we just have to send them a message.”

“They know where you live.” Tommy repeated. It was the only thing he’d been able to think about since he woke up.

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle myself. Could destroy any of those boys with my hands tied behind my back.”

“Not if they send ten of their men to your apartment while you’re sleeping.”

Clara was silent, “This is all my doing anyway,” She said quietly, “Don’t worry about it. You’ve already troubled yourself too much with my mess.”

“Well Clara, I think I like your mess quite a lot actually and I don’t foresee myself stopping until it’s all cleaned up.”

Clara stopped what she was doing for a moment and stared at him, thrown by this admission, but before she could figure out how to respond, Polly walked in, the boys trailing behind her. Michael was noticeably missing.

“For Christ’s sake, Tommy, you’d think you’d know better than to wander off by yourself in the middle of Small Heath when you’d just killed another gang’s leader.”

Tommy grimaced as he shifted himself on the stairs, “Why don’t you say it louder so the whole apartment building hears you, huh Pol?” She rolled her eyes at him, “I was just trying to get to my car so I could go home. But they were waiting for me. You shouldn’t have come, I’m going to stay here with Clara, they know where she lives.”

Clara turned to him, a look of confusion on her face. “If that’s alright with you, of course.” He added.

“No offense Tommy, but you’re not in much shape to defend me. You’d only be a liability if someone did show up.”

“We’ll stay with her, Tom.” Arthur piped up, “Me ‘n John will.” John nodded next to him.

Clara was even more confused by this proposition seeing as the last time she checked, Arthur hated her guts, “Really, everyone, it’s alright. I can take care of myself.”

“Why don’t you put your pride away for once and accept help when you need it.” Tommy said lowly.

“Oh yeah?” Clara raised her eyebrows, “Look who’s talking.” 

“Clara, I— I realize now that I haven’t been, er, respectful of you and if it’s alright with you, I’d like the chance to make it up to you.” Arthur said while looking at the floor. Clara thought this was all very bizarre but she didn’t say so.

“That’s just lovely of you to say, Arthur, really,” Tommy said when Clara only stared at Arthur blankly, “You’ll accept his apology, right Clara?”

“Fine,” She sighed, “But there’s not much for you to sleep on upstairs.”

“That’s alright, we won’t be sleeping.” John said and began to go up the stairs. 

“Excellent,” Tommy groaned as he pushed himself to standing, shoving off both Polly and Clara when they tried to help him, “Polly, take me home. Clara, if you sleep, sleep with your gun loaded and under your pillow.”

“Don’t know how to sleep any other way, Thomas. Goodnight.” And she headed upstairs to greet the Shelby boys, “Fucking Shelbys.” She muttered again.

***

Clara tossed blankets and extra pillows towards John and Arthur though they insisted they didn’t need them. “You’ll need them,” Clara insisted, “I know those men, they aren’t coming tonight.”

“They’ll come eventually.” John insisted.

“Yes, and when they do, you’ll be well rested. It won’t be tonight.” Clara said and shut off the lights, leaving only the lamp by the door on as she climbed into bed. “If either of you even come within a foot of this bed while I’m asleep, I implore you to remember there is a loaded gun beneath my pillow and I am a light sleeper.”

Arthur shook his head, “We wouldn’t--”

“Please,” Clara interrupted, “I’ve been surrounded by men like you my entire life. Spare me the lies.” She turned out her bedside lamp, “Goodnight.”

***

Tommy found her in Charlie’s yard, firing her gun at targets and seeing how quickly she could reload.

“Arthur and John said the night was uneventful.”

Clara looked over her shoulder at Tommy before turning back and emptying her gun, “You look like hell.” Was all she said.

Tommy lit a cigarette as he watched her reload and fire again, “You’re wasting bullets.” 

“I’m going to kill the three men that did that to you.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Sounds like you have a plan.”

“I do.” Tommy waited silently for her to continue so Clara put her gun down and turned to face him, “Those three men are my cousins. They were my father’s best men and then Adrian’s best men. Without my father, without Adrian, and without them, the gang will dissolve.”

Tommy nodded and put out his cigarette, “Still waiting to hear the plan.”

“One of their only sources of income now that my father and Adrian are gone will be to work security at events, namely, Alfie Solomons’ events. Luckily, he’s having a big event at his distillery this weekend.”

Tommy was already shaking his head, “No, I’m not causing trouble with Alfie, I already have enough problems.”

“Well why don’t we just go ask Alfie? As far as I know, the security is pretty much worthless, Alfie just never wanted to waste time on a petty gang war with my father by firing them. We’d probably be doing him a favor.”

“You want to just ask Alfie Solomons if you can murder his security team on Saturday?”

Clara shrugs, “Yeah, why not? Do you have a better idea?”

“Yes, killing them quietly.”

“Not as fun. I want them to know it was me and I want everyone else to know that I was the one who destroyed them.”

Tommy was silent for a moment, watching her, “Are you doing this to prove to yourself that you can after how Adrian went?”

Her face didn’t so much as twitch, but inside she wanted to scream at him a bit for being so goddamn right all the time. It was infuriating. He didn’t know her at all, and yet he could read her like a book, “I have nothing to prove.”

He watched her for a moment longer before sighing and turning away, “Fine. I’ll contact Alfie.”

***

“Y’know, Tom, I haveta say, I was surprised to hear from you, mate. You look like hell, you get in a fight with that brother of yours? Thought he had changed now.” Tommy doesn’t respond and Alfie Solomons eyes Clara even as he directs his words at Tommy, “I don’t like that there’s a woman here, mate, thought this was a business meeting.”

“Surprised you don’t recognize me, Alfie.” Clara spoke before Tommy could respond, “Guess that’s probably because the last time you saw me I was about half my height and I didn’t have the tits that you keep eyeing.”

Alfie’s eyes came back up to meet hers. “Clara... Thompson?”

“I go by Lewis now.”

“Well I’ll be damned.” He shook his head, “They’ve been saying you killed your dad, eh?”

“It was self defense.”

“You know, I bet your family would give me a whole lotta money if I gave them a ring and let them know you were here.”

Clara rolled her eyes, “You and I both know they don’t have any money to give you.”

Alfie redirected to Tommy, “You’ve got yourself in a bit of a mess with this one now, haven’t ya mate?”

Tommy lit a cigarette, “I’m always getting myself into a bit of a mess, Alfie, but I have yet to find one that I can’t get out of.”

“I would like to take my family off your hands. Permanently. This Saturday.” Clara said, directing Alfie’s attention back to her.

“You want to kill more of your family?”

“Well yes, Alfie, it’s kill or be killed.”

“And what do I get in return if I allow you to kill people in my employment?”

“The Peaky Blinders will fill in for your security until you find someone to replace the Thompson family.” Tommy said.

Alfie laughs then, “You think I’m gonna let you lot run my security?” He continues laughing, neither Tommy or Clara breaking their straight faces. “That’s bloody funny, mate. You’re funny, knew I liked you.”

“What do you want, Mister Solomons?” Tommy asks, sounding bored.

Aflie began eyeing Clara again and it took everything in her not to leap across his desk and strangle him, “I’m not a bargaining chip.” She spat instead.

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot, innit?” He sighs and folds his hands in front of him, “A little birdy told me you’ve got yourself very comfortable overseas in America, Thomas, is that true?”

Tommy nods, “And what interest do you have in America, Alfie?”

“I want some of the fun. You’ll ship my whiskey over the pond.”

“No.” Tommy shook his head, “For killing a couple of no good security that you don’t even want, you think I’ll give myself a competitor in the Americas?” He turned to Clara, “Come on, Clara, it’s not worth it, we’ll figure out another way.”

They moved to stand but Alfie stopped them, “Fine. There’s a gang moving into my territory, Russian by the looks of it. In return for allowing you to kill the Thompsons, I want your protection against the Russians.”

Tommy is silent for a moment as he considers it before spitting in his hand and reaching over for Alfie’s hand. He reciprocates the movement and both Tommy and Clara stand. “Pleasure doing business with you, Tommy, as always.”

“Two of our men will accompany Clara on Saturday. Warn the rest of your men to stand down.”

Alfie nodded, “Wonderful seeing you Clara,” He turned to her and reached out a hand to take hers, “Hope to see you again very soon, under different circumstances.” 

Clara shrunk away from his hand, “The feeling isn’t mutual.”

When she and Tommy got outside he turned to her, “You know, you could at least pretend not to be disgusted by his advances until after we’ve left his home.”

“Men need to learn how to handle rejection.” She said, thinking more about Michael than Alfie.

Tommy didn’t say anything to that, “We’ll have a family meeting about this tomorrow, get the plans down.”

“I don’t want any other men in there with me.”

“That’s not negotiable, you’re not going in there alone, Alfie could turn on you in a second and then what’ll you do?”

“What are two extra men going to do that I can’t? You can send men to stay on the perimeter, but I won’t have them coming in with me and that’s final.”

Tommy shook his head and gave Clara a chilling smile, “You forget your place. You answer to me.”

She took a step to him, “This is my plan. My family. I will not bend, Thomas. We do this my way.”

He stares her down for a moment longer before turning away, “The family votes on it tomorrow.” And it’s the last he’ll hear of it. He ignores the way his heart had sped up when she was that close to him, her hot breath on his face. Who, really, had forgotten themselves?

***

Clara sunk in her seat and rolled her eyes as the Shelby family argued over her. Eventually, Lizzie’s voice rose above the rest.

“You’re going to let her fuck up one of our most important allies? For what? Let her family fuckin’ have her.”

“He’s just as much my fuckin’ ally as he is Tommy’s. I don’t need the fuckin’ lot of you to do this, I’ll do it my goddamn self.” She said and stormed out of the room.

Once alone she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was sick of all the Shelbys underestimating her, hating her unless they wanted to fuck her. 

The door opened behind her and in walked Tommy, “You wouldn’t have gotten that meeting with Alfie without me and you don’t have anything besides your body that Alfie would consider trading you for. So I would appreciate your gratitude.”

“Oh, fuck off. Why don’t you ever stand up for me in front of your family? They all think I’m just using you for protection.”

“Well, aren’t you?”

She sputtered, “And you’re using me to do your dirty work so who cares?”

He shrugs, “You’ve only killed one man for me so far. By the time this is done, four will have been killed for your purposes. Beyond that I’ve employed you, given you a place to stay, protected you from the police, put myself and my family in harm’s way for you. Doesn’t seem like an equal bargain, does it?”

“So why are you doing it then?”

He reaches up his hand as if to stroke her cheek, but stops himself, “I think that’s an answer that neither of us are ready for.” He turns to walk back in the room, “Toughen up and get back in here. Learn to deal with my family without storming out like a toddler.”

Clara stood there for a moment, alone again, processing what he had just said to her. Processing the fact that she had wanted him to give the answer she knew he was holding back. Then, she closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to shake out thoughts of Tommy and how she had wanted him to cradle her face just then. And then she walks back into the room to brave the Shelbys.

tag list:

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[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

7. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

"She kept saying she was 'searching for herself'..."

"We've always been close. Now Bea's like a stranger."

"You know what it's like to be close to a sibling who suddenly...isn't there."

If not for a thing called reality, I would have dissolved into thin air a long time ago.

All night, the conversation with Penny in the Three Broomsticks kept haunting me in my sleep, echoes of Beatrice's change magnified in my dreams. Tears kept brimming behind my closed eyelids, stinging my eyes, blurring my vision, as everything finally crumbled away. The more time had passed, and the more I caught up with everyone, the worse the situation seemed to be. No one was able to cope from the previous year, the previous curse. Recklessness, vengeance, bonds severed with a careless snip of the scissors--everyone's minds were plagued with at least one of those.

Rakepick set off more than just a spark in my anger that evening. She had pulled the trigger on the gun, and sent the bullet that went through everyone's chests.

Funny, how nasty the wound gets.

When next I woke, I found sticky, dry tears clinging on my face, my throat stinging with miniature knives. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and putting on my glasses, and got dressed quickly in the empty dormitory. My sight eventually lingered on the small stuffed Puffskein Beatrice gifted me just last year, and my eyes stung yet again from the tears that began to flow, unbidden, over my face again.

Last year. It seemed like a lifetime ago that we were all placed under a false blanket of security, when we thought that we were all going to be in good hands with an expert. How could we have been so stupid to believe her plan? She tore us all apart. She left us all in the dust. All of this now seemed like a plague that is unavoidable. Those affected probably couldn't be reversed anymore. There was no cure for this epidemic.

"How could we be safe when the professors could be the bad guys?"

How could anyone be safe anymore, the way things were going?

---

Murmurs and whispers filled the corridors as I headed out to the courtyard at lunch, a little concerned when I noticed that my sister wasn't in the Great Hall. Did the bullying get worse? I didn't anticipate everyone else picking on her because she had remained unspoken for so long in the halls of Hogwarts--and yet there she was, another possible target for Rakepick and 'R' to exploit.

Couldn't everyone just leave us alone?

Moments later, I reached the courtyard to see Andre and my little sister chatting away near the fountain, my sister holding up a little notepad while writing and listening to Andre.

"Hey," I said with a wave. "What's up?"

Little Em grinned at me and waved back in return. "Hey, Clara. Andre was just giving me some advice on how to look and feel great at Hogwarts. Not that the bullying's getting any better, but you know. Just some general tips and all."

"Ah. Of course you can trust Andre, little Em," I said. "He helped Ismelda with confessing her feelings to Barnaby just last year--and he pulled through."

"Well, mostly because your sister asked for it," Andre chipped in with a laugh. "But I trust your sister and her judgment all the time. Though speaking of Ismelda," he added, turning to me, "you better check this out. A mini courtyard crew, right over there."

I wasn't even thinking about looking for Beatrice, but yet there she was, as the crowd cleared--and she looked...almost creepy. What once was an innocent little girl was now a girl who dressed like she was a punk rock star, with blonde bangs covering one side of her face and an evil darker look in her once bright sky blue eyes. A torn black jacket draped over her shoulders, black fingerless gloves over her hands, black combat boots on her feet that looked too clunky to walk in, and an evil smirk donned over her face---was that really what Beatrice had turned into?

I glanced over at Little Em, whose face had all but drained of colour, and confirmed the worst.

"Wait. That's Beatrice?" I asked them. "She looks so...different. Almost as if she'd gotten rid of all that childhood innocence from so long ago."

The girl who had given that stuffed Puffskein to me last year was not the girl standing with Ismelda right now. It had to be a nightmare. But the epidemic that was the trauma from last year's events had shaken everyone out of control--and now Beatrice had fallen victim to it. Of course she would.

"It's as if Beatrice has been...Ismelda-fied!" Andre remarked with a nod. "I never understood the 'hair-over-one-eye' look--it had to make it harder to see."

Little Em nodded, brushing back a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I agree. We were born with two eyes for a reason, after all."

"But what did you mean by 'Courtyard Crew'?" I asked Andre.

Andre shrugged and gestured over to the duo again. "Ismelda's typically a loner. In this case, two makes a crew."

How long have they been around, though? I glanced over at Andre again, eyebrow raised in thorough confusion, before turning to my sister, who shook her head.

"I suppose you can learn a lot just from a glance at someone," little Em finally remarked. "You can tell a lot about someone within just seconds."

Andre nodded. "Yeah. And I do like to people-watch. You can learn a lot about behaviour--and style--by watching others."

That much was obvious. Anyone could form an instant judgment just looking at peoples' expressions and actions. I supposed that was how the human race worked--you make an impression on someone, and it stays with us forever. In a way, we are each others' enemy.

"I mean, we do it everyday," I said slowly. "I guess I can agree that it's fun. To an extent."

"And the Courtyard is a great place to do it!" Andre agreed. "You should join me more often. Many a clique was formed around this fountain."

"Cliques?" I wasn't sure I heard correctly. "Wasn't there a time when everyone was just friends with everyone?"

"Yes, but we're all growing up. Things change," Andre pointed out.

So it wasn't just the Cursed Vault that was tearing me from a few of the people I cared about. It was part of the social norm, too. People would tend to pursue different interests and hang out with other people as they grew older, thus making some...interesting choices of their own for later life. But would this mean that I would forever lose touch with the people I called my closest friends the longer we stayed in Hogwarts? The Cursed Vault was enough to make me lose the tight-knit bonds I had with some of the people I could at least trust begrudgingly.

"Apparently. And Beatrice too," I murmured thoughtfully. "I guess I'll go and talk to her, see what's going on."

Before either Andre or Em could stop me, I made my way over to the duo.

The minute she saw me, Beatrice gave me a look that I couldn't decipher. Confusion? Disgust? I supposed it had to be one of the two, knowing that the message she had given my little sister had failed to sink in. Meanwhile, Ismelda looked at me as if I was yesterday's leftover dinner.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I just wanted to say hi to Beatrice," I said slowly. "I haven't seen her since the start of the school year, after all."

Beatrice looked like she was going to puke. "Ugh. Looks like my little messenger had failed, and Penny must have gotten to you somehow."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb. I know you're close with my sister, Clara. I suppose she told you how she's upset now that I'm not walking around like a 'mini Penny' anymore," Beatrice spat, rolling her eyes.

What? Why would Beatrice want to automatically assume that her own sister had expected something so highly of her?

"No...no, Penny never said that," I responded. "She only mentioned that you've...made new friends, and you had an interesting summer..."

"Yeah, and why do you care?" Ismelda demanded, folding her arms.

Was this the same Ismelda that shared her deepest vulnerabilities with me when Emily Tyler had so brutally called out her secrets to the entire student population? Why was she speaking up for Beatrice like this? I had no intention of hurting anyone.

"Beatrice was a victim of the Portrait curse," I told her. "I just wanted to check in to see how she's coping."

"Yeah, and I'm not here to help anyone 'cope'," Ismelda sneered.

Beatrice shook her head and sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Honestly, I don't get why Penny's freaking out over the fact that I've switched up my look and started hanging out with a different crowd. She's the most popular witch at school, anyway. Doesn't she have enough people trailing after her without me?"

"I think she just misses you, Beatrice. Please, hear me out..."

And so I tried. I told her about my summer, telling her how I felt like shutting everyone out because I didn't want anyone to worry. But my little sister saw through it, and so I confided everything in her. I was surprised she didn't break from all the things I told her--rather, she was relieved that some of the burden was on her shoulders, for it meant that I wouldn't have to face everything alone. I found that it helped with everything, and made everything much easier.

But Beatrice remained unconvinced. She continuously claimed that she had done nothing wrong--which was understandable--but I still wished that she'd consider reaching out to her sister, and at least let her know what she was going through.

Siblings had to stay close together. Siblings couldn't let each other slip through their fingers. Forever bound by blood, and hence forever bound to an oath. At least, that was how I viewed my family.

"Okay, even if I heard you out, it doesn't change anything," Beatrice finally said through gritted teeth, cutting me off rather effectively. "Besides, me doing all this isn't a problem for me. I don't have a problem, I'm just trying...something new. I wish everyone would just let me be."

"Even your own sister? Beatrice, she's worried about you since the beginning of the summer holidays," I said. "I never said you had a problem. I just wish you'd give her a chance, and tell her everything you're going through."

"You'd think that people at a wizarding school would be more open-minded," Ismelda scoffed, rolling her eyes yet again, and Beatrice nodded in agreement, her eyes now glaring at me with a glint as cold as steel.

"Look, I'm trying to be. But it doesn't help if you go through all of this just to explode because you have no one to confide in. Please, Beatrice, at least consider it--at least consider me--if you ever want to talk about anything," I pleaded for the last time.

"Why are you still talking to her?" Ismelda demanded. "She said to let her be, so leave!"

Yeesh. Talk about rude. I simply turned my back on them without another thought and walked back to the courtyard, where Andre and little Em were talking once again in hushed tones.

"So. Tell me how that went," Andre finally said, sighing with his shoulders slumped.

"It's hard. I never imagined someone this young trying to grow up like she'd rather leave the past behind right now and change herself into someone completely new," I confessed, shaking my head in confusion. "It's hard to get Beatrice to talk to me and trust me--but I can't go back to Penny having made no progress. Even I find it weird that she'd find good company in Ismelda in the first place."

Little Em closed her notebook with a sigh and packed everything in her bag. "So what are you going to do about it, Clara?" she asked.

"The only way I can get through to Beatrice is if Ismelda was somehow out of the way," I responded slowly, scratching my head. "Ismelda seems so protective of Beatrice it's almost impossible to get a word in for Beatrice. So I have to talk to someone who knows Ismelda well, and can tell me how to get past her..."

"Does his name rhyme with 'Farnaby Dee', by any chance?" Andre asked cheekily.

Oh good Merlin, of course! Barnaby would know Ismelda better than I would, and he did offer the best comfort. Besides, I think I really needed it right about now. If anything, his presence would at least make me feel better.

"Oh! Barnaby Lee!" little Em exclaimed and nodded. "He gave me a huge box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans not too long ago. I'd love to see him again!"

And with that, I hurriedly said goodbye to Andre as little Em dragged me by the hand out of the courtyard.

I wasn't sure where Barnaby was, but at least he was there, and he'd help me. Even while I was running, I felt heat blossom from my stomach rising up to my cheeks like a hot warm stove.

Even in the most dire moments, just thinking about him made me feel as light as air. And maybe holding on to that feeling is the only thing I needed.

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 14

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Friday - the wedding, pt. 2 / 2

Breathing deeply, Rose let out a sigh of contentment.  The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, the luncheon had been wonderful, and now she was on the dancefloor, swaying in Malcolm’s arms.  Her head nestled against his shoulder, body flush to his as they moved, was her idea of heaven.

It was why the Gala was her favorite night of the year, more than her birthday or Christmas, New Year’s, or any other bank holiday.  The opportunity to be so close to him, to breathe in his scent, to have him hold her closer – they always danced together for several slow songs.  The first was often spent whispering about how the event was going, the second was for sharing any juicy gossip, and the rest…  She liked to think the rest were just because he wanted to hold her as much as she wanted to be in his arms.  It was silly, bordering on deluded, but- she was in love.

And he wouldn’t hold her like this if he didn’t want to.

“You look beautiful,” Malcolm murmured out of the blue, grip tightening on her slightly as the song changed.  Other couples joined the floor, but Rose paid them no attention, trusting him to keep them from crashing into others.

“Thank you.”  Opening her eyes she glanced up at him, gaze tracing along the line of his jaw.  It was only mid-afternoon but his five o’clock shadow was already strong, and it wasn’t just the champagne that wondered what that would feel like against her bare skin.  “You look handsome yourself. I expected your tux, but this is actually better.”

He was dressed in a morning suit, including a waistcoat, looking very dapper and dashing.  The accent colors even matched the light shade of blue and cream she’d chosen for their colors.

“A tux?”  Malcolm sniffed, affecting a haughty tone.  “During the day?  What am I, a savage?”

Rose laughed, and his mock-disgusted expression melted into a grin.

“No, this was more appropriate.  Besides, I’ll be wearing the tux next weekend, for the Gala.  And if I do say so myself, I look particularly debonair in it, and I didn’t want to take the chance of upstaging the bride.”

“Oh, I get it,” she beamed up at him.  “I’ll be much more dressed up for that as well.”

“As you should – you’re a proper Lady now, Viscountess.”  His thumb began a gentle back and forth motion along her spine, and even though the thick material of her dress separated him from her skin, it was intoxicating.

“Noted,” was all she could manage, breathless, and his crystal blue eyes darkened a bit in response; they even flickered down to her mouth, and for one wild moment she thought (hoped, prayed) he was about to kiss her again.  When he had, at the officiant’s direction, her knees had gone weak and she would’ve sunk to the ground if he hadn’t been holding her up.  It had been dream-like, and all she wanted was for him to do it again, longer this time, deeper, and most importantly, because he wanted to.  She was equal parts pleased and disappointed that no one had yet clinked their glasses to make them kiss; while she would like the excuse, the idea hurt too much, of him doing it only because it was expected.

“Rose?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I tempt you to another slice of cake and glass of bubbly?”

She waited a beat before opening her eyes, hoping the disappointment wouldn’t slow.  “Yeah, course.”

Malcolm led her to their seats; at some point between her visit that morning and the ceremony someone had decided to space out the tables along the wall so they wouldn’t have to go all the way around behind people, and Rose didn’t care whose idea it was- she was just grateful.

“Thank you, my Lord,” she teased him as they settled into their seats, grinning at him.  “Too kind.”

Their glasses had been refilled while on the dance floor, but Malcolm gestured to their server to bring them cake before lifting his flute, Rose copying him half a second behind.

“I propose a toast,” her new husband said, sending a thrill through her.  “To you.  For being the wonderful, selfless human being you are.  Your kind heart and generous spirit constantly amaze me.  And… if I may, for a moment, be selfish, I am very much looking forward to spending more time with you for the foreseeable future.”

Rose smiled, cheeks turning pink.  “Thank you.  And to you, for… for being a good man, kind, trustworthy…  I agreed to this because you are you.  I wouldn’t have done this for… anyone else, basically.”  She pretended to think about it for a moment.  “Maybe Chris Hemsworth.  Or that bloke that plays that detective on that show I like.  But no one else.”  Her smile faded, and she added softly, with a bit too much emotion in her voice, “Just you.”

She met his eye, and slowly, his expression changed, grew more thoughtful and curious and just a touch hopeful.

“Rose-”

-

He knew, rationally, that she didn’t mean it the way it sounded.  It had been an emotionally charged day, the free-flowing champagne only complicating matters.  But his treacherous heart refused to hear it, trying to beat its way out his chest and across the small space to hers, to be forever entwined as they had promised to do in their vows.  He wanted that, a life with her for real, so terribly, and all of this was just a tease, an offer that would never pan out.

And then she looked at him that way, all doe eyes and earnest expression, like he was the only one in the world, the only person she could see, that they were alone in a roomful of people, and he dared to dream.

It occurred to him, then, with a bitter irony, a sucker punch to the gut, that this wedding was the final death knell for any potential relationship.  That now, as her husband as well as her boss, the difference in their power balance was too great.  He could never be certain that, were he to actually be brave enough to ask for what he wanted, and by some miracle she agreed to more, that it was because it was what she wanted, and not because she was trying to please him- her entire life depended on him now, he was responsible for everything in her daily life,  and he could never be sure.

This realization took his breath away, a visceral, physical ache in his chest.  And, judging by the concern spreading over her face it was visible on his, and he glanced around desperately in an attempt to distract her.

“Brigadier!”

His old friend was standing at the edge of the dance floor talking to Clara and Danny, and by the pale expression on the young man’s face, giving him quite the talking-to, which Malcolm appreciated.  Glancing up Alistair nodded, and a moment later, made his way towards him while Clara and Danny escaped to the dance floor.

“Hello, Malcolm,” Alistair rumbled, stopping on the other side of the table from them.  “And Mrs. Tucker, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.  I’ve heard a fair bit about you, over the years.”

Ah, shit, Malcolm thought, belatedly remembering that he had, in fact, mentioned Rose to him once or twice over the years.  Or during every bloody conversation.  “Rose, this is Brigadier General Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.  We go way back.  Brigadier, this is Rose Tyler.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Brigadier,” Rose said warmly.  “I believe I’ve taken a few of your calls over the years.  Malcolm hasn’t told me all that much about you, but what he has says quite a bit.”

“Is that so?”  Alistair narrowed his eyes at Rose, as though sizing her up.  “And what, precisely, does that say- does he say?”

Malcolm held his breath, but Rose hardly blinked at the challenge.

“That you are one of the best men he’s ever known, and one of the few he would trust with Clara’s life, no questions asked.  That the world could do with more men like you.”  Then she grinned.  “His actual words were ‘he’s an old friend, and would sometimes watch Clara for me when Wallace couldn’t’.”

Malcolm’s ears went red, but Rose and the Brigadier both burst into laughter, so he was willing to suffer a bit of embarrassment in favor of two of the most important people in his life bonding.

“Did he ever tell you how we met?” the Brig asked, still chuckling, as he came around to sit in the chair on Rose’s other side.

She shook her head, shooting Malcolm an appraising look.  “No, he didn’t, an omission I hope you’re about to rectify, Sir.”

“Most certainly.  And, please, call me Alistair.  Now, it was-”

“You know, I don’t think I ever got the story of why you’re here,” Malcolm cut in.  He didn’t have serious expectations of being able to keep Rose from hearing the story, but he was inclined to keep them from getting too chummy.  The Brig knew too many of his secrets for their friendship to be comfortable for him.  Even a ten-minute delay seemed a wise move.

Both shot him knowing looks tinged with exasperation, saying they knew what he was doing.  “Very well,” the Brig said, “if you must know right this moment. Clara called and asked me to come- begged, really.  She was surprised to learn I’d never received an invitation, and that was the first I was hearing of this- you, remarrying.”

Fuck.  “I tried to get in touch, but was told you were very busy in Geneva,” Malcolm said stiffly.  “I don’t think your assistant liked me very much- Dorothy?  Doria?”

“Doris?”

“That’s it.”

The Brig smirked.  “You’re right, she doesn’t.  She’s my wife.”

Rose snorted, and Malcolm gave her a wounded look.  “Don’t laugh, how was I supposed to know?”

“You’ve met her at least a dozen times.”

“Still.”

“All right, all right,” Rose interrupted, smirking.  “You’ve gotten your answer.  I was about to get a story- a wedding present, if you will.  You wouldn’t deny a bride her wedding present, would you?”

Malcolm could deny her nothing on an average day; certainly not now that she had made such a sacrifice.  “Go ahead.”

“So-”

“Maybe I should tell it.”

The Brigadier rolled his eyes.  “If you insist.  But I will correct any falsities.”

Taking a long sip of his champagne and bite of cake, Malcolm nodded.  “So, it’s our first weekend in London- divorce finalized on Tuesday, packed up the car on Wednesday, and now it’s Saturday.  Having effectively never been to the city, I decide to take Clara to some of the historical tourist sites, as one does.  We sign up for a tour.  Not twenty minutes into it do I realize that somewhere between the ticket gate and Traitor’s Gate- roughly 100 meters, mind you- this girl has vanished.  Gone.  I about lost my fucking mind.  So I alert the security guard, they start a search party, you’d think someone had said ‘hey, where’d the crown jewels go?’ it was that level of seriousness, which I did appreciate.”  Pausing for another sip, he appreciated how intently both were listening to the story, relishing in their anticipation.

“Everyone’s searching for her, calling her name, everything.  And don’t I hear behind me, ‘Dad, there’s a girl missing with the same name as me, isn’t that weird?  Can we help look for her?”

Rose burst into laughter, so loud half the guests turned to look, including Clara, who got one glance at the three of them and marched over, Danny trailing behind as her ears turned red.

“Oh please, please, please tell me you didn’t tell her,” Clara begged, glaring at him.  “Please.”

“This explains so much,” Rose gasped, holding her napkin to her mouth in a failed bid to repress her laughter.  “Remember?  You did exactly the same thing in Edinburgh, I even called Malcolm, and he said, I quote, ‘She’ll turn up.  Don’t bother calling for her, she’ll think it’s a coincidence’.  Now I know why!”

“It was the first time she did that, but not the last,” he confirmed, grinned at Rose’s good humor.

“Oh, I love it.  Doesn’t explain you two meeting, though?”

The Brigadier beat him to the punch.  “I joined the army at eighteen. When this occurred I was stationed at the Tower working security when this five year old comes wandering down stairs I’m fairly certain haven’t been used in five hundred years, absolutely off limits even to us.  Well, I very slightly outranked my fellow guard, and decided to take her back up myself.  My daughter’s a few years older, and done the same thing once or twice, so I understood the panic.  We’ve been friends ever since.”

“Wow.”  Rose turned back to Malcolm, flashing him a grin.  “That is a great story.  Much better than being uni roommates.”

“Hey, I like our story,” Clara protested, giving an exaggerated pout.  “It’s good too.”

“Of course it is.”  Rose leaned back in her chair, examining the Brig with a considering eye.  “I bet you’ve got lots of stories about these two back in the day.”

To Malcolm’s dismay but not surprise, a coy grin grew over the soldier’s face.  “Why yes, indeed I do.”

“Alistair, I believe this is going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

[sheliesshattered]

Fic meme

I was tagged by @primarybufferpanel​ -- thank you darling, this was a ton of fun to do!

This got a bit long, so I’ll put the people I’m tagging here at the top:  @claraaoswald​, @ambitious-witch​, @someillplanetreigns​, and @junoinferno​, if you feel like playing!

My AO3, my old non-updating fanfiction.net

Fandoms I’ve made fanworks for: Oh lord. I’m only going to count fanfiction that has actually been posted, but if I tried to count up every fandom that I’d started writing for and left unfinished fragments languishing on various harddrives and googledocs over the years, it’d be at least double this list. I have two pseuds on AO3, with the fics roughly organized by fandoms that I post about on this Tumblr account (sheliesshattered) and fandoms that pre-date my time on Tumblr that I don’t post about very much (glasscannon). Putting all the fandoms together in one alphabetized list:

Black Sails - 5 Doctor Who - 8 Firefly/Serenity - 1 Game of Thrones - 1 The Hobbit - 1 The Hunger Games - 1 Iron Man - 2 Law & Order: Criminal Intent - 1 Mad Max - 2 Once Upon A Time - 1 Poldark - 3 Star Wars - 3 Twilight - 7 The West Wing - 1

Number of fics: 38, including a big unfinished epic that I never moved over from ff.n, and don’t plan to unless I finish it someday.

Fics I spent more time on: I’m not even quite sure how to measure this. I’m a slow writer, and a single story can easily hold my attention for years at a time, or be something I return to when there isn’t a newer fandom temporarily consuming me. I don’t tend to keep track of how many hours I put into a fanfic, though. The unfinished epic I mentioned is probably near the top of that list, and was a huge part of my life from 2009 to 2013. Other contenders would be the All Hands series (written with PBP!), and Truth Universally Acknowledged, particularly if you include all the massive world-building that went into that one. 

But really probably the one I’ve poured the most hours into, between research and writing, is a Doctor Who epic that hasn’t yet seen the light of day, called Home The Long Way ‘Round. Because I have such a habit of starting long stories and then not finishing them, I’m making myself get that one completely done before I post any of it to AO3, so I don’t have anything to show for it yet, but I’ve put a ton of time into it over the last five years or so. Hopefully someday I’ll actually get to share it. :)

Fics I spent less time on: Like I said, I’m a very slow writer, so any time I can turn out a story in a matter of days I’m just absolutely shocked. I wrote The Message over the course of about 24 hours, which is probably the fastest I’ve ever finished anything in my life ever, lol.

Longest fic: The All Hands series is sitting at 126,800 words, and PBP and I have more finished for it that we’re hoping to post soon-ish. The unfinished epic made it to almost 119,000 words before I ran out of steam. Truth Universally Acknowledged racked up about 54,000 words before my co-writer and I took a break from it, and probably triple that in world-building bibles and timelines, etc. On the works-in-progress side of things, Home The Long Way ‘Round is sitting at about 40,000 words currently and only about a third of the way done, and the For As Long As We Get series is at 21,000 words between what I’ve posted and what I’m still working on, and will definitely continue to grow.

Shortest story: 10 Seconds, at 208 words. Also one of the very first fanfics I ever finished and posted online.

Most hits: Truth Universally Acknowledged, by like a factor of 20 vs anything else I have on AO3. It’s the only time I’ve written for the main pairing in an active fandom (tho my purview in the co-writing was more on the secondary pairing), and that translated to a stupidly large number of hits. Fanfiction.net doesn’t count hits the same way, but the unfinished epic is sitting at about 3500 favs.

Most kudos: Setting The Stuns’ls, the first in the All Hands series -- which is SHOCKING considering that’s a tiny rowboat of a fandom, for a non-canon background pairing that has literally about 30 seconds of shared screentime, and the two romantic leads don’t so much as kiss over the course of 94,000 words (longing looks, significant hand-touches, mutual pining, definitely, but kissing, not so much).

Most bookmarks: Truth Universally Acknowledged, by a long shot.

Fic you want to rewrite or expand: I don’t tend to edit a story once it’s been posted, beyond correcting a typo or adding a missed word. Once it’s published, it’s finished and I don’t change it significantly. I do have quite a few (so, so many) unfinished stories that I would love to finish up at some point.

Total words combined: Counting only published fics, including the unfinished epic (and a companion piece for it) that lives only on ff.n, I’m currently at 376,542 words total.

Fav fic you wrote: How can you make me choose between my children like this, honestly?? Siiiigh. I’m with PBP, whatever I’m working on currently is usually my favorite. I’m having a ton of fun with For As Long As We Get, and can’t wait to publish the next part of that, hopefully sometime this month. I’m incredibly proud of All Hands, and that occupied such a specific time in my life that I’ll always think of it fondly. I’m exceptionally happy with the character voices and use of language in both Breathe Again and Upon This Rock Will I Break Myself, Until It Shows Me Your Beloved Face, and tend to feel like they don’t get enough love vs how much I love them. But my one true favorite is and will always be Home The Long Way ‘Round, and hopefully I’ll actually be able to finish it and post it someday.

Share a bit of your WIP or idea if you have anything planned: Again, how can I possibly choose just one?? Even just within the Doctor Who fandom, I currently have more than half a dozen stories actively in progress. But since I’ve talked it up so much without being able to link to it at all, and just declared it my all-time fav, I’m going to break one of my own rules and post the whole first chapter (eek!) of Home The Long Way ‘Round behind a read more:

Chapter 1: Orange Dreams

The sound of the wind is whispering in your head Can you feel it coming back? Through the warmth, through the cold, keep running ‘til we’re there. We're coming home now, we’re coming home now. —Home, Dotan

 The winds shrieked and howled around her. Clara had never been in a tornado, but she imagined it would feel like this to stand in the eye of one. She could see gusts lifting the tops off the sand dunes in shimmering ribbons, gold against the orange sky. The waves of airborne sand dissipated a few feet from her, leaving only a jagged grittiness in the air.

A woman with long blonde hair was yelling at her, her words ripped away by the wind.

“Tell me again!” Clara called back to her. “Tell me how to find home!”

“It’s just physics!” the other woman shouted, taking a step closer; they were nearly the same height. “No information can ever be lost! Start from zero, and run the math! We’ll be waiting on the other end of that equation!”

There was something Clara desperately wanted to tell this woman who looked at her with kindness behind the steel of her eyes, but in that moment, the words wouldn’t come.

“Look!” someone yelled behind Clara, and though she didn’t want to take her eyes off her, she instinctively looked up, following the line of the other person’s arm up into the gathering storm-whipped dusk. There, silhouetted against the last of the light, was the unmistakable blue boxy shape of the Doctor’s TARDIS, spinning quickly as it flew away—

Clara jerked awake, her heart hammering against her ribs, already sitting up and pulling off her sleep mask before she realised what had woken her was the sound of the TARDIS materialising in the sitting room of her flat. She took a moment to catch her breath, trying to hold onto the details of the dream. In the other room, the TARDIS’s familiar wheezing and groaning came to a stop with a soft thud, followed by the squeak of the door.

“Doctor?” Clara called, not bothering to hide the sleep nor the annoyance in her voice.

He poked his head around her bedroom doorframe, grey hair awry and his most innocent expression plastered on — which meant he knew he was waking her and felt at least marginally bad about it. “Hello, Clara. It’s Wednesday,” he said pleasantly, by way of explanation.

“Is it?” she asked, deadpan.

“Technically.”

“You do know that I have to work today, don’t you?”

“Not for another six hours. So come on, up-and-at-‘em, plenty of time to go out and save the universe and still be back in time for your morning coffee. I’ve an adventure that simply won’t keep, so come on!”

His excitement was infectious, as he must have known it would be, but Clara clung to her annoyance a little longer, mostly for show. “You have a time machine: everything can keep,” she replied, but waved him off before he could launch into a lecture on all the ways that statement was false, at least from a temporal physics standpoint. He lectured anyway, hovering outside her bedroom door as she dressed, though Clara expected it was mostly to keep himself from pacing in anticipation. She followed more than half of it, and worried a bit over how often she let him babble on about the minutiae of time travel these days.

By the time the universe had been set to rights — or at least one small blue world, home to a race of sentient seahorses, that had been facing imminent extinction in the form of a rogue exoplanet — she had nearly forgotten her unsettling, vivid dream.

--

Given the recent events on Skaro, Clara was unsurprised when bits of her experiences there began to filter into her dreams. Truthfully, she had expected to dream of it more often than she did, but in the weeks that followed, more nights than not her sleeping mind instead conjured up the strange orange landscape. She revisited that screaming sandstorm so often it became almost comforting, and before long, other dreams joined it. 

Clara was leaned against a railing on a high balcony, overlooking a large city coming alight as dusk crept on, a rusty sunset that stretched the width of the horizon bathing the world in amber. The woman with the serious eyes and long, straight blonde hair stood beside her, in the middle of a conversation, as happened so frequently in dreams.

“Alright, but what about the last stage?” Clara asked, elbows resting next to hers on the railing. “That bit depends on us actively doing something, and you know we can’t rely on my knowledge. I can’t take any of the engineering or navigation with me, so it’ll be down to him.”

“And he loves a good puzzle,” the other woman said confidently, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a twitch of her head. “He’ll want to find us. He’ll figure it out.”

“Before I die of old age? Are you sure? My mother was one of his professors at the Academy, I’ve seen his test scores. I think we need a fail-safe.”

“He did graduate,” she pointed out reasonably.

“He passed his exams with a fifty-one percent on his second attempt! No, we can’t assume he’ll have all the baseline information to even consider such a solution, much less actually accomplish the maths. We have to find some way to hide it with me,” Clara said. “Or in his TARDIS.”

The woman was silent for a long moment, her mouth set in a thoughtful line. On the distant horizon, the sun had finished its slow descent, but below them the city was coming to life, the light not so much fading as changing sources, becoming ever so slightly more golden.

“By that point in the timeline,” the blonde woman said, speaking slowly, still thinking it through, “you’ll have been exposed to his timestream and to the crack in the universe, so some of your memories will probably start leaking through. If we structure the extraction the right way, we might be able to embed a particular thought or moment into your consciousness before you go into the Schism.”

“What’d you have in mind?” Clara asked, turning her head to look at her.

“This conversation?” she suggested, laughing, her broad smile transforming her face. “No, a phrase would be cleaner, I think.”

“‘Run the math, you idiot boy’?” Clara suggested, also giggling.

“Oh yes, that’d go over well! No, if you want him to do something, call him clever. Works every time!” she laughed, leaning her shoulder into Clara’s.

“The horrid thing is that I know the temporal physics for this is part of my mother’s coursework,” Clara groaned. “If he hadn’t slept through so many of her classes, this would be a non-issue!”

“Ah, but a Doctor who was always responsible? What a boring universe that would be!”

Above them, the stars were beginning to come out, though the glare of the city obscured them. Through the haze of the dream, Clara couldn’t find any constellations she recognised. “You don’t have to tell me,” she said. “I was the one who helped him steal that box in the first place.”

“And if he could take half a moment to remember that,” the blonde woman said seriously, “he might realise the role of his TARDIS in all of this, and start to think of the solution that way.”

“‘Run the math, you—”

“Clever.”

“—boy, and remember when you met me’?”

The other woman nodded, considering. “That could do it. Your chronodeterminate conjugation won’t work until you come into contact with at least a little regeneration energy. Assuming you choose regeneration on Trenzalore, it might start kicking in then, in plenty of time for the last stage.”

“Run the math, you clever boy, and remember when you met me,” Clara whispered up to the distant stars, cradling her chin on her arms against the railing.

The woman mimicked her position, the golden light of the city and the silver light of the stars catching in her long pale hair. “It’s just physics,” she murmured back. “Start from zero and run the math. I’ll be waiting at the other end of that equation. We’ll all be waiting.”

--

As unsettling as they were, at least the orange-tinged dreams were better than nightmares of Daleks, of being locked in the Dalek casing, unable to convince the Doctor that it was her, it was her, she wasn’t a Dalek, she wasn’t a Dalek! Dreams of the Doctor peering at her down an eyestock, this face or the last, or any of the others buried deep in her subconscious, hearing her but not knowing her, seeing her but not saving her.

Clara grasped for that orange sky, let it carry her away in bronze sandstorms, golden cities slowly coming to life, and starlight caught in tawny hair.

--

Monday morning third period found her Year 10 students taking an essay exam while Clara doodled on a scrap piece of paper, trying to pull images and phrases out of the orange haze that had taken up residence in her slumbering hours since Skaro. There were bits that tugged at her memory, like a song she couldn’t quite place but whose tune was intensely familiar.

She’d written Run the math, you clever boy, and remember when you met me across the top of the page, and her eyes strayed to it every few seconds. The phrase had stayed with her after she woke, and had been on the tip of her tongue ever since, as though it was a message she was meant to deliver. Below it she’d rewritten the phrase, but crossed out six words: Run the math, you clever boy, and remember when you met me.

It was too close for comfort to the phrase that had, in retrospect, changed her life, sent her on her current course. The Maitlands’ mnemonic for their wifi password, which she’d said out loud during that first phone conversation with the Doctor, had caught his attention somehow, and it wasn’t until she jumped into his timestream that she understood. It was the last thing she’d said to him before sacrificing herself to save him. Every fragment of her scattered through his timestream had said it to him at some point as well, the words reverberating endlessly up and down his timeline.

Why her dreams would dredge it up now, and in such a strange context, Clara had no idea. They didn’t feel like random images, but more like memory-dreams, like the bits of echo lives that filtered through to her sleeping mind from time to time. It had to mean something.

Half way down the scrap paper she’d written: It’s just physics. Start from zero and run the math. Below this was the very helpful ??? and Clara idly traced over the question marks again. Physics was still a foreign language to her, despite how much the Doctor prattled on about it at times. She could bring this to him, she mused, but what was it, really? Her subconscious doing backflips in the wake of Skaro, that was all. No grand mystery to solve, no universe-altering secret code, just her. She wouldn’t bother the Doctor with this quite yet.

Besides, she was certain she could tease this apart on her own, follow the clues to their logical conclusion without his assistance. The dreams were insistent, and felt familiar, but Clara was sure she’d never dreamed of the blonde woman and the orange sky prior to Skaro. That was the next clue, then, and she jotted it down on her scrap paper. Something had changed after Skaro, something that caused her subconscious mind to dredge up these particular buried memories. 

She needed more information. Dreams about her echo lives were always stronger when she was aboard the TARDIS travelling in the Vortex, sharper and easier to remember. Maybe these orange dreams would be, too. And maybe the TARDIS itself would have some answers for her.

--

Of course, she didn’t sleep aboard the TARDIS very often, with her insistence on returning home for a week of Real Life in between their Wednesday trips. But the Doctor was never adverse to her sticking around longer than she’d planned, and in the end it didn’t take much to convince him: 

“I’ve a staff meeting at work that I’m dreading,” Clara told him on that next Wednesday, when they returned to the TARDIS after their latest outing. “So what do you say I have a little kip and then we squeeze in another adventure before you take me back to face my workday?”

She thought for a moment that the Doctor might question the change in their routine, but he seemed thrilled about the idea. When he announced that he had some tinkering with the engines he’d been putting off that should keep him occupied while she slept, Clara made an excuse to linger in the console room — “just going to finish reading this chapter, then off to bed” — until after he’d gone. Once he’d disappeared down the corridor and around a corner, she quietly set aside her book, then slipped out of her armchair and down the stairs towards the console. The rotors hummed overhead, and somehow Clara knew the TARDIS was aware of her, and was curious to see what she would do.

Carefully clearing her thoughts, she made her way over to the telepathic circuits, pushed up her sleeves, and slid her hands into the strange interface. Focus was the key, she knew, and she was nothing if not focused. She closed her eyes and held two very specific thoughts in her mind: the sand-whipped orange sky in her dreams, and the clear question, Where, please?

She hoped the please would help.

It was a long quiet moment with the circuits warmly cradling Clara’s fingers, and then something on the console beeped. Her eyes flew open and she carefully extracted her hands from the telepathic interface before pulling the monitor down to eye level.

Gallifrey the screen read in English, below an image of a startlingly red-orange planet. Immediately prior to the Time Lock.

Clara felt her heart thud painfully against her ribs as she read the brief text again. She’d been dreaming of Gallifrey? She knew she’d had an echo life on Gallifrey, but she remembered that interaction with the Doctor, and it happened indoors. She had never before dreamt of the Gallifreyan sky. Had it been buried somewhere in her subconscious with the rest of her memories of that life? Why surface now?

More confused than ever, she clicked the screen back to the desktop, unreadable Circular Gallifreyan floating idly across the display. Perhaps she should bring this up with the Doctor — it was his home world, after all. But the whole point of this had been to dream while they were in the Vortex, and if she didn’t get a move on, he’d be ready for their next adventure before she’d even managed to fall asleep. She could talk with him about it later. 

And if things worked tonight as she hoped they would, maybe she would even have a bit more information to bring to him when she did.

--

“Fire suppressant in Pod Four!” 

The frantic call was quickly overwhelmed by the sound of the requested suppressant dispensing from the ceiling. When it ended, the speaker, dressed in the dark red uniform of a technician, brushed soot and foam off his shirt. 

“It hates me, that one,” he said, nodding at the unassuming gray cylinder in the open pod in front of him. It was devoid of features, even its doors invisible now in the wake of the fire, two meters tall and one meter in diameter, just like all the other patients in the workshop. But somehow it did seem to be glowering at him.

“And it always will, stop wasting your time,” his coworker said flippantly. He was perched in front of a console on the other side of the room, deep in his own repairs. “Just get the Impossible Girl to do it, she’ll have it eating out of her hand by lunchtime.”

Their conversation occurred in the time it took Clara to enter the large oblong workshop and make her way to the far end where the two were working. “I heard that,” she said seriously, earning a guilty-looking jump from the man who had spoken most recently. She continued over to Pod Four and leaned against the outer casing, arms folded over her uniformed chest, one booted ankle crossed over the other. “What did you do now?” she demanded of the first technician.

He looked at her with wide eyes, more out of genuine fear than mock innocence, in her estimation. “I just told it—”

“You what?” she snapped, in a tone she usually reserved for misbehaving students.

He wilted a little but started again “…I told it to—”

“Told it?”

“…to give me access to the logs,” he mumbled, dropping her gaze.

“Told it to give you access to the logs?” she asked, voice harsh. “Well first off, Number Four here prefers male pronouns, respecting that might put you on better footing. And secondly, as with all TARDISes, you’ll get a lot further if you ask rather than tell.”

Behind her, the other tech scoffed. “They’re machines, we shouldn’t have to baby them like that. An access request is an access request.”

Clara turned her head to pin him with an icy glare. “Some days I cannot believe I let you work here,” she told him bluntly. “They aren’t just machines, as you very well know. Yes, there’s hardware we need to be able to work with, but that’s nothing more than a radio, at some level — only instead of radio waves, we’re using oswin waves to talk to pan-dimensional beings so large, they can’t have a physical form in this dimension. Who, with a little extra energy, can take us and an infinite amount of folded space to nearly any point in spacetime. Just think about the massive intelligences that speak to us through each of those machines!

“But more to the point,” she said, turning back to the tech still covered in soot, “you have to understand their viewpoint of the universe, and their understanding of time. A Time Lord telling a TARDIS what to do is akin to creating a fixed point in spacetime. It’s in their nature to want to avoid fixed points. Ask instead, let him find his own way ‘round to it.”

Before the beleaguered technician could reply, there came a polite knocking from the far end of the room, and Clara turned to see a soldier standing in the doorway of the workshop, looking a little out of his depth. “Sorry to interrupt, but I have a message for—” he paused to glance down at the datapad in his hand, “for the Oswin. From the Lady President. Top priority.”

Clara was moving towards him before he’d finished speaking, curious and concerned, her attention focused on the message in his hands. But the dream faded out before she reached him, her mind moving on to something more abstract, more difficult to hold on to.

When she woke in her bed aboard the TARDIS, she stared at the ceiling with fond frustration. “If that was your attempt at help,” she whispered to the ship, “then I do not understand the message.”

--

It still wasn’t enough to bring to the Doctor, she decided later that day, watching him spin around the console room in the afterglow of a successful adventure, people saved, the universe bettered. So she was dreaming of Gallifrey, what of it? Many of the details in that last dream matched up with what she remembered of her interaction with the Doctor in that life. And while he occasionally enjoyed comparing memories of all the times her echoes had met him, she’d found he wasn’t especially keen on discussing the one in which she’d helped him steal the TARDIS and leave Gallifrey. Susan continued to be a point of pain for the Doctor, all these centuries later, and Clara understood him well enough to know better than to pick at that particular scab.

Still. That phrase was on a loop in her head: run the math, you clever boy, and remember when you met me. The emphasis on their meeting hadn’t been part of the original phrase, and now she was dreaming of the life in which they’d met face to face for the first time, from the Doctor’s perspective. Clearly they would have to discuss it at some point. 

Eventually, but not yet.

[votederpycausemufins]

Red: ch 9 Luka

this is cross posted on Ao3 (my username is causemufins)

Marinette and Luka go on a NOT date

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Luka had texted her yesterday asking if she wanted to go out. Marinette had explained her recent falling out of love and her recent horrible life. Luka agreed it wasn’t a date and hanging out could cheer her up, but she still thought it was basically a date.

    They were going back to the ice rink. Marinette had been going there a few times when she had the chance. It had gained a little in popularity after Frozer since people had seen Ladybug’s ice power-up. Not only was she starting to enjoy going there, Tikki assured her that it could help improve her fighting with that power-up. That was mainly for if she started panicking about doing something fun when she had other things to be doing.

    An alarm on Marinette’s phone went off and she fumbled a bit with it, nearly dropping it and stopping the alarm. That was her cue to head to the rink. “Come on Tikki!”

    The kwami flew into Marinette’s purse as she raced downstairs. By the time she reached the ice rink, she was a few minutes, so she raced the rest of the way inside before colliding with Luka. “Oh no! Luka! I’m sorry! Was I late enough that you were leaving? I didn’t mean to be late, In fact I thought it was only a few minutes but if I got the time wrong then-”

    Luka just laughed, causing Marinette to stop talking, confused. “My sister has mentioned that you tend to be late. I actually thought you would be later. I was just going outside so I would be there when you got here.”

    Marinette gave a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry, I just thought that you would be upset like Juleka.”

    “Why would my sister be upset?” Luka asked, confused.

    “Uh, it doesn’t matter right now. Let’s head inside and start skating.” She took Luka’s hand, helping him up and going to the main rink area. The two of them rented skates and were on the ice soon enough. Marinette was glad there were others there. There were two other couples, a group of friends, and one girl by herself.

    The girl caught Marinette’s interest when she tried some figure skating but fell to the ground, trying again with the same result. Luka noticed where the designer was looking and spoke up. “Why don’t we go help her?”

    The two teens skated over to the girl, who was trying to repin up her golden blond hair. “Hi, my name is Marinette and this is my friend Luka. Do you need help?”

    The girl looked up and took the hands that Marinette and Luka were offering to her. “Thank my. Um, my name is Samantha.” Marinette paused, the voice of the girl sounding familiar. “I recently moved here and when I found out there was an ice rink I came here, but I’m not the best and figure skating, which is all that seems to be done here…”

    “Oh, do you normally just skate around for fun?” Luka asked the girl, who shook her head.

    “No, I used to play ice hockey! Last year we won both divisions and the playoffs! I remember it was only my second ever game I scored a goal, and that was after I hadn’t played for a year and went straight into squirts and hadn’t played mites!”

    Marinette’s head was spinning. She had no idea what this girl was really talking about. “Um, where are you from?”

    “Oh, I just moved here from Canada. My dad got a job offer here. Well here and in Italy, But since we’re Canadian, of course we came here instead. I just miss hockey. But hey, still skating for me to do.”

    Marinette smiled. “You seem really nice. Almost too kind for hockey.” The designer knew at least enough from the olympics and one time she was researching sports for a paper last year.

    “Well yeah, I’m normally nice. But being in a game changes that up. You need to be more serious when there’s something on the line.”

    Marinette nodded. That was how it sort of was when she was Ladybug. “Right, Well, If you want, Luka and I can help you learn how to figure skate.”

    Samantha looked very happy. “That would be wonderful! And maybe later we can share numbers or something? I haven’t had too much luck at making friends and I’m nervous about starting school here.”

    Marinette and Luka agreed. Eventually, Samantha was tired out and said goodbye to the pair of friends. They continued to skate as the Canadian started leaving the rink, doing her best to hide and whisper to a golden kwami poking out of a pocket in her jacket.

~~~~~

    Marinette laughed as she slid across the ice, having fallen. Luka was laughing as well and helped her up. “So, what exactly has been going on?” He asked her.

    Marinette’s smile fell. “It’s a long story.”

    Luka: held her hand. “I’m here to listen. Your song has been off-key most of this outing, especially now. I know just talking won’t fix it, but it will be a start.”

    Marinette reluctantly agreed as Luka led her to skate around the rink. “It’s the class. A new girl showed up named Lila Rossi.”

    “I know of her. My sister has talked about that girl a number of times. Juleka mentioned all the great things Lila had done, which I did at first believe. Mainly because your class is already an amazing one. Chloé is the Mayor’s daughter and lives in a hotel many celebrities live in, Adrien is the most famous teen model in Paris and his dad owns one of the more famous fashion industries, Alya runs the Ladyblog and is one of the few reporters to get multiple interviews from Ladybug, Nino won the qualifiers on The Challenge and is an excellent DJ, And then you design for various people like Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. With how your class is I thought it wasn’t out of the ordinary.

    “But then one day I took Juleka over to an event Lila was at. I wanted to meet her new friend and did, but I didn’t like what I heard. Her music… it wasn’t there. She had no music and I was confused. After that, I looked her up and found nothing about her but her video on the ladyblog. There were also a few articles about people with similar names. But they weren’t about her. I realized she had no song because she was lying. Lying so much that she doesn’t have enough of a true self for a song to be made.”

    Marinette listened happily to Luka’s story, so glad that someone else knew of Lila’s lies. She had a few questions, but waited for Luka to finish first. Luka finished by cutting himself off, remembering that Marinette was the one who was supposed to be talking. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to talk so long.”

    “It’s fine Luka. I’m just glad you know she’s lying too.”

    That took Luka off guard. “You mean, no one else knows? I thought it would just be my sister and a few other people, and only because of her being new. But this sounds like…”

    “Yeah.” Marinette nodded sadly. “I think only three people in the class know. Adrien, he’s known since day one. Chloé, who knows enough celebrities, and Alya, who learned yesterday after she was told by Ladybug. Until then, basically everyone in the class was against me, and it didn’t help that every time I talk about how Lila is lying, she turns on the waterworks. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s my fault.”

    Luka stopped them from skating and put his hands on Marinette’s shoulders. “Mistakes can happen, but nothing like this. It’s not your fault. You’re just being gaslighted from all this emotional abuse. I’m going to be talking to my sister tonight. But first, it seems like it’s something more than just her lies. What is it?”

    “Adrien. I liked him… past tense. I said he knew Lila was lying, but anytime I tried to call Lila out for her various lies, he wanted to stop me from doing that. He said we were in this together. But while I suffered, he just stood by meanwhile I’ve nearly been akumatized a few times because of Lila. It’s gotten a bit better because Chloé has turned over a new leaf and is my friend now I guess.”

    Luka did his best to comfort Marinette. “I’ll be here for you. I won’t tell you what to do or not to do. I’ll just be here as a friend to support you.”

    Marinette hugged Luka and started crying. The musician carefully led her off the ice. Eventually Marinette calmed down and thanked Luka. “I h-had no idea h-how much I n-needed that.”

    “If you ever need a shoulder to cry on, just call me. I want to be there to help.”

    Marinette smiled and hugged Luka, an idea forming in her head. “I’m going to head home. All this skating and crying has left me tired.” Luka agreed and, after turning their skates in, led her back home.

[dragon-kazansky]

My Doctor: Thirteen x Reader -Part 1

Summary: Your life with the Doctor started a long time ago, now it’s all new and different, but she still has you.

Notes: This is a new series I’m working on, I would very much love feedback!

The day you met the Doctor was the best day of your life. He was a madman with a blue box of that could travel in time and space. An offer like that was hard to say no to, especially when your best friend, Rose Tyler, asked you to join them.

It was her that told you about the stars, and how you would never regret running away with them to see things you could never imagine.

That one single trip you took back then made a huge difference to your life, to the way you saw things once you returned to Earth.

The Doxtor offered to let you stay to travel with them, but the way Rose shifted in her spot made you welcome politely. You could tell by the way she looked at him that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and you decided you didn't want to get in the way.

Rose smiled at you when you declined and gave you a hug. You parted ways leaving these words behind: "Just don't forget me when you're up there amongst the stars."

She never forgot you.

The next time you saw Rose and the Doctor, he had a new face. Rose had explained what had happened and as a result he regenerated his body because of the damage. You tried to keep up with what she was saying, but it was rather hard understand everything.

The two hearts thing stood out the most.

Of course he was alien, no normal person had a time machine that could also travel in space.

When the Doctor was well again He and Rose set off for more adventures. Twice they came back to take you somewhere.

The offer to stay came back, but once again you declined. Rose was falling in love with this man and you refused to make things awkward for her.

In the end you just asked that they come back and take you for a trip sometime. They were both happy enough to do that for you.

However, the next time you saw them was one of the hardest things you had ever had to live through. The day Rose Tyler was lost to the world and sucked into a dimension you could never go to.

You weren't there when it happened, but the Doctor came to you after it was all over. The Cybermen and Daleks gone. You could see it on his eyes that something awful had happened and your heart broke.

He took you home.

You hugged him tight.

You forgave him.

He thanked you.

He left.

You only saw that face once more after that. The world was in danger and all the Doctor's friends were gathered to stop it.

Rose Tyler had found a way to come back to this dimension to help. To find the Doctor.

You would never be able to repeat all the events that happened during that time, but they were engraved in your memory for eternity.

The next time you saw the Doctor he had a new face. He was slightly younger than the one and had a childlike personality. He was fun.

The TARDIS has landed in your street and you instantly ran to it knowing that familiar noise. You smiled upon its arrival thinking you would never see the Doctor again. How wrong you were.

When the door opened a pretty ginger haired woman stepped out. She smiled upon greeting you and called for the Doctor to come out.

You were shocked when he stepped out into the street, but you welcomed his hug all the same.

Amy sat with the pair of you as you caught up with one another. She was interested in how you knew each other and why the Doctor was thrilled to see you.

"I missed you." He said smiling. His eyes bright and full of glee.

"Really? I don't really know you. You were my best friend's boyfriend." You chuckled.

"Well, yes, but you were my friend too." He grinned.

"It's good to see you though. I haven't seen you since... that day. Do you miss her?"

"All the time, but I go on with new friends." He gestured to Amy.

After some more catching up, you this time took his offer to stay and travelled with him and Amy. Rory joining the team afterwards.

You were there when River Song showed up. When the truth came out. When the Ponds were lost to you forever.

You stayed with Doctor.

He kept losing people and ending up on his own. It wasn't fair. You stayed with him in old Victorian London while he sulked.

It was during those days he became closer with you. You were his rock who brightened up his dark place. The one he could love while you were there beside him.

The one he married in his own TARDIS because you were all he had left. His heart was still filled with a shadow, but he found happiness within you.

Then there was Clara.

Oh how wonderful she was. How impossible she was.

She brought your Doctor back to how he once was and the adventures began all over again.

He would look at you with so much love on his eyes and he could honestly say he was the happiest man in the whole universe, traveling with his wife and new best friend.

Everything was going so well.

Then the worst thing he could think of happened right in front of him.

You were human. He knew it would come one day, but not like this. Not you.

You were dying. You risked your life to save his and he hated how you were so brave to do that, because it meant he would lose you. One of the few good things he still had left.

He begged.

He cried.

He held you and shouted.

He calls were heard. He couldn't explain how they did it, but it happened. The timelords. They granted his wish to save you, but your life would never be the same.

Using regeneration, they bestowed upon you a new life. Many lives. Your whole DNA was changing and the next 24 hours were the most painful hours you had ever gone through.

The Doctor and Clara never left your side.

"What's happening go her?" Clara asked several hours in.

"My people heard me. They... They gave her a gift. I hope she doesn't hate me for this. It was without her consent, with her being unconscious and all." He ran his hand through his hair.

"What did they give her?"

"Life. Life from a Timelord. She's basically becoming one of us and she must be in so much pain. Her whole body is changing and becoming... alien." He explained looking at the pained expression on your face.

"That's good though, isn't it? You'll have her by your side forever.

"Yes. They've never done that before. She'll be unique and new. Human and Timelord." He held your hand and gave it a squeeze. "My Timelord."

Clara smiled as the expression on his face and reached out to comfort him.

When you woke up you felt different and new.

Something was very different.

The Doctor was there when you called out to him and he hugged you the tightest he had ever done so before. He cried and apologised into your shoulder as he rocked you gently against him.

"Why are you sorry?"

He explained everything.

You forgave him.

He smiled.

You kissed him.

He fell even more in love with you.

It took some getting used to, but in no time at all you were back to how you always had been. You were still you, just alien.

Life got better.

Then the day came when the Doctor regenerated again. You begged him to do it so you would lose him.

The Timelords heard your calls this time and bestowed him with a whole new cycle of regenerations.

This face. It was older. Wiser.

He wasn't a childish man any more. More mature. More... grumpy.

You loved him so the same.

He loved you more than anyone in the world.

It took Clara a little bit of time to get used to him, but she stayed. He was still her Doctor.

This Doctor didn't like hugging as much, but he held your hand often and liked to have you close by. The pair of you often danced together around the console and you'd listen to him play his guitar. He got you matching sonic glasses so that you could look cool together.

You liked the man he became.

Then there was a loss.

Clara. Sweet precious Clara.

Her time had run out and she was taken from you both.

You relied on one another to recover from this loss, but it was hard. Life felt empty without her.

You were with the Doctor when he became a professor at a university. Helped him guard the vault.

That's where Bill came into the picture.

You liked Bill. She was funny.

She had her whole life ahead of her and she too was taken from you both.

The Doctor reached out to you because his hearts were suffering. He was losing people around him and he had to make sure you stayed sage by his side.

Life with the Doctor was never easy. Losing people became a part of life that you couldn't change and the unexpected happened often.

Things became very different.

Because of the Cybermen he had to regenerate again. He wanted to stop it. Stop the process, but he couldn't. You didn't want him to. He looked you in the eyes and felt his hearts beat for you.

He couldn't do that to you.

That's when it got weird. Not bad weird. Good weird. Just weird.

That face.

It was him. You could tell. Those eyes.

That and it happened in front of you.

It was just... a new face. A new new face.

"Y/N?"

Blonde hair. Brown eyes. Shorter... and female.

"Doctor?" You furrowed your gaze at her, but due to the shaking of the TARDIS, you didn't get to ask any questions.

The doors opened and out you both went.

That's a run down of your life with the Doctor.

It was about to get crazier.

[mimicofmodes]

Sanditon, episode 6 part i

Charlotte gets off the coach, well into the evening, and has no idea how to find the street she’s looking for. Everyone ignores her when she tries to ask. Yes, @charlotteheywood, your point about her intelligence is well taken! (I do like this pelisse. Have we seen it before? It’s not really accurate for a girl from a large, rural, not-well-to-do family to have this many different pieces of outerwear, but, well ...)

After walking past the docks (!!!), she ends up at the inn/tavern in Honey Lane where she’s been sending Otis letters - and the man who runs it says that nobody else lives there but him, giving no advice for tracking Otis down. Nobody seems to mistake her for a sex worker even though she’s out at night on her own, which no respectable woman would have been doing.

Inevitably, she gets attacked, and Sidney happens to be in the area and so fights the guy off. They’re both extremely astonished to see one another. In their cab, they get a chance to untangle one of the assumptions that have been hanging around: yes, Sidney was in the sugar trade, but he renounced it because he hates slavery. We still don’t get a good answer as to why he mistrusts Otis specifically, though, and while his point that Georgiana is a great prize for fortune-hunters is fair, it still seems clear to me that Otis loves her. Charlotte tells him that Otis is a member of the Sons of Africa, which gives them a lead to track down - he’s preaching at a meeting that night!

But Otis doesn’t even know that Georgiana’s left Sanditon - someone has been intercepting his mail. It turns out that he has gambling debts to a Mr. Beecroft, who could be behind this. We go to Mr. Beecroft’s and find that a Mr. Howard has agreed to pay Otis’s debts if Beecroft will help him abduct and marry Georgiana. Sidney and Otis blame each other, but Charlotte points out that a fight won’t do any good. Sidney thinks Howard and Georgiana will be headed up to Scotland, but Charlotte points out that Beecroft may still have her in London.

I suspect that this new turn of events is a response to the attempted abduction by Sir Edward in the 1975 continuation of Sanditon, but it’s probably also some more “realism”. Rich heiresses were valued for their property, abductions happened, rape happened, there were gambling dens and so on. (People like to act as though readers of Austen are unaware of the darker underside of Regency life ... which is silly, because it’s usually right there on the page.) But while there’s reasoning for it, I can’t help but call bad writing on this. We’re ending the third quarter of the story and they’re introducing new villains?

This villain in particular is your stereotypical “you’re my property now” type who compares what he’s going to do to Georgiana with breaking a horse, because of course he does. Nobody has really addressed the fact that he can’t literally force her to marry him, as she has the right of consent in an Anglican ceremony - the only reason an abduction means marriage is because of what it does to a woman’s reputation. But Sanditon has spent the last five episodes pretending that reputations aren’t fragile, so they can’t run with that.

She tells Howard that Otis won’t let him get away with this, and he tells her that Otis offered her up to pay his debts. She gives him a hard look at that, but doesn’t truly believe it, I think.

This mean-looking lady in a great bib-front dress takes Howard’s payment on Beecroft’s behalf, so I feel like we’re going to see more of her.

Lady Denham is for-real ill, and her potential heirs are all there to show that they care. She claims to only have a head cold and drinks some seawater. Edward tries to make up to her and asks if they can get her a solicitor, at which Clara and Esther both give him “are you a complete goddamn idiot?” looks. Anyway, Lady Denham says that the solicitor knows where her will is, and the young Denhams exchange looks.

Charlotte gets a bit of her own back by pointing out what a terrible guardian he’s been - leaving Georgiana to other minders and not caring about her happiness - and says he can’t bear the idea of two people being in love, which obviously stings at him. He is sorry that she thinks him “insensible of feeling,” although I can’t imagine why he’s surprised that she does. “How much easier my life would have been if I were.” Ah, I see, he was hurt by a woman and now it’s not his fault that he’s rude all the time. Okay.

Esther is really becoming disenchanted with Edward, as he hunts for the will and says he’ll force it to be changed if it doesn’t go their way.

Sidney tells Charlotte to wait in the car as he goes into this brothel. Oh my goodness, I am very shocked by the idea of sex in an Austen adaptation! The mean lady runs this place, and Sidney seems to be a regular customer, which honestly means that I have even less respect for his ire against Otis as a gambler. Charlotte points out that it’s gross that he knows this bawdy house and he just “that’s enough”s her despite it being a very valid point.

“Mr. Parker, what is this place?” Unfortunately, Sidney has never seen Doctor Who and is unaware that the companion never waits where you tell them to. She demands to know if mean lady knows where Georgiana is, and mean lady’s denial is very very fake. Sidney presses the issue and she admits that they’ve headed up to Scotland.

A thrilling carriage chase! You don’t get many of those. Sidney manages to leap from one to the other, which is impressive. Georgiana is rescued, and it makes you sort of wonder what the point of this whole thing was if it could be resolved so quickly.

Edward has been up all night searching Sanditon House for the will, but Clara finds it first. (Is Lady Denham already dead? She looks to be in mourning. What a dashing black pelisse.) The will leaves everything to the development of Sanditon “and the foundation of a donkey stud in my name”, lmao. Clara proposes to destroy it, but only if Edward will pay her out of the inheritance to keep quiet about the fact that they found the will. They settle on her getting 20%.

The party very quickly gets back to Sidney’s house in London. Is Sidney’s waistcoat made of black leather? It has a certain heavy shine to it that looks that way ... ridiculous. 

Anyway, Georgiana wants to know what will happen to Otis, and Sidney tells her to stop caring about him. More hints about Sidney’s tragic past. But at least when he goes to sit down with Tom - who came to raise interest in Sanditon’s regatta to make things right - he admits that the hasn’t done enough for Georgiana, so that’s good. He also offers Tom three thousand pounds for Sanditon and offers him moral support in his desire to patch things up with Mary.

Yeah, we saw this coming. Once the will is burnt, Clara and Edward do the do on the floor, over this giant dramatic mosaic of a snake.