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odayaka1 · 1 year ago

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Chapter 2: Reincarnation (2)

For the first time Tsukimi, the golden fox opened his eyes.

A pair of purplish silver predatory reptile eyes covered in a ring with 2 tomoe on it, calmness, power and wisdom deep in the eyes could be seen hidden deep within them.

He looked at the Rikudo sennin and said "Go away already old man and what grandson I am the oldest here, even though I just gained intelligence my existence is far older than you."

The old sage just smiled and shook his head, his figure blurred away and Kurama broke in tears. seriously scheming till the end, what's up with these old men and schemes.

'That old fool finally left' Tsukimi thought and turned to look at all the remaining others with wonder. 'looking at the future tailed beasts, especially Kyuubi no Youko in such a state is weird but they are also living beings, wait aren't they technically my kids.' he thought only to hurriedly shake his head as if trying to remove those thoughts 'no, no, no don't think about such pointless things, ugh I hate kids. Well let's calm them down.'

The golden fox reached out to pat Kurama and said " Don't cry like a human baby, don't want to worry the old man in his afterlife do we so calm down all of you" as his gaze moved through everyone present he continued

"take some rest, walk around a bit to calm yourself down or talk with me. We are going to be together for the rest of our lives so we have to be there for each other."

Everyone scattered away while Tsukimi was left alone. While he was alone his thoughts wandered 'I got some time to check the progress in the system. Yes I have a system which was given to me by myself. Confusing right, it is at first but once you learn about me it is not so much.'

[ Flashback ]

{ Tsukimi's P.O.V. }

This is not your typical reincarnation story. I didn't die young or die due to some heavy duty vehicle. I even lived the life of my dreams.

I died after living a happy life. I lived till my 80's and had all the money I earned enough for me to spend 2 lives without worry, how you ask. Well, why won't you, it's everyone's dream after all.

I got Into investing and got to know what money is, after earning enough I stopped myself from earning more actively. My passive income was still there.

I made my parents live a good life and they passed away happily. I was an only child but still I had true friends but there was something i could never find in my 80 years of living, that was true love. I was fairly handsome, not too much but still enough to get by.

There was never really a girl who could make me fall in love with her and once I had money, only the ones after it came to me.

I tried dating several women but they somehow managed to make me stay away from relationships even more.

When someone cares more about what you have or what you do more than what you are, you just feel tired of that thing.

So I died single and Virgin.

I am not the one to sleep with just any woman. If i wanted something like that why not pay for it, at least you know they are in for it because of the money.

I kissed my girlfriends but my every relationship ended unsuccessful as I never came to like their personality.

That doesn't mean I didn't enjoy my life, turns out life is more than just getting a woman to get married and have kids.

I went on many trips around not because of the MC but due to the world itself.

I liked the concept of chakra and the uses of seals.

I hate the old people in the anime for letting such small kids enter the war and use them as tools and the chain goes on.

What else can you expect from the people who always want to enjoy benefits while staying in the background.

The day I died my life changed for the best, I did not meet a random R.O.B. nor did I get thrown in another world.

I met a different version of myself in a mirror world like the dimension where I died. "Hey there me, wanna reincarnate with memories intact and some powers?"

Seriously, that's the best he or I could come up with. I just stared at him with a deadeye expression, he coughed and avoided eye contact.

His words just answered several questions though it's still hard to believe.

" You are a different version of myself, an alternate right? How the hell did you get the power to do that? Where do you want to reincarnate me?" I looked at him analyzing any form of deception or trickery as I don't believe every version of me is a good guy.

His lips formed an amused smile and replied, "It's always good to talk with the intelligent version of myself. I got my powers after my death, not as peacefully as yours, but I got what I have today due to it." He smiled with a little warmth at that and continued.

"I don't want anything to do with you. I am just offering an opportunity for you to earn good karma. I just had a daughter, so I am happy. And since I don't give freebies to just anyone I meet, I thought, why not give it to myself or a different version? You can even reincarnate in Naruto's world if you like. I know you love it."

Listening to him I was shocked and slightly happy for him but something bugged me so I asked straightforwardly " you have kids?"

He just gave me the same look I gave him a few moments back and said " really, that's what you ask first. Well considering us, it's very reasonable to ask that question but I came to love someone and we spend most of the years to be ready for one. I just did not feel repulsive to have a kid with her and we did and now I am happy" by the end of it a smile returned to his face.

I am happy that I could find happiness and love, even though he is a different me. 'No point thinking too much let's get to point and think what do I want.'

After some thinking I said " well congratulations man I am happy that at least you could find someone. For my wishes and the world itself, NARUTO'S it is I want to be ten tails, I will be the chakra left after separation of all the 9 beasts.

I want 2 Special Dojutsu like rinnegan and a rinne-sharingan on my forehead with powers to access a personal dimension, see some future, ability to see through lies, chakra cloak with susanoo like defense in my human form, my body should be of a fox, illusion affinity and counter ability even to the most powerful ones with one of my eyes.

I want someone to guide me to get powerful and never stop the power ups. That's about it I guess"

He just looked at me for a second and said "you chose ten tails for its immorality and huge chakra so you have to work for control and techniques.

All the abilities are doable. I will give a system like interface to guide you on the path but it will only show you the path as you have to take it yourself only then you can be truly strong.

As you will be remaining chakra of the juubi you have to wait for the chakra to reach its prime state which can also help you in the meantime to control chakra, as you grow your tails grow in number till ten then you won't grow any but your power will increase according to your efforts.

maybe in this world you can find your own happiness." He spoke the last line in a sincere tone.

Well I am happy that he didn't downplay any of my wishes.

I just thanked him and nodded at his logic of how things will be. After that we talked for a few mins and he sent me on my way and went back.

[ Flashback End ]

After I gained consciousness for the first time I received the memory of my time as a divine tree that was born. I came to learn how Kaguya was treated as nothing but a beautiful woman to concur by the humans.

I was an unconscious tree at that time but I could watch over the whole planet as I was connected to it. I was still strong enough to store and analyze memories in my brain automatically. I got the memory of Kaguya's escape and running away from her so-called husband who easily believes others words without hesitation just to have peace.

She was already pregnant at that time.

She lost all hope when she saw her husband who was now after her life and even killed her only friend Aino who tried to reason with them.

She used me and I answered her call and devoured every living being in the area.

Look how that turned out for her, well she also went and nourished me with her son's woman. she was kind of dull in that romance department, i mean she chose that dumbo to be her husband.

Though she lost her reasoning after consuming the fruit and the last remaining hope which were her sons, they also went against her.

That broke the poor girl down. She summoned me once again, and I went berserk. I started thrashing everything due to my premature awakening and being a mindless beast with no reasoning.

She used me to take back the chakra she provided them with my help.

She was sealed in the end, I was extracted and stripped of power and that's how all the tailed beasts and me came to be.

Remaining of the chakra and the consciousness of my being with a little bit of trickery from 'the other me' formed in the 10th and last tailed beast stored in magatama.

Now looking at the screen in front I can feel strange happiness staring at the screen like a kid got a new toy. I mean I literally held the dream of many in the palm of my hands.

[ STATUS | TECHNIQUES | ABILITIES | TRAINING

STATUS : NAME: TSUKIMI TAILS: 0 (IN THE MIDDLE OF FORMATION) AGE: 2000+ CHAKRA LEVEL: 1TAILS COMBAT POWER: SUPER KAGE LEVEL ABILITIES : TAILED BEAST BOMB – LVL 8 EMOTION SENSE – LVL MAX • HELPS IN SENSING THE EMOTIONS OF THE PERSON IN FRONT OF YOU OR THE ONE YOU FOCUS ON. NATURE SENSE – LVL MAX • HELPS IN SENSING NATURE ENERGY AND HAVE AFFINITY WITH IT REQUIRES BETTER CHAKRA CONTROL TO CONTROL THE NATURAL ENERGY. LIE DETECTION – LVL MAX • HELPS IN DETECTING ANY FALSEHOOD IN SPEAKER EVEN IF THEY ARE MASTER OF DECEPTION. CHAKRA CONTROL – LVL 8 • EFFICIENCY IN CONTROLLING CHAKRA NATURE EFFICIENCY – LVL MAX • ONCE YOU TRY USING NATURAL ENERGY YOU WILL EASILY SENSE IT. • HELPS IN CONTROLLING THE NATURAL ENERGY. • NATURE IS YOUR FRIEND ELEMENTAL AFFINITY – ALL • ALL THE ELEMENTS ARE YOURS TO CONTROL • CAN MIX DIFFERENT ELEMENTS TO FORM SOMETHING LIKE BLOODLINE LIMIT. ELEMENTAL RESISTANCE – LVL 6 • ELEMENTS ONLY PARTIALLY DEAL DAMAGE TO YOU • EASILY DEFLECT AND RESIST SOME OF THE ELEMENAL ATTACKS SELF SACRIFICE MODE • THE LAST RESORT • USE THE UPPER LIMIT OF YOUR CHAKRA AS A MEDIUM TO BURN IN RETURN OF TEMPORARY POWER CLOAK – MAX • AVAILABLE ONLY IN HUMAN FORM • STRONG AS PEAK SUSANOO • FORM OF YOURSELF IN BEAST FORM FUTURE SIGHT -MAX • ABILITY TO SEE THE FUTURE • ONCE EYERY YEAR CAN BE USED • ONLY FEW HOURS IN FUTURE CAN BE SEEN. • THE STRONGER YOU ARE THE MORE YOU SEE. • CAN'T BE STACKED. • FUTURE SHOWN CAN OR WILL BE CHANGED ACCORDING TO HOST'S ACTION.

]

#writing #fanfic #anime art #art #novels #naruto #naruto fanart #naruto uzumaki #naruto shippuden #naruto art #sasuke

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crossedsabers10s · 2 years ago

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Listen, listen, I need someone to tell me that starting another project would be a Bad Idea™️

Okay, on that note. I had an Idea! It’s taken over my brain!

What if dimension shenanigans with some old research of Kol’s that their poking around in/trying to use to defeat the next Big Bad and the Mystic Falls Gang of Supernatural Misfits—exact lineup yet to be determined, but definitely includes Stefan, Elena, Bonnie, Enzo, Jeremy, and Damon with Klaus and Elijah also there—ends up in a very sideways world where vampires aren’t a thing?? But like. Not a normal human!AU.

So. So. Like. They end up in Mikaelson Manor in Mystic Falls. Uh, Mystic Falls but three steps to the left and upside down, dimensionally speaking. And while they’re arguing about what the heck just happened, Klaus walks in. Except. Klaus is also standing right there arguing with his brother.

And that Klaus isn’t a hybrid. ‘Cause vampires don’t exist. But! He is a thousand year old alpha werewolf. Because all of his other siblings are ancient, super powerful witches/warlocks who are functionally immortal because their mother made them so. And he is too—despite the lack of personal magic—because they sort of shared their own immortal life force with him. Kind of like Freya’s sleeping beauty curse thing plus daggering but not really. They all take turns—by the decade—asleep and basically in a death like state and letting him ‘borrow’ their life force. Like. One decade Elijah is asleep and then it’s Kol and Rebekah and Finn and so on in a loop. And, they’ve got a handle on the werewolf curse, so he’s like. Basically hybrid like—can control his transformation and is super strong even without the full moon. Moon rings or a ritual they invented or whatever.

Anyways. Klaus takes in all these semi-familiar strangers and immediately blames Kol. It’s his workshop/ritual room they’d walked out of after all and Kol has no rational, sane limits when it comes to poking at interesting magic. At all. Ever. Him somehow breaking the dimensional barrier between worlds is par for course. So they get some basic information/threats/posturing out of the way. Then he tells them that Kol can probably reverse engineer whatever it was they messed with and send them back. But Kol is also in Norway or smth and will be out of contact while he is tracking down some rare magical being/creature. So itll take a few days to send them back. And! Until then, all these weird, semi-undead people can’t just… walk around the town or whatever while wearing the faces—some the wrong age—of some of the locals.

There’s also a cameo of an older-looking Rebekah, who resembles Esther slightly more than then teenage-appearing one. She’s complaining about Finn and Sage or smth.

Oh! And Finn is a necromancer, complete with like. A half rotted face from magical build up/side effects, Hel-style. Sage is—ok but. Like. I’m torn. I think Sage being Finn’s dead wife brought back at the cost of [the face thing, him being unable to use any other kind of magic or else she disappears, some other cost] would be cool but my heart says dragon. Some kind of dragon. She would make a fantastic dragon who had taken human-shape or was cursed into it and had taken a liking to the grumpy necromancer.

Kol is a Jack of all trades kind of magic user but specializes in arcane/esoteric rituals. Elijah is a more standard kind of witch, but is especially good at binding magics. Like. Deals.

So local!Klaus pawns them off to his friend/frenemy/drinking buddy, Stefan Salvatore. Who happens to have a mostly empty boarding house, isn’t it nice how things work out.

So they end up at the Boarding House. At some ungodly time in the morning, Stefan Salvatore—who is in his mid twenties, which is very odd for everyone who is used to eternally seventeen Stefan to see—opening the door. And he’s a witch too!! (Witch? Warlock? Idk he can use magic.)

And so the vampires need to be invited in lmao, after at least one of them does not account for this not being their boarding house and breaks their nose walking into the invisible threshold barrier.

And while everyone is getting settled—older Stefan getting a rundown on vampires—someone else walks in!!

It’s a teenage version of Enzo, back from like an early morning jog or smth. Because he’s a morning person for some reason.

Who takes one look at what’s going on and goes wtf. And he is very different from canon!Enzo. Younger—around 19–and with an attitude. I am firmly of the belief that teenage Enzo had anger issues. And it comes out that bby Enzo lives there and knows about magic and whatnot. Or at least has a very nonchalant reaction to the idea of dimension hopping semi/undead beings that are alternate versions of himself and people he knows.

And older!Stefan says something along the lines of ‘well, he followed my brother home and I haven’t managed to get rid of him yet’.

Which, of course is cue for other!Damon to stumble downstairs, yawning hard enough to crack something and wearing pajama bottoms. When he spots the crowd of people in his house staring at him—cause he’s A. shirtless and they can see scars on his skin, more than a few curled around his sides from his back and B. Is seventeen—he says ‘oh we have guests?’ Then spots older him, who is outwardly unbothered but deeply uncomfortable with everyone else seeing what he thinks of himself being weak/vulnerable because this is a version of Damon before he perfected being an asshole, though some of it is definitely ingrained.

Younger!Damon, who is like. Sleep deprived in the extreme goes back upstairs to change before coming back down and heading straight for the coffee. Which he doesn’t even manage to drink because his head basically hits the table before it’s cool enough to take a sip. Someone asks if he’s hungover—because he’s Damon and therefore that’s their first thought—but he says no? I was doing homework. And Caroline, who does have any sympathy for any Damon’s whatsoever says it’d be easier if he didn’t wait until the last minute to do it. And older Stefan—mildly, but in a way that makes it clear he doesn’t appreciate someone coming into his house and verbally jabbing at his younger brother—asks how much homework he did. And Damon says ‘all of it? duh. for the rest of the semester.’ (While this is going down, Enzo has stolen Damon’s coffee, dumped enough sugar in it to make a colony of ants die happy, and is drinking it while staring at his older self with the air of a person who is vaguely annoyed.)

Okay so. Background. AU!Stefan and Damon came from a long line of magic users. Like their father was super traditional and an absolute bastard about it too. Anyways, Stefan was the perfect older son who used strong traditional magic—and who also later had an Expression phase and gave up on using magic at all in effort to not give in to it again; to mirror his Ripper issues—and Damon was like okay at traditional magic but wasn’t the best at it. In this sense, traditional magic means like the ancestor stuff. The weight of a legacy. Yeah, no. Damon’s better at drawing from other sources, more elemental which is wilder and less structured with a reputation in the witch community for being destructive.

Annnnyways. Their father packs Damon off to a magic boarding school—no, not Hogwarts—except! It’s basically. Like. Off-brand Augustine. Instead of studying vampires, they’re studying magic. Taking magical children and training them all the while running tests. They were trying to make basically magic using witch hunters, to have a super strong police force under the schools thumb. It’s a horrible place where students regularly die or disappear during ‘training.’

And that’s how he meets Enzo! They were roommates. And Damon is considered unlucky, because all of Enzo’s roommates tend to die. Horribly. He’s also considered unlucky because Enzo—instead of being a run of the mill witch—is a siphon. He’s one of the schools favorite lab rats pupils, because he’s a rare find and he’s basically isolated and shunned by all the other students who are having a tough time surviving without the witch community’s worst nightmare stealing their magic from them.

Anyways after a boatload of trauma, Enzo and Damon end up semi codependent best friends with a magical bond. Literally. A magical bond. Something got tangled up from Enzo borrowing Damon’s magic too many times and now they basically share. Enzo doesn’t need to be touching him to access it, though that does help, and they both have an uncanny ability to know where the other is and don’t necessarily need to be looking at each other to know what the other is thinking.

Okay, so Stefan’s father told him that hed sent Damon off to school to help him learn blah blah family name blah whatever. This is around when Stefan discovers expression. And goes downhill from there. It takes him a long time—too long, he’ll think later, staring at the spellbooks he doesn’t use anymore but can’t bring himself to throw away just in case—to notice that something is definitely wrong with the letters he’s getting from his brother. He stops eventually, but by then has accidentally killed his father in a fit of rage when he finds out where his brother is and what’s being done to him.

Timeskip a bit and Stefan gets roped into Mikaelson Drama and after that gets them to help in investigate the School. What they find pisses them all off, because they’re old and strong and are considered magical royalty almost, when people aren’t terrified of them. And this is very much something they want to put an end too.

So the Calvary comes riding in, ready to rain destruction down and they find the School already on fire. Damon and Enzo having basically started a riot/jailbreak/revolution.

And that’s how Enzo came to live with the Salvatores. And why he’s an angry traumatized teenager with an aversion to touch and no compunctions about using violence. He was a street kid and then basically raised in/locked up in a dog eat dog world where if you weren’t on the top of the pile, you were one of the bodies being climbed over.

Enzo is also. Very. Scarily good at fire spells. Damon favors ice but is actually really good at inducing bad luck.

Stefan, when he used magic, was good at telekinesis and mind stuff. Like Silas.

(Not immediately relevant but—AU!Elena is a really old, really powerful psychic a la Amara and Silas, who is a spirit strong enough to sometimes walk the mortal plane. Bonnie is the same. Caroline is a—dryad? Nymph? Ancient and used to be worshipped as a goddess.)

Okay I’m done.

For now.

#tvd #fanfic #fic ideas #my stuff

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garrothromeave · 4 years ago

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mcd garroth + laurance headcanons for the sake of me posting something while working on my long-ass post, also happy birthday blaze ily,

garroth - total momma’s boy. seems obvious, but it’s true -- back in o’khasis, he was practically glued to the side of zianna. whenever she had to leave for a few days when he was younger, he’d cry if he couldn’t go with her. when he left for the guard academy, he wrote to zianna on a daily basis. to put it simply, he had separation anxiety. the hardest thing about faking his death was not being able to see or talk to his mother. - incredible piano player. his father made him take lessons when he was younger for quite a few years, but he was naturally very good at it. he never mentions this skill to anyone. while they were at malachi’s castle and were looking for materials before they left, garroth stumbled upon an old piano and played something. he got really into it, and laurance ended up stumbling on him playing. he made laurance swear to never tell anyone about it. - when garroth was around eight or nine, his stutter was so bad that garte didn’t let him speak in public or around any people other than the family out of shame. vylad and zianna used to help garroth with his stutter.

- garroth is very sensitive to the saying “oh my irene.” growing up in the ro’meave house, it was taboo to use irene’s name in vein. or anywhere in o’khasis, really. nowadays he’s still very caustious whenever he says it, because he thinks that someone is going to yell at him. - horrified of getting hurt. back during the days of training in the guard academy, while he was very good with technique and fighting itself, he had a very bad flinching problem. overall, for the longest time, wounds and pain made garroth very uncomfortable. because of this fear of getting hurt, he has a bit of a stubble because of the one time he hurt himself while shaving. - 6′4, because 6′11 is unbelievably tall and i honestly don’t even think that it’s canon? s’yeah. he seems 6′4 to me.

- garroth often sees new things and (internally) has this very child-like wonder response. he was sheltered for the entirety of his childhood and teenagehood. and after the guard academy, he stayed put in the same village for 5 years -- so he hasn’t experienced very much. he often wants to ask dozens of questions, but because of his shyness, he tends to just observe anything new very closely. which leads me to my next headcanon,

- because of o’khasis’ intolerance to many things, he was not very commonly exposed to magick’s users. the first magicks user that he directly met would be zoey, and he was very nervous when talking to her the first time he met her. when garroth gets to know her more, she catches on that he’s curious about a lot of things, and offers to tell him about things. he declines, and he regrets that decision to this day.

- as stated before, o’khasis isn’t very tolerable of things, which caused garroth to develop incredibly bad internalized homophobia. when aphmau comes along, he gets a very strong desire to protect her (little do we know, this strong desire comes from his connection with esmund) and confuses it for/tries to convince himself that it’s romantic love. it is in fact love, just platonic. so basically, this man’s gay as hell.

- garroth has more freckles than any other ro’meave family member. he’s mildly insecure about his freckles, seeing them as a ‘childish’ trait, which is why he wasn’t very bothered with the idea of hiding his face with his helmet.

- his hair is super curly. it used to be more tame, but as he got older, it got more curly. it’s usually a mess because he doesn’t know how to take care of it, but it somehow looks hot as hell. (no homo ofc.)

- garroth is allergic to blueberries.

- raven was garroth’s first genuine connection since he left o’khasis. zenix was his second. he loves raven a lot, and hates that he can’t see him as often as he’d like to.

- garroth is a total cat person. don’t get me wrong, he loves dogs, but if he were to choose between having one or the other, he’d choose to have a cat. he had a pet cat when he was little that he still thinks about a lot. (probably named sprinkles, just for the hell of it.)

- because of how he grew up, garroth’s actually a very picky eater. while he’d never admit it to himself or anyone else, he misses the more “rich-people” food he was spoiled with.

- garroth isn’t actually that stupid, when he first arrived at pheonix drop, he had a name in mind that he wanted to go by (to better hide his identity). however, when his name was asked by someone, he panicked and “garroth” accidently slipped. he beat himself up for the longest time after that. the only reason he finally let go is because no one had ever pointed out how/seemed suspicious he had the same name as the deceased first-born son of o’khasis.

laurance - his hair grows decently quick, so even after cadenza cut it for him, it only took about 4 months for it to grow back just past his shoulders. he prefers it having some length to it anyways, and usually ties is back into a ponytail. after the irene dimension, he would let nekoette braid his hair. - has a very lanky body type. naturally has long limbs, and would often get called a ‘stick’ when he was younger. he’s about 5′11. but don’t confuse his thinner stature for weakness, he matches garroth’s strength easily.

- bi icon. fuck that “you were my first kiss” bullshit he gives aphmau, the list exists and while it’s stupid and weird, according to it, garroth was his first kiss. which is fuckin funny as hell if you think about it.

- laurance is very good with animals. more so rodents and smaller creatures, like squirrels, birds, rabbits, etc. cadenza was convinced that laurance could talk to animals for the longest time. he even had this little mouse that would pop in his house. however, on the contrary, larger animals -- not so much. he’s shit with horses and cows, especially.

- incredible singer. has serenaded aphmau on multiple occasions, and has even gotten her to sing along with him from time to time. he sang for malachi to help him fall asleep every night since the day they met him. this caused him to start singing for levin at night as well. when laurance saw malachi again after the 15 year jump, within the first few days of his return, malachi asked for laurance to sing for him again just like he used to. which brings me to my next headacanon,

- laurance saw malachi as his own child, and treated him as such. they were very close, and malachi was the most heartbroken over laurance’s disappearance since he saw him very much as a father. it wasn’t that laurance favored malachi over levin that created this bond, it was the fact that laurance first-hand saw a child in need of a home and someone to love him, and it reminded him of when he was small.

- he’s a sucker for bets. gambles, wages, anything like that. while he’s not directly a gambler, if someone offers he’s sure to accept. he’s a risk-taker, and ends up getting really into it. this also branches into his competitive behavior. he’ll be really upset and possibly a bit petty if he loses. why else do you think he still hadn’t given castor the 5 dollars he owes him?

- slingshot master. you give this motherfucker a slingshot he can kill someone with his impeccable aim. he’s also very good with a bow and arrow or any sort of projectile, but he’s the best with a slingshot. when he was younger, he hand-made slingshots from materials that he’d find around the forest.

- speaking of the forest, laurance is a very nature-loving soul. when he moved to meteli when he was adopted, he’d often go and explore the forests nearby. he and cadenza would use their imaginations and play all sorts of games. laurance and her especially loved to climb trees, and would jump from branch to branch. this helped laurance become very flexible. this is also how he met sasha, she was sitting in his favorite tree one day and they just hit it off from there.

- after he was rescued from the nether, laurance frequently had nightmares that would lead into sleep paralysis episodes. the first time it happened garroth had been looking over him (since this was around the time when laurance first got back and garroth had allowed aphmau to go do her lord tasks while he watched over him) and when he had the ability to move and speak again, he started freaking out. garroth had to calm him down and assure laurance that he’d talk to zoey about what happened. garroth and zoey are the only ones that know of laurance’s sleep paralysis, mainly because he didn’t want to worry aphmau or anyone else. zoey often gave him ways to cope with it. it didn’t happen every night, but it did occur at least 5-6 times a month. his sleep paralysis stopped the moment he entered the nether for the second time.

- the first time laurance heard he’d made the list for the jury of nine, he felt honoured. when he was oblivious to how corrupt it was, he saw it as a huge opportunity. after learning about it’s true nature, he was still glad that he’d made the list -- because him being on the list prevented another person from risking being on the list and being chosen to be apart of the jury.

- yes, laurance can cook very will in this universe as well. it’s not that he was taught, it’s more that he can look at ingredients and just throw them together to make great combinations. zoey also taught him a few things.

- laurance does not know his real birthday. malachi does not remember his. since cadenza had “given” laurance a birthday, he offered to let malachi share his unofficial birthday with him. malachi accepted.

garroth + laurance

- laurance began referring to garroth as “pretty boy” after seeing his face. he continued to call him that for the first month of their friendship. garroth hated it, and that’s the only reason laurance eventually stopped.

- laurance and garroth are both very good story tellers, but after one incident where garroth was telling levin and malachi a story, he started stumbling a bit over his words and couldn’t articulate correctly, so laurance picked it up and continued it. from there, they took turns with the story and occasionally interrupted one another to add a detail or plot point, and after that, malachi refused to listen to garroth or laurance separately when telling stories, because their collective minds came up with the most fascinating shit.

- garroth isn’t the best at coming up with insults because he’s simply too nice, but laurance loves to make fun of garroth (in good fun, of course). however, there is one thing that garroth could hold over laurance; and that was their height difference. whenever laurance would mess with him, garroth would just bring up height to piss laurance off.

- when laurance regained his sight, him and garroth sparred very often. that’s when garroth realized how much strength laurance actually had, since he’d originally underestimated him. laurance, in all honesty, was equally surprised. their spars were pretty evenly matched.

- while these two are best friends, the amount of arguments they’ve had is insane. most of them were light-hearted and were more so disagreements, but sometimes things escalated and would result in yelling. that’s because laurance always took it a step too far. that, or garroth would try to disregard what they were talking about, which only made laurance more heated. but they’re both incredibly quick to forgive each other. once they had a really bad argument and didn’t talk for an entire hour afterwards, but once they saw each other again it was like they’d never fought.

- since garroth grew up with everything and laurance often had to hunt and shit, garroth wasn’t amazing at it. laurance found out, originally teased garroth, but gave him tips and took him out and taught him how to hunt. garroth’s still shit at it when he does it alone, but when he does it with laurance he’s pretty decent.

- garroth doesn’t drink. laurance does. laurance once tried to convince garroth to drink, but he refused -- which laurance respected, but garroth had to deal with drunk laurance for the rest of the night at the guard station. he learned things that he really wish he hadn’t that night.

---

i had more for garroth and laurance’s relationship, but uh, i don’t really have time to write them down, so take these for now! i hope y’all enjoy them as much as i did writing them :]

#minecraft diaries #garroth ro'meave #laurance zvhal #aphmau

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years ago

Text

continuation of this, because why not:

“Oh, this is fun,” Loki hadn’t realized just how irritating his voice could get until now, was this why the Soldier kept throwing knives at him?

“I am only dragging you along because our interests align for now, do not expect this to continue.” He snapped over his shoulder, keeping an eye out for any potential attack even as the alarms continued to blare. He was lucky his counterpart was in such poor shape; had he even had a fraction of his usual power available, this entire enterprise would be much, much more difficult.

As it was, Loki was faintly impressed his counterpart had accomplished as much as he had when he was running on fumes. When he wasn’t sneering at the sloppiness of his plans, anyway. Magical compulsion or no, what kind of idiot went and paraded about proclaiming their intentions for subjugation?

“Come now. Do you honestly expect me to believe this isn’t to your advantage? Unleashing double the chaos.”

It was a pity breaking the magical compulsion had done nothing for his counterpart’s mental state. On a number of levels— he was a stone’s throw away from madness, all jagged pieces aimed outwards and it was uncomfortable to look at for too long for reasons Loki preferred not to dwell upon.

Well. At least he could use it to his advantage.

Victor was not a happy camper.

First had been the discovery that, as he’d suspected, that damn gun had landed him in another universe.

Second, said universe was quite possibly his worst nightmare.

Because his country didn’t exist, hadn’t existed for decades now: the Latverian civil war in this world had decimated its people in more ways than could be named, neighboring countries had snapped up just about every scrap of territory his men had fought and died for and goddamn HYDRA was using war orphans for their experiments.

...had he been a bit hasty when he’d taken out the first base he’d encountered? Sure. Sorting out the logistics for taking care of all the victims he’d encountered was a major pain in the neck, and this accelerated his plans for establishing himself in ways he hadn’t entirely expected. Klaue was as annoying as ever, and, if possible, even more of an arrogant bastard to deal with in this strange world.

Did Victor regret it? Absolutely not.

Especially when it resulted in his encountering his first ally in this hellscape.

...though this ‘involuntary twin’ thing would get old fast, he just knew it.

“Hello, Winter.” Victor greeted with a smile. “Looks like you’ve been busy, too.”

The Winter Soldier could not believe that Justin’s stupid self-help books had been good for something, but here they were.

Him, and the poor bastard who shared his face and was now stuck in that incredibly awkward stage between ‘living weapon approximately three seconds from Murder’ and ‘going through deprogramming’, smack-dab in the middle of what had used to be a HYDRA stronghold but was now a bloodbath because somewhere in between fighting himself, and everyone else coming at them, the other Winter Soldier had started breaking through his programming.

He hadn’t realized just how much progress he’d made, until now.

“What do you want me to call you?” He asked again with a tired sigh.

“The Asset does not nee—”

“Oh, fuck no. Pick something else, you’re a human being, you have value.” ...goddamn it, he sounded just like Justin.

Ugh. Justin could never, ever know, he’d never let him live it down...okay, the worst part is that he would, not that the idiot with a death wish needed any encouraging when it came to this sort of thing.

The man’d had a knife to the neck, and still offered him food, offered him help. The Winter Soldier gave his counterpart a dubious glance, and fought back a shudder.

As much as he sympathized with the guy— he’d been there, literally— the idea gave him chills.

Though...he could almost see it, now. If he squinted, he could see the tiniest speck of self-determination that HYDRA had tried its best to crush into oblivion, the ghost of a hint of personality in the twitch of his right hand, the way his left hand curled.

“Right, okay.” He sighed. Again. He probably sounded like a goddamn teakettle, but fuck it, he was at the end of his rope here, dealing with people was Justin’s thing, he was much better at punching people. “If you’re anything like me, you’re going to have some serious migraines in the next few months, and no, aspirin doesn’t do shit. You have questions, means your personality’s coming back up which is good... oh, you’ll probably want to stick around for answers because I’m about as confused as you are.”

Because this is what happened the one (1) time he tried to be nice and check up on Justin’s friend group. He could’ve been chasing down that lead in Argentina, but no, he was stuck here instead.

Ugh.

Ivan was running on spite, caffeine, and not much else.

Living on the streets was a pain in the ass, exacerbated by the fact that he was apparently supposed to be dead and...buried? Cremated? He wasn’t entirely sure, none of the sources he’d found had been able to specify and to be completely honest, he hadn’t tried too hard to look.

Just seeing his own name in the articles had been disturbing enough, the realization that a version of him had apparently gone through with his suicidal plot was...something. Not great. His vodka stash back home was going to take a hit as soon as he got back.

As disturbing as reading his own death had been, it’d still been no match for what he’d been able to find on the man who’d given him another reason to live.

Because this world’s Justin Hammer was still alive and well, and locked up in an unspecified supermax for the foreseeable future, and...

An incompetent idiot with far more money than brains, apparently.

Which was so far from the man he knew it was hilarious, because Justin’s charisma had been enough to get a dictator of a sovereign nation wrapped around his finger without even trying, had the boogeyman of the intelligence world on speed-dial and an alien god as his bodyguard-slash-PA. He was untouchable on a number of levels, so when Ivan had first read that article?

He hadn’t believed it, at first.

Had been certain it was an imposter, and while he probably should’ve spent that time researching how to get back home, he’d instead ended up down a rabbit hole of what kind of man Justin Hammer was in this world.

Call it morbid curiosity, or whatever— but Ivan had to know.

It wasn’t like he was making much progress on his own, anyway, not when his resources were staggeringly limited.

And then.

A sleek car pulled up by the overpass where he’d been sleeping, and the window rolled down to reveal a face Ivan was inordinately glad to see.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.” Loki called, and Ivan didn’t even question why there were two of him. Or why his twin looked like a grad student during finals week.

“Mean Girls? Really?”

“He was correct in calling it a classic.” Loki replied with a haughty sniff as he pulled away from the curb. “Besides— from what I’ve seen, I also know more about this world’s culture than their Captain.”

His twin looked lost, as he stared between them both and whoops, that was probably a terrible first impression. “Is this one of your allies?”

“Yes.” Ivan said, even as Loki spoke.

“When he’s not blasting us all to other dimensions, certainly.”

“It was an accident!”

It was a good thing Loki had so much practice driving, because he would have gotten very nervous by the way their eyes met in the rearview mirror otherwise. “Oh, I know. I’ve told you—”

“There is no innovation without risk—” Ivan defended, only for Loki to snort.

“Have fun explaining that to Victor.”

Ivan froze for a moment, breath stilling in his throat. On a good day, Victor was the epitome of a type-A personality...

“He’s here too?”

“Oh, yes. Not sure where exactly, but how do you think we found you?”

“If you say magic—”

“Are all your allies mortals?” Loki’s twin asked with just the slightest hint of a sneer, and just like that all levity was gone and Ivan didn’t even need to meet Loki’s gaze to know his answer.

“If you have a problem with that, feel free to leave. Right now.”

“Come now—”

“Ivan here blasted us all across space and time, without tearing open any paradoxes or destroying any timelines, entirely by accident. Victor? Is the ruler of a sovereign nation feared and respected throughout the realm. I do not know your approach to such things here, but any insult to my allies is an insult to me.”

Ivan...probably shouldn’t have been too surprised to discover that Victor had not only amassed a following of rabidly loyal minions, but also managed to meet up with the Winter Soldier. Er... two Winter Soldiers.

Man, this was going to feature in his nightmares for months.

“Where’s Justin?” Was the very first thing Victor said upon seeing them, and he cringed as the rest traded looks because of course the one who’d introduced them to each other was the missing link now. Justin was hands-down everyone’s favorite, and if Ivan was stuck being the one to break it to them after having spent hours hacking just to get a name?

Man, this was not going to be pretty.

“First, you have to promise not to get mad.”

“What.”

Ivan told them.

...suffice it is to say, nobody was happy to hear the answer.

“Okay then.” Victor said, face impassive save for the way his eyes gleamed. “It’s been a while since I did a prison break, anyway.”

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#My writing #schrodinger's canon

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instasiswetrust · 3 years ago

Text

Rain patters against the window panes, filling the room with the cozy kind of silence that leaves you feeling lethargic no matter what time of the day it is. A thunderstorm had enveloped Hawkins like a shroud, refusing to budge despite the sunny morning that had greeted them.

Steve is all loose limbs, and comfortable warmth, cozy under the arms that wrap around his waist. He's got his head tucked under Billy's chin, ear pressed against his chest to listen to the steady beat of that heart. A heart that he almost thought he would never hear again after-

"Let's get out of this town. Drive out of the city, away from the crowds."

The words are spoken so quietly that if Steve didn't have his head on Billy's chest he doubts he would have been able to hear them. They are enough to make him lose his grim train of thought. Maybe for the better.

Wait, what?

It takes a moment for the words to register, a frown finding its way upon Steve's face. Propping himself up on his elbows he looks down at Billy with questioning eyes.

"Where would we even go?" Because he's not going to say no to an offer like that. Hawkins is too big at times, but other times it feels so small like he's suffocating just by existing among the borders of this town.

"Does it matter?" Billy's voice interrupts his thoughts, a gentle grin curling his lips. "We could just take one of the cars and drive out, see where the road takes us. Get out of Bumfuck, Indiana for a few days. Live a little."

"We live enough just by being in Hawkins."

"Fighting eldritch creatures from another dimension doesn't count."

"I don't know man, going toe to toe with a demodog makes me feel pretty alive."

Billy rolls his eyes but the way he tenses up, iron-clad defenses raising once again, makes it clear that he's serious about this. Steve doesn't give him time to take back his words though, leaning in to press a light kiss to the hollow of his throat.

After everything that happened with Neil, Billy almost dying and then moving in with him, Steve doesn’t have the heart to deny him this either.

"I will go with you. Wherever it is you want to go, even if it's to a shitty diner in Chicago three hours from here, then I will go with you."

He hopes Billy catches onto the real meaning of his words despite their playfulness. Because it's true, Steve would follow him back to California as long as that's what he wanted. As long as Billy asked him.

But he hadn't. And there was only a week left before Billy went back to California.

By now Steve had resigned himself and accepted the truth. That this thing they were doing, this sort of relationship they had stumbled upon, was bound to end just as summer did. The only thing he wished for, the single thing he would ever ask of Billy, was to at least remember him.

“But for real, is there somewhere you want to go?” He asked, hoping to push the depressing thoughts of his love life to the back of his mind for now. If he wanted to have a crisis about how everyone he had ever loved always left him, he could do that once Billy left for UCLA.

“I know your music taste is all pop bullshit but you have heard of Summerfest, right?”

“The music festival in Milwaukee? It’s been advertised on the radio for a while now. Something about Bryan Adams being there, I think.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Did Billy sound nervous? Why? “You want to go?”

Steve blinked in confusion, sitting up a bit so he was straddling Billy’s lap and could face him. “I mean, it would be cool but the tickets sold out weeks ago.”

“Got in contact with some old friends from Cali. Managed to snatch a couple of tickets.” Billy shrugged, smirking up at Steve despite the slight hint of nervousness. “Wanna take that drive now, Princess?”

---

A day later they had everything ready.

The Camaro's trunk was packed with two duffel bags with enough spare clothes for a week, snacks, bottles of water, and a first aid kit Joyce had forced into their hands before leaving. Steve hoped they wouldn't need to use it, though.

It was Jonathan's gift that had made him tear up a little. He had fixed his old Polaroid camera and offered it to Steve with a decent amount of film already inside it. Something told him that it might've been Nancy's idea but either way he was glad.

He didn’t know he needed a physical way to remember this week but was glad to have it.

Billy doesn't comment on it once they are back in the car but he does raise his eyebrows in a silent question. Steve just shrugs, not feeling like untangling the complicated knot of emotions lodged somewhere inside his chest.

---

It's still light outside when they make their first stop.

There's no finesse in the way they scramble into the backseat of the Camaro, nothing delicate about the way Billy tugs him into his lap, just desire and barely contained desperation. Then they are kissing again, wet and messy and perfect.

They are parked in the middle of some woods somewhere on the way to Chicago. Steve's not sure exactly where anymore, having forgone the map maybe half an hour after they left Hawkins. It's not like it matters. It's not like anything matters other than the heat of Billy's skin on his. His kisses, the bruises he litters on pale skin, and the way he can't seem to stop touching Steve like he will disappear if Billy so much as blinks.

And Steve understands. He really does. Because once summer ends and Billy has to leave Hawkins for UCLA, there will be no more moments like these. No more nights of having the blond next to him in bed when he goes to sleep. No more shared meals on the couch while going through his parent's VHS collection.

There will be no more them.

So instead of focusing on the unbearable ache the thought alone creates in his chest, Steve chooses to focus his attention on pushing Billy down against the leather seat and moving back so he can work on getting those tight jeans low enough for him to bring Billy's cock to his lips.

"Fuck! Baby, that feels so-" Familiar fingers bury themselves into his hair, pulling on the strands and making him moan. He relaxes his jaw then, looking up at Billy who seems to have caught on to his intentions if the smirk on his lips is anything to go by.

"You want me to fuck your mouth, baby? Make you choke on my cock?"

"Pwhease." Talking with his mouth as full as it is isn't easy but he's rewarded by the look on Billy's face. His eyes darken, his lips part and the grip on Steve's hair tightens. It’s enough to send heat pooling low in Steve’s abdomen, a muffled whine escaping his lips.

Billy starts up with slow, barely contained thrusts, his eyes never straying away from the sight between his legs. He knows how much Steve likes

Considering how keyed up they already were, it’s no surprise when Billy only lasts a few minutes before he's coming hot and heavy down Steve’s throat. He swallows everything, choking a little on the cock still inside his mouth. He only pulls away when the grip on his hair finally grows lax.

Steve barely gets enough time to catch his breath before Billy is surging up and dragging him into a messy kiss, licking into his mouth and chasing the taste of himself on those lips. It should be gross. Hell, it is gross. But somehow it's also one of the hottest things Steve's ever experienced and he can't help but moan into the kiss.

His breath hitches turning into a whine when he feels Billy's spit-slick hand inside his briefs, wrapping around his cock. He's already so sensitive that there's not a single ounce of shame in him as he ruts into the touch, needy sounds falling like raindrops from parted lips.

"Billy, Billy, please- Fuck, I want-"

"Jesus, you look so pretty like this. So needy. Gonna come for me already, baby?"

“Uh-huh”

“Ask me pretty, baby, c’mon.”

"Let me come, please Billy." Steve whimpers softly, arms coming up to wrap themselves around tanned shoulders. He's shaking from the pleasure, muscles tense and every nerve alight. So damn close, already.

It's then that Billy starts to jack him off in earnest, thumb pressing against that sensitive spot just under the head with each upward stroke, his mouth otherwise occupied with suckling at the freckles that litter the skin of Steve’s neck and shoulder.

“Billy I-” Steve’s eyes roll back and his teeth clamp down on his bottom lip in a futile attempt to muffle the loud moan that slips out from his chest. It’s only when he bats Billy’s hand away from his cock that he finally starts to feel like he can catch his breath again.

#WIPs #roadtrip au #stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #lemons #???#is that how we're tagging these now??

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pi-cat000 · 4 years ago

Text

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (4)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters: Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START / PREV / NEXT

Doctor Wada makes an unscheduled appearance the same morning. Kakashi has the doctor’s schedule memorised and knows the man usually spends his first work hour in his office before checking in with various patients. The change is not unexpected.

“Ms Iori finished her rounds, marked everything as normal and handed the ward off without incident.” Wada and one of the floor’s morning shift nurses talk, voices lowered, too quiet for a regular person to pick up.

“It was called in around 4:15 am. We confirmed it as a burst blood vessel behind his quirked-eye, but we don’t know what triggered it. Without examining the eye itself it is hard to draw any definite conclusions. Since we don’t know what his quirk does, we didn’t want to risk staff safety without a specialist on hand.”

“Nothing else? No other symptoms?” Wada asks.

“No external bleeding. No signs of irritation around the eye socket. Clear, coherent verbal responses from the patient. Vitals are stable. The dressings on the eye were changed yesterday, and nothing was flagged then either.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Depressed at the thought of what amounted to a forced long-term infiltration mission, Kakashi’s attention drifts away from the hushed conversation. Kakashi has never been assigned to any extended infiltrations. Long, tedious things that they were. Jōnin were usually too valuable to waste on them. Even before he had made jōnin, his skillset lent itself to tracking, assassination, ambush and one on one combat not undercover assignments. It was just his luck -or maybe it was karma-that he had been shunted into one. Three years of ‘mingling’ amongst these soft-acting civilians, waiting to build enough chakra for an attempt at a technique he wasn’t even sure would work. It was enough to make even the most battle-hardened shinobi depressed.

Maybe he should run off and hide somewhere. He would skulk around for three years avoiding the locals. Less of a hassle that way. Kakashi lets out a weary breath.

“See if you can bump up that MRI. We need to make sure this isn’t anything serious,” Wada’s voice breaks through his musing as the doctor starts in the direction of Kakashi’s bed. The nurse he is talking with nods and leaves.

“Well, you have certainly had an eventful night,” Wada greats when he draws near, leaning in to visually scan Kakashi, “Let’s see what we have going on. Can you close your left eye for me so I can unwrap it?”

He habitually pushes down his natural discomfort at having a stranger close to his sharingan as the doctor reaches to tilt Kakashi’s head to the side for better access. If he was going to be stuck here then he should maintain his complacent, harmless persona. At least, until he leaves the hospital. Besides, if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done it while he was unconscious.

“No swelling around your quirked-eye and the bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign. We’ll run a few tests and get to bottom of this, not to worry.”

“Yeah. About that,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head to look sheepish and apologetic, “I might have tested out my, eh, quirk. You know…I wanted to see what it would do…”

There is a beat of silence, the older man drawing away, too surprised to respond.

“I think it lets me memorise things it sees?” Kakashi continues. Even if he wasn’t 100% sure about what he would do next, he is not about to abandon his shaky amnesia cover story.

“Of all the reckless, irresponsible decisions!” the doctor snaps out of his surprise moving straight into anger, “I expressly told you to wait and not to mess with it. You had no idea what sort of quirk it was! What if you had injured someone or yourself.” The concern seems pretty genuine and Kakashi almost feels bad for manipulating him.

“Young people these days…honestly. No patience.”

Young? It had been a while since anyone has called him that. Kakashi is practically ancient by shinobi standards. The response prompts a semi mournful, almost amused sigh from him, “I know, I know. I just wanted some sort of clue as to how I got here.”

The doctor takes a frustrated breath, calming “Yes. I know it’s frustrating, being restless and hold up in this bed for three straight weeks, but there is a procedure to these things. You got lucky that the only side effect was a burst blood vessel. Next time you want to test your quirk we’ll make sure it is in a controlled environment with an expert on hand. I don’t care if you have some sort of passive regeneration, quirks can be dangerous. The hospital has offsite testing facilities for a reason.”

“Yes. I understand. I won’t do it again,” he says dutifully and gets a huff of disbelief and a head shake.

“You better not.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So?” Kakashi raises a brow.

“So what did you discover? Explain it to me again.” Wada motions, impatient, repositioning a nearby chair so he can sit comfortably beside the bed.

“It lets me remember things…” Kakashi had given a lot of thought to what he wanted his fake ‘quirk’ to do without giving too much away, “I’m pretty sure I remember anything it looks at perfectly.”

A somewhat true explanation, in that recoding information and prefect recall was one facet of the sharingan; a side effect of its primary function which was to copy ninjustu and taijustu. The explanation also played into the diagnosis Wada had already written into his medical files, making it more believable.

“Then, lucky for you, something good came of your reckless behaviour.”

Kakashi just smiles which elicits the beginnings of another lecture. “Not that you should ever take quirk safety lightly. Quirk licenses exist for a reason. People can’t go about throwing their quirks around willynilly. A licence, I might add, that you don’t have.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

After witnessing several televised reports on police arresting people for quirk misuse Kakashi knows the people here, for whatever reason, are leery when it comes to using their abilities. To the point where they actively outlaw it. He is banking on Wada being sympathetic enough not to push the matter.

Wada sighs again, “I’ll write it up as accidental use this time. Now. If your quirk lets you remember everything perfectly then what about your past memories. Any change on that front?”

“No. Still gone.”

“I see. That might mean the part of the brain linked to its memorisation function was damaged, disrupting the memories stored by the quirk,” Wada rubs his chin thoughtfully, “We’ll have to run a few more tests…a lot easier now that we know what it does I suppose.” Good. That was the conclusion he wanted Wada to come to.

“Alright, before we get to testing, were there any other side effects. Aches, pains, fatigue?”

Even as the man asks, he is pulling out a familiar penlight to shine in Kakashi’s regular eye.

“No. Nothing.”

What follows is his standard check-up routine. His vitals are recorded, his head checked over, the area around his sharingan examined thoroughly. Again. Well, as thoroughly as it could be examined without uncovering it. Next is an inspection of the chest wound he now knows is from Obito alongside a glance over his shoulder, arm and leg. Wada nods to himself as he goes, signalling that all is well.

“Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much last night what with how you were messing around with your quirk. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Wada instructs as he fits Kakashi with a padded eyepatch instead of the usual wrap of bandages. He pauses to wait for a nod of confirmation.

“I will,” he blatantly lies. Kakashi hasn’t had a proper night sleep since waking up the first time, dozing for shortened intervals only. With so many squishy doctors around he doesn’t want to accidently hurt one of them should he be woken from a nightmare. It did put additional strain on his body.

Doctor Wada peers at him, “We’ll give you another week of monitoring then get some authorised quirk testing done. A brain scan as well. Depending on what we find, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a diagnosis and then discharged.”

“Hmm,” he answers, noncommittally. Not like he has anywhere else to go until then. If this were Konoha, he would have taken off long before now and seen to his remaining injuries alone. This would be the first time in a long while that he is waiting for an official discharge.

Guess he would be finding out how the hospital dealt with amnesiac patients after they healed. In Konoha, a displaced citizen would be given a menial labour job as part of the village’s many reconstruction projects and sent on their way. But this wasn’t Konoha and he should really stop with the comparisons.

He needs to decide what he wants to do: Take off, find somewhere secluded and wait the years out. Or hang around to try and salvage the situation. This world did have a lot of interesting technology so there might be value in getting a better feel for the society here. Maybe he would find something useful to take back as an apology for abandoning everyone…

What a mess this all was.

...

The following week has Kakashi splitting his time between gathering supplies for a chakra storage seal and reading through Wada’s patient files to get a sense for his upcoming quirk tests and ‘brain-scan.’

He also takes the time to read through everything else Wada has in his office - mainly medical journals - to better understand the biological differences inherent in a place without chakra. Primarily, the people were physically weaker. However, there were a lot of mutations or ‘secondary quirk factors’ which reinforced the body to better deal with the stress of the primary quirk. All interesting and potentially relevant information to remember when he got into fights. Once he knew a person’s quirk he would be able to guess how their body was reinforced and act accordingly. A fire quirk would make someone naturally heat resistant but not impact resistant, is what Kakashi concludes as he re-reads the profile of current number two hero ‘Endeavour.’ The magazines gifted to him by Iori all contain a statistical breakdown of the top 10 heroes, their strengths, weaknesses, and their criminal apprehension and crime prevention rates. It is a list that rarely changes between issues. He commits it all to memory, idly planning out combat strategies that didn’t involve obvious ninjutsu or chakra use. It helps pass the time when he is not trying to make sense of what he sees on television or stalking various people around the hospital.

At the end of the week, he steals Wada’s fountain pen, adding it to his growing pen hoard which he stashes in a vent on the roof. The storage seal he wants to make is complex and would need ink to complete. A mix between a chakra-draining-seal-trap and a storage scroll, it is well on its way to completion.

The seal would drain his chakra at a consistent and manageable rate, store it efficiently, and give him a way to turn the chakra drain off and on at will. Also, as a precaution, he includes an emergency stop in case his chakra levels became dangerously low, so it didn’t accidentally kill him if he fell unconscious.

The seal would need to be positioned somewhere on his body in a spot where the doctors wouldn’t immediately notice. He doesn’t what to explain why he suddenly has a tattoo. If he had had access to properly made fūinjutsu ink, the seal would be invisible. Alas, he would have to make do with chakra-infused pen ink.

Kakashi manages to keep himself busy enough that he expertly avoids making any concrete decision on what he wants to do with the next three years.

Note: this is slowly turning into a medical drama

#bnha #naruto #CrossOver #my hero academia #hatake kakashi #kakashi headcanons #dimension travel AU #fanfiction #world building #culture shock

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grailfinders · 4 years ago

Text

Fate and Phantasms #169

Two builds in one day? That’s right! Today’s my birthday, and that means I get to pick the servants! As a birthday gift to myself, we’re making Caster of the Nightless City! As usual, expect spoilers in the build breakdown below the cut and in their character sheet here!

Scheherazade is a Creation Bard to truly bring her stories to life, and a Genie Warlock to create her own Bedchamber of Survival.

Race and Background

Wildly, Scheherazade is a Human, giving her +1 to all abilities. She’s also a Guild Artisan with one of the most demanding patrons in the world, giving her proficiency with Insight and Persuasion.

Ability Scores

Your Charisma better be as high as possible, you’re literally famous for your storytelling skills. After that is Wisdom. Anyone can read a story, but to tell a story you’ve got to be able to read the audience. Your Intelligence is also pretty good, because let’s be honest, remembering over 1,000 stories is pretty goddamn impressive. Your Dexterity isn’t awful, because we need to be able to go from standing to dogeza in seconds. This means your Constitution and Strength are rather low. Sadly, telling stories doesn’t make you all that battle hardened.

Class Levels

1. Bard 1: Being a bard gives you proficiency with Dexterity and Charisma saves to avoid fireballs and being banished to other dimensions. (Though I guess banishment is better than death?) You also get proficiency in three bard skills, that is to say, three of any skill. Performance for storytelling, Acrobatics for faster dogezas, and History for more story material.

You can use Bardic Inspiration to give a d6 to an ally Charisma Mod times per long rest, and these dice can be added to pretty much any d20 roll to make it a bit better. (Not yours though, heaven forbid you have to get out there and... attack things.)

Speaking of not attacking things, let’s talk Spells. You cast em with Charisma, and get stuff like Blade Ward for taking less damage and Friends for convincing people to let you live in the first place. You also get Charm Person for a similar reason, Bane to weaken their offense if they still want to try anything, Feather Fall to avoid death by heights, and Silent Image for the first of your storied illusions.

2. Bard 2: Second level bards become Jacks of All Trades, adding half their proficiency to ability checks they’re not proficient in. By becoming more useful, you’re less likely to get killed! Probably. You also get a Song of Rest to boost healing during short rests. Healing is good, healing helps people not die. Finally, your Magical Inspiration lets allies add your inspiration dice to damage or healing caused by spells. Again, healing is good, and I guess doing more damage can be nice sometimes.

Speaking of doing damage, we’re not doing that. Instead, grab Sleep for a bedtime story.

3. Bard 3: Graduating from the college of Creation will help you bring your stories to life thanks to your Performance of Creation. As an action you can create a nonmagical object once per long rest or by spending a 2nd level spell slot. The item must be medium or smaller, and can only be worth at most 20 times your bard level in GP.

You can also help your allies star in legends of their own with Stories of Potential that add extra effects to your bardic inspiration depending on how they’re used. Ability checks get advantage on rolling the inspiration, attack rolls deal thunder damage to nearby creatures if they fail a constitution save, and saving throws add temporary HP to their users.

You can also cast Calm Emotions to keep the king from beheading you in the morning.

4. Warlock 1: Now that that’s taken care of, let’s get some help from a Genie. Picking this patron gives you a Genie’s Vessel, a tiny object like, say, a scroll case, within which you can find a Bottled Respite that you can hang out in for up to 2x your proficiency bonus hours per long rest, but you can only enter once per long rest. Any items you leave behind stay in the respite until the vessel is destroyed or you take them out again. Also, I gotta remember to point out the inside is bigger than the outside, space isn’t an issue for you.

You also learn to imbue your attacks with a Genie’s Wrath, adding thunder damage equal to your proficiency bonus to one attack per turn. You don’t really attack that much, but it’s nice to make every bit count.

Speaking of attacking, you can actually do that with your new Spells! You still use Charisma, but you have Pact Magic, so these slots don’t mix with your old ones. The plus side is they recharge on short rests instead of long ones, and you can still cast bard spells with warlock slots and vice versa.

You get Minor Illusion for cheap lifelike stories, as well as Eldritch Blast for the ever-present caster balls. For first level spells, you get Detect Evil and Good and Thunderwave for free, as well as Comprehend Languages because copyright doesn’t exist in D&D, and Protection from Evil and Good. Some kings are evil, some are good, but very few are neutral. (WARNING: does not actually protect against good or evil aligned humanoids)

5. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, ways to customize the selling your soul experience. Armor of Shaodws gives you free mage armor to avoid dying, and Eldritch Mind makes it easier to concentrate on your spells, which are keeping you from getting killed.

Speaking of spells, Sense Emotion lets you read the prevailing emotion of a nearby creature as an action, and you can repeat the action each turn. Good storytelling requires you know what your audience wants.

6. Warlock 3: Third level warlocks get a Pact Boon, and Pact of the Tome gives you a super cool magic scroll that gives you three cantrips from any spell list. You get Guidance and Resistance for added protection, and Mage Hand. Handling hot objects can be dangerous! Now you don’t have to do that.

Besides that, you get second level spells here, like Enthrall. Being the center of attention is dangerous, but you’re the most personable member of the party, so this might be less dangerous than letting them talk. You also get Phantasmal Force and Gust of Wind for free, letting you attack with fictional characters and just make things a bit more dramatic.

7. Warlock 4: At fourth level you finally get your first Ability Score Improvement, which will be used to round up your Dexterity and Constitution for a higher AC and higher HP. Not dying’s good, you should try it out.

You also get Prestidigitation to add minor effects to your stories, and Flock of Familiars to summon background characters.

8. Warlock 5: Fifth level warlocks get third level spells, like Major Image to make larger effects for your stories. You also get Create Food and Water and Wind Wall for free.

On top of that, the invocation One with Shadows lets you turn invisible as an action in dim light or darker, and lasts until you move or take an action. When a truly good storyteller gets going, the story takes on a life of its own, and they just sort of... fade into the background.

9. Warlock 6: Sixth level genilocks get an Elemental Gift, giving you resistance to thunder damage. Like Cursed Arm always says, you can’t travel the desert without protection from wind. As a bonus action, you can now fly for 10 minutes Proficiency times per long rest. Admittedly you don’t really do that too often, but I’m sure you can illusion up a big genie hand or something to lift you up.

You can also summon a main character now thanks to Summon Fey. You can create a small fey creature in one of three moods that can teleport around and fight for you. Fuming fey get advantage on attacks after teleporting, mirthful fey can charm creatures, and tricksy fey create magical darkness which you can use to turn invisible.

10. Warlock 7: Congrats on your fourth level spell slots! Your freebie spells are Phantasmal Killer and Greater Invisibility to put less focus on yourself and more focus on the terrifying monsters you can summon. You can also use Hallucinatory Terrain to reshape the world into the world of your story. You can also use Trickster’s Escape once per long rest to cast Freedom of Movement on yourself to get the hell out of dangerous situations.

11. Warlock 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for better spells and better stories. You also learn how to Charm Monsters to avoid even more danger by just... getting along with everything.

12. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, like the freebies Creation to make even more nonsense out of nothing and Seeming to again, avoid danger. On top of those, you can use Modify Memory to retcon your stories to prevent your audience from getting too upset. You also gain the Gift of the Protectors, allowing you or another creature to write its name on part of your scroll. The scroll can hold the names of Proficiency people, and once per long rest the first creature to drop to 0 hp sticks around at 1 hp instead. You can also erase names if you have a falling out, but since it’s first come first served you might just want to keep this to yourself.

13. Warlock 10: Tenth level genielocks get a Sanctuary Vessel, allowing you to take up to 5 willing creatures into your Genie’s Vessel with you. You can eject creatures as a bonus action, by leaving yourself, dying (don’t do that one), or by destroying the vessel.

On top of all of that, creatures that stay in the vessel for at least 10 minutes get all the benefits of a short rest, plus they add your proficiency to any healing they get from hit dice. That’s on top of the d6 they were already getting from your song of rest.

Oh right, you get another cantrip too. Grab Blade Ward again. You can never be too careful.

14. Bard 4: Yeah, did you think we were done with bards? Nope! This level of bard gives us another ASI that’ll max out your Charisma for the best spells possible!

You also learn Message, because miscommunication can be deadly, and Lesser Restoration. You never know what kind of status effects might doom your party, after all...

15. Bard 5: Fifth level bards get their inspiration bumped up to d8s, and they finally become a Font of Inspiration to recharge their inspiration on short rests. I wanted to get sanctuary vessel as quickly as possible for the sake of getting your bedchamber of survival, but it’s awfully tempting to put these two levels earlier, ngl.

You also learn how to Feign Death, because nobody’s going to bother killing you if you’re already dead, right? This spell makes you or the targeted creature effectively dead by the reckoning of anyone around them. They can’t take actions, are blinded, and can’t move. They get resistance to all damage except psychic, and any diseases or poisons they’re affected by are frozen until the spell ends an hour later.

16. Bard 6: Sixth level bards can use Countercharm to protect their party from effects that would charm or frighten them, giving them advantage on those saves for a round.

You can also put on an Animating Performance to turn a large or smaller object into a Dancing Item, which follows your orders, given by your bonus action. You can do this once per long rest, or by spending a third level spell slot.

Your last bard spell is Catnap, putting up to three creatures to sleep for 10 minutes. If they stay asleep the entire time, they get the benefits of a short rest. Dying of overwork... what a horrifying concept.

17. Warlock 11: At eleventh level, instead of getting your spell slots made bigger you get a Mystic Arcanum, allowing you to cast a sixth level spell once per long rest. Guards and Wards is very useful if you’re paranoid, creating wards to protect up to 2,500 square feet of space (a.k.a. 100 5′ squares). You can specify creatures that are immune to effects, or a password that does the same thing.

In corridors, fog fills the area, and forks in the road have a 50% chance of forcing creatures down the wrong way.

Doors are magically locked, and up to 10 doors in the area can be covered by illusions.

Stairs are covered in Webs that regrow when destroyed.

You can also place: Dancing Lights in four corridors, Magic Mouth in two places, Stinking Cloud in two places, Gust of Wind in one corridor or room, and Suggestion in one five foot square.

Casting Guards and Wards in the same place every day for a year makes it permanent.

18. Warlock 12: Use your last ASI to bump up your Constitution for better concentration and health. You also learn your last Invocation, Minions of Chaos! Once per long rest you can cast Conjure Elemental using a warlock spell slot. It is a little bit risky, but even you have to be willing to stick your neck out at some point. Might as well be level 18.

19. Warlock 13: Your seventh level Mystic Arcanum is Mirage Arcane, allowing you to reshape reality in a square mile, altering the entire terrain to your story and even making entire structures out of nothing. Even creatures with true sight will still feel the illusion, so feel free to recreate the tower of babel and hide out on the top of it.

20. Warlock 14: Your capstone level gives you a Limited Wish from your patron, recreating any spell of fifth level or lower once per 1d4 long rests. Sometimes your story just needs a Maelstrom, and nobody’s going to wait for you to take 9 levels of druid just to finish a story.

Pros:

If your DM rewards creativity and you’ve got the mind thoughts to power this build, this build will treat you very nicely. This whole thing is basically an excuse for the roleplayer inside of you to ham up your acting, chew the scenery, and distract everyone from the rogue rifling through their pockets.

Speaking of distractions you can make some really good ones. Show up to the BBEG’s lair, butter them up with some stories, then trick them into entering your vessel, and then they’re trapped in there for up to 12 hours. If you can trick them into allowing you to catnap them, that gives the rest of your party a full 10 minutes to ransack the place before they even know what’s happening. You can always kick them out if they’re being unwelcome guests, but there’s no way for them to leave on their own outside of killing you. And that’s easier said than done, because...

You’re really hard to fight. Between all the illusions, summoning creatures to fight on your behalf, the invisibility, and the altering reality in a mile radius, landing a blow on you is an ordeal, especially if you know they’re coming.

Cons:

If you’re actually stuck in a cage match with an enemy it’s gonna take a while, because you really aren’t built for damage. You have a negative strength stat, and your first damaging spell doesn’t show up until level four. Just bring them into the vessel, help them relax, and put them to sleep with catnap, that’s way less work than actually fighting them.

On a similar note, anything that can see through your illusions is going to cut through you like butter, because you’re pretty squishy. Only 15 AC and just shy of 150 HP means you should avoid fights like... well, you do in canon.

Another side effect of your squishiness is that your concentration saves aren’t that great, which is really bad for an illusionist/summoner. Neither your animated item nor your invisibility use concentration though, so you can actually get away with more than you’d think, it’s just a complicated juggling act. And trust me, you do not want to drop them in the middle of combat.

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Caster of the nightless city #warlock #bard

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prinxlyart · 4 years ago

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I also imagine that despite some culture shock, Willow and Amity fit into the human world surprisingly well. Willow's more mellow demeanor and Amity's years of experience in high social culture mean they can fit in well in almost any social setting. Almost too well, after a while it starts to get to Luz since it seems like her witch girlfriends from another dimension do a better job fitting in than she ever did. Cue Luz needing extra love and cuddles

Bruh are you trying to get me to relive my high school existential depression??? Cuz I’m about to lol. (Damn it this is another long one, fuck, why can’t I just answer a question with little blurbs???????)

[tw: for descriptions of bullying, a panic attack and general depressive thought processes]

</3 :’)

Let’s say this excursion to the Human Realm is like a week-long vacation for our girls. They stay with Camila and Luz gets to spend time with her favorite girls and show off the stuff she grew up with. She’s so excited to share all the stuff she loves!!! Like how the trees don’t actually watch you and you typically don’t need to worry about critters attacking you when you walk by. And like. 99% of the things aren’t thinking about eating you. Oh, and just electricity and technology in general.

They come up with their cover story fairly easily (Luz’s girlfriends from another country that are visiting), figure out an easy illusion spell to hide Amity and Willow’s ears, and they’re off to the races. Luz takes them to her favorite after school snack spot, her favorite locally-owned book store (there’s a cat there named Miss Mittens that sunbathes in the display window), her favorite park, etc.

Willow and Amity are having so much fun too; they love learning about the Human Realm, but they love seeing where Luz grew up even more because her whole face lights up when she’s telling them about wherever they are. The first time a truck rolls by (one of those biiigg 18-wheeler delivery trucks) they both nearly scream and are so close to casting something to protect themselves, but Luz reassures them that it’s fine.

For the most part, they just have fun!! Luz couldn’t be happier. There’s something fun about being almost like an ambassador to the people you care about; you get to share so much information and see their wonder and amazement. That is, until Willow decides to walk up to a counter at a shop and ask the clerk about something. Luz doesn’t understand the weird twinge in her heart when Willow does this, but it’s quickly brushed away when Amity grabs her hand to get her attention and ask about something else.

Then the Mall Incident happens. And Luz is shaken. She never forgot about her old bullies but she did forget how much even being around them sent her into a mild state of panic. Sure, she had classes with them all the time, but they couldn’t always be bullying her. They never were as aggressive with their bullying as Boscha had been before that Grudgby match. But that doesn’t stop Luz from shaking slightly for the rest of their time at the mall. She brushes it off when Amity and Willow ask, yeah it was kind of a shock to run into them, but she’ll be fine.

When they get home Willow and Amity know she’s not fine. It was like if Luz was a candle, she’d been snuffed out and they were only seeing the remaining wisps of smoke. It was jarring to say the least, but after talking it out with Luz and smothering her in affection, Luz does feel better.

As their little Human Realm excursion goes on, Luz watches Willow and Amity interact with the Human world with relative ease and that same twinge in her heart is back. She doesn’t know why she feels so odd about seeing her girlfriends just talk with store clerks or restaurant waitstaff, but something about the whole situation is bothering her and she can’t put her finger on what.

That is until one night towards the end of their little vacation when Willow wakes up at like, 2 in the morning to the sound of sniffling (she and Amity are sharing a blow-up mattress in Luz’s room). The alarm bells go off in her head as she registers what the noise is and looks over at Amity only to see that she’s fast asleep. Which means Luz is crying. Willow gently shakes Amity awake before sitting up and checking to make sure she didn’t mishear anything, but her heart only breaks with what she’s able to see.

Luz is curled up in a tight ball, completely surrounded in her blankets, and shaking so hard Willow could’ve mistaken it for a seizure if she hadn’t heard her crying. Willow scrambles onto Luz’s bed and gently drapes herself over Luz’s shaking form, only to hesitate when Luz almost violently recoils at her touch. Amity is quick to join them on the bed once she’s woken up enough to see that something was wrong. Both girls quietly ask Luz what they can do to help her, but her crying only becomes harsher and she starts shaking her head and pounding her hands to her forehead. Willow has to forcibly hold her hands away to make her stop while Amity fetches Camila.

Camila comes rushing in and turns on the light and just starts muttering in Spanish under her breath and she takes Luz into her arms and holds her, just gently rocking her and running her fingers through her hair and still muttering quiet Spanish. Willow and Amity can only watch, grabbing each other’s hands for any amount of stability because their hearts are shattering at the sight of their girlfriend crying so hard.

After a while, Luz’s crying dies down, but her shaking doesn’t. Camila sighs and asks Amity and Willow if they’d like to sleep in her room for the night, to which they both immediately reject. They want to know what’s going on with Luz and how they can help. They’re terrified for their girlfriend and want to do anything they can to help her. Camila feels her own heart melt at that because wow, these girls really do love Luz.

So she asks them instead if they would like to bring their blankets downstairs to the living room and get set up on the couch while she takes care of Luz. Amity and Willow are reluctant to leave Luz, but this is her mom. If anyone knows how to help her, it’s Camila. So they quietly agree and gather up their pillows and blankets and head downstairs and talk quietly on the couch, holding each other’s hands, going over what could’ve possibly caused Luz to break down in the middle of the night.

Meanwhile, Camila manages to ease Luz into letting go of the death-grip hug she has on her and sit up enough for her to wipe the tears from Luz’s face and ask her what’s wrong. Luz almost starts crying again; it hurts her so much to think about. Not to mention, it’s a dumb fear that she knows shouldn’t bother her but it’s scaring her half to death anyway. Camila just waits for Luz to gather her thoughts, gently fussing over her hair and straightening out her rumpled pajamas until Luz is ready to speak.

Luz admits to her mom that she’s scared of losing Willow and Amity. She tells her about the run in with her old bullies at the mall and what they said about her finding people that “tolerate her existence” and how that hit harder and deeper than it should have. How she can still hear the taunts in her head; about how she probably lied to them in order for them to even bother looking her way or that maybe they were just actresses Luz had hired to make her feel like she was worthy of having a girl on each arm. She knows that shouldn’t bother her because she knows Willow and Amity care about her, she knows none of that is true even in the slightest.

But then she watched them ease seamlessly into navigating the Human Realm and she remembers how long it took for her to even begin to understand the nuances of the Demon Realm and it sort of dawned on her how easily she could be left behind. It would be so easy for them to be able to figure out how the Human world works and to go off on their own adventure together; they’re both ridiculously smart and they have each other, what’s Luz but a tour guide that talks too much? And now they’ve been seen with her in public and if they ever did want to explore more of the human world, they would need to go out of town so they wouldn’t be known as Little Luz-er Noceda’s Fake Girlfriends.

Not to mention that back in the Demon Realm, they’re both known to be smart and powerful witches. Luz still gets odd looks thrown her way as she walks into a new place in the Demon Realm because she’s a Human and Humans Can’t Do Magic. Why would these two beautiful, talented, powerful witches want to be seen with Luz the Human? No matter what world she’s in, Willow and Amity are out of her league and she fears that one day they’ll realize this and just leave her behind.

Camila is absolutely heartbroken at this (and makes a mental note to reach out to that girl’s parents; two years have gone by and their child is still as nasty as ever). She reassures Luz that Willow and Amity care about her so much. She’s seen the way those girls look at Luz when they think she’s not looking and they are so beyond smitten with her. And Camilla’s long since gotten to know these girls. She knows they’re absolute angels with hearts of gold (and would probably die and/or kill for Luz, but that’s a thought Camila keeps sealed away in the darkest corners of her mind). There’s no way either of them think that way and would never leave Luz thinking they were some how better than her or too good for her.

Camila also gently reprimands her for not making these fears known sooner; a whole panic attack could’ve been avoided if Luz had brought this up earlier. Luz finally smiles and admits she went down a sort of intense depressive spiral when they all went to bed earlier that night. She’d been feeling off all week but hadn’t figured out why until it was too late. Camila tells her to go downstairs and talk with her girls; she needs to explain what caused her to have such a fierce panic attack in the middle of the night because they are worried sick. Luz gives her mom a hug and mutters her thanks before she grabs a blanket off her bed and heads downstairs. Camila follows her downstairs but goes to the kitchen instead to start some tea (and maybe check her phone to see if Eda’s up 👀).

When Luz finally comes downstairs, Willow and Amity jump off the couch and approach her to hug her, but remember how badly she reacted earlier and keep their distance while they ask her if she was okay. Just seeing her girlfriends look so worried over her well-being is enough to make Luz’s heart squeeze and she just throws her arms around the both of them and hugs them tightly. They all just stand there quietly for a minute; Willow and Amity are relieved to see Luz is okay enough to be giving them a hug, but they’re still worried about what happened. Eventually Luz pulls away and they all sit down (Luz is sandwiched between her girls and playing with their hands; it’s their go-to comfort seating arrangement) and Luz explains everything she had just explained to her mom.

By the time Luz is done with her explanation, Camila’s bringing out the tea for the girls. She sets down the tray for them and plants a big kiss on Luz’s head and tells her that she’s going to go back to bed, they just need to come get her if they need her. She also gives Willow and Amity big kisses on their heads that makes them all giggle and blush before they all wish her goodnight.

They spend a while going over each of Luz’s fears one by one, reassuring Luz that those fears have no power to them because there’s no way in any realm they’d let something like that happen. They both reassure her of how much they adore her, how much they love her (and both make sure to leave plenty of kisses on her cheeks in between said reassurances), and how nothing would ever change that.

Not to mention her last fear. Amity and Willow out of Luz’s league?? Too out of league for the girl who broke into and out of the Conformitorium twice, who defeated a Puppeteer Demon on her second day on Boiling Isles, who not only get Willow an A+ in a magic track she wasn’t good in but also switched into her magic track specialty on her 5th day on the Boiling Isles; who rediscovered an ancient, long-lost method of performing magic within her first week, while ALSO dealing with an Owl Beast Eda-

And that’s just her first week of living in their Realm. Since then she’s disrupted and completely changed the rigid learning system of their school, defeated several monsters, including the Bat Queen, a Slitherbeast, and GROM, put Boscha of all people so in her place that she’s since sat back and re-examined her entire life, and went face-to-face with Emperor Belos and managed to land a hit on him. Yknow, all within the first month and a half of her living on the Boiling Isles. (With more to add as the show goes on I’m sure)

If anyone is out of anyone’s league, Luz is so far beyond everyone that there was a new level created just for her. It doesn’t matter what some air head bully from the Human Realm thinks of her; she’s literally revolutionized life on the Boiling Isles by simply being the bright, passionate, loving person she is.

Luz is definitely crying by the time they’re done listing everything she’s accomplished. Amity and Willow just snuggle up close to her, kissing her face and her head and maybe her shoulder every so often as they reassure her that they love and admire Luz for who she is and can’t even begin to imagine their lives without her. She never ever needs to worry about them somehow leaving her behind when she’s the one leading the way.

They all end up falling asleep on the couch snuggled up with one another and empty mugs of tea on the coffee table. Camila wakes back up a few hours later and shakes her head at the sight of them; they’re all going to have sore necks when they wake up. But she takes several pictures of them and sends the best ones to Eda. Eda replies almost immediately, informing her of the bet she has going with Lilith and King about how soon after they graduate they all propose to one another and asks her if she wants in on the betting pool. She also comments on how sickeningly sweet those girls are and how she’s about to go puke her guts up and definitely NOT make one of those pictures her scroll background.

#prinxly inquiries #hushman #the owl house #willumity #tw: depressive episode #tw: panic attack #this ones a sad one yall #but dont worry the ending is so cotton-candy fluffy itll rot your teeth out #Camilia is a Good Mom that LOVES her daughter and i will stand by that until the day i die

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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

Text

As a nonbinary bisexual, I’m no stranger to people erasing me and telling me that I’m something I’m not. With the rise of terms like “pansexuality” and “omnisexuality,” many people unfamiliar with the true nature of bisexuality now think that it’s transphobic or otherwise binary — some go so far as to claim bisexuals only believe in two genders.

People assert that, while bisexuality allegedly means “attraction to two genders,” pansexuality and omnisexuality, unlike bisexuality, denote “attraction to all genders.” It’s easy to think this way if only examining the terms at face value, but this comparison is an outright lie. Some others say that new labels were a response to transphobic exclusion from the bisexual community — this is similarly not the case. (I’ll be compiling a piece on the history of the “pansexual” label at a later date.) Using this “reasoning” to separate bisexuality from these other terms is woefully inaccurate and disrespectful to bisexual and transgender people.

While there are cissexist definitions of bisexuality, that holds true for “gay” and “straight,” too. Bisexuals have also described our orientation as attraction regardless of gender¹ for decades — at least fifty years or so — and we still do. Before words like “transgender” and “nonbinary” came about, bisexuals still often saw themselves as attracted to people beyond gender.

Androgyny and gender-nonconformity are also a staple in bisexual culture. Major bisexual icons throughout history explored and embraced it. Look at bisexual chic, especially the glam rock era. Some bisexual activists and organizations have historically included and allied with transgender and nonbinary people, and many of us are transgender or nonbinary ourselves.

Below are just a few examples of the hidden secret of our gender-expansiveness. (Including a quote here does not equal my approval of what was said. Keep in mind the times during which they were recorded as well as the footnotes.)

Sources without links can be downloaded for free from ZLibrary, borrowed from the Open Library, or found wherever you purchase or borrow physical books. Sources without a year next to them are those for which I could not find the publish date.

“…the very wealth and humanity of bisexuality itself: for to exclude from one’s love any entire group of human beings because of class, age, or race or religion, or sex, is surely to be poorer — deeply and systematically poorer.”

— Kate Miller (1974)

“It’s easier, I believe, for exclusive heterosexuals to tolerate (and that’s the word) exclusive homosexuals than [bisexuals] who, rejecting exclusivity, sleep with people not genders…”

— Martin Duberman (1974)

“Margaret Mead in her Redbook magazine column wrote an article titled ‘Bisexuality: What’s It All About?’ in which she cited examples of bisexuality from the distant past as well as recent times, commenting that writers, artists, and musicians especially ‘cultivated bisexuality out of a delight with personality, regardless of race or class or sex.’”

— Janet Bode, “From Myth to Maturation,” View From Another Closet: Exploring Bisexuality in Women (1976)

“Being bisexual does not mean they have sexual relations with both sexes but that they are capable of meaningful and intimate involvement with a person regardless of gender.”

— Janet Bode, “The Pressure Cooker,” View From Another Closet (1976)

“A sex-change night club queen has claimed she had a bizarre love affair with rock superstar David Bowie. Drag artiste Ronny Haag said she lived with the bisexual singer while he was making his new film, “Just a Gigolo,” in Berlin. […] Ronny says: ‘I am a real woman.’”

— Kenelm Jenour, “I Was Bowie’s She-Man!”, Daily Mirror (1978)²

“[John] reacted emotionally to both sexes with equal intensity. ‘I love people, regardless of their gender,’ he told me.”

— Charlotte Wolff, “Early Influences,” Bisexuality, a Study (1979)

“On Saturday, February 9, San Francisco’s Bisexual Center will conduct a Gender/Sexuality Workshop. ‘We will explore the interrelationships of gender feelings and sexual preference… We will discuss sexuality and whether we choose to play out the gender role assigned to us by society or whether we can shift to attitudes supposedly held by the opposite gender, if those feel good to us. We will deal with the issue of the TV/TS [transvestite/transsexual] in transition and how sexuality evolves as gender role changes. We will attempt to present a summary of the fragmented and confusing information on gender and sexuality.’”

— The Gateway (1980)

“J: Are we ever going to be able to define what bisexuality is?

S: Never completely. That’s just it — the variety of lifestyles that we see between us defies definition.”

— “Conversations,” Bi Women: The Newsletter of the Boston Bisexual Women’s Network (1984)

“Bisexuality, however, is a valid sexual experience. While many gays have experienced bisexuality as a stage in reaching their present identity, this should not invalidate the experience of people for whom sexual & affectional desire is not limited by gender. For in fact many bisexuals experience lesbianism or homosexuality as a stage in reaching their sexual identification.

— Megan Morrison, “What We Are Doing,” Bi Women (1984)

“In the midst of whatever hardships we [bisexuals] had encountered, this day we worked with each other to preserve our gift of loving people for who they are regardless of gender.”

— Elissa M., “Bi Conference,” Bi Women (1985)

“I believe that people fall in love with individuals, not with a sex… I believe most of us will end up acknowledging that we love certain people or, perhaps, certain kinds of people, and that gender need not be a significant category, though for some of us it may be.”

— Ruth Hubbard, “There Is No ‘Natural’ Human Sexuality, Bi Women (1986)

“I am bisexual because I am drawn to particular people regardless of gender. It doesn’t make me wishy-washy, confused, untrustworthy, or more sexually liberated. It makes me a bisexual.”

— Lani Ka’ahumanu, “The Bisexual Community: Are We Visible Yet?” (1987)

“To be bisexual is to have the potential to be open emotionally and sexually to people as people, regardless of their gender.”

— Office Pink Publishing, “Introduction,” Bisexual Lives (1988)

“We made signs and slashes. My favorite read, ‘When it’s love in all its splendor, it doesn’t matter what the gender.’”

— Beth Reba Weise, “Being There and Being Bi: The National March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights,” Bi Women (1988)

“…bisexual usually also implies that relations with gender minorities are possible.”

— Thomas Geller, Bisexuality: a Reader and Sourcebook (1990)

“Many objections have been raised to the use of [“bisexual”], the most common being that it emphasizes two things that, paradoxically, bisexuals are the least likely to be involved with: the dualistic separation of male and female in society, and the physical implications of the suffix ‘-sexual’.”

— Thomas Geller, Bisexuality: a Reader and Sourcebook (1990)

“Bisexuality is a whole, fluid identity. Do not assume that bisexuality is binary or duogamous in nature: that we have ‘two’ sides or that we must be involved simultaneously with both genders to be fulfilled human beings. In fact, don’t assume that there are only two genders.”

— The Bay Area Bisexual Network, “The 1990 Bisexual Manifesto,” Anything That Moves (1990)

“Bisexuality works to subvert the gender system and everything it upholds because it is not based on gender… Bisexuality subverts gender; bisexual liberation also depends on the subversion of gender categories.”

— Karin Baker and Helen Harrison, “Letters,” Bi Women (1990)

“I tell them, whether or not I use the word ‘bisexual,’ that I am proud of being able to express my feelings toward a person, regardless of gender, in whatever way I desire.”

— Naomi Tucker, “What’s in a Name?”, Bi Any Other Name (1991)³

“Some women who call themselves ‘bisexual’ insist that the gender of their lover is irrelevant to them, that they do not choose lovers on the basis of gender.”

— Marilyn Murphy, “Thinking About Bisexuality,” Bi Women (1991)

“Results supported the hypothesis that gender is not a critical variable in sexual attraction in bisexual individuals. Personality or physical dimensions not related to gender and interaction style were the salient characteristics on which preferred sexual partners were chosen, and there was minimal grid distance between preferred male and preferred female partners. These data support the argument that, for some bisexual individuals, sexual attraction is not gender-linked. […] …the dimensions which maximally separate most preferred sexual partners are not gender-based in seven of the nine grids.”

— M W Ross, J P Paul, “Beyond Gender: The Basis of Sexual Attraction in Bisexual Men and Women” (1992)

“[S]ome bisexuals say they are blind to the gender of their potential lovers and that they love people as people… For the first group, a dichotomy of genders between which to choose doesn’t seem to exist[.]”

— Kathleen Bennett, “Feminist Bisexuality, a Both/And Option for an Either/Or World,” Closer to Home: Bisexuality and Feminism (1992)

“The expressed desires of [female bisexual] respondents differed in many cases from their experience. 37 respondents preferred women as sexual partners; 9 preferred men. 21 women had no preference, and 35 said they preferred sex with particular individuals, regardless of gender.”

— Sue George, “Living as bisexual,” Women and Bisexuality (1993)

“Who is this group for exactly? Anyone who identifies as bisexual or thinks they are attracted to or interested in all genders… This newly formed [support] group is to create a supportive, safe environment for people who are questioning their sexual orientation and think they may be bisexual.”

— “Coming Out as Bisexual,” Bi Women (1994)

“It is logical and necessary for bisexuals to recognize the importance of gender politics — not just because transsexuals, cross-dressers, and other transgender people are often assumed to be bisexual… […] I have talked to the bisexual practicers of pre-op transsexuals who feel they have the best of both worlds because their lover embodies woman and man together.² Is that not a connection between bisexuality and transgenderism? […] Some of us are bisexual because we do not pay much attention to the gender of our attractions; some of us are bisexual because we do see tremendous gender differences and want to experience them all. […] With respect to our integrity as bisexuals, it is our responsibility to include transgendered people in our language, in our communities, in our politics, and in our lives.”

— Naomi Tucker, “The Natural Next Step,” Bisexual Politics: Theories, Queries, and Visions (1995)

“The first wave of people who started the Bi Center were political radicals and highly motivated people. The group was based on inclusivity… for example, in the women’s groups, anybody who identified as a woman had the right to be there, so a lot of transgender people started coming to the Bi Center.”

— Naomi Tucker, “Bay Area Bisexual History: An Interview with David Lourea,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“[B]isexual consciousness, because of its amorphous quality and inclusionary nature, posed a fundamental threat to the dualistic and exclusionary thought patterns which were — and still are — tenaciously held by both the gay liberation leadership and its enemies.”

— Stephen Donaldson, “The Bisexual Movement’s Beginnings in the 70s,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“If anything, being bi has made me hyper-aware of the sexual differences between [men and women]. And I still get hot for both. But I do experience something that is similar to gender blindness. It’s this: being bisexual means I could potentially find myself sexually attracted to anybody. Therefore, as a bisexual, I don’t make the distinction that monosexuals do between the gender you fuck and the gender you don’t.”

— Greta Christina, “Bi Sexuality,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“[A]nd too / I am bisexual / in my history / in my capacity / in my fantasies / in my abilities / in my love for beautiful people / regardless of gender.”

— Dajenya, “Bisexual Lesbian,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“The bisexual community should be a place where lines are erased. Bisexuality dismisses, disproves, and defies dichotomies. It connotes a loss of rigidity and absolutes. It is an inclusive term. […] Despite how we choose to identify ourselves, the bisexual community still seems a logical place for transsexuals to find a home and a voice. Bisexuals need to educate themselves on transgender issues. At the same time, bisexuals should be doing education and outreach to the transsexual community, offering transsexuals an arena to further explore their sexualities and choices. Such outreach would also help break down gender barriers and misconceptions within the bisexual community itself. […] If the bisexual community turns its back on transsexuals, it is essentially turning its back on itself.”

— K. Martin-Damon, “Essay for the Inclusion of Transsexuals,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“As bisexuals, we are necessarily prompted to come up with non-binary ways of thinking about sexual orientation. For many of us, this has also prompted a move toward non-binary ways of thinking about sex and gender.”

— Rebecca Kaplan, “Your Fence Is Sitting on Me: The Hazards of Binary Thinking,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“And so we love each other and wish love for each other, regardless (to the extent possible) of gender and sex.”

— Oma Izakson, “If Half of You Dodges a Bullet, All of You Ends Up Dead,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“Similarly, the modern bisexual movement has dissolved the strict dichotomy between ‘gay’ and ‘straight’ (without invalidating our homosexual or heterosexual friends and lovers.) We have insisted on our desire and freedom to love people of all genders.”

— Sunfrog, “Pansies Against Patriarchy,” Bisexual Politics (1995)

“In the bisexual movement as a whole, transgendered individuals are celebrated not only as an aspect of the diversity of the bisexual community, but because, like bisexuals, they do not fit neatly into dichotomous categories. Jim Frazin wrote that ‘the construction and destruction of gender’ is a subject of mutual interest to bisexuals and transsexuals who are, therefore, natural allies.”

— Paula C. Rust, Bisexuality and the Challenge to Lesbian Politics: Sex, Loyalty, and Revolution (1995)

“Is bisexuality even about gender at all? ‘I don’t desire a gender,’ 25[-]year-old Matthew Ehrlich says.”

— Deborah Block-Schwenk, “Newsweek Comes Out as Supportive,” Bi Women (1995)

“One woman expressed the desire to elide categorical differences by reporting that she finds ‘relationships with men and women to be quite similar — the differences are in the individuals, not in their sex.’ Others expressed their ideal as choosing partners ‘regardless of gender…’”

— Amber Ault, Ambiguous Identity in an Unambiguous Sex/Gender Structure: The Case of Bisexual Women (1996)

“Most conceptual models of bisexuality explain it in terms of conflictual or confused identity development, [r-slur] sexual development, or a defence against ‘true’ heterosexuality or homosexuality. It has been suggested, however, that some individuals can eroticize more than one love object regardless of gender, that sexual patterns could be more variable and fluid than theoretical notions tend to allow, and that sexual desire may not be as fixed and static in individuals as is assumed by ‘essential’ sexual categories and identities.”

— E.Antonio de Moya and Rafael García, “AIDS and the Enigma of Bisexuality in the Dominican Republic,” Bisexualities and AIDS: International Perspectives (1996)

“I’m bi. That simply means I can be attracted to a person without consideration of their gender.”

— E. Grace Noonan, “Out on the Job: DEC Open to Bi Concerns,” Bi Women (1996)

“BiCon should accept transgender people as being on their chosen gender, this includes any single gender events.”

— BiCon Guidelines (1998)⁴

“The probability is that your relationship is based on, or has nestled itself into something based more on the relationship between two identities than on the relationship between two people. That’s what we’re taught: man/man, woman/woman, woman/man, top/bottom, butch/femme, man/woman/man, etc. We’re never taught person/person. That’s what the bisexual movement has been trying to teach us. We’re never taught that, so we fall into the trap of ‘you don’t love me, you love my identity.’”

— Kate Bornstein, My Gender Workbook (1998)

“Transsexuality and bisexuality both occupy heretical thresholds of human experience. We confound, illuminate and explore border regions. We challenge because we appear to break inviolable laws. Laws that feel ‘natural.’ And quite possibly, since we are not the norm or even average, it is likely that one function we have is to subvert those norms or laws; to break down the sleepy and unimaginative law of averages.”

— Max Wolf Valerio, “The Joker Is Wild: Changing Sex + Other Crimes of Passion,” Anything That Moves (1998)

“From the earliest years of the bi community, significant numbers of TV/TS and transgender people have always been involved with it. The bi community served as a kind of refuge for people who felt excluded from the established gay and lesbian communities.”

— Kevin Lano, “Bisexuality and Transgenderism,” Anything That Moves (1998)

“A large group of bisexual women reported in a Ms. magazine article that when they fell in love it was with a person rather than a gender…”

— Betty Fairchild and Nancy Hayward, “What is Gay?”, Now that You Know: A Parents’ Guide to Understanding Their Gay and Lesbian Children (1998)

“Over the past fifteen years, however, [one Caucasian man] has realized that he is ‘attracted to people — not their sexual identity’ and no longer cares whether his partners are male or female. He has kept his Bi identity and now uses it to refer to his attraction to people regardless of their gender.”

— Paula C. Rust, “Sexual Identity and Bisexual Identities,” Queer Studies: A Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Anthology (1998)

“Bisexual — being emotionally and physically attracted to all genders.”

— The Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Education Network, “Out of the Past: Teacher’s Guide” (1999)

“There were a lot of transvestites and transsexuals who came to [the San Francisco Bisexual Center in the 1970s], because they were not going to be turned away because of the way they dressed.”

— David Lourea, “Bisexual Histories in San Francisco in the 1970s and Early 1980s,” 2000 Journal of Bisexuality

“Respondent #658 said that both are irrelevant; ‘who I am sexually attracted to has nothing to do with their sex/gender,’ whereas Respondent #418 focuses specifically on the irrelevance of sex: I find myself attracted to either men or women. The outside appendages are rather immaterial, as it is the inner being I am attracted to. […] Respondent #495 recalled that “the best definition I’ve ever heard is someone who is attracted to people & gender/sex is not an issue or factor in that attraction.” […] As Respondent #269 put it, “I do not exclude a person from consideration as a possible love interest on the basis of sex/gender.” […] For most individuals who call themselves bisexual, bisexual identity reflects feelings of attraction, sexual and otherwise, toward women and men or toward other people regardless of their gender.”

— Paula C. Rust, “Two Many and Not Enough: The Meanings of Bisexual Identities,” 2000 Journal of Bisexuality

“Giovanni’s distinction between what he wants and who he wants resonates with the language of many of today’s bisexuals, who insist that they fall in love with a person, not a gender.”

— Marjorie Garber, Bisexuality and the Eroticism of Everyday Life (2000)

“The message of bisexuality — that people are more than their gender; that we accept all people, regardless of Kinsey scale rating; that we embrace people regardless of age, weight, clothing, hair style, gender expression, race, religion and actually celebrate our diversity — that message is my gospel. I travel, write, do web sites — all to let people know that the bisexual community will accept you, will let you be who you are, and will not expect you to fit in a neat little gender/sexuality box.”

— Wendy Curry, “Celebrating Bisexuality,” Bi Women (2000)

“But really, just like I can’t believe in the heterosexist binary gender system, I have difficulty accepting wholeheartedly any one spiritual tradition.”

— Anonymous, “A Methodical Awakening,” Bi Women (2002)

“But there are also many bis, such as myself, for whom gender has no place in the list of things that attract them to a person. For instance, I like people who are good listeners, who understand me and have interests similar to mine, and I am attracted to people with a little padding here and there, who have fair skin and dark hair (although I’m pretty flexible when it comes to looks). ‘Male’ or ‘female’ are not anywhere to be found in the list of qualities I find attractive.”

— Karin Baker, “Bisexual Basics,” Solidarity-us.org (2002)

“Bisexual: A person who is attracted to people regardless of gender (a person does not have to have a relationship to be bisexual!)”

— Bowling Green State University, “Queer Glossary” (2003)

“The bisexual community seems to be disappearing. Not that there won’t always be people around who like to have sex with people of all genders, the community, as I’ve discussed in this book, is a different matter altogether.”

— William Burleson, Bi America: Myths, Truths, and Struggles of an Invisible Community (2005)

“Although bisexuals in general may or may not be more enlightened about gender issues, there has been, and continues to be, in most places around the country a strong connection between the transgender and the bisexual communities. Indeed, the two communities have been strong allies. Why is this? One reason certainly is, as I mentioned earlier, the significant number of people who are both bisexual and transgender.”

— William Burleson, Bi America: Myths, Truths, and Struggles of an Invisible Community (2005)

“Amy: […] But my friend’s question got me thinking: given the fact that so many bisexual friends and community members reject the idea that gender has to have a relation to attraction and behavior, why should I reject the bi label? Why did her question even come up? How relevant is gender to the concept of bisexuality? If bisexuals like me don’t care about gender the way monosexuals do, why would my identity label exclude my lovers’ gender variations?

Kim: …Like you, I’m a bi person who sees gender as fluid rather than fixed or dichotomous… I’ve also felt outside pressure to reject my bi identity based on the idea that it perpetuates the gender binary: woman/man. However, this idea reduces bisexual to ‘bi’ and ‘sexual’ and disregards the fact that it represents a history, a community, a substantial body of writing, and the right of the bisexual community to define ‘bisexuality’ on its own terms. Most importantly, this idea disregards how vital these things are for countless bi people. Identifying as bi doesn’t inherently mean anything, and it definitely doesn’t mean a person only recognizes two genders. However, to assume that bi-identified people exclude transgender, gender nonconforming (GNC), and genderqueer people also assumes they are not trans, GNC, or genderqueer themselves, when in fact, many are.”

— Kim Westrick and Amy Andre, “Semantic Wars,” Bi Women (2009)

“The [intracommunity biphobia] problem is very serious, because bisexuals, along with trans folks, are the rejects among rejects, that is to say, those who suffer from discrimination (gays and lesbians) discriminate against bis and trans folks. It is for this reason, at least here in Mexico City, that Opción Bi allies itself with transsexuals, transgender people and transvestites, and works together with them whenever possible. It seems to me we are closer to the trans communities than to the lesbian and gay ones.”

— Robyn Ochs, “Bis Around the World: Myriam Brito, Mexican City,” Bi Women (2009)

“I introduce myself as bisexual, because I am attracted to people, across gender lines, and ‘bisexual’ comes closest to explaining that.”

— B.J. Epstein, “Bye Bi Labels,” Bi Women (2009)

“Bisexuality is not some kind of middle-ground between heterosexuality and homosexuality; rather I imagine it as a way to erode the fixed systems of gender and sexual identity which always result in guilt, fear, lies[,] and discrimination.”

— Carlos Iván Suárez García, “What Is Bisexuality?”, Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)⁵

“To me, bisexuality is a matter of loving and accepting everyone equally — seeing the beauty in the human soul, rather than in the shell that houses it. Being transgender, I know firsthand that love between two people can transcend — even embrace — what society regards as taboo. Bisexuality is a mindset of revolution, a mindset of change. We’re creating a brave new world of acceptance and love for all people, of all the myriad genders and methods of sexual expression that this world contains.

— Jessica, “What Is Bisexuality?”, Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“Bisexuality (whatever that means) for me is about the ability to relate to all people at a deep emotional level. It is an openness of the heart. It is the absence of limits, especially those that are defined by the other person’s sex.”

— Andrea Toselli, “Coming Out Bisexual,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“Considering my personal preferences, calling myself ‘bisexual’ covers a wider territory regarding my capacity to fall in love and to share the life of a couple with another person without taking into consideration questions of gender.”

— Aida, “Why Bi?”, Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“I’m sure I’m bisexual because I can’t ignore the allure and loveliness of a wide spectrum of people — differentiating by gender never seemed attractive or even logical to me. […] For me bisexuality means I don’t stop attraction, caring or relationship potential based on gender; I can have sex, flirtation or warm ongoing love with anyone (not everyone, okay? That part’s a myth). […] And we have enough trouble splitting the human race into two halves, assigning mandatory characteristics, and then torturing people to fill arbitrary roles — I consider that a wrong and inaccurate way to understand human potential, and that’s also why I’m bi. Men and women are different? Honey, everyone I’ve ever met has been different. I think being bisexual lets me see each person as an individual.”

— Carol Queen, “Why Bi?”, Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“But to hell with respectability: the real point about being bisexual, a friend pointed out, is that you’re asking someone other than ‘What sex is this person?’”

— Tom Robinson, “Bisexual Community,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“Being bisexual… allows us to love each other regardless of our gender…”

— Jorge Pérez Castiñeira, “Bisexual Community,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“‘Hello, my name is Jaqueline Applebee… if you want to see me later, or just want a kiss, let me know as I’m bisexual, and you’re all gorgeous!’ […] I have loved men, women, and those who don’t identify with any gender.”

— Jaqueline Applebee, “Bisexual Community,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“[T]here’s nothing binary about bisexuals. Bi is just a provisional term reminding us, however awkwardly, that when it comes to loving, family and tribe, margins and middle intertwine.”

— Loraine Hutchins, “Bisexual Politics,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“My bi identity is not about who I am having sex with; it is not about the genitals of my past, current, or future lovers; it is not about choosing potential partners or excluding partners based on what is between their legs. It is about potential — the potential to love, to be attracted to, to be intimate with, share a life with a person because of who they are. I see a person, not a gender… I demand to be free to legally marry anyone without regard to their gender.”

— Rifka Reichler, “Bisexual Politics,” Getting Bi: Voices of Bisexuals Around the World, Second Edition (2009)

“To me, being bisexual means having a sexuality that isn’t limited by the sex or gender of the people you are attracted to. You just recognize that you can be attracted to a person for very individual reasons.”

— Deb Morley, “Bi of the Month: An Interview with Ellyn Ruthstorm,” Bi Women (2010)

“Q: Which gender person does a bisexual love? A: Any gender she wants.”

— Marcia Deihl, “Do Clothes Make the Woman?”, Bi Women (2010)

“While the bisexual manifesto being written following a workshop at London BiCon is still being worked on, the tweeters set to work on a shorter, snappier alternative… ‘Love is about what’s in your hearts, not your underwear.’ […] ‘We aren’t more confused, greedy, indecisive or lustful than anyone else. We like people based on personality not gender.’ ‘[W]e believe that lust is more important than anatomy.’ ‘What you have between your legs doesn’t matter. What you have between your ears does[.]’”

— Jen Yockney, “#bisexualmanifesto,” Bi Community News (2010)

“As briefly mentioned above and interlinked with the notion of ‘importance of individuality’, the binary concepts of gender and the stereotypes surrounding these is a notion which each of the [bisexual] women interviewed fundamentally reject. The participants here were keen to distance themselves and their experiences of romantic relationships from any notion of hetero-normative gender boundaries, although they did agree that unfortunately these gender boundaries still exist in contemporary society. Most participants do not link gender boundaries with concepts of romantic love; it was stated that although sometimes gender boundaries can be seen in romantic relationships this is primarily down to socialisation and the unnecessary importance that hetero-normative society places on gender roles. Therefore, gender boundaries seen in romantic relationships are not constrained by gender but instead are a product of gendered socialisation. For these women, claiming their bisexual identity and their romantic relationships illustrates the futility of binary concepts of gender as it is about individual preference or style rather than gendered norms values and expectations.”

— Emma Smith, “Bisexuality, Gender & Romantic Relationships,” Bi Community News (2012)

“And anyway, I’m generally not sexually attracted to men or women. I’m into all sorts of things, but a person being a man or a woman isn’t a turn-on. Certainly not in the same way it’s a turn off to a gay or straight person. I’m never going to think “Wow, Zie is really sexy, shame they’re a ____” because what turns me off isn’t gender.”

— Marcus, “What makes a bisexual?”, Bi Community News (2012)

“I am bisexual. That does not depend on my dating experience or my attraction specifications. It is not affected by my dislike for genitals (of any shape). All it describes is how gender affects attraction for me: it doesn’t. I am attracted to people regardless of gender, and I am bisexual.”

— Emma Jones, “Not Like the Others,” Bi Women (2013)

“I’m generally okay with ‘attraction to more than one gender’ [as a definition of ‘bisexuality’]. I think that the ‘more than’ part is important because there are definitely more than two genders. Some people like the definition ‘attraction regardless of gender’ and I like that too because it suggests that things other than gender can be equally, or more, important in who we are attracted to. I like to question why our idea of sexuality is so bound up with gender of partners. Why not encompass other aspects such as the roles we like to take sexually, or how active or passive we like to be, or what practices we enjoy? Why is our gender, and the gender of our partners, seen as such a vital part of who we are?”

— Robyn Ochs, “Around the World: Meg Barker,” Bi Women (2013)

“It may sound crazy but I’d never thought that carefully about the ‘bi’ part of the word meaning ‘two’. I’d always understood bisexuality to mean what Bobbie Petford reports as the preferred definition from within the UK bi communities: changeable ‘sexual and emotional attraction to people of any sex, where gender may not be a defining factor’. […] Participants in the BiCon discussion rejected the ‘you are a boy or you are a girl…binary’ (Lanei), all arguing that they were not straightforwardly ‘masculine’ or ‘feminine’.

[…] Because they discarded the dichotomous understanding of gender, participants rejected the ideas that they were attracted to ‘both’ men and women, arguing that they did not perceive gender as the defining feature in their attraction. Kim said: I don’t think actually gender is that relevant…gender is like eye colour, and I notice it sometimes, and sometimes it can be a bit of a feature it’s like “oo, that’s nice” and I have some sorts of gender types, but it’s about as important as something like eye colour.

[…] As I came to realise that you can actually be bisexual…your desires and your attractions can wax and wane as time goes on, I realised that there was a parallel to gender: you don’t have to clearly define, you don’t have to cast off the male to be female and vice versa. Despite the fact that the conventional definition of the word ‘bisexual’ could be seen as perpetuating a dichotomous concept of gender, being attracted to both sexes, Georgina concluded that it could challenge conventional understandings of gender…”

— “Bisexuality & Gender,” Bi Community News (2014)

“My fellow bisexuals… I stand before you as an unapologetic, outspoken, bisexual activist who has intimately loved women, men and transgender persons throughout my life span of 72 years…”

— ABilly S. Jones-Hennin, “If Loving You is Wrong, Then I Don’t Want to be Right,” Bisexual Organizing Project (2014)

“Coming out as bisexual in the late 80s, when I first came across the label pansexual it didn’t involve any kind of gender nuance: it was how someone explained their bisexuality feeling interwoven with their Pagan beliefs. Back then the ‘bi’ in bisexual didn’t get talked about as having some great limiting weight of ‘two’, it was an “and” in a world that saw things as strictly either/or. As I was pushing at boundaries of discussion around gender and sexuality with people in the 90s I’d sometimes quip that I was ‘bisexual, I just haven’t decided which two genders yet’. When I started to come across people saying that bi was limiting because it meant two, a bit of me did think: oh lord, were they taking me seriously?”

— Jen, “Bi or Pan?”, Bi Community News (2015)

“Pansexuality is sometimes defined as attraction to people of all genders, which is also the experience of many bisexual people. More often than not, however, people define their pansexuality in relation to bisexuality. In response to the question: ‘What does pansexual mean?’ I’ve seen countless people reply: ‘I’m attracted to people of more than two genders. Not bisexual.’ The implication is that bisexual means binary attraction: men and women only.

Since I came out in the late 90s, I haven’t seen one bi activist organisation define bisexuality as attraction solely to men and women. Bi and trans* issues began to grow in recognition at the same time. When I use ‘bi’ to refer to two types of attraction, I mean attraction to people of my gender and attraction to people of other genders. […] …it’s so upsetting to see internalised biphobia leading many pansexuals, many of whom until recently identified as bisexual, telling us we’re still not queer enough. Gay and straight people aren’t being pressurised into giving up the language they use to describe their attractions and neither should they be. As usual it’s only bisexuals being shamed into erasing our identities and our history.

The most frustrating thing to me about the current bi vs pan discourse is that it’s framed as a cisgender vs genderqueer debate. This has never been the case. In reality, many genderqueer people identify as bisexual… To say bisexuality is binary erases the identities of these revolutionary bisexual genderqueer activists, and it erases the identity of every marginalised genderqueer bisexual they’re fighting for.”

— Sali, “Bi or Pan?”, Bi Community News (2015)

“Currently some pansexual people argue that bi is ‘too binary’ and that bisexuals are focused on conventional male/female gender expressions only. This is then taken to mean that bisexuals are more transphobic, whereas pansexuals aren’t locked into a binary so they are open to all gender expressions. However we believe this is not the case since bisexuals: ‘… do not comply with our society’s imposed framework of attraction, we must consciously construct our own framework and examine how and why we are attracted (or not) to others. This process automatically acknowledges the artificiality of the gender binary and gendered norms and expectations for behavior. Indeed, the mere act of explaining our definition of bisexual to a nonbisexual person requires us to address the falsity of the gender binary head on.’

We do not deny that in actuality some bisexuals are too bound by traditional binary gender assumptions, just as many gay, lesbian, and heterosexual, and some trans people are too. Bisexuals, however, have been in the forefront of exploring desire and connection beyond sex and gender. When anyone accuses bisexuals, uniquely, as more binary and more transphobic than other identity groups, such targeting is not only inappropriate but is also rooted in biphobia — a fear and hatred of bi people for who we are and how we love.

Confusing the issue are the definitions in resource glossaries defining bisexual, most surprisingly in newly released books including textbooks. [...] These definitions arbitrarily define bisexual in a binary way and then present pansexual as a non-binary alternative. This opens the doorway to a judgment that pansexual identity is superior to bisexual identity because it ‘opens possibilities’ and is a ‘more fluid and much broader form of sexual orientation’. This judgmental conclusion is unacceptable and dangerous as it lends itself to perpetuating bisexual erasure. The actual lived non-binary history of the bisexual community and movement and the inclusive nature and community spirit of bisexuals are eradicated when a binary interpretation of our name for ourselves is arbitrarily assumed.”

— Lani Ka’ahumanu and Loraine Hutchins, “Bi Organizing Since 1991,” Bi Any Other Name (New 25th Anniversary Edition) (2015)

“Herself a bisexual woman, [Nan Goldin] found that drag queens, to her a third gender, were perfect companions. By transgressing the bounds of the binary, they had created identities that were infinitely more meaningful.”

— Alicia Diane Ridout, “Gender Euphoria: Photography, Fashion, and Gender Nonconformity in The East Village” (2015)

“It is the job of those of us with links to children to continue to promote the language of bisexuality and validity of attraction to all genders — especially when that attraction changes over time.”

— Bethan, “Practical Bi Awareness: Teaching and LGBT,” Bi Community News (2016)

“The persistent use of the Kinsey Scale is another issue. Originally asking about the genders of people you have had sex with, more recently it gets deployed in more sophisticated ways which distinguish between sexual attraction, romantic attraction, and sexual activity. Nonetheless it is woefully inadequate in accounting for attraction to genders other than male and female — a key part of many bisexual people’s experience.”

— Milena Popova, “Scrap the Kinsey Scale!”, Bi Community News (2016)

“Robyn Ochs states where the EuroBiCon also stands for: bisexuality goes beyond the binary gender thinking. There are more genders than the obsolete idea of two: male and female.”

— Erwin, “Robyn Ochs: ‘Bisexuality goes beyond the binary gender thinking’,” European Bisexual Conference (2016)

“I call myself bisexual because it includes attraction to all genders (same as mine; different from mine).”

— Rev. Francesca Bongiorno Fortunato, “Label Me With a B,” Bi Women Quarterly (2016)

“Loving a person rather than a man or a woman: this is Runa Wehrli’s philosophy. At 18, she defines herself as bisexual and speaks about it openly. […] She believes that love should not be confined by the barriers put up by society. ‘I fall in love with a person and not a gender,’ she says. […] Now single and just out of high school, she is leaving the door open to love, while still refusing to give it a gender.”

— Katy Romy, “‘I fall in love with a person and not a gender’,” Swissinfo (2017)

“I’m bisexual so I can’t really come out as gay. When I’m gay I’m very gay. And when I’m with men then, you know, I’m with men. I don’t fall in love with people because of their gender.”

— Nan Goldin for Sleek Magazine (2017)

“I use the word bisexual — a lot / I’ve marched in the Pride parade with the Toronto Bisexual Network / I post Bi pride & Bi awareness articles all over social media / I’m seeking out dates of any and all genders / (not to prove anything to anyone, but simply because I want to)

— D’Arcy L. J. White, “Coming Out as Bisexual,” Bi Women Quarterly (2017)

“BISEXUAL — Someone who is attracted to more than one gender, someone who is attracted to two or more genders, someone who is attracted to the same and other genders, or someone who is attracted to people regardless of their gender. […] Other words with the same definition of bisexual, though they have different connotations, are ‘pansexual,’ ‘polysexual,’ and ‘omnisexual.’”

— Morgan Lev Edward Holleb, The A-Z of Gender and Sexuality: From Ace to Ze (2018)

“In the heat of July [2009], and finally equipped with a word for “attracted to people regardless of gender”, I bounded out of Brighton station with that same best friend. At the time, I didn’t know that we bisexuals have our own flag…”

— Lois Shearing, “Why London Pride’s first bi pride float was so important,” The Queerness (2018)

“Being bisexual does not assume people are only attracted to just two genders. Bisexuality can be limitless for many and pay no regard to the sex or gender of a person.”

— “The Bi+ Manifesto” (2018)

“I realized I was bisexual at age fifteen, but although I am attracted to folks of any gender, I’ve always had a preference for men.”

— Mark Mulligan, “Fight and Flight: ‘Butch Flight,’ Trans Men, and the Elusive Question of Authenticity,” Nursing Clio (2018)

“Bisexuality just became, to me, about that openness — that openness to anything, and any potential to any type of relationship, regardless of gender. Gender is no longer a disqualifier for me. It’s about the person.”

— Rob Cohen, “Where Are All the Bi Guys?,” Two Bi Guys (2019)

“Oh no, Mom. I’m not a lesbian. Actually, I’m bisexual. That means that gender doesn’t determine whom I’m attracted to.”

— Annie Bliss, “Older and Younger,” Bi Women Quarterly (2019)

“A bisexual woman, for example, may have sex with, date or marry another woman, a man or someone who is non-binary. […] If you think you might be bisexual, try asking yourself these questions: …Can I picture myself dating, having sex with, or being married to any gender/sex?”

— “I Think I Might Be Bisexual,” Advocates for Youth

“Although it’s true that people have all kinds of different attractions to different kinds of people, assuming that all bisexuals are never attracted to trans or genderqueer folk is harmful, not only to bi individuals, but to trans and genderqueer individuals who choose to label themselves as bi.”

— “Labels,” Bisexual Resource Center

“My own understanding of bisexuality has changed dramatically over the years. I used to define bisexuality as ‘the potential to be attracted to people regardless of their gender.’ […] Alberto is attracted to the poles, to super-masculine guys and super-feminine girls. Others are attracted to masculinity and/or femininity, regardless of a person’s sex. Some of us who identify as bisexual are in fact ‘gender-blind.’ For others — in fact for me — it’s androgyny or the blending of genders that compels.”

— Robin Ochs, “What Does It Mean to Be Bi+?”, Bisexual Resource Center

“… bisexual people are those for whom gender is not the first criteria in determining attraction.”

— Illinois Department of Public Health, “Sexual Orientation, Gender Identity and Youth Suicide”

“Bisexuality is sexual/romantic attraction to people regardless of sex or gender.”

— “Bisexual FAQ,” Kvartir

“Please also note that attraction to both same and different means attraction to all. Bisexuality is inherently inclusive of everyone, regardless of sex or gender.

In everyday language, depending on the speaker’s culture, background, and politics, that translates into a variety of everyday definitions such as:

Attraction to men and women

Attraction to all sexes or genders

Attraction to same and other genders

Love beyond gender

Attraction regardless of sex or gender”

— American Institute of Bisexuality, “What Is Bisexuality?,” Bi.org

“This idea [that bisexuality reinforces a false gender binary] has its roots in the anti-science, anti-Enlightenment philosophy that has ironically found a home within many Queer Studies departments at universities across the Anglophone world. […] Bisexuality is an orientation for which sex and gender are not a boundary to attraction… Over time, our society’s concept of human sex and gender may well change. For bis, people for whom sex/gender is already not a boundary, any such change would have little effect.”

— American Institute of Bisexuality, “Questions,” Bi.org

Gender-expansive (or -fluid, or -blind) descriptions of bisexuality are nothing new — and with the exception of the Getting Bi quotes, the above compilation is just what I was able to find online. Arguably, the concept of excluding genders never even crossed the mind of many twentieth-century bisexuals — not just because “nonbinary genders hadn’t entered the mainstream” — but simply because many bisexuals understand bisexuality itself as “beyond” gender. Go to any bisexual organization and they’ll tell you bisexuality is broad and can include anyone.

Of course, the above quotes do not reflect the beliefs of every bisexual — no single quote can do that. These quotes were certainly not the only variation of bisexual-given definitions of bisexuality. I’m only pointing out that the “both” descriptions are similarly not the only ones that exist.

Even then, before wider knowledge of and language for nonbinary identities, attraction to “both” men and women was attraction regardless of gender. “Both” does not purposefully keep anyone out; it only (mistakenly) assumes how many groups there are. Gender not being a make-or-break, or not caring about gender in general, doesn’t depend on how many genders there are.⁶

Not to mention, all sexualities automatically include some nonbinary people — “nonbinary” isn’t merely a third gender. The mere notion that someone could just “not be attracted” to nonbinary people as a group completely misunderstands nonbinary identity.

Some bisexuals “see a person, not a gender,” while others, like me, see a person with a gender (that doesn’t stop us from finding them attractive), if they have one. Being bisexual has made me see people in more gender-neutral ways. Our experiences are far too vast to pin down, and there’s immense beauty in that vagueness.

Also, while bisexual activism and transgender activism have frequently overlapped, plenty of cisgender bisexuals are transphobic. But this is because all sexualities have transphobes. Even if we coined a sexual identity that only transgender people could use, some identifying with it would still likely be transphobes. Why allow transphobic bisexuals to erase the attitudes of all the bisexuals before and after them?

I find it incredibly odd that people now task bisexuals with proving our inclusivity considering that, for decades, we never had to. We had always (i.e., consistently throughout history, not as in every bisexual) been warping gender norms, but it was never to debunk a myth or make ourselves look good; it was just how we were. That hasn’t changed.

One of the predominant stereotypes is still that we’re indiscriminate sluts willing to sleep with anyone, but somehow there’s a new wave of folks insisting that we require our partners to obey the gender binary. I have a severely hard time believing this conclusion is based on reality. Almost all attempts to redefine bisexuality as binary come from people who don’t identify as such.

Imagine if we performed this revisionism with the word “gay.” For this example, I’ll use “gay” to describe gay men in particular.

“Gay” only means exclusive attraction to men, so the people who use that word only like cisgender men. I’m androsexual, which means I like cisgender, transgender, and nonbinary men.

Doesn’t that sound ridiculous? So why do we only apply this rhetoric to bisexuals? (It couldn’t possibly be because of biphobia, could it?)

While it’s obviously unrealistic to say that no bisexual person has ever been transphobic, bisexual orientation is not, and never has been, about exclusion. Considering that bisexual activists were seldom (if ever) focused on the prefix in the word “bisexual,” this recent fixation people have on trying to find a way to use “two” in its definition is misguided.

Begging to differ is ignorant and arrogant, contradicting not only history but many current bisexuals who understand bisexuality as all-encompassing. Acting like it’s uniquely binary or inherently limited in any way is indisputably false and biphobic. Please stop speaking over us and erasing our history. It, like the bisexual community itself, is bountiful, beautiful, and never going away.

Here’s one final quote that, while a bit unrelated to the rest, I particularly enjoy:

“I understand bisexuality not as a mixture of homosexuality and heterosexuality as Kinsey did, nor as a particular sexuality on an equal footing with homosexuality and heterosexuality, but as a holistic view of human sexuality, in which all aspects related to human sexuality are taken into account.”

— Miguel Obradors-Campos, “Deconstructing Biphobia” (2011)

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castiel-kline · 4 years ago

Note

cas and balthazar meet again post finale

This one really got away from me, and it got really long. I promise it does answer the prompt but I also made it super plotty for some reason. I hope you don’t mind!

Being taken by the Empty didn’t feel like dying.

Of course, that’s what was happening to him, but it didn’t feel like that. It felt cold, and painful, and vengeful. Lonely and miserable and laced with glittering knives of regret.

It was his damnation. Not the traditional sense of the word, but true nonetheless.

But if facing it meant he’d save his family? Save Jack from being subject to the same fate? He’d damn himself to this a thousand times over, without a single shred of hesitation.

The Empty had him entirely covered in its goo, tendrils snaking under his skin and into his body from every angle. In through the eyes, the nose, snaking down his throat. Under the fingernails, into the ears, scraping through the tattered remnants of his grace and pressing down around his true form.

It was agony.

Eventually it subsided, and some of the inky tendrils retracted, leaving him gasping for air that neither existed in this realm nor was truly necessary. He collapsed in a heap, the Empty bubbling around him. He spared a glance up, wondering if the Shadow were nearby to gloat before sending them both into slumber. What he saw… well. Unexpected didn’t quite cover it.

“Jack?”

“Hmm. Guess again, Castiel.”

“No.” Don’t you dare look like him.

“Oh, yes. Because it hurts you to look at him, doesn’t it?” The Shadow leaned down, condescension clear as day in its every move. So wrong on Jack’s face that it twisted something deep within him. It stared him down, watching him squirm, mania-painted smirk stretching wider. “Good. I want you to suffer, so that’s what you’re going to do.”

“I thought you wanted your peace and quiet,” Cas managed, as more tendrils snaked out over his wrists and ankles. Dragging him a little bit further down, completely at the Empty’s mercy. Somehow he suspected that was the point.

The Shadow straightened, looking down Jack’s nose at him.

“Of course I do,” It said, emulating Jack’s earnestness. Liar. “But I can’t!”

“What?”

“Wonderboy-” the Shadow gesticulated wildly in the direction of its facsimile body “-woke everybody up when he exploded all over me. So I don’t get to sleep, no, and if I don’t get to sleep then you definitely don’t get to sleep. None at all.”

Quicker than a blink, the Shadow had fisted Castiel’s collar in its hands, bringing their faces inches apart.

“At least,” It whispered, eyes wild with an energy Jack had never, and would never, possess. “I get to make you suffer like you’ve made me suffer. So I want you to look at this face, Castiel. Look at it, and know that it’s contorted in tears right now because Papa Bear abandoned him.”

The Shadow threw him down, the goo swallowing him right back up. Submerged in the dark, he scarcely felt its weight. He was too busy drowning in a fresh cascade of guilt.

It yanked him back up, tendrils leaving him suspended in the middle of nothing. Some of them twisted at his feathers, pulling them just enough to be excruciating but not enough to rip them free. He screamed.

“Be quiet!” The Empty released him, and Cas fell back down, every fibre of his being crying out in pain.

The Shadow cackled, everything about it from the pitch to the cadence to the intention screaming wrong, wrong, wrong.

“You’re never going to regret this, are you?”

Cas glared at it, mustering up as much defiance as he could.

“No,” he croaked. “Because saving my family? That’s worth dying a thousand deaths.”

The Shadow doubled over laughing again. Then, quick as a blink, kicked him across the face, sending him reeling backwards.

“‘Die a thousand deaths’? Please. You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Castiel pushed himself back up, following the Shadow’s pacing with his eyes. It walked with one arm tucked behind its back, the other gesticulating as it spoke.

“Death isn’t going to be enough for you, hmm. Oh, you know what you’ve never been able to take?” It spun back around, grinning down at him. “You can’t stand seeing the pain you’ve caused. And since you can’t see what’s left of your precious little family- not that they even care that you died, by the way- how would you feel about seeing the angels again?”

No. He must have looked visibly afraid, because the Shadow only smiled wider.

“Not so pleasant a thought, hmm? Seeing as you killed most of them.” It laughed again, clapping its hands in an expression of glee that would have been endearing coming from Jack, but now simply served to be disturbing. “Oh, yes. It’ll be just like throwing a scrap of meat to a pack of starving dogs.”

Cas shook his head, but the Empty pressed on. It waved its hand, and Castiel was thrown some immeasurable distance away. He pushed himself to a sitting position, and watched in horror as the ground bubbled around him, and his brothers and sisters began to crawl their way out.

He recognized them, of course, because he’d taken care to never forget a single name. He saw Hael first, then Bartholomew, then Jonah and Efram and Ambriel and Samandriel. He saw Raphael, Uriel, Anna, Jophiel. He scrambled to his feet, unable to do anything but watch and wait for their wrath to undoubtedly descend upon him.

Someone grabbed him from behind and pulled, running and dragging Castiel with them. He didn’t fight it, figuring that whoever had him was going to inflict a world of pain and there wasn’t a thing to do but accept it. They’d gone a fair distance, if there was such a thing as distance in nothing, before they stopped and Cas turned to face who had taken him.

“Balthazar?” His voice came out strangled, as scarcely more than a whisper.

“Cas,” Balthazar said, staring at him with something unreadable in his eyes. “Your wings…”

“Balthazar,” Cas repeated, finding himself unable to say anything else, mind swirling in an inescapable vortex of grief and guilt and pain. “I’m sorry, my friend. I’m so sorry.”

“What, for killing me? You weren’t yourself.”

“I was. That’s the problem.”

Balthazar just shook his head. “It’s going to take more than a stab in the back to get rid of me. You do know that, right?”

“If we weren’t already dead I’d offer you my blade to kill me. I deserve nothing more.”

“Castiel.” Cas forced himself to meet Balthazar’s eyes directly. “I know you, and so I forgive you. As I’ve told you before- nothing’s changed.”

Cas smiled bitterly. “Except me.”

“What happened to you?” Balthazar’s fingers traced the air where Castiel’s wings lay mangled and twisted in another dimension. “You look like you’ve been clawed apart by feral house cats.”

“I destroyed everything, Balthazar. So many times.” And he felt like he was being crushed under the weight of all his mistakes. Perhaps this was the torture the Empty preferred for him- giving him back a lost friend, giving him forgiveness- and then ripping it away again. Surely even someone as loyal as Balthazar wouldn’t want to associate with him after learning of the things he’d done.

“You, Cassie? I’ve only ever known you to do what’s right.”

“How can you say that when you saw me make one of my biggest mistakes? When I killed you because of it?”

Balthazar scoffed. “Mistake? Cas, you were trying to stop our control freak of an older brother from letting the other ones out to destroy the world. What about that is a mistake? Sure, Crowley was a bit of a snake, but come on. It can’t have been so long that you’ve forgotten your good intentions.”

Cas didn’t say a word, and Balthazar narrowed his eyes. “How long has it been, Cas?”

Cas sighed. “Nine years.”

“Nine years.” Balthazar’s eyebrows had shot all the way up. “Wow. Not long at all. So what could… no. Tell me you weren’t.”

Castiel frowned. “Weren’t what?”

“Weren’t still kissing the Winchesters’ asses for the whole nine years.”

“They’re my friends, Balthazar.”

“Oh, really?” Balthazar crossed his arms. “If they’re your friends, why did they treat you like one of the guns they keep in the trunk of their wretched car?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it, Cas?” Balthazar sighed, backing down a little. Nine years of death wouldn’t stop them from bickering, it seemed, though he did put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. An uncharacteristic attempt to show solidarity through the sarcasm.

“Look,” Balthazar continued. “What you do is your business, but… just tell me there was something good in those years. That it wasn’t just you running around trying to prove yourself to them.”

There was something, in fact, something he’d never expected. Something beautiful.

“I had a son,” he admitted. He’d often wondered what Jack would be like meeting angels that weren’t hell-bent on killing him. He’d imagined Jack meeting Balthazar, or Hannah, or Rachel or Samandriel, but it would never come to fruition. The best he would get was telling them about him, assuming he would be able to escape being choked and stretched and drowned by the depths of the Empty for all eternity.

“Why, Cassie, I’m impressed,” Balthazar said wryly. Oh no. Before Cas could interject and explain, Balthazar continued. “Looks like you really did get that stick out of your ass. And you put it right up-”

“Balthazar! He’s not mine, not like that. He chose me, and his mother was a friend. That’s all.”

Balthazar seemed to enjoy how flustered he was, but his tone was serious. “You adopted a human child?”

“No, he’s a nephilim.”

“Ah,” Balthazar said. “So they changed the rules regarding them in the past nine years, then?”

“No,” Cas said again, getting frustrated. He’d forgotten how much Balthazar loved to hear himself speak. Even if he had missed it, it was still mildly insufferable.

“Well, you rebel Cas, you. But, ah- who was the sire?”

Cas winced. “Lucifer.”

“Oh, my. That is unfortunate.”

“Yeah. Jack’s nothing like him, though. He’s… he’s very much like his mother. And I like to think he’s a little bit like me, too.”

Balthazar looked at him, somehow still reading him like a book after all this time.

“You spoil the poor child, don’t you?”

“I most certainly do not,” Cas huffed.

“Oh, yes you do. You’ve always been soft, but now you’re practically a down pillow.”

Cas’ smile was sadder, again. “I told you I’ve changed.”

“Maybe so. But we haven’t.”

“Thank you.”

Balthazar smiled. “I do have one question though, Cas.”

“Of course.”

“How did you die?”

Well. He supposed it would have had to be asked eventually. Unfortunately his hesitation gave Balthazar another opportunity to talk over him.

“Please don’t tell me it was for the Winchesters.”

“I love them.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. And unfortunately I love that about you. Well, go on. Tell me a story.”

Cas shrugged. “I made a deal with the Empty. My life for Jack’s, which- it wasn’t even a question. It said that when I was finally happy, it would take me.”

Balthazar frowned. “What did you in?”

“You know, I’m not really sure. But I managed to save Dean, and that’s all that matters.”

“Oh, Cas,” Balthazar muttered, sounding deeply sad. “Well, at least you were clearly a better father than our dear old absent God. That much is clear.”

Cas’ heart sank. He couldn’t not tell him, though he didn’t necessarily want to break the news.

“Balthazar.”

“What?”

“Um. A lot has happened since I’ve last seen you, and there’s a lot you need to know, but God- God was never on our side.”

--------

They walked aimlessly through the Empty, keeping aware for signs of their siblings or the Shadow, but oddly finding none.

“Well then,” Balthazar said, flippant as ever. Cas was nearly sure he was deflecting.

“That’s all you have to say? You’re not angry?”

“Nope.” Forced cheerfulness. “Never liked him anyway. Frankly, I’m surprised you even met the man.”

Cas paused and stopped moving, feeling something tugging at his grace.

“Cas, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Balthazar had stopped too, hovering closer.

A pocket of the nothingness in front of them seemed to pull itself inward, caving in like a black hole and then cracking open just a bit. Was this what it looked like when someone died and came to the Empty?

Hopefully not, because the distortion cleared and Jack was standing there. And it was painfully, obviously Jack, clearly indicated by everything from his posture to the grace Cas could feel reaching for his own.

Balthazar stiffened, preparing for a fight, but the minute Jack caught sight of Castiel the angel found himself with an armful of nephilim. He held on tight, feeling Jack trembling slightly.

Having connected the dots, Balthazar caught his eye over Jack’s shoulder and mouthed “down pillow.” Cas shook his head slightly, but turned his attention back to his son.

“Jack? Are you-”

“I’m getting you out, Cas,” Jack said, pulling back. “We’re both getting out of here.”

Balthazar’s stricken expression tugged at Cas’ heart.

“Just me?” Cas asked.

Jack’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The other angels are awake, Jack. Can you…”

“I… maybe. But, Cas, I don’t… I don’t know them. Why…”

“It’s alright if you can’t,” Cas assured. “But if we can help them somehow, be that bringing them back or putting them to sleep… I need to try to make things right.”

Jack nodded. “I’ll try to help.”

Cas smiled at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Thank you. And thank you for coming to get me.”

“Of course. I missed you,” Jack said, eyes wide. Cas felt something else inside him twisting.

Balthazar cleared his throat, and Cas gently turned Jack around to face the third member of their party.

“Jack, this is Balthazar. He’s a good friend.”

Jack and Balthazar looked at each other, Jack frowning and Balthazar smirking in a horribly misguided attempt to be friendly. The silence stretched on, utterly deafening. Jack broke it first.

“I… I met an alternate universe version of you that was not very nice.”

Balthazar didn’t miss a beat.

“Well, you know what they say. Don’t judge an angel by their alternate universe counterparts, right?”

That got a bit of a smile out of Jack, though he was still wary. Cas couldn’t blame him, so he kept in contact to keep him at ease.

“We need to find the Shadow. Make an arrangement so that we can take a few angels with us and the Empty goes back to peace and quiet,” Jack said. The self-assuredness was clearly a front, but somehow Cas felt as if he’d have time to help Jack through it.

“Okay,” he said, nodding at Jack. Jack nodded back, and the three of them started walking. Into what, they didn’t know.

But Castiel had the strangest feeling that it was all going to turn out alright.

#castiel #balthazar #spn #asks #prompts #napsterofficial #winchester critical #<bc of balthazar lmao #other prompts I am getting to y’all soon I promise!!#kitkat writes

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writingithink · 4 years ago

Text

Improbable Multiversal Transcending Temporal Spacetime Event Pairing: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Rated: T Word Count: 7,101 Summary: The best way to show someone you care is to blow up their job ... right? Notes: I'm back! And it's not a Tangled Timelines update (sorry!) But it is something? I've had this in my WIPs for awHILE now, and when I was cleaning my studio the other night I found a planning page for it in a random tote bag and was like ... oh yeah. And the ending just came to me and I love it when that happens. Hopefully there will be another chapter up for Tangled Timelines soon, though!

As always, infinite thanks to my wonderful beta, @hey-there-juliet who is fine with me randomly sending her fics at all hours and with no warning XP

All mistakes are mine, as always.

<<READ IT ON AO3>>

If the other him in the other universe had taken the time to imagine their human life together in a parallel universe, the Doctor doubted he would have pictured this. His imagination, when it came to Rose Tyler, was always quite whimsical. Happiness had made him impractical, really. Because despite all of the drawbacks, all of the reasons he currently loathed himself, the Doctor knew every single reason why the other truly felt like this was the best possible option.

But maybe it wasn’t.

Sometimes, despite it not occurring too often, he was wrong.

They had spent five and a half hours on the beach at Bad Wolf Bay.

(I create myself.)

She had been so upset; said that after everything they’d went through, everything she did to get back, the other him owed her a proper goodbye. She had stopped speaking to him when he told her that, actually, he would never give her a proper goodbye.

And she didn’t let him explain why. Now that he finally could.

Now it had been 57 days since she’d last spoken to him. Since he’d gotten more than a brief glimpse of her with his own eyes. That he’d spent piecing together a picture of what her life had been like here, without him. Such a short time, really, now that it was over (almost over), but yet also some of the worst moments of his entire existence.

It seemed fair that the multiverse would demand just that extra sequence of pain, considering everything he could potentially get in return. What another version of himself could only hope for, bitterly gambling eternities, following their timeline through all of it’s complicated swirls and turns, names weaving around each other, stamping themselves on the structure of creation.

Forever isn’t something that ends.

(How long are you going to stay with me?)

Quite the opposite, actually. And he knew, eventually, she would remember that. Knew it, but didn’t feel it.

The Doctor finally understood what all of the human writers meant about falling in love. Not just the terrifying sensation of the unstoppable freefall, but also the immense pain of crashing into the immovable object at the end of the journey.

They had sat on opposite ends of a Zeppelin. He had gone back to the Tyler Manor with Jackie, and Rose had gone back to her flat. Hoping to see her, talk to her, he had immediately joined Torchwood (once they agreed to his very detailed, highly specific, entirely ironclad contract). Their paths rarely crossed, and when they did it was just tiny, insubstantial moments.

A flash of her at the far end of a hall. Her name in a report (a lot of reports). Snatches of her voice, there one moment and gone the next.

It all made everything hurt so much more, somehow, having her so close but yet further than he could have possibly imagined.

But yet …

His imagination, when it came to Rose Tyler, was still quite whimsical. So when he tried to think of the bigger picture, waxing poetic, alone on his office couch, the Doctor tried to look at the last few years as the impact, and this as the aftershock. Still, philosophical jaunts weren’t exactly a solution to his problem. A temporary solution was moving his office even further away, so that’s what he did.

Plus, he found it kind of fitting, commandeering the inside of Big Ben. UNIT may have it in the prime universe, but in this universe he had the fancy landmark office. Well, office-slash-home (without Rose Tyler, a proper house with doors and things was absolutely unthinkable). Not that it was just about having a private laugh. The gears soothed him, the sound of ticking helped the gnawing emptiness that had filled his mind ever since the TARDIS dematerialized without him in it. The Doctor had thought it was kind of fitting - the closest he could possibly be right now to time.

Not that he wasn’t spending every possible spare moment working on the baby TARDIS, just a tiny piece of coral still, currently sitting in the extended electro-percussive environment chamber. He wondered if, in three years (his best-possible projected timetable), when the new TARDIS would be ready for flight, she would still not be speaking to him.

Incidentally, the emergence of that thought and the start of his supposed ‘self-isolation’ coincided to an alarming degree for how coincidental the two really were. The fact of the matter was, he was busy. Tons of experiments to run, alien equipment to identify, classify (and more often than not remove from Torchwood entirely), a baby TARDIS to tend to, and a backlog of Rose’s mission reports to hack into made spending slightly over three weeks in his tower easy.

The problem was the fact that during that time the Doctor avoided sleeping, barely remembered to eat, and existed on overly sugared tea alone. Not sleeping didn’t put the demons at bay, but at least when he was awake he wasn’t forced to confront the man he never wanted to remember being.

It had been 57 days since Rose Tyler had last spoken to him, and the Doctor detonated a bomb in the abandoned annex Torchwood had scheduled to be demolished and rebuilt.

Then the counter reset to zero.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” she yelled, barging into the top floor lab where he had been checking the readings on the EEPEC.

Everything that he wanted to say to her, and the Doctor was struck mute.

“Whatever plans you think you have, however good of an idea it is, for the good of the planet or, or the galaxy or what, you don’t just go blowing up buildings without a word to anyone! Do you know that everyone else was too scared to come up here and have a word with you, because that highly confidential ridiculous contract you drew up made its way through the gossips and isn’t so classified anymore. Now no one wants to go toe to toe with the man who ‘speaks for the planet’,” Rose growled through the air quotes. “So tell me, Doctor, what genius reason you’ve got for blowing up the Records Annex?”

A slow smile spread across his face.

“It worked.”

“What?”

“Remember ‘run’?” he asked, bouncing away from the baby TARDIS and circling her, picking up his new sonic screwdriver as he did and deadlock sealing the only door off the floor.

“Run?” she frowned as he circled back.

“Run,” he whispered in her ear as he passed, running up a small set of stairs to flip a giant switch that activated the clock-lights outside of their automated timer. Likely no one noticed outside with the sun still out, but it lit up the lab. “Henrik’s basement, Nestene Consciousness, shop window dummies, you and me. How did that night end?” he asked, with a manic grin as he skidded to a stop in front of her.

“Oh, that ‘run’,” Rose breathed, trying to fight back a smile. “You blew up my job.”

“I blew up your job.”

She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes, and crossed her arms. His shoulders fell, exhaustion pressing down onto each and every bone of his new, much more fragile body.

“I just want to talk,” he told her, only a moment away from begging.

“Alright then. Talk.”

Everything he wanted to say to her, and all of it felt disjointed in his overtired mind. Yet she was here now, and if she left he didn’t have a new idea for getting her back again. So he talked.

“I’m sorry. That I made this choice for you, even if it was technically a different me who did it. I’m sorry that this is the best option, the safest option. I’m sorry I never got the chance to explain everything to you before. But I am never going to say goodbye to you, Rose. Never. And I know that the power of words doesn’t translate as well for you, the science of psycho-kinetic-telepathic influence on the elements of creation. But there are some things I can never risk saying aloud. There are some beings that exist, at least in our original universe, that could easily- … still, no matter what universe we’re in, I’m never going to say it. Forever, Rose Tyler. It’s longer than you can comprehend. An eternal silence stretching infinitely ahead, timelines swirling in every direction. This one is ours, if you’ll- if you could just- if you could see in twenty-odd dimensions and focused on individual temporal waveforms, the quantum reality of specific-”

“Doctor!” she shouted when his legs gave out, immediately grabbing hold of him, joining him on the floor.

“I’m fine,” he insisted, but when he moved to get back up she easily held him down. Rose gently manipulated his face, giving him a basic medical check. He couldn’t help but smile a little at how much she had learned while they were away, only to then frown at how hard he imagined it all must have been for her. Floundering, he tried to make a joke. “So, I’m still the Doctor?”

Which went ignored.

“You look like a wreck,” she told him, and it wasn’t new information. The Doctor now made much more frequent trips to the restroom and was well aware of how pale he was, of the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He had at least been making a disjointed effort to shave, which was another activity that had increased with his meta crisis, and admittedly it had slipped his mind for a couple days.

“It’s not easy, doing this without you,” he admitted. “But if you need more time, I want you to take it. I really am alright. There’s just so much I need to tell you, now that I can.”

“What do you mean, ‘now that you can’?”

“Different universe, firm walls in between. I don’t have to worry about using the wrong words at the wrong time and having cosmic consequences … for a lot of things, not all things. With our timeline in a different dimension and reality back as it should be, at least for the moment, I can tell you all sorts of things. Though the most important one, the one I’m never going to miss an opportunity to say, is that I love you, Rose Tyler. Forever.”

“I love you, too,” she sighed, caressing his cheek for a moment before helping him up. “But I’m still mad at you. Now you need sleep.”

“But I’m not done talking,” the Doctor complained, dragging his feet as she led him over to the sofa in the corner.

“We’ll talk more after you’ve gotten some rest, okay? I promise.”

“Thank you,” he sighed, more horizontal than he remembered being just a moment ago. Something soft and warm ensconced his body. He hadn’t realized how cold he had been until just then.

Another breath and black oblivion overtook him. Peaceful until it suddenly very much wasn’t.

A shockwave. A rift in time and space. A breached void. A crack in reality. A big red button. No more. Howling, howling, howling.

“Wake up!”

His eyes snapped open.

He didn’t know where he was. Nothing felt right; not the air, not time, not even his own body. The Doctor tried to do a quick systems check, and the results were all wrong. His hand flew to his chest, where only one heart was beating.

A choking scream echoed through the space, which seemed to be tick tick ticking, and he didn’t realize that it was him who shouted until soothing hands were brushing through his hair. Vision focusing, he saw Rose Tyler kneeling next to him, or at least it was something that looked like Rose Tyler. She felt too cool. Or maybe he was too warm.

“Are you real?” he asked, hoping that she wouldn’t lie to him.

Just one heart working, and it was beating too fast, refusing to slow down. The air was too thick, he couldn’t breathe.

“Yeah.” A sad smile. “I’m real.”

The Doctor didn’t know if he believed her, closing his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to see the moment she inevitably vanished. “I’m dying,” he told the being-who-might-be-Rose as he shuddered and collapsed back onto some sort of sofa.

“You’re fine,” she lied, but it was a lie she seemed to believe.

“Only got one heart beating,” he admitted, trying to get his breathing under control as his malfunctioning body began to sweat. The room ticked away, and he wondered if all of this was about to explode, if he should be running, if he even could run. His legs felt like lead. So did his arms. The air was too thick, dragging him down.

“That’s-”

The Doctor shut his eyes tighter, tears escaping that he hadn’t even realized were there. She must have vanished, just like he knew she would. And if she was never real to begin with, why did it have to hurt so much for her to go?

A weight rested on top of him, and he would never forget the feel of her. He vaguely wondered what it meant for him, to be having tactile hallucinations. Olfactory hallucinations. Even the buzz of time that had never left her skin after she took in the vortex was present.

“You’ve still got two beating,” Rose whispered as his arms wrapped around her in a tight hold that didn’t feel nearly strong enough to keep her. He wasn’t strong enough to keep her.

Her heart beat steadily over where his right heart had failed.

“I’m scared,” the Doctor admitted, eyes still closed though it was oddly easier to breathe.

“I’ve got you.”

“Please be real,” he whimpered, even as his mind grew foggier.

She said something, but he didn’t know what. Everything was fading away, darkness becoming darker, becoming void.

Nothing.

The Doctor awoke alone on the couch in his office. According to his time sense, he had slept for eighteen hours and twenty-one minutes. He felt better than he had in weeks, but also so much worse. He grabbed his pillow and screamed into it.

“What’s wrong now?”

The pillow dropped from his hands and his eyes locked with Rose’s as she raced up the slight stair onto the platform that separated his primary workspace from the rest of the top floor.

“What?” His voice cracked.

Rose Tyler sat next to him on the couch, hand immediately resting on his forehead, primitively gauging his temperature. The Doctor cleared his throat before trying again.

“Rose, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad, I’m so very, very glad you’ve come.” Her hand dropped away and he was able to get a good look at her, dressed in a pair of his boxers and one of his shirts (Jackie had bought him a ridiculous amount of clothes before he left the manor, all of which he sent out to be cleaned). He swallowed audibly. “W-why are you wearing my clothes?”

“‘M locked in here. Door’s deadlock sealed.”

Flashes of memories began to speed through him. Attaching a re-calibrated Tziklian implosion grenade to a newly-repaired retroreflective Clishtahrr drone. Obsessively trying to circumvent his vision in order to peer at his own timeline, making himself sick. A contained rift event in the lower levels of the tower that made him feel like he had looked into the untempered schism again.

(Run, run, run!)

“I’m sorry. I don’t … I’ll just …”

He pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, found his sonic screwdriver and unsealed the door. And he wished he hadn’t trapped her with him, even if he was starting to remember why (inky black terror crawling up his spine, wrong universe, wrong universe, wrong universe).

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?” she asked, following him as he went to check the TARDIS on autopilot, looking as if she was worried he would collapse (again).

“It’s coming back to me,” the Doctor admitted. Still had a good four hours to go before the shatterfry process would be complete. He straightened his shoulders, trying to stand tall as he turned to face her. “Things got a little, uhm, unpleasant. I’ll do better.”

“Unpleasant,” Rose scoffed. “I’m pretty sure you had a bleedin’ breakdown!”

“It’s been a difficult regeneration,” he deflected, turning away, leaving the platform and making a beeline to the tiny kitchenette tucked off to the side. Tea. He just needed more tea.

“So, this how it’s gonna be, then? All that stuff about wanting to talk, but now you’re just done?”

He nearly spilled the kettle with the speed of his turn, brows furrowed and mouth falling open. “What? Of course I want to talk!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Just, er, what did I say? Before?”

Memory was still a bit of a blur. Successful energy funnel for the TARDIS’ growth tank. Vodka tasting different in a universe without potatoes. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - past. No contact.

“You don’t remember?”

“I said it was coming back to me, it’s just not coming in the right order.” he sighed, refocusing on the tea.

“Well, what’s the last thing that you vividly remember?” Rose asked, moving around him, easily finding mugs and sugar and milk.

“Thirteen days ago, creating a temporal disruption chrono-field manipulator. Needed to siphon rift energy for our TARDIS. She needs a very specific growth environment.”

“Thirteen days?! Wait, siphoning the-” She leaned against the tiny countertop and covered her face with her hands. The only sound for a few moments was of the electric kettle quickly boiling the water. “Our TARDIS?”

“If you want,” the Doctor muttered, lifting a hand, wanting to touch her, but then thinking better of it. He clenched his fist as it dropped to his side.

Rose groaned as she turned back to him. “Of course I want that, you daft alien git! But you don’t exactly make things easy, do ya? I spent years getting back to you, and then suddenly there’s two of you and one of you abandons me just like I was always afraid of, but one of you stays and I’m expected to be able to process any of it? And then for weeks it’s an effort just to give myself space, knowing that wherever I go you’re so close, part of me wondering why I’m even trying to stay away when all I wanted for ages was to be back with you. Then suddenly you’re gone! I still know where you are, but there isn’t a chance that I’d actually run into you. And I still don’t know what to feel, but coming here yesterday, seeing you … I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so broken.” There were tears in her eyes. His nails dug into his palms with the effort it took not to wrap his arms around her, to wipe them away. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“It’s not. It’s my own fault. You haven’t done a single thing wrong,” he assured her.

“That’s not true and you know it,” she tried to laugh, but it came out watery. “I’ve been an absolute cow. And I still haven’t answered your question. You’d said some things about words being a type of science, and that you could say things here that you couldn’t in the other universe. Like you were paranoid, under surveillance or something? I think you tried to describe how your time sense stuff works, but you almost fainted.”

“Fifty-seven days without you and that’s what I was talking about?” The Doctor grimaced.

The kettle clicked off.

“If it makes you feel better, it was kinda romantic. The stuff about not saying goodbye and forever and blowing up my job.”

“Blowing up your what?!”

“That’s why I had to come here. You blew up the old Records Annex.”

“Riiiiight. That explains the drone bomb. It’s not like they weren’t going to blow it up anyway. Didn’t I help?”

Rose rolled her eyes before moving to fix both their teas. “We’ll get into that later. Right now I don’t even want to talk about us. I wanna know about you, what you’ve been doing these past two months. Because I didn’t even stop to think what this all must be like for you.”

Cuppa in hand, the Doctor led her back to the couch as he tried to think of how best to explain something that he barely understood himself.

“I was created in a two-way human-Time Lord instant biological meta crisis. Hundreds of years as one being, then suddenly two. Exact same mind, almost the exact same body, but different enough that I can barely comprehend existing in it. If you remember, the first forty-eight hours of the regeneration cycle are complicated and dangerous. Barely a few hours into mine I was dropped outside of the prime universe that all Gallifreyans are meant to exist in, cut off from all telepathic contact as the walls of reality continued to sway, slowly falling back into place. It’s been … an adjustment. Sometimes things don’t feel real, even when they are. Sometimes things feel incredibly real, even when they aren’t.”

“You had a nightmare,” Rose told him, placing a hand on his shoulder, thumb rubbing soothing circles through his layers. “I woke you up, tried to help. You didn’t think I was real. You thought you were dying, because you only had one heart.”

He tried to smile, and the action felt painful. “Sounds about right.”

“I’m sorry. If I hadn’t been so selfish-”

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I want you to put yourself first.”

“But I can’t stand seeing you in pain like this. What can I do to help?” she asked, a desperation in her eyes that he couldn’t bear.

“You’re already helping,” the Doctor sighed, finally giving in and leaning into her touch, lying his head on her shoulder. It was the closest he’d felt to time since they’d been left on that bloody beach.

Memories were still racing through his head. Energy coils radiating artron energy into a centrifuge. The smell of burnt flesh against the remains of a Bverni navigational system. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - future. No contact.

“The other Doctor said that you needed me.”

He laughed, but there was no humor in it.

“Yes, because he needs you. He also said that I was dangerous. I am. He is. We are. But you already knew that. It’s easy, you know, to yell at yourself. Not often that there’s actually a separate you there to yell at. I destroyed the Daleks, but we’d already done that before we met. In fact, so did you. The other me was lashing out, knowing what he would have to do but not wanting to do it.”

“That’s another thing,” Rose said, moving to face him, dislodging his head, “you said that us being here, in this universe, was the best, safest option. What was that about?”

“Something’s coming. Has come. Ended and began. There’s a massive paradox surrounding me in the other universe. Incredibly dangerous, potentially catastrophic. All I know is that it has something to do with a woman named River Song who claims to be my wife.”

“Your wife?!”

“I said claims. And she did seem to be telling the truth, besides the fact that what she was saying was entirely preposterous. My soul is entirely bound to yours.” The Doctor took her hand and squeezed it. “So I think I have an idea of the kind of man I’ll have to become in order to keep the universe intact.”

“What’s that?”

“A liar. If she is going to believe that I could possibly join myself to someone else, someone who isn’t you, I’m going to have to lie. I’m going to have to forget. I’m going to have to lie so well and for so long that even I believe the fiction I’ve created for myself.”

He wondered what the other him in the other universe would think, then, whenever he caught a rare glimpse at their timeline surrounded in gold, bound with Rose’s for all eternity. What kind of explanation he would craft. The Doctor shuddered.

“But that sounds horrible!” she cried.

“It’s the sacrifice he’s making for the sake of the universe. My timeline is dangerous and someone, something is tampering with it. You and I made one tiny little paradox and it almost destroyed everything. This one is circular, might be able to be maintained, but the scale of it, Rose. And who knows if it will even work. River seems great and all, at least I hope so, but I don’t think she has much of a handle on time travel. That, or she’s a manipulative psychopath. Suppose that’s a surprise for the other me to find out.”

Rose sniffled and he pulled her into a hug.

“He’s going to be all alone.” The words were muffled into his shoulder, his shirt growing damp with her tears. He cringed and tried to think rationally, that of course she would feel this way, that it had nothing to do with how she felt about him him. But then again, maybe it did.

“He won’t be alone. He’ll find someone. I always do, eventually.”

“B-but I-”

“We’ll figure it out. How to get you back there, once it’s safe,” he whispered into the top of her head. Maybe that would be it- what she needed this him for. And if so, it would be enough. It would have to be enough.

“Really?”

The Doctor nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“So it’s not- you really weren’t abandoning me here?” Rose lifted her head, eyes brimming with a hope that had been missing before.

“Never.” The word felt as if it was torn out of his very being.

She cupped his cheek, stubble beginning to smooth out into the beginnings of a beard. He really needed to shave.

“I thought you said to never say never ever?”

“That was before.”

It occurred to him that he had tea, so he took a sip - it had gone cold.

“Oh, right, all the, uhm, psychic-kinetic-telepathy science stuff.”

He opened his mouth to correct her - she was very close, though - but was interrupted by the ringing of the giant clock. It was heavily muffled by the sound proofing adjustments he had made while setting up the office, but still audible enough.

“It’s eight now, yeah?” Rose asked, even as she moved away.

“Yes.”

She walked over to his desk, where the Doctor now noticed a pile of her folded clothes sat. He frowned when she brought them over to him.

“Do you think you could sonic these clean for me? I’m gonna quick hop into your decontamination shower.”

“Th- there’s a proper shower, it’s two floors down. First left, third right, door marked ‘Security Level Alpha’.”

“What, really?”

“Didn’t want random lab techs using it. Has a retina scan. It’ll let you in.”

Rose laughed, ruffled his hair, and gave him a kiss on the cheek before disappearing to get ready for work. The whole thing left him confused. He went through his list again, checking and double checking to make sure that this all was real . It was, just as it had been all morning.

More memories. Recalibrating the tower’s new sub-basement weapon’s vault. Burnt toast and no more jam left. Reports saying: Correct universe. Wrong time - future. Contact made.

It wasn’t fair that she had spent almost an entire day with him yet he had missed most of it. Still, he sonicked her clothes, as well as his tea. Finished his cuppa, and then had a second before Rose came back from her shower.

“Why’s there no one around?”

“Dangerous radiation leak,” the Doctor shrugged. “I fixed it almost as soon as it happened, but apparently there’s ‘procedures’. How’d you get in?”

She bit her lip, fighting a smile. “Mighta shot a few of your doors,” Rose admitted, picking up an electro-pulse blaster off of a nearby cart. Non-lethal on organic matter. Very effective on fancy doors. “Nobody told me anything about a radiation leak, though.”

“Classified radiation leak.”

“And why’s that?” she scowled, hands on her hips.

“Everything to do with time travel is classified to this office. Bethany is not being very cooperative about putting you down as a liaison-whatever. Please believe me, I wasn’t trying to keep anything a secret.”

“Oh.” Rose glanced over at the EEPEC, absently biting her thumbnail.

The Doctor didn’t know what she was thinking, didn’t know if he should ask. After a moment she disappeared into the loo to change, promising to be back in a tick.

It was a funny multiverse, really, that his reunion with Rose Tyler would be such a stilted thing. That it would be about him and her, but not this him. Acknowledged with a few questions after his health, sure, but that was just polite. She’d always been compassionate, caring for others. Rose didn’t see him as the Doctor. Not the proper one. Sure, she used his name, but it would be easier for her to do that this time around.

He looked just like him.

He was him.

But he wasn’t.

Memories were still coming. Adjustments to Torchwood’s alien tech retrieval protocols. Nutrition shots. Reports reading: Correct universe. Wrong time - past. Contact made.

He went through the list again. Still real.

Unless it wasn’t.

Unless he wasn’t.

What would have stopped the other Doctor from knocking him out and uploading him into a matrix? Giving him a half-life with a programmed Rose Tyler?

The air here felt wrong.

(Wrong universe. Wrong universe. Wrong universe.)

“Doctor!”

(Daleks exploding. “What have you done?!”)

Pressure against his hands. Why was it so dark?

The Doctor opened his eyes to see Rose in front of him, pulling his fingers away from his palms. Oh. He was bleeding. Hadn’t even noticed.

“Sorry, sorry.” He spun away from her in order to grab the first aid kit from his desk.

“What happened?” she asked, vibrating with barely contained panic.

“Nothing, nothing. Things just got jumbled for a second,” he assured her, efficiently cleaning his palms and wrapping them in gauze in a practiced motion.

“How often do you-”

“Hard to say. I’ve been graphing them. Seems to be stress contingent, but generally decreasing. My senses are gradually acclimating to this universe, so I have to hope that once they do, I’ll be fine. Perfect. Molto bene. No inconvenient lapses.”

“Stress? What h- oh.”

He didn’t like the sound of that ‘oh’. The Doctor clenched his jaw before facing her.

“We still haven’t talked about us,” Rose pointed out, approaching him slowly. Like he was a wild animal. Like he would hurt her. “And you … you don’t really remember yesterday still, do you?”

“Not really.”

His hands hurt. His body ached. One heart, and it was beating so quickly that he was sure it would give out.

Rose wrapped her arms around him and he automatically returned the embrace.

“Maybe I should just call in,” she suggested as she pulled away. “We can just take the day?”

“Or don’t and stay anyway,” the Doctor couldn’t help pointing out. “Some bits have come back, and didn’t they send you here?”

She burst into laughter. “Oh my god, they did!”

And it was beyond words, how great it was to hear her laughing again. To see her smiling.

But …

That was wrong.

Rose was upset with him.

Time didn’t feel right.

The air tasted off.

Wrong Universe. Wrong Universe. Wrong Universe.

The Doctor staggered backwards.

His respiratory bypass was malfunctioning. It was like it wasn’t even there. He couldn’t get air into his lungs.

Everything went black.

There was a shot of gold, and then a different kind of black.

“Doctor,” said a whisper in the dark. “The timer went off for the TARDIS. ‘M I supposed to take her out of that thing?”

A TARDIS timer?

TARDIS … timer …

The timer for the extended electro-percussive environment chamber!!!

The Doctor shot up from where he had apparently been lying on the couch and ran over to the EEPEC, swiftly shut it off, removed the tank housing their baby TARDIS, and then poured in the pre-prepared aqueous nutrient solution before inserting the tank into the quasi-dimensional artron chamber (currently set to it’s highest opacity setting).

“Hah!” he exclaimed, punching his fist in the air and itching to switch the chamber’s outside view settings to transparent. He turned to Rose, opened his mouth to ask her, and then paused.

It all came back to him, all of it, not just the jumbled recollections he had been getting earlier. Apparently he had fallen into a healing coma, and it seems to have been just what he needed … but it all truly hadn’t been fair to Rose. Though, to be fair, she was currently smiling like it was Christmas, so-

Christmas. Healing comas.

Huh.

“Shall we switch it to transparent?” the Doctor asked, unable to reign himself in any longer. “It was clear when Benny - quite the coincidence, right? - helped me set it up. This is a quasi-dimensional artron chamber. It’s funnelling in rift energy and centrifuging artron particles, and the end result in that chamber is the specific environment needed to properly grow a TARDIS. Well, along with the chrono-nutritio aqueous habitat. Benny describes looking into it as being similar to taking DMT, which, by the way, is completely inaccurate. It’s exactly like looking into an Eye of Harmony. If it’s malfunctioning, it’s like looking into the untempered schism, which I don’t recommend. But everything’s stable now, we could-”

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to look into the vortex?” Rose interrupted, and …

“Right … erm, well ,” he hedged, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, it isn’t actually the vortex, but you’re probably not completely wrong. Best not risk it.”

Excitement abating, the Doctor slumped against the chamber and at that moment realized that he had been changed into jim jams.

Jim jams. Healing comas.

Huh.

At least these were his own pajamas, and not some ‘friend’ of Jackie’s, though how strange was it that he owned his own pajamas in the first place?

“C’mere,” Rose said, beckoning him back toward the couch, which she was sitting next to, but not on. Not your typical decision, but he had likely taken up all of the space earlier. “I made you some tea.”

It really wasn’t worth it, cataloguing the similarities between this and when he had first regenerated into this body … even though the list did seem to be growing.

“Perfect! Just what I need!” the Doctor smiled as he walked over, taking a seat next to Rose on the floor.

Silence fell as he sipped his tea, and he found himself unsure of what to do or say next. There was too much to say, and he’d certainly done a piss poor job of organizing his thoughts earlier.

“Feeling better?” she asked, after another moment.

Small talk. He could definitely do small talk.

“Mmm yes, very much so.”

“Better enough to talk?”

The Doctor coughed, having swallowed his tea incorrectly (bloody hybrid body, still acting up), before nodding. Rose moved onto the couch and he scrambled to join her.

“So,” she began and paused, face scrunching up in concentration (it was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one who found this whole business incredibly awkward), “I guess … what is it that you actually want? Aside from a working TARDIS, that is.”

His brows furrowed.

Sure, there were plenty of ways he could answer that question and have all of them be true, but he had a feeling that she was looking for a specific type of ‘want’.

Problem was, the Doctor wasn’t quite sure what that was .

“What?” he asked, in lieu of any better things to say (as the runner up response was to ask for some jam, or maybe a banana, or some of the takeaway from the shop down the corner and blimey, he was hungry).

“This whole time, all of it, since you c- since you were- since you stopped just bein’ a hand- ” the Doctor had a list of complaints and corrections that he barely held in “- nobody’s asked what you wanted. The D- the other Doctor chose for both of us, really, and I hadn’t really looked at it that way before. An’ I wanna know. What do you want?”

Removed from the actual experience itself (and therefore not feeling incredibly, deathly ill), visions of the slight peek he’d gotten four days ago of his own timeline played in his head.

The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand, weaving their fingers together.

“I want this.”

She smiled and gave his hand a squeeze.

“Care to elaborate?” she asked with a slight laugh.

“Nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Because as long as you’re happy, everything else is just- just semantics. I mean, obviously it’s going to be a bit dull until the TARDIS has grown enough for proper travel, but I think we can make do?” At least, he really hoped so. It hadn’t been going swimmingly so far, but the Doctor sincerely hoped that he could chalk all that up to the initial side effects of the meta crisis, compounded by all of the, er … technical difficulties he had run into while constructing the TARDIS’ growth tank. Also, his new hybrid body needed much more maintenance than he was used to, including sleep. Really was rubbish without regular sleep. Such a waste of time.

“So, if I were to suggest you moving into the flat?”

He opened his mouth, intending to immediately agree, but then frowned. The TARDIS was here, after all. And he absolutely could not move her. Not at this stage. Not until she could connect to other dimensions on her own. The Doctor looked over at the quasi-dimensional artron chamber, once again wishing that he could switch it to transparent and watch the process unfold.

“How moved in is moved in?” he asked once he forced himself to turn back toward Rose.

“You’d sleep there, shower there, eat some of your meals. Most of your clothes an’ stuff would be there. Y’know. It’d be where you live. With me. If you want.”

“And that’s what you want?” he double checked, trying not to telegraph his surprise - he must have missed a lot while in a coma, as last he knew they were teetering on the edge of a row.

Rose rolled her eyes, and that was much more in line with where he thought they were at, er, relationship-wise.

“Well, I don’t fancy living in a clocktower office. When I’m done working, I’d like to not still be at work, ta.”

She did make some excellent points … but still, it all implied that they would be staying together. And that was what he wanted, of course it was, but the Doctor still couldn’t help but feel he had missed something crucial despite the fact that he could now remember everything clearly.

“You blew up my job. ”

“I love you, too. But I’m still mad at you.”

“You’ve still got two beating.”

Maybe there wasn’t something to have missed. Human emotions were relatively complex, after all, and there was no rule requiring them to happen in isolation.

“Are you still mad at me?” he asked, realizing as he did that to Rose it was coming from seemingly out of nowhere.

This was confirmed as she blinked, brows furrowing.

“I don’t know. Maybe a little, but …”

“But?” the Doctor repeated, unable to stand the suspense.

“It’s hardly the first time we’ve had a fight, yeah?”

He nodded, unsure of where she was planning on going with this and hoping that he wouldn’t need to begin apologizing for every insensitive thing he’d said or done since they first met. It would take ages.

“Well, we always end up workin’ it out. And we did live together, travelin’ on the TARDIS, whether we had a row or not, so …” Rose shrugged, now examining her fingernails.

Speaking of the TARDIS, though …

“First things first,” the Doctor began, rubbing the back of his neck as he stood up and began pacing, “I want it on record that I would absolutely love to live in a flat with you, with carpets and doors and things. Assuming we’d spend much of our time traveling about, that is.” He turned back toward her, having paced his way back over to the TARDIS’ QDA chamber. “The thing is, it’s … I don’t want you to think that- the TARDIS. She needs me here. This is a critical development period. For the next three to six months, the TARDIS will be growing in the chamber, learning how to connect to and create dimensions. Until she can manage it, I can’t move her and she requires near-constant monitoring. Every hour or two.”

“She’s like a newborn baby,” Rose commented, getting up and joining him at the chamber, where she stroked the side.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I suppose this’ll have to do then,” she reluctantly … agreed? “As long as we’re living in the flat as soon as she’s moveable, mind. The bathroom here is two floors away.”

“It’s a clocktower, Rose! There’s only so much space.” The Doctor scrunched up his face as he said the word.

“Then why’d you pick this place? I know because of the Rift, but doesn’t it stretch further than just the tower?”

“Nope,” he shrugged.

It’s not as though he hadn’t checked.

“Really?”

“Small rift.”

“Yeah,” Rose laughed, “a small rift right under Big Ben.”

The Doctor laughed with her, amazed that he finally could.

Then he frowned.

It was all a little too good to be true.

Was this real?

“Hey.”

He refocused. Rose was right in front of him, their eyes locked.

“You were getting that look in your eyes,” she informed him.

“Look? What look?” the Doctor asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew. Some sort of dazed tell, some sort of glaringly obvious indicator that his grasp on reality was failing him.

“This look you get when you start thinkin’ you’re in the wrong universe.”

Wrong universe, wrong universe, wrong universe.

“Well, I am in the wrong universe,” he couldn’t help but point out.

“Yeah, I know. Me too. But y’know what?”

Rose wrapped her arms around him, and it was almost as if she were his tether, grounding him to this new reality they’d found themselves in.

“It’s better with two.”

#TenToo x Rose #doctor x rose #pairing: rose x doctor #timepetals #fic: improbable multiversal transcending spacetime event #fandom: doctor who #my fic

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