#bedlam replies

[bedlamsbard]

Hey, big fan, I loved your AU Star Wars fics, by far some of the best stories I've read. So when I saw the trailer for the new Disney show and saw Barriss as an inquisitor I was shocked, was this always the canon? I wondered if you were inspired by some SW novels or is this just a weird coincidence?

Thanks for reading, I'm glad you enjoyed the fic!

Barriss Offee has not appeared in any Star Wars media set after TCW S5 since "The Wrong Jedi" aired in 2013. On the Edge of the Devil's Backbone was written between May 2015 (began posting in July 2015) and October 2018, when the only media that existed that dealt with the Inquisitors was Star Wars Rebels, which introduced the Inquisitor (not yet called the Grand Inquisitor) in 2014 -- you'll note that in Backbone it's the Inquisition rather than the Inquisitorius, which is a name that canon didn't use until much later. Backbone was written so early that canon wasn't even using the Brother/Sister naming conventions that appeared in Rebels S2, which the first few chapters of Backbone predates (it started posting in the summer of 2015). That is the reason that Backbone Inquisitors use naming conventions that the canon Inquisitors do not: because it predates the canon naming conventions.

Back in 2015, there was speculation that the Seventh Sister who appeared in the S2 trailer that aired at Star Wars Celebration Anaheim was Barriss, thus leading to a brief period of time when the Seventh Sister and the Fifth Brother were known as "Barriss and Clyde" within the fandom, and for a long time afterwards people still called the Fifth Brother Clyde. The Seventh Sister when introduced in the original trailer only appeared helmeted, leading to the speculation that she might be Barriss Offee. When her VA was announced, there was widespread dismay that Sarah Michelle Geller might have replaced Meredith Salenger as Barriss, and at one point Freddie Prinze Jr had to deny that SMG had been recast as Barriss: that was how predominant that theory was. My use of Barriss as an Inquisitor came out of the original "there are more Inquisitors!" reveal from the Rebels S2 trailer but I made the decision back then not to make her the character that would later be known as the Seventh Sister since I was pretty sure canon wasn't going to do that. That decision was not based on anything that was actually in canon and certainly not on any of the novels at the time, because back in 2015 when I started working on Backbone there were only, I think, four new canon books out.

Backbone was, in fact, so early that when I wrote it, Cham Syndulla had not been re-introduced in Rebels -- the episode "Homecoming" aired in February 2016. (He was not actually revealed as Hera Syndulla's father until the April 2015 novel Lords of the Sith; it had previously been speculated he was Hera's uncle, not her father.) It was written years before Jedi: Fallen Order came out and revealed more information about the Inquisitorius, their recruiting patterns, or their headquarters; it also predates the appearance of the Inquisitorius in the 2017 Darth Vader comics.

All that said, it's not really a weird coincidence -- TBB also made Hera's mother green, for example, the same way I made Alecto Syndulla green. (This was more than a year before we saw that portrait in Rebels S3 (October 2016) and even more years before she was actually given a name in TBB.) That Barriss had become an Inquisitor was speculated as soon as the Rebels S2 trailer revealed that the Inquisitor was not the only Inquisitor. (He was not called the Grand Inquisitor in canon until the episode introducing the Seventh Sister and Fifth Brother aired in late October 2015, which by the way Backbone predates. He was introduced in 2014 only as "the Inquisitor," which is why and some older fans will still call him Quizzy.)

Backbone is nine years old. I started working on it in May 2015, even before "The Siege of Lothal" aired. Even though it wasn't finished until 2018, it was fully plotted by the end of summer 2015 and it predates most current Star Wars canon, because the new canon only started in fall of 2014, with the novel Star Wars: A New Dawn and soon afterwards Rebels. There was not much canon then! The Inquisitors were introduced for Rebels! At the time, there was nothing else! All of that stuff we now know about the Inquisitors? It came out well after Backbone started posting. (Hell, Jedi: Fallen Order not only postdates the beginning of Backbone, it postdates the end of Backbone, which was October 2018.)

#THIS FIC IS OLD #saltywolfparadise #bedlam replies #kanera agents of the empire tag #sorry this was loopy I was so incredibly tired

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: PART 24 of the Bedlam au!

X

The Bedlam makes no effort to pull his façade back into shape after the mortal has gone.

What's the point? She's seen clearly past his mask; the time for pretty words has passed. Time to abandon the carrot, and pick up the stick.

He approaches his marionette, its form having fallen still the moment he'd dropped its strings. Inanimate. Lifeless without his puppeteering, as it should be. He plucks at its strings, and again finds no fault in his weaving.

How bizarre, then, that two of his creations should act out – first the best friend, and then the cat – when he has crafted them perfectly?

The Beldam waves a hand, and the web sphere vanishes, combining with that on the Bureau mantelpiece to be a singular prison. It sits on a small display stand, and from the outside it looks like a strangely clouded-over snowglobe.

For his own entertainment, the shadow is only one-sided; its occupants see clearly the show he puts on.

He paces the Bureau, frustration prickling at him.

"A fine mess of it you've made," his first captive calls. "What makes you think she'll come anywhere near this place after that tantrum?"

The Bedlam pauses before the pseudo-snowglobe and, with another wave of a hand, it clears enough for him to see its diminutive prisoners. As far as collections go, a complete Cat Bureau is a pretty find. "Why wouldn't she," he asks, "when I have such irresistible bait as yourselves?"

"She's smart!" the white cat snaps. "She'll run a mile now she knows what a monster you are."

The Bedlam's smile near cracks his face in two. "Just like she wouldn't, y'know," and the Bedlam's voice echoes the cat's, "just blindly trust some button-eyed doppelgangers, would she?"

Both felines flinch.

"If you're going to talk about someone," he continues, "best not to do it where their eyes are watching." He inclines his head. "It could be considered rather gauche." His gaze moves to the cat Creation. "No words, Baron? Perhaps you're wiser than your companions. After all, you are the one who warned her that love makes you reckless."

The Baron holds himself still, rage pooling in those eyes the Bedlam never could replicate. His gloved fingers are curled tightly around the crook of his cane.

"What's the matter?" The Bedlam alters his face back into a mockery of the Creation's. "Cat got your tongue? I watched quite a few of your adventures, you know, and I'm quite hurt by this silent treatment. You're not even going to offer one measly little 'you'll never get away with this' spiel?"

The Baron's face doesn't shift, but there comes the tell-tale stutter of breath, the betrayal of a thought surfaced and then smothered. After the day the Bedlam has had, suddenly this – the failure to bait one pathetic cat doll into a reaction – is the last straw.

"Or maybe you don't offer such trite threats because this is the nightmare scenario you worked so hard to avoid – and all for nought," the Beldam hisses. If he's had a bad day, he's going to make sure someone else has it worse. "The fear that she would sacrifice herself to save the likes of you. You pushed her away – and in doing so, only hastened her fate."

"What makes you so sure she will trade anything for us?" the Baron asks at last, his voice low and edged. "For me, after our last encounter?"

Finally.

#bedlam au #cat writes #to shelby who went 'BITCH' last time in the replies #(presumably at the bedlam) #you're gonna be saying that a few times before this is over XD #posting this scene in two halves #so i have time to get the next one down 🤞

[seananmcguire]

I just saw a picture you posted replying to an ask of whether you are dating anyone and it's of you in your stellar gorgeous galaxy dress and Amy in a lovely blue striped dress and I didn't know that one of my favorite authors is also queer and I'm so happy I'm crying right now. I don't know why I didn't consider the possibility of you being queer after reading your wayward children books.

We have a friend in common, although I don't know under which name you know him (Bedlam Tom maybe?), and now I'm going to be jokingly upset with him that he never thought to mention that you are queer.

May every good thing come your way.

Blessed be.

I remember Tom! He knew me very very long ago, and may not have been sure of how I currently identify; my Wikipedia page mentions it, and I've given many interviews.

But yes, I am an ace lesbian (meaning I don't really do sexual attraction, and all my romantic attraction is toward girls), and am in a long-term poly relationship with a lovely pansexual woman named Amy. I love her very dearly.

She is a very tolerant professional fiddle player (and that is our friend Patty, who is also very tolerant).

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Hospital AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 17, word count 995

CW- Cuts, Animal attack, Bite marks

Sirius stretched across the gurney, carefully holding his cup of coffee so he didn’t pour the scalding liquid down himself. 

“Hey, James. How long have we been on shift?” He asked his equally prostrate best friend. James groaned as he lifted his arm to check his watch. 

“8 hours.” He yawned. They were on the night shift, and the cases were either dull easy to diagnose stuff that could have waited for a GP in the morning or total calamities. 

He raised his head to take a sip of his drink when his pager went off. 

“Damn it,” He cursed as he dodged the liquid that came flying out of the cup. “That was close. I almost marred my beautiful face.” 

“Come on, urgent call to A&E,” James told him, grabbing him and jogging down the hall. 

The room was utter Bedlam. People were shouting at each other. A nurse was carrying a handful of bloody cloth to the hazardous waste bin. More nurses were fitting IVs and monitors to the patient lying still in the bed. Nurse Evans moved out of the way, and Sirius got his first glance at what they were working with. 

In the bed lay a twenty-something young man. Who could have been quite good-looking but now had long gashes across his face, one of which sliced his face in half from the corner of his eye, across his nose and finishing just above his lip. Sirius sucked in a breath as he took it in. 

“That’s not the worst of it.” Nurse Evans warned. Sirius glanced down as his eyes darted across the rest of his body. There were more slashing cuts, and the soft flesh of his waist and abdomen had huge puckered holes dotted about in stretched-out crescent arches. 

“Are those bite marks?!” James exclaimed, moving closer to the man. Nurse Evans nodded. 

“His back is all cut up, same as his front. Whatever attacked him got him good.” She sighed. “Poor man, he’s going to be in a lot of pain and shock when he wakes up.” She handed over his notes to James and busied herself cleaning the wounds. 

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

“Do these look like dog bites?” He questioned as his fingers ghosted above the damaged skin.

“They look too big but definitely canine. Wolf, maybe?” James screwed up his face as he tried to figure it out. 

“There aren’t any wolves in Britain.” Sirius objected. “Where was he found?” 

“Er, notes say in the car park next to the—oh, for crying out loud. Next to the woodland park.” James scanned the text.

“Still no wild wolves in Britain,” Sirius muttered, only half paying attention to James. 

He grabbed some of the disinfection materials and helped Nurse Evans clean out the wounds. James began spouting off multiple tests he wanted to carry out and leaned over Sirius. Speaking quietly so only Sirius could hear him, he murmured.

“Be careful, yeah. I’ve seen that look before. Don’t get too invested.” Sirius shook his head. 

“I’m a doctor, James, I care. That’s all it is.” He lied. 

“Make sure it is,” James replied, knowing full well Sirius wasn’t telling the truth. 

Nurse Pettigrew appeared with his camera and began documenting the wounds in case it was a police matter. 

“Should I send these to a bite specialist?” He asked Sirius and James. James nodded. 

“Yes, that way, we will know what we’re dealing with. Send a couple of the slashes as well. I swear they look like claw marks.” Nurse Pettigrew disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared after taking countless photos and only disturbing the cleaning once to get shots of the man’s back. 

It took hours to get the man’s wounds cleaned and sutured. He’d had multiple scans, including a brain scan. To make sure he didn’t have a brain bleed. But he didn’t wake up. They weren’t worried yet. His body had sustained a lot of damage, and nothing in his scans showed any reason for him not to be conscious. 

Sirius’s shift had ended hours ago, but he stayed sitting at the man’s side. James had tried to convince him to leave. 

“Sirius, he’s a patient. You need to leave. Please don’t get overly attached to him. You don’t even know anything about him.”

“He’s all alone, James,” Sirius sighed. He already knew he was treading the line between a caring practitioner and becoming too personal with a patient. “No one has called looking for him. The police say no one matching his description has been reported missing. It’s been hours. How can no one be missing him?” James sighed at Sirius as he roughly ran his hand through his hair.

“I know, I know. Just be careful, Sirius.” He clapped his friend on the back and left him to it.

Sirius slept in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair. He kept waking up to check on his patient, but he was always asleep. Morning came, and one of the Nurses brought him breakfast and took the patient’s vitals. It wasn’t until the afternoon, a full 24 hours after he’d been brought in. The man’s eyelids fluttered. Sirius watched with bated breath as slowly, slowly, the man regained consciousness.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said in his most calming voice. “We think you’ve been attacked. You’ve got a lot of cuts, so I need you to keep still so you don’t rip any stitches. But you’re safe, and so far, no complications.” He realised he’d taken the man’s hand and promptly dropped it. “Sorry,” He mumbled under his breath. He watched the man wiggle his now free fingers. Sirius’s training finally kicked in. 

“I’m Doctor Black, Sirius. Do you know what your name is?” He asked as he pressed the call button. The man thought for a second. 

“Remus Lupin.” He said faintly. 

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Remus Lupin.” Sirius smiled at him as Nurse Evans wandered in.   

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar fic #wolfstar au #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius orion black #remus john lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #sirius and remus #remus and sirius #hurt remus #if you go down to the woods today #dr sirius #cw cuts #cw wounds #cw animal attack #cw bites #hospital au

[theetherealbloom]

WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 3 | 14th Doctor

Chapter Three: Guess The Space Was The Thing That I Needed, But I Miss You

Summary: You arrived on present-day Earth engulfed in violence and chaos. And a familiar foe who transcends the universe’s laws and logic. He hails from a realm where science is a game, but that salt trick apparently blurred the lines of reality enough for him to enter your universe.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance, Character Death, 

Word Count: 15.5k

A/N: Hello old friend, and here we are, you and me on the last… chapter. When I posted the first chapter of this mini-series I was honestly terrified of the response I would be getting. I hadn’t been writing for a while due to stress or lack of motivation. But then the miracle called the Doctor Who specials came into existence and here we are. Also, Merry Christmas Eve! Here’s my little gift to you. I hope you enjoy. (P.S. yes there will be an epilogue :>)

Song: This Love by Taylor Swift (Taylor's Version)

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

ENGLAND, THE STREETS OF LONDON — DAY, 2023

The world descends into turmoil and pandemonium as cars collide, their metal frames screeching against each other. The air is filled with the cacophony of people shouting and screaming. Amidst the mayhem, you, the Doctor, and Donna navigate the tumult, pushing Wilf's wheelchair through the chaotic landscape. Struggling through the disarray, people around you engage in fights and heated arguments, adding to the surreal spectacle of disorder unfolding.

As the rumble of a truck engine grows louder, a man defiantly strides onto the road, seemingly prepared to challenge the oncoming driver. Reacting swiftly, both you and the Doctor extend your arms, urgently intervening. You exclaim, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Excuse me. Can you tell me, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

The elderly man, with an air of self-assuredness, retorts, "I can’t drive."

Perplexed, you furrow your brow and inquire, "Okay, so— Which means?"

Meanwhile, a car behind you impatiently honks, prompting the Doctor to raise his hand, signaling the driver to wait. Unperturbed, the stranger in front of you explains, "I pay my taxes. Which means I paid for this road. It is mine, and I will do with it what I like."

The Doctor interjects, cautioning, "You’ll get yourself killed."

The man, with a sneer and a narrowed gaze, replies, "It’s my life, not yours." Undeterred, the Doctor suggests, "But you could just stand over there and be safe."

Flailing his arms emphatically, the man retorts, "Blame them! Because it all changed two days ago. Everyone started thinking they’re right all the time. And they won’t change their mind. If you try to argue, they go mad. Well, not me. I’ve always been right."

The deafening honk of the truck intensifies as it barrels forward, compelling the Doctor to swiftly seize you and yank you out of harm's way. In the chaos, you unintentionally collide with a well-dressed man adorned in a tuxedo, complete with a top hat and a staff in his left hand. Apologizing in a refined manner, he utters, "Oh, excusez-moi, madame et monsieur, je suis désolé. But perhaps you will dance avec moi."

He then takes the lead in an impromptu dance, placing his hand just above your waist and swaying with you amidst the bedlam unfolding on the street. In a rather peculiar tone, he utters, "Ooh la la."

Feeling uncomfortable, you gently pull away from the eccentric stranger. The Doctor, sensing your unease, protectively tucks you behind his body and asserts, "That's my wife, sir. Excuse me." With a subtle maneuver, he guides you away, back to where Donna and Wilf are positioned on the side of the street.

Amidst the cacophony of screaming voices echoing through the chaotic streets, the peculiar stranger continues his solo dance, creating a bizarre spectacle in the midst of the turmoil. The distant whirr of a helicopter above adds to the disconcerting atmosphere, leaving you and the Doctor with a growing sense of panic, a shared feeling of confusion about the unfolding events.

Armored vehicles roll onto the scene, their imposing presence and military precision contrasting sharply with the chaotic backdrop. A soldier, wielding a loud megaphone, calls out with urgency, "Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Attention, the Doctor and the Stargazer! Stay where you are. You are UNIT control. Repeat, UNIT control."

The soldiers swiftly move into action, their movements coordinated as they converge on your location. One of them confidently asserts, "Go, go, go! Let’s move! Eyes on, eyes on! I got them." The atmosphere shifts from anarchic confusion to a semblance of organized control as UNIT takes charge.

The authoritative figure from UNIT, Colonel Ibrahim, strides forward, a no-nonsense expression etched on his face. "Doctor, Stargazer, I’m Colonel Ibrahim of UNIT squad five," he declares with military precision. He gestures toward a waiting vehicle, a subtle urgency in his stance.

Donna, the voice of concern, steps forward, her plea directed at the Colonel. "Get him to safety. All right? Never mind about us. I want my grandad safe. All right? You got that?" Her words carry the weight of a granddaughter determined to ensure the safety of her grandad, emphasizing the weight of the situation.

Colonel Ibrahim gives an assertive nod, his military demeanor unwavering. "Yes, ma’am. We’ll keep your family safe," he assures Donna. Wilf, displaying concern for his granddaughter's well-being, encourages her, "You go with the Doctor."

Amidst the organized chaos of UNIT soldiers following orders, a palpable sense of unease settles over you. A feeling of being observed intensifies, prompting you to instinctively clasp the Doctor’s hand. Together, your hearts quicken as you turn to the left, discovering the stranger with whom you shared an odd dance. He stands eerily still, offering a disconcerting smile and a small wave, sending shivers down your spine.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Seated alongside the Doctor in the first helicopter, you peer out of the window, taking in the chaotic scene below. The city is ablaze, casting an eerie glow that turns the world outside into a disorienting spectacle, as if the very fabric of reality has been upended. The second helicopter follows closely, bearing the weight of the TARDIS, an emblem of hope amidst the turmoil. The flickering flames paint a surreal canvas against the night sky, leaving you with a profound sense of displacement.

The helicopter sets down on the helipad at the UNIT headquarters, and as you disembark, the brisk wind from the rotor blades whips through the air. Donna clutches her coat tightly, shouting over the din, "Oh, here comes trouble."

Shirley, in her wheelchair, wheels forward with a wide smile, greeting you with a warm, "I could say the same thing about you." The TARDIS touches down nearby on the helipad, and amidst the noise, the Doctor remarks, "Shirley, you can’t be serious." Shirley squeezes your arm in a friendly greeting.

Chief Scientific Officer Kate, your boss, appears on the scene, her short blonde hair bouncing slightly as she strides towards the group. The Doctor, arms outstretched, exclaims, "And Kate Lethbridge-Stewart. I remember your father working night and day to keep UNIT a secret. Look at you now. Out and proud defending the Earth."

Kate embraces the Doctor tightly before turning to you with a subdued smile, saying, "I fought them all. Robots and insects and yetis and clones. But what do we do this time, Doctor? How do we fight the human race?"

Inside the UNIT headquarters, the large steel doors close behind you, shutting out the chaos. The new HQ unfolds before your eyes, with the hum of radio chatter and the bustle of people. Multiple screens and tables with keyboards fill the room, and a triple giant screen at the center displays various statistics and news outlets reporting the devastation around the world.

Kate hands the tablet to the Doctor, and you lean over to peer at the symbols and graphs displayed on it. The Doctor, engrossed in the data, doesn't look up as he remarks, "Good, good, good. Now, what have we got? Are these worldwide? 'Cause I'm gonna need all of the statistics."

As he turns to his right, an exclamation of surprise escapes him. Your gaze follows his, and there stands a very familiar redheaded companion and colleague. She grins at the Doctor's reaction, and he joyfully exclaims, "Oh! That is the best news! Melanie, hello!"

Both you and the Doctor share a brief hug with Mel, who giggles and adds, "We'll catch up later. We haven't got time." You chime in with a playful, "Ta-da! Surprise, Doctor."

Turning to you, the Doctor asks, "You knew?"

You playfully roll your eyes and retort, "We work together, dear." Mel adds, "We also try to meet every Saturday for a cuppa."

Mel tilts her head slightly, addressing Donna with a warm smile, "I used to be like you. I was one of their companions." Donna gasps, exclaiming, "I wasn't the first redhead?"

With a shake of her head, Mel allows her large red curls to bounce, "No. That was me."

Donna awkwardly chuckles as the Doctor takes his glasses and wears them, quipping, "Although don't say companion. That sounds like we park him on the seafront at Weston-super-mare."

As Shirley pushes herself off the wheelchair, standing and giving Donna a look, Donna suddenly realizes what she said and turns to face Shirley, asking, "Is 'park' rude?" Shirley replies with a monotone voice, "Borderline." Donna winces in response.

In the heart of the command center, Kate stands with authority, her tablet in hand, and announces, "And stations. Gold Protocols. The Doctor and the Stargazer are in the room. Report."

Shirley adjusts her stance, her voice cutting through the air, "Two days ago, an increase in violence worldwide. The same increase in every country, all rising at exactly the same rate."

"Basically, every single human being thinks they're right and won't be told otherwise," Kate says, moving to stand next to you. Colonel Ibrahim adds, "That plane crash, the F665, Boston to Heathrow. The pilot declared his right to land wherever he wants."

On the screen, footage of the crazed pilot plays. His eyes were wide, he laughs amidst the blaring alarms of his instruments, declaring, "I'm coming home. Lookout, London. Daddy's coming home!"

In the tension-filled room, the Doctor initiates, "If everyone is going mad—" and Kate concurs, completing the thought, "So is the government."

Shirley, with a solemn nod, swipes on the screen of her tablet, unveiling footage of the current Prime Minister. He stands on a podium, his laughter echoing as he addresses the nation, "What do I care? I mean, seriously? Why should I care about you?"

In the aftermath of Donna's nonchalant remark, injecting a touch of humor with her observation, "No change there then," the room grapples with the unsettling scenes unfolding on the screen. The Doctor, now reclaiming the tablet, hands it back to Mel, who places it on her station. His gaze then sweeps across the room, and he remarks, "But you're fine. You're completely normal. And that's because of the—" He gestures towards the silver bands adorned with a glowing blue light worn around their arms.

Kate steps in to elaborate, "Oh, we call it the Zeedex." As the room processes this information, a robot's machine voice chimes in from the far left, connected to tubes and sporting screens, proudly announcing, "An invention of the Vlinx."

Taking a step forward, the Doctor addresses the robotic AI, "Hello, the Vlinx. I'm the Doctor, and this is my wife, the Stargazer."

Quick to clarify, you interject, "Not married yet."

"Just practicing," the Doctor playfully hums before turning his attention back to the Vlinx. With curiosity piqued, he queries, "So why's it called the Zeedex?"

In response to the Vlinx's brief explanation, "Good name," the Doctor emits a small, contemplative "Oh." Kate supplements the information, stating, "It disrupts the brain. Flattens the spike. Keeps everything calm."

With a slight scrunch of your nose, you inquire, "And the spike is?"

"I think I need to show you," Kate responds. Sensing a shift in the room, she commands Shirley, "Activate brain scan."

"Activating, ma'am," Shirley acknowledges. A beep emanates from the computer, and the screen displays the frequency inside Kate's brain. She points out, "That's my brain activity. Seems normal, albeit slightly heightened, given the end of the world. Now keep your eyes on the scan."

Kate moves to the center of the room and instructs, "And deactivate my Zeedex."

Shirley types on the keyboard, announcing, "Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, off." The light on her silver armband extinguishes. Kate takes a moment to scan the room, hands on hips, and asks, "Well?"

You gently interject, "Uh, hello?"

"Hello," Kate replies promptly, but her narrowed eyes betray suspicion. The Doctor poses a simple question, "How are you?"

"Fine," she responds.

You casually inquire, "Busy day?" Kate's nostrils flare, and she glares at you, retorting, "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm just asking. Is that a problem?" you reply, observing the increased spike in brain activity. Kate aggressively points at you, asserting, "It's an invasion of my privacy. In fact, it's an assault on my civic rights. And I think it's highly relevant that the person demanding information from me is an alien."

The Doctor turns to Shirley, nodding in approval for her to activate her Zeedex, and calmly says, "Okay."

However, Kate abruptly interjects, rejecting the Doctor's initiative, "No, no, no, no, no. I think you'll find that I'm in charge here." With a swift motion, she rips off her Zeedex, launching into an impassioned tirade, "And we've been infiltrated by aliens, a man and a woman with two hearts," she points accusatorily at the Doctor, "a man who changes his face and cannot be trusted."

As her anger intensifies, Kate aggressively directs her accusations at Donna and Mel, both with red hair, insinuating a conspiracy. You instinctively step forward, shielding them from Kate's escalating rage.

Growing more incensed, Kate turns her ire towards Shirley, who looks on with mild dissatisfaction. Kate singles out your friend and declares, "And as for her, in that chair. I've seen you walk. I've seen you walking! Don't deny it!"

UNIT soldiers move in to pull Kate away, and she unleashes her fury at you, "And you! This is all your fault! If you hadn't fallen into the bloody time rift, altering the universe with your existence and falling in love with the Doctor—none of this would have happened!"

The soldiers carefully escort Kate away, and the Doctor swiftly positions himself in front of you, protectively shielding you from lingering gazes. You bury your face in his shoulder as Kate continues to shout, "No, you can't stop me. It's about time you heard the truth."

One of the soldiers places the silver band back on Kate's arm and commands, "Activate Zeedex," resulting in a beep and the restoration of the blue light on her band. Kate sits on the floor, panting, as the tension in the room eases.

You lift your head from the Doctor's shoulder and nod, silently assuring him that you're okay. Together, you approach Kate, who is visibly distressed, covering her face with her hand. She breathes out an apology, "I'm sorry."

Both you and the Doctor shake your heads, reassuring her, "No, it's okay."

Gasping for air, Kate turns to Shirley, mortified, realizing the extent of her outburst. She says, "Shirley, I'm so sorry."

Shirley dismisses the need for an apology, "Absolutely no need."

UNIT soldiers help Kate to her feet as she acknowledges, "It's not just me. It keeps spiking inside every single person's head."

"But what does that mean? Is it being beamed in from outside?" Donna inquires. The Vlinx responds, "No. It is natural. It is generated inside the brain."

Donna points out, "But not me. Not Grandad." Mel adds, "Nor me. I'm wearing a Zeedex just in case, but I've been fine. Well, no more opinionated than usual." Donna sighs, "You and me both."

You and the Doctor ponder the situation, and he suggests, "Maybe long-term travel in the TARDIS put you out of sync."

Donna shakes her head and proposes, "Can't you give everyone a Zeedex?" Kate scoffs at the idea, gesturing to the screen behind her, where a late-night talk show host expresses her skepticism, "They're using this to control us and monitor us. And microwave our brains. I am anti-Zeedex!"

The Doctor, in response, asks you to help him with his coat. You take it from him and neatly place it on a chair. He then stands next to Shirley and suggests, "Can we filter this wavelength? Lose the background noise."

Shirley hums in response, typing away on her keyboard, "Uh-huh. Gives us a strong coherent wave in seizure focus. Peaking seven times."

As you consider the recent events, you voice your thoughts, "So, this started two days ago. But why then? What else happened on that day?" Kate responds, "Exactly. We've been looking for a trigger, and there's this."

The screen illuminates with the image of a satellite gracefully orbiting the Earth, accompanied by detailed blueprints on the left side. Kate elucidates, "The KOSAT 5 satellite, launched by South Korea, activated two days ago.”

Shirley, with a swift gesture, adds to the explanation by displaying a live feed of the satellite, which hovers 36,000 kilometers above Earth. Kate expounds further, “KOSAT is the final link in the chain. The world is now 100% online. From the highest mountain to the deepest valley on Earth, everyone is connected.”

"But KOSAT is clean. We’ve checked and double-checked. It’s not like the old Archangel Network. There’s nothing hiding in that signal." Shirley asserts, and the Doctor, with a contemplative hum, adds, “And yet.” He shakes his head, “For the first time in history, everyone has access to this.” He taps on the edge of one of the monitors, saying, “A screen.”

"What if it’s a tune?" Donna asks, prompting you and the Doctor to turn around and face her.

"What?" The Doctor inquires as you move to stand in front of her. Donna continues, "I know we’ve only got minutes left to live, but give me a second." Donna begins to draw lines on a clipboard with a piece of paper as she explains, "Because I spent six months teaching my daughter how to play the recorder till she said, ‘This is not who I am.’ That was the start of a whole other conversation, believe you me.”

She places the sheet of paper on the screen, drawing dots on the corresponding line, “But if… you look at these seven peaks, like this…”

She flips the sheet of paper around, revealing what you recognize to be music notes, and Donna confirms this by saying, “Maybe it's music.”

“A classic arpeggio. Middle C, an octave higher.” Mel says before she sings in arpeggio, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

“Oh.” Kate says as if she remembers something, and you look around to see others having the same reaction, as if they’ve heard it before. You and the Doctor look around and ask, “What? What is it?”

Mel repeats her tune, “La, la, la, la, la, la, la.”

Donna gasps, her eyes slightly watering and her blue eyes shining as she says, “I know that tune.”

“I-I know that from somewhere. What are the notes?” Shirley asks, spinning her chair to face you, and you read them off, “C, E, G, C, G, E, C. It’s a musical palindrome.” Then you sigh, “But it’s just a straightforward arpeggio. Everyone knows arpeggios.”

“It’s a basic tune. So, the question is, why are we all reacting to this one?” Mel asks as everyone looks around at each other. You and the Doctor frown, and he says, “We’re not. The Vlinx?”

“Negative.” The Vlinx replies promptly, and you hum out loud, “Just the humans.”

“It’s just— It’s so familiar. It’s like it’s been buried in my head for years.” Donna says and groans, “What is it?”

Then you hear giggling from across the room, a nearby station. You and the Doctor turn to see Shirley pointing to her screen, a puppet in black and white display as she says, “I found the exact same notes.”

The puppet begins to laugh in arpeggio, and you and the Doctor realize it at the same time. The Doctor says, “Oh, it’s not a tune. It’s a laugh.”

“It’s a puppet.” Kate says as she stares wide-eyed at the screen featuring the puppet.

“The giggle in everyone’s head.” You say as you stand behind Shirley, looking at the monitor as it continues to laugh in the arpeggio notes.

“What is that thing?” Donna asks, and Shirley explains, “Stooky Bill, the first face ever to appear on television. Put there by John Logie Baird himself.”

Donna shakes her head and points at Stooky displayed on the monitor, “I’ve never seen him before, so how do— How do I know that laugh?”

You blink a few times before realizing out loud, saying, “If the very first image has been hiding in every screen since… sneaking into your head, carving a wave, and waiting…”

“But hiding how? If there were secret pictures hiding in every television, we would have found it,” Shirley asks, so sure of herself and UNIT’s capabilities. The Doctor then sassily and in a mocking tone replies, “Oh, why? Because you’re so clever? Maybe Stooky Bill’s a lot smarter than you.” Shirley raises her eyebrows and puckers her lips, somewhat agreeing to the possibility.

“Imagine… if he burnt himself into television itself and every picture ever since, every single one.” You say before taking out your sonic screwdriver, pointing to one of the monitors, and clicking the button. It whizzes, and the image of Stooky Bill appears. The woman who sat by that desk pushes back her chair in shock, and he is mockingly laughing as you hear the notes in the air.

“Screen… after screen, after screen.” You use your sonic screwdriver, tapping on each station's monitor, revealing Stooky Bill as it continues to reverberate its laughs.

The Doctor joins in, using his sonic on an employee’s phone in their hands. He says as he clicks his sonic screwdriver, “And every type of screen.” The Doctor taps on Kate’s tablet, showing the image of Stooky Bill. He says, “Every one and everywhere. He’s inside ‘em all!”

You move to stand in the very front of the room, center, pointing your sonic at the large screens. “And two days ago, he finally connected worldwide, branding his Giggle into your brains.” The sonic screwdriver warbles, and images of Stooky Bill, along with his laugh, appear on the large monitor.

The Doctor stands by your side, adding in a low voice, “Since the very first existence of television. Laughing at the human race. And driving you mad.”

The entire group gathers for a small meeting by the large metal doors that lead to the helipad outside. You stand in a circle, positioned by the Doctor’s side, his glasses tucked away in his pocket. Kate tries to grasp the newfound knowledge as she asks, “But something at that scale, over so many years, who could do that?”

The Doctor's countenance turns wrathful, and you sense the heat and intensity radiating from his body as he retorts, "The puppet’s just a puppet. We’re looking for the puppeteer." He then pauses, taking a deep breath that puffs out his chest as he crosses his arms. Speaking with a low intensity, he adds, "And I’ve got a memory. I think something’s coming back… after a very long time."

Raising his voice to address everyone, he grits his teeth, "But it’s not only the giggle. Don’t go thinking you’ve got an excuse. The human race might be clever and bright and brilliant." His words are delivered with a hint of disgust, "But it’s also savage and venal and relentless."

The Doctor points to the screens showcasing people causing havoc around the world as he vehemently declares, "All the anger out there on the street. The lies, the righteousness." Jabbing a finger at the rest of the group, he continues, "That’s human. That’s you. That’s who you are. Using you’re intelligence to be stupid. Poisoning the world. And hating each other, you’ve never needed any help with that!”

He briefly pauses, toning down his voice as he says, “But today, something else is using your worst attributes. Playing with you. Like toys.” A chill runs down your spine as a distant memory starts to resurface, hinting at an old-time foe returning to wreak havoc. You blink, a hunch forming about who might be orchestrating all of the catastrophe.

“Can we take that satellite out?” The Doctor asks Kate, and she replies promptly, “All missiles are on lockdown, but we’ve got the Galvanic Beam.”

“What range?” You inquire, and Kate explains, “We could pick off a pebble on the moon. Trouble is, taking out a South Korean satellite will have international consequences, so we’ve been waiting for permission. All world leaders are being affected by the Giggle.”

The Doctor nods and says, “You have my permission.” He then looks to you, and you deeply sigh, nodding, “And you have mine.”

Kate nods to Colonel Ibrahim, signaling to get the Galvanic Beam ready. Then, she turns to you and the Doctor, “Thank you, Doctor and Stargazer.” Kate moves past you, announcing to the entire UNIT staff on the floor, “Gold protocol override. All staff, initiate Galvanic activation. Bring up the beam.”

“Platform in motion,” an employee's voice echoes through the speaker as the platform outside the tower shifts downward.

“Shirley, have we got the exact date that Logie Baird made that transmission?” The Doctor asks aloud, to which Shirley responds with determination, “I’ll find it,” and begins clicking away on her keyboard.

“All clear on the helipad,” another employee announces over the speaker as The Doctor walks over to Mel’s station, and you make your way towards Shirley, beginning to help her locate the date of the transmission.

The Doctor leans over Mel’s shoulder, and she says to him, “I fed the KOSAT fake coordinates, so it’s coming into UK orbit. Within range in three minutes.” The Doctor compliments her, “You’re brilliant.” He then looks at her with a smile, “Hello.” Mel replies with her own smile, the kind that reaches her eyes as she says, “Hi.”

You glance over to see the Doctor and Mel chatting as they work, and a sense of happiness and comfort washes over you, knowing Mel is okay. After a few minutes, you hear Mel announce to everyone, “Galvanic Beam payload boarding.”

“Platform locking at level 55,” an employee announces over the intercom, and Mel continues, “Galvanic Beam in position. KOSAT in range in 90 seconds.”

A beep emanates from Shirley’s computer, and your eyes quickly scan over the words before Shirley turns her head and says to the Doctor, “Doctor, Stooky Bill was televised on the 2nd of October 1925 at 22 Frith Street, Soho, W1D 4RF.”

You grab the Doctor’s coat from the chair and hand it to him as he says to Kate, “Fire when ready. Don’t wait for us.” He then looks to Colonel Ibrahim, quickly asking, “TARDIS?”

The Colonel points as he replies promptly, “Suite 17.”

The Doctor grunts, “Okay.” After putting on his coat, he grabs your hand, pulling you along with him as Donna says to you both, “You’re not going without me.”

As you enter the suite and find the TARDIS parked there, the Doctor quickly unlocks it with his key and rushes inside, with you and Donna trailing right behind him. Time’s running out, always running out, and every road you discover disappears under your feet. Because if nothing else, you're given a little time to change the game, a chance to redefine everything.

SOHO — 1925

The TARDIS whooshes and whizzes, finally giving a loud thud as it lands. The Doctor opens the door first, popping his head out to check if it’s safe before allowing you and Donna to step out into the dimly lit alley where the TARDIS is parked. The flickering gas lamps cast a warm glow, highlighting the cobblestone street and the faint echoes of distant chatter.

The Doctor announces to the two of you, “Soho, 1925.”

“So, what about Mel?” Donna asks, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the two of you. You let out a chuckle, saying, “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?”

Donna laughs with a smile, “Yeah, but I just kept thinking, all this time, you’ve never mentioned her.”

The Doctor addresses Donna with a frown, “Donna, we’re a billion years old. If we stood and talked about everyone we’d ever met, we’d still be in the TARDIS yapping.”

“So you talk about no one ever?” Donna asks, and you look away guiltily. Donna continues, “You just keep charging on.”

“Yes, because I’m busy. Like now,” the Doctor replies.

“But you are busy every second of every day. I mean, look at us now. We haven’t stopped,” Donna points out, and you all come to a halt by the sidewalk. She continues, “I saw you, Doctor. I got a glimpse inside your mind.” The three of you stand on the sidewalk, surrounded by the ambient sounds of 1925 London, as Donna expresses, “And it’s like you’re staggering. You are staggering along. Maybe that’s why your old face came back. You’re wearing yourself out.”

You observe as the Doctor contemplates her words, his expression revealing a momentary reflection on her insight. However, he doesn't directly acknowledge them. Instead, he smoothly shifts the topic, saying, "Stooky Bill might be on Frith Street, but the question is, where did Stooky Bill come from?”

His gaze shifts to the bright red shop on the street labeled Mr. Emporium above the store. The three of you cross the street, anticipation building as you peek through the window. There, you spot someone engaged in a playful exchange with the Doctor, both figures playing peek-a-boo before the mysterious man expertly hops down to conceal himself. The Doctor's expression tightens with anger as he forcefully shoves the door open, pulling back the maroon curtains, and the three of you step into the enchanting toy store.

The atmosphere is filled with wonder and a touch of nostalgia as you take in the whimsical surroundings. Shelves adorned with a myriad of toys, each telling a story of childhood innocence and imagination. The air is scented with a mix of wooden toys, plush animals, and the faint fragrance of freshly painted models.

As you step further into the store, your disbelief intensifies as you recognize the man orchestrating this peculiar encounter. An old foe, one who could have channeled his creativity for good, yet chose to warp reality into a twisted game where play meant suffering for others. Dressed in a crisp white button-up and a vibrant red apron, he skillfully juggles three balls, his voice carrying a distinct German accent as he addresses you, "Die ball is die first game ever being invented."

He throws a ball towards you, only for the Doctor to swiftly intercept it before it makes contact with your stomach. Without missing a beat, the Doctor tosses it away onto the ground. Meanwhile, the man behind the counter continues his mesmerizing juggling act, sharing his narrative, "Stone Age man, he picked up ein rock." The Doctor catches another ball skillfully, and with a nonchalant toss, sends it away.

The rhythmic cadence of his speech, accompanied by the mesmerizing flow of his juggling, weaves an enchanting atmosphere within the toy store. The balls dance through the air, tracing whimsical patterns, adding a touch of magic to the man's storytelling. With a gleam in his eye, he continues narrating, "He said, ‘Oh! Das ist ein Ball.’"

The sequence of throw and catch becomes a rhythmic ballet, each movement a beat in the peculiar symphony unfolding before you. "He threw it, und he killed a man," he declares with a dramatic flair, followed by a nonchalant toss.

Another cycle of throw and catch commences, and he recounts, "He said, ‘Oh, what fun!’" The balls move effortlessly in the air, and the ambiance resonates with a sense of playfulness.

"Und now, everybody loves the balls," he proclaims, the balls gliding through the air in a mesmerizing display. Every throw, catch, and toss adds to the building tension in the tale.

"Until the year five billion. When the very last human picks up the skull of his enemy," he declares, the tone shifting slightly, yet maintaining the captivating rhythm. The balls continue their dance, and he winks as he concludes, "Und said, ‘That is the final ball of all,’ jah?"

As he tosses another ball, the vibrant atmosphere in the toy store takes a sudden turn when Donna, with a determined air, steps forward and effortlessly catches the ball with a single hand. Her gaze, firm and unyielding, pierces through the whimsical scene as she asserts, "Enough."

The man behind the counter raises an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, Donna Noble. I wondered which one of you had the balls," he retorts, his words carrying a playful undertone. Donna, taken aback, attempts to brush it off with a casual, "Okay. So you know my name?" The man, still smirking, raises both eyebrows in response.

Curiosity sparking, Donna seeks answers. "How do you three know each other?" she questions, her tone holding a mix of suspicion and intrigue. In response, the Doctor, donning a low, stern tone and a deep frown that accentuates the lines on his face, issues a command, "Star, Donna, go back to the TARDIS." The urgency in his voice hints at a deeper concern, urging them to retreat from the unfolding confrontation.

Donna, wearing a perplexed expression, seeks clarification, "What?"

The Doctor, frustration evident in his gritted teeth, reiterates his command, "Go back to the TARDIS."

You, however, defiantly shake your head. "As much as I love you bossing me around, you do not get to tell me to leave you here with him." The tension in the air thickens, with unspoken concerns lingering between all of you.

"Oh, but he is recognizing me," he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You whip your head back to the man behind the counter, the one who revels in tricks and games for sheer amusement. Chaos and discord personified, he continues, "Are you not 'ge-pleased,' Herr Doctor und Stargazer, to see me again after so many years?"

Donna, finally seeking clarity, asks, "Who is he?" Flashbacks of memories flood your mind.

The Doctor answers, "The Toymaker." As the realization sinks in, the atmosphere in the room starts to change.

The Toymaker gives a bow, a theatrical flourish that befits his whimsical yet ominous presence. Abruptly changing accents, he addresses with a menacing tone, "We meet again, Doctor, Stargazer."

But just as swiftly, the Toymaker's demeanor undergoes a shift. Stepping backward, he adopts a German accent, prompting curiosity. "But think, if the ball was the very first game, what was the second?"

With a mischievous grin, he seizes both ends of the curtain behind him and declares, "Hide-and-seek!" The Toymaker pulls the curtain shut, his laughter echoing in the room in those distinctive arpeggio notes.

The Doctor vaults over the counter, deftly pushing aside the two curtains, only to discover the Toymaker's disappearance. Behind the curtains lies a door, and with a quick turn of the copper-colored knob, the Doctor reveals a seemingly endless hallway. Warm-toned lights bathe the corridor in a gentle glow, wooden floorboards creak, and numerous doors line both sides of the mysterious passage.

As the Doctor steps forward, guided by an instinct you and Donna share, the door abruptly slams shut behind both of you. Turning sharply, the Doctor commands, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Go back.” With a quick twist of the doorknob, it should logically lead you out, but instead, it reveals the same seemingly endless hallway. Donna, her mouth agape, exclaims, “It’s bigger than the shop. Don’t tell me he’s got his own TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is an idea the Toymaker would throw away,” the Doctor spits out with disdain as you three stride down the hallway. He continues, “We’ve stepped inside his domain, and it’s governed by the rules of play.” The Doctor turns to the door on his left, confidently opening it. Donna and you follow him, but just as the door slams shut, you find yourselves still trapped in the long, mysterious hallway.

“Okay. Keep going forward,” the Doctor instructs, stepping ahead with you and Donna in tow. Donna, perplexed, shakes her head and remarks, “But how does this even make sense? 'Cause I’ve seen some things with you two. I’ve seen Ood, Davros. I mean, the Adipose, for God’s sake.”

The Doctor twists another doorknob, taking a chance with the door to his left, only for it to transport you three back into the hallway. Donna continues, “But they had a sort of logic. Daleks built a great big bomb. I understood that. But this— this is impossible. How does it exist?”

The Doctor grits his teeth, growling, “That’s what unravels me. All the laws I cling to, gone.” He spins, opening another door only to lead you three back into the hallway. Moving to the opposite door, he finds it locked and slams his palm against the wood in frustration before pressing on down the hall.

Donna moves closer to you two and asks, “Who is the Toymaker? What is he?”

The Doctor turns to face Donna, explaining, “When I was young, I was so sure of myself. I made a terrible mistake. I let the TARDIS fall into another realm.” The Doctor opens a door, and you follow him as he continues, “A hollow beneath the Under Universe, where science is a game and all of us are toys.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath. "It's also how the Stargazer ended up with us, but that's something I will never regret." You softly remark, "A rift in the universe..." The Doctor quickly kisses your forehead, saying, "And it brought me you, my love."

After a moment, the Doctor struggles with another stubborn door, wiggling the doorknob in frustration. "I beat the Toymaker. I won his game, but now he's here. He's found his way into reality."

As he opens the door to the right, leading the three of you back into the hallway, he stills and sighs. "And I think it's all because of me."

You exchange a glance with the Doctor, shaking your head in disagreement. However, before you can utter a word, he cuts you off, his gaze intense. "'Cause I got clever, didn't I? I cast that salt at the edge of the universe. Thought I could have it all," he admits, his eyes locked onto yours. "I thought I could finally have you. I played a game and let him in, an elemental force with the power of a god, and he’s driven the human race mad with a puppet.”

Donna begins, “Yeah, but you always say—” the Doctor shakes his head and mockingly replies as he walks backward down the hall raising his voice, “Oh, what do I say? What do I say? What do I say?”

“‘Cause I’m always so certain. I’m all sonic and TARDIS and Time Lord. Take that away.” The Doctor says and defeatedly shrugs, “Take away the toys. What am I?” He chokes a little as his eyes glaze over, repeating, “What am I now?”

The Doctor looks to you and Donna as he offers a variation of the truth, “I don’t know if I can save your life this time.” The vulnerability in his voice echoes through the corridor, a stark departure from his usual confident demeanor.

Donna raises her eyebrows, her gaze shifting between you and the Doctor. “It’s not about me,” she asserts.

You meet Donna's gaze and respond, “Oh, yes, it is.”

With a nonchalant shrug and a deep breath, Donna begins, “Well,” and then she steps a little forward, flashing a determined smile, “Maybe I’ll save you, you big idiot.” Through the perplexing hallway, the chatter reverberates with a mixture of warmth and friendliness as you all chuckle.

"Anyway, you beat him before," Donna points out, and the Doctor wears a contemplative frown. "That’s the problem. Odd-on I’ll lose next time."

Donna dismisses the notion with a shake of her head. "Nope. Doesn’t work like that. Because my dad used to say, ‘Dice didn’t know what the dice did last time.’ Games don’t have a memory. Every game starts from scratch."

After a moment of letting the words settle, the Doctor nods with a genuine smile. "Oh, I like that. Well said, Dad." He takes a deep breath before suggesting, "Okay. Shall we find the right door?"

The Doctor swiftly dashes to one of the doors, opening them one after the other. You and Donna struggle to keep up, the anticipation heightening. Suddenly, one of the heavy doors slams shut behind Donna, separating you from her. Then the door in front of Donna slams shut, also separating her from the Doctor, the echoes of the closing door lingering in the air. 

You sense your fingernails biting into the palm of your hand, forming a tight fist as you strike the door with the side of your fists. An exasperated cry escapes your lips as you press your forehead against the wooden door. You shut your eyes, tears trickling down your cheeks. Slowly, you lower your hands to your sides, then raise them, placing them at the back of your neck in an attempt to regain composure.

You take a deep breath, letting the air fill your lungs before releasing it in a resounding exhale. Pushing away from the door, you continue down the corridor. A distinct pull guides you to a door on the right. Twisting the knob, you pull the door open and step into a room filled with standing mirrors encased in plastic frames. As you survey the surroundings, the door slams shut behind you, making you flinch and glance back.

Turning your head forward, you're met with various incarnations of the Doctor—past and present—alongside friends and companions, all staring back at you through the mirrors. Their gaze penetrates through you. The mirrors shift, forming two opposing lines, resembling portraits guiding you towards a solitary dresser and a seat. On the creaky wooden floors, you move delicately, feeling like a doll as the eyes of your own reflections track your every step down the mirrored pathway.

You eventually reach the dresser, and the seat smoothly pulls out from underneath it. Hesitant, you lower yourself onto it, only to find that your own reflection is not what greets you. Instead, it's the Toymaker, wearing a smug expression as he says, “Ah, yes, the Stargazer. Oh, how I’ve missed you, old friend.”

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrows, “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”

The Toymaker’s expression shifts to a sour one as his face scrunches up, “We were friends, we had such wonderful games in our little dollhouse until the Doctor stole you away from me.”

You shake your head as you say sternly, “He didn’t take me away from you.”

The Toymaker childishly rolls his eyes as he also crosses his arms, “Admit it. You were happy. Happier to be blissfully unaware of who you are when we were in our universe.”

You shake your head as you feel your eyes glaze over, pressing your lips, trying to steady your breathing. Softly, you spoke, “You were controlling me. You were trying to mold me into something… that had to be exceptional to be worthwhile.”

You sniff as you continue, “You never cared about me or any of it. You only wanted to play your games and win. And the one time I won… I saw your true nature and never let me out of that box.”

You gaze directly into the Toymaker's eyes, inquiring, “How? How did you end up here?”

He tilts his head and smiles, “The Doctor may have cast that salt, but that was just the door. You being here, allowing yourself to exist in this reality, my dear, you were the key. The Doctor merely provided the key, and voila. Here I am.”

The Toymaker shifts before he hums and then says nonchalantly, “Well, this was so much fun… us two friends catching up. We should do this more often.”

You narrow your eyes as you shake your head, “Don’t you dare hurt them.”

The Toymaker grins, “Well, what’s the fun in that?”

The room around you seems to blur as a heaviness settles in your chest, the weight of your choices and the consequences of your time with the Toymaker bearing down on you. The mirrors that once reflected various versions of yourself, your friends, and the Doctor now seem to mock your vulnerability.

Your face shifts to anger as you grab your sonic screwdriver, raise it to the mirror, and press the button, causing the illusion to shatter. There is no glass in the mirror because, on the other side of it, is you—freed from the false reflections that sought to define you.

You rise from your seat, hastening as the glass mirrors rupture behind you, fragments and shards soaring through the air. Grabbing the doorknob, you wrench the door open, hurtling into the hallway just as the door behind you slams shut.

Anticipating the impact of the hard hallway floor, you're surprised to find yourself enveloped in sturdy arms, the familiar texture of the Doctor’s coat reassuring. "Whoa! Darling, there you are," he exclaims.

Speechless, you encircle him with your arms, finding solace in the warmth he provides. He eases back, cradling the side of your head, and you yield to the touch, trying to ground yourself in the reassurance that you're still alive, still breathing. Life may have presented challenges, love may have left its mark, and certain experiences may have etched an ache in your soul, yet, you survived.

The Doctor scans your face and says, “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong? What happened? Did he hurt you?”

You sniffle as you shake your head frantically, “No, I’m just… I’m sorry.”

The Doctor frowns, “What for?”

“It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

“No. I cast that salt—”

“Yes, but since I’m here, in this reality. I allowed him to exist here as well. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

The Doctor pulls you in closer, tightly wrapping his arms around your frame as he asks, “Did he tell you that?”

You merely make a squeak as you nod into his chest, “It makes sense—”

“No. It’s— I refuse to believe it. I won’t.”

You began, “But—”

The Doctor pauses, his gaze softening, and he says, “No, my love. It's not your fault. Don't let his games mess with your mind. We'll figure this out together.”

You let go of your ghosts and your worries for once. It was just one step, but it said plenty. That you've been cut off from the outside world for such a large portion of your existence dawns on you. That you devoted so much of your life to a version of existence that was cut off from believing in the good and the beautiful as a means of survival, that you tried so hard to shield yourself from the love you so desperately needed.

You knew that you wouldn’t find a love that was perfect, but you found a love that was real. The kind that sees you and brings down your walls, that asks you to share parts of your soul you have tucked away and kept hidden from the world.

Suddenly, the creak of another door opening startles both of you, prompting a swift turn of your heads. Your heart skips a beat as you spot your fiery-haired friend. You exclaim, “Donna!”

“Oh, my god!” Donna exclaims, and the Doctor responds, “There you are!” As you eagerly move forward to embrace Donna, the room undergoes a rapid metamorphosis, transforming into a puppeteer theatre, with the Toymaker standing at its center.

Fanfare resonates in the background through concealed speakers as the Toymaker speaks in German, “Kommen Sie, kommen sie!”

Three chairs materialize from behind you, smoothly rolling forward and obliging you to take a seat upon them as they advance towards where the Toymaker stands.

"The show is just beginning. Worldwide premiere," the Toymaker announces, vanishing momentarily only to reappear behind the puppet theatre at the center. He addresses Donna Noble, "This is for you. Let me tell you what happened when the Doctor, he was leaving you."

Lifting the cross brace of the string puppet, he continues, "He met a friend called Amy Pond. And he loved Amy Pond." The strings sway as he manipulates the Amy puppet. "Yes, he be liking die redheads." A playful wink is followed by, "And they went to and fro in time und space."

The Toymaker's tone darkens as he narrates, "But Amy Pond was touched by the Weeping Angel. And she died." He grabs a large pair of scissors, severing the strings of the puppet, rendering it limp and lifeless.

The Doctor's expression turns grim and angry as he grits his teeth, "She died of old age."

Quickly shifting to an American accent, the Toymaker mockingly remarks, "Well, that’s alright then."

Continuing in his vibrant German accent, the Toymaker orchestrates the descent of a new puppet onto the stage, "Und then he was meeting Clara. Mmm." He adds, "But she was killed by a bird." Another snip of the strings leaves the puppet limp and lifeless.

The Doctor growls, "She still survives in her last second of life."

"Well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker replies in his mocking American accent.

The Toymaker continues in his vibrant German accent, placing another puppet on the stage, "Und then the Doctor met Bill." Strings are pulled as he continues, "Not Stooky Bill, but lady Bill. But she was killed by the Cybermen." With a snip, the puppet falls to the floor, lifeless.

The Doctor's lip trembles, jaw set, as he asserts in a raised tone, "But her consciousness survives."

"Oh, well, that’s alright then!" The Toymaker retorts once more in his mocking American accent. He then transitions to a new scene with stars and planets descending, connected with strings. Cutting the strings, he comments with feigned remorse, "Und then there came die Flux. Oh, Donna Noble, the poor Doctor." The Toymaker continues to sever the strings attached to the planets, remarking, "Die Flux was killing everything."

"Is all of this true?" Donna asks in disbelief, leaving you frozen and unsure of what to do or say.

The Doctor abruptly stands up, his gaze locked onto the Toymaker's eyes as he lowers his tone, the gruffness evident, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's expression drops, his nostrils flare, and he strides toward the table. The Doctor meets him at the other end, and they lock eyes, a tense silence enveloping them.

The two of them settle into seats across from each other as the Toymaker mysteriously conjures a deck of cards. In a refined British accent, he declares, “I accept the challenge.”

The Doctor retorts, “You have no choice.”

With an air of a magician, the Toymaker skillfully shuffles the deck of cards, his hands moving with deliberate precision. "I came to this universe with such delight, and I played them all, Doctor." The Toymaker lays down the cards in a line, maintaining his magical flair. "I toyed with supernovas, turned galaxies into spinning tops."

He holds the two halves of the deck and continues, "I gambled with God and made him a jack-in-the-box." Flipping the cards, he shuffles the deck, his eyes locked onto the Doctor's. "I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?"

"The Master was dying and begged for his life with one final game. And when he lost, I sealed him for all eternity inside my gold tooth." The Toymaker says, a sly smile accompanying the gesture to his shiny gold tooth. However, his tone turns grave and haunted as he continues, "There’s only one player I didn’t dare face. The one who waits."

Both you and the Doctor furrow your brows, and the Doctor questions, “Who’s that?”

The Toymaker's gaze becomes distant as he recalls, “I saw it. Hiding. And I ran.”

“What do you mean?” The Doctor presses, and the Toymaker shakes his head, “Mmm. That’s someone else’s game.” Placing the deck of cards neatly on the table, he asks, “What shall we play?”

“One request. Tell me,” The Doctor starts, his tone curious, “The human race, back in the future. Why does everyone think they’re right?”

The Toymaker smirks knowingly and replies, “So that they win. I made every opinion supreme. That’s the game of the 21st century. They shout, they type, and they cancel. So I fixed it. Now everybody wins.”

“And everyone loses,” you remark, your eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. The Toymaker smiles, acknowledging the truth, “The never-ending game.” He then turns to the Doctor, prompting, “Now name your challenge.”

“The simplest game of all. Let’s cut,” the Doctor proposes, and the Toymaker grins, “Highest card wins.”

“Aces high,” the Doctor asserts.

“You choose,” the Toymaker replies.

“I’ll go first,” the Doctor declares.

Then Donna interjects, “But he’ll cheat.”

You, the Toymaker, and the Doctor quickly disagree, simultaneously stating, “No.” The Toymaker's face turns sour, offended by the accusation, “Shame.”

“That’s the one thing he won’t do,” the Doctor asserts, and Donna points out, “But they’re his cards. He’s all tricks. Of course, he’ll cheat.”

You then explain, “The only rules the Toymaker follows are the rules of the game. They bind his entire existence. The Doctor wins or he loses, and that’s it.”

The Toymaker glowers at the Doctor as he says, “Then play.”

The Doctor seizes the top deck of cards, turning it to reveal the Eight of Clubs. A sinking feeling creeps into the pit of your stomach as you calculate the odds, not liking the prospects for the Doctor.

The Toymaker raises an eyebrow with a smug expression, “My turn.” He grabs a portion of the deck, turning it to reveal the King of Hearts. Gripping the sides of your chair, you feel a sense of dread as the Toymaker laughs, “I’m the King.”

Switching back to his German accent, he declares excitedly, “Und now, meine kleine Doctor, we will see what is my prize!”

The Doctor responds, “One… all.”

A light laugh of relief escapes you, realizing the Doctor had a backup plan in case he lost. Leaning across the table, the Doctor's words make the Toymaker's expression drop, “I won the game many years ago. You’ve won today, which leaves us equal. And you know two players are bound by one inviolable rule.”

The Toymaker sneers as he begrudgingly admits, “Best of three.”

The Doctor nods, “Best of three.”

The Toymaker purses his lips in annoyance, narrowing his eyes before saying, “Then let’s make it 2023.” He suddenly pulls a curtain from the side, quickly vanishing as the red velvet cloth clatters to the floor. The room transforms, and you hear the creaking of wood.

Both you and the Doctor exclaim, “Donna!”

Donna has already sprung from her chair, responding, “I’m already running!”

As you run, the structure behind you collapses in on itself, the scratching and groaning of wood as it folds in the hallway. Eventually, you make it out of the shop, running into the streets and stopping from across the street to see the entire building fold itself neatly into a box on the ground.

Donna points out, "He said 2023," and the Doctor responds as his chest puffs out a breath, "Winner takes all."

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, LONDON — DAY, 2023

Once the TARDIS had landed, you and Donna hurriedly followed the Doctor, who carried the box containing the Toymaker's shop. As you reached the main area of operations, the Doctor placed the red box on Melanie's desk and instructed, "Keep an eye on that."

Stepping up on one of the desks, the Doctor addressed everyone in a loud tone, "The satellite was only a link in the chain, so Donna needs access to the subframe. There is no one in London faster on a keyboard. She’s creating a template for this." He produced a flash drive and explained, "It coordinates all telescopes and satellites and deep-space scans across the Earth." Tossing the flash drive to Shirley, who deftly caught it.

Turning to the Vlinx, the Doctor requested, "The Vlinx, I need all mesh reflectors on Earth translated to digital five."

As Donna worked on the keyboard, Mel replied to Donna's question, "Dynamic. We’re using triad."

Donna nodded in understanding, typing rapidly, "Got ya. Okay, so you should all be receiving this now."

"How bad is it, Doctor, Star?" Kate asked with concern. The Doctor responded with a warning tone, "Something entered this world in 1925. I don’t know how. And I warn you, this thing can get from 1925 to now like stepping through a door."

He shoved his hands into his pockets and continued, "But if we’re lucky, the program the Stargrazer created can detect the decay of an energy signature from 98 years ago. Might be on Earth. Might be in orbit. Might be in space. But if we can find the entrance, maybe we can turn it into an exit."

"What are we fighting?" Kate asked, and you responded grimly, "An elemental force beyond the rules of the universe."

Shirley then inquired with a puzzled tone, "What’s that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor gave her a look and explained, "You think life is a balance between order and chaos, but the universe is not binary." As the Spice Girls' "Spice Up Your Life" began playing from somewhere, he continued, "Far from it. There is order and chaos, and then there is play." Pointing to the ceiling, he asked, "What’s that?"

"Could you turn that off, please?" Kate requested, and Melanie, standing from her chair, asked, "Who is that?"

The Doctor groaned, "Oh, I think he’s here."

The Toymaker entered the scene like a Broadway hurricane, dressed as a band leader with his hair curled and styled. A door suddenly appearing with the bell jingling as he strutted forward. Confetti popped, lights flashed, and the Toymaker lip-synced to the Spice Girls' song playing from an unknown location.

"When you're feelin' sad and low

We will take you where you gotta go"

The door materialized behind you, the bell jingling as the Toymaker stepped out, dancing and lifting his hat, grooving to the music. You and the Doctor stood there, unimpressed, wearing a fed-up expression.

The Toymaker, immersed in the infectious beats of the Spice Girls, continued his impromptu performance. With infectious enthusiasm, he teleported across various areas of the headquarters, seamlessly syncing his lip movements to the lyrics of the song. His dance was a spectacle of exaggerated expressions, capturing the vibrant spirit of the Spice Girls' anthem.

As the music echoed through the room, the Toymaker made flamboyant movements, teleporting next to Shirley. With flair, he held up a phone, lip-syncing passionately to the lyrics.

"Smilin', dancin', everything is free

All you need is positivity"

The Toymaker's energetic dance moves and lively expressions added a surreal touch to the otherwise serious atmosphere of the operation.

“Colours of the world

Spice up your life”

Teleporting with theatrical finesse, he continued his spirited performance, engaging with the song's upbeat tempo.

“Every boy and every girl

Spice up your life”

The Toymaker, a delightful force of whimsy, twirled and danced with infectious energy, infusing the tension-filled room with an unexpected burst of joy.

“People of the world

Spice up your life

Aah

Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front

Ha ha (uh uh)

Go round”

With each step, he appeared and disappeared, dancing effortlessly to the rhythm. In a sudden move, the Toymaker materialized next to Kate, seamlessly incorporating her into his lively dance. However, the exuberant twirl proved too much, and Kate, spun too fast, and collided with a wall.

Undeterred, the Toymaker vanished and reappeared beside Melanie, pulling her into an impromptu dance as UNIT soldiers point their weapon at him.

“Slam it to the left

If you're havin' a good time

Shake it to the right

If ya know that you feel fine

Chicas to the front”

The Toymaker spun Melanie like a spinning top, prompting your alarmed cry, "Melanie!" Both you and the Doctor rushed to her aid as she tumbled to the ground, the unexpected dance taking an unforeseen turn.

"La la la la la la la la la

La la la la la la la"

Kate regains her composure, brushing off her slacks with a determined air as she commands the UNIT soldiers, "Detain him!"

In response, a contingent of UNIT soldiers swiftly advances, attempting to apprehend the whimsical Toymaker. The Doctor's warning echoes in the air, “No, don’t!” However, defying the Doctor's urgent plea, the Toymaker playfully taps the soldiers, transforming them into vibrant, bouncing balls that clatter across the floor.

"What happened to them?" Kate urgently inquires, and you, wearing a grimace, shake your head, "They're dead. I'm sorry. Just stop it. Let me talk to him."

The Toymaker confidently struts down the center aisle among the stations, seizing the attention of everyone. Kate seizes the opportunity and commands the remaining UNIT soldiers, "On my command, open fire!"

"Take him out, take him out!"

Despite the barrage of gunfire from the UNIT troops, the bullets magically transform into a cascade of delicate rose petals, scattering around the office in a surreal display. The Toymaker, reveling in the chaos, gleefully glances atop a table as more rose petals dance in the air.

"Yellow man in Timbuktu

Colourful, both me and you

Kung Fu fighting, dancing queen

Tribal spaceman and all that's in between"

Undeterred, more UNIT soldiers step in, brandishing larger firearms. Kate urgently yells, "Get down!" Yet, instead of bullets, they too unleash a storm of rose petals towards the Toymaker, amplifying the confusion and chaos in the headquarters.

Now seated on the floor, the Toymaker whimsically creates a rose petal angel, moving his arms and legs in a playful display as he swims amidst the never-ending fall of petals, still lip-syncing to the song.

"Colours of the world (Spice up your life)

Every boy and every girl (Spice up your life)

People of the world (Spice up your life, ah)"

As the Toymaker gracefully walks away from the floral aftermath, he makes his exit, singing the last part of the song and forming a heart with his hands.

"Hai, sí, ja! Hold tight!"

With a resounding honk, he disappears into the floor, leaving the bewildered onlookers shaken and utterly confused about the bizarre turn of events.

The Doctor swiftly dashes forward, sliding to his knees with palms pressed to the floor in an attempt to catch the Toymaker, yet the space where he once stood appears empty, as if he were an illusion.

While Donna tends to Mel, you approach the Doctor, who rises to his feet. Kate's inquiry breaks the moment, "Doctor, Stargazer, who is he?"

Breathing heavily, you respond, "The Toymaker."

"How does he do that?" Shirley questions from her wheelchair, seeking understanding.

Ignoring the query, the Doctor directs urgently, "The Vlinx, speed up those scans. I need those results." He then turns to the group, nostrils flaring, and commands, "All of you, search the building. He’s still here. Where’s he gone?"

Soldiers take charge, securing the perimeter, while Shirley persists, "But how does he do it?" The Doctor, resolute, explains in a low tone, "If I told you he manipulates atoms with the power of thought, would you believe it?"

Shirley ponders for a moment before responding, "Is that what he does?"

The Doctor shakes his head, "No. You can’t fight him, Shirley. There’s nothing you can do."

A sudden noise interrupts the conversation—a bell tinkling. Hushing everyone, you urge, "Listen. Listen."

The ringing intensifies. Kate steps towards the automatic door leading to the helipad, and you follow suit. There, on the helipad, the Toymaker stands alone, dressed in an aviator outfit, ringing the doorbell. Kate exclaims, "Oh, my God. He’s got the Galvanic Beam." Reacting swiftly, you and the Doctor rush onto the helipad. The Toymaker sits on the chair of the Galvanic Beam, swinging it as he excitedly exclaims in German, "Achtung, Achtung! Backen Sie."

Kate, Donna, Shirley, and Mel, carrying the box, join you on the helipad along with the UNIT soldiers. The Toymaker continues, with his goggles on and his exaggerated German accent, "Oh, how I am liking this, the gun mit the laser und the bang und the boom."

The Doctor turns back to the group, urgently shouting, "Go back inside! Get back, get back!"

The Toymaker, however, dismisses the idea, insisting, "No, no, no, no, no. Every game is ge-needing an audience, ja."

Now it's your turn to raise your voice, "Get back inside!" Yet, the Toymaker, maintaining his defiance, sternly disagrees, "Und I said nein!" He takes aim at the glass higher up the building, shattering it. The team below reacts with startled cries as you and the Doctor shoot furious glares at the Toymaker.

Removing his goggles, the Toymaker switches to a British accent, calmly stating, "Now we can all have some fun."

Kate steps forward, undeterred and unafraid, confronting the Toymaker with a determined gaze. "Where are my staff? The beam had a pilot, and the armourer and the ground staff. Where are they?"

“I think they're still falling,” the Toymaker replies, and then a faint thud in the distance is followed by the sound of glass shattering.

The Doctor bares his teeth, anger etched across his face as he stomps forward and confronts the Toymaker, “I don't understand why you're so small!” The Toymaker’s face shifts into a frown, his features scrunching up as the Doctor continues his impassioned confrontation, “You can turn bullets into flowers. Think of the good you could do. So tell me why you don't!”

The Toymaker responds with resounding sureness, "You know full well this is merely a face concealing a vastness that will never cease, because your good and your bad are nothing to me. All that exists is to win or to lose."

“And you know full well that I've had many faces, containing something far more,” the Doctor begins. You inch closer to him as he grabs your hand, offering the Toymaker a compelling invitation, “So come with us. Leave this tiny world. We can take your games back to the stars. We can play across the cosmos. We can be... Celestial.”

You watch as the Toymaker’s gaze shifts between the two of you, “The Time Lords, and the Toymaker?”

You nod, extending your hand, “Infinite games.”

A moment of anticipation hangs in the air as you hope for his acceptance. However, the Toymaker's expression shifts to one of indifference as he uses the controller of the Galvanic Beam. Turning to survey London, he begins, “And yet…” The soldiers cautiously retreat as the Toymaker observes the destruction and chaos engulfing the city.

“I have fallen in love with humanity. This world is the ultimate playground. All of the sport, the matches, the medals, the gambling, and the anger, and the children shackled to their bedrooms with their joysticks and their buttons. You make games out of bricks falling upon other bricks. You are exceptional,” the Toymaker remarks, and you signal the troops to halt their advance. The Toymaker gasps, “And then there are the mind games. Oh, the dating and ghosting, the deceit and the control. You make me dizzy. I am in no hurry to leave this place.”

He swivels the turret around, a maniacal glint in his eye as he chuckles, “We can play Grandma's Footsteps.” He gleefully fires at the soldiers' feet, forcing them to hastily retreat, "And Off-Ground Touch."

“Ah! Stop, stop, stop, stop!” You plead helplessly as the Toymaker, a sinister smirk on his face, persists in aiming the Galvanic Beam at your companions. He remarks, "Shooting ducks. Who's up next? The companion? The soldier? The scientist? The orphan?"

The Doctor charges ahead, bellowing and thumping his chest defiantly, "Your fight is with me!" The Toymaker directs the beam towards the Doctor, declaring, "And you owe me! One more ga—"

His words abruptly cease as the Toymaker unleashes the Galvanic Beam, piercing through the Doctor's torso. A gut-wrenching scream escapes your lips, and you desperately attempt to rush towards him, only to be forcefully restrained by Donna and Kate. Helplessly, you bear witness to the Doctor's anguished ordeal.

The Toymaker proclaims, “I played the first game with one Doctor. I played the second game with this Doctor. Therefore, your own rules have decreed I play the third game with the next Doctor.” As the beam deactivates, you extricate yourself from Donna and Kate's grasp, hastening to reach your Doctor who has descended to his knees on the ground. Regeneration energy begins to shimmer around him, and you sniffle as you cradle him close, feeling his feeble arm wrap around you.

Tears stream down your face as you murmur, "Hey, hey... I'm right here."

You sense his touch, brushing away your tears as he utters, "Hello, my sweet Stargazer... I’ve been alone for so long. Oh, how I've missed you." A resonant sniff escapes you as you reply, "I'm so sorry. For running. For leaving. For everything, I’m sorry.”

He softly hushes you, "No. None of that. It's not your fault." A wistful smile gently paints his face. "I love you." You release a sob, "I love you too."

"Marry me?" The Doctor proposes, managing to flash you a boyish grin. You can't help but emit a weak laugh, "Right now?"

"Whenever, wherever you like. Just say yes."

"You already know I’d say yes, you idiot!" you retort.

"Say it, please," he murmurs, and you nod as tears continue to fall from your cheeks, "Of course, I'll marry you. I’ll marry you as many times as you want. As many lifetimes as you want."

As the regeneration energy glows brighter, Donna steps forward, yelling loudly to the Toymaker, “He's not dying alone. You can do what you like to me. I'm going to be with them both.”

“And so am I,” Mel declares, setting the box down and approaching the other side of the Doctor along with Donna.

The Toymaker allows it, nodding, “Handmaidens.”

“It's okay,” Donna says, and the Doctor responds, “It's not dying.” Donna nods in understanding, adding, “I know. But…”

Mel smiles as she interjects, “You're going to be someone else. It doesn't matter who because every single one of you is fantastic.”

The Doctor’s eyes glaze as he feels the regeneration energy glow brighter and stronger, surging throughout his body, “It's time. Here we go again. Allons-y!”

The energy fizzles out, and the Doctor hasn't changed his face, leaving you all blinking in confusion as he lets out an, “Um.”

The Doctor’s brow furrows as Donna asks, “What... What's happening?”

Looking to you, the Doctor asks in an even more confused tone, “Could you... pull?”

With your mouth agape and wide-eyed, you inquire, “Could I... what?” The Doctor looks to Mel and Donna to his left, saying, “And you.”

“What do you mean?” Mel asks, and the Doctor blinks as stands up and replies, “Pull! Just pull each way. I don't know. It feels different this time.” The three of you begin to pull in each way, and the Doctor exclaims, “Ow! Oh.”

Regeneration surges and flares up once more, and out pops the head and shoulders of the new Doctor, number 15. You all gasp in shock, and you're the first to say, “What?”

“What?” Donna and Mel ask in unison.

“What?!” The Toymaker exclaims.

“No way,” the other part of the Doctor exclaims, and your Doctor responds with glee, “You're me.”

The new regeneration of the Doctor smiles, a toothy grin spreading across his face as he says, “No, I'm me. I think I'm really, really me. Oh, ho-ho, I am completely me! Don't just stand there, push!”

Your Doctor poses the question once more, "Do what?" to which his other half retorts, "Push."

"What— Does this work?" Your Doctor questions and the new one responds with a laugh, "I don't know."

They part ways entirely, each now clad in half of the other one's attire. Your Doctor sports the undershirt, vest, and trousers, and is left barefoot. Meanwhile, as far as your memory serves, the 15th regeneration of the Doctor is now adorned in a button-up shirt, tie, sneakers, and underwear. You purse your lips as you try to hide your smile and feel a warmth spreading out your face as you realize your Doctor isn’t wearing any underwear. You decide to pocket that bit of information for later.

A surge of joy and laughter fills the air as the 15th Doctor exclaims, "Hello!" Arms outstretched in a welcoming embrace, he moves towards your Doctor, continuing to laugh, "So good to see you! So good!"

Turning his attention to you, a broad grin decorates his face as he rushes towards you, enveloping you in a warm hug and lifting you off the ground, spinning you around. A yelp of surprise and glee escapes you, and you notice a twinge of jealousy in your Doctor's expression. However, you shoot him a look, a gentle reminder that they are one and the same.

The 15th Doctor lets out hearty laughter before addressing everyone, "Now, someone tell me what the hell is going on here."

"Excuse me. Sorry, but..." Kate begins, and Shirley interjects, "How did that happen?"

"Bi-generation. I have bi-generated! There's no such thing. Bi-generation is supposed to be a myth, but... look at me.” He chuckles and stretches as his joints crack, “Yeah, myth, myth, myth," the 15th Doctor declares with a jolly tone, turning to Mel and inquiring, "Mel, what do you think?"

Mel smiles widely as she gazes at the 15th Doctor, "I think you're beautiful."

Your Doctor furrows his brow, questioning, "Still beautiful?"

"Yeah," Mel responds.

Donna, taking in the new Doctor with a rich deep ebony skin tone, asks, "Do you come in a range of colours?"

To which all the Time Lords reply with a resounding, "Yes."

You hear the Toymaker clear his throat and begin, pointing the beam at the two Doctors, "If I can interrupt... Behold the game of the Time Lords. A dummy who dies and doubles and dies and doubles. I could play this for 100 years. I'll have vast meadows of Doctors dying over and over again, and I'll never get bored because…"

The two Doctors step forward in unison, declaring, "I challenge you to a game."

The Toymaker's face sours, and he tosses his goggles, shifting into a frown. "But there's two of you."

Your Doctor asserts, "I'm the Doctor," and the 15th remarks, "And I'm the Doctor."

Your Doctor smirks, "And according to the rules, you can't say no."

The Toymaker stammers, "But that's cheating."

“How?” both Doctors say simultaneously, and your Doctor continues, “It's your game, and you did this.”

The Toymaker is at a loss for words, stammering, "But…"

Your Doctor smiles, "You doubled us."

“So, who am I marrying then—” You interject, and the two Doctors exclaim, “Me!”

Your eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening in response. "Y’know what, that seems like an issue for later."

The Toymaker interjects, stating, "I accept your challenge." Stepping off the Galvanic Beam, your Doctor commands everyone in a commanding voice, "Get back." In compliance, everyone takes a few steps back.

“Moments like these are a joy, when someone thinks they can outwit the maker of the games. Do you think a grand total of two can cause me to shiver when I've played against the Guardians of Time and Space and shrank them into voodoo dolls? Name your challenge, Doctor,” the Toymaker says, and you mockingly yawn, eliciting a glare from him.

“You said it. The first game ever,” the 15th Doctor states, and your Doctor finishes his thoughts, “The ball.”

The Toymaker conjures a ball from thin air and declares, “Catch? Of course, before we begin, there is one thing to remember. It's a simple game, really, but I think…”

Suddenly, the Toymaker hurls the ball towards your Doctor at an astonishing speed, making contact with his chest just as he finishes his sentence, “…if you drop it, you lose.”

Your Doctor catches the ball, releasing a deep breath, “Nice.”

The ball is tossed around in a flurry. You can only watch as it keeps getting passed and tossed. Eventually, the 15th Doctor throws it extremely far to your Doctor, causing him to tumble and dive to catch it from the 15th.

Your Doctor looks at the 15th with wide eyes, his chest puffing out breaths as he exclaims, “Hey! I'm on your side!”

15th sheepishly replies, “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry!”

The game of catch persists, and you nervously bite your nails as you observe the trio. There are numerous extreme throws and catches, accompanied by near misses, until the 15th Doctor imparts enough spin on the ball. It glances off the Toymaker's fingers, tumbling over the building's edge.

The Toymaker pants in disbelief, beginning, "But—"

“We won!” Your Doctor asserts, and the 15th adds, “We did it. Fair game. You lost.”

Attempting to salvage the situation, the Toymaker stammers, “No, but I think you'll find…”

Your Doctor steps forward, declaring, “Best of three. And my prize, Toymaker, is to banish you from existence forever.”

The Toymaker protests, “No! But I'm... It's not…” Suddenly, he starts to flatten and fold, “You can't... But I…” Mel steps forward and brings out the box as the Toymaker yelps, “Not fair. Please. My legions are coming. Argh!” He folds up into a square and drops into the box, which slams shut.

Kate seizes the box by the handles, instructing the soldier, “Take it to the deepest vault and bind it in salt.” The soldier promptly responds, “Yes, ma'am.”

Shirley and Kate disengage their Zeedexes. Kate turns to Shirley, saying, “Shirley, tell Geneva we're in full resus. Tell every base to follow Green Shoot protocols, full liaison.” She then addresses the soldier, “Rudi, I'll want the names of all those staff.”

Your attention shifts to your Doctor, standing at the edge of the helipad. The wind tousles his brown, spiky hair as he surveys the destruction wreaked upon London by the Toymaker. Approaching him, you grasp his hand and offer, “Hey, we did it.”

“But how many died down there?” The Doctor frowns, his tone heavy with sorrow. The 15th and Donna approach, with Donna reassuringly stating, “That's not your fault.”

The 15th points out, “You can't save everyone.”

Your Doctor pouts, “Why not?”

The 15th Doctor pulls both you and him into a hug, soothingly saying, “Come here. I've got you. Yeah? It's okay. I'm here.”

As you let out a sigh of relief, exhausted to the events that occurred. Your mind wanders and you smile. This love will intimately understand you, resonating on certain levels as if it has always existed—a deep-seated yearning your soul has carried, anticipating the reunion with its heart, perpetually poised to return home to the facets of itself discovered in another being. It serves as a poignant reminder that hope can emanate from the fingertips of another human being, nestled within the layers of the uncharted aspects waiting to be unveiled.

You and the group re-enter the building, abandoning the helipad to solitude, save for a lone sentry stationed at the entrance. A faint echo of laughter seems to linger in the air, leaving you with an inexplicable sense of dread resonating from a distant place.

UNIT HEADQUARTERS, SUITE 17, LONDON – DAY 2023

INSIDE THE TARDIS

You observe as the Doctor maneuvers around the console, guiding his other incarnation through the intricacies. "That's the petrolink shatterfy compensator, moved from there to there. Hyperdynes. Er... fluid links, obviously," he explains, his hands deftly pointing out the components.

Your Doctor halts abruptly, stumbling over his words as he gazes at the version of himself standing on the bridge. "And, well, you know... things. But, er... how's it going to work? You and me. This is great, I think. Is it? But... How do we both...?”

“One thing you need in this place is a chair,” the 15th Doctor remarks, and you arch your eyebrows, glancing at your Doctor, who responds, “I'll be all right.”

The 15th shakes his head, emphasizing, “No, you're thin as a pin, love. You're running on fumes.”

You and Donna both sigh in agreement, stating, “That's what we keep saying.”

“I'm just... post-bi-generation,” your Doctor attempts to justify, but the 15th Doctor interjects, “Ha! It's more than that. Our whole lifetime. That Doctor that first met the Toymaker never, ever stopped. Put on trial, exiled, Key to Time, all the devastation of Logopolis.”

“Adric,” your Doctor says with a tinge of sadness, and the 15th nods, “Adric.”

Your Doctor's expression shifts to a sorrowful pout as he reminisces about the days and tragic events. “River Song. All the people we lost. Sarah Jane has gone. Can you believe that for a second?”

“I loved her,” your Doctor admits, and the 15th agrees, “I loved her. And Rose. But the Time War, Pandorica, Mavic Chen. We fought the Gods of Ragnarok, and we didn't stop for a second to say, ‘what the hell?’”

Your Doctor shakes his head, “But you're fine.” He gestures to his newly regenerated self, and the 15th says, “I'm fine because you fixed yourself. We're Time Lords. We're doing rehab out of order.”

You then gently interject, “He's saying you need to stop.”

Your Doctor shakes his head in disagreement, stating, “I don't know how.”

Donna takes a step forward, her words measured, “Well, I can tell you. Cos you know what I did when you went flying off in your blue box, Spaceman? I stayed in one place, and I lived day after day after day.”

“It would drive me mad,” your Doctor admits. You nod in agreement, stepping closer to him, your hand gently holding his cheek. “Same here. I’ll be honest, it was difficult… at first. Yeah. It does. But you keep on going. That’s what makes it special. You won’t exactly know what’s going to happen. And that's the adventure. The one adventure you've never had. Because I've... I've worked out what happened. The Flux caused a reset in the universe, no longer making my entire existence a threat to everyone. Then you changed your face, and then you found me. Do you know why?”

The Doctor is wide-eyed as you gaze into his chocolate brown eyes, and you give him a soft smile, “To come home.”

“Do you mean... he flies off?” The Doctor says as he glances at the 15th Doctor, tears welling up. “But I could never let the Tardis go. Never. It would hurt.”

The 15th Doctor approaches you two and leans against the console, stating, “Yeah, but... bi-generation has never happened before.” An idea begins to form in his mind, “What if...? What if!”

Eagerly, he dashes to the walkway, producing a 'test your strength' mallet. “What if the Toymaker's domain is still lingering? Just for a few seconds more, we're in a state of play. Oh! So maybe…”

The 15th Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, and the three of you follow after him. Shirley and Mel are waiting in the suite.

Excitedly, the 15th Doctor exclaims, “Hey! Watch this, watch this. Watch, watch, watch, watch. Stand back. Stand back. Go on, that's it, Donna. Oh! Wish me luck.”

“What for?” The Doctor asks, to which the 15th responds with a big smile, “We won the game. You get a prize, honey, and here is mine!” He swings at the side of the TARDIS, knocking a second one out. An exact duplicate stands on the left side of the original one.

“Ta-da!” The 15th shows off in a sing-songy voice before whispering to the TARDIS, “I am so sorry.”

Donna expresses with glee, “That is completely nuts,” and the 15th Doctor laughs in agreement.

The Doctor pushes the other TARDIS doors open and looks down. He unfolds a ramp, saying, “Oh, look! Oh, that's not bad. Wheelchair accessible.”

“At last! You finally caught up with the 21st century!” Shirley smiles, laughing.

“Yeah. Go on,” the 15th Doctor says to your Doctor, who steps inside to glance around as you wait outside. After a minute, he walks out, goes into the original TARDIS, and looks around. You watch as the 15th Doctor gives you a wink before stepping inside his TARDIS, and you let out a snort.

You see your Doctor exit the TARDIS and realize the 15th Doctor is missing. “Where is he? Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!”

You follow your Doctor as he pushes open the other TARDIS doors, saying, “You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?”

The 15th Doctor mischievously grins as he replies, “As if I would ever do that. Come here. Come here, come here, come here, come here.” He hugs him and kisses you on the cheek, saying, “Look after him, you know? Now, you three, if you don't mind, there is a great big universe out there calling, and I've got to get going. So off you pop, old man.”

Your Doctor shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes, “Oh. You're the old man. You're older than me.”

Donna nods in agreement, “Actually, that is true. He's younger because you came after him. So you're the older Doctor.”

The 15th Doctor rolls his eyes playfully, teasing, “Okay, kid. I love you. Get out!” He sets the Time Rotor in motion, and Donna rushes out of the TARDIS, yelping, “I'm not doing that again!”

Observing the Doctors salute each other, you hear him say to you, “I’ll see you soon.” Then the two of you exit.

Stepping into Suite 17, the group gathers as the Doctor remarks, “Shirley, I don't suppose you've seen this before. I don't see it often myself. Stand by.”

“Where's he going?” Mel asks, and the Doctor replies, “Everywhere.”

You watch as the TARDIS dematerializes, and you catch the soft whisper of the Doctor, “Good luck.”

DONNA’S GARDEN — DAY, 2023

The TARDIS is parked in Donna’s garden, a testament to the new chapter you and the Doctor were embarking on—cohabiting. Presently, the entire family savored a meal al fresco beneath the pergola adorned with wisteria in full bloom. The Doctor sat beside you, his hand resting casually on your thigh, a constant desire to connect, to be near.

“Right. The cast-iron pot is the vegan. Ta-da! And the one with the flowers is the chicken,” Shaun declares, placing the dish on the table. You hum and nod, and Shaun adds, “I think.”

Sylvia chimes in, pointing to the dish, “And this is cauliflower cheese, which doesn't really go with anything, but it was there.” Rose nods as they begin to take their seats.

Donna raises a hand, signaling for attention, “Anyway, shush, please, for the eyebrow story.”

“Oh, yes. So... this species only communicated with their eyebrows. I thought, I can do that,” the Doctor says with an unusually happy tone, a rare occurrence that visibly lifts the weight from his shoulders. He sits straighter, and with a flourish of his eyebrows, he continues the story, “So I'm stood there on this clifftop and I went... ‘I mean you no harm. I come in peace. I am your friend.’”

“Am I late?” Mel's voice breaks through, and you lift your head to see her sheepishly saying, “Sorry. The door was open. You don't mind?”

Sylvia dismisses her concern, cooing, “Oh, you're family, darling. Sit down.”

You glance at Mel and ask, “Did you drive?”

“No. I got a lift off a zingo,” Mel replies as she takes a seat next to you, prompting cheers and laughter from the group.

“A zingo!” Donna exclaims, and Sylvia smiles, “Oh, how strange.”

The Doctor continues his eyebrow-raising tale, “So, she looked at me, the Warrior Queen of the Felooth, and she said, ‘Good. And now... you will marry me.’ I said, ‘What?!’ And she pushed me off the cliff!”

Sylvia leans in over the table, asking, “But is it true, though? Is it really true?”

The Doctor looks to you, humming and shrugging, “Mmm…” You playfully shove his shoulder, and he kisses your cheek.

“We could always go in the Tardis and find out,” Rose suggests, but Shaun interjects, “Don't you dare.”

Donna sternly tells her daughter, “You are grounded until the Doctor feels better. Don't go sneaking off to Mars.”

“Again,” Rose says, and Donna goes wide-eyed, asking, “What does that mean?” She pointedly looks at the two of you.

“Oh, no. It was just once. Oh, you're in trouble,” the Doctor says, and you wince.

Mel explains, “They took me to New York last week. The Gilded Age. It was amazing.”

The Doctor shrugs, “Well, yeah. We just can't turn down my favourite niece.”

Rose smiles, “Ah! Niece. I like that.”

“Well, that's what you are. With my best friend, my brother-in-law, the evil stepmother…” The Doctor says, and Sylvia chuckles, “Oh, I have barely begun.” The Doctor continues, “..and Mad Aunty Mel.”

Mel chuckles, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

You all toast happily, exclaiming, “Mad Aunty Mel!”

The Doctor then places down his glass before lifting your left hand, now adorned with a gold band inscribed in Gallifreyan. He kisses your knuckles and says lovingly, “And of course, my soon-to-be wife.”

You can’t help but smile as you look at him. With him, you just open. The cost of staying fortified and hidden away becomes too high. With the Doctor, you lay down your arms. You let love rush in. You let it wash over you. You crack your shell, exposing your heart to this world, trusting that you are worthy of being seen there.

The Doctor then remembers, “And Grandad! Where is he?”

Sylvia says, “Oh, he's off shooting moles.”

The sound of a shotgun resonates, and you hum as the Doctor says, “Don't worry, I gave the moles a forcefield. I love the moles.”

Donna raises her eyebrows, asking, “You love the moles?”

The Doctor grins, “I love them. But here we are, Grandad and all. Who'd have thought? I ended up with a family.”

You feel the weight of his words settling in the cracks of your bones as your hearts thump in the silence. You lean your head on his shoulder, feeling him kiss the top of your head.

Shaun suddenly exclaims, “Oh, my God, I got it wrong. The vegan one is in the flowers.”

Rose groans, tossing her fork on the plate, “Urgh! What am I eating?”

“Oh... Don't worry.” Shaun tries to help. “We'll just… give it to Grandad.” Sylvia adds, “Don't make a fuss. Pass me your plate.”

Donna looks between the two of you, smiling as she says, “You don't have to stay forever.”

The Doctor glances at you, and you smile up at him, saying, “We'll see.”

“Do you miss it? Out there?” Donna asks.

The Doctor looks around, realizing he’s surrounded by love as he says, “The funny thing is, I fought all those battles for all those years, and now I know what for. This. I've never been so happy in my life.”

This love infuses honey into the core of your being; it's akin to a gentle warmth seeping into the very marrow of your bones. Witnessing how it learns about you, fights on your behalf, and remains steadfast through life's storms by your side, you're reminded of the profound connection often overshadowed by the preference for distance over depth in this world. It's a reminder that hope emanates from the touch of another, concealed within the layers of undiscovered facets. You now comprehend that love was always intended to be gentle, always meant to be tender, as evidenced by the Doctor intertwining his fingers with yours, accompanied by a bright grin. Your bones are safe, and your heart can rest assured it belongs to him. Your world transforms, cradled by the comforting embrace that is the Doctor.

“So,” Donna begins as she chews her food and swallows as he smiles at her best friends, “When’s the wedding?”

TAGLIST:

@awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @matthew-lilards @a-dash-of-cinnamon @imthedoctorlove @scoliobean @allophonicmess @mirkwoodshewolf @jaziona92 @melloww-akira @crowleythesexydemon @pedrettilov3r @nsainmoonchild @h-l-vlovesvintage @jaziona92 @1potato2rulethemall @jesssimblrorwhatever @prettyboigenius @ladygrimmx

#14th doctor x reader #14th doctor x fem!reader #14th doctor x fem reader #14th doctor #10th doctor #doctor who #fourteen x reader #fourteenth doctor #dw specials #dw spoilers #doctor who special #doctor who 60th anniversary #dw 60th #60th anniversary

[ifearzombies]

The “CPR by Cupcakke” Incident W/Fem MC

Based off the rules MC has in the HoL post I made here: [x]

Not intended for minors. Very much adult content only. Reader discretion is advised.

     You were working on cleaning the House of Lamentation today. And it was boring. So much dusting, sweeping, and mopping. Luckily you’d gotten the brothers to get Swiffer products from the human realm since they were much easier to use, but it was still taking awhile.

     You get your D.D.D. out and decide to get a playlist going of some of your favorite jams and adding ‘CPR from Cupcakke’. You sang and danced as you cleaned to some of your songs. You were in the living room when ‘CPR’ came on and started moaning along with the songs.

     Lucifer heard this from his office and first tried to get your attention but the music was too loud in your eardrums so he gave up and ran upstairs. He locked all the brothers’ doors hoping that they wouldn’t hear you since he was about to need you all to himself since the way you were moaning and swaying your hips was burned into his memory.

    He was too late, though. Beel was in the kitchen on a voice call with all the brothers to discuss lunch options when he heard you in the living room. He moved the call to video to show everyone (he wanted everyone to enjoy the show like he was). But Beel’s resolve to hold the phone didn’t last and soon it was on the floor.

     Before you could blink, Beel pinned you to the wall, growling as he kissed your neck, his strong hands holding you. “I need you,” he pants while removing your clothes, “I need you now!”

     You gasp and moan at the attention. You briefly think to order him to stop before he bites your neck just right and you’re puddy in his hands. “Fuck... Beel...”

     Upstairs was bedlam. The brothers realized they were locked in and who exactly did it and were furious. There was banging and shouting and soon Satan burst through his door with enough force it broke the wall. He then proceeded to break down the doors of all the other brothers in a hopeful bid that Lucifer would get you last- breaking the walls of their rooms as well.

     Mammon was the first to get down; as Lucifer was trying to get the others to calm and not turn this into an orgy. Your first man saw you and instantly his avarice took over. He watched a few moments; Beel pinning your body with it’s torn clothes, mussed hair, kiss swollen lips, and your pussy already getting wet. He then went over and slid so he was between you and the wall. One hand went down to toy your clit while Beel sucked on your tit.

     “Oh fuck! Ma-Mamm-” Your moan was cut off as Mammon turned your head to kiss you deeply; meanwhile Leviathan’s tail moved into your backside. The Otaku was standing to one side, stroking himself at the sight of you getting lavished on by his brothers.

     “Oh... Seeing you like that... Please... Use a hand,” Levi begged, moving slightly closer. Without a thought you reach out and stroke his length.

     “I have an idea,” Asmo cooed. He had finally gotten past Lucifer and was staring hungrily at everyone, “Beel... Lay down. We’ll put her on that thick cock... Levi. You should let her suck on your dick while I fuck that cute ass of hers... Mammon~.. I bet if we lay you down so your dick’s next to Beels, her pussy can fit both of yours.”

     “I like that idea,” Mammon replied, “Beel. Pull off a minute... We’re gonna rock her world.”

    Beel pulled away reluctantly before he laid down on the carpet. “Please... I need her so bad,” he begged as Mammon and Amso move you and line you up. Levi moved to hold you while Mammon went and laid opposite Beel so the two cocks were up against one another. Asmo held them together as he and Levi sank you down on the two members.

     You let out a loud cry of bliss. You feel so full and your mind is already getting hazy. You hit your climax as Asmo enters you from behind, soaking Beel and Mammon’s cocks while the Avatar of Lust controls your rhythm.

     “Come on, Levi... Look at that pretty face,” Asmo purred, “It’s begging for you to fuck it.”

     Levi looked torn for a moment before putting his cock to your mouth. You latch on and ride Mammon, Beel, and Asmo as best you can while drowning in bliss. Your nerves were sparking alight with bliss, your very core rammed and being hit just right. Their hands were all over you. Massaging and pinching your teats, toying with your clit, smacking your ass, pulling your hair.

     Belphie came down and saw the scene and sat down on the nearby coffee table. “Hey hey. You’re ignoring me,��� he said, chastising you, “Give me a hand, toy.”

     You reached out and started stroking Belphie and looked to the other side to see Satan and reached a hand out to him too. You wanted all of them. You wanted them all to use you and ruin you. Satan put his cock in your hand with a smile.

     “Good Kitten,” Satan praised, “You look so sexy, letting us fuck you like this... You look amazing.”

     You could barely hear him. All you knew was Asmo’s cock ramming your ass, Beel and Mammon’s thick lengths filling your cunt. The taste of Levi’s cock in your mouth. You screamed as you climaxed again, your pussy clenching around the lengths inside you.

     Beel and Mammon both gasped and held your hips as they filled you. Your stomach swelled slightly from the amount of cum. The sight was too much for Levi and he filled your mouth with his ejaculate. You swallowed loudly and clean his cock with your tongue while your hips kept rocking against Beel, Mammon, and Asmo.

     “PLEASE MORE PLEASE MORE FUCK YES FUCK YES OH FUCK YES USE ME PLEASE,” you begged as Levi pulled out of your mouth.

     “Our turn,” Belphie chimed, “Beel. Mammon. Asmo. Pull out... I want to fuck her ass...”

     “And I want that cute cunt,” Satan stated as he pulled you off his brothers, “I need it. I need to fill her cunt with my cum too. Right, Kitten? You want that, don’t you?”

     “Ye-Ye-es,” you panted, trying to catch your breath. You didn’t have long as Satan sat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap. You’re quickly entered and roughly fucked by the avatar of wrath. He smacked your ass with each thrust before Belphie lined up and pushed into you as well.

     “Move so I can fuck her mouth,” Lucifer ordered. He couldn’t control himself anymore. He wanted you too.

     Satan ignored him a moment before he laid on the couch, your face over the edge. Belphie moved too and grabbed your breasts while he rammed your ass.

     “You’re our sexy toy,” Belphie chuckled darkly while Lucifer roughly fucks your mouth. Your vision started to go white while Lucifer pulled your hair and forced you to deep throat him.

     You could only keep your eyes closed, tears forming in them while your body went limp. Your mind was gone. Everything is white and fuzzy and muted. All you knew was that everything felt amazing. You felt yourself cum over and over again. Your stomach slightly ached with it being stretched from how much cum you were filled with.

     You still can’t remember the two days after. Everything was a blur. The only thing you know is when you woke up two days later the house was a wreck. You’d been fucked all over the House of Lamentation and the evidence was obvious. You couldn’t stand. Your body was covered in bites and hickies.

     You are still embarrassed that Barbatos found you, middle of the living room and covered in cum and unable to walk. The brothers completely passed out. No one had heard from anyone in the House of Lamentation for days and were worried.

     From then on, Lucifer updated his house rules for you. No sexy songs played audibly as number one. And number 2? No singing and dancing. The other punishment was everyone had to clean and repair the house.

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me om #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

[eggymf-archived]

of paper planes and wildflowers; 11

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)  

chapter warnings: angst, mentions of kidnapping, a lot of trauma, torture, partially proofread (teehee)

chapter summary: everyone has their dark sides, no matter how “clean” their record seems. the question is, would you be able to accept them once they've reared their ugly head?

word count: 5.9k

a/n: special mention to @freesiriusblack​, @cranetreegang​ and @iamintoomanyfandoms​ for enabling me to push through with my ideas for this utter bedlam of a chapter. personally this chapter was quite hellish to write, but yolkie persists! i’m still rather nervous if you readers will like this one though. one scriptorium chapter coming right up!  also, i made a wee audio of the first part of this for funsies. you can listen to it right here. (it’s sfw.)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

The Great Hall was particularly quiet this morning, with most students likely sleeping in for the weekends. The vast space was illuminated in a slightly blue-toned day lighting that peered through the ginormous glass windows. Ominis was currently seated at the Slytherin table right beside Sebastian, who was helping himself to a hearty meal. Meanwhile, the misty-eyed male had halted his little eating session briefly: he had his wand pointed towards a piece of parchment that he held, skimming through the letter that he had received several moments ago from an all-familiar Great Horned Owl.

Dearest Ves, I apologize for my lack of reply ever since that note that you've given me. Many troubles are weighing within my mind, as of late, but rest assured that it's not regarding our little situation. That being said, I think I might have an inkling as to who you might be. However, I am not one to rely on just assumptions although you've made it quite blatantly obvious as to who you are. Instead, I shall gather concrete evidence that'll point me to you for good measure; just so I know that I didn’t make a mistake. By that time, I would’ve most likely accumulated enough courage to even confront you about the matter. I’m not one who would dare do such a thing, but I suppose I’m willing to make your case an exception. For now, I wish to indulge in whatever time that remains of this pen pal relationship. I find it hard to let go, if I'm being completely honest. I quite like exchanging letters with you after all — it was certainly an eye-opening experience plus an incredible joy to be in correspondence with a man of wit and grace. I hope you don't mind my horrendously bizarre request of relishing in the moment. With utmost sincerity and adoration, (Y/N)

Ominis sets the letter down, refolding the parchment and tucking it into the inner pocket of his blazer. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed as he took a bite out of his eggs on toast, mulling over the thoughts that had been injected within his psyche upon reading your letter.

This was yet another moment of him silently wishing that he had the gift of sight; perhaps if he were able to look at you from across the hall (if you were there to begin with, of course), then he wouldn't be formulating all sorts of pointless questions within his mind. Dark brown orbs stared at the lithe-framed male from the corner of his eye as he sighed woefully.

“Are you alright, Ominis? You're a little distracted this morning,” Sebastian asks before sipping from his cup. “Bad news?”

“No… It's nothing, really. It's about her, I suppose,” he mumbles in response. 

“Perhaps if you stopped skirting around the issue, then maybe it would be easier for you both,” Sebastian shrugs. “When are you going to tell her anyway?”

“She already knows, Sebastian. She just needs to confirm it for herself,” Ominis sighs while Sebastian gapes at his revelation out of sheer astonishment, paying closer attention to what the opal-eyed male has to say.

“She knows?! Isn't that a good thing? You could just drop the biggest clue and that'll solve your problems!” 

“Yes, but I'd rather spare her from my persuasive tactics for now. Must've been quite a shock to her that her pen pal was the blind lad all along,” Ominis grumbles. “Perhaps I paced this whole thing way too fast…”

“Oh?" Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “Anything happened lately?”

“... I might've brought her along to Feldcroft to meet Anne.”

Sebastian nearly spat out the pumpkin juice he was drinking, quickly swallowing the sweet liquid and wiping the stray droplet with the back of his hand. He turns to Ominis, absolutely gobsmacked before crossing his arms with a teasing smirk on his face.

“So that's why you skipped classes with her!” the brunette laughed. “Merlin’s beard, you work fast! Even skipped an entire step in the whole courtship process. Meeting the family before dating? Oh boy. Whatever will your father say about this?”

Oh, if only Sebastian knew how far the jump truly was. He'd be absolutely floored.

“Sebastian, for the love of Merlin, just eat your damn breakfast,” Ominis groans. “It’s bad enough I’m worried that I messed up.”

While a rather grumbly Ominis continues to munch on his breakfast, Sebastian glances towards the Ravenclaw table, his eyes coincidentally meeting with yours. You instinctively averted your gaze by looking down on your empty plate, sipping on your own cup of pumpkin juice. A smug grin appeared on his face.

“Oh, believe me when I say this. You didn't mess up, Ominis,” he chuckled, leaning slightly closer and lowering his tone. “She’s been staring at you this entire time.”

The blonde-haired Slytherin sputtered, instantly grabbing his nearby cup and chugged its contents.

“Not when I'm eating, you moonmind!” he hissed, his face turning an angry red. Deep within the corner of his mind, however, he was relieved. Sebastian chortled at his best friend’s predicament, taking the last bit of toast in his mouth while Ominis refilled his cup with pumpkin juice. From a distance, a certain student clad in Hufflepuff school uniform motions for Sebastian to come over. 

“Well then, best be on my way. I'll see you around, Ominis,” he grins, patting the said male's back before scuttering over to Skylar, who was waiting with their arms crossed, the both of them exiting the hall together. Finishing the remnants of his meal, Ominis got up, making his way to the exit of the Great Hall. You quickly got up, trailing towards him.

“Gaunt!”

Ominis turns towards your direction, his cheeks flushing the faintest shade of pink.

“Is something the matter?”

The light thumping of your footsteps died out slowly as you approached him. 

“Alright, self. Keep it subtle,” your inner voice encourages.

“Uhh, do you have plans today? I was thinking if we should start on that Charms assignment together,” you suggested, masking your innocent little intentions with an air of nonchalance. Ominis raises an eyebrow.

“... Isn't that assignment due in two weeks?” he asked. “And Ronen gave it only yesterday too. What's the rush?”

“Alright, pack it up. We're leaving. NOW!” the once encouraging voice screeched within your head, unfortunately falling into deaf ears as you persisted in pushing your luck.

“...You know I'd rather not rush, especially if it's a group-related sort of task, right?” you asked, attempting to bury that particular incident about your first Transfiguration assignment with him back into the depths of your mind. Up until this very day, it was truly a grave reminder of your former unsavory antics. Not that you regretted or disliked it, of course.

A knowing smirk graced his visage, instantly sensing the slightest hint of your bashfulness. A verbal tease was threatening to spill itself from his lips, but he remained quiet despite his amusement. He has to control himself after or at least try to. His silence was deafening despite the mumbles, chatters, and sound of cutlery within the Great Hall while dread began to churn within the pit of your stomach.

“Wow, the floor certainly looks enticing right now. I wonder if it's willing to swallow me, never to return again?” you thought in an attempt to diffuse your ever-growing anxiety of rejection.

“You know, if you just wanted to spend more time with me, all you need is ask,” the male before you chuckled. “I would've gladly agreed.”

It was too much for your poor morning brain to handle. You stood there motionless, quivering with your face adorning a shade of crimson at his sudden flirtation. Goodness, it was as if you've spontaneously combusted on the spot — you wouldn't even be surprised if smoke was coming out of your head at this very moment. 

Ominis gave you a cheeky grin. Although he was incapable of sight, he was well-capable of sensing embarrassment from afar, especially if it was yours.

“T…That’s not—!” 

“Sure it wasn’t,” he drawled smugly, sauntering towards the exit doors and pushing it open before facing. “After you.”

You shot him a look of half-hearted disdain and exited yourself out of the Great Hall, with him following you right after. The both of you were headed to the library yet again for another study session, with you hoping that things will be a bit more uneventful for today. While walking together in silence, Ominis suddenly cursed under his breath.

“Blast… I left my summarized notes in the common room. That was supposed to make it easier for us…” he sighs. You raised an eyebrow this time around, a smirk worming its way to your face.

“For us?” you absentmindedly repeated rather innocently. Ominis scoffs in amusement.

“You sure like the sound of that, huh?” he drawls. “Why? Does the thought entice you that much?”

A look of bemusement was evident in your visage before realization dawned upon you, a tint of red coloring your cheeks for the umpteenth time no thanks to his antics.

“Is this another one of your tricks, Gaunt? Because I’m not falling for it!” you huffed while crossing your arms.

Ominis lets out a teasing chuckle, sparing you from the rebuttal he had intended to fling towards you. You half-heartedly glared at him, still flustered. Whether it’s out of bashfulness, agreement, or denial — you weren’t quite sure at this point. Truth be told, you actually like the attention.

For the most part, you patiently waited at the nearby staircase of the Slytherin common room for Ominis, secretly picking off dirt from your fingernails while mulling over the multiple topics that had to be written in the parchment later on. Soon, the large snake emerged from the foot of the seemingly blank stone wall, revealing the door to the common room. Your brows furrowed, however — there was a muffled sound of two awfully familiar bickering boys from the now newly-revealed door. 

You immediately sprang up to your feet the moment the doors swung open, revealing a frowning Sebastian alongside a vexed Ominis, who was stomping his way towards you with obvious annoyance towards his best friend. You let out a surprised yelp as his slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you towards him as he makes his way to the narrow corridor on the right. You turned towards Sebastian, who was equally just as frustrated as Ominis with his arms folded across his chest.

The moment both you and Ominis reached the end of the corridor, his grip on you loosened. A sigh escaped his pale pink lips out of exasperation.

“Gaunt, what was that about? What's going on?”

Before Ominis could even whisk you away from the dungeons or provide you with an answer to your questions, you were both interrupted by the sound of running footsteps reverberating throughout the empty corridor.

“Ominis, wait!” 

His head whipped towards the direction of the new voice within the scene, his tone low and exhausted. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks towards Skylar, who was panting slightly after making that sprint towards the young Gaunt. Your eyes dart to and fro between the two, sensing the direness of the situation.

“I’ll uhh… Just go over there…” you mumbled, backing away from the new fifth year and Ominis. You scampered a considerable distance away from the two, the sudden urgency of their interaction befuddling your wits. Sebastian wasn’t far from you, but you kept your lips sealed — the freckled male still looked rather cross, and you'd rather not get involved with any spats or possible crossfires within the friend group.

Minutes passed, and the air was still as silent as ever aside from the faint chatters at the end of the corridor. 

Upon hearing your name and Sebastian’s being called, you immediately sped towards Ominis, who was pacing around at the corner of the hallway. Skylar then began igniting the nearby braziers, much to your absolute confusion, and the heavy movement of moving stone echoed throughout the desolated hallway, revealing a hidden dark stairwell that leads to a lower level in the dungeons. 

“What in Merlin's name..?!”

Sebastian and Skylar descended down the poorly lit stairwell, leaving you and Ominis at the entrance. A sense of dread was brewing within your gut as you glanced at the secret area. You were about to step closer to the entrance, only to be yanked back by the male beside you. Your head snapped towards his direction with a frown.

“You might not want to enter. What lies ahead is far too sinister.”

The obscurity of the situation finally roused the annoyed frustration within you, nearly making you snap at the blonde-haired male. Inhaling a deep lungful of air, you calmed yourself despite the intensity of your panicked confusion.

“You better tell me whatever it is that's going on in there, Gaunt. I despise it when I’m being kept in the dark.” 

“It’s not for you to know,” he insisted, his brows furrowed in agitation. “I shan't allow it. You can’t. We don't know what kind of Dark Magic—”

“Dark Magic?! And you three are blatantly putting yourselves in that sort of danger?” you hissed angrily. “I'm coming with you.”

“No, you're not!”

“Yes, I am!” you vehemently insisted in the heat of the moment before letting out a sigh. “...You might need me for what lies ahead.”

Ominis groaned at your blatant display of stubbornness, exhaling exasperatedly at the mess the entire situation had become no thanks to Sebastian and Skylar's poor timing. 

You were right — and he hated it. 

You are a capable witch, but there was this inner knowing that what has yet to happen within Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium will completely go awry. To further add on to his tumultuous vexations, he knew well enough that you wouldn't back down no matter how much he insists. 

He threw his hands up in defeat, ultimately surrendering to your request.

“Fine, you can tag along. But stay close: we never know what might be lurking in there, and I’d much rather have you unscathed.”

“... I will.”

Upon the both of you slipping inside, the entranceway was immediately sealed shut, the stone wall sliding back into its place. His wand blinks red while you whip out your own, its tip emitting a white glow as soon as you casted Lumos non-verbally. You felt a faint brush against your pinky before his own intertwined itself around yours before leading you down the stairwell, where Skylar and Sebastian awaited. 

“Took you two long enough,” Sebastian drawls, leaning against the stone walls. “I was beginning to think that you'd leave us in here.”

“We had a small discussion. Nothing more,” Ominis said stiffly, letting go of your digit and leaning beside the walls near the large door within the confined space. Skylar shone their wand at the rubble, their eyes darting from the destroyed relief on the wall. 

“Reparo.”

The rubble started to piece itself back onto the wall and Ominis instantly pales, hearing the all-familiar, notoriously dreadful language of the snakes communicate with him once more. It had been so long since he had heard it or even used it, and it made him sick to his core of using it again after suppressing it for so long.

The true horrors started from the very moment the archaic language was uttered from Ominis' lips, his voice resembling a melodiously harsh hiss to a person incapable of understanding its meaning. The whole way to the scriptorium resembled a cruel game to test one's mettle in the pursuit of knowledge, yet it wasn't synonymous with triumphs and honor, but with vile prejudice and madness — a place that's only privy to the elites of the elites: the Gaunts.

Your lips curled into a frown as your brain began to decipher every last bit of detail within the musty, confined space. Within your analytical mind, the various components of this huge puzzle created by Salazar Slytherin himself was a symbolic representation of his long-standing lineage that prevailed throughout time.

The braziers were the first part of the puzzle: perhaps a witty little play of their plethora of generational secrets that is hidden in plain sight. The second part was the snake-decorated door that could only be opened by Parseltongue: the proof of their dedication in maintaining the purest of magical blood. Currently, you were at the third part of their trial, which consisted of snake dials that would strike the moment time runs out — a reflection of their hostile volatility.

One thing was for sure about this series of trials: the further you progress, the more harrowing it gets. It was a matter of time before this well-orchestrated symphonic chaos resounded its glorious crescendo of horror, and you were dreading what awaits all of you with every fiber of your being. 

Alas, there was no going back.

You've managed to solve one dial smoothly on your own while Sebastian and Skylar were busy solving the other two. You sauntered towards Ominis, who was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Mimicking his actions, a tired sigh escaping your lips, glancing at him from the corner of your eye with pure concern, his words heavy within your mind and heart.

“What lies ahead is far too sinister.”

You were beginning to see why Ominis would say such a thing. Although your partial ignorance enveloped you within a protective shell, you were still cursed with the ability to piece even the most obscure of clues together. The entire situation was a complete mess, but amidst the flurry of incoherence, you were absolutely sure that the rumors pale in comparison to the truth of this ancient family's culture.

“Just how many atrocities have you gone through, Ominis?” you woefully queried within the privacy of your thoughts, taking a quick glance at the said male who held a morose expression on his face. 

The final gate was soon opened, the sound of metal echoing throughout the series of empty rooms. Sebastian and Skylar immediately rushed into the room with you and Ominis following them with reluctance, the nearby torches instantly ignited by magic. Your eyes wandered to the door at the opposite end as you strode nearer to it. It strangely resembled cooled, molten lava that had been molded into the shape of people letting out an anguished screams. 

Ominis grabbed your arm, preventing you from straying too far from him. The hairs on his skin were standing upright, and the mere acknowledgement of that accumulating fear left a bitter taste within his tongue.

It was likely to be the final room, for it held the most sinister trial compared to the previous rooms that the four of you had traversed through. Sebastian and Skylar were near the enchanted door, observing the pile of bones along with a piece of parchment that laid beside the remnants of a once living being. 

Noctua Gaunt — Ominis' missing aunt.

The chaos that ensues right after that grim realization gripped the entirety of your being as panicked words were exchanged amongst the other three while you stood in silence within the safety of Ominis right by your side. The contents within your brain, however, were in a state of pandemonium. You could hear your own heartbeat pulsing within your ears, and cold beads of sweat were forming at your nape and temples. 

Your hearing was selectively fragmented at this point: your brain was only paying attention to the relevant information that the other three parties with you were spewing out. It was akin to grasping at Billywigs, but you were desperate for any crumb of information to at least make sense of whatever that was happening around you.

“... Cast Crucio…”

“... Ominis… Most experience…”

“...Cruciatus Curse…"

The hushed conversation between Skylar and Sebastian made your skin crawl, and it worsened the moment Skylar started to approach both you and Ominis. Your mind was racing, hurriedly piecing the shards of information to give you a better picture.

“... If this is a place accessible only to the Gaunts, and casting Crucio is inevitable, that means…”

The weight of the truth dropped upon you, crushing your heart. Nothing was registering within your head as you finally wrapped your head around the matter. Despite Skylar's pleas and improvised propositions, Ominis was adamant in not dirtying his hands any further. You, however, stood there in a daze with a dull throb pulsating within your poor head.

Eyes of mortified realization began to trail towards the only Gaunt within this room, eyes turning glassy as the fog enshrouding his past cleared up even further, finally giving you a distinguishable context of how much Ominis has truly suffered over the years.

His lack of sight…

The foul reputation that he garnered just because of his last name…

His aloofness…

His efficiency in chores despite his wealth…

His chosen family…

This entire situation…

The curse of being an heir of Salazar Slytherin.

"That spell is the reason why I have no family left!" 

His heartbreaking revelations echoed throughout the space, the cold hard facts now set in stone. Ominis inhaled sharply, temporarily soothing his nerves before turning to Skylar once more.

“You and Sebastian will need to sort out another solution,” he finally says calmly. Skylar sighs with a look of dejection.

“... I understand. What about you?" they asked, turning towards you. Ominis’ lithe frame instinctively obstructs the ancient magic wielder coldly as his expression morphs into an icy glare.

“Leave her out of this,” he snarls at Skylar, who immediately backs away, not wishing to further incur the male’s anger. Ominis turns to you, immediately noting the small trembles that racked through your body and your slightly erratic breathing. He intertwined his fingers with yours, rubbing circles on your soft skin with his lightly calloused thumb. 

He found himself in a pickle, unsure of how to navigate himself through this precariously placed situation. Your current state was a cocktail of all sorts of nasty emotions, consisting primarily of fear, confusion, and agonizing despondence. All he could offer for now was his silent, unspoken promise.

He will absolutely not let anything or anyone hurt you, especially with the Cruciatus Curse.

Sebastian pointed his wand towards Skylar, inhaling a deep breath to focus himself on the task at hand. The Hufflepuff stood still, trembling as they shut their eyes tight, bracing themselves for the alleged unimaginable pain. You turned away with your eyes closed, unwilling to see the vile act play out before your own eyes.

“Crucio!”

The tip of his wand shot out a small flicker of red before immediately fizzling out, much to his sheer frustration. He casted it once more, only to be met with the same results. 

“Dammit!” Sebastian yelled exasperatedly, eyes glossing over with frustration and anger. “I can't cast it, Sky. Not on you.”

“You have to, Seb. You're the only one who can! I… I don't have the heart to do such a thing…” 

The despair that loomed over everyone in the room became denser as you swallowed thickly upon hearing the new present problem. You turned to Ominis, your gaze drifting from his hand that held yours firmly to his sullen expression, recalling what he had said before the both of you decided to dive within this situation.

“I’d much rather have you unscathed.”

With a sorrowful sigh, your other hand reached for his fingers that held you with protectiveness, gently wrenching yourself out of his grasp. You gave Ominis one final apologetic look before sprinting towards Sebastian and Skylar, your unspoken apology driving a dagger through your chest.

“I'm sorry, Ominis.”

“Sallow,” you somberly called out to the brunette as you stared at him piercingly with firm resolve. Ominis' sightless eyes widened, his throat running dry the moment you spoke the words he never wanted to hear from you.

“Cast it on me.” 

Sebastian darted his eyes from you to Ominis as his grip on his wand tightened. With an exhale, he points his wand towards you while Skylar backs away to the nearby wall. Every inch of you slowly relaxed despite the inward fear that ran rampant within you, acceptance seeping into your being as your eyelids fluttered shut.

“Perhaps this is for the best… For Uncle Lawrence… For Simon… For atoning my sins…”

Deft, slender fingers gripped his own black wand handle with ferocity before hurling a spell towards the freckled male.

“Cru—”

“EXPELLIARMUS!” 

Nearly blindsided, Sebastian quickly encases himself within a thin, spherical shell, deflecting the spell that Ominis had casted in the heat of the moment. 

“What the hell, Ominis?!” Sebastian yells, glaring at the blonde-haired male who pulled you closer to him grabbing your wrist possessively, taking slow steps back away from the door. His wand was pointed towards Sebastian, the frown on his face deepening upon feeling the prickling sensation of Sebastian's glower towards him.

“I meant what I said that only the both of you are to sort this out on your own, Sallow!” Ominis spat in vile disdain, warningly articulating his every word. “Leave her out of this!”

Sebastian scoffed contemptuously, his actions now fueled both by sheer anger and annoyance.

“This is not the time to play the hero, Gaunt,” Sebastian snarls, his wrath bubbling within him. “I'm not going to die in here just because you're being utterly ridiculous with your damned morals!”

“Sebastian, stop it!” Skylar hissed. “That's enough!”

Sebastian's eyes darkened, finally hitting his boiling point as he scornfully glanced at each one of you. Your eyes widened at his change in demeanor. His usual playful brown eyes now had a dangerous glint that you've seen countless of times within your occasional nightmares. 

The shackles of terror immediately ensnared you once again when Sebastian fired a spell aggressively towards Ominis, who quickly pushed you away and deflected the spell back by a hair's breadth. You sat on the floor helplessly, watching Sebastian hurled spell after spell towards Ominis, who was struggling to keep up with the barrage of light jets that were sent towards him out of maniacal fury. 

It was just like that day of great tragedy — the day that two precious lives were lost and you were the only one that made it out alive. 

If only you hadn't insisted on sneaking out of the estate on that fine summer day.

If only you weren't so darn helpless.

If only you weren't that curious in venturing into the unknown.

It was all your fault.

From your perspective, you were no longer within the dungeons. You were back in that dimly lit, dingy, dilapidated warehouse, seeing your younger self trapped within a cage alongside your elder brother whilst seated on the filthy ground. A cloaked, towering figure looms before you, his heavy footsteps getting louder and louder. Your eyes were met with another pair that contains the same dangerous glint that you had witnessed within Sebastian's eyes.

Anguished regrets welled up within you as he flashed you a sardonic smirk, whipping out his wand, and aiming it towards the cage beside you. Your eyes trailed towards the said direction, but to your sheer horror, it wasn't your younger self and Simon who was still manacled and trapped within the cage.

It was Ominis.

The cloaked figure raises his wand, his smirk morphing into a maniacal grin. You gritted your teeth, finally snapping and unraveling the ugliest side of you that you had desperately tried to keep under wraps for the sake of moral standards. Gone were your reservations of maintaining the upkeep of your so-called reputation as you shakily stood up, arming yourself with your wand. 

You won't let the same fate happen to anyone ever again — especially him.

Every ounce of the pain you've accumulated over the years coursed through your veins, serving as kindling for your long dormant unbridled rage as you stared at the root of your anguish straight into his eyes.

You wanted to hurt him — to inflict a pain so great that he grovels and begs for his life in tears. You inhaled blissfully at the thought, before casting a cold, condescending gaze towards him, uttering the incantation icily with no hint of remorse.

“Crucio.”

“SEB!!!!”

“... Seb?” 

A red blitz shot out from the tip of your wand, piercing through the chest of the person that stood before you. Crackles of red lightning coursed through their frame as they writhed in the worst pain of their life, screaming and crying out in pure agony. You released the person from the spell, your eyes beginning to focus on your present reality, only to be horrified upon realizing who you had casted the spell on.

Skylar Evans.

Your knees buckled as you watched Sebastian cradle them gingerly in his arms with a panicked, regretful expression. The Hufflepuff looked back at him with a weak smile on their face, attempting to reassure the brunette that they were alright despite taking the hit that was initially directed towards him. Guilt seeped within your pores, goosebumps resurfacing from your skin as your previous actions slowly ingrained itself within your brain.

“What have I done…?”

Your hands trembled as you bitterly gazed upon them with nothing but remorse before tucking away your wand back into your inner pocket. You couldn't bear to even hold your own wand at this point. It felt vile and disgusting, and you wanted to throw up just by thinking about the heinousness that you had committed in a fit of traumatic despair.

Ominis approaches your trembling frame, your breath ragged and tears prickling the corner of your eyes. He pulls you into a warm embrace, desperately trying to comfort you by rubbing your back gently, as shudders racked through your body. A sob escaped your lips, gripping his robes tightly.

The sounds of your sorrows crushed him, and he wanted nothing more but to soothe and rid you of  your pain, but all he could do for now was to remain still until you’ve completely calmed down. He felt your tears seep through his clothing, and he held you even tighter, softly hushing you as he ran his slender fingers through your locks of hair. You inhaled his familiar scent, slowly relaxing while listening to his steady heartbeat. 

He releases you from his embrace after a long while, cupping your cheeks to brush away any tearful remnants from your cheeks.

“I'll go check on Sebastian for a little while. Will you be alright?” Ominis softly asks. You nodded in response, a slight hiccup escaping your lips.

Meanwhile, Sebastian helped Skylar to stand up on their feet before the both of them ventured within the now accessible scriptorium. Mentally looking back at the aftermath with a hint of remorse etched onto his freckled visage: Ominis was visibly shaken from that unsolicited duel, you had just relived a traumatic event, and Skylar sacrificed themselves to save him from an Unforgivable Curse. The severity of the situation should've been discouraging to an ordinary lad, but not towards Sebastian.

It was a moment of triumph for him, and a step closer to finding a cure for his own twin sister's malady. The enthusiastic reaction from Sebastian upon finding Slytherin's spellbook caused Skylar to furrow their brows. It was as if the prior events didn't happen, and that brought a sinking feeling within their own gut.

As Ominis enters the scriptorium, you trudged towards the remnants of Noctua Gaunt, gazing upon her bones gloomily. Albeit your current reluctance to use magic no thanks to the harrowing series of events, you conjured up a gilded silver box encrusted with emeralds, putting the bones of Ominis' late relative within it after you've shrunk it down temporarily, holding the box firmly within your grasp.

You finally mustered enough courage to enter the scriptorium itself, approaching Ominis meekly, who still looked rather vexed with the entire situation as both Skylar and Sebastian left the place. Hearing your footsteps approach him, he gently smiles towards your direction. He was about to grasp your hand with his, only to find out that you were carrying a metal box of some sort.

Before he could query about what it contained, you beat him to it, erupting in shy stammers to explain your actions.

“...This isn't a good final resting place for your Aunt Noctua, so I figured we should at least bury her somewhere…” you mumbled. “... I could put her back if you don't—”

“No, please. I appreciate it, truly,” Ominis cuts you off as a pleasantly warm feeling engulfs his chest. 

How could he not possibly fall even harder for you at this point?

Ominis cleared his throat instinctively to diffuse his bashfulness.

“Shall we head back to your common room first? Perhaps discuss it on the way there?”

You smiled gratefully at his offer, agreeing instantly. 

The both of you exited the scriptorium promptly after, engaging in a rather casual conversation with each other while walking slower than usual to prolong your time together. Before heading to the Ravenclaw Tower, you and Ominis made a short trip back to the Slytherin Common Room, keeping the gilded box in a safe compartment within his own cupboards.

It was nearly lunch hour soon, yet it felt like an entire day had passed with how much had happened within the several morning hours. The both of you wanted nothing more than to just retreat into your dorm rooms for a long nap, or perhaps head to the hospital wing for some extra vials of Draught of Peace. 

“We're here,” you say to him as the both of you reach the stairwell leading to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Pleasantly enough, the place was desolated, with the good majority of students probably seated at the Great Hall for their meal. 

“Will you be alright?” he asks while you gaze upon him fondly with a chuckle escaping your lips.

“I will. A nap will probably do me wonders after all that chaos. As for my lunch, you don't need to worry. I'll just head over to the kitchens when I wake up,” you reassure him, your voice giving away how truly exhausted you are with its lack of usual mirth. He smiled gently in response.

“Very well. I shan't stall you any longer. I'll be in the Slytherin Common Room if you need me.”

You slowly inched back to the stairwell, a giddy little grin present on your lips as you stared at him with no reservations regarding your affections this time around. Ominis' heart fluttered, feeling the unspoken attraction floating about in the air.

“Thank you. I'll see you later, Ominis.”

You climbed up the spiral staircase with a slight skip to your step this time around, a hue of pink twinging your cheeks. You have to admit: the man possesses this uncanny ability of effortlessly making your day a lot better despite how jarring things get. 

How could you not possibly fall even harder for him at this point?

You soon approach the knocker of the Ravenclaw Common Room, its melodious, feminine voice speaking out a random riddle.

“I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, yet also the easiest to ignore. What am I?”

You smiled at the question, almost chuckling at the pure coincidence. You confidently spoke your answer with a faint smile.

“Love.”

< chapter 10: desiderata

chapter 12: the art of subtlety >

taglist (just let me know if you wish to be added. also please check if you have done the necessary settings for me to tag you)

@xadriianaaa @roohuh​ @pugsnotdrugs92 (i will never remove you from this list) @wolfiehardz​ @auxiliare​ @ohantonia​ @superblyspeedydragon​ @pnikfoyld​ @gh0stgirl333​ @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away​ @solene88​ @msfantasy​ @lilith-motherofdemons @marriedtoeddie​ @shameless0shenanigans​ @coruscaret​ @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​ @stuffyownswrld​

#ominis angst #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x oc #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis x f!reader #ominis x you #ominis x reader #ominis x y/n #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy

[april-is]

April 2, 2023: The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On, Franny Choi

The World Keeps Ending, and the World Goes On Franny Choi Before the apocalypse, there was the apocalypse of boats: boats of prisoners, boats cracking under sky-iron, boats making corpses bloom like algae on the shore. Before the apocalypse, there was the apocalypse of the bombed mosque. There was the apocalypse of the taxi driver warped by flame. There was the apocalypse of the leaving, and the having left— of my mother unsticking herself from her mother’s grave as the plane barreled down the runway. Before the apocalypse, there was the apocalypse of planes. There was the apocalypse of pipelines legislating their way through sacred water, and the apocalypse of the dogs. Before which was the apocalypse of the dogs and the hoses. Before which, the apocalypse of dogs and slave catchers whose faces glowed by lantern-light. Before the apocalypse, the apocalypse of bees. The apocalypse of  buses. Border fence apocalypse. Coat hanger apocalypse. Apocalypse in the textbooks’ selective silences. There was the apocalypse of the settlement and the soda machine; the apocalypse of the settlement and the jars of scalps; there was the bedlam of the cannery; the radioactive rain; the chairless martyr demanding a name. I was born from an apocalypse and have come to tell you what I know—which is that the apocalypse began when Columbus praised God and lowered his anchor. It began when a continent was drawn into cutlets. It began when Kublai Khan told Marco, Begin at the beginning. By the time the apocalypse began, the world had already ended. It ended every day for a century or two. It ended, and another ending world spun in its place. It ended, and we woke up and ordered Greek coffees, drew the hot liquid through our teeth, as everywhere, the apocalypse rumbled, the apocalypse remembered, our dear, beloved apocalypse—it drifted slowly from the trees all around us, so loud we stopped hearing it.

--

2022: For the Journalists Who Write About Ukraine, Julia Kolchinsky Dasbach 2021: For My Friends, in Reply to a Question, Safia Elhillo 2020: The Conditional, Ada Limón 2019: Dorothy Wordsworth, Jennifer Chang 2018: A Small Needful Fact, Ross Gay 2017: What We Need, David Budbill 2016: Husky Boys’ Dickies, Jill McDonough 2015: Why Some Girls Love Horses, Paisley Rekdal 2014: The Fox, Faith Shearin 2013: You Can’t Have It All, Barbara Ras 2012: Road Trip, Kurt Brown 2011: Onset, Kim Addonizio 2010: February, Margaret Atwood 2009: Domestic, Carl Phillips 2008: A Birthday, W.S. Merwin 2007: Words for Love, Ted Berrigan 2006: At the Trial of Hamlet, Chicago, 1994, Sherman Alexie 2005: The Waking, Theodore Roethke

#all of this has happened before #apocalypse #franny choi #colonialism #race #reproductive rights #immigration #modern life

[theoutcastrogue]

Shannon - Bedlam Boys

For to see Mad Tom of Bedlam, Ten thousand miles I’ve traveled. Mad Maudlin goes on dirty toes, For to save her shoes from gravel

  Still I sing bonnie boys, bonnie mad boys   Bedlam boys are bonnie   For they all go bare and they live by the air   And they want no drink nor money

I went down to Satan’s kitchen To break my fast one morning And there I got souls piping hot All on the spit a-turning.

There I took a cauldron Where boiled ten thousand harlots Though full of flame I drank the same To the health of all such varlets.

Me staff has murdered giants And me bag a long knife carries For to cut mince pies from children’s thighs With which to feed the fairies

No gypsy, slut or doxy Shall win my mad Tom from me I’ll weep all night, with stars I’ll fight The fray shall well become me

So drink to Tom of Bedlam Go fill the seas in barrels I’ll drink it all, well brewed with gall And maudlin drunk I’ll quarrel

The spirits white as lightening Would on me travels guide me The stars would shake and the moon would quake Whenever they espied me

The moon’s my constant mistress, And the lowly owl my marrow; The flaming drake and the night crow make Me music to my sorrow.

Original tune by The Halliard, first recorded by Steeleye Span as “Boys of Bedlam”, 1971. The lyrics are from “Mad Maudlin’s Search”, the reply to Tom o’ Bedlam, early 17th century. Other versions: Hickey and Sparks, Heidi Talbot, Heather Alexander, The Bedlam Boys, John Roberts and Tony Barrand.

#Shannon #Bedlam Boys #prison ballads #folk #punk #Tom o' Bedlam #Boys of Bedlam #the ramblin' rover #a begging I will go

[bedlamsbard]

I know this is kind of out of nowhere but for the longest time I was super weird and mentally dismissive of your burning out of Star Wars because I was someone who survived the OEU's insanity back in the day and managed not to burn out of Star Wars in the face of ridiculous nonsense like the Yuuzhan Vong and Killiks, so if I could survive that, you were of course entitled to dislike Star Wars but I still found it silly. Anyway I just finished watching Tales of the Jedi(Resolve) and I Get It Now.

...I recognise that may not be the most hinged thing to say to someone I don't actually know, and apologise for my mild to moderate insanity; I slept three hours, am very sick, it's shark week, and my brain seized on you as someone who'd Get It and who I had been hard on in my thoughts in the past, but, like, none of that actually affected you until I randomly said it? So anyway sorry for babbling at you like that lmfao, I'll stop talking now

Okay. I've been thinking about these since I saw them; I saw the first one before the second one arrived, which was a hell of a thing to wake up to since I saw it first thing in the morning. While my usual policy is to leave messages along these lines in my inbox, I was genuinely upset and wanted to respond once I had a more coherent reaction than "why me, gods, why does this always happen to me."

So, first of all, I'm sorry that you had an installment in canon that didn't do it for you; it happens to the best of us and there are very few people in fandom who uncritically (or even critically) enjoy everything in canon, especially in a fandom as big and long-running as Star Wars.

It's also very common for people to fall out of love with a fandom, even a fandom they've been in for a very long time; I would say that fen who have consistently been in one fandom for an extended period of time are probably rarer than those who haven't. It's not always because there is one installment that is just The Worst; often that's just a tipping point for fen who have been on the edge for a while. (Ask your average former MCU fan who left after Avengers Endgame.) Other times fen just drift away from a fandom without a reason to push them out. Maybe their favorite characters have died, maybe the canon is no longer telling stories they're interested in even if none of those stories are "bad," maybe it's a closed canon and without new stories there's nothing to keep them there; there's any number of factors.

I had a very dramatic breakup with Star Wars three years ago, and it was about three years after I really should have gotten out of the fandom, because I had not been having a good time for a while at that point. And honestly, considering that I hadn't had a healthy relationship with either Star Wars or the fandom for a while before that, for various reasons that go well beyond what was happening in canon, arguably I should have gotten out even earlier. However, I'm monofannish to a fault and I really needed something that would actually kick me to a new fandom -- which meant it couldn't come from Star Wars.

I don't really dislike Star Wars as a whole. There are individual installments that I quite dislike, there are some that I still love, and the vast majority of Star Wars I'm neutral on. I do however have a very fucked up relationship with Star Wars, including the canon, the PTB, and the fandom itself. I have gotten regular abuse on Wake and Gambit for the past ten years, which really screwed up my relationship with AO3 and with the prequel era. There is canon that I really, really dislike, some of it because it personally does nothing for me (the ST), some of it because from my point of view, it completely fucked over a story I love (Rebels S4, TCW S7, some other stuff that contradicts stuff from the EU I love; I came out of the EU too), some of it because I just plain don't like it (THR, most of the comics), and some of it because watching it just plain made me feel like I was being gaslit, which is not something I say lightly (Mando is the worst offender, but there are others). A lot of these are problems that could come out of any fandom, especially a large, long-running, multi-media fandom; I know a lot of Marvel people who have very similar problems, though I think the scale tends to be slightly different there just because the canon is set up differently.

When I switched fandoms, I had to recalibrate my entire relationship to fandom, to canon, to AO3, and to how I interacted with all of them. I still have to check myself in most of those places because my relationship with Star Wars had screwed me up so much. I had to train myself into being able to post on AO3 again; I do talk regularly about how a lot of what I write is shaped by trying to avoid getting the kind of reactions I got and still get from my Star Wars fic, even years later. I have to make conscious decisions not to engage with every part of the canon without feeling like a failed fan, especially the installments I'm pretty sure I'll dislike, because I tried to do that in Star Wars and it regularly messed me up. As a cosplayer, I still have a fairly bad reaction to even seeing the word "approvable," and it took a while for me not to have a similar reaction to "screen-accurate." I'm still destashing most of my Star Wars merch and right now, my reaction to seeing new Marvel merch isn't "ooh, would I wear/use this?" it's "when I inevitably have a horrendous breakup with this fandom will I be able to resell it?" which is not a really healthy relationship to have with a fandom. (I have mostly moved off this but not entirely.) I knew that Star Wars had screwed my relationship with Disney World, when I had a panic attack on Guardians of the Galaxy: Cosmic Rewind because I was so terrified that it was going to be ~necessary canon, even though Marvel has never operated that way; Star Wars does with Galaxy's Edge, which I don't really like being in anymore either.

And yes, I'm aware all of these are an extreme overreaction to getting out of a fandom. I'm not happy about it either and I wish it wasn't happening. It's better now than it was a couple years ago and I'm frankly glad I'm not in the fandom anymore; I'm happy for people who are or who have gotten back into it and are having a good time. I am not one of them; I may some day be one again, but probably not anytime soon.

But even if I didn't have this specific fucked up relationship with Star Wars, a fandom I have not been in for three years at this point, sometimes people just burn out on a fandom. I'm not a CSI:NY fan anymore, either. (Which my last big fandom prior to Narnia, which I just drifted away from. I've only been in five big writing fandoms over twenty years.)

#thelearnedsoldier #bedlam replies #I haven't been in star wars fandom for THREE YEARS #THREE YEARS

[drabbles-mc]

Latest & Greatest

Neil Fak & F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: family friend

Warnings: 18+, language, weed, pining if you squint

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I finished yet another rewatch yesterday and I just love Neil Fak so much. So here we are.

The Bear Taglist: @withmyteeth @garbinge @narcolini @hausofmamadas @ashlingnarcos @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was impossible to hear much of anything with all of the chaos going on. There were at least ten different conversations going on, most of them being conducted by screaming instead of talking. On top of that there was the clattering of pots and pans, items being thrown and dropped, not to mention Donna’s slew of timers. The ringing was all so staggered that no one could keep them all straight, least of all Donna. It was bedlam, but they all knew it was coming, and year after year they all kept deciding to come back.

Because of all of that, Fak hadn’t heard his phone the first time it chimed when a text message came in. When the reminder chime rang, he was too deep in a yelling match with Richie to pay it any mind. It wasn’t until all of the people who were usually occupying his time were being occupied by someone or something else, that he took the time to check his phone.

“Still doing Christmas at the Berzatto’s?”

He smiled, completely tuning out the rest of it for a moment as he replied, “Fence in 5?”

The response was almost immediate. “Clock’s ticking”

You were already outside by the time he managed to escape the house. You were leaning against the fence that divided the back of your yard from the back of the Berzatto’s, arms rested on top of it. You couldn’t remember the exact year this became the meet-up spot for the two of you during the holidays, but it had stuck ever since. It gave you a breather from your own family, and it gave Neil a break from the Berzatto’s, not that he ever really seemed like he needed one.

Every year he was in a different flannel and sweater combo. You wondered if he and Theodore flipped for it each year to see who got to choose. Not that it really mattered much since they both ended up wearing the same thing regardless. One year you were going to have to weasel your way into going on that shopping trip with them.

“Can’t stay away, huh?” you said as he walked over to the fence.

He raised his eyebrows, laughing as he came to a stop in front of you. “You are the one who—”

“I meant from Donna’s,” you cut him off, chuckling as you nodded towards the house behind him.

“Oh.” He laughed and gave something of a shrug, not giving more of a response. There wasn’t really much more to say about it. He made himself busy, fumbling with the button on the pocket of his shirt. You didn’t say anything, just pulling your sweater tighter around you as you watched him pull a joint out of the small pocket. It was enough to send both of you into a fit of laughter.

“Saw Francie earlier when I went to the store,” you said with a chuckle. “Still on the no-fly list with Nat.”

Neil shook his head as he sparked his lighter, mumbling emphatically around the joint in his mouth. “Because of the fucking thing!”

You laughed. “Doesn’t help that she never said sorry.”

“Maybe she took your spot,” he said once he lit his joint.

“My spot?”

“On the no-fly list.” He took a drag before handing it to you.

You were laughing as you placed the joint between your lips. You inhaled deep before responding. “I’m on DeeDee's not Nat's.” You shook your head. “Pretty sure I’m fuckin'…permanently barred from entry.”

There was a beat of silence between you, like the conversation was about to take a heavy, serious turn. But instead you both broke down into fits of laughter. There was so much that could be said about Donna being the one that banned you from the holiday festivities, but you didn’t know if it said more about her as a person, or about you.

“You hated Christmas here anyway,” he finally said when the laughter had died down. Even as he said the words he still had that same goading smile on his face.

“Most sane people would.”

“You’re not sane.”

You handed the joint back to him with a roll of your eyes, “Sane-adjacent.” You paused, watching him pull another hit. “My mom asked about you, by the way.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Bullshit. She did not.”

“She did!” You were laughing as he passed it back to you. “She asked how her favorite Fak was doing.”

“That does not mean—”

“And you’re my favorite Fak,” you kept going, talking over him the way you all always did with each other, “so by extension you’re also her favorite Fak.”

“What makes you so sure?”

You chuckled and shrugged. “’Cause I’m her favorite daughter.” A beat passed as you brought the joint back to your lips again. Your voice was slightly strained as you tried to talk without letting out your entire inhale at once. “So? What’s the latest and greatest?” You finally let go of the breath you’d been holding. “Catch me up on the last few months. What've I missed in the life of Neil Fak?”

He watched you for a second, staring at you as you stared down at the joint in your hand and tried to figure out how much more the two of you could even really get out of it. It was almost done, the rendezvous almost over.

“Got a new high score on Ball Breaker.”

You nodded, expression serious but the glint in your eyes giving away the humor of it all regardless. “Of course, of course.”

“The toilet at The Beef is still exploding every couple of weeks.”

“I think Richie breaks it purposely just so he can see you again.”

Another beat. Another second of you two staring at each other. Another shared fit of laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of that notion.

“How’s Ralph Squared?” you asked, trying to hold back just a little bit of your laughter over the fact that he named both his cats Ralph.

“Ralph are good! No escapes lately.” He tapped his knuckles against his head. “Knock on wood.”

Your smile was enough to nearly make your cheeks hurt. “Good.” You paused. “How are you?”

Fak shrugged and nodded. “I’m good.”

There was a look in his eyes that had you thinking maybe he wanted to say something more, but he didn’t do it. He wouldn’t. That’s not what these little meet-ups were for.  These were for both of you to get some fresh air and something similar to silence after spending hours in your respective war zones. Granted, Christmas at the Berzatto’s made your family Christmas seem like a walk in the goddamn park. But you still enjoyed the breather. Still enjoyed leaning on the opposite side of the fence from Neil and smoking together like you were still in high school.

“Please,” you joked, “spare me the details. Don’t get too carried away on me now—I only have so long out here.”

He rolled his eyes at you, face turning pink in a way that you both simultaneously and silently agreed to chalk up to the cold. He snatched what little was left of the smoke from your fingertips and finished it off, both of you chuckling quietly at the petulant child-like nature of it.

“You know how I am,” he finally said with a laugh. “You?”

You sighed, dropping your head so that your chin was resting on your forearms, forcing you to look slightly upwards at him. “Still waiting for you to get out of Chicago for a week and come visit me!”

“It’s so far.”

“It’s not that far.”

“It’s pretty far.”

You rolled your eyes but you were still smiling. It was the same debate every time you came home. You weren’t actually that upset about it—you knew who you were dealing with after all. The Fak's and the Berzatto's weren’t the types to just up and leave Chicago. Even if it was just for a week.

“I’m just saying,” you stood upright, adjusting the sleeves of your sweater, “I’ve got a pull-out couch with your name on it.”

“I don’t even get a real bed?”

“I hardly even get a real bed!” you shot back with a laugh.

“That does not make me want to come and visit you more. Just saying.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “I’ll work on that.”

Before either of you could try and say something else to keep the conversation going, the screaming in the Berzatto house reached a crescendo, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Neil tucked his chin down for a moment, gathering himself up before heading back in to see what the damage was this time.

“I’ll let you go take care of that,” you said with a small laugh as you crossed your arms over your chest, the cold finally starting to get to you.

“I’m sure Mikey's got it all under control,” he replied, getting both of you to laugh.

“Mm, I don’t know, sounds like it might be A Fak.”

He laughed. “It’s always A Fak that’s why they invite us.’

You shook your head, unable to stop the smile on your face. “Merry Christmas, Neil. Tell Theodore I said the same.”

“And Francie?”

You laughed. “Sure. You can tell her, too.” You took a step back towards your parents' house.

He gestured to the fence. “Same time next year?”

You had to laugh. “I’m here for the rest of the week—I better see you again before I go. Preferably not in, you know,” you gestured to the fence again, “fuckin' no-man's land.”

“Pfft,” he mocked deep confusion and offense, “Do I not come when you call? Do I not respond when you beckon? It’s what I do—I show up.”

You laughed. “I’m just saying.”

“I’m hearing, I’m hearing,” he said, smiling as he started to make his way back towards the house. “Merry Christmas!” he called back to you once you turned around and started to head back to your own house.

You laughed as you turned just long enough to shout back, “And Happy Fuckin' New Year!”

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #fak #neil fak #neil fak x reader #neil fak x you #x reader #x reader fic #navy and roo's sleepover #navy and roos sleepover #slumber party #slumber party bingo #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

[haveyoureadthisfantasybook]

I’m still looking for genre clarification for the following books:

Harry Harrison, The Steel Rat

Lois Lowry, The Giver (clarification provided!)

Adriana Mather, Killing November

Anne McCaffrey and Margaret Ball, Acorna: The Unicorn Girl (clarification provided)

I also accidentally replied privately to someone with a clarification question about Storm Constantine’s Wraeththu trilogy, which appear to be science fiction as far as I can tell. if anyone can clarify what would make them fantasy, please let me know! (clarification provided!)

if anyone has read them and can elaborate on whether they are or aren’t fantasy / do or don’t have fantastic elements, I’d appreciate it!

I’m also still waiting to hear back from original requesters about the following ambiguous submissions where it’s unclear whether they want a single book or a whole series (or what series they want):

Emily Croy Barker, The Thinking Woman’s Guide to Real Magic

Kira Jane Buxton, Hollow Kingdom

Jessica Day George, Dragon Slippers / Adam Gidwitz, A Tale Dark and Grimm

Rachel Hartman, Seraphina / Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunter Chronicles / Leigh Bardugo, Six of Crows

Lois Lowry, The Giver

I also replied to the same person as above privately with a clarification question about Mercedes Lackey and Ellen Guon’s Bedlam(’s) Bard series — if that was you (I forgot to write down the username, sorry!), let me know what you were looking for!

if you submitted one of these and have a preference for the first book or the entire series, please let me know!

#clarification requests

[catsafarithewriter]

A/N: PART 27 of the Bedlam au

X

The Other World has changed since Haru last left it. There are cracks in the brickwork, fissures in which webs have thickly scabbed over, and silk strands waft from the Sanctuary.

The mask has been dropped.

She meets no one as she strides across the courtyard. The air is uncannily still. She doesn't know why it unnerves her until she sidesteps another strand of web, undulating in an absent breeze.

She half expects a trap to spring upon her already, but she reaches the Other Burea's double doors without incident, and they open with ease.

"Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly," she murmurs beneath her breath, and steps inside.

The Other Baron – the Not-Baron, the Beldam – is sat at the desk Haru had seen her Baron occupying so many times before. There are even files spread out before him, as if he were mid-research for a case.

"So," he says, and his voice is distorted, but still recognisably Baron's, "you've returned. Come to your senses, I hope."

"I have."

"So what colour buttons have you decided on?"

"I said I've come to my senses, not that I'm agreeing to join you." She stays by the door, hands still curled tight around Baron's top hat and cane. "I know who you are now. What you are, I should say."

The Not-Baron smiles, and Haru catches a glimpse again of that monstrous maw. "Do you, now?"

"I know what it is you do – what the price is for the button eyes, Beldam."

"The Beldam is my sister," the monster replies. He rises to his feet with a fluidity that even the true Baron would fail to match – as if gravity had no pull on him. "If you're going to name me, I go by the Bedlam." Another smile, wider than the first. "Or you can continue to call me Baron, if you'd prefer."

"Bedlam it is."

"Suit yourself." He rolls the button box into his hand and lingers at the side of his desk. His lack of attempt to block off Haru's exit leaves her uneasy; he stands like a predator who knows he can outrun his prey – or that he has no need to. "And I don't think you really understand the full price of these buttons. There's far more at stake than simply your soul."

"The Bureau."

"That's right. Your so-called friends." The button box dances between his clawlike hands. "I'm sure you can figure out the deal I'm offering."

"You'll let them go free if I let you sew buttons into my eyes."

"It'll be quick and painless."

Haru highly doubts that – but what is one more lie for the Beldam compared to his multiple fictions? "And I suppose that's because after a certain point I'll be too distracted by the loss of my soul?"

"Such a small, inconsequential thing. Surely it's worth the ongoing existance of your friends?"

Her heart leaps into her mouth. "Where are they?"

"Hidden. Somewhere you'll never find them."

"Wanna bet?"

#bedlam au #cat writes #delayed this by a day for tbf stuff

[lulublack90]

Prompt 1 - Day

@wolfstarmicrofic January 1, word count 809

Opposite - Night

It was the day before the full moon, and Remus was antsy. His skin itched, and his hair stood on end all over his body. He felt feverish, and his joints ached. 

He could deal with being a werewolf if he only felt the effects when the moon was full, but the run-up to it just made it all that much worse. 

He needed to take his mind off it. As though Sirius had read his mind. He came sauntering in with that wild look in his eyes that could only mean one thing. Sirius had a prank ready to be played out. 

Instantly, Remus forgot how bad his body felt. Sirius gracefully flopped onto the sofa next to him. He leant back, folding his hands behind his head. Looking completely at ease. Remus waited for Sirius to ask. He knew he was going to ask. Oh, how he needed Sirius to ask. 

“Moony?” Sirius finally spoke, somehow managing to keep his face serious. 

“Yes, Padfoot,” Remus replied, slightly breathlessly.

“I have a plan, but I need some help to pull it off.” He turned his head towards Remus. “Would you be interested?” 

“Yes!” Remus said, unable to contain his excitement. This close to the moon, the wolf made it hard for him to control his emotions.  

Sirius’s grin illuminated his face. 

“Knew I could count on you, Moony.” He moved closer conspiratorially. “Third years are starting tea leaf reading in Divination this afternoon, and I have a rather large supply of nose-biting teacups…” He trailed off, not needing to say any more for Remus to understand. 

“Yes! Sirius yes! Can we watch? I wanna watch!” He was vibrating with energy. That wicked glint flashed in Sirius’s eyes again, stronger than before. He pulled the corner of James’s invisibility cloak from under his robes. 

“Way ahead of you, Moony, my old friend.”

The plan went off without a hitch. They vanished the ordinary teacups and replaced them all with the nose-biting ones. They picked a good spot at the back of the attic classroom where no one would accidentally walk into them. 

The trapdoor was pushed open as the Divination Professor climbed into the room, followed by the small group of third-years. 

“Settle down, settle down.” The crone-like witch called to the already quietly sitting class. “Everyone go and grab a teacup, and I shall bring around the tea.” The students each took one of the teacups from the shelf. Remus had to stuff his fist into his mouth to stop himself from laughing. He felt Sirius nudge him warningly. He tried to calm himself down before he gave them away. 

“Make sure you drink all the tea before you start trying to read the tea leaves. Do not make the same mistake as my class last year. Poor boy scalded his legs trying to read without drinking any of the tea.” She shook her head solemnly.

“Poor, Pete,” Sirius whispered into Remus’s ear, then had to add his own hand to help cover Remus’s mouth as he shook with laughter. 

The room was mostly quiet as the students all waited for the tea to cool enough to drink. 

“Alright, class.” The Professor announced, “Your tea would be sufficiently cool enough now to drink from.” She picked up her own cup as the 15-third years all lifted theirs. 

There was a moment of slurping and then Bedlam. People screaming, chairs flying and tea cups smashing. The class fled, trying to get away from the snapping china. The Professor was having a terrible time removing her cup from the end of her nose. It seems to be a particularly vicious one. 

The chaos was more than either Remus or Sirius could have hoped for. Within minutes, the classroom was empty. The screams and shouts grew quieter as the third years ran from the tower. 

Sirius pulled the cloak off them. They looked at each other silently and straight-faced for a second before they both fell to the floor, rolling around in peals of laughter.

“Godric, that went better than I could have ever imagined.” Sirius gasped between laughs, brushing the tears leaking from his eyes from his face. 

“Sirius, that was perfect. I love your brain.” Remus choked out, an arm wrapped around himself as if he needed to hold himself together. 

“Right, come on,” Sirius said, trying very hard to pull himself together, “Before someone comes to see what’s going on.”

They managed to climb back down the ladder without hurting themselves. Once at the bottom, Sirius threw the invisibility cloak back over them. 

“Don’t want anyone seeing us coming out of the tower, or they’ll know it was us,” Sirius murmured to Remus as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower, bursting into howling laughter when they pulled the invisibility cloak off, safe in their dorm room.                

#wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #remus lupin #sirius black #remus john lupin #sirius orion black #the marauders’ era #marauders era #marauders #Day #nose-biting teacups #I love it when a prank comes together

[mycological-mariner]

You mentioned a play you wrote about Hannah Snell in one of your ask game replies; would you be willing to share a little more about the play? This sounds so cool!

Sorry for only just getting to this! You and @clove-pinks both asked about the Hannah Snell play so I shall tell about the Hannah Snell play.

So, while she was still trying to get her pension for her 5 years of service, Snell would go around performing in her marine uniform, telling audiences all about her time in the army and eventually navy, how she had to hide her sex, the trials and tribulations, etc. Now there’s no surviving transcription of any of these performances (not that I could find at least rip) so I thought it might be a fun opportunity to a) do a solo show which I’d never done and b) get to imagine what she might’ve said and how those performances would’ve gone!

Originally it was an 8 minute solo piece that I ended up extending into, uh. Not 8 minutes. I think it came around to about 30–45 minutes? With the extra time I got to play around with how much of the truth was being stretched, exaggerated or left out. I thought it might be fun for an audience to know something was up but being unable to verify one way or the other (kind of like now and anyone trying to pull apart myth and fact). Might’ve gone over. But then I had trouble with the venue and finding tech and stage crews and etc. I wasn’t going to be able to cover costs so I shelved it. Which was quite sad. However I’m still wanting to do it!

I think that, if I save enough and if I get the time, I’d like to bring it back. Though I’ve been wanting to rewrite it to include two or three other cast members. The idea this time is a mix of talking directly to the audience and telling them the Story Of Hannah Snell, Lady Tar and then cutting in with what might’ve been more likely to happen or parts of her story we know more about now that she might’ve left out altogether. The flogging scenes, for example. So, a bit more creative wiggle room. Never just making things up or anything but being honest to this part of history and the record she left. The ending will always make me rather sad though. I’ll say this much that stayed between all 3 iterations: while Snell might have just left her story with her eventual leaving and calling for public support for her pension, in reality she remarried twice and I believe she lost two more children in infancy (she had already lost one before the military), and her mental condition (it’s never stated WHAT mental condition) worsened so much that she was committed to Bethlem — THE Bedlam — where she would die in 1792 at age 69.

In the play, she drops the performance and speaks openly and honestly about how her life ended. About her legacy or lack thereof, and how so much of her story will always remain unknown or at least unverifiable through all of the sensationalism surrounding her in her life.

I’ve always been interested in the legacy of people contrasted with their just humanness. Like, Snell’s story is so much more story than fact. I like to keep the fact that all these people were just being people. And it’s especially true when a button seller finds herself the subject of a Narrative, fully deserving of the capital letter.

Thanks for asking, both of you!! Sorry if I rambled on a bit, the Hannah Snell Play is near and dear to me. Now if I could just get other people near and dear as well, we might be able to perform this thing lol

#thanks for the ask!

[soulnb42]

Times Like These (part 4)

AO3

Part 4

Ava couldn’t sleep. After her little meltdown, Beatrice had made plans for the next few days, ordering their ‘to-do’ list by priorities. They had waited a couple of hours for the tablet to come to life, it hadn’t. Eventually Beatrice had called it a day. As per her announcement she had let the bed to Ava and was now lying on the couch.

Ava glanced at Beatrice again. She was lying still, her hands intertwined over her stomach, but Ava knew she wasn’t sleeping either because her thumbs were silently beating the seconds away.

“I keep thinking about what you said earlier.”

Ava’s voice was a whisper but in the thick silence of the small room, it echoed like a shout.

“And I wonder what would happen if Lilith and Camilla shared a bed.”

“Well, believe it or not, they cancelled each other out,” Beatrice replied almost immediately, amusement clear in her voice.

“Really?”

“Yup. Camilla immobilized Lilith with one of her rolls so there were no flailing and everybody was safe.”

Ava laughed softly picturing the scene. “Sounds like you guys had some fun.”

“Yeah, it’s not always about fighting demons, sometimes we have trips to small towns to provide some help on one thing or another.”

Beatrice spoke about the trip that had led them to share beds in the first place. Ava saw clear pictures in her mind, she felt the affection and the bond between the girls. When Beatrice fell quiet, Ava also felt a smidge of envy, wishing she had that kind of bond, of community. In a way she’d had a very shirt taste of it, for a short while, first with JC and his friends, then with Beatrice and the others.

The light mood dimmed a little at the thought. The unspoken worry about the fate of the other sisters hanging in the air. Ava wanted to ask Beatrice if she thought they were okay, but kept quiet.

As if the universe had decided to answer her silent query, the tablet came to life with an electronic tune. Beatrice sat up immediately to take the device, Ava came to sit by her sides in seconds.

After a few manipulations a window popped up and Camilla’s battered face appeared on screen. Beatrice and Ava both sucked in a small breath in surprise and relief.

Camilla’s face was marred with bruised and cuts, her left eye blackened. In spite of her appearance her calm and soft grin was there, still in place. “Hey guys, it’s good to see you,” she spoke with obvious relief.

“Are you alright?” Beatrice asked.

“Yeah… it’s not as bad as it looks,” Camilla dismissed her concerned with a wave of her right hand which was in what appeared to be a soft cast. “I’ll be good as new in a few days. What about you?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. In a safe hideout,” it was about all Beatrice could say as far as their location went.

“Good,” Camilla nodded. “Good. We’re on the move as well. I’m not sure where we’ll settle yet.”

There was a pause then Camilla launched into the tale of what had happened on her end. She had managed to reach Lilith again, by then Mother Superion had joined the fight as well as some much needed back up. It had taken many hours to get the situation somewhat contained.

“It was bedlam… right now they’re trying to spin a plausible narrative of the events. There are still possessed out there but they’re managing…”

“I’m sorry, we couldn’t help…” Beatrice said. She knew that they didn’t have the choice as their first mission was to keep the Halo and the Halo bearer safe, still, she couldn’t help the guilt she felt at leaving her sisters behind.

“I’m just glad you two are safe.”

Silence fell upon them and Beatrice felt ice settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong and her suspicions were only confirmed when Camilla bit her cut bottom lip.

“Camilla, what is it?”

“We… we’ve lost track of Mary.”

Beatrice and Ava glanced at each other; both felt the new set on their shoulders like a lead chap.

“She hasn’t reached out yet… with all the commotion… there were so many… we just… lost track…”

“I’m sure she put herself to safety,” Beatrice said with all the conviction she could muster, trying to be reassuring. “She’s resourceful, you know that.”

Camilla nodded, but the worry etched on her face did not recede.

“We’ll go look for her as soon as Lilith is back on her feet,” Camilla added. “She has never disclosed where she was living when she wasn’t staying with us and ever since Shannon…”

Camilla didn’t finish her sentence but Beatrice knew what she meant. Mary had always been private when it came to her whereabouts, she had always valued having something just for herself. Shannon was probably the only one to have been let in into her sanctuary. After losing Shannon, Mary had retreated to herself a little more and there had been many days when she’d disappear, whenever she was back it was as if the previous days hadn’t happened.

Mary would reach out when she was ready, as she always did, Beatrice knew it. She just hoped that she wasn’t too badly hurt.

“She’ll get in touch in her own time,” Beatrice voiced her thoughts.

“Yeah…” Camilla chose to believe her; it was better than thinking about the alternative. “I shouldn’t stay too long, just in case. I’ll get in touch again soon. We might need to keep the contact to a minimum for now, like once a week…”

“You’re right.”

“You two keep each other safe.”

“You as well.”

Camilla waved goodbye before cutting the feed.

Ava let out a heavy sigh as she buried her face in her hands. On the one hand she was relieved because they finally had news and most of them were okay, on the other, Mary was MIA and that… that didn’t sit well with her. She felt like she was going to be sick. All of this was her fault and now, someone she cared about was probably hurt and nowhere to be found.

Beatrice opened her mouth to say something, but remained silent in the end, not certain to have the right words. She put a comforting hand on Ava’s back instead.

After a couple of minutes, Ava raised her head to look at Beatrice; “Do you really believe Mary is okay?”

“Yes,” Beatrice said firmly without any hesitation. “It won’t do us any good to think otherwise.”

It may not be the words Ava needed to hear, but it was the truth. Beatrice had to believe everything was alright for Mary. Faith was all they had right now and she’d hang onto it just like she always had in the bleakest moments of her life.

Ava bobbed her head in acceptance, but she was clearly still upset at the situation.

“We should try to get some rest.”

Ava accepted Beatrice’s order without resistance and quietly went back to bed, turning on her side so her back was to Beatrice. She clenched her jaw not to let out the sob that had bubbled up in her throat. She let tears fall silently on her cheeks though.

She wasn’t sure where she stood as far as faith went but at this moment, she was praying that Mary was indeed okay, hoping that someone or something was listening.

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