#only five fics!!! and probably being whittled down to four

[elasticella]

37 for the fic asks, too ^-^

37. Talk about your current wips.talking about wips is so much more fun than writing them yknow? alright we got:

1) margo/penny from the magicians, a canon divergent two disaster bis fucking around with magic and messing up, i Hate writing this ship, which is really unfortunate as it is my second favorite ship from the show, but like both of them have such distinctive characterizations and it feels like i’m always missing a beat from one or both of them >.

2) bonnie/kai post canon soft horror vibes: fun fact, every time i try to seriously write this fic, four times for those of you at home keeping score, i end up writing a different bonkai fic, so really this is a spot for any wandering plot bunny X)

3) cho/luna yule ball au, it’s probs gonna be scrapped for parts, it’s just not working *shrugs*

4) alex/jane from the bold type because they’re canonically roommates now *shipping confetti* a post season 3 thing, possibly with some side kat/tia and lauren/sutton if it gets long enough or i blatantly introduce a moment to shove all my rarepairs in the reader’s face lmao

5) annie edison/annie kim from community: this one miiiight be going to the graveyard folder, it just doesn’t have any spark to it, i do still want to write them, maybe just with another concept

[lehhoh7822]

This- well.

So. I needed to make something for lesbian day. But I can’t art (I know what I said and I meant it) and I understand that I could improve if I worked on my art skills but- to put it simply, no.

And my writing- my writing is horrid. I mean, I can’t construct decent endings, most of my plot points don’t make sense, my OCs are messes that are generally there because I had a really good story idea... which eventually just whittled away into said character, and I’m so bad at getting the dynamic right, so most of my fanfiction reads as painfully ooc. And writing? Writing is the thing I value the most about myself. It sorta hurts to admit these things, but this is how you grow. You tear yourself apart, hug your torn up ego and try to get better. 

With that all said, I’m also anxious, mainly about the fact that I don’t want to be a ist/phobic asshole. So I tend to not stray into deeper waters, which would probably be good for me but- sigh. 

With all of that said, I present to you my Lesbian Day Fic with a bunch of my old OCs you’ve never heard of. (And it’s poly. Yes. )

This is technically going to be part of the Remus and Roman Heal fic which I’m combining with the I love my Headcannons fic.

Also, I will post a more ansty version later.

CW: Vague descriptions of trauma, basic mentions of trauma-induced flashbacks. If there’s more please tell me.

This is relatively tame, especially for this group of characters.

And it’s okay.

Iza looked bored. Eve looked like she was planning on killing Iza (which, was sorta fair, considering she was icing over the table again). And, Lauren just looked dazed. Lauren always looked dazed. Lauren had been through so much and- well. They weren’t going to judge her because she looked dazed.

“Iza.” Eve hissed slightly, her eyes flickering darkly. “I swear to Itanni that if you keep icing over the damn table I will summon a void creature and feed you to it.” 

“Was I meant to be summoned, or did you guys miss me?” Amelie joked, popping up into the room, the tendrils of darkness coiling back into her hair. 

“Sorry Ams.” Eve said. “I was threatening to feed Iza to a void creature because she keeps pulling an Elsa and freezing over the damn table.” 

“Ouch. You still only think of me as a void creature.” Amelie said, her voice, while sounding joking, was barely covering up the actual, poorly-hidden hurt.

“We think of you as OUR void creature.” Iza said, clenching her fists so the ice wouldn’t keep spilling out. 

“OUR void creature.” Eve repeated, then shrugged. “I’m all for weird nicknames that quietly suggest that we’re in a massive polyamorous relationship.”

“Well, they wouldn’t be wrong.” Amelie said, kissing the top of Iza’s head, which made her blush and ice shot across the table like spikes.

Eve was torn between laughing at her partners’ antics or losing her shit about the ice, which was quickly melting and spilling all over the floor. She chose laughing. 

It was rare, the days when Iza wasn’t fixing a layer of Sanctuary, the days when Eve wasn’t trying to help rescue one child or another, the days when Amelie didn’t spend half the day helping Itanni send out missions because of something to do with a need for diversity (which was the longest running joke in the group because Amelie was there to be the braincell of all of the tiny operations Itanni had forgotten about) and the other half battling the void creature, which was her own nature, but she would just curl up alone in a lonely fold of the universe and try to silence the unrelenting urges to consume and destroy. And then, the days when Lauren wasn’t trying to pick up the pieces of a broken reality and her own mind, which- they had decided to not talk about yet- 

The point was, being close together was hard. 

So there they were, in the Sanctuary commons, all of which waiting for some news (apart from Lauren, she was brought here because she was getting that glassy look in her eye and when that happened it was only a matter of time before the words they conditioned, or, more, burnt into her brain) and then they were just being together. There was a massive sense of satisfaction.

And then they were just sitting and talking, and Amelie was getting surprise kisses at Iza, who would try to throw tiny ice shards at her, which she would disintergrate before they could even get close. 

There were not fires, no drama, there weren’t bad guys to fight.

It was lovely.

And the Eve noticed that Lauren hadn’t said anything in a while. Not a good thing. 

So she approached and reached for her shoulder. 

Lauren was spaced out completely, eyes focused on a spot in the distance, and it would look like she was half asleep if her body wasn’t so tense that it looked like she might explode if even a tiny bit more pressure was put on her. 

And the fact that there were flames leaking from her hands. 

Flashback.

Shit. 

“Iza?” Eve called gently. “Iza, can you come over here?”

Eve was good with the kids. The new ones. Lauren was different. Everything was different.

“Yeah?” Iza called, looking concerned, then her concern rose as she saw Lauren. 

Everything was- they didn’t go down that path.

Iza knew how to do this. Iza had been put with Lauren when she had been dumped at the children’s home with temporary amnesia and a lot of fire.

Then Amelie was up and watching them and she was wincing slightly from the tension in the atmosphere. Eve felt it too.

Iza’s hands filled with ice. And then she held Lauren’s hand, careful to avoid her wrists and waited for the reaction.

At first Lauren flinched, her body tensing further. Then she was shaking, and gasping and whispering their names and that this was a flashback and she had survived. She was no longer there.

Iza made the ice a bit colder, enough for Lauren to blink and look around. Enough to start to ground her.

“What are five things in the room that look like they should be chip shapes?” Amelie blurted, trying to remember what to do. And whatever they said for these few moments, they needed to be careful.

“The weird tattoo on Iza’s arm that looks like a butterfly-lion hybrid.” Lauren mumbled, gaze unfocused but still there.

“The little pyramid thing that yo- WE made together.”

“The d-lamp, which we all know is off brand Amelie.” She said, managing to muster a sense of bravado

“The shards of ice on the floor.” Lauren said, leaning into her chair. 

And then Amelie was quietly asking “Hey can I touch you?” and Lauren was nodding.

And then bits of the void were wrapping around Lauren and holding her tight. 

“We love you.” Iza said, her ice wrapping around her hands like an instinctive reaction to the pain in the room.

“I love you too. I’m just-” And then she cut herself off and Eve let her form show and joined in on the hug, kissing Lauren lightly on the ear and pulling them tight. Iza smiled at her partners, bodies entangled, being ever so gentle because the world outside was ever so rough and it was perfect.

And Iza went down there and was hugging her girlfriends, letting it all work itself out. And it was going to continue being horrible but it could be horrible to the four of them. 

Lauren looked sorta sleepy in Amelie’s arms, and Eve also looked like she was burnt out. But Lauren was almost actually sleeping, and Iza, who was known for being the ‘meanness’ one out of the 4, thought it was unfairly adorable.

And they were holding each other and this was love. 

This was love.

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

Hi! Could you do another fic with Harry and Hagrid? I love their relationship and how you write it, so I'd love to see something - especially if it has the rest of the trio in it, too. Thanks :)

Happy birthday Hagrid!

“Quick, quick! He’s on the way! Behind this tree!”

“Behind which tree? Where are you?”

“Over here! Ron! Quick! Harry, your feet are sticking out!Put them away!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll just levitate shall I?”

“There’s no need to be—ow! Whose elbow was that?”

“Not me, I don’t have any elbows.”

“I think I’ve got pine needles up my nose.”

“Could be worse, you could have pine needles up your—”

“SSH!”

The three of them stay as still as possible, peering throughthe branches of a particularly large and bushy tree as the door to the GreatHall swings open with a creak and Hagrid shuffles in backwards, puffingslightly as he carries another large Christmas tree into the room. “There shegoes,” he mutters to himself, propping it up along the far wall. “Righ’ then.Tha’s another one done. Let’s get—’ang on a moment.” They watch, collectivelyholding their breath as Hagrid strides over to the teachers’ table, mutteringabout how it wasn’t like that a moment ago.

It certainly wasn’t.

Professor McGonagall had met them at the gates after lunch,smuggling them into the school in a manner that suggested they were about aswelcome as the contraband Wheezes products that turn up everywhere. She’d led them at a rapid pace to the Entrance Hall,demanding that they duck down so as not to be seen “And cause a riot,” as theypassed the Charms classrooms, and, as Ron had muttered (very quietly) inHermione’s ear, it was hard to shake the feeling that she was about to taketwenty points from Gryffindor just for coming up with their plan.

“He’ll be back with another tree in about five minutes,”she’d informed them crisply. “And I need not remind you that you will have tobe out of here by four thirty so as to be out of the way of the house elves,who will need to set up for the evening meal.”

“Of course we will be, Professor,” Harry had assured her.

“For goodness’ sake, Potter,” she’d snapped. “I haven’t beenyour teacher for four years now. You can call me Minerva.”

He’d all but jumped to attention. “Of course, Professor. Er.I mean.”

Her lips had twitched. “Don’t worry. Your father was justthe same. Now, hurry! You don’t have long!”

“Yes, of course,” Harry had said, as Hermione doubled therate at which she was conjuring fully inflated balloons from the end of herwand and Ron gave up making sure the Happy Birthday banner was perfectly leveland just hurled sticking charms at it instead. “Is there anything else?”

“I think that was it,” she’d said, taking her leave.“Except,” she added, pausing in the doorway, “the staff and I all think thatthis is just lovely. And if we didn’t all have teaching responsibilities, we’dbe joining you.”

“We’ll send the leftover cake down to the staff room,” Ronhad promised.

“I look forward to it. I’ve heard much about your bakingability, Mr Weasley.”

Ron, flustered, had nearly dropped the cake he was easingout of the box he’d carefully carried it in. Harry places a couple of nearly wrappedgifts on next to it, whilst Hermione kept watch, and now…here they all are.

Harry glances at the other two and nods. “Surprise!” theyall shout, jumping out from behind a tree.

Hagrid laughs, happy but surprised. They sing Happy Birthdayand gesture to him to blow out the candle on the cake, which was indeed made byRon, but was also iced by Harry, and so says HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAGRID in greenicing. “Make a wish,” Hermione says cheerfully, handing him a knife to cut themall slices.

“What are yeh all doing here?” he asks, taking the knife offher.

“Top secret Auror business,” Ron says promptly. “We heardthere was a very urgent matter at Hogwarts that couldn’t possibly be left toanyone else to deal with. When in doubt, call the best Aurors in the businessout.”

“Wha’s Hermione, then?” Hagrid asks, beard twitching.

“Window dressing,” says Ron, and Harry laughs.

“I never thought so,” Hagrid says gallantly, and Hermionebeams. He cuts them slices, passes them around, and there’s a brief silencewhilst they eat Ron’s divine cake.

“Yeh know,” Hagrid says, finishing first, “yeh really shouldn’thave. Yeh shouldn’t’ve done all this for me. I know how busy yeh all are, like,and I’m not—”

“Never to busy to come back to school,” Ron says quickly. “Youknow I love school.”

“We wanted to see you,” Hermione adds at the same time. “Oh—andGinny wants you to know that, if she wasn’t playing a match in Malaysia right now, she would be here too. Withbells on, she said.”

Hagrid protests—not about Ginny, it’s clear he believes thatof her, but there is still a lingering surprise that they’ve turned up for asnatched hour, on a random Monday, a couple of weeks before Christmas, for him.

“Well, birthdays get a bit forgotten at this time of year,”Harry says, gesturing around him at the trees. Hagrid’s brought them all in, sothere are, as usual, 12 standing around the perimeter of the Great Hall. Thesmell of pine is overpowering—in a good way—but it doesn’t feel like Christmaswithout them being festooned with decorations.

Hagrid tries to protest this too, but now Harry shouts himdown properly. “Trust me,” he says. “I know what it’s like to have a forgottenbirthday.”

“S’not the same,” Hagrid says at once. “My birthday was neverignored. Me old man used to take medown the Hog’s Head every year…I could always get served, somehow. Pint a’butterbeer each, tha’s all. Nothin’ bad. And then, when he was gone, Dumbledoredid the same. Great man, Dumbledore…”

“Well, next year we’ll do the same,” Harry promises.

“You’re buying,” Ron adds, and everyone laughs. Somehow,this breaks the tension enough for them to insist he opens the presents they’vebought him. They’re just a gesture, really: Harry and Ginny have sourced a newwhittling knife—he’d complained, over the summer, Ginny had recalled, that hisown was getting a little blunt—and Ron and Hermione (via Charlie) have got hima new ethically sourced pair of dragon hide gloves that actually fit.

He thanks them all profusely, exclaiming over them, andinvites them down to his house for tea. “I’ve got some rock buns left over,” hesays, “or mebbe we could just have more of that cake…” He eyes Ron’screation, then seems to remember himself. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve all gotstuff to do. Places to go. Yeh don’t have to come to mine. It’s nice enoughthat you’ve done all this.”

“Actually,” Harry says, glancing at Ron and Hermione. Theygive almost imperceptible nods, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out amagically shrunken sack. As it appears, it grows back to its full height—at leastthree feet, and fully stuffed. He hands it to Hagrid, who looks for all theworld like a Father Christmas who’s forgotten his costume.

“Am I auditionin’?” he asks at once, beard twitching again.

“We said earlier it’s an awkward time to have a birthday,”Harry begins. “People are busy at work, trying to get things finished beforethe break.”

“Or they’re saving all their holiday for Christmas,” Ron adds.

“Not us, of course,” continues Hermione. “We’re happy to seeyou here today. But not everyone could make it.”

“You know what it’s like,” Ron says. “I mean, you’re a Professornow, and all!” Hagrid’s face—what’s visible, at least—turns pink. “You knowwhat it’s like to be busy at this time of year.”

“But a couple of people we asked to come, who couldn’t,asked if they could send you a card,” Hermione says. “And we said we’d be more thanhappy to pass them on.”

“But then, a few more people heard. And then a few more. Imean, we only let them know late last week, it wasn’t like we had this plannedfor months,” adds Ron.

“But word spreads,” Hermione nods. “The old Order crowdwanted to send you a card, the DA. Ex-students, people from Hogsmeade… We’restill trying to work out how word got around, really.”

“So we ended up,” Harry says, piping up again, “planning totake up a cake, maybe a present or two, and instead we got…well…this.” Henods towards the sack, and Hagrid gently pulls it open, taking out the top twoor three cards. There’s all sizes, big and small, thick and thin—but they’veall got his name on the front. He turns the few he’s picked up over a fewtimes, as if this will somehow change if they’re rotated enough times.

“I don’t know this many people,” he says.

“Clearly, you do,” Ron says. “Or maybe this many people knowyou, is that the same thing?”

“Either way, we should probably open them at your place,because Professor McGonagall wants us out of here in ten minutes, and I thinkthis might take longer,” Hermione puts in. “Shall I grab the cake?”

“I’ve got it,” Ron says, so instead she steps forward totake down the balloons, and Ron organises the plates.

“Are you sure…” Hagrid begins, looking at Harry, as theother two subtly busy themselves, but he trails off.

“Do you remember,” Harry says quietly, “in my first year? Myfirst week, you wrote to me and asked me to tea. That was my first piece ofpost. Aside from my school letter, it was my first piece of mail ever.” Hagrid shrugs, but it’s clear hedoes remember. “I was clearing out some of my stuff the other day—Ginny and Iare moving in together next year, once she’s back, so I thought I’d get a headstart—anyway, it’s not important. I just came across it—I’d saved it, yearsago. And I remembered I’d never got you a birthday present—”

“Yeh didn’t have to,” Hagrid says at once, and Harry waveshim off.

“But I wanted to,” Harry insists. “So I mentioned it to Ronand Hermione, and they were on board. And I asked Nev and Ginny and Luna, andall of them wanted to, but they’re all away. So they said they’d send a card,and then the Order heard about it, and most of them said they would—I’d becareful with the one from Mundungus, that’s a bit of a hazard, maybe—and then,well, I guess it’s like Hermione says. Things snowballed a bit.” He nodstowards the enormous sack.

“An’ all these people…they wanted to write to me?” Hagrid asks, and Harry pauses forall of half a second.

“Obviously.”

[tenroseforeverandever]

Dear Father Christmas... Chapter 7: December 24, 2022

MASTERPOST

Characters:  Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: When Tony decides to run away a few days before Christmas, the Tyler household is in an uproar, but he learns a valuable lesson in his absence..

Notes: Love to my wonderful beta team, mrsbertucci and @rose–nebula. You two are the very best!

A little angst and hurt/comfort. I love this one. Please enjoy.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. A reminder that I am using the prompts very much out of order, but I intend to use them all. The prompt I used today was Bells.

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2022

Dear Father Christmas,

Sometimes things seem to happen at the most inconvenient times, and it can be incredibly frustrating. And sometimes it seems those frustrating experiences happen for a reason, that the universe has a grand plan. What happened this past week was one of those experiences.

Me and the Doctor had just taken the TARDIS out on an unexpected diplomatic mission for Torchwood to Trunfleerin, a small Earth-like planet in the Gamma Quadrant. Because of the official nature of the mission, and because we were bringing several other people along, we decided it was best to leave the kids with Mum and Dad. It was a bit of a wrench, though, leaving the family this close to Christmas. Sometimes these missions end up taking way longer than expected, and while we have a time ship at our beck and call, we’ve vowed not to “time it” unless absolutely necessary. We use the TARDIS for time travel, yes, but just to visit places in the past and future; we never use it to make up for lost time in our own timeline, however tempting. The Doctor could cite all kinds of reasons for this, but for me, the most important one is that it whittles away the time you get to spend enjoying your forever with your family, ‘cause you’re aging yourself faster relative to them.

So when the invitation came in from the Trunfleerineen, as Extraterrestrial Ambassador to Earth, I couldn’t exactly decline, no matter how close to Christmas it was.

One of the Trunfleerineen ships had crash-landed on Earth, a little over a year ago and they’d been impressed with the kind welcome and aid they’d received from us Earthlings. They wanted to thank us for our generosity, and said they’d be honoured if we could stay for a few days and participate in the “Mourning” with them.

The Doctor told us, back in the Prime Universe, the Trunfleerineen were utterly decimated by a species called the Annexians; they’re sort of parasitic, I guess, unable to reproduce the normal way. There’s a long history there I’m not going to get into at the moment, but anyway, apparently they’re notorious all over the quadrant for kidnapping the young of other species to gradually and painfully turn them into Annexians through genetic manipulation. Only the children of a species will do, as they’re still developing. Once they reach adulthood, they are only good for slavery or breeding.

The Trunfleerineen are basically humanoid in appearance, with beautiful dark skin, huge green and yellow eyes, and tall tufted ears. They’re gorgeous, but they’re very delicate: small and slender, with fragile bones. Completely vulnerable. The Doctor says the low gravity on their planet probably contributed to that. The point is, being built the way they were, they were useless as slave labour, and in the Prime Universe they were slaughtered. In this universe, they were spared. No one knows why. Maybe the Annexians plan to come back and harvest them later. At any rate, they’re just thankful for a second chance, but they’ve been left devastated by the loss of their children. The Mourning ceremony we will be attending is held annually to honour those lost souls.

We’d been there a couple of days, visiting various sites all over their beautiful world, meeting the first baby born after the invasion (he was only four years old, Charlie’s age; every single child on that planet was younger than him), and attended several diplomatic functions. Just prior to the Mourning ceremony was a banquet of thanks for the lives spared and for the newly created lives that had a chance at a better future.

At the banquet, I was seated next to one of the females; Thir was her name. She had me in tears telling me about her babies who were taken, and her mate who was killed defending them. She was just telling me how she had been chosen to open the Mourning ceremony this year, when I was interrupted by my mobile blaring out the Imperial March from my pocket.

Mum.

She was completely frantic. Tony’d run away, and they couldn’t find him… anywhere! It was like he’d just disappeared off the face of the Earth (Mum’s words but I couldn’t help wondering if there was more truth in them than she knew.)

The day we’d left, he’d told them he was staying overnight with a friend; then they assumed he’d been at school the following day. He’d had footie practise scheduled for that night, and it wasn’t unusual for him to get in late from that. Dad was late at work and Mum had fallen asleep watching telly, exhausted by my three hooligans, so they just assumed he’d slipped in unnoticed and gone to bed. So it was only the next morning when they found the horrendous note he’d left them, informing them he was sick of them telling him what he can and cannot do all the time, and that it was time he struck out on his own. That was the gist of it anyway.

I felt a weird combination of things over that call with my mum: relief that my own babies were safe and well; and a whole mess of different emotions about Tony. First of all, despite being a bit frightened for Tony (especially once Mum got a hold of him), I knew he had a good head on his shoulders and was pretty resourceful. He’d be all right. I made sure I told Mum that, but she wouldn’t listen. I could hear Dad in the background, trying to be a voice of reason, agreeing with everything I was saying.

Secondly, I was more than a bit shocked. My straight-laced brother saying stuff like that, even in a note, just blew my mind. He’s always been so… well, so good. Not perfect, by any means; he’s a Tyler, so his independent streak shows up quite often. But, independent or not, he’s always played by the rules. Bent them sometimes, but never broken them. Now, apparently, his “inner-Rose” is starting to show, and rule-breaking is back on the Tyler table. Blimey, right before Christmas, too! I gotta hand it to the kid, he knows how to maximize the impact of his actions. And yes, I admit, that was another thing I was feeling: a bit of (very restrained) pride.

After speaking with the Doctor, we decided I should return to Earth to help find Tony and to provide moral support for Mum. Our hosts were, of course, totally gracious about me leaving, especially with how the nature of the situation (a lost child) resonated with them. I went straight to the TARDIS and entered my coordinates (I’m quite adept at piloting, now) but had the Doctor check my settings just to be safe.

Dad texted just before I left. It turns out three days ago, Tony had been seen entering Torchwood. He’d told security he was meeting Dad for lunch. Thing was, he was never seen leaving, and he never showed for lunch. And it turns out one of the Doctor’s perception filters that he’d been working on had gone missing too. I showed the Doctor the message, and he quietly passed me his sonic. He gave me a kiss and told me he hoped I’d find Tony soon. As the doors closed behind him, I reached to press the launch button, but instead, activated the sonic, casting it around the room.

Sure enough, there was Tony, watching me in confusion from an arm chair up in the gallery. He didn’t know the perception filter wasn’t working anymore; he was just wondering why I hadn’t launched. I saw the moment the ball dropped and he realized I was making direct eye contact with him. His face turned so red. Blimey, he looked terrified.

He made his way down to me, soooo slowly, avoiding meeting my eyes, which was just as well; I was struggling to keep a stern expression on my face. I mean, half of me wanted to throttle him, but the other (somewhat smaller) half wanted to give him a high five.  

He started to panic when he saw me texting into my mobile. I told him I was just telling Mum and Dad I’d found him and that he was safe. I also told them I’d bring him back after the Mourning ceremony.

Mum was probably going mental, but he wanted to travel the stars, well, this was his big opportunity.

He was about the same size as most of the Trunfleerineen, so they were able to provide us with some formal robes for him. When we walked over to meet the Doctor and take our seats in the amphitheatre around the symbolic Tree of Life, the Doctor arched a critical eyebrow at Tony and the poor boy’s face flushed beet red again. He looked like he wanted die of shame, especially faced with the Doctor’s displeasure. I’d seen the way he looked at the Doctor. I knew the look well from my reflection in the mirror, especially when I had first been traveling with him: he had a bit of a crush on the Doctor, and wanted him to be proud of him. I could hardly blame him.

As night fell, and the entire amphitheatre was finally filled, everything suddenly went quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever been to such a solemn or beautiful tribute. I don’t think I ever will again. The silence was broken by the most exquisite sound: a tiny chime in the night, the sound of a bell. It seemed to reverberate and grow, and as it grew, a single light began to shine on the Tree of Life. It was followed by two more chimes, two more lights. I could just make out my friend, Thir, standing down by the tree: this was her tribute to her three lost babies. Then all around us, the air filled with the sound of hundreds upon hundreds of bells; the Tree glowed. Tears were flooding down my cheeks and when I looked at Tony, he was sobbing quietly beside me. I put my arm around him, and he snuggled against me. The Doctor draped a protective arm around us both.

Once the ceremony was concluded, we gathered our delegation and offered our gratitude and condolences to our hosts. They asked us to stay for several more nights, and I have to say, I was proud to hear Tony speak up on our behalf. I wish I could remember his exact words: something about thanking them for their generous offer, but that this time of year, for us, is one we like to spend with our families, and after the tribute he just witnessed, he really just wanted to give his own mother a hug for all the worry he’d caused her. Pretty mature. I was impressed. I’d say the future of Torchwood is in pretty good hands.

He and Mum were beside themselves when we got home, yesterday. Mum was furious, but just so relieved to have him safely returned to her. It reminded me a lot of how it had been when the Doctor brought me back after being away for twelve months instead of twelve hours. Fortunately, this time, the Doctor wasn’t on the receiving end of a Jackie Tyler slap.

Hope, Charlie, and Wilfred came barrelling out to see us when they heard our voices, and Charlie, jumping up and down, asked if we’d be able to go to Yultidia again this year, since there was still another whole day until Christmas Eve. I had to give her a “we’ll see” ‘cause I wasn’t sure if Mum needed me to stick around for moral support.

As it turns out, we did make it to Yultidia. Not only that, but with the help of my very persuasive children (my darling husband knew when to keep his mouth shut) we convinced Mum and Dad (mostly Mum) to put Tony’s punishment on hold for a few days (to be honest I think he’d already learned his lesson) and the entire family actually came on board the TARDIS for a trip to spend all of Christmas on Yultidia. Mum claimed she was “too bloomin’ fagged” to make Christmas dinner, this year, anyway, but if we ended up on some prehistoric planet getting eaten by dinosaurs, there’d be hell to pay.

Yultidia’s where you’ll find us tonight, Santa! Love to Mrs. Claus, the elves, and reindeer too!

Happy Christmas, Rose

[queen-scribbles]

Last Night Tavi

Based on several prompts from @haledamage for the PoE Fic Swap 2017. On AO3 here.   I couldn’t decided, so used three in one fic:

 Tavi and Aloth have to share a bed, for REASONS

Drunken shenanigans

Aloth is always biting his lip. Tavi finds it very distracting

 (Heavy on the drunken shenanigans bc TAVI, light on the bed sharing. I'll have to rectify that in another fic.)  

 There wasn’t much in this world that Tavi considered distracting. (And yes, awareness of her surroundings was distinctly different from being distracted) High on that very short list, however, was the way Aloth bit his lower lip whenever he was concentrating or deep in thought or both.

Very much like he was doing right now, in fact. His gaze was fixed on the mug sitting in front of him, as if hoping to find the solution to whatever problem he was worrying in its depths. Even as Tavi set down the small wooden fox she’d been whittling, finally accepting there was no way she could concentrate with him doing... that, he sighed a little, brows drawing into a worried frown.

“Whatcha worryin’ about this time, city slicker?” Tavi asked, pocketing her knife and figurine before taking a drink from her tankard.

He turned to look at her, gaze lingering on the bandage wrapped around her hand and arm. “Not so much worrying about anything in particular as it’s truly sinking in how close a call today was.”

She shrugged, unable to stop a glance of her own at the still-red cut along his cheekbone. “We’ve fought more’n that before.”

“Yes, when there were six of us,” Aloth countered. “Not two. You said yourself, Tavi, if you’d been alone you probably would have run.”

“But I wasn’t alone. I had you.”

“And it was still a close thing.” He picked absently at a nick in his mug rather than drink the contents and bit his lip again. “You... you almost bled to death-”

“And you got poisoned,” Tavi cut him off bluntly. “But we’re still alive, and far as I’m concerned, that’s all that matters.”

“I do seem to recall simply mentioning that I prefer you alive,” Aloth said with a wry smile. “Perhaps I should be more specific in the future.”

“Perhaps you should,” she laughed. She finished off her drink and motioned the barmaid for a refill. “Don’t get me wrong, I am pretty fond of livin’. Even more fond of you livin’. But my point here, city slicker, is we survived this one, so there’s no benefit on dwellin’ on how badly it could have ended. We’re alive, if slightly worse for wear,” she acknowledged, her knee twinging as she shifted in her chair.

“So let’s just get on with the business of living?” Aloth finished for her, reasonably safe in his guess at where she’d been going with her little speech.

“Zacktly,” Tavi nodded, only feeling the slightest bit tipsy. “I’ll drink to that.”

He chuckled fondly. “You’ll drink to just about anything.”

“S’true,” she agreed easily. “But, c’mon, survivin’ attempt number twenty three on my life’s as good a reason as any.”

“Very true,” Aloth conceded, smile finally reaching his eyes.

Still, Tavi knew he was still nursing his first round as she was starting in on her third. But that was probably a good thing. One of them should be sober, and it sure as shit wasn’t her.

>><<

She was awakened by a headache, and with one of the worst hangovers she’d had in years. Since I left Silversteel. The thought dredged up memories that made her head hurt worse, and Tavi groaned as she forced her eyes open. It took a few seconds to blink things into focus, despite the aid of the morning sunlight streaming through the window.

Focus brought with it more confusion. As her vision unblurred, Tavi was greeted by the sight of a nightstand, bare walls, a fairly solid door, all the trappings of your typical inn room. Including an undisturbed and very empty bed between her and the door. How... Where...

Hylea’s tits, even forming full thoughts hurt. But the old ingrained instincts triggered by unfamiliar surroundings kicked in, and Tavi rolled onto her back and started to push herself upright. She was stopped halfway by two things-- another splitting pulse of headache, and the sluggish realization she’d rolled over almost on top of Aloth, who had somehow managed to fit himself between her and the wall despite the narrowness of the bed and was sleeping with one arm wrapped around her waist. Well, had been sleeping. Tavi’s flurry of motion dragged him awake as well.

To his credit, he woke much more smoothly than she had, despite nearly getting a face-ful of elbow. “How’s the hangover?”

She just groaned and flopped one arm over her eyes as she tried to sink further into the pillow. “Mornin’ t’ you, too, city slicker.”

“That bad, hm?” he asked, voice pitched low in sympathy.

Tavi groaned again. “No talking...”

The bed creaked and Aloth’s hair brushed against her shoulder as he reached over her to retrieve something from the nightstand. “Fortunately, I’m prepared for this eventuality,” he whispered, and pressed a small glass vial into her uninjured hand.

Sighing at the effort, she shifted her arm and pried open one eye just enough to squint at him. “I’ll bite. What is it?”

“Something for your headache. I had a feeling it was going to be bad,” Aloth said, letting his arm rest across her stomach again, fingers absently rubbing soft circles just above her hip.

Only half believing it would actually work, but willing to try anything at this point, Tavi reluctantly sat up, flicked out the stopper, and drank it fast enough the bitter taste barely registered. It took a couple minutes, but whatever it was did dull the edges of her hangover, at least enough she could remain upright without too much effort. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Aloth nodded, sitting up as well. He shifted position so he was perched cross-legged and facing her. Tavi very nearly kissed him for not making her look toward the window to talk to him.

“So,” she began, keeping her volume low in consideration of her lingering headache, “why’re we crammed in this bed together when there’s another perfectly good one right there?”

“I... may have been worried about you,” he said slowly, looking sheepish.

“Why?”

Rather than answer, Aloth picked at the blanket for a moment before meeting her question with one of his own. “What do you remember from last night?”

That couldn’t be a good sign. “Nothin’ past round three. Why? What’d I do?”

He bit his lip, and Tavi got so lost staring at his face she almost missed it when he started talking. “Quite a lot. I’m not sure where to begin...”

“How ‘bout you just go in the order things happened, city slicker,” she groaned, flopping back into the nest of pillows.

“As you wish,” he shrugged, fingers idly playing with the ends of his hair as he began. “You were fine through the first three rounds, as you know, but round four was when you started threatening to stand on the table and sing-”

“Oh no.” I have a bad feeling-

“-and five rounds was when you actually did.”

FUCK. “Oh no. I sound like a rusty hinge when I’m sober, I pity all of you who had to hear that. What did I even sing?”

“Well.” Aloth winced sympathetically. “I’m not entirely sure. You weren’t really singing words for the majority of it.”

“Fuuuck,” Tavi groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t let me drink anymore after that.”

He hesitated. “I wasn’t going to. But you kept insisting just one more, just one more, and you’re even more stubborn drunk than you are sober, so... round six was when you almost started a bar brawl.”

“That sounds like me,” she conceded with a wry smile. “Haven’t done it in years, but... did whoever I went after deserve it, or do I need to go make a heartfelt apology sometime today?”

“You could say the former...” Aloth hemmed.

Tavi sat up and squinted at him. He’s so easy to read. “Which of us did he compare to a plaything?”

Aloth’s surprise was there and gone in a flicker, followed by a sheepish smile as he tugged on a narrow lock of hair. “How did--  Me. Followed by offering his services when you were ready to have a real man.”

She scowled. “Berath’s bony ass, tell me I decked the bastard.”

“Twice,” he nodded. “That’s when his friends realized what was going on and looked ready to get involved, so we were... asked to leave. I was also worried you were going to tear the stitches in your hand,” he admitted, “I would’ve stopped you anyway.”

“And that’s why I love ya.” Tavi glanced down at the bandage covering her knuckles and winced at the fresh bloodstains peeking through. “Might be too late for that, but I ‘ppreciate the thought.” She pulled him closer by the front of his shirt and stole a quick kiss before letting go. “Any more drunken shenanigans, or did I behave myself after that?”

Aloth gave her a skeptical look. “Tavi, you don’t behave yourself when you’re sober.”

“True.” She raked her uninjured hand through her hair. “Continue.”

“There isn’t much more, don’t worry,” he assured her. “You kept going in zigzags, and tried to walk along the rim of the fountain in the middle of the city.”

“D’you mean what I think you mean by tried?”

“You fell in,” Aloth confirmed, biting his lip to keep a smile in check, and a pulse of something warm and fluttery curled in Tavi’s gut. “Or, well, started to.”

“Bullshit,” she groused. “I have excellent balance. Even when I’m drunk.” Tested it plenty of times, too. But that way lay thoughts she didn’t want to think.

He shook his head. “It was nothing to do with your balance and everything to do with trying to rest your entire weight on a leg that suffered a crossbow quarrel to the knee less than ten hours beforehand.”

“I was just a mess last night, wasn’t I?” she muttered.

“Yes. But I didn’t mind. Not if...” he hesitated. “Tavi, was yesterday really the twenty third time Those People tried to kill you?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Usually didn’t hafta deal with that many, though. Like I told you, there was only one other time that was such a close call. That time I ran--well, hobbled off and hid--but yesterday I didn’t have to. And I still walked away from it ‘cause I had you with me.” She reached over and brushed her fingers against his arm just below the bandages wrapped around his bicep. “Dunno what I’d do without you, Aloth.”

“Fall into fountains, I expect,” he teased, wry but quiet, reaching to cover her hand with his own.

Tavi snorted and rolled her eyes, hair falling back in her face as she laughed. “Asshole. I thought ruinin’ touchin’ moments with sarcasm was my thing.” She cocked her head and shot him a questioning look. “Though if I almost fell in the fountain b’cause my knee gave out, how’d we get to th’ inn? I can’t imagine walkin was easy for m-” she narrowed her eyes at him. “No.”

“Piggyback isn’t that hard, Tavi,” Aloth shrugged. “And I’m-”

“Stronger than you look, I know. Still manage to forget it all the damn time.” She tucked her hair behind her ears again. “Anyway. Was reliving my drunken shenanigans an attempted dodge, or just a really roundabout way of explainin’ why we’re sharin’ one bed rather than each in our own?”

“The latter,” he said. “Given your... other shenanigans, as you put it, I was worried you might wander off without supervision and do serious damage to yourself or others.”

“An ignoble fate for the Watcher of Caed Nua,” Tavi deadpanned, playing with the loose end of the bandages wrapping her forearm.

“It was less big picture concern and more me not liking the thought of the world without you in it,” Aloth admitted, smiling as he leaned forward to still her hand.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Tavi murmured, half teasing and half serious. “So, what, you squeezed in with me and wrapped an arm around me to keep me in bed?” She smirked. “City slicker...”

Aloth rolled his eyes at the look she was giving him. “It was nothing like that and you know it-”

“Yeah, but you’re fun to tease.”

He ignored her interjection, though his ears did go pink. “I simply figured on the slight chance you didn’t remain dead to the world until morning, you’d wake me as well, and I could, well...”

“Keep me out of trouble?” Tavi supplied with a grin.

“Basically, yes.” Aloth looked away, out the window, biting his lip.

Gods damn it all, he is way too distracting when he does that. “Thank you.” She waited until he turned to face her again before continuing. “It’s been a really long time since I had someone who cared so much about what happened to me. It’s nice.”

“I could say the same to you,” Aloth said quietly. He shifted position, leaning closer. “I very much appreciate having you in my life.”

“Stop bein’ flowery an’ kiss me already, Corfiser,” Tavi growled playfully, sitting forward as well, the unraveling bandage forgotten.

“Very romanti-” Aloth started to tease, before she curved her hand around the back of his neck and tugged him into the desired kiss.

“How long do we have this room?” she whispered, resting her forehead against his.

“At least one more night, but Tavi-”

“Relax, city slicker, I’m not thinkin’ anything like that,” Tavi assured him, hand sliding from his cheek to rest against a suddenly tense shoulder. “It’s not like this is the first time we’ve shared a bed without anything frisky goin’ on. Wonderful as that whatever-you-gave-me was, I still have a headache. I was askin’ more to know how long I have before I have to act like there’s not a xaurip playin’ drums in my skull.”

“Oh, well, in that respect you have plenty of time,” Aloth replied. “But there are things we should do.”

“Like what?” Tavi asked, stealing one last quick kiss before she laid back down in the soft cradle of her pillow.

“Like a return visit to the healer so he can rebandage your arm and hand.” His fingers brushed over the bandages in question, loose and dingy after her antics the night before. “And we really should tell a local authority about what happened so they can dispose of the bodies, at least.”

“Or,” Tavi countered, eyes closed. “Or. We wait for th’ fuckin’ banging in my head to go away, go back ourselves, and pile and burn the bodies. I know you know spells that involve fire.”

“A compromise, then,” Aloth said, voice lowering in pitch as he lay down next to her. “We wait a few more hours for your headache to lessen, if not go away entirely, then inform the authorities but take care of the bodies ourselves.”

“Deal,” Tavi agreed without hesitation. “Long as we can just lay here in silence for a while first.”

And that’s exactly what they did.

[thedegenerateasexual]

spot the reference: anchor edition

i’m doing this for my own pleasure and no one else's but you'll probably enjoy it anyway because man the callouts i give myself in this post you don’t have to read the rabid dog section it got Long

anyway this is just a list of references either to the show or to other stuff that i put in this fic, because i've been in the UT fandom too long not to enjoy hiding stuff in my work. it doesn't even go into the GIANT list i COULD make of all the neat research tidbits or foreshadowing to That Last Part. one thing at a time. if you haven’t read anchor this post spoils the absolute best part so maybe don’t click the readmore!

PART I

"I can do what's necessary," Argent repeats, voice hushed. They pass under an outcropping of rock, throwing them both into shadow. "I can. I will."

this is a throwback to a line chris says in 4.05 IED, when he and derek are down in the hale vault, discussing what to do about kate. [gifs]

"We'll catch up to her," Chris assures him. "My family has been hunting things faster than us for hundreds of years. It's a marathon, not sprint. She uses up this much energy now, she'll be a little slower later."

Somehow, Derek doesn't find that very comforting.

this is something derek says to chris in 2.12 Master Plan, upon being told of their temporary truce. he knows he fucked up [gifs]

"It's rough terrain. We'll have to take it on foot."

"Not exactly." Chris sucks the last bit of salsa off one thumb and stands. He jerks his head over at a dusty-looking red motorcycle parked just a few feet away. "That's ours. Until we catch Kate, anyway. A little rickety—but it's all-terrain."

so this was partially because research told me a lot of people prefer bikes to travel around mexico, but also because three other protagonists i’m fond of use bikes to great effect. did not know this before deciding on the bike, but apparently JR Bourne is also a bike guy. (you’re welcome!)

PART II

Life is so strange. It's Derek's very first bike ride, and he spends most of it half-asleep, snuggled up next to an Argent.

“life is so strange” is my very favoritest line...from a fanfic i like about some dumbass horndog named barnes

Tonight Argent dreams of Kate, sitting on the bed next to him in Allison's old bedroom. "I want to honor the code," she tells him sadly, "but I can't do this myself." She has the knife positioned over her heart, gripping it with white knuckles. "Chris," she pleads. "Help me." The full moon is coming. "I don't want to die alone."

"i can’t do this myself - chris, help me” is something victoria says to chris in 2.09 Party Guessed. [gifs] the rest of it came from, uh, someone else. (:

One night Derek tells Chris about the auto repair shop he and Laura both worked in while they lived in New York and discovers Chris has a love of classic cars.

"Laura, too," Derek says. "I mean, I like cars all right, I picked up some stuff from her, enough to do most of my own repairs, but she was really the car person. She had this...1960s, I don't remember what year, it was Mustang she was restoring, bit by bit. Champagne gold."

Chris lets out a low whistle. "Now that's a machine. What happened to it?"

"Told the owner she could keep it when I left town," Derek says. "It really was more Laura's thing. She was picky, wouldn't drive anything that she could outrun. That was Laura," he sighs, "drove 25 over every speed limit, smoked like a chimney, and always looking for an excuse to pick a fight. She was almost a worse alpha than I was."

"But great taste in cars," Chris says. "I used to have this black 1967 Impala I liked to work with in my spare time. I've always wanted to restore one from scratch, but after I got married and we started moving around, it was too much trouble to lug around the extra vehicle with us—black cars are so hard to keep clean. I had to take up whittling instead."

the 1967 impala is, of course, from supernatural, and it’s all @marcusanthotius​ emily’s fault, as evidenced here, and i’m never taking that post down so she has to live with it forever. the mustang is a car my own dad used to love (and if you’re curious, it was a 66). “black cars are hard to keep clean” is something chris said during the infamous windshield-washing scene in 1.03 Pack Mentality. [gifs - none of that particular line, but this is the scene]

PART III

"It triggers the shift," Chris says, rubbing his neck, "by means of raising your pulse." Derek listens to Chris's again—sure enough, his heart is already pounding. "It taps into the rage, the bloodlust. Makes you rabid. It's a kind of endless loop of feedback—the more your pulse raises, the worse the rage, and the more powerful the rage, the more it raises your pulse. Eventually even a werewolf's heart will just give out. The only reason to use it at all is that most werewolves aren't capable of burning it out of themselves when they're in that state of mind. So it's a sure death for the werewolf—but a sure death for anyone else nearby, first."

Whatever Chris learned about the wolfsbane is wrong. Maybe because no one who's been hit with it has ever survived it; they had to make guesses from the outside. And from the outside, Derek knows he looks furious. But he's spent most of his life wrestling with rage, and this isn't just rage.

It's also terror.

so i’ve talked about this before, but i actually didn’t realize i did this until much later that i accidentally ripped off supernatural AGAIN for this: in 4.06 Yellow Fever, which is a BAD EPISODE, fight me, people get infected with a “ghost sickness” that causes you to feel more and more fear until your heart beats so fast it eventually just gives out.

Argent swallows, hard. "The year of the fire," he says unsteadily, struggling with the math, because he can't quite remember when that was. What year was Derek born? How old is he—in his twenties, right? "Two-thousand—five? Six?"

"Fifteen," Derek replies, very very quietly, "is the number you're after. I was fifteen. The fire happened on my sixteenth birthday."

i did this as a shoutout to jesse turner of @cambionverse, who is a lot like derek in general, and also had a very devastating fire happen on an important birthday of his, in part because he too got tricked by a hunter with a pretty face. (chris isn’t a great guesser, by the way - canon keeps changing the date of the fire + derek’s age when it happened, but in this fic, the fire was in 2004.)

Chris exits the bathroom and leans against the doorframe, watching Derek with his arms folded. "Pourquoi est ce que je devrais apprendre l'espagnol," he asks, looking almost fond, "quand tu est là?"

His French isn't bad, actually—Derek would give him a B+ for the effort.

this is a real thing that happened to me in real life when i was watching 1.12 Code Breaker with @machidielontheway coralie, who is a native french speaker and helped me do the french translations for anchor. when chris spoke the original code in its original french, she had to rewind it to listen again, and ultimately said JR’s accent was all right but not great and gave him "a B+ for the effort." chris was originally supposed to be a native speaker of both english and french for this fic, but that was so funny i just had to change it. (coralie and i have a lot of fun when it comes to french.)

Derek dips a little lower and finds a barely-noticeable scar on Argent's hip, a dark spot that's just a little indented. "Hmm." He strokes a thumb over it thoughtfully, presses it into Argent's skin. His other fingers then naturally come to rest on four identical marks further back on Argent's side. "Something with claws."

the second @cambionverse shoutout of the fic, a much tinier one, this is also a line from the first chapter of cambion: "What happened to [Bobby]?" "Something with claws." Ben stays still for a moment, then lifts a hand to the deep gouges on his shoulder.

"You listen to my heartbeat when I say it, Derek. It wasn't about you. New anchor or not, I know you won't hurt me, and I meant it when I said I wasn't afraid of you. But Riley—" Chris looks away, swallowing hard. "Riley terrified me."

riley was named for sam wilson’s tragically fridged-for-character-angst wingman in captain america 2: the winter soldier. yes, really. his last name, roux (which never appears in the fic), sorta-kinda means red, which sorta-kinda works as a reference to his alpha eye color at the time of his death. “riley” and “rabid” also both have five letters, begin with R, and have the same number of syllables, vowels, and consonants. (this is the first time riley’s name appears in this fic despite him being important from the very first scene; only took 35 thousand words...repression, much?)

PART IV

Riley lets out an earth-shaking roar, and lunges. Chris ducks, and Riley's claws leave deep gouges in the concrete wall behind him where his head was only moments before.

"Riley, listen to me—"

in pacific rim, yancy says a near-identical line to his brother right before he dies: “raleigh listen to me—” (hi, cally!)

There's growling from closeby, and glowing red eyes flash in the dark—Chris rolls. There's a table here where they keep weapons, and—yes, his hands close around a shotgun, he stands and whirls—

"Riley, stop! I don't want to hurt you—don't make me hurt you, please—"

this one is a reference to 3.22 De-Void, when chris says to derek “i don’t want to kill you, derek, don’t make me kill you, please” while he’s under the nogitsune’s spell. [gifs, kinda, they’re part of a set]

Chris isn't as upset anymore—not hyperventilating or flashing back—but his tears seem endless, starting anew every time they seem ready to slow. "I'm sorry," he says several times. "I'm sorry, this isn't me, I don't know what's wrong with me—"

in 1.11 Formality, after kate tells allison about werewolves and the sheriff catches her speeding and crying, “this is not me” is what she repeats to herself very harshly to get it under control. repression is kind of a family trait i guess :(

Derek starts towards the cabin, but Chris catches him by the shoulder. "Hang on," he hisses, "what are you gonna do, just run in there with no plan?"

"She is," Derek says, with as much feeling as possible when you're also trying to be totally silent, "right there." He jabs a finger in the cabin's direction. "I'm going to go and kill her. That's been the plan from the beginning."

"Exactly," Chris says, "she's just there. In that nice big dark house full of who-knows-what. I don't know, don't you think that's a little—"

"Don't say 'too easy'," Derek warns. "People say 'too easy,' bad things happen. Trust me, I'd know." Lightning flashes closeby, briefly illuminating the trees. "None of this has been easy."

"So, what," Chris says, "we just take her by surprise, and that's it? You don't think it's dangerous to underestimate her like that?"

"Two on one—" Derek eyes Chris critically. "—well, one and a half—we can't lose. She thinks we're dead, remember? She'll never see us coming."

"I don't like it," Chris says, folding his arms. "It's too easy."

There's a rustle from the undergrowth nearby.

in 1.12 Code Breaker, scott and derek have this same conversation, reversed, after scott frees him from where he was being held prisoner by kate. (that’s how he knows.) it’s worth noting that as soon as derek agrees scott is right, he gets shot twice by allison, accompanied by kate, and he and scott BOTH get blinded by allison’s flashbulb arrow. in 6.10 Riders On The Storm, scott and stiles have a similar conversation when they find the switch to divert the ghost riders’ train, this time with stiles insisting they let it be easy; they decide to go for it and promptly get their asses handed to them by the nazi alpha werewolf. [gifs] (thank you cathy <3)

"Like I said: the more they kill, the crazier they get. The crazier they get, the more they kill. Even if he means well, he won't be able to stop himself from attacking you eventually; it's just his nature. I know it's a hard time for you right now, but you've gotta be prepared, huh? He's helping you right now, but we hunt those—"

"—who hunt us, yes," Argent finishes, trying to keep his annoyance in check.

"You don't know the things about him I do," she hisses, her breath hot on his ear, "you don't know how cold-hearted he can be. Sooner or later he's gonna see you for the animal you are, just like he's seeing it in me. That's his nature. And I guarantee you, Derek—" His hands grab at her wrist, tugging uselessly. "The next thing he'll slip between those pretty pink lips of yours will be his .45."

this warning is given once to chris and once to derek, and it's a reference to a story deaton tells deucalion in 3.08 Visionary, when warning him that he cannot trust gerard:

When the scorpion asked the frog to carry him across the river, the frog said, "How do I know you won't sting me?" The scorpion replied, "Why would I do that? Then we'd both drown!" So the frog agreed. Halfway across the river, the scorpion stung the frog. When the frog asked him why he did it, since now they would both die, the scorpion replied, "It's my nature."

fun fact: this story was also originally the prologue of the fic before i changed it to the first version of the rabid dog story (which wouldn't quite fit anywhere else).

THE RABID DOG STORY

this is technically in part iv, but since it’s too big to quote in its entirety, i’ll just give it its own section, because of course i wound up going on way longer than i meant to (i get excited and explain this to a lot of people, so it's handy to have it typed down in case i wanna explain it again). the story/plot device in general is a sort of "reference" to two things: a 1970s TV show about the korean war called M*A*S*H, and 2.10 Fury.

so the original inspiration for this plot point came from M*A*S*H. the show follows a "mobile army surgical hospital" which is a fancy way of saying it's the medics who treat the wounded. in the finale (spoilers...you've been warned lol), the main character hawkeye has been committed to a mental institution after a nervous breakdown. he tells a story about a party that happened on a bus: how everyone was screaming and yelling and having a great time, how one person "couldn't wait" for the bottle of whiskey. but the more often he tells the story, the more details that change: the person was actually a soldier, and the soldier was actually wounded, because the whole bus was full of wounded (thus the screaming), and the bottle was full of life-saving plasma, not whiskey, and the soldier in question LITERALLY couldn't wait.

hawkeye tells a story about a refugee woman that had a chicken that wouldn't stop clucking, and when they were forced to pull over to hide from the approaching enemy, he told her to make it be quiet so they wouldn't all die. and she did: she smothered it. what he eventually is forced to remember is that it wasn't a chicken, but her baby. (the chicken's feathers are even patterned like a blanket in the flashback!) you can watch a clip of the final version of hawkeye's story here (but be careful, it's a rough one).

the way chris tells his rabid dog story twice in canon, and changes the details once he's around stiles, who knows the truth about werewolves, reminded me a lot of that episode of M*A*S*H. (yes, it COULD be that they're two different stories, but they're so similar! work with me here.) he doesn't bat an eyelash when victoria says gerard shot the dog, yet later insists he but a pullet through his friend's head (after which his friend was still somehow able to crawl towards him...?). it also, of course, changes from a dog to a werewolf. the way he tells one version of the story in each "chapter" of the fic, each time getting a little closer to the truth, was absolutely 100000% inspired by M*A*S*H.

"Riley, stop! I don't want to hurt you—please don't make me hurt you—"

"So you shot him?" Derek asks quietly.

Chris's hands tremble around the shotgun. What if Riley bites him? What if he gets turned too? He has to defend himself, doesn't he? Riley's coming at him again, he has only a second to decide—

"I..." Something dark and terrible shakes loose in Argent's memory. His mouth drops open in horror and his vision blurs. "I didn't!" he cries, eyes wide. "Oh, God—" He drags in a shuddering gasp, covering his mouth with both hands, the truth a vice clenched around his chest. "Oh my God—I didn't shoot him!"

and this realization was definitely influenced by that clip up there. ^ (the idea to rip off M*A*S*H was the only reason this thing got written at all; it was too good a plot twist not to put into real words.)

the WAY chris tells the final version of the story, in part iv, was inspired by 2.10 Fury. sadly i don't have a clip or any gifs handy (i looked...), but the way matt weaves in and out of his story about drowning—the way he begins speaking in present tense, the way he repeats coach lahey's dialogue word-for-word as coach lahey says it in the flashback...

"We—we thought there was a cure," Chris tries to explain, but he's crying and it sounds so foolish and naive to him now. He sounds like a child. "He hasn't hurt anyone, I just thought—"

"You thought?" Gerard roars. "He hasn't hurt anyone? Look at yourself! This is—"

"—why we have a code!" Argent chokes. "This is what it's for!"

Gerard waves his gun at the body on the ground. "Look at him! If he'd honored the code, do you think he would have ended up like this?" Gerard grabs Chris by the chin and forces his head to turn. Chris squeezes his eyes shut, but Gerard backhands him across the face with his other hand. "I said—"

"I said look at him!" Argent drags in a sob.

He's not dead.

"Oh, God," Argent whispers. "He's not dead. Even after all that, he's—"

"—still trying to claw his way towards you, do you see that, Christopher?"

...is what inspired the way i chose to tell it.

AAAAND that’s all, i’m pretty sure i got everything, i’ll end this post on that happy note bc i’ve been working on it for like 3 hours now and that was way longer than i intended for it to be.

[survivorarabia]

EPISODE 10 “Cleaning Up The Threats” - Aren

Aren

Kay, well this round is gonna be ze big cleanup round!!! *dresses up as a janitor* today, we're cleaning up... THE THREATS!!! AKA, Ruthie & Alex -- the two biggest contenders to take the title of Sole Survivor in this game (other than your's truly, of course!). So, there are really two things I need to severely think about here -- who I want to go for out of Alex & Ruthie, and -- in proper janitor fashion -- how I can do this in the cleanest way without fucking up my long-term game. So, I've determined that I wanna go for Alex, as he's way stronger in challenges than Ruthie and he therefor scares the piss out of me. And I also wanna make a F4 group consisting of me, Richie, Emmott & Issy, just so that once Alex fucks off and we're at the F7 I have a sweet-ass group to just safely steamroll it to the final few with. I've kinda just promised Richie the world right now. I told him that when we hit F4 -- Issy's ass will be goin' bye-bye. Then, we can thrash Emmott's ass in FIC, and send him home. And we can be the F2 together. It's funny, because Issy thinks I'm lying to Richie when I tell him this, but y'know... I don't think I actually want to go to the end with Issy. I want to go to the end with Emmott or Richie -- some punching-bag that I can literally demolish in the Final-Tribal. 

Issy

Despite my very best last minute scramble efforts, unfortunately Ci'ere went home yesterday, which is super shitty for me because I very much feel that Alex will want me or Emmott out next I'm gonna work my backside off to try and flip the vote on Alex or Ruthie but honestly I'm not convinced there's anything I can do right now If worst comes to worst I'm gonna have to go all out, try and convince Alex that Ruthie is a huge threat that needs to go home as soon as possible, and pray that someone, anyone, wants to take the opportunity to go for a blindside

Ruthie

I'm really wishing I tried harder at Immunity this round.  It's getting down to the end and I haven't won any immunity challenges yet!  I think my social game is super on point but if I even want to THINK about winning I am going to have to work on actually winning comps, haha.   On the bright side, at least I'm still safe this week! 

Issy

Richie asked to be dragged in confessionals so I thought I'd make this confessional to drag him only who is he again? What has he done? Where has he been? There's a person in this cast called Richie? Oops, I didn't notice Anyway, I believe the go at the moment is to blindside Alex, which is great and all except I really didn't want to be working with RUTHIE!! ❤❤❤ and Nicole. Haven't talked to either of them basically at all since merge, and so I'm super nervous about having to put all my trust in Emmott and Aren's abilities to convince them to do this Aren is annoying as always & Emmott has been awol for the past couple days so my top-tier alliance building skills are clearly benefitting me right now, we're extremely solid going into this next vote & I have total confidence everything will go to plan (not) I want Nicole gone next and then Ruthie (should this Alex vote work out) and then at some point I'd love to axe Aren because I'd rather not be sitting at the end with him

Alex

I cannot believe how well last round went, first of all.  I feel....really good now. But this is the part of the game where Survivor gets really interesting. Theoretically, this should be easy.  We have a tight alliance of four in myself, Ruthie, Richie and Lena, all of whom genuinely like and respect each other.  We've voted together every round and as far as I know, most of us want all four of us to make Final 5. We've also got Nicole, who played an Idol for Ruthie at the first merge vote and has stuck with us every round.  That makes five votes, out of eight, so we should be able to do anything we want this vote – and we probably will. But, people other than me are starting to look at the end and say “how do I get there with the best options?” Richie has come to me to talk about how and when to cut Nicole. Ruthie & Lena don't trust Richie and would probably like to cut him before 5 or 4. And I'm just here, floating along, wondering why, despite being Target #1 since before the merge....nobody has done anything about it? I mean, Issy has been out for my blood from the word go. Emmott is a paranoid, flip-floppy motherfuck who's thrown my name out before. And Aren's getting blindsided this round because he just cannot keep my name out of his mouth! Why has nobody done anything about this yet?  It is a mystery to me. I mean, don't get me wrong: I do love my alliance, I really do.  But I look at the game with a strategic eye and just say.....do all of you really think I don't have arguments prepped for you? Cause I do, kids.  And I know I'm an asshole for it, but I've been eyeing the endgame since the merge, if not before.  I've got the opening speeches written: Ruthie did everything I told her to, Richie was wishy-washy and lied to every juror, Lena doesn't exist, and Nicole doesn't talk to anybody.  Aren's a spastic motherfucker, Issy gave up, and Emmott is, well, Emmott. At this point I'm trying to figure out the best endgame, the best final 3, final 4, final 5 for my game, and I really wish I knew if it was a Final 2 or Final 3 for sure, because that would really inform my decision. I don't want Ruthie at the end.  Ruthie kicks my ass. Richie, I can beat, but I don't know if it'd be easy. My idea is a Lena/Nicole Final 3, because I think I win that.  But there's the missing issue, the apocalypse scenario, that one of them wins Immunity and takes the other to a Final 2, and we have to vote for Lena or Nicole to win. And again, I have nothing against them as people!  But I don't think either of their gameplay to this point has been worthy of my jury vote. So as we whittle down our options, I have to look forward.  Aren, Issy and Emmott, probably in that order, are dead meat.  And if it gets down to five with the Family and Nicole........I don't know what I'll do. Will I vote out Nicole, trusting that at 4 at least one other person will have my back? Will I make a move against Richie or Ruthie, in a bid to get myself a more favorable Final Tribal? Or will I be completely blindsided and booted unceremoniously at five, to the joy of the jury? I truly don't know.  But this is where it gets interesting, folks.  Buckle up and see who outwits who, because we're gonna be choosing the winner here very, very soon.

Aren

Wow bitches I'm fucking running this vote, aren't I? Alex thinks I'm his little bitch-boy who's gonna do whatever he wants, BUT, what he doesn't know is that I'm actually blindsiding his ass this round! I've been doing my fair-share of talking, and I've got Emmott, Issy, Ruthie & Nicole and I'm working on Richie now. I've lied to Alex that I'm voting for mah boi Emmott, but hell nah is that happening! Tonight, we're gonna just straight-up see Alex 6 times. And it'll be truly beautiful. MARVELOUS MASTERPIECE BY AREN WILLIAMS, EVERYONE!!! BRINGS A TEAR TO MY EYE!

Ruthie

Whew, it's been a busy few days with Thanksgiving!  Aren thinks that me, Richie and Nicole are going to vote Alex out with him and I'm just thinking "ARE YOU FREAKING CRAZY?" Richie came to me asking what the whole thing was about and I'm pretty sure we just recently talked about it in the Family alliance chat that Aren could be saying this kind of stuff, but Alex apparently worries him a bit, but he wants The Family to be final 4.  I do too but I also want Nicole to be Final 3 with Alex and myself and it's just like uhhhh how do we get out Richie and Lena without ticking them off or Alex off?  ME, NICOLE AND ALEX would be a perfect Final 3, like I can't even.  I don't even really care if I win, face it, I probably WOULDN'T win next to Alex, to be honest.  I just really want to get to the end with him since we became a solid thing either day one or day two, I want to say day one! I think Lena is down with having me, her and Alex as Final 3 though, I definitely wouldn't win next to her though either, I have ZERO INDIVIDUAL IMMUNITY WINS. :( I really need to get with this lajsdfj.  ANYWAY, this is all what's up, it's been a quiet few days and I'm nervous that Aren is going to sway someone to vote Alex with him, UGH.

Issy

Everyone is low key annoying me right now, honestly can we please just nuke the whole game If I have to see another 'awokoksoaoaw' or 'BAHAHAHAHAHA' I'm gonna have to quit

Richie

Wooowooowooooo I got immunity!!!!!! I feel like I've got myself in a nice position where I didn't need it this week but it's nice to have something to add to my bleak on the surface looking resume... Normally when I get immunity it's like my free pass to play messy and hard because no matter what I do I can't get voted out so its the time to make #bigmoves but I won it 1 week too early With issy/emmott as a duo and aren being just THE messiest that trio needs to be trimmed down so they don't gain any traction so it looks like aren is going this week because he just doesn't shut his mouth he's always giving away too much information and stirring up trouble and he's making deals and throwing people under the bus it's just too much to try and keep him here because even tho he trusts me and isn't voting me out I can't trust that whatever I say to him won't be spread around and I try to keep things lowkey although he is great for getting information from we have this "honesty policy" that im trying my hardest to not actually break bc i want that jury vote so he just keeps giving me information and i never actually AGREE with any plans or confirm that im with him im just like https://68.media.tumblr.com/8d192f985c289a55c30423b83859fa0a/tumblr_oh87xllQpA1vzwwmeo1_250.gif and take notes on what he says asdjfhaksdjfhakdfj god thats not any better than lying but im doing my best lmao I dont know you've got Alex who I trust to a certain degree because I feel like we have the most genuine connection but also people in this game perceive him as a threat which #perceptionisreality so that helps because he's always going to be targeted before me so why would I vote out a meat shield I trust???? but also if he gets to end people think he's this great player that's not good... Then issy/emmott I haven't really worked with and after I vote out aren that should be the last straw they shouldn't trust me at all anymore lmao I never explicitly told them I was voting out Alex this week I purposefully ended my conversation with issy saying that I was hesitant to vote for Alex because "I don't trust Ruthie to not make it a tie" and I want to tell them I'm voting out aren so that I can have leverage with them to try and make the move to get out Nicole next week like I want to make but lena found a clue and we all looked for the idol and no one found it so that means someone else must have it so I'm scared to be HONEST with issy because I don't need any idols fucking up the plan this round so I guess I'll have to deal with that in the future Then there's Lena and Ruthie who are in the family alliance and I feel like we're all good with us 4 but ruthies closeness with Nicole scares the shit out of me because like that's a powerful relationship and as the numbers get smaller that scares me.... And Nicole hasn't talked game with me in dayyyyyys and we have history where I've fucked up with her so I went to Alex to try and plant the seed of voting her out next round but i dont know what's going to happen for now I'm just going to enjoy my last moments of immunity and pray things go the way I'm expecting them to and then clean up whatever messes I've made once they resurface