Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

So if you’re a fan of my stuff here, I’ve been moving a lot of my older fic to AO3, and I’ve even re-written and added to some of them! If you feel like checking that out, go for it. I’m under the name Kittenbedtimestories there, the same as my old Wattpad name.

New. (A Regeneration fic)

Pairing: Ten/Rose

Rating: G

Light. Blinding, painful light. Burning through every part of him, he can feel it. In his hands, his face, his body, a burning. He's shrinking, stretching, compressing, every proportion changing, and burning.But he's seen it all, done it all before. He's old, impossibly old. But he's also new, untested, young. He's seen everything and nothing, knows everything and nothing, met a million people and not even one.Suddenly, the light is over, and he stumbles, adjusting quickly to a new body. Difficult to move, to balance. He pulls air into new lungs, his first breath. New eyes search across the room, taking in the familiar unfamiliar place all over again. But something's different this time.

There's a girl, small and blond, in a pink jacket, staring at him with wide hazel eyes. She's frightened, and shocked, and tired...and the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. She's his Rose, and he died for her, he remembers suddenly. He died to save her because...This mind acknowledges the feeling, at least to itself. That's different...He likes it. Anyway...he cares about her. He cares so much about her, and she's alright. Good. Job well done then.

Wait, wait, wait, he was in the middle of something. What was he doing?

He was saying something. They were going to go somewhere. OH! But he ought to introduce himself again, as he's changed, even if he doesn't quite know who "himself" is yet. He could be anyone now. What what he like? All he knows  right now is the Rose, Rose Tyler, is so important, and he ought to introduce himself.What if she doesn't like him anymore? The thought occurs to him suddenly. He's changed. What if she hates him now?

What is that little feeling? In the pit of his stomach? Is he...nervous? That's different. Nervous. Alright.

Say something! Alright.

"Hello. Alright-oh."He feels around his new mouth. It felt awkward, less room."New teeth, that's weird. Anyway, where were we?"

Dogs. No noses. The planet, not the city.

"Oh yes!"

His first grin with this face, and it's for her, all wide and cheeky, teeth and tongue. He hopes she likes it.

"Barcelona!"

‘Scuse me while I try a different pain.

BANG

The sound was familiar. The numbness, and then the sudden shock of pain as he collapsed on the concrete. This form had felt this before, the old wound ripped open with the new one, the broken bones jolting out of place with the fall. The Darkness tried desperately to pull itself back together. Why this wound? Why had this one broken him? He was fading. No, no, no! This can’t be happening! This isn’t fair! This isn’t fair. This isn’t...this isn’t...

Suddenly, Damien gasped. His breath was weak and rattling...but it was his. He knew that this wasn’t his body, that he wasn’t truly his old self. He hadn’t been for a long time now, he’d been nothing but darkness for so long, he’d hardly remembered his own name anymore. But now, and he could’ve laughed if he’d had the breath, as he was lying in this puddle of blood, their blood...he remembered. Without the influence of that awful thing, he was himself, he was Damien, and...and...

Oh god.

Celine. His own sister, he’d left her there. And the DA...had he really left them in that godforsaken house? All alone for all of these years? And...

Oh no.

“Will...” he wheezed. A tear rolled down his cheek as it got harder still to breathe. He couldn’t see anymore. “’m sorry...Will, ‘m sorry...”

“Dark?”

No. No, anything but that name. Please, just let him be himself again. If nothing else in this cruel world, let him die as himself, with what little dignity he had left. He didn’t want to be that creature anymore. He groaned weakly.

Footsteps. A thud of someone collapsing down next to him.

“Dark, old man, what happened to you?”

He knew that voice...but it was wrong...it was wrong, but it was him. The tears came faster and he tried to move but grunted in pain.

“W...Will...”

“Speak up, Dark, I can’t hear you with your face on the ground like that.” He was so cheerful. Stupid, stupid man, Damien thought fondly. A hand turned him on his back and he cried out. Will sucked in a breath sharply.

“That’s a humdinger, alright. A hell of a joke.”

A joke. No, Will, no. Damien suddenly remembered what Will had become and sobbed painfully, coughing up blood. He used what little power lingered from...it...to stabilize himself slightly. Just long enough to do what he hadn’t gotten the chance to do the first time.

“Will...’s me...’s me...”

“I can see that, Dark-”

“No. No...not...that...’m...’m back, Will...’m back...”

There was a pause. Then a rattling breath. Then, in a very small voice...

“Damien?”

He laughed, coughing again, and Will tried to help him stop. His hands were shaking.

“’s been...a long time...”

“I...I-it has, h-hasn’t it...”

“’ve got..pink...ha...ha...”

“A tease as usual, I see.” A tear dripped onto his face. “I’ve missed that.”

His breathing was failing again, and the power was fading. “’m so...so sorry...”

“I-it’s...i-it’s alr-right...” A hand closed around his, and he was sad that he couldn’t return the pressure it put there. “It’s qu-quite alright.”

“Tell them...’m sorry...”

“Of course.” Will’s voice was a whisper.

“‘m sorry...” he mumbled again. The blackness of the Void was closing in again, and it was getting harder and harder to hear anything. Will’s hand felt a million miles away. “‘s good...to hear...y’r voice...old friend...”

A rattling breath. He couldn’t tell whose it was anymore.

“Goodbye, William.”

Then there was nothing.

A short story? about Wiford finding out that we killed Dark (in A date with Markiplier) saying that he trusted us and we are the only monster here. Because i like to make me suffer

@markired

Uh...guys?

There’s this black Santa hat in my house that says “bah humbug” on it and I can just imagine someone wrestling that onto dark

Oh my god someone draw that please. XD

Watching some classic fandom blog names come out of the woodworks when the flames crank up again is like watching vampires waking up after hibernating for centuries.

Deceit’s Name.

Okay, so there seems to be some confusion, but I wanted pitch in. Deceit’s name isn’t “Janice”. It’s Janus, after the two-faced Roman god of deception thresholds and decisions (this is an edit, i goofed and got some gods mixed up!).

Hence this pose: 

which is not only a fun allusion to swearing in in court (”I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth”), but is similar to a typical pose in art for Janus the god:

I’m not crazy right? We all saw that teaser in the Minecraft video today, right??? Right??????

I was there.

For the whole year, I was there. I watched every video as it came out, every single day.

I was there.

I was there as the timer counted down to zero. I counted it down outloud in the last five seconds.

I watched the screen turn black.

I watched the chat slow to a stop.

I watched the failure to load the channel.

I watched it disappear from my subscription box.

I was there.

I am here.

Memento Mori.

Old (A Tentoo Drabble)

Pairing: Tentoo/Rose mentions

Rating: G

Old. It's amazing how odd that word sounded to him now.

Before, when he'd thought of old, he'd thought of centuries, of planetary histories and the births and deaths of stars and galaxies. He'd thought of an ancient, nearly extinct race, who could live for many thousands of years, each with thirteen faces. He'd thought of how many faces he had left, and how many centuries, and how alone he would be.Old used to terrify him. Now, though, old was different.

Now, he thought of years, of houses and cars, and pictures from a Polaroid camera. He thought of another race, who lived for less than a century on average, each with only one face. He thought of the fact that now he only had one face, and much less than a century left...and someone to spend that time with. Old doesn't scare him as much anymore. The Doctor touched his face. He touched the chin that was covered in morning stubble after not being shaved in three days. He touched the corners of brown eyes he'd grown so used to seeing, suddenly, it seemed, covered in small wrinkles. He touched brown, spikey hair that was just beginning to grey.And he marveled at it.

Fifty years ago, this hadn't even been a possibility for him. Thirty-five years ago, it'd been an aching, impossible fantasy. Thirty years ago, it'd become a terrifying and strange new reality. Now, he looked at himself in fond awe once again.He was getting old. He, the Doctor, Last of the Time Lords, 900 year old alien, was finally getting old. And he was happy about it.

Someone knocked on the open bathroom door. He looked over to see a brown haired woman leaning against its frame, arms crossed over a blue pajama top. She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Morning. Why're you starin' at yourself?"

He smiled and raised an eyebrow right back.

"Morning. I'm just appreciating how handsome I am."

"No you're not," she laughed, "You were touching your wrinkly eyes. You're thinkin' about how old you're getting."

He scowled playfully. "I am not!"

"Are too!" she grinned, walking over and hugging him. He sighed, looking back at the mirror and putting an arm around her. "Are to," he conceded.

The woman looked up at him thoughtfully."It still amazes you, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes. I think it always will."

They stood there for a minute, looking in the mirror, before she finally patted his shoulder and gestured at his striped pajamas."C'mon, get dressed. You promised we could show Martha and David a new planet today."

He sighed again, smiling into it. "I did, didn't I? Alright." He stepped back from her and walked to the wardrobe in the adjacent bedroom, pulling out a familiar blue set of garments. "Old suit good enough for it, Deej?"

"Always, Dad," she said fondly, and with a last chuckle left the room to find her kids and make sure they were ready.

Another woman appeared at the door and smiled. This one was blonde, with little wrinkles around her eyes, too (that he of course never mentioned).

"Hello."

"Hello."

Rose came in and gave him a little kiss.

The Doctor took his wife's hand, like he always had, and always would, and went off to find the rest of his greatest adventure, and show them a new planet. Just like he'd promised.

Just like it should be.