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rpd-rookie · 3 years ago

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The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her. Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent. But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea. This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears. Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds. And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! - or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now. You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it. But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t. You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had. You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you. Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened. Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure! Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards. Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since, with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant. So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces. “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is! “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first. “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…” “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here. “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!” “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!” You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to! “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more. “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence. “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.” You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe? “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me! But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you. “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob. “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.” You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart. “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.” “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth. “Don’t!” You beg, weary. “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.” “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot. “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again. “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?” “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time. “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #i trusted you with my heart #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

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qitwrites · 4 years ago

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traditions

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Itadori Yuuji/Fushiguro Megumi

A/N: I caught up with the manga, and shit’s pretty fucked, so I decided to amend that with fluff.

[AO3 Link]

Fushiguro - according to Kugisaki - is the textbook definition of a homosexual disaster.

No see, here’s the thing- everything was going fine. Great. No problems at all. Fushiguro respects his seniors, tolerates Gojo, and has the biggest soft spot for Inumaki, but he’s never been attracted to any one in his usual circle. So, school and sorcery and life in general was simple. No distractions, no crushes as such, no complications. All good.

And then Itadori Yuuji barges into his life and upends the fuck out of it by eating a special grade cursed object to save him. Then he joins Jujutsu Tech, and now they work and train and study and live alongside one another.

The thing is, Itadori is cute as fuck. 10/10 would tap that, any day of any week.

It’s not that Fushiguro has a type or anything, but Itadori just ticks all his boxes. When Todo had bullheadedly asked him what kind of person he likes, he’d said anyone with a strong moral compass that doesn’t waver in their resolve.

That’s Itadori in a nutshell.

Also, doesn’t hurt that he’s like, stupidly hot either. His raw physical prowess is reflected on his body in the form of shapely muscles, hard abs, and wide forearms that look like they could pick Fushiguro up and just throw him like a javelin. They actually can- Itadori had to do it for a mission this one time. Fushiguro enjoyed it immensely, and he will take this information with him to his grave.

So, not only is Itadori attractive and strong and of good character, but he’s also hella friendly. Fushiguro knows he’s not the easiest person to befriend- it takes a while for him to warm up to people, to share things about himself, to talk about the shitshow that is his family, but Itadori does not seem to give a single, flying fuck. He walks into Fushiguro’s life with the strength and ease of someone that just believes they belong. And Fushiguro lets him, because he is, as Kugisaki very accurately put it, a complete and utter homosexual disaster.

But it’s fine. Crushes happen all the time, and Fushiguro knows it’s hopeless and that’s ok. He knows Itadori likes him and cherishes their friendship, and that is enough. It will be. He’ll move on, and they’ll laugh about it in a few years (if they survive) and it’ll be great. In the meantime, he’s going to hole up in his room and read non-fiction books and stay away from pink hair and large toothy smiles.

Of course, the first person to fuck up his plans is Itadori.

It’s Saturday night, and dinner had been a simple meal of rice, miso soup and some sides made by Itadori. He’s a really good cook, and the home food is such a welcome change from the bento boxes Fushiguro normally picks up from the convenience store. Sometimes, Itadori will drag Fushiguro into the kitchen to teach him a thing or two, and Fushiguro learns, and pines, and smacks Itadori when he says something especially idiotic. It’s routine. It’s nice.

Dinner was an hour ago, and now he’s just curled up in bed with his book. It’s shaping up to be a typical weekend, which is nice considering the number of missions they picked up last week. His bones are aching a little, his feet are slightly sore, and he knows he’s going to sleep like the dead tonight.

He hears the knock even though it’s a bit soft. Fushiguro sits up and cocks his head. Was he imagining it?

And then there’s another knock, more confident. Thud thud thud.

Fushiguro climbs out of bed, setting his book aside carefully. He stretches his hands over his head and walks over to the door. ‘Coming.’

He swings it open, and he sees pink hair and his heart just sort of beats out of his chest.

‘Hiya.’ Itadori’s smile is wide, trusting, and full of gusto. He holds a packet of chips in one hand and a laptop in the other.

‘What’s up?’

‘Are you busy?’

He should say he is. If he says he’s busy, then he doesn’t have to let Itadori in and he can continue with Operation: get over Itadori Yuuji. It’s the most logical move.

‘No, why do you ask?’ Well, apparently his brain has detached from his mouth.

‘Well, I overheard you telling Kugisaki that you’ve never seen the Saw movies and I realized something. Something terrible.’

Fushiguro tenses. ‘And what’s that?’

‘I can’t be best friends with someone that’s never seen Saw.’ Itadori pouts cutely, and Fushiguro is this close to just walking off the face of the Earth. He leans into the door frame, needing the additional support.

‘And I don’t want anyone else to be my best friend. So, the only solution is to make you watch Saw! With me! Like, right now.’

Fushiguro feels so much all at once- he wants to pull Itadori into a hug, he wants to jump off his balcony, he wants to slam the door shut and just cry, and he wants to watch stupid movies with this stupid man.

‘If you get crumbs on my bed, I’m going to kick you in the stomach.’

Itadori beams, and Fushiguro is a lost cause.

There’s a bit of adjusting (Fushiguro, your pillows are too hard, let me go grab mine) and a bit of remodelling (What do you mean we can’t make a blanket fort, that’s literally half the movie experience) and after relenting to a weird half-assed tent structure, the two of them huddle on the bed, backs against the wall, laptop placed on a chair by their feet with a bag of chips between them.

Saw is a terrible movie.

There’s gore and screaming and a creepy dude running around and it’s honestly just horrendous. The main character calls himself Jigsaw, and Fushiguro is tempted to flip the laptop after the hundredth blood spill. He looks over at Itadori who’s completely engrossed, eyes reflecting the colours and flashes of light on the screen. It’s cute, the concentration he’s pouring into it. His hand is stuck in the bag of chips and Fushiguro smacks it away to grab a few of his own.

Fushiguro does his best to watch and gets into it at least a little. It’s bad, but it’s not the worst way to spend a weekend night. He admits that a huge reason why the experience is kinda fun is that he’s doing something with Itadori that isn't life-threatening, which is a refreshing change.

The end credits start rolling and Itadori stretches his arms, fingers pushing through the droopy tent roof.

‘What did you think?’

‘I’ve seen worse.’

Itadori laughs. ‘I know what you mean. It grows on you though.’

‘There’s more?’

Itadori looks at him, blinks, cocks his head. ‘You didn’t know?’

Fushiguro shrugs. ‘I’ve never been a movie buff, so I have no information on this.’

‘Fushiguro.’

‘What?’

‘There’s 9 movies.’

Fushiguro’s mouth drops. ‘What?’

‘Yup, there’s nine in total, and the tenth one is in the making.’

‘Holy shit, that’s a lot of movies in one franchise.’

‘Yup. And we’re watching all of them.’

Fushiguro’s eyes widen. ‘What? No way. Nope. Not a chance. I can’t handle more of this, it was barely tolerable.’

‘It doesn’t matter! It’s the principle of the thing- you’ve started the series so you might as well see it through.’

‘9 movies? How can they possibly have enough content for that?’

‘It’s what they do. I promise it gets better and worse.’

Fushiguro sighs. ‘I’m not getting out of this, am I?’

Itadori pushes into his shoulder playfully. ‘Nope. I’m getting more snacks next time, let’s do two movies.’

Fushiguro sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

He’s really struggling to pretend like he’s upset with this development. He’s not upset. He’s honestly anything but.

---

Itadori comes back next Saturday with some blankets and a pillow tucked under one arm and a laptop in the other. He has a grocery bag with chips and sour patch kids hanging between his teeth and he still manages to smile. Fushiguro is so done.

‘Are you a dog?’ he grumbles, plucking the bag out of his face and setting it by the bed. Itadori gets to work immediately, setting up the pillows and his sad excuse for a blanket fort while Fushiguro brings a bowl for the chips and candy. Once they’ve settled in, Itadori starts the second movie and Fushiguro resigns himself to his fate.

It’s really not that bad.

The movie is whatever, Fushiguro tunes in and out, alternating between watching the screen and sneaking looks at Itadori. He’s as engrossed as ever, and the tip of his tongue is sticking out in concentration and it’s so cute it makes Fushiguro want to curl up in his lap and squish him.

He’s crushing hard. Like, really hard. It’s about the gayest thing he’s ever experienced.

The movie pushes on, and they start to get more comfortable. Itadori isn’t a talker, which is surprising and nice, but when the movie lulls, he does make a joke or two. They sink lower into the bed, and by the end of the movie, they’re firmly pressed into each other from shoulder to thigh, with the bowl of chips on Fushiguro’s lap and the candy in Itadori’s.

Itadori is really warm. Could be his natural body heat, could be the king of curses residing within him, could be Fushiguro’s imagination- who’s to say at this point?

When the credits roll, Itadori stretches again like a cat in the sun, groaning his satisfaction. Fushiguro rubs his temples and wills away his blush.

‘What did you think?’

‘Not terrible, but honestly, what the fuck?’

‘That pretty much sums up the franchise.’

Itadori loads up the next movie while Fushiguro stays in position, comfortable. When he’s done, he leans back and makes himself comfortable against Fushiguro’s side, head leaning against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against bone. He looks smooshed, and it’s ridiculous.

If he gave a single shit about the movie, he’d ask him to move because he’s so far gone now there’s no way he’d pay attention at all.

Fushiguro doesn’t say a word, just sends up a silent prayer that Itadori remains there, pushed into him and all up in his space, for the rest of the evening.

That’s exactly what he does.

---

Fushiguro’s feet are burning.

The soles are achy all over, tender and jolty. Any time he walks, he suppresses a hiss of pain. When he’d taken a look, the entire sole was an angry red, and he’s just so annoyed.

The week had been tough- tons of running around and multiple search and rescue missions and this one tenacious curse that he and Itadori had to chase for several miles before finally exorcising it. By the end of it all, his feet were burning like a low fire in the pits of hell.

Itadori is fine, as always. It’s probably an incredible combination of his own inherent athleticism and lord dipshit within him, but Itadori heals at an accelerated pace, and like, he came back from the dead. Sore feet would be nothing to this guy.

When Itadori knocks on the door as always, an hour after Saturday night dinner, Fushiguro just calls out, ‘Come in.’ He really doesn’t want to walk to the door, so he’d left it open intentionally.

Itadori struggles to open the door on his own, arms filled with so much stuff it’s overflowing everywhere, and that horribly lovely smile is still stretched across his face and Fushiguro is just so smitten it’s ridiculous.

Itadori throws a few pillows in his direction, places a frankly ridiculous amount of snacks at the foot of the bed, and starts building his fort. Fushiguro is yet to help him with this, to actually put in any effort and make it with him rather than just watch him with a bemused smirk, but part of him knows that if he joins in, he’s admitting to something. He’s admitting that he’s invested. That he likes this as much as Itadori, probably so much more. That he likes Itadori so much, it’s all-consuming.

Itadori gives him the laptop while he makes some finishing touches on the fort, and he’s gotten better over the last few weeks. The tent is less saggy, with more room to move around and its range is expanding. It no longer covers just the bed, it extends to his desk and is inching towards his closet. Itadori is taking over his room, his heart, his brain, his life. He keeps taking and taking and taking, and Fushiguro just gives him more, happily, heartbreakingly, with all the love and nonchalance and patience he can muster.

He’s so whipped he’s giving Kugisaki a headache. She’s told him as much, repeatedly.

He’s got the final Saw movie prepped and ready to go, positioning the laptop on the chair as usual. Itadori grabs the bowls and decants their snacks before sitting next to Fushiguro, his head automatically resting on the man’s shoulders. Fushiguro rests his head on Itadori’s soft pink hair, breathing in the scent of the shampoo Itadori always steals from Kugisaki, and muffles a laugh. It’s so silly.

They’re about mid-way through the movie (by movie 9 there’s no milking the plot, it’s them just beating a dead horse ruthlessly) when Fushiguro shifts his legs and his feet bump into the chair, and he bites out a yelp of pain. Itadori sits up immediately, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

‘You ok?’

Fushiguro waves him down, wincing. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine, don’t worry about it.’

‘Did you stub your toe? That’s one of the worst feelings ever. And I’ve had my heart ripped out of my chest. And lost an arm. And I’ve been stabbed repeatedly. Amongst other things.’

‘I didn’t stub my toe. And also, what the fuck, are you ok?’

‘I’m fine,’ Itadori laughs easily. ‘Seriously, what’s wrong?’

‘My feet hurt,’ Fushiguro admits with a defeated sigh. ‘We’ve been moving about a lot, and after that pineapple fucker two days ago, my feet have just gotten really sore. I soaked them in hot water a few hours ago, I think I should be fine by Monday.’

Itadori eyes him suspiciously.

‘I’m not lying dumbass. I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. Let’s just get this horrible movie over with.’

Itadori hums, turning back to the screen. A minute later, he looks over at Fushiguro.

‘Well, I’m going to apologize for this in advance.’

‘Apologize for wh- HEY!’

Itadori, with his stupidly inhumane strength, yanks Fushiguro’s legs off the edge of the bed and right into his lap. Fushiguro is now laying down with his head resting against the headboard, and he’s about to kick out when Itadori just digs his thumbs into the arch of his feet and Fushiguro narrowly stops himself from moaning obscenely.

He has died and ascended. His soul is no longer in this realm of existence. It has found peace. The meaning of life. Attained nirvana. He can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s seriously that good.

Because Itadori is strong. He’s really strong, so his movements are sure and deep. His thumbs are pushing against the arch, into the heel of his foot, pushing into that junction where his toes meld into the sole, and it’s so damn good. Fushiguro squirms.

‘How are you- ah shit, right there -how are you so good at this?’

Itadori throws him an easy smile. ‘Used to massage grandpa’s feet all the time. Became an expert over time, especially because I had a lot of his nurses guiding me as well. Is it ok?’

Fushiguro tries to throw him a deadpan look but then Itadori’s thumbs just push into a particularly sore spot and Fushiguro’s eyes roll back into his skull. When he’s able to pull himself together, he looks at the pink-haired man, feeling breathless.

‘It feels great. If you tell a single soul, I will drop kick you.’

Itadori’s laugh is loud and boisterous, and it fills the room completely, saturates it with this feeling of ease and honesty.

‘This stays here, no worries. Like a Las Vegas thing.’

Fushiguro smiles at the stupid reference.

After a few minutes pass by, Fushiguro reluctantly starts pulling his feet away. ‘You’ve done more than enough,’ he starts to say. Itadori wraps his fingers around his ankles, holding him in place.

‘I can honestly do this for hours, it’s fine. You can see the screen, right?’ Fushiguro nods immediately. ‘So, let’s just keep watching. I’ll stop if I’m tired, ok?’

Fushiguro relents without a fight because it’s the most relief he’d gotten in ages, and Itadori is touching him and he’s weak in every possible way and he lets himself be. Just this once.

They finish the movie (thank goodness it’s over) and Itadori continues to massage his feet as they discuss what the 10th movie could possibly be like. They discuss theories and plot holes, and Itadori doesn’t let go, his hands inching up and massaging his calves as well, and fuck if Fushiguro’s going to stop him because it feels good. He’s gay and Itadori is hot and his fingers are actual magic- like, they put sorcery to shame.

When it’s well past midnight and Itadori yawns a few times, Fushiguro finally sits up, pulling his feet out of Itadori’s grasp. The pink-haired man lets his hands linger for as long as possible, and Fushiguro decides he’s just imagining it. Surely.

‘I kinda, I mean, I want to repay you for that. You massaged me for hours, you know.’

Itadori pretends to think for a second before breaking into a bright, 100-megawatt smile.

‘Well then, let’s watch more movies! Let’s just make this movie night! We can watch stuff you look up as well, we can watch anything.’

Fushiguro stares at him, stunned. He hadn’t been expecting that and truth be told, he was really sad the Saw franchise was over because he assumed that would be the end of this, and he was too shy to ask what Itadori was so easily asking him. To see Itadori so excited at the prospect of an actual movie night, with no end in sight, made his heart leap and throb and squeeze. It was incredible.

‘Deal.’ He keeps his voice level and his face neutral, but he can’t hide his eyes and Itadori reads him in a second and his smile softens. He knows him so well now, like the back of his hand.

Itadori bids him a soft goodnight, collecting his stuff and shuffling back to his room slowly. Fushiguro falls asleep quickly, and it's deep and dreamless.

He wakes up to painless feet. It’s a miracle in every single way.

---

When Itadori gently pulls his feet into his lap the next weekend, Fushiguro doesn’t bother protesting it. He just gives him a slightly exasperated sigh, a soft smile and hits play.

They’ve decided to pick up the How to train your dragon franchise this time, as a welcome change of pace.

‘What’s it about?’

‘Well, it’s honestly all in the title. It’s about dragons and Vikings and it’s funny and it has great music!’ Itadori lights up while talking about it, and his energy is so damn contagious. Fushiguro feels himself getting hyped. ‘I think you’ll like it. Especially since you have those cool Shikigamis, you might relate to this more!’

Fushiguro hums, and they watch. Fushiguro routinely pushes pieces of chips and sour candy into Itadori’s mouth, and Itadori’s fingers become well-acquainted with the planes and bumps and grooves of his feet, and the shape of his calves.

Fushiguro gets really into the movie.

Not only is the animation top-notch, but the voice actors are great, the storyline is gripping, and Toothless is so childish and sweet and endearing, his heart aches with love. He barely pays attention to Itadori this time. He seems just as invested, even if it’s the hundredth time he’s rewatching it.

To Fushiguro’s surprise, he chokes up at the end, after the big battle. The whole scene feels strangely familiar in some ways, and he tries desperately to hide his growing discomfort. He peaks over at Itadori and his eyes widen.

Itadori is swallowing hard, his eyes shining and glistening with unshed tears. His grip on Fushiguro is tight as hell, but not painful. He’s barely holding on, it seems.

So Fushiguro looks away, and lets himself feel. He doesn’t cry, but it’s damn near the same feeling.

Itadori’s knowing smirk is as annoying as it is stupidly kissable.

‘You seemed to enjoy that!’

‘It was decent. Much better than all the Saw movies combined.’

Itadori barks out a laugh. ‘Decent, he says. I saw you nearly crying through my own tears. And you were glued to the screen. Such a liar.’

Fushiguro relents. ‘Fine, it was really good. I’m hooked, and I cant wait to see the other 2 movies.’

‘You know I’ll be here.’

Fushiguro is helpless against his blush. He barely hides it in the crook of his elbow. Itadori’s fingers are still pressing into his feet and it’s all so much but not enough. His heart still aches.

‘And the next two movies are visual masterpieces. Can’t wait to get into it all!’

Fushiguro nods, and with the promise of next week, he sleeps just a little easier.

---

When Itadori pulls his feet into his lap three weeks in a row, Fushiguro decides it’s time he does more to repay the pink-haired man. It’s definitely not enough to just grace Itadori with his presence and with a weekly movie night.

So, when they come together to watch the third and final How to train your dragon movie, Fushiguro stands in his room, chewing his lower lip anxiously. He feels like he may have gone overboard, and he’s more scared of being found out by Itadori, about his feelings and his hopelessly ginormous crush and just how big of a complete and utter disaster he is than anything else.

Before he can take it down though, Itadori walks in after a quick knock and a shout of Pardon the intrusion but not reaaallllyyyy.

He walks in, snack bag in his mouth, arms holding way too much stuff, and gives Fushiguro a grin before turning to the bed to start his usual set-up routine. That’s when he stops dead on his feet, and Fushiguro at least enjoys the look of complete and utter shock on his face. The snack bag drops to the ground before Fushiguro can catch it with a loud thunk.

So, here’s a fun fact about Fushiguro- he can build insane blanket forts. No, really, you don’t understand, he could be mistaken for an architect because that’s how good he is. And the reason is a bit long and a bit complicated, but it mostly has to do with his sister. When they were left all alone in the world, sharing a small space just between the two of them, they would build blanket forts with all the stuff lying around the house, and within those sheets, they were shielded from the world and all its horrors. They did it for a long time, and it was their tradition. They got better at it over the years, learning what sheets worked best, what make-shift supports held things up at the right height, where to place the pillows.

The minute Fushiguro started to put the fort together, his muscle memory kicked in and took it from there. It brought forth some memories that made him choke up, but he focused on Itadori, and it helped. He adjusted the height to accommodate two growing boys instead of two tiny humans, and before he knew it, the fort had sprawled to encompass his entire room. He borrowed pillows from Inumaki and Panda, who were willing albeit slightly perplexed, and he grabbed Kugisaki’s fairy lights to really spruce things up. The weather had gotten colder, so he had also laid out his thick duvet for them to slip under, and the icing on the cake was the pizza he had ordered. Itadori always bought the snacks, so he wanted to pull his own weight. Also, they were active jujutsu sorcerers- they may have eaten dinner an hour ago, but they were always hungry. It was endless.

Itadori remains rooted in place, and Fushiguro starts to get nervous. A bit anxious. A bit scared. What if it is too much? Had he overstepped in some way? Or what if Itadori looked forward to building the fort and Fushiguro had taken that away from him?

Itadori slowly looks at him, eyes piercing and unreadable and bright.

And then he smiles. The world rights itself a little.

And he smiles big, huge, all-encompassing. Its lips stretched over white teeth and his eyes are crinkling in that really lovely way and the dimples are dotting his cheeks and its utter magic.

‘Fushi,’ Itadori gushes, almost breathless. ‘This is insane. How the hell did you do this?’

Fushiguro bites his lip. ‘You like it?’

‘Like? Fushi, dude, my man, my guy, like doesn’t begin to cover it! I don’t have better words cause I’m kind of an idiot, but it’s. Like. A+. 11/10. I’m so impressed right now.’

And now Fushiguro is smiling with him, stomach flopping around endlessly, and he’s young and in love and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

‘I also got pizza,’ Fushiguro gestures to the table behind him, picking the snack bag off the floor and placing it by the bed. ‘I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got the same thing you ordered when I was sick.’

Itadori happily bounds over to the box and leans in for a sniff.

‘I love this stuff, it’s yum. And it’s still steaming, all fresh and hot.’ Itadori gives him a big thumbs-up. ‘This is so bomb Fushi, thank you so much!’

Fushiguro almost says No thank you, you’ve been doing so much for our movie nights and I wanted to show you how grateful I am for you and for all of this and I love you so please take my heart and just keep it, I really don’t need it, you know?

What he says instead is, ‘Not a problem. Shall we set up?’

And so, 10 minutes later finds them curled up in their usual spots, except this time they’re under the covers. Fushiguro places all the food between them, and Itadori alternates between massaging his feet (which he cleans meticulously before their movie nights because he doesn’t want Itadori to eat with dirty feet hands) and taking bites of pizza and smiling and laughing and choking up at the movie.

The trilogy ends and Fushiguro can honestly see why Itadori has watched this countless times. It’s just that good.

If Itadori hears him sniffle, he doesn’t say a word. Just squeezes his calf and runs his fingers from his knees to his ankles and Fushiguro realizes, in that moment, that a part of him will always belong to this man.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. They’ve now finished the Saw franchise, the HTTYD trilogy, the Batman trilogy, and the entire Annabelle series. If Fushiguro didn’t hate dolls before, well, now the thought of them sends shivers up his spine. And he fights curses. For a living.

Life is weird.

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Sometimes it’s Sunday night instead, or Friday. Sometimes it’s earlier in the day, in the afternoon maybe. Sometimes, it’s really late at night, so late that by the time they’re done, it’s already 3am and the world is silent. The world doesn’t exist beyond the walls of Fushiguro’s room, and he’s ok with that.

On those nights, Itadori stays over.

They curl up on his bed together, not quite touching but not quite not touching. It’s a single bed and they’re not small by any means. The touching is inevitable. Fushiguro wonders if any part of it is voluntary.

He learns that Itadori’s toes are always warm, unlike Fushiguro’s. He’s a surprisingly calm sleeper. His sleep-heavy voice is deep, and his sleep-heavy smile is soft.

They fall asleep facing away from one another, they wake up spooning or being spooned. They don’t say a word. And they don’t stop.

The night that they finish the latest Annabelle movie, Itadori looks insanely freaked out and Fushiguro doesn’t blame him. That shit’s creepy as hell.

The problem is that it’s only 00:14. Too early for them to call for a sleepover unprompted.

Itadori’s got Fushiguro’s legs in his lap, and he’s pursing his lips as if deep in thought. Fushiguro thinks fuck it.

‘Do you want to stay over?’

The relief flows off Itadori in waves. ‘You’re an actual lifesaver, you know that right?’

Fushiguro smirks, and they throw snarky comments back and forth between them as they get ready for bed. Itadori brings his toothbrush and they clean up side by side, fighting for the mirror. They take the fort down methodically, like a well-oiled machine, and they curl up under the duvet, touching but not quite touching, facing away from one another.

15 minutes later, Fushiguro feels Itadori curled around him, legs tangled and arm carefully slipped over his middle. He feels him shake, and he can taste the hesitation and he knows Itadori will move away soon because they both know they’re both awake.

He moves his hand lower and places it over Itadori’s. He squeezes it once, and moves it away, and evens out his breathing. He feels himself drifting off, and the last thing he feels is Itadori’s arm curling around him just a little tighter, holding him just a little closer. The air tastes less hesitant, more hopeful.

It’s wonderfully frightening.

---

They don’t miss a single movie night for months. Until one day, they do.

The thing about Sukuna is that he’s the King of Curses, Lord Asshat extraordinaire, and an overall terrible being. Not only does he reside in Itadori rent-free, he also chooses when to heal him and when to watch from the sidelines as blood gushes out of wounds that are near-fatal. Itadori’s pain tolerance is impossibly high, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel pain.

Itadori feels everything. He feels so much, so willingly, so wholeheartedly. He’s a feeler.

And so, when one of their missions go haywire (as always), Itadori risks his life for his classmates (as always), and is left on the verge of death (as always). The only difference being he doesn’t improve. At least not at that inhumane pace that he always does.

He’s not dead, but he’s not in the world of the living either. He’s drifting somewhere in between, and Fushiguro feels like he’s drowning. He can’t get enough air; he can’t see beyond the murky waters that are darker than ink.

Fushiguro is in the in-house hospital on campus and he rarely, if ever, leaves Itadori’s side. The incident took place on a Tuesday and it is now Saturday. Itadori’s vitals are stable, his heart is in his chest, beating, and his blood is circulating and oxygenating him.

He does not wake up, he does not speak, and he does not smile.

Something in Fushiguro’s chest cracks.

People come by to visit all the time. Nobara brings snacks and chats with Itadori like he’s ok, like he’ll respond. Only Fushiguro hears the tremor in her voice. Maki holds back from smacking someone in a coma, vowing to get him good when he’s awake for doing something so monumentally dumb. Gojo flits in and out as often as he can, and he always squeezes Fushiguro’s shoulder with a tightness that eases his chest just a little before leaving again.

After dinner on Saturday, Fushiguro decides to do something.

He lets himself into Itadori’s room- messy but not sloppy, and simple. He finds his laptop on his desk and charges it for a bit before taking it back with him. He doesn’t set up a blanket fort, simple loads up a Christopher Nolan movie that they’d decided on last week and lets it play.

He holds Itadori’s hand the entire time. It doesn’t squeeze back.

The crack in his chest widens.

---

He’s not there when Itadori wakes up.

Gojo had pushed him out of the room to go take a shower and grab a proper meal and maybe even take a nap, and Fushiguro had relented to two of the three- showering and eating. With a belly full of terrible convenience store food that could never hope to hold a candle to Itadori’s meals, Fushiguro slowly makes his way back to the infirmary when he hears voices. One voice, in particular, stops him in his tracks.

‘How are you feeling?’

‘My mouth tastes like ass.’

It’s one of the first things Itadori has said in a week and a half, and something between a laugh and a sob gets stuck in Fushiguro’s chest. He moves to yank the door open and throw himself at Itadori when he hears-

‘Where’s Fushi?’

‘Oh, he went to take a shower, clean up a little, all that.’

‘Ah. I see.’

Fuck, he sounds disappointed.

‘Don’t look so upset.’ Gojo teases. ‘He hasn’t left your side since you got hurt, you know?’

‘Really?’

Gojo hums. ‘He’s here all day. He tried working for a day or two, but his head wasn’t in it, so we forced him to sit out for a bit. He’s just been keeping you company here, reading, fretting, pining.’

Fushiguro wants to punch Gojo.

Itadori barks out a laugh. It sounds loud and forced and not very happy.

‘Don’t tease me about that sensei. That’s cruel, even for you.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You know what I’m talking about.’

‘I want to be sure. I’m not a mind-reader you know. So tell me,’ Gojo urges, ‘what are you talking about?’

Itadori sighs. It sounds exhausted more than pained. ‘I’ve liked him since the day we fought the curse and saved my senpais. It’s cruel for you to tease me about a one-sided crush.’

Fushiguro is suddenly numb, hot and cold everywhere, and his head is spinning, an echo of ‘I’ve liked him I’ve liked him’ just bouncing around his brain endlessly. He has to force himself to concentrate or risk missing out more of the conversation.

‘I mean, why do you think it’s one-sided?’

‘Are you kidding me? He’s so out of my league, I can’t even think about it. He’s so. Just. Everything good in this world. And he likes dogs sensei, what more could I want in a person?’

Fushiguro’s vision is just swimming and he wants to smother Itadori in a hug and protect him forever. His feet are taking longer to respond to his brain though.

‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Gojo sings, laughing. ‘My advice would be to not give up. You’d be good for each other, you know? Also, he’s really not all that perfect. Trust me, I’ve known him since he was a child. This one time, during the spring festival, he-‘

‘Itadori, you’re awake?’

Evidently, his self-preservation instincts had bypassed his brain and forced his legs to move at near inhumane speed. God bless instincts.

Itadori is sitting up, and he looks a bit frail but the color in his cheeks is steadily returning. His eyes widen in surprise before his mouth twists up in a grin so wide Fushiguro is worried he’ll break his face. His eyes are molten, watery, and brighter than the sun.

‘Hi Fushi.’

For once, Fushiguro doesn’t give a two shit flying fuck that Gojo is in the room and will hence tease him for the rest of his life, he just walks over to the bed and gathers Itadori into a hug and holds him there, pressing his warmth into Itadori. There’s the beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, and the smile on his lips pressed into Fushiguro’s shoulder.

The world rights itself on its axis, just a little more.

‘Idiot.’

Itadori’s muffled laugh makes him grin, and he pulls away. He rearranges his face in a scowl.

‘I told you before if you die on me-‘

‘-you’ll kill me yourself. I know, I know. I’m here Fushi, you don’t have to become a murderer. It’s a good day.’

Fushiguro lets his face morph back into a grin before looking over at Gojo. His teacher’s smirk tells him everything- how he knew where Fushiguro was, how he’s seen right through Fushiguro, how he’s going to tease him till the day either of them die. And Fushiguro wants to be annoyed and pissed off but he can’t bring himself to care, not right now.

Itadori’s heart is beating in his chest, and he smiles at Fushiguro, and his cheeks are tinting pink.

Fushiguro’s heart is full.

---

‘Sorry I missed movie night.’

Itadori’s apology is so stupid Fushiguro nearly gwaffs, but that’s undignified as fuck so he settles for a cough and a withering stare.

‘I mean, it’s not like you were in a coma or anything.’

‘You know what I mean! But anyway, I’m here now, so let’s pick up where we left off.’

‘No, we’ll have to move on to the next movie. We watched that one last week.’

‘Huh?’

Fushiguro looks at him, prays he isn’t seven shades of red. ‘Well, I thought maybe if we had a movie night at the infirmary, you’d feel better. Where you were. Especially if you were dealing with lord fuckwad. You know?’

Itadori stares at him in awe and chuckles softly. ‘You’re something else, you know? Just when I think I’ve got you all figured out.’

Gojo’s word reverberate around his skull and Fushiguro just clears his throat. ‘Yeah, well, I’m all about surprising people. Woohoo.’

Itadori bursts out laughing, and they go back to setting up the fort, the pizza, the snacks, the lights, the laptop. It’s easy and familiar and nice. They settle into the mattress, but Fushiguro doesn’t let Itadori take his feet this time, opting to press into his side instead. Itadori barely puts up a fight.

They’re roughly 8 minutes into Interstellar when Itadori asks, ‘How did you set up the movie in the infirmary?’

Fushiguro hums, ‘I grabbed your laptop and put it on a chair to your left. I sat on the right. I sat by your bed and I…’

‘And you?’

Fushiguro should be nervous but he’s not. He’s surprised by how not nervous he is.

‘And I did this.’ He laces their hands together, eyes trained on Itadori's.

It’s like looking at a bowl of liquid amber. His eyes are light brown, bordering on gold, and they’re mesmerizing when you’re this close. He doesn’t look away from Fushiguro, his breath doesn’t stutter, he doesn’t jerk away. He squeezes Fushiguro’s hand with his right one and slowly brings up the left. He rests it on Fushiguro’s jaw, soft skin meeting calloused fingers and there’s a heat building under Fushiguro’s skin that makes him feel that same hot and cold sensation everywhere.

‘I’m going to kiss you.’

Itadori’s voice is deeper than Fushiguro’s ever heard it, low and spicy and sure. His hands are gentle and confident.

Fushiguro doesn’t nod or say Yes or blush.

He just brings his right arm up, wraps it around Itadori’s left wrist and leans in, bringing them together in what is possibly the softest touch of lips ever, in the history of the universe.

It’s not hesitant, it’s just new. And all-encompassing. And maddeningly good. And soft.

Itadori’s breath hitches and he leans his head, slotting their lips together better and Fushiguro is humming because fucking hell is this good. There’s no tongue, just pressure and nips and small licks and bites. By the end of it, Fushiguro is smiling into Itadori’s smile, and he’s kissing it and nuzzling it and he’s drowning in the best way possible.

Itadori finally pulls away, after several small kisses, and does that beaming smile that makes Fushiguro’s stomach do really terrible things.

‘I can’t believe all this happened because of Saw.’

Fushiguro’s smile shrivels away in a heartbeat and Itadori is laughing and snorting, the bastard.

‘Itadori Yuji.’

More laughter.

‘I swear on all that is good and pure, if you tell people we got together because of Saw, I will dump your ass so hard you won't be able to sit down for weeks.’

Itadori laughs some more and presses his giggles against Fushiguro’s lips and dammit he’s so weak and gay.

Itadori’s hand slips down his jaw and cups the back of his neck and he pulls him close, pressing their foreheads together.

‘We both know that’s not true.’

Damn it. He really does know Fushiguro like the back of his hand.

And so he does the only thing he can think of- he kisses him again. And again. And then some more, just because he can.

The movie remains forgotten, and frankly, they couldn’t care less.

#jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #itafushi #itadori x fushiguro #jjk fic #fluff #so much fluff #and movie nights #pining #this is just fushiguro pining #itadori is a good friend #the goodest #jjk #hi hello i hope you all like this #and i hope everyone's doing ok and staying safe!!#much love to you all

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 years ago

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Hi Steph!!! Hope you're doing fine and well!!I've jumped back into the Johnlock fandom and rewatched it again! I'm looking for fics to do with Sherlock being drugged, a drug addict, crazy, insane or trapped in his mind palace. That's about it, thank you!! Take care!

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, welcome back to the fandom, Lovely!! <3 I hope I can help you out!

For Drug fics, I have these lists here:

Self Harm, Danger Nights, and Drugs

Drugs and Drugging Pt 2

Realistic Drugs/Drug Rehab

As for mind palace fics, I’m going to use this opportunity to post up a list of fics relating to Sherlock’s mind palace, just because I did actually start tagging fics with it, so I wanna actually use it, LOL. Feel free, my lovelies, to add your own fics for this or anything Nonny is looking for! Hope y’all like what I got for y’all!

SHERLOCK’S MIND PALACE

A Perfect Figure by ecb327 (K, 622 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, First Person POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Light Angst) – Sherlock build a spot in his mind palace for John.

Once Upon A Time by ProfessorSquirrell (T, 908 w., 1 Ch. || Family, Snippets of Life, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Implied Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending) – There is a room in Sherlock's mind palace where nothing gets deleted. And it looks like this...

Sherlock's Mind Palace by Valkyrie Of The Dead (K+, 1,091 w., 1 Ch. || Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Deaths, Self Reflection) – Sherlock needs to change his mind-palace once again. He had hoped he wouldn't, he had thought he wouldn't, because they were invincible, weren't they?

Ode to a Well-Worn Chair by hogwartswitch (G, 1,274 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TSo3, John’s Chair, Angst, Love Confessions, Mind Palace) – Takes place the night Sherlock left John's wedding early. Why did he move John's chair and where did he move it?

The Simple Separation Will Not Come Between Us by The Circus (T, 1,278 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, MCD, Violence, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Prose) – The choice is simple. Real, and No John. Or Not Real, and John. For a prompt that says 'John dies and Sherlock loses himself in his Mind Palace’

Upon This Throne by ifonlynotnever (T, 1,773 w., 1 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Angst, Romance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Introspection, Imagery, Pining Sherlock, Drug Use, Passage of Time) – Inside Sherlock's mind is a Palace. Inside the Palace are many rooms. Within the largest room is the Throne. Upon the Throne sits the King.

The Three-Word Tin Collection by TheBookshelfDweller (K, 1,885 w., 1 Ch. || First Person Sherlock POV, Mild Pining, Angst, Romance, Hiatus) – What happens when Sherlock has to store the things he wants to say to John while deconstructing Moriarty's web, but the Mind palace proves an inadequate place to store them?

Duvet (green) by Mazarin221b (G, 2,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-THoB, Mind Palace, Revelations, First Kiss) – Sherlock recalibrates and restructures his mind palace so it looks like 221b. What he chooses to put in John's room is a bit of a surprise, and a revelation.

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

Heart's a Mess by svenjastrange (NR, 2,249 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Sherlock’s Mind Palace) – Sherlock's heart is a mess.

Green Carnation by glenien (T, 2,616 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Meta-Fic, Angst and Fluff, Communication, Post-TAB) – John takes Sherlock home. Part 1 of It’s No Longer Eighteen Ninety-Five

The Trial of Sherlock Holmes by jenna221b (G, 3,015 w. across 3 works || TAB!lock, Metafic / TJLC, Victorian AU / 1895, Christmas, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Oscar Wilde) – Scripts based on speculation that Sherlock will be put on trial in The Abominable Bride to parallel the Oscar Wilde Trials of 1895.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

Nineteen Seconds of Falling by EmmyAngua (T, 3,739 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Falling in Love) – Sherlock spends exactly nineteen seconds zoned out after John asks him to be best man. He retreats to his mind palace in the desperate hope of figuring out what he wants, unfortunately for him his mind palace is full of people who keep trying to give him advice.

Jukebox by standbygo (T, 3,990 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Singing/Music, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Humour, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss) – After the music halls of Sherlock's mind palace get damaged by accident, John learns that Sherlock never forgets a song. Even the ones he'd rather forget. But the random singalong brings some unexpected benefits.

Sink Like a Stone by pennydreadful (T, 4,348 w., 1 Ch. || Angst / Dark, Cuddling/Snuggling) – After defeating Moriarty at the pool, life isn't quite the same around 221B Baker Street...it's more peaceful. And stranger.

Times Two by WhimsicalEthnographies (E, 5,595 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Victorian John, Modern John, Sherlock has a Good Imagination, PWP, Bottomlock, Spitroasting) – “But you’re not that John…”“Of course I am,” John’s lips and mustache brush against Sherlock’s mouth as he talks. “All us Johns are that John, now. That John is in every room in your Palace.” He leans in for another messy kiss, tongue swirling all around the inside of Sherlock’s mouth. “In fact,” he moves to suck on the sensitive skin underneath Sherlock’s ear. “I think I hear him coming right now.”

The Death of Doubt by Gingerhermit (E, 6,584 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Canon, BAMF John, POV Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Drama, Meddling Mycroft) – Mycroft asks for John’s help in rescuing Sherlock from his Serbian captors.

Better Than Fiction by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 6,813 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Masturbation, BJ’s, First Time / Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Anal) – ...he opens his eyes, but instead of seeing John he is staring at his bedroom ceiling, the pale plaster a startling contrast from the scene in his head. It had felt so real. He can only imagine what the feel of John’s lips would be like, his taste. But luckily for him, he thinks with a smirk, he’s always had a brilliant imagination.

The Five Stages of Mourning, Plus One by SunnyRea (T, 10,557 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Pining / Grieving Sherlock, URT, Heavy Angst, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Drug Use, Graphic Death, Depression, Unhappy Ending) – Sherlock did not want this, did not want another stalemate with John in the middle, a gun in Jim's hand. This cannot have happened without a sign. There has to be something he missed anything which said today is the day I kill for real.

Sherlock's Head, John's Heart by Altego (T, 17,252 w., 7 Ch. || Tragedy, Heavy Angst, Heavy Bromance, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Mary is Nice, Friendship) – After Mary dies, John tries to cope, and Sherlock blames himself but tries to make John understand how important John is in his life.

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,689 w., 8 Ch. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Beach Holidays, Confused Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU || Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #sherlock's mind palace #Anonymous #my fic recs #pining sherlock

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snowdice · 5 years ago

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Logan’s 25 Step Plan to Ask a Boy Out (Relabeled; Refiled Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, my self insert again, oops Lia(OC)

Summary:

“No! Logan look,” she said. “He likes you and you like him. You don’t need a list or a plan or schematics for this. Just walk up to him and ask him out before you hesitate so much that he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

How is Logan so good at, but simultaneously so bad at this?

This is a one-shot dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail set a few months after The Things We Never Mentioned.

Notes: Superhero AU (doesn’t matter for this one... again), Logan being dumb but it the sweetest way possible.

This was supposed to come out later this week, but the mini fic I was writing to release today ended up... not being a mini fic. So, I shuffled around my release plans a bit and you get this now!

It was almost 3am and Logan was still in his office. He really should just go home. There was no way he and Lia were going to be able to solve this problem tonight. Lia wasn’t even looking at the problem on the chalkboard anymore, instead she had pressed the chalk against the board longways and was turning it slowly to make a fan shape on the board.

Logan took a drink of his room temperature coffee. “We could try integrating it.”

“No.”

“You’re probably right.” Logan tilted his head back and closed his eyes pretending to be deep in thought, but really he just let his brain drift. “Lia,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask your advice on something not related to math.”

“Fucking please do.”

“It’s about Patton.”

She didn’t even pause. “My advice is, ask him out.”

Logan paused and opened his eyes to look at her. “Er well… Yes.”

She suddenly looked more awake than she had in hours. “No really? Yes! It’s about time!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Your enthusiasm about my romantic interests is absurd… but useful in this specific case.”

She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap like a particularly interested school child during story time. “Please continue.”

“I have decided that I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with Patton, and I am currently researching the best strategy to convince him of my adequacy as a prospective partner.”

“Research?” Lia asked. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t made a list.”

“I am simply inquiring after your advice concerning rather you believe Patton would be more inclined to understand love language in poetry or flowers.”

“Logan you don’t need to prove your ‘adequacy’ or whatever. Just ask him out.”

“Certainly,” Logan said. “Flowers or poetry.”

“Logan you’re not listening,” Lia complained.

“I assure you I am. I’m even taking notes.” He turned the paper around for her to see.

“‘Lia does not seem to have an opinion on flowers or poetry. Seems to suggest a bold approach,’ Logan you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He sat back and flipped back a few pages in the notebook. “I have interviewed many people on the topic but seeing as you have actually met Patton in person, I thought your perspective would be useful despite the certain ridicule that would come from the question.”

“Logan please, please tell me you didn’t make a list.”

Logan didn’t reply. He had. He had made a list. He’d done more than just make a list. He’d created a whole new file designation specifically for Patton and Patton related things. He now had a light blue binder which contained the list as well as the drafts and research notes on matching light blue paper as well as a picture Patton had doodled on a napkin to give to him. What else was he supposed to do?

Over the past couple of months, he’d done research in the form of interviews as well as non-fiction and fiction reading, drafted the list, done more research, and edited the list. It still wasn’t good enough. He was missing something. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure it out. He was hoping Lia would be more helpful.

Clearly, he was mistaken as she just groaned. “Logan…”

“Never mind.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

“I was unaware of the possibility of a time limit on this assignment.”

“That’s not. No. That’s not what I’m saying Logan. Please don’t freak out. This isn’t homework!”

“I’m not freaking out Lia,” he said calmly even though his mind was racing.

“Logan, I know that look,” Lia said, “that’s the Logan’s pretending he’s okay, but he’s actually about to go and break down in a closet look.”

Logan waved her off and gathered up his bag. “Thank you for your input; you have given me a lot to think about.”

“No, please stop thinking!”

“I must go.”

Logan had meant to finish editing his list the night before but had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home from the office. He woke at around 10am with a sore neck. He looked at the list. He should switch task 7 and 8 he decided. He wrote out one more copy of the list with the edit and then stared at the list again. There were 25 list items the last one being to ask Patton on a date. It wasn’t perfect, but… perhaps it was good enough. He bit his lip. Some of the tasks would take more effort, but luckily Logan had already started working on preparations for the third step which was to express interests in things the subject found important. The first two steps were to express a desire to spend time with the subject and demonstrate an ability to notice the subject’s likes and dislikes. With the preparation he had done, he was certain he could get through the first three steps today.

Decided, he jumped to his feet. Patton often came to ‘The Hideout’ at around 11:30am for lunch on these days. If he moved fast, he might be able to catch him before-hand and ask him if he’d like to have lunch with him.

…

He should go take a shower and brush his teeth first.

After cleaning himself up and picking out one of his nicer casual outfits, he headed to the hospital. He wasn’t sure where to go, so he just headed to the admission area for the hospital emergency room. “Hello,” Logan said to the receptionist. “I was wondering if Patton Sanders has left for lunch yet.” The man behind the counter blinked at him. “He’s a surgeon here.”

“I know who he is,” he replied slowly. “I’ll um, go get someone to check.”

Logan nodded and stepped away from the counter. The receptionist walked away and then returned after a moment.

A few minutes later, Patton walked up to the reception desk from the other side looking rather confused. He spoke briefly to the receptionist who gestured to him. Patton turned, lighting up a bit when his eyes fell on him, though he still looked a bit confused. “Logan,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Logan stepped back up to the reception desk. “I was wondering if you would like to have lunch. I know you usually go to ‘The Hideout’ and we end up eating together anyway, but you don’t always, and I wanted to intentionally make plans with you. It doesn’t have to be at ‘The Hideout’ either. Of course, only if you aren’t busy and you want to.”

“I do,” Patton said. “I do want to, uh, but,” he glanced behind himself back into the ER. “We’ve been pretty busy, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take a long enough lunch to go out. I was just going to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.”

“That’s fine,” Logan said. “We can make plans for another day.”

Patton bit his lip. “You can join me in the cafeteria if you want,” he offered. “I’ll um, only have 15 minutes though and the food isn’t great.”

“15 minutes is fine,” Logan replied.

He smiled brightly at that. “Give me five minutes,” he requested.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I’ll just sit over there.” Patton dashed off. It was closer to 10 minutes, but Logan didn’t mind even when the receptionist kept giving him looks he couldn’t understand or when a few nurses stopped by to peer at him curiously from over the counter.

Patton was still wearing the doctor’s coat when he came back to the waiting room area. He smiled when he saw Logan and grabbed his arm to guide him to the elevator. The cafeteria was on the top floor of the hospital. Patton warned him off of getting the spaghetti and he ended up with a grilled cheese sandwich and soup while Patton just purchased a premade cold cut sandwich from one of the refrigerators.

The cafeteria was crowded at this time of day, but Patton directed him to a more secluded part of it. His eyes kept flashing at the clock, but he still smiled at Logan.

“It bought you a brownie,” Logan said pushing it at him. “I’m not sure of its quality compared to the ones at “The Hideout,” but I know it is your favorite dessert so hopefully it suffices.

He took the saran wrapped dessert with an almost startled expression. “Thank you,” he said and then looked back up at Logan. “It’s good to see you. I-I’ve had a stressful morning and was sad I wouldn’t be able to go out for lunch today. Thanks for being willing to eat down here with me.”

“I’m glad I decided to come today then. Thanks, are not necessary. I enjoy talking with you no matter the environment.”

A bit of a blush bloomed on Patton’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “What would you like to talk about then?” he asked.

“How about,” Logan began, “antibody diversity and histocompatibility systems.”

A strange look crossed Patton’s face. “Did... Logan did you look up my research papers?”

“I,” he didn’t know why he felt compelled to blush. “Yes, I did. You don’t have a background in mathematics or physics so I thought I would investigate your interests so we could have something to talk about. They were very well written.”

A pause. “You read my research papers.”

“Yes,” he said. “There was a lot of terminology I had to look up, but I believe I have enough of a working knowledge to hold a conversation.”

“You,” he stopped and looked at Logan with an intense but achingly tender expression that figuratively stole Logan’s breath. It lasted for a long moment and Logan felt trapped by his gaze in the best way possible. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Logan replied breathlessly without even a thought. Patton gave him a dazzling smile and bit his lip, looking away slightly. Logan’s brain restarted once he wasn’t held captive by that strange look in Patton’s eye. Wait, wait, he’d had a plan! He’d just ruined the plan!

“So then,” Patton said somewhat bashful, “what would you want to do on the date.”

Logan scrambled to mentally scratch off 22 list items until he found the ideas he’d come up with for once he’d procured a date. It wasn’t an edited list yet, but at least it was something. He was glad he planned so far in advance. “Midtown park perhaps,” Logan suggested. “There is a small place that serves pasta and an ice cream shop nearby. We could have dinner and then walk through the park. You’ve mentioned that you enjoy ravioli and the restaurant I’m suggesting is well known for the dish according to three articles in two different newspapers in the last 18 months.”

Patton titled his head with a small smile. “You’ve put some thought into this haven’t you?” he asked.

“I…” Logan said, “tend to be a planner.”

Patton reached over to place his hand on Logan’s. “I’m glad,” he said. Logan turned his hand over so their fingers could lace together. They only had 7 minutes to eat once they remembered their food and it was quite bland, but Logan would surely never regret it.

Thanks for reading!

And with that, we are done with the prequel fics that had to come out before multi-chapter prequel! The fic Gaps in His Files will start releasing next week. It’s 14 chapters.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #sanders sides fic #relabeled; refiled #labeled universe #adriana writes

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wolfsgravity · 4 years ago

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I can’t sleep so I’m just thinkin’ about my range of Pokémon romantic F/Os. This series has meant so much to me for so long, and I know F/Os from that source make up a decent portion of my list. I’d feel more embarrassed about it if I didn’t make it abundantly clear that Pokémon is one of the most pervasive influences in my life from an exceedingly young age.

I just. I dunno. I find my collection of Pokémon series F/Os so interesting.

I’m just gonna ramble a bit.

I’m going to talk in Generational order, because my 1am brain couldn’t decipher a more cohesive timeline if it tried.

Giovanni is a funny one. As a kid, his character in the show intimidated me a little. But I really loved Team Rocket on some level. They were my first Pokémon villain organization, and with the Gen III games having Aqua and Magma, I decided pretty early that Team Rocket was my team. I had a stint in Magma since when I was young, I thought I’d specialize in Fire types, but eh it didn’t stick. No team really stuck nearly as much until Team Skull! So I had a lot of time for my intimidation from Giovanni to evolve into a fearful respect, to a mild devotion… by the time I played Let’s Go! and Ultra Moon, I was more than a little excited to see him in game. As in, I would quietly cheer when he appeared on my screen, in some weird giddy manner. It was only a matter of time before I realized I was crushing hard.

Steven Stone (he has a full name so more often than not I use it when referring to him) probably didn’t make the biggest impact on me in the original Gen III games? Hoenn was my favorite region for a while (in part due to pre- “Hoenn confirmed” hype), but he didn’t have a huge role in Ruby/Sapphire. Maybe I noticed him first in Emerald? I wish I could remember my real first inkling of crush on him, because I just remember when I played Omega Ruby… I was already obsessed with him. He showed up for the first time in game and I squealed. I spent the whole game seeking him out and already making romantic passes at him in my around-19-year-old head.

I am counting Grovyle for this, but it bears repeating that my S/I for the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon games is a Pokémon too. Those Mystery Dungeon games enamored me as a teen! I got to BE! A POKEMON!! So I probably got Explorers of Time/Darkness for DS not long after it released in 2008. I was so excited to have Gen IV Pokémon to be and battle and recruit, ugh, this game meant so much to me. I will always remember being part of Wigglytuff’s Guild super fondly. And like, as I am super susceptible to mental role play, putting myself in my characters shoes (or lil toe beans I guess) has always been second nature for me. So a dashing Grovyle just jumped into my silly life and was the most honorable and misunderstood character and I am not even joking when I say I fell for him in my first playthrough. And I’ve played through it a lot. I was always jealous of Celebi. I hate every Dusknoir I see to this day. *chefs kiss* Good game.

Gen V is “oops all F/Os” Gen, where to even start..

Just kidding, N is the obvious choice to start for me. He was love at first sight. He just, ugh, he cares about Pokémon SO MUCH. I literally don’t know how to even expand on this. He literally rode the Ferris Wheel with the player character in the game, and I WASNT supposed to interpret that as a date? Wack. It was a date. I love him so damn much. Next question

Elesa comes next because I’ve always thought she was stunning. I mean, duh I guess, she’s canonically a model. Also, Electric types are in my top 3, behind Fairy and somewhat tied with Fire, so she was a woman after my own heart. Her Emolga kinda wrecked my team and I respect that. Also, she loves puns. So again. Woman after my own heart. The only reason she’s still listed as Crush and not as Dating is because she intimidates me. She’s out of my league and I worry she’d only see me as a friend. Well, not “only”, her and Skyla are bffs and that also looks fun. I just. Can’t imagine her romantically being interested in me sometimes. Heh.

Grimsley was a crush that came on yeeeaaaars after his Gen, and it hit me like a freight train. I swear, he made very little impression on me in B/W, because I was young and I was just excited to possibly see N again as champion. I was a little shit, okay. I also never played B2/W2 all the way through, which is a huge stain on my Pokémon record. Anyways. When he showed up in Sun/Moon, I gasped. I was like, that’s a familiar face. Why is he hot now? (The answer is we was always hot, and I just had a few years to grow between games). But like, I kind of tamped it back down? I think I legit tried to tell myself around Sun/Moon era that I can’t keep finding Pokémon characters hot, because I was drooling over another one in Moon. Anywho. Grimsley kept popping up as fanart on my Tumblr dash for a while and by the time I pulled him in Pokémon Masters, I slipped into love. Whoops.

Professor Sycamore, probably not my proudest moment of fandom. He was another one I liked from the very introduction. I made fun of him in equal measure, but I affectionately referred to him as “Professor Hotdad” for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He’s not even the oldest of my Pokémon F/Os. One of my other Pokémon F/Os is canonically a father. But nope. Sycamore was Hotdad. That all said, he did make me smile like a crush-stricken schoolgirl when he talked in game so it wasn’t all just memey objectification. I do love him dearly.

Gen VII! Alola! Guzma! Oh man, like I’d stated earlier, Team Skull really nestled it’s way close to my heart the way no team had since Team Rocket. It wasn’t all because of Guzma, I really did like the group of ragtag misfits banding together and creating a family. Guzma was icing on the cake. Oh boy, he made my heart do funny little flips even when he was threatening me in game. I loved his design, I loved his character, the way he talked, I just. Ugh, I was down bad for ya boy in Moon and Ultra Moon. He’s actually the inspiration behind my main blog url: its-ya-boi-remington. The “Y’all are stupid!” line and face lives in my head rent free at all times. Guzma protection squad.

(Nanu isn’t a romantic so I won’t talk about him here, just know I’m not forgetting him!)

Leon was, believe it or not, my actual first Gen VIII crush. I saw that fashion disaster and felt a warm comfort from him. It didn’t help that I mentally read every character in Galar with some UK/British Isles accent, that sweetened the deal. I was actually gushing to a couple then-friends about Leon while we all played Sword/Shield together and they kind of mocked me about it. They chided me that Leon “doesn’t bat for my team” and said either of them would have a better chance with him if he were real. So I was a little downtrodden about Leon after that for quite a while. It wasn’t until a couple months ago when suddenly it hit me that A- He’s literally fictional and my version of him can like me regardless of what “team he bats for” and B- I’m nonbinary? So rules get thrown out the window, anyone who likes me is both a miracle and some kind of gay whatever way you spin it. So I let myself warm back up to him, though I’m still a little skittish from before.

Piers, I guess, as awful as it sounds, was initially a crush rebound. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’d have been attracted either way. He’s a musician, a SINGER no less, and has that emo/punk vibe. But he’s also gentle and kind. Swoon. But it helped that I had my crush-feelers out full-force for a cutie in game to obsess over since I was still butthurt about my “friends” killing my crush on Leon. Obsess I did, and continue to do. I could probably snap this man over my knee like firewood he’s so lanky, idk why I put that in here but it’s staying. Piers is the one I most imagine jamming out with on a regular basis, and it makes performing for no one a bit more fun 🥰

I’m finally getting tired, I feel like I’ve been typing this for an hour. I probably have been. Ah geez now I gotta tag all these F/Os lmao. Thanks for letting me ramble.

#all my Pokémon romantic ships ahoy #ship: darkpoppunk #ship: it’s ya bois #ship: despite being french #ship: natural number one #ship: da boss’s favorite #ship: she’s electrifyin #ship: taking a gamble on you #ship: I got lost in your eyes #ship: time stops for you

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saiilorstars · 5 years ago

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The Beginning of Everything

Ch. 22: The Future Comes Across

// Story Masterlist //

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 10th Doctor x Female OC

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Chapter summary: After visiting King Henry VIII, the Doctor doesn’t know how to confront Renata about what happened between them. Renata’s continued silence only makes the Doctor even more nervous. But, there’s more to Renata’s silence than he believes and instead of finding an easier way to come clean to him, Renata comes across...River Song.

It was a rare sight to see the Doctor so silent and only looking at a screen. Donna didn't think she'd ever seen him like that, which made it harder to break his concentration. She'd tiptoed into the console room, careful not to be heard as she came up behind him. And that's when she saw what he was looking at on the screen.

Ginger hair and freckles. "Is that her?" her soft voice was still enough to make the Doctor jump. Donna didn't mind that he'd swooped to shut down the screen, almost bonking his head along the corner in the process. Donna had seen enough to understand. "That was her, wasn't it? Zuriah? The girl you used to love?"

The Doctor didn't say anything as he moved away from Donna. She watched him walk slowly around the console,, his head hanging low. "I didn't mean to sneak up on you. But...if it counts for anything… she's really pretty."

A light smile spread across the Doctor's face. "Yeah, she was…"

Donna smiled with him. "We're you just remembering her?" The Doctor was about to shake his head but something stopped him midway. Donna studied his unusual expression and ultimately had to ask what was wrong. "You know I won't say anything."

At that, the Doctor smiled again. "It's stupid."

"If it's what's making that face I don't think it is."

The Doctor sighed. "It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?"

"Zuriah...Renata…" he closed his eyes and let his back lean against the console, "Ever since the whole Agatha Christie incident I can't stop thinking about the moment I kissed Renata." And he wouldn't even mention the kiss they shared a few days ago in Hampton Court Palace. It still made his insides warm up like there was no tomorrow.

"Aah," Donna was fast to smirk.

"I've just been thinking, realizing, that it was very familiar. Everything between Renata and I...it's just so familiar."

"You mean...Renata reminded you of Zuriah?" Donna tilted her head. It was a fair thing considering the two women had been friends long ago. Except, it was one thing was to be reminded of Zuriah because of the friendship she shared with Renata and another thing was to remember Zuriah by kissing her friend.

"I know, it doesn't make sense and it's plain awful that I'm doing this," the Doctor leaned away from the console. He couldn't figure it out. He was just so confused and it was driving him crazy. Worst of all was that he didn't have the courage to talk to Renata about it, at least not yet. It'd been a few days since the whole King Henry visit and while they had shared a wonderful moment, neither seemed to be able to talk about it afterwards. They were still close, they were good friends, but...something wasn't right. It pained the Doctor that Renata wouldn't talk about their kiss, that she wouldn't mention their night adventure through the palace. Had she regretted it? Was she being kind and just ignoring it? Moving on from it?

The Doctor felt his hearts stop each time he thought about Renata moving on from that kiss. Donna was right, he was smitten with Renata. He was so smitten with her.

"Doctor?" Donna called his name when his face had turned pale. "Hey, are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not," he exhaled deeply as he let his body lean against the console. "Oh, Donna. You were right."

"I was," Donna nodded her head firmly before asking, "What was I right about?"

"I like Renata. I really like her and right now...I'm going crazy."

Donna's eyes widened. She thought she would have to work at least a few more weeks to crack the Doctor, but it seems like Renata took care of that already. "Oh, um...well, at least you admit it. That's a good step. Honestly, it wasn't that hard to tell. Anyone could see it."

"Yeah?" the Doctor glanced at her. "What do you think about Renata, then? You think she...reciprocates these...feelings?"

Donna scoffed. "Please! It's so obvious, Doctor! I don't know how you missed it! The way she looks at you! All those little smiles she gives you! How could you have missed it? Well, I suppose the same way she missed the fact you like her too! For two people who are so smart, you sure are dumb!"

"Alright, alright, I get it," the Doctor rolled his eyes. Leave it to Donna to make him smile right now.

"So what are you going to do? Ask her out on a date? Oh, how about-"

"Donna, we kissed. We kissed and now I don't know how to talk to her about it," the Doctor found himself blurting. He couldn't picture himself having this type of talk with anyone, but Donna gave him a sense of security. She would keep his secrets just like he imagined Gabby kept Renata's. He wondered if Renata had told Gabby about their kiss...

"Wow, you work fast!" Donna laughed.

"It's not all so good. I haven't been able to talk to her about it and now I'm wondering if it's even worth doing it," the Doctor sighed. "If she hasn't talked to me about it then...wouldn't that mean she doesn't want to talk about it?

"Not precisely. Could just be that Renata's nervous about it," Donna shrugged. "I've had loads of friends do that."

"So then how do I talk to her about it?"

"Well, first you gotta know what you want to to tell her. I have seen so many relationships fail because the bloke has no idea what he wants. That's a sure way to make a woman angry. What do you want with Renata?"

The Doctor exhaled at the question. If he was being honest with himself, the first thing he would want from Renata was to kiss her again. He'd want nothing more than to kiss her and for a longer time than their previous one had been. "I do want something with her but I also confess that...that I'm concerned."

"Concerned about what?" Donna asked curiously.

"That everything about her is so familiar. It's not fair to her that I keep thinking about Zuriah. And then I don't know why I keep thinking back to Zuriah."

"Maybe you just need some time to sort your head out," Donna suggested. He wouldn't be the first man to be confused between two women, even if one was a ghost.

"I guess..." the Doctor sighed. He might just be horrible though because even though he was confused, he knew that he did want Renata. He wanted her now. It made it incredibly hard to keep his hands from touching her during these past days. He even struggled not to keep looking at her after what was considered normal. He had no idea how Renata was so normal. Actually, maybe he did. She was trained to keep her emotions inside and she was damn good at it.

The Doctor didn't know if she was acting normal because she'd moved on from their kiss or if she was just faking. It was driving him crazy! He needed to figure something out soon because he didn't know how much longer he could last like this.

~ 0 ~

Renata was completely enamored with their current location. It was a huge library that was literally the planet. "This is it," she murmured as she made her way through the reception area. "This is literally my favorite trip."

"We've only been here for 2 minutes," Gabby pointed out but Renata waved her off.

"I don't care. This is my favorite one. It's so big, it's full of books, it's quiet and...normal..." Renata turned to the Doctor, allowing him to view her wide-eyed expression. "Why did it take you so long to show me this place?"

The Doctor smiled a tight smile, one that Renata discreetly noticed. She could only guess what was running through his head. She inwardly sighed to herself. She was ruining things, she knew she was but she was such a coward...and scared. She was so scared.

After their kiss in King Henry VIII's palace, Renata knew there was no way she could keep up her charade with the Doctor. That was ruined the moment she let him put his lips on hers. She loved him too much and the fact he had chosen to kiss her meant that he was starting to feel something for her...but the wrong her. She would truly be the worst type of woman if she allowed the Doctor to develop feelings for this version of her when he didn't know who she really was. That's where she drew the line. She would hurt him even more if she let him believe he was falling for a different woman. But she was so scared to tell him the truth. She had lied for too long that he was definitely react badly to it. It was his right to. He had been fed too many lies, one after the other, that the only thing he should do with her was to throw her out of the TARDIS. Just thinking about it broke Renata's hearts, but she knew she had no right to protest.

If she was being honest, she was disgusted with herself. For too long she had hidden and lied and it was only now that she realized she only set up the path that would hurt the man she loved most. It seemed like she was always destined to hurt the Doctor. Renata hated herself. Every day, she hated herself a little bit more.

"This is the 51st century, right?" Renata crossed the reception, leading the group through a door that would bring them to quite a view. She needed to control her feelings right now. She was secretly flexing her fingers as the familiar warmth spread through them. That energy was getting stronger, like it wanted to burst. "You know, I'm not much of a future girl but I do like the fact that this Century has holovids, direct to brain downloads and fiction mist."

"What? You get a book download into your head?" Donna tapped the side of her own head.

"Yeah, I know, not all that great if you're old fashioned and want a physical copy."

"Oh wow," Donna came first to see the view ahead of them. She walked closer to the rail and saw endless aisles of bookshelves. "It truly is a city!"

"The Library," the Doctor came up beside her to admire the view. "So big it doesn't need a name. Just a great big 'the'."

"A library that's a planet!" Renata laughed as she came to the view as well. "Now this is fantastic!"

"It is," agreed the Doctor. "The whole core of the planet is the index computer, biggest hard drive ever. And up here, every book ever written. Whole continents of Jeffrey Archer, Bridget Jones, Monty Python's Big Red Book. Brand new editions, specially printed. We're near the equator, so…" he licked his finger and raised it to the air, "This must be Biographies! I do love biographies!"

"Yeah, very you. Always a death at the end," Donna remarked. Gabby cleared her throat and gave her a pointed look. "Right," Donna murmured. The topic about death was a touchy one considering their uptight Time Lady still wasn't being honest about her own death arriving.

Renata had wandered away from the railing and sifted through some books, but she ultimately realized that they were very much alone. "It's so... silent," she remarked. "Where is everyone?"

The Doctor wondered the same thing. He found an information terminal and tinkered with it.

"Maybe it's a Sunday?" Donna said.

"No, I never land on Sundays. Sundays are boring."

"It is library. Maybe everyone's really quiet," Gabby thought next.

"Yeah, maybe. But they'd still show up on the system," the Doctor murmured as he went deeper into the terminal's system.

"I'm beginning to think that there's something going on," Renata left the table of books she stopped by and walked over to the Doctor. "This wasn't your first choice of trips."

"It wasn't?" he repeated, not really paying her attention. The system was a bit difficult to get through.

"No. If I recall correctly, you mentioned something about a beach…"

"Did I?"

"Yeah, so why the sudden change?"

But the Doctor had finally found something worthwhile. "Now, that's interesting. I'm scanning for life forms. If I do a scan looking for your basic humanoids - you know, your book readers, few limbs and a face - apart from us, I get nothing. Zippo, nada, see?"

Renata gazed at the screen herself to confirm what he was saying. "Hm, nobody home I guess?"

"Right, but if I widen the parameters to any kind of life…" the Doctor went in again to change the settings and this time when the scan was done they got an "error; .000; lifeform number capped at maximum record' on the screen. "A million million. Gives up after that. A million million."

"But... there's nothing here…" Gabby gave an unsettling look around the place. She was starting to get a bad feeling. "There's no-one."

"And not a sound," the Doctor added. "A million million life forms, and silence in the Library."

"But there's no-one here. There's just books. I mean, it's not the books, is it?" Donna wanted to laugh but then she realized she'd seen crazier things before. "Wait...can the books be alive?"

Renata turned her head slowly at the nearest table of books. She wanted to think it was a crazy idea but, like Donna had also thought, they'd seen far crazier things already. She cautiously moved to the table and reached for a book, readying herself in case one of them snapped to bite her-

"Welcome!"

Renata actually yelled and snapped her hand back to her chest.

"It came from in there!" Gabby pointed in the direction they'd come from. They all bolted back and searched for the source of the unknown voice.

It turned out to be a Node, a statue with an actual face on its head. "I am Courtesy Node 710/aqua. Please enjoy the Library and respect the personal access codes of all your fellow readers regardless of species or hygiene taboo."

Donna couldn't help but stare at its talking face. It was too creepy. "That face, it looks real."

The Doctor knew where she was getting at and wondered how badly it would get to her. "Yeah, don't worry about it."

"But a statue with a real face, though! It's a hologram or something, isn't it?"

"It's got to be," Gabby said instinctively but then shot a look at Renata when the doubt got to her. "Right?" Renata didn't say anything but the face she was making had all the answers. Gabby wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Oh, that's gross!"

"Additional," the Mode started up again. "There follows a brief message from the head librarian for your urgent attention. It has been edited for tone and content by Felman Lux Automated Decency Filter. Message follows. 'Run. For God's sake, run. No way is safe. The Library has sealed itself, we can't...oh, they're here. Arg. Slarg. Snick.'" Message ends. Please switch off your mobile comm units for the comfort of other readers."

"So that's why we're here…" the Doctor murmured. "Any other messages, same date stamp?"

"One additional message. This message carries a Felman Lux coherency warning of 5, 0, 11…"The Doctor could not deal with the legalities and hurried the Node along. "Message follows: 'Count the shadows. For God's sake, remember... if you want to live, count the shadows.' Message ends."

There was a collective fear that spread amongst the group.

"Everyone...stay out of the shadows," the Doctor warned as he himself made sure not to stand over a shadow that wasn't his.

"This is supposed to be a library - what could there be in the Shadows?" Renata could not believe that something as simple - as peaceful - as a library could be ruined.

The Doctor couldn't answer correctly, so he started leading them through another door to come across a huge aisle of bookshelves. It was several floors high, possibly endless since they couldn't even see the actual top.

"Alright Doctor, the jig is up," Donna said, shooting him all her suspicious looks. "We weren't just in the neighborhood. Why are we here?"

The Doctor supposed she was right. Better to start with the truth if they wanted to focus on figuring out what was wrong with the library. "Yeah, alright, I kind of, sort of lied a bit. I got a message on the psychic paper."

"You did what!?" Renata groaned. She should've known better than to believe he would openly come to a place like this when the only adventure were the skyscraper bookshelves.

He showed them his psychic paper which had a message left for him. ' The Library. Come as soon as you can. x'

"What do you think? Cry for help?"

"Cry for help - with a kiss?" Gabby raised an eyebrow at him. "Looks more like a message for a date."

"Who's it from?" asked Renata with an unusual hardness in her tone.

"No idea."

"So then we have no idea if this has all just been a big ole trap?"

The Doctor briefly looked to the side. "Uuh…"

Renata groaned. "This is why we do environmental checks before we leave the TARDIS!"

"I didn't think we needed one! This is a library!"

"Those were the rumors until a statue told us to run!"

Gabby didn't want to listen to them bicker so she looked away, but in doing so she noticed that the lights were going out at the end of the corridor. "Uh, guys! The lights!"

The Doctor and Renata quit arguing to see what Gabby meant and we're equally horrified to see darkness coming towards them.

"Run!" the Doctor ordered before taking charge. They came to a locked door and despite attempting to use his sonic, it wouldn't budge. "Jammed! The wood's warped!"

"What? And the sonic doesn't work!?" Donna exclaimed.

"I can't, it's wood!"

"What?" Gabby nearly keeled over from shock. "That thing can do hundreds of things against aliens but it can't open a stupid wooden door!?"

"Dare I ask about mine?" Renata waved her own sonic in the air.

"I...wouldn't," the Doctor sighed and tried fiddling with his sonic again. There had to be something he could do. "Hang on, hang on, if I can vibrate the molecules, fry the bindings, I can shatterline the interface…"

Donna groaned. At this rate they would die faster. "Oh, get out of the way!" she shoved the man to the side and kicked the door open with all her might.

"Alright Donna!" Gabby laughed, impressed with their friend's quick thinking.

"Yeah, yeah, get in!" Renata ushered them in first then pulled the Doctor behind her.

Together they quickly shut the door and used a book to bolt it. When the Doctor turned around to see where they were, he found a small girl standing a few feet away.

"Oh! Hello! Sorry to burst on you like this. OK if we stop here for a bit?"

But the girl blinked and turned into a sphere instead.

"That's...new." Gabby blinked. "Can we expect more little girls turning into spheres?"

The Doctor, not amused with her question, shot her a momentary glare. He rushed to pick up the sphere and sonicked it. "Security camera. Switched itself off."

"Why would it switch off?" asked Renata when she joined him. It looked high tech, definitely something a library like this one would have.

Somewhere along the sonicking, the sphere gave a high pitched scream. It almost sounded like it was…

"Wait, stop!" Renata snag he'd the sphere from the Doctor's hands. "Look!" she turned it over from him to see the words running along its screen.

'No, stop it, no, no!'

"Ooh, I'm sorry!" the Doctor put the sonic away for the moment. Scanning it wouldn't be an option anymore. "I really am, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"It's alive," Renata carefully put the sphere back on the floor.

"I thought you said it was a security camera," Donna eyed the sphere as if it would move on them.

"It is. It's an alive one," the Doctor said.

"Look, it's saying something else," Gabby saw new words running across the screen. She bent down beside it to read aloud. "The others are coming?" she looked up at the alien pair, confused and a bit afraid. "Who are the 'others'?"

"I'm afraid to ask what that even means," sighed Donna who then noticed another Node in the room. "But I guess we'll have to." She walked up to it and, despite however creepy it was, she asked it a question. "Excuse me, what does it mean, "others"?"

"That's barely more than a speak your weight machine, it can't help you," the Doctor pointed out before she wasted more of her breath.

"So why's it got a face?"

The Node took care of the answer "This flesh aspect was donated by Mark Chambers on the occasion of his death."

Donna leaned forwards when she thought she heard wrong. Even Gabby had gotten back on her feet to stare in horror.

"It's a real face?!" Donna almost shrieked.

"It has been actualized individually for you from the many facial aspects saved to our extensive flesh banks. Please enjoy."

"Enjoy?" Gabby repeated.

"It chose me a dead face it thought I'd like?" Donna turned away from the Node, almost outraged. "That statue's got a real dead person's face on it…"

"Unfortunately that's not so uncommon here in the 51st century," Renata said with a crinkled nose.

"I want to leave now," Gabby resolved and turned away from the Node as well. She was about to walk away when the Doctor shouted for her to stop. He dove forwards to yank her in the opposite direction.

"What!? Ah!" she pushed him away in fear.

"The shadow, look!"

She'd been about to step on a dark shadow behind her. "What about it?"

"Count the shadows."

"One. There, I counted it, one shadow."

"Gabby you're not getting it," Renata seemed a bit more afraid than usual. "If that's a shadow...what's casting it?"

Gabby froze with wide eyes. Donna quickly looked around her immediate area to see if there was another unaccounted Shadow nearby.

"Oh! I'm thick! Look at me, I'm old and thick!" the Doctor banged a few fingers against his head. "Head's too full of stuff, I need a bigger head!"

"I think the world would literally explode," Renata couldn't help make the remark. It did elicit a smile from him though, a rather nice one.

They followed the Doctor towards a corridor and saw that it was pitch dark except for one lamp still blinking.

"Power must be going," Donna concluded.

"This place runs on fission cells. They'll outburn the sun," the Doctor said.

"Then why is it dark?"

"...it's not dark."

Donna went wide-eyed and turned away, only when she did she realized that the shadow Gabby had nearly stepped on was no longer there. "That shadow. It's gone."

That was it for the Doctor. "We need to get back to the TARDIS." Of course for Gabby and Donna it was very weird behavior.

"Why?" asked Gabby.

"Because that shadow hasn't gone. It's moved."

"Doctor, I don't like this place anymore," Renata was frantically searching for more Shadows trying to literally creep up on them.

"Reminder," the Node started again, "The Library has been breached, others are coming. Reminder: the Library has been breached, others are coming. Reminder: the Library has been breached…"

Another door in the room flung open and allowed six people - dressed in white spacesuits - inside. One of them, presumed to be the leader, walked straight to the Doctor, an action that made the man backtrack a couple steps.

The spacesuited person switched their visor to transparent to show their face. A woman with ashy brown hair and blue eyes smiled at him. "Hello sweetie."

Renata raised an eyebrow at her, but the Doctor had only gotten the fact that there were 6 unidentified humans trespassing into a dangerous place. "Get out!" he ordered them. "All of you, turn around, get back in your rocket and fly away! Tell your grandchildren you came to the Library and lived, they won't believe you!"

The woman inside the spacesuit paid him no attention and turned to her crew instead. "Pop your helmets, everyone. We've got breathers." At her command, everyone removed their helmets.

"How do you know they're not androids?" one of the females in the crew asked her.

"Cos I've dated androids. They're rubbish."

A bald man went straight to the group, looking just as displeased with them as the Doctor was with the crew. "Who is this? You said we were the only expedition, I paid for exclusives."

The woman shrugged. "I lied, I'm always lying. Bound to be others."

"Miss Evangelista," the man barked at a petite woman. "I want to see the contracts."

"You came through the north door, yeah?" the ashy-brown haired woman asked the Doctor. "How's that, much damage?"

"Please, just leave," the Doctor went flat with his tone. "I'm asking you seriously and properly, just lea... Hang on. Did you say expedition?"

"My expedition, I funded it," the bald man made sure to clarify it.

"And how are you feeling about it?" Renata questioned him since she was sure they'd probably come across the fearsome shadows.

"Oh, you're not, are you? Tell me you're not archaeologists," the Doctor rubbed his face in frustration. That's the last thing he needed.

"Got a problem with archaeologists?" the lead woman asked from him, sounding amused.

The Doctor dropped his hands to his side. "I'm a time traveler. I point and laugh at archaeologists."

"Well that's not nice," Gabby chuckled. The woman spared her a look that wasn't too...kind. It quieted Gabby down in seconds.

"Who are you?" asked Donna. She wasn't given any type of look.

"Ah. Professor River Song, archaeologist."

"River Song, lovely name. As you're leaving, and you're leaving now... you need to set up a quarantine beacon," the Doctor turned her around for the nearest door. "Code-wall the planet, the whole planet. Nobody comes here, not ever again... not one living thing, not here, not ever."

"Wait, stop!" he heard Renata cry. He'd turned to see one of the female crew members had nearly stepped on a shadow. "Trust me, you don't want to go anywhere near a shadow. "What's your name?"

"Anita," the woman responded shakily.

"Anita, stay out of the shadows, alright?"

"Yeah, we got that," River cut in, sounding a bit irritated with Renata. Like Gabby - though more - Renata was getting a similar cold look.

"She's right," the Doctor agreed with Renata. "Not a foot, not a finger in the shadows till you're safely back in your ship. Goes for all of you. Stay in the light. Find a nice, bright spot and just stand. If you understand me, look very, very scared."

"Those aren't very good instructions," Gabby remarked.

The Doctor could agree but he worked with what he had. He suddenly pointed at another man of the crew. "You, who are you?"

"Uh, Dave."

"OK, Dave-"

"Oh, well Other Dave, because that's Proper Dave the pilot-" he pointed to the last man of the crew, "-he was the first Dave, so when we…"

The Doctor didn't want to listen anymore, not when their lives were in danger. He grabbed Other Dave and walked them to the open door. "Other Dave, the way you came, does it look the same as before?"

"Yeah. Oh, it's a bit darker."

"How much darker?"

"Oh, like I could see where we came through just like a moment ago. I can't now."

The Doctor took that as the red alarm it was. "Seal up this door. We'll find another way out."

"We're not looking for a way out," the bald man said in a snark.

"Oh, so you want to die," Renata said as the only logical reason behind his choice.

The man glared at her but called for the petite woman from before. "Miss Evangelista?"

Miss Evangelista gathered the travelers together to hand them each a pile of papers. "I'm Mr. Lux's personal... everything. You need to sign these contracts agreeing that your individual experience inside the Library are the intellectual property of the Felman Lux Corporation."

"Humans," Renata looked at the Doctor and this time he couldn't really say anything to her. Instead, he ripped up the contract, prompting the others to do the same.

Lux nearly lost it at their outright disrespect. "My family built this Library. I have rights!"

"You have a mouth that won't stop," River promptly corrected and turned to the Doctor with a sweet smile, as if she hadn't just been rude. "You think there's danger here?"

The Doctor's expression was flat. Was he not being clear when he tried throwing them out? Did he have to speak louder? He cleared his throat and went ahead and explained one more time, "Something came to this Library and killed everything in it, killed a whole world. Danger? Could be."

"But that was 100 years ago. The Library's been silent for 100 years. Whatever came here is long dead."

"Or it's just something that's really patient," Renata offered an alternative she believed could be very true. Unfortunately, River ignored her.

"What are you doing?" Lux asked Other Dave when he caught the man locking up the door.

"He said seal the door!"

"Torch!" the Doctor said right before snatching a torch from Lux's hand.

"You're taking orders from him?" Lux glared at his crew member for the blatant disobedience.

"Spooky, isn't it?" the Doctor found the time to smirk at Lux as he walked to the other side of the room. There were so many things he could look through, but he doubted one of them would give him an idea of how to get everybody out of there unharmed. "Almost every species in the universe has an irrational fear of the dark. But they're wrong. Cos it's not irrational. It's Vashta Nerada."

"Vastha what?" Gabby raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh not that…" Renata brought a hand to cover her mouth. That was seriously the last thing they needed. That lesson she learned very fast in the academy - mostly because it had scared the living daylights out of her.

"What's Vashta Nerada?" Donna asked the same question in hopes of finally getting the answer.

"Bad, just very bad," Renata dropped her hand to her side. "It's what's in the dark. It's what's always in the dark. So it makes it harder to fight...I'd rather see Weeping Angels. Doctor," she marched for him, missing the way River watched her, "How do we fight Vashta Nerada without getting killed?"

She'd stopped him momentarily from his search, but it was only for him to see her honest fear. He didn't want to tell her that he had no idea, but…

There's always something, he reminded himself. He looked around the room for the slightest of things that could help. "Lights!" he exclaimed. "That's what we need, lights. You got lights?"

"What for?" called River.

"Form a circle, safe area, big as you can, lights pointing out."

"Oi! Do as he says!" River told the rest of the crew, even clapping her hands to make sure they heard her. Despite Lux's defensiveness, the crew followed River's instructions. "Anita, unpack the lights. Other Dave, make sure the door's secure, then help Anita. Mr. Lux, put your helmet back on, block the visor. Proper Dave, find an active terminal. I want you to access the Library database, see what you can find about what happened here a hundred years ago. Pretty Boy, you're with me. Step into my office."

Renata shot River a look for her choice of words. She seemed to know the Doctor but...he didn't seem to. But she was a bit...distant with the rest. She'd already noticed long ago that River had only introduced herself because Donna asked her but even then River had yet to introduce herself to Gabby or Renata herself.

"I have no idea what's going on," Gabby came over to Renata, heaving a big sigh. "All I know is that I should be afraid...of the dark. Did I get that right?"

Renata hated to nod her head, but she had to. "We'll get out of this, we always do."

"Pretty boy, with me I said!" River's call for the Doctor garnered both their attention. The Doctor had yet to notice he was being requested.

"And should we be worried about her?" Gabby whispered to Renata while discreetly pointing a finger at River. "We have no idea who she is."

"No, but…" Renata brought her arms over one another, her tongue swiveling inside while she tried calming herself, "...she seems to know the Doctor very well."

"Doctor, for goodness' sake!" River got tired and motioned the Doctor to join her.

"Oh was I Pretty Boy?" he stopped to question his companions.

"Yes," Donna answered flatly then thought to the side for a moment. "Did that come out a bit quick?"

"Pretty?!"

"Meh."

Renata smiled at Donna. When the Doctor finally joined River at a different table, she was rummaging through her bag. She pulled out a dark blue book with the TARDIS pattern on the cover.

"Thanks," she said.

"For what?"

"The usual. For coming when I call."

The Doctor blinked, almost tempted to take his psychic paper out to reread the message again. "Oh, that was you?"

River smiled but it was one that led to confusion. "You're doing a very good job, acting like you don't know me. What did I do this time, according to Gabby?"

"Gabby?" the Doctor repeated, briefly glancing at the girl. Renata was keeping her and Donna busy in safe zones, as well as overlooking what the others were doing. "Why would she say something?"

"Well, one never knows with her but since she's always with Renata I'm always prepared," River grabbed her TARDIS colored blue book. The Doctor caught onto the extra emphasis River put on Renata's name and it didn't exactly sound friendly. "OK, shall we do diaries, then? Where are we this time?" she searched his face for any type of clue but all she saw was that he was very young. "So I'd say it's early days for you. So, um…" she opened her book and skimmed a few pages, "Crash of the Byzantium, have we done that yet?" the Doctor scrunched his face, giving her the answer she needed. "Oh, how about the Silva gemstone hunt?" The Doctor was silent. "Blimey, very early days, then. Huh, life with a time traveler, never knew it could be such hard work." She lowered her book and really examined the Doctor's face. She blinked when it hit her. "You're so young."

"I'm really not, you know…"

"Nah, but you are. Your eyes. You're younger than I've ever seen you."

"You've seen me before, then?"

River stiffened when a new realization struck her, the possibility of it making her shake for a moment. "Doctor... please tell me you know who I am?" The hope on her face made the Doctor feel terrible when he asked her who she was. He always remembered everyone he met, but River was not one of them.

An alarm rang in the room, but it was a strange type. Still, it made everyone in the room jump.

"Sorry, that was me!" Proper Dave cleared his throat. "Trying to get through into the security protocols, I seem to have set something off. What is that? Is that an alarm?"

"No…" Renata looked at Gabby and Donna, the answer right at the tip of her tongue.

"It's a phone!" Gabby exclaimed first.

"I'm trying to call up the data core, but it's not responding. Just that noise," Proper Dave explained.

"No buddy, that's a phone," Gabby wanted to walk over to him but as soon as she took a few steps towards him, Renata pulled her back. "Okay…"

"Let me try something," the Doctor headed for the terminal that Proper Dave was working on. He noticed the screen was showing the same symbol the security camera they'd found earlier had. Access denied. "OK, doesn't like that, let's try something else." He did a bit more tinkering and was relieved to see that this time the screen was brightening up. "OK, here it comes. Hello?"

The screen showed a little girl who looked perfectly normal, though very much confused. "Hello," she came closer to the screen. "Are you in my television?"

"Well, no, I'm, I'm... sort of in space. I, I was trying to call up the data core of a triple-grid security processor."

"Doctor, she doesn't understand that," Renata laughed at him and moved up to stand beside him. "Hi there sweetie," she smiled at the girl. "Is there an adult with you, by any chance?"

"My Dad is," the girl smiled back at her. She tilted her head suddenly, examining the pair on her end of the screen. "I know you! You were in my Library."

"Your library?" the two Time Lords repeated.

"The Library's never been on the television before. What have you done?"

Renata turned her head at the Doctor, her expression nearly asking him the same thing.

"I-I didn't do anything!" he exclaimed. "I just rerouted the interface…"

But the connection broke then.

"Who was that?" asked River as she walked on over as well. The screen returned to its 'access denied' bit.

"I need another terminal!" the Doctor decided and ran to where River had set up her station. There was another terminal beside it. "Keep working on those lights, we need those lights!"

"Is there anything we can do?" Gabby caught River by the arm but the moment she did River jerked away...almost in fear. It froze Gabby in her spot, but it didn't keep River at bay.

"I told you to never touch me!"

"I didn't mean-"

"Keep your butterflies off of me!" River's voice, though threatening, had an underlying shakiness. River soon met Renata's gaze and gave the Time Lady a cold glare. "She touched me so don't even start!"

Renata blinked with bemusement, something that further angered River. "I have no idea what you're talking about." River scoffed. "I really don't." Renata said calmly. She wasn't much for stand offs, especially with people she didn't even know. "But please don't yell at my friend. She hasn't done anything."

"Renée?" the Doctor called to the Time Lady. Renata's eyes lingered on River's glaring gaze, wanting to figure out the puzzle right in that moment but it was impossible. So, she walked away to reach the Doctor. "What was that about?" he asked her quietly.

"I don't know," Renata shrugged. "But maybe you'll find out considering she seems to know you...and very well by the looks of it."

The Doctor's brow furrowed at her accusation. "What are you trying to say?"

Suddenly, Renata saw them back in King Henry's palace with the Doctor accusing her of having an affair with the King. She was getting the same feeling, the same urge, to ask the Doctor. She didn't have the right to. She couldn't be even worse than what she already was. "Nothing, I'm sorry," she sighed.

"Renata," the Doctor started with a new nervousness that hadn't been on his face seconds ago, "I've been...I've been meaning to talk to you..."

Renata swallowed hard when she presumed where the conversation would steer to. In her attempt to look away, she spotted River's diary on the table. "What's that?"

"Hm?" the Doctor followed her gaze to the table and saw the diary. "Oh, uh, it's hers. It's her diary."

"It's just like the TARDIS…"

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Don't touch it," River came by to take the book off the table. "You're not allowed to see inside the book, it's against the rules."

"What rules?" frowned Renata.

"Yours," River made a nod at her then the Doctor.

"Ah." Renata wouldn't even question it then. She was about to turn away when books started flinging off the shelves.

"What's that!?" Donna ducked and yanked Gabby down with her before they were both smacked in the face. "Doctor!"

"I didn't do anything!" the man cried. "Did you!?" he set eyes on Proper Dave.

"No!"

"Doesn't matter who did it - someone stop it!" Renata covered her head with her arms.

The Doctor returned to the terminal without being hit - yet - and saw the screen were now blinking 'CAL'. "What's CAL?"

The books eventually stopped flying off, letting the crew and the travelers get back on their feet.

"This is beyond crazy," Gabby said after being able to stand again. "What's causing the books to fly off the shelves? The Shadows?"

"Don't be ridiculous," River rolled her eyes. "It's probably the girl."

"Begging the question of who is that little girl," the Doctor took in a deep breath. Nothing was making sense. "What's she got to do with this place? How does the data core work? What's the principle? And what's CAL?"

That last question River could answer. "Ask Mr. Lux. He owns the place."

"CAL, what is it?" he turned to the man in question, expecting an answer but instead god a sneer.

"Sorry. You didn't sign your personal experience contracts."

The noise that slipped through Renata's lips was not a kind one. "Humans!" she gestured to Lux as her prime example. "We're all in danger of dying but you care more about protecting a patent!? Doctor!"

"Yeah, alright, I'll give you that one," the Doctor raised his hands. Today was not a good day for humankind.

"I'm protecting my family's pride," Lux tried defending himself but his answer was no better than the first.

"Well, funny thing, Mr Lux, I don't want to see everyone in this room dead because some idiot thinks his pride is more important!" the Doctor snapped.

"Then why don't you sign his contract?" River made him pause where he was. Of course before he answered, she grinned mischievously. "I didn't either. I'm getting worse than you."

"Okay, okay, okay. Let's start at the beginning. What happened here?" the Doctor really tried focusing this time. If he couldn't figure things out from where they stood, but maybe if he started from the beginning, things could change. "On the actual day, a hundred years ago, what physically happened?"

"There was a message from the Library. Just one," River answered. ""The lights are going out". Then the computer sealed the planet, and there was nothing for a hundred years."

"It's taken three generations of my family just to decode the seals and get back in," Lux added.

"Did you ever think that was a clue not to open it?" asked Donna. If she saw three different, high tech locks on a door she would take that as something that shouldn't be opened under any circumstances.

"Um... excuse me…" Miss Evangalista tried to cut into the conversation but Lux shut her down without even sparing her a glance. She'd actually found something on the wall.

"There was one other thing in the last message…" River said after a moment. As soon as she admitted it, Lux threw daggers at her.

"That's confidential!"

"I trust this man. With my life, with everything!" River's certainty left various reactions amongst the TARDIS travelers.

Both Gabby and Donna were in similar states of surprise considering the Doctor had never even mentioned that woman.

Renata was simply stunned. She'd never met anyone who had that same belief in the Doctor. It saddened her a bit to realize that she - Zuriah - was no longer the only woman to have had that type of faith in the Doctor. You made everything happened, she blamed herself. He had no obligation to stay alone because she made the wrong choice. But it made her wonder just how well River actually knew the Doctor and vice versa. River was clearly from the future and Renata didn't even know what the future held for herself anymore.

The Doctor didn't know what to do with himself. He felt guilty that River trusted him when he really had zero clue who she was. She was so sure and yet clearly hurt that he didn't know her. That was time travel, unfortunately. Sometimes not everything happened in order.

"You've only just met him!" Lux barked but he was no match for River's voice.

"No, he's only just met me!"

"Um. This might be important actually…" Miss Evangelista tried once again but the conversation was too heated for any interruptions.

"In a moment!" Lux shouted at her and that was it for her.

River sighed heavily and went for her PDA left on the table. Better to get things moving before they were killed, after all. "This is a data extract that came with the message." She came back to the Doctor to show him the complete message.

He took it from her and saw the main reason they were in the building. ""4022 saved. No survivors."

"4022, that's the exact number of people who were in the Library when the planet was sealed."

"But how can 4022 people have been saved if there were no survivors?" Donna inquired. So far the building had been absolutely silent. Unless these people were seriously good hiders, the building was empty.

"That's what we're here to find out," River told her.

"And so far, what we haven't found any bodies," Lux added.

"Well that's good isn't it?" Gabby's question earned her some strange looks. With a nervous smile, she elaborated. "I meant, if there aren't any bodies yet, it means there's a chance they're still alive.'

"Yes but where are they?" River hurriedly asked but didn't give Gabby the attention to even listen to her theories.

Suddenly, Miss Evangelista screamed but the crew and the travelers realized that she wasn't even in the room.

"When did she leave!?" Renata asked after a quick, frantic search for her in the room.

"Never mind that, c'mon!" the Doctor led the chase for the source of the woman's scream.

They came to a lecture room but all they found was a skeleton on the ground...wearing the same spacesuit Miss Evangelista was.

"Careful!" the Doctor warned the group as they gathered around the skeleton. "Everybody, careful! Stay in the light."

"Because of that, obviously," Renata gestured to the skeleton then glanced at Lux. "You wanted a body, there it is."

"Is that...is that Miss Evangelista?" River was horrified to see what was left of her co-worker. As if she couldn't fully believe it, she grabbed her communicator built into her spacesuit and called into it. "Miss Evangelista, please state your current…" but at the same time she spoke, her voice was heard in the spacesuit of the skeleton. She lowered her hand and carefully walked up to the skeleton. She pulled out a piece of the spacesuit's collar from its back and revealed a communicator that was still blinking green. "It's her. It's Miss Evangelista."

"We heard her scream a few seconds ago. What could do that to a person in a few seconds?" Anita asked, though she wasn't very interested in the answers. All she was interested in was getting the hell out of there.

"It took a lot less than a few seconds," the Doctor murmured. He felt at sole blame. He'd been so focus on figuring out who River was that he...he didn't even see when Miss Evangelista wandered out.

Renata didn't have to be telepathically connected with him to know where his thoughts were. She scooted to his side and touched his arm, giving him a small smile when he looked her way. "It's not," she said softly, hoping he would take her words seriously.

It seemed like he did. He found his own smile that he gave her and took her hand from his arm to hold in his own. It was a small moment but a moment nonetheless, and it was enough to give the Doctor the same feelings he'd been getting about her lately.

'Hello?'

River blinked at the sudden call from Miss Evangelista, but she secretly thanked it for cutting the two Time Lords apart. It was just like Renata to play soft when the moment called for it, but God forbid the Doctor did something wrong. "Um, I'm sorry everyone, um, this isn't going to be pleasant. She's ghosting."

"She's what?" Donna didn't know whether she should be looking for a ghost around.

'Hello, excuse me? I - I'm sorry, hello? Excuse me?'

"That's...that's her, that's Miss Evangelista!" Donna wondered, for a brief moment, if Miss Evangelista was still alive somewhere. Perhaps the skeleton was a decoy.

"I don't want to sound horrible, but couldn't we just... you know?" Proper Dave made a gesture to cut off the communication, but River frowned at him.

"This is her last moment... no, we can't. A little respect, thank you!"

'Sorry, where am I? Excuse me?'

"But is that really her, though?" Gabby Miss Evangelista.

"It's a data ghost, she'll be gone in a moment," River sighed and reached for her communicator again. "Miss Evangelista, you're fine, just relax. We'll be with you presently."

"What's a data ghost?" Gabby y turned to the Doctor and Renata for the answer. She got a feeling the first answer was all River would give her.

"There's a neural relay in the communicator, lets you send thought mails," the Doctor pointed to the blinking green lights on Miss Evangelista's spacesuit. "That's it there, those green lights. Sometimes it can hold an impression of a living consciousness for a short time after death. Like an after image."

"My grandfather lasted a day. Kept talking about his shoelaces," Anita said with her head hanging low.

'I can't see, I can't... Where am I?'

"She's just brain waves now. The pattern won't hold for long," Proper Dave said.

"She's conscious! She's thinking!" Donna argued.

'I can't see, I can't... I don't know what I'm thinking.'

"She's a footprint on the beach. And the tide's coming in," said the Doctor.

'Where's that woman? The nice woman... is she there?'

"What woman?" Lux looked around but as far as he knew, Miss Evangelista barely had friends.

"She means... I think, she means me," Donna realized after a few seconds. She'd only talked to the woman for a few minutes but...she was nice, probably nicer than the rest of the crew.

'Is she there? The nice woman?'

"Yeah, she's here, hang on," River turned to Donna. "Go ahead. She can hear you."

Donna fervently shook her head. "No!"

"Donna," the Doctor inched closer to the ginger. "Help her."

Donna felt like she was being asked the impossible. They wanted her to talk to the dead? That was too much. "She's dead!"

'Hello? Is that the nice woman?'

"Donna, she's fading," the Doctor tried again. "It's just for a few seconds. Help her."

Donna sighed. "Yeah, I guess... I'm here." She only took a few steps towards the skeleton. "You OK?"

'What I said before, about being stupid. Don't tell the others, they'll only laugh.'

Donna felt like shooting the crew a glare for how they made that poor woman feel all the time, but what would be the point? At least they have the decency to look ashamed of themselves. "Course I won't. Course I won't tell them."

'Don't tell the others, they'll only laugh…'

"I won't tell them. I said I won't," Donna promised her.

'Don't tell the others, they'll only laugh.'

"I'm not going to tell them."

'Don't tell the others, they'll only laugh.'

"She's looping now. The pattern's degrading," River said once Miss Evangelista started stuttering. Eventually, she had to shut the neural relay down.

"That was... that was horrible. That was the most horrible thing I've ever seen," Donna covered her face for a moment to calm herself down.

River was glaring daggers but at nothing in particular. "No. It's just a freak of technology. But whatever did this to her, whatever killed her... I'd like a word with that."

"I'll introduce you," the Doctor was on the same level of anger as River. He stormed out of the lecture room, leaving the others to follow, and returned to their room. "I'm gonna need a packed lunch."

"Hang on!" River exclaimed and went to retrieve her bag. She seemed to know exactly what he would like and that was simply shocking for Renata.

"So are we ever going to figure out who she is?" Gabby quietly made her question to Renata and Donna. The Doctor was working on his own but River seemed to linger around him in case he needed some assistance. "And how she knows the Doctor?"

"She's a time traveler, isn't it obvious?" Renata folded her arms over her chest. She couldn't help the irritation towards River, but what else could she feel? She hated to admit that she was jealous, like she had any sort of claim on the Doctor. The disgust towards herself might have raised in that moment.

"Ren?" Gabby touched her arm. "Hey, whatever you think...it's not."

Renata shook her head, smiling sourly. "It doesn't matter, Gabriella. I have...I have no right." She turned away, about to walk when she felt the warmth again only this time it sort of...hurt. She made a face and raised her hands, only to stop midway with a yelp. Something hard hit her stomach from the inside. "Ah!"

"Ren, you okay?" Donna heard the yelp along with Gabby.

"Y-yeah…" Renata tried her hardest to keep her next yelp inside. Her face strained to keep her mouth shut, but the fact she was wrapping her arm around her stomach gave her up.

"Renata!" Donna reached over and turned the Time Lady around, gasping when she saw how pale Renata had gone. She even felt a crazy heat from Renata's arm, through the Time Lady's coat, and backtracked.

Gabby had seen the whole thing and panicked. She thought the worst. "Doctor!"

Hearing her call made the Doctor whirl around. "What!? Gabby!" He then saw Renata's current state and bolted for them. "Out of the shadows! Out of the shadows!"

"No, no, there's no shadows," Renata found her voice, although she had to take several deep breaths to continue talking. "They're just being-"

"She looked like she was in pain and she's really warm, Doctor," Donna told him, her voice going right over Renata's tone. "Is it a fever? Can Time Ladies get fevers?"

"I do not have a fever!" Renata shouted, far louder than she had intended to.

The Doctor planted a hand over her forehead - making her lean back a few inches - and immediately felt the heat Donna was talking about. "That is-"

Renata swatted his hand away from her and glared at Gabby and Donna. "I'm fine, stop being over dramatic." The pain had subsided like it never even happened.

"Yes, please," River may not have been right next to them but her sharp voice was enough to pull the group apart.

Renata didn't know whether to be mad with River for her attitude or to thank the woman for cutting them off. She touched the Doctor's arm and offered him a soft smile. "I'm really okay," she said in a whisper, but the Doctor wasn't very convinced.

He stepped closer to her, leaving barely enough space between them. There was nothing but concern in his eyes for her. "We talked about this," he reminded her. "We need to be very cautious about your health…"

He hated to admit that her health was declining, not noticeably but steadily. He'd done new exams after visiting King Henry and was startled to see that the energy was further mutating inside her. There was no clear reading that could tell the Doctor why it was happening and much less what it was becoming. But it was interrupting her daily life, he could see it. There were moments were Renata got tired easily without doing anything in the first place. Then there was the strange heat flashes, warmth that came directly from the energy levels spiking. And the gold flicker in her eyes...that's what truly let him see that there was something inside Renata. It scared him to the bone what was lurking through her insides, hurting her...

Renata cupped his face, offering him her best smile. She was doing what she did best: hiding her feelings. "I'm okay Doctor. Really. Don't worry about me." He looked at her for a long while then, as if he was about to leave, but instead he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead again. She was really hot. "Vashta Nerada," she reminded him. "It will kill everyone in this room. Don't stop for me."

The Doctor hated to leave her, but she was right. Vashta Nerada would kill all of them if they didn't get out and what good would he be to Renata if they were all dead? With a sigh, he nodded his head. "Donna, Gabby, you keep an eye on her alright?" he looked directly at the women, expression close to dark with a warning. They were not to leave Renata's side.

River watched the Doctor return to his work across the room and waited a few minutes before making her own way up to Donna, Gabby and Renata. "You're Donna?" she stopped in front of the ginger. There was a glint of fascination in her eyes, but Donna also swore she saw...pity? Was that right?

"Yeah, yeah, I am," Donna nodded. "But it's not like you asked us who we are, right?" her gesture at Gabby and Renata flew over River's head. "Something you want to say?"

"No, uh, well actually yeah…" River paused for a second, glancing at the Doctor with a soft smile on her face. "Thank you." Donna blinked, not expecting for River to say that out of all things. "Thanks."

"Come again?"

River returned her attention to Donna but her eyes flickered to Renata still preoccupied with her hands. "What's wrong with you?"

Renata blinked up from her hands and frowned. "Excuse me?"

"We are in danger and you're distracting the Doctor with something, no doubt, dramatic."

Renata was stunned at the woman's brashness. "I-I don't intend to-"

River scoffed. "Sure. Listen, if you don't mind, we'd sort of like to get out of here alive and you being dramatic is not going to help anyone."

"I wasn't!" Renata exclaimed. She balled her fists once the warmth reflourished under her skin. She really shouldn't be arguing with anyone right now. "Look, River, I don't...I don't know why you're so upset with me but it shouldn't be a priority right now, don't you think? It's like you said, we need to get out of here alive."

River visibly tensed up. Renata always did that. River despised the annoying talent Renata had to always rearrange things so that she came out looking right while the other person, usually River, came out looking like the bad person. Even now, she still had the stupid talent and it was infuriating. She had said they needed to get out first but somehow Renata repeated the same thing and now both Gabby and Donna were looking at River with disapproval.

Renata was a master at reading faces. She had to be in order to know how to best please them. Her family taught her how to do it and how to always pick up on the right quirks. Right now, she could easily tell that she'd just further irritated River...but she wasn't sure why. She could barely argue, she couldn't move around a lot...what could she have done?

"I'm sorry," she felt compelled to say but even that was wrong.

"Oh, of course," River seemed to be expecting that...and she was. At one point or another, it almost always came up. Apologizing. That always made Renata look better in front of people, in front of the Doctor. "Save it, he's not watching!"

"I didn't mean to-"

"Stop it!" River snapped, getting more frustrated with each of Renata's attempts.

"You know what-" Gabby suddenly yanked Renata back, leaving the poor Time Lady to stumble backwards for Donna to catch, "-you need to back off!" She got right in River's face and since Gabby was smaller, she had to be on her tippy-toes. "Ren's not doing anything! You want to save people? Then go do it! Why are you being so mean? In case you haven't noticed, none of us-" she gestured to Renata, Donna and herself, "-know you! That means whatever you're mad about, we haven't even done yet. That makes you an extra type of prick."

"Gabriella, stop it!" Renata hissed and pulled the girl back, never having seen Gabby so worked up and much less having a stand off with anyone. She never wanted to see that even if it was on her behalf. "We are not going to waste time with silly arguments. I won't have it."

"It's funny, Gabby, you're so young. Nothing's happened to you but even now, you're still just like her," River's eyes flickered to Renata for show. Her previous hardness faded into strain. She wanted to appear brave, to be strong in front of those two women who were known to be strong. She was brave and strong and clever. She was really clever and she wasn't going to let some early baby versions of Renata and Gabby make her doubt that.

"Then that means I'm going to become a really good person," Gabby said confidently and glanced at Renata with a warm smile.

Renata blinked tears away. Her hearts warmed for a second with Gabby's utmost belief in her words. Gabby really thought that being like her would make her a better person.

"OK, we've got a live one!" the Doctor suddenly called, completely in the dark about the side conversation (or argument) that'd been going on. He was circling a shadow on the floor, careful not to step on it. "That's darkness down those tunnels, this is not a shadow. It's a swarm. A man-eating swarm." He used one of the chicken legs from River's lunch as bait for proof. He chucked it into the shadow and it was devoured before even hitting the ground. It left the entire group horrified. "The piranhas of the air, the Vashta Nerada. Literally 'the shadows that melt the flesh'. Most planets have them, but usually in small clusters. I've never seen an infestation on this scale, or this aggressive."

"What d'you mean, most planets? Not Earth?" Donna, along with Gabby, had an inkling feeling that it wasn't the case.

"Mmmm, Earth, and a billion other worlds. Where there's meat, there's Vashta Nerada. You can see them sometimes, if you look. The dust in sunbeams."

"Doctor, not to question your expertise but…I think we would've noticed if we had killer shadows on Earth," Gabby said, but her nervous smile faded with his long stare.

"Normally they live on roadkill. But sometimes people go missing. Not everyone comes back out of the dark."

"That's a lovely way to put it," Renata warned him with one of her own looks not to go into further detail. It was a fearsome idea that Gabby, nor Donna, were ready for.

"Every shadow?" River asked him, half curious for the real answer but the other half of her wanting to end such dramatics again.

"No. But any shadow."

"So what do we do?"

"Daleks - aim for the eyestalk. Sontarans - back of the neck. Vashta Nerada... Run! Just run."

"Run? Run where?"

"This is an index point. There must be an exit teleport somewhere," the Doctor searched the room rather urgently but settled for anything Lux could offer. The building was his after all.

"Don't look at me, I haven't memorized the schematics!" the man barked.

"You know," Renata stepped up beside River, "You can hate me all you want, but the one thing we can agree on is that he-" she nodded towards Lux, "-is no help at all."

"Mm," River hated to agree but she was right.

"Doctor, the little shop!" Donna had spotted a smaller room at the other end of the room. "They always make you go through the little shop on the way out so they can sell you stuff!"

"You're right! Brilliant! That's why I like the little shop!" the Doctor beamed.

"OK, let's move it!" Proper Dave exclaimed, ready to head out when the Doctor shouted for him to stop.

"Actually, Proper Dave, could you stay where you are for a moment?"

"Why?"

"I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry. But you've got two shadows."

Everyone's gazes immediately fell to the double shadows below Proper Dave. It definitely kept the man still.

"It's how they hunt, they latch on to a food source and keep it fresh," the Doctor muttered.

"What do I do?"

"You stay absolutely still. Like there's a wasp in the room, like there's a million wasps," the Doctor was very careful how he moved around the room. If the shadows were moving then any one of them could be next.

"We're not leaving you, Dave," River promised the terrified man.

"Course we're not leaving," agreed the Doctor. "Where's your helmet? Don't point, just tell me."

"On the floor, by my bag."

Anita retrieved the helmet for them and handed it to the Doctor. "Thanks. Now, the rest of you, helmets back on and sealed up. We'll need everything we've got."

"I would like to point out that we do not have helmets," Gabby cleared her throat to say.

"Yeah, but we're safe anyway," the Doctor said dismissively.

Gabby exchanged looks with Donna, both being confused by that statement. "How are we safe?" Donna asked him.

"We're not, that was a clever lie to shut you up!"

"Well, rude," Renata crossed her arms. "But he's not wrong so Gabby, Donna just...just stay with me alright?" The two women in question nodded.

"Professor, anything I can do with the suit?" the Doctor turned to River for help.

"We can increase the mesh-density, dial it up 400%. Make it a tougher meal!"

"Okay!" the Doctor pulled his sonic out and used it on Proper Dave's spacesuit. "800%! Pass it on!" he was about to hand River the sonic when she revealed her own...a rather familiar one though.

Renata nearly keeled over when she saw it. The Doctor was frozen in his spot while River went around the crew to sonic their suits.

Renata moved past Gabby and Donna to get closer, coming to a stop beside the Doctor just as River returned. "That's my screwdriver," Renata blinked.

"No, it's not," River said with a deep scowl.

"Yes, it is," Renata was sure of it. "It's my sonic screwdriver - fancier, but it is." And before River could deny it again, Renata pulled hers out as well. Both sonic screwdrivers were embedded with the same gold and white shades. River's gold was stronger and the tip seemed to be more high tech, but all in all it was the same sonic screwdriver.

River seemed just as stunned as Renata now. "How did…" her eyes flickered to the Doctor, accusing, "That was a cheap trick!"

"What?" he frowned, having no idea what she was going on about.

"You told me you made this!"

"He probably did," Renata murmured sadly. So much for being special.

The Doctor didn't know what was worse: seeing Renata's disappointed face, or seeing River's furious face. He himself was just...so confused. Why would he make a sonic screwdriver for River? He didn't go around making them just for anyone - by that logic, he should've made one for Gabby and Donna, or even Martha! How important could River be? And more to the point, why would he make one using the same schematics he used for Renata's?

Renata put her sonic away and sighed. "It's mine," she assured River. "But before you throw it away, if the Doctor gave it to you, it's because you would need it. Think about that, please."

Of course River was thinking about it. How stupid did Renata think she was? The Doctor never did anything without a good reason. She curled her hand around the sonic, gripping it tightly. She should've known better than to fully trust that he made the sonic all on his own. Renata would never let a project like that be done without her knowledge.

"Fine," River muttered and went on her way.

"Ren..." the Doctor tried touching her but she stepped away from him, an action that actually hurt. If she was stepping away then she didn't want to be near him and much less want him to touch her. And as of late, he discovered that he really liked to touch her. Hold hands, be close...

Renata yelped in surprise when the Doctor gently brought her from her side to his front. Her free hand had come to rest over his chest and her other hand seemed locked under the Doctor's free hand.

"You had fun?" the Doctor asked quietly though with his ragged breathing it came out a little louder than intended. They were both still trying to catch their breaths, they could feel it. Renata felt the Doctor's chest heaving up and down under her hand and since Renata's chest was pressed to his, the Doctor could feel her own heavy breathing.

The Doctor felt his breath leave him. What he would give to relive that moment again and not this one.

"We need to get them out of here," Renata's quiet voice pulled the Doctor out of his thoughts, missing the blush that crept over his face. He followed her gaze over to Gabby and Donna and realized she wanted to transport them back to the TARDIS. Neither of them knew what would happen with the Vashta Nerada around.

"You're right," he agreed. "Donna! Gabby! With us!" he made the motion as he and Renata led them towards the gift shop Donna pointed out earlier.

"What are we doing, we're shopping? Is it a good time to shop?" Donna understood his brain worked far differently than theirs but this one had to be a bad idea.

"That sonic...why was it like yours?" Gabby stopped to ask Renata that. She knew exactly that it was Renata's because she'd been there when the Doctor had made it. Granted she didn't know half the things that went into the sonic but the idea was the same.

"I don't know," Renata put on her best smile as she ushered Gabby onto the small platform of the gift shop. "Just stand still, okay?"

"Donna, you too," the Doctor tried to hide his grimness as he brought Donna over to Gabby's side.

"What is this?" Gabby looked down to the ground. There were odd circular patterns on it.

"It's a teleport. Stand in the middle. Can't send the others, TARDIS won't recognize them."

"Wait, what are you doing?" Donna started to look around more frantically.

"It's like Gabby said: you don't have suits, you're not safe!"

Gabby seemed to be closer to realizing what he was going to do. "Neither do you!" she exclaimed. "You and Renata are in as much danger as we are!"

"Thing is Gabriella, you haven't lived and you have no business being in this kind of danger. You and Donna are our number one priority right now," Renata smiled kindly then looked at the Doctor, giving him the nod to activate the teleport.

Donna's eyes widened. "Doctor, don't-"

But the teleport activated and pulled them out.

"You know, Renée-"

Renata raised a hand to stop the Doctor from even finishing his sentence. "Don't. I'm not going anywhere. I made that mistake once, I'm not doing it again."

The Doctor paused to give her a strange look, of course puzzled about her words. What could she have meant?

"Doctor!" River called from the other room.

The two hurried back and went straight to Proper Dave. They saw that he'd lost one shadow.

"Where did it go?" the Doctor quickly searched the immediate area. He pulled Renata's arm to bring her to his side. For the time being, that was the only area safe enough to stand.

"It's just gone. I... I looked round, one shadow," Proper Dave said

"Does that mean we can leave?" River urgently asked, ready to make a run for it. "I don't want to hang around here."

"I don't know why we're still here," huffed Lux. "We can leave him, can't we? I mean, no offence…"

"Seriously?" Renata glanced at River, gesturing at the man to prove he was still the only thing that could agree on.

"Yeah, fine!" River exclaimed. "Mr. Lux, shut up!"

"Did you feel anything?" the Doctor preferred to focus his attention on Proper Dave. The Vashta Nerada leaving him it made absolutely no sense, which made him drunk this was all a trick that would end with their lives. "Like an energy transfer? Anything at all?"

"No, no, but, look, it's, it's gone!"

"Stop there, stop, stop, stop there, stop moving! They're never just gone. And they never give up!" the Doctor sonicked the only shadow Proper Dave had. "Well, this one's benign."

"Hey, who turned out the lights?"

"No-one, they're fine."

"No, seriously, turn them back on!"

River was clearly confused but she wasn't the only one. None of them understood what was going on. "They are��on."

"I can't see a ruddy thing!"

The Doctor straightened on his feet, expression even more dark than earlier. He had an idea of what was happening. "Dave, turn round."

Proper Dave turned back to the group but his face was completely in the dark. It looked like his helmet had it's visor tint back on.

"What's going on? Why can't I see?" Proper Dave helplessly asked. "Is the power gone, are we safe here?"

Renata swallowed hard. She liked to be realistic and seeing this… indicated what was about to happen.

"Dave, I want you to stay still, absolutely still," the Doctor warned but he caught the light stiffen that Dave suddenly did. "Dave, Dave? Dave, can you hear me, are you all right? Talk to me, Dave."

"I'm fine, I'm OK, I'm... I'm fine."

"I want you to stay still, absolutely still."

"No, Doctor…" Renata slowly walked up behind him, pressing a hand to his shoulder. He barely looked to her when Proper Dave started stuttering the same few words over and over.

The lights on his communicator were blinking, just like Miss Evangelista's was earlier too.

"He's gone. He's ghosting," River lowered her head with a sigh.

"Then why is he still standing?" Lux retracted a step for good measure.

"Hey! Who turned out the lights? Hey! Who turned out the lights?"

The Doctor attempted to move closer to Proper Dave but Renata gripped his arm. "Please don't," she whispered. Behind her, River pursed her lips together. She'd been about to say the same thing to him.

"Dave, can you hear me?" the Doctor he gently removed Renata's hand from his arm, his expression promising her that he would be careful.

"Hey! Who turned out the lights?" Proper Dave seized the Doctor's neck and gripped it with incredible force.

"Doctor!" Renata exclaimed.

Proper Dave's helmet was finally lit and it allowed for the others to see what was left of him: a skeleton. "Who turned out the lights? Hey! Who turned out the lights?"

"Excuse me!" River shoved Renata to the side and used her upgraded sonic on the skeleton. However, instead of the usual flashy lights like previous screwdrivers...this one released a particular interesting type of energy.

A swarm of golden butterflies emanated from the tip of the screwdriver and raced towards the skeleton. It was enough to force the skeleton to release the Doctor. The Time Lord coughed as the air returned to his lungs.

"Back from it, get back, right back!"

"Butterflies!?" River seemed even more outraged with her sonic than earlier when she discovered it was from Renata's schematics. "Are you kidding me!?"

"Those are my...my butterflies," Renata whispered in horror. She looked down at our own hands, remembering when the same golden butterflies that had surrounded her at Zhe's gallery.

"I hate butterflies," River gritted her teeth together.

"Let's go!" the Doctor yanked River back since she was too preoccupied with her screwdriver to notice Proper Dave getting closer to her.

"Doesn't move very fast does it?" Lux inquired about the skeleton's awkward manner of walking.

"It's a swarm in a suit. But it's learning," the Doctor said.

"Not very promising," Renata said then and not a moment later saw several shadows reaching out from proper Dave's body. They were coming for them. "As is that…" her voice shook with terrible fear.

"What do we do? Where do we go?" Lux frantically asked.

"See that wall behind you?" River turned around to face the group. "Duck!" those in question docked as she blasted a hole in the wall with a particular type of weapon.

"Squareness gun!" the Doctor laughed at their luck, but River focused on getting them all out of there first. They made a run down an aisle that was far too dark for their liking.

"You said not every shadow, right?" Renata's head wouldn't stop turning from one side to the other thinking that the next shadow they would come across would be Vashta Nerada.

"Right, but any shadow!"

"Hey! Who turned out the lights?" Proper Dave - or the Vashta Nerada - was following them and quicker now.

"And GO!" the Doctor yelled at the group who needed no other command to pick up their pace. The Doctor took Renata's hand and yanked her forwards, but even as they ran he could once again feel the insane heat from her skin. And when he happened to side-glance her, he was shocked to see how pale and weary she was.

As soon as they could find a refuge, the group sealed the door of the new room as best as they could with what they had. The Doctor left Renata somewhere she could rest, after sure there were enough shadows but her own, then hurried to the nearest lamp to get more light. River neared him a few seconds later.

"Trying to boost the power. Light doesn't stop them, but it slows them down," he said during a struggle with his sonic. There was light but a weak one.

"So, what's the plan? Do we have a plan?" Seeing his struggle, River used her own sonic to strengthen the light.

The Doctor eyed the golden white sonic. "Your screwdriver...it looks exactly like the one I made Renata."

Remembering that made River frown. "Yeah, I know. You tricked me."

"I did?"

"You said you made it but you never told me it was the same basic idea you used for Renata's first one."

"First one?"

River exhaled. "Sorry, spoilers. I just…I can't stand when you trick me like that, alright? You know I trust you with everything I have and…"

"Who are you?" the Doctor got tired of asking and never getting the answer. "I don't get it. I would never give a sonic screwdriver to anyone-"

"That isn't Renée, I know," River mimicked his tone then rolled her eyes. "That's why I can't believe I fell for it."

The Doctor inwardly sighed. His eyes flickered to Renata who seemed to be getting back on her feet, but still seemed very weary. "What's wrong with her?"

River briefly expressed confusion but she followed his gaze towards Renata. The Time Lady was once again studying her hands.

"How can I help her?"

River still didn't understand the question, much less the gravity of it, until she realized where in the timeline they were. "She's ill." She turned back to the Doctor. "This is when she's ill because...because she's been infected."

The Doctor winced at the word. Infection. How could he have let that happen? "I wasn't careful and she got hurt."

"No," River said sharply. "It wasn't your fault. She should've been more careful. Not everything that happens to her is on you, Doctor. Sometimes it's her own fault."

"How could you say that?" the Doctor frowned at her. "She didn't ask to be infected. She's innocent."

River almost laughed. "Ha! Renata is anything but innocent. Good people don't lead you on, Doctor. You know she's keeping a secret from you, right?"

"You're not supposed to tell me anything-"

"I know but I can't stand it! You always think that she's such a sweet, innocent woman but you never remember how you two started out: with lies. She's been lying to you, Doctor. Future you can be mad at me he wants but I know that I am right. I've always been right. But you…" she sighed as if she'd been tired for centuries now, "You have always been blind when it comes to her." That was her sad reality, a reality she'd tried to accept now that everything had passed...had been done...but it still made her angry just as the first time she learned everything.

"I don't believe that," the Doctor said quietly, though River wanted to believe she saw a flash of curiosity on his face. "So you're not going to tell me how to help her, then?"

"I don't know," River answered honestly. "I know about her getting sick but I don't know how she became...what she is later on." The Doctor narrowed his eyes on her, willing her to speak the truth. "I really don't!"

With a sigh, he turned away from her. He came to Renata and, without even asking, pressed his hand to her forehead. "You're still burning hot…"

"Maybe Donna was right, I am running a fever," Renata said with a weary smile.

Remembering their companions, the Doctor checked his sonic to make sure they were safe and sound in the TARDIS. His stomach churned when he saw that it wasn't the case. "They're not in the TARDIS."

"What?" Renata saw his horrified face.

"They're not there. I should've received a signal, the console signals me if there's a teleport breach."

"Well if they're not there, then where are they?" Renata leaned away from the table she was supporting herself on.

The Doctor had no idea. And that scared him. He ran to the nearest Node available to get some answers. "Donna Noble, Gabby Gonzalez. They're somewhere in this Library. Do you have the software to locate their position?"

The Node turned its head to the two, horrifying them with Donna's face planted right on it. "Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have left the Library. Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have been saved."

Renata nearly fell backwards if the Doctor hadn't latched a hand to her arm.

"Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have left the Library. Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have been saved."

"But how can it be Donna? How's that possible?" River came rushing up behind them.

"G-Gabby…" Renata knew very well that wherever Donna was, so was Gabby. "Oh my God, where are they!?"

"Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have left the Library. Donna Noble and Gabby Gonzalez have been saved."

"Hey! Who turned out the lights?" Proper Dave appeared in the aisle, ready to chase them again, but neither the Doctor not Renata had the energy to keep going when they had no idea if their friends were even alive.

"We have to go!" River called to the others. "Doctor, we've got to go, now!"

"But where are they!?" Renata shouted at the Node. "Where are Donna and Gabby!? Where are they!? Where…" she felt her chest burning with her yelling, or perhaps for something else, and leaned over.

"Renée!" the Doctor meant to help her but River yanked him back.

"We need to go!" she shouted, but his voice roared over hers.

"I'M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT HER!"

Renata coughed horrifically, as if she were about to throw up. Her upper body was leaning down, hands on her knees, as she tried to catch a literal breath. She could feel the outrageous heat trying to burst from her again but she didn't know how to let it go.

"Renata, look at me!" the Doctor frantically tried to straightening her so he could see her face, but she shook her head and kept coughing.

"Doctor!" River called again. "It's coming!"

Proper Dave was dangerously close to them.

Renata coughed particularly hard one moment and widened her eyes when she saw a wisp of golden energy slipping between her lips. The first thing that popped into her mind was regeneration.

The Doctor saw it as well and gaped. "What the-"

River had angrily come for them both and grabbed them by the collars of their shirts. "We have to GO!" She was not going to let one die because the other was being dramatic. Tale as old as time!

#doctor who #10th doctor #ocappreciation #ocapp #10th doctor fics #doctor who fics #dw fics #dw imagines #10th doctor imagines #oc: Renata Cartwright #gabby gonzalez #donna noble #fic: the beginning of everything

17 notes · View notes

silvysartfulness · 4 years ago

Note

10, 14, 19, 41, 44!

Ahh, thank you very much for the Ask! :D

10. Is there a fandom you read fic from but don’t write in?

Actually, I haven't really read fanfic in a very, very long time? I do love fanfic, I just haven't been invested enough in any fandom to gather spoons enough to read fiction in a long time. I've mostly lived in my own original storyverse Pangaea for the past three years or so.

I think the last fandom I actually read some fic for was the MCU in the early days of the first Avengers movie? I was relatively into frostiron for a while and helped my wife beta her fics Spiting The Sun and Do Ut Des, as well as reading some other fics I unfortunately can't recall the names of.

14. Go on, who are your BroTPs?

I love Wei Wuxian's and Wen Qing's dynamic! It's so so so rare to see a male-female friendship that isn't romance coded.

Literal bros with amazing dynamic would be Wei Wuxian and Jiang Chen, because who needs their heart anyway.

19. Is there a ship which you wished you could get behind, but you just don’t feel them?

Several, but it's a lot more to do with brain fatigue than aversion to the ships themselves!

I wish I had the energy and focus to read more XiYao, I really do love their chemistry a lot. (I may be on a slippery slope there, we'll see. Maybe I'll point back to this post in another month and laugh hollowly and say ”ahaha, guess I should have seen that obsession coming”. Or not. Who can tell? Not me. I just work here.)

I also... both kind of love and hate SongXiao? Like, I love their dynamic, but there seems to be a very black and white (ba-dum-tsh) view that they're the acceptable pure cinnamon pairing in opposition to the problematic clusterfuck that is XueXiao - and since I'm very much into XueXiao, I daren't look too deeply into SongXiao since there's almost always a very negative vibe regarding Xue Yang and Yi City there. But as two parts of the SongXueXiao disaster that I love, I definitely like them a ton.

SangChen? Is that the shipping name? One of those I can see would be fun, but am just not really feeling it.

To be honest though? I'm a thot for good writing and characterization and if something good enough pops under my nose, I'm very willing to give it a shot, no matter the pairing.

41. List and link to 5 fanfics you are currently reading:

I'm still very new in this fandom (hard to believe it's only been a bit more than a month since I jumped in!) and with my brain getting easily overworked, I actually haven't read all that much?

But let's see if I can scrape together 5 fics I read or have read!

1. Chopping Block. This has got to be one of my fave (Song?)XueXiao fics. The way the characters are handled is beautiful, and there have been several of those gut-punch ”oh.” moments where the hurt is so, so good. (The ”his hands get cold” scene, man. MAN.)

2. Red Azalea. This is another utterly charming (Song?)XueXiao fic, a delightful capricious post-Yi-City dance that will also deliver the occasional devastating emotional backhand.

3. My Erstwhile Dear. Aka the fic that decisively picked up my heart and rubbed it face-down into XiYao to the point I'm even on that slippery slope to start with. I find myself thinking about this fic a lot. Like. I probably get distracted thinking about it on an almost daily basis, hoping it'll update. The format of written letters delivers the hurt in such an elegant way, you just gasp for breath.

4. Rewritten. Found this because you rec'ed it! One of the very few modern au's on my list (nothing against modern au’s as such, just not my favourite trope, especially for this show) and damn. Hngh. One of the best openly SongXueXiao fics I've read. The character dynamics, the characterization, the whirl of the timeline layout and the background plot slowly creeping into view... Fucking masterpiece.

5. I'm not being creepy, I promise, but pretty much anything you've written for this fandom? Like, that is literally the last thing in my open fic tabs? Picking one single one is super-hard, but This Place Could Be Beautiful is the one I have bookmarked to browse your stuff, it actually had me literally tearing up reading it, and that's a very good thing? Lick Your Exit Wounds is another one I've re-read several times. Exposure Therapy for some good lighthearted fun (which, still, had me literally tearing up at the part where WWX just so quietly and resignedly asks if he's done something wrong, damn you) And tbh? I. Cannot. Wait. for the fucked up SongXue roadtrip. I cannot. Like. Its state of non-existence torments me. Torments me.

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

All mine, of course. (insert ”those pairings were mine, those other OTPs were other people's”-joke here.) Seriously, I'd love for more well written, messy SongXueXiao. XueXiao is also very, very good. And since it seems I at least glance in its direction these days, why not, more XiYao.

And honestly? I have the largest soft spot for any interaction between Wei Wuxian and Xue Yang. Whether sexy or just snarking off doesn't matter (doing both is a bonus).

They are such absolute parallels, the sassy street kids who climbed their way up and through convergent evolution became founders and inventors in a whole new area of cultivation. Never really fitting in - but unlike, for example, Jin Guangyao, who lives and breathes propriety and etiquette to get to own be part of that society, they both just give the cultivation world a big middle finger and walk their respective single plank bridges into the dark. If not for their opposite stances when it comes to caring about other people, they could have been something amazing together. (The whole ”I suffered so I will make sure no-one else will” vs ”I suffered so why shouldn't they?” approach in action there.)

I’m very weak for this, okay, and my brain often tells me delightful stories where they just snark endlessly at each other and it’s beautiful.

#untamed artfulness #thank you so much!#i could flail about these disasters all day #veliseraptor

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ewokthrowdown · 5 years ago

Text

Prompt number: 15 - “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Fandom fanfiction: Yuri!!! on Ice

Warnings, pairings: None, Victuuri

It was official. Yuuri and Phichit’s landlord was a dick.

“Right in the middle of the holidays and he puts the rent up!” Phichit was saying for the millionth time.

They were lugging boxes of their stuff into their new flat, just four days before Christmas. As though they didn’t have enough to do, what with the holiday work their tutors had set them, the various festive parties, and shopping for presents for their friends who celebrated Christmas. It wasn’t a big thing for either of them, but their friend Leo loved Christmas and it seemed rude when he always got them a little something. So it had become a tradition that their group all exchanged gifts, which meant they had to get four gifts for each of their group of friends, consisting of three other students; Leo, Guang Hong, Seung-Gil and of course Phichit and Yuuri.

“I know it sucks,” Yuuri agreed. “There’s just a two more boxes downstairs then we’re done though.”

“Okay, I’m just gonna get something to drink,” Phichit said, wiping his forehead and digging through the box marked ‘Kitchen’ for a glass.

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed, before telling Vicchan, his toy poodle, who seemed to want to be wherever Yuuri was, to stay.

Vicchan sat with a little huff and Yuuri headed back out into the hallway on his own, going over to the lift to push the button. Usually he’d use the stairs as a good way to stay fit, but with all the up and down they were doing that would get old pretty quickly.

Back down in the lobby Yuuri lifted another box. It was heavy, full of both textbooks and works of fiction. Well at least it was a good arm workout.

“Hey, new to the building?”

The voice came from behind him, and Yuuri turned to see the most beautiful human being he’d ever laid eyes on. He almost dropped the box.

The man was tall and slim, with a shoulder to waist ratio that looked like it was moulded by the fitness gods themselves. He had a sweep of silver hair, short but with a fringe. His skin was smooth and pale as marble, a jawline and cheekbones that could have cut diamonds. And his eyes... Yuuri thought he’d never seen eyes so blue.

Rather than a witty, interesting reply, what came out of Yuuri’s mouth was “mn-wha?” which he wasn’t sure was even a word. His cheeks were on fire, and if his hands were free he would’ve face-palmed.

The man grinned, apparently aware of his effect, and gestured to the remaining box.

“Can I help carry that up?”

“You don’t have to,” Yuuri managed to say, which was an actual sentence at least.

“It’s no bother,” the man said. “I was going to go to the gym anyway, so this is just like a pre-gym warm up.”

Of course he was on his way to the gym, Yuuri thought. You didn’t get a body like that without some serious work.

“Oh, well, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.”

“None at all.”

The man came forward and took the box with Phichit’s books in it. Yuuri’s own arms were starting to ache, but he was determined to keep hold of the box.

“I’m Victor by the way,” the man said once he’d lifted the box. “I live in flat thirteen.”

“Oh, we're on the same corridor then,” Yuuri said, carrying the box over to the lift and nudging the button with his wrist. “I’m Yuuri.”

“Well hey new-neighbour-Yuuri.”

God Victor’s smile was cute.

The lift pinged and they got in together.

“So do you work nearby?” Yuuri asked, trying to do a better job of conversing since his disastrous beginning.

“I actually work from home,” Victor said, his smile easy and charming. “I’m a photographer.”

“Oh cool, you should meet my roommate, he loves photography.”

“We’ll have to compare cameras. So what do you do?”

“I’m a student,” Yuuri said, glancing at the numbers as they climbed. He was very aware of how close they were standing in the little lift. “I study dance.”

“Oh so that explains it,” Victor said, eyes dragging up and down Yuuri’s body in a not at all subtle manner.

“Explains what?” Yuuri asked, butterflies dancing in his stomach.

“The fact that you’ve got the body of a dancer.”

Yuuri’s cheeks flushed even darker than they already were and he spluttered. Victor smirked.

“Do you like dogs?” Victor asked then, which was an odd segue.

“Um, yes,” Yuuri said, blinking in surprise as the lift doors opened. “I have a toy poodle.”

“You do?” Victor asked, his face lighting up. “But I have a poodle! She’s a standard so probably bigger, but what a coincidence!”

Suddenly Victor didn’t seem nearly as intimidating. In fact from the way he was bouncing along next to Yuuri down the hall he seemed quite dorky. It made him, if possible, even cuter.

“Well maybe our dogs can be friends,” Yuuri said, then realised what he’d said and flushed bright red. He’d basically asked Victor on a doggie playdate.

“I think Makkachin would like that very much,” Victor said, grinning at Yuuri as they reached his door and ducked inside.

Phichit was there, apparently bored with hauling boxes and now arranging their potted plants. Yuuri rolled his eyes. True, Victor had carried up the one Phichit would’ve needed to get, but Phichit didn’t know that.

“We’ve got the last boxes,” Yuuri said as he came in and bent to place the box down in the middle of the lounge.

Vicchan bounced over to lick his face, then went to jump up at the new person.

“They’re all up?” Phichit asked, turning to look at them and his eyes widening at the sight of Victor. “That’s what I’m talking about! Good job. And you might be?”

“Victor,” Victor said, stooping to pet Vicchan and cooing at him. “And you must be Yuuri’s roommate and Yuuri’s very cute dog, hello gorgeous, who’s a good boy? You are, yes indeed.”

Yuuri grinned at the sight of Victor fussing over Vicchan, who lapped it all up. Then Victor straightened and offered a hand to Phichit.

“Phichit Chulanont, at your very sexy service,” Phichit said, winking as he shook the offered hand. Victor laughed. Yuuri wanted to die.

“Yes well,” Yuuri interrupted. “It was very nice of Victor to help out.”

“It sure was,” Phichit agreed. “Would you like to stay for a cup of tea to say thank you?”

“I was actually on my way to the gym,” Victor said, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb.

“I bet you were,” Phichit said, dragging his eyes up and down Victor’s body as Victor had just done to Yuuri. Yuuri elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Maybe some other time,” Victor said, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. “It was nice to meet you. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

Though it seemed as though he was talking to both of them, his eyes were very firmly fixed on Yuuri.

“Sure,” Yuuri agreed, blushing, which seemed to be his constant state at the moment.

“Alright, see you,” Victor said, and with one final pet to Vicchan he headed out.

As soon as the door closed behind him Phichit punched Yuuri in the arm.

“Our hot neighbour wants to bang you!”

“Shut up! No he doesn’t.”

“Oh so those fuck me eyes he gave you at the end there were all in my head?”

“Well you do have a pretty overactive imagination.”

“Yuuri,” Phichit sighed, as Yuuri went to start unpacking their kitchen stuff. “Just because I was the one who told you about ninety percent of the students at uni are crushing on you does not mean I have an overactive imagination.”

“There’s literally not enough girls and gay guys to make up that percentage.”

“That’s how powerful you are, my man.”

Yuuri threw a tea towel in Phichit’s face.

~~~~~~~

“I’m home!”

Phichit’s voice rang through from the front hall to where Yuuri was in the kitchen, carefully pulling out a tray of cookies from the oven.

“Okaerinasai!”

“What smells so good?” Phichit asked as he stepped into their kitchen.

It was a day later and they’d pretty much done with unpacking, deciding to just get on with it and knock it out in one day.

“I’m baking cookies for Victor to say thank you,” Yuuri explained, nudging Vicchan out of the way where he was dancing around Yuuri’s feet, hoping for a dropped cookie.

“For carrying one box upstairs?” Phichit asked, coming over and hopping up to sit on the counter.

“Well it was a heavy box…”

“You’re whipped.”

“I believe you have to be in a relationship to be whipped.”

“Semantics.”

Yuuri ignored this and went to open up the cake tin for the cookies to go in once they were cool. He figured if he gave the cookies to Victor in a tin of theirs then Victor would have to return the tin and Yuuri would have an excuse to see him again. It was the perfect plan.

Yuuri put a timer on his phone for the cookies to cool, then went and played a little Super Smash Bros with Phichit before it went off. He put the cookies in the tin and tugged on his shoes.

“Good luck getting the booty,” Phichit called from the couch as Yuuri passed.

Yuuri gave him the finger.

Moments later he was stood outside of flat thirteen, hesitating. Before he could overthink his decision he knocked.

“Coming!” Victor’s voice called from inside and Yuuri felt his stomach clench in anticipation and nerves.

Moments later the lock clicked and the door swung open. Yuuri dropped the cookies.

Victor was in a towel, just a towel. He’d clearly just got out of the shower, his perfectly chiselled torso still a little wet, drops of water rolling over perfectly cut abs. Yuuri’s brain entirely short circuited. He felt like he’d been smacked over the head with a battering ram and all he could do was blink at Victor.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked, eyeing him with some concern. “Are you okay?”

“Guh.”

Yuuri wanted to die. He managed to pull himself back together enough and firmly looked anywhere but at Victor, his eyes fixed on the floor as he swooped to pick up the tin of cookies and held them out.

“I made you cookies to say thank you for helping with the box,” Yuuri explained, his cheeks hot enough to bake another batch. “They’re chocolate chip.”

“Oh!” Victor exclaimed, reaching out and taking the tin. “That’s so sweet of you! You really didn’t have to…”

“It’s okay,” Yuuri said, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor. “Well… bye.”

Then Yuuri fled.

Phichit laughed at him for a solid fifteen minutes when he managed to get the story out of Yuuri, who was still lying facedown on the floor of their lounge an hour later. Vicchan stood on his back in what was clearly an attempt to help.

~~~~~~~

Yuuri looked up from where he was stretched into a split at the sound of a knock on the door a few days later.

“It’s open!” he called, a little embarrassed that he was in such a tiny pair of booty shorts for doing yoga but figured that it was his flat anyway.

He looked over his shoulder to see Victor walk into the lounge. He dropped the cookie tin he was holding. Vicchan let out a bark of surprise at the noise.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked, perplexed by the stunned look on Victor’s face. At least Victor was fully dressed this time, though the jeans were practically painted on.

Victor mumbled something in what sounded like Russian and wiped a hand over his face, his eyes very wide and his cheeks flushed pink. Yuuri moved out of the splits and stood, turning to face him.

“Everything okay?” he asked, going over to where Victor was bending to pick up the tin.

“No, I mean yes, everything’s perfect, everything’s thighs, I mean fine!”

Yuuri had never seen Victor looking so flustered. It was kind of cute actually, the way his cheeks had gone pink and his eyes kept flitting to Yuuri then away.

“You finished the cookies?” Yuuri asked, reaching out to take the tin with a smirk, his confidence growing.

“Yes, they were very good,” Victor said, still looking flustered.

“I’m glad,” Yuuri said. Then, daringly, “I was just finishing up, want a cup of tea?”

“Oh, um, yes, that’d be nice.”

Half an hour later they’d exchanged numbers and agreed to a dinner date on Friday night. Though they didn’t wait until then to make out on the couch. Phichit walked in on them and whooped so loudly Victor fell off the couch. Yuuri tackled Phichit and gave him a noogie.

#victuuri #yuri on ice #yoi #viktuuri #fictober19 #detroit fam #AU: neighbours #fanfiction #my writing #mine

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writings-from-the-hart · 5 years ago

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Writebr Intro

Writeblr Intro Time!

Hiya! This is so overdue and I apologize for that lol. I’ve been meaning to write this but school seems to always be getting in the way of just that. Writing. But here I am finally writing this! And yes my username is a pun of my own last name but I just couldn’t resist.

So basically, I really want to surround myself with other writers and have stumbled across tons of writeblr’s (I think that’s what they’re called lol). Instantly I was in love and wanted more of what the community had to offer. I’ve been a self-proclaimed “author” or writer since my early years of grade school. I was that child in the back of the class with ADHD that couldn’t sit still (the cliche bouncing leg and always chewed down nails) and had what my mother called an “overactive imagination”. My notebooks in high school were often filled with wild stories about “galaxies far far away” or dystopias with cruel governments ruled by dictators. Now I’m in my second year of college swamped with classes about the Psychology of criminals (or I like to call the science of murder), and trying to find time to write a novel. So the struggle is real my dudes.

A little about Me:

Hana

She/Her

Pisces

Asexual

Forensic Psychology Major and English with a concentration in Writing Minor

Book hoarder

Dog Mom

Vintage AF

Low Key Emo Punk because I’m no average white girl!

History nerd (Love learning about the old wars and cultures)

Movie nerd (There’s an endless stack of DVDs in my house)

Fandoms:

The Mandolorian (or the ManDADolorian)

Star Trek

Star Wars

Hannibal

X-Files

King Falls Am

Welcome to Nightvale

Transformers (Obviously not the bad movies lol. Bumblebee is baby and must be protected always.)

Good Omens

Sherlock

Lord of the Rings

Marvel (There are so many shows and movies in this category we would be here all day if I tried to list them.)

Timeless (Not sure if the fandom is still alive after what the writers did to one of our ships lol)

DC (I’m a huge Batman geek and adore Wonderwoman, but I take the good with the bad when it comes to this fandom. Especially movie-wise anymore.)

And there’s probably more but my memory isn’t working currently.

Goals?. . . maybe:

Get my novel finished (This has literally been on my To-Do List for who knows how long.)

Meet more writers/new writers.

Improve my poetry (I suck at poetry so I bad I never let it see the light of day, so I need to work on it.)

Start my bullet journal.

Wips:

Okay by now you all know I have at least 1 Wip because I mentioned getting a freaking novel done, but just as a precaution as to what I mean by Wip or Wips. I get distracted quite easily, for some odd reason my brain absolutely loves to jump from one idea to another for no absolute reason. Like WTF dude we already have an idea we’re working on why do you keep bringing all these new ones to me like stray dogs. And like any good dog Mom or distracted writer, I want to keep all the ideas/stray dogs. So, when I say Wip I mean “Look at this cool idea I came up with” and I’ll make sure to specify which one is hogging most of my time.

Renegade: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

This is my baby. Most of my free time is dedicated to adjusting plotlines, character arc’s, fixing freaking plot holes, and other important stuff other than just plain writing. I’m hoping to finish this also monster of a story by 2020 and get it published. So big stuff!

“So tell me little wolf do you want to punish those who have wronged you?” An assassin known as the Crimson Ghost makes their way through the corrupt city-state of Ashton completing a job given to them by the Black Rose. What is a seemingly normal job though turns into something far more complicated when they stumble upon the fractions of an abandoned notebook from the past. A past the Republic is trying to desperately hide and bury no matter what. On the other side of the world in the Republic’s capital Eshar, plainly referred to as “The Prodigy” or “machine” by his superiors, Eric Coalwood has built a life upon the ashes of his family, striving to meet the high expectations set before him by his mentor General Wolfheart. However, his life falls out of its normal day to day routine when the unexpected is asked of him. Command a task force made up of the Republic’s most wanted or his life is over. Eric doesn’t need reasons for why he must do what he has to, all he needs are orders and the Republic is more than happy to give them. Either way the clock is ticking for both the Crimson Ghost and the Republic’s prodigy and with time running out they both have two options. Either get over their different beliefs concerning the Republic or allow the world to once again succumb to war but this time nobody is going to survive it. “Legends are slippery things. For the glory that coats them hides the pain, suffering and death that created them.”

The Trouville Files: Dystopian, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

Not my biggest priority but definitely one of them considering the plot of this story. I mainly use this wip as a reference for Renegade because it’s actually the prequel to it. Also, it’s great to use as writing practice when I’m plagued with writer’s block for Renegade or frustrated with a plot hole. So this is my double-edged sword that does a lot of good.

“Death in these black days is neither kind nor quick.” The year is 2153, the world we know is nothing more than a wasteland strewn with the dead and a sky being choked by their ashes, not glorious and thriving but desolate and starving. The Red Death, a pandemic with a steady progression and a gruesome countdown to the demise of those infected. No one outruns it or survives it. “United we stand, divided we fall.” The Allied Nations, a totalitarian superpower, promised a united people but all they gave this world was more death and destruction. The Red Death isn’t the only thing slowly killing humanity anymore, we are in the form of the War of Broken Pacts. The spark of revolution is lit, but if it will remain so is a question asked by everyone. Does it stand a chance against the iron-fisted government holding the people in shackles? “Rebel with a cause.” Genius Medical Officer for The People’s Republic, Cyprus Ramiro works day and night in search of a cure for the Red Death exterminating hundreds, at least before this war kills him first. But he is also a man on the run and the rebellion can only shelter him for so long. “Duty over pain.” Cunning Spy and Soldier, Orion Ultor is ordered by the Allied Nations to infiltrate and gather information on the ever-growing People’s Republic. In bold letters is Search and Destroy; make a ruin of the rebellion and ensure the Allied Nations remains as it should -- unquestionably in power. No matter the cost unless he wants to suffer the consequences again. “If we fall we shall rise from the ashes like a phoenix.” They should have never met, battlefields don't make good friends. It wasn't fate, it wasn't destiny, only war throwing people together. The Allied Nations is trying to stamp out something they fear, but can they before the Red Plague? Or will humanity find itself extinct.

Beyond his point is where I house my stray dogs/ideas

Hiraeth: Paranormal, Horror, Mystery, and Thriller.

Scooby-doo who?

Hiraeth means a homesickness for a home which you cannot return. That is how Arcane feels like she’ll never be home no matter how hard she tries to connect with her family. The closest she feels to being home is with her friends and in the worn leather seats of the van they all pitched in to buy. It all started out as a way to pass time and for all of them to escape their families because to be honest parents never understand, but it all turned sideways when a simple “ghost hunting trip” stirred something that was meant to remain buried. The truth never remains buried though, not really, somehow it will always creep back in ugly and twisted. Arcane has never felt “at home” but she’ll do whatever it takes to keep what she considers her family safe.

Sweet Dreams: Historical Fiction, Thriller, and Romance.

A literal dream turned into story plot and no I’m not kidding.

The Red String of Fate, The Lovers, and War. These are the three elements intertwined within the plot of Sweet Dreams but before anyone makes any assumptions this isn’t some chummy rom-com. There will be tears and heart strings may get yanked clean out because the angst is real. War and love never mix well, it leaves a sour taste in ones mouth and makes the mind question things it shouldn’t. Like is the woman in his dreams the same woman he sees in all his dreams? Constantly he somehow ends up spotting that same ruby red lipstick, honey golden eyes, and brunette hair laying in perfect curls. She’s everywhere except in his actual life. They say you and your soulmate share dreams, living proof of how intertwined souls are. She doesn’t believe in love or the idea of souls, not with the monsters roaming around the countryside and battlefield carrying assault rifles. Society tells her where her place is, but she disagrees and rather create her own destiny.

The Prophet: Paranormal, Thriller, Post-Apocalypse, and Science Fiction.

A short story I can’t seem to let go or it doesn’t want to let me go, but either way, this story has the makings for something great. It also at times seems strikingly similar to Good Omens, so don’t be surprised.

There’s no anti-christ in this story, he already has a book about himself so let’s not make another one besides there are other stories that need to be told. Such as, have you ever heard of modern day prophets and I’m not talking about those people with cardboard signs saying “the end is near!” or giant churches with people preaching about the end times. No, I’m talking about a kid with messy hair and dark circles under their eyes because sleep is no longer a choice due to migraines that plague them every night. Migraines that bring weird cryptic messages that make one question their own sanity. And what happens when strange people start asking about said migraines and messages?

Virago: Fantasy, Thriller, Historical Fiction, and Romance.

I’m not a huge fantasy reader, for some reason I can’t stay invested in them, but here I am with a fantasy story in my wips. It has mages, knights, assasination plots, and one super badass general who takes zero shit from her king. That’s right women empowerment, my dudes! I don’t really have much of a synopsis inline or a plot because this is only of those wips I let rattle around in my brain from time to time. But I will say it does give me that LOTR vibe but also Game of Thrones.

Don’t be surprised if you see my stray doggos from time to time because I will admit I love to play around with storyboards. Even if I don’t have a fully planned out plot put together for it.

And that concludes this what was supposed to be short Writeblr Intro. I hope I have peaked some of your guys’ interests because the community definitely got a hold of minee. Feel free to send me a message about anything I mentioned (even if it’s just fandom shit I don’t care) and don’t be shy. I’m a huge introvert but somehow love talking, so don’t worry it won’t be awkward and odds are I’m equally nervous about conversation lol. Also, feel free to add me to any taglist and reblog/like if you’re active and would like more Writeblr mutuals!

Happy Writing,

Writings-from-the-Hart

#writeblr #wips #writer intro #my ocs

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rpd-rookie · 4 years ago

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HOLIDAYS - LEON S. KENNEDY X FEM!READER (PART 2)

Summary: Leon meets Y/N again and let's say she isn't done playing with him. You don't mind company in your hot tub, do you Leon?

Author’s note: Sorry about the long wait. I know it's been a while since I haven't updated this fanfic or posted a RE fan fiction. I was busy with work and writing for other fandoms. Hope you'll forgive me and that you'll like this chapter.

Tags: NSFW / Flirting / Slow Burn / Teasing / Seduction / Roleplay / Hand Jobs / Slight Angst / Explicit Sexual Content

(Part 1)

PART 2: The Game

Men are foolish to believe they have no weakness. All men have weaknesses. And even if Leon wanted desperately alcohol to be his only one, he had to admit there was another. One more pleasant and yet sometimes as hurtful and as destructive. Women. Sultry strong women. Those who steal your heart, toy with it like a cat plays with a mouse, crush it with their sharp stilettos to finally throw it back at you without an ounce of remorse or sympathy. How many times he had fallen for those women! How many times he had hurt himself! … And asked for more.

There was possibly something rather addictive, something even rather masochist in doing so. And the fact that he was aware of it showed how stupid he truly could be.

It was a lovely night, slightly cold but starry. The fresh marine wind was blowing softly in the trees and the bursting bubbles of the hot tub massaging his tensed muscles were filling Leon’s ears with a peaceful melody he would gladly listen to for hours. Eyes closed, he could almost imagine what it truly meant to be on holidays, what it truly meant to relax, to forget. Almost. The truth was he could not escape Raccoon City … as he could not escape Spain, or Tall Oaks or any other place he had been, any other place he had survived, any other place he had lost. They always knew how to creep into his brain, always knew how to tie his stomach in a knot, how to make his heart heavy, sometimes –often- in moments when he was the most eager for peace of mind. They were doing it right now. They had been doing it for quite some time now. Since the bombing in DC or maybe before.

“You almost make brooding look hot, you know?” Leon immediately jumped and turned around, startled by the cheerful voice pulling him out of his dark ominous thoughts. A reflex he had acquired and sharpened over the years fighting deadly BOWs. But when his blue eyes lay on Y/N (or Y/SN; He didn’t really know how he should call her), he relaxed and allowed his tightened lips to slightly curl into a weak but sincere smile. “Years of practice.” “Then that explained the wrinkles on your forehead.” She approached him soundlessly, leaving the shadows in which she had been watching him, and squinted at his face, possibly trying to detail all the little aging signs carving his skin. “Is that why you’re wearing a fringe?” “It’s not a fringe!” He replied rather offended and yet perfectly aware that she was merely teasing him the same way she had teased him in that bar a couple nights ago. But his hair was sacred! And he hated when someone was making fun of it. Too bad his little attempt at sounding aggressive only made Y/N laugh and want to mock him a little bit more. Just for fun. “Well, it looks like a fringe… An emo fringe.” Leon frowned and without realising it brushed his hair aside with an annoyed pout the woman found just adorable. “Wow. You’ve got two eyes. Who would have thought?” “Are you done?” She chuckled, eyes shining with mischief as she sat on the edge of the hot tub, legs crossed so as to deliberately show her bare smooth thighs no longer hidden under the white hotel robe she was wearing. Leon couldn’t help but gaze for a second or two, suddenly wondering how that beautiful skin would feel against his calloused fingers, around his waist. Probably amazing. Electrifying. Damn she was good! He thought. Pulling him out of his traumatising memories to throw him deep into a well of lust. Not many women could do that. And it was annoying as much as it was endearing. “Would you like me to keep you company in there?” She offered in a voice that could not disguise the lewd seconds thoughts she had in her mind. But then again, disguising them wasn’t what she wanted. And they were both adult and experienced enough to know that a woman offering to join you in a tub wasn’t doing it to have a chat about the weather. And that was fine. Leon could use some distraction right now. “Depends. Will you keep taunting me?” He questioned trying to resist her a little bit longer even though, for some weird reasons, watching her fingertips touch the bubbling hot water and softly caress the surface was making him suddenly aching. It was as if he wanted his skin to be the water, as if all the things she was doing –even the one that should be innocent- were purely sensual … sexual even. Whether it was always fully voluntary of not, Leon wasn’t sure. But damn, she was surely making her way under his skin. “Well you have to admit my little taunt got your mind of whatever you were thinking about.” She smiled and brought her fingers to wet her neck as she discreetly and proudly peeped at Leon who was observing the droplets running down her skin with dilated pupils. “You’re cleverer than what you let on.” He admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re playing with me or if you’re just flirting.” “Why not both?” Her fingers fell to the collar of her robe to slowly brush the soft fabric off her shoulders, revealing more burning naked skin that made Leon briefly fidget under the water. Was he that touch-starved? “Why not something else?” Could she hear his erratic heartbeat in his chest? His brain screaming at him just to grab her and pull her in his laps? See all his attempts at keeping his cool slowly crumbling to let the obscene fire growing in his loins take over? Her mocking smile made Leon think she probably could. “And what would that something else be?” He asked, curious.

He watched her take a step back. And unconsciously, he leant closer. Like a magnet. Not willing to be left alone or to let her go. And miraculously, unlike many women before her, she didn’t leave. She simply stood where she was and brought her hands to the belt around her waist. “What do you what it to be?” And Leon stared; hypnotized again by her enticing moves he wished were quicker. “Or better question. What do you want me to be?” She unknotted the belt and let her fingers crawl back to the collar of the robe to open it slowly. The mere sight of her décolletage made Leon gulp and suddenly all his tries to keep his eyes on her beautiful face became vain as they always found their way back between her breasts. “A college student with daddy issues …” She opened the robe wider, showing more of her skin “…who’s eager to spread her legs for a married man who lost wife, kids and beagle to his best friend? Or…” more of her breasts, her rosy nipples, her belly, offering a glimpse of her young body “A very naked young woman seducing an old –clearly naked as well- emo boy in a hot tub?” The robe wasn’t covering anything that should have been covered anymore. Leon could see everything, everything enough for his cock to harden under the water and for him to thank for the bubbles hiding his arousal. “Is that what you really are?” She entered the hot tub, towering him like a naked Venus calling to be touched. And god knows how hard it was for Leon not to touch her or to stop thinking about pressing his face against her womanhood. “That looks like what I am right now. Don’t you think?” She let herself slowly sink in the water, not taking her eyes out of him. “And that looks like something you like.” She purred and when Leon thought that she would sit on him, straddle his legs and finally feel his aching member against her… “Only a fool would not like it.” “And you’re not a fool … Leon.” … He froze.

Leon’s eyes widened. Did he hear that right? “What did you just call me?” His tone, though tinted with surprise, had recovered its seriousness and gravitas. But it didn’t seem to unsettle the young woman before him who was still keeping her aura of sensual cheekiness. “Isn’t that your name?” Leon frowned, wondering how she knew and what the hell her intentions were. “You know it’s hard to pretend to be someone else when your name and photo was shown on national TV barely a week ago. Leon S. Kennedy the national hero who saved America from bioterrorism yet again.” “ So you knew all along?” “ I call it naked truth.” She smiled proudly and he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the pun. “What? You said it yourself, I’m cleverer than what I let on.” “ So this little game … What was it for?” “ We can continue if that’s what you want.” She came closer to him, (colour) eyes staring deep in Leon’s own. “ Cause we haven’t stopped playing?” “ Well, I’m still playing.” She put a hand on his sculpted pectorals.

The contact, warm and delicate, made Leon slightly shiver and he looked at her palm slowly going down his firm chest, caressing his skin down to his carved abs, following the line of hairs below his navel until it finally reached his still hard sex “And with what I’m feeling right there. It looks like you can still play with a little help.” He winced as he felt her delicately grab his shaft. “ You’re impossible.” He managed to say between gritted teeth. “ I know. You told me last time... You want me to stop?” She murmured in his ear, her hot breath tickling him in a pleasant way. “I didn’t say that.” His eyes found her face again but only for a short while. Soon they focused on her lips, now so close to his. “Good.”

For an instant he thought she would kiss him to eventually put an end to that game of theirs. That would have been the perfect occasion for them to finally let go to their most primal impulses. But she did not. Instead, she remained the way she was, her face a couple inches away from his, her parted lips so close to touch his and her eyes locked with his. Perfectly in control and taking an excruciating delight in watching Leon lose his composure as her hand was slowly toying with his manhood under the bubbling water. “I think you needed that.” “ You have no idea.” A guttural moan escaped the barrier of his lips and his stomach tensed. Leon could feel his member throbbing in the girl’s grip. He was close already and not even slightly ashamed about it. That was what she wanted, wasn’t it? For him to crumble under her touch. And maybe that was what he wanted too now that he was thinking about it. He closed in blue eyes to focus only on her, on her touch, on her hand, moving up and down in cock, again and again, on her fingers, sometimes caressing the tip, sometimes tracing the prominent veins of his shaft, slowly, oh so slowly. A pleasuring torture he almost wished would be never-ending. “ You know, if you want me to fuck you, you should stop with that amazing hand of yours and quickly climb on top of me.” She chuckled at the sudden dirty talk and surge of confidence, happy to finally see him that way. But as his hands grabbed her hips to bring her in his laps she purred “As much as I would love this, we still have more games to play, Agent Kennedy."

Leon's eyes opened in a flash. Flabbergasted, he felt an atrocious void and a terrible discomfort when, completely powerless, he watched the girl stand up and leave him with nothing less but a smile and a wink. But as much as he wanted to be vexed or resentful, he couldn't help but laugh, thankful that somehow she had managed to take his nightmares away for the night. Sure he had blue balls but those were the best blue balls of his life. " We sure do, Y/N"

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfic

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another-miracle · 5 years ago

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Alright so I’ve been wanting to do this since forever but it’s Obiyuki week, and since I have nothing to show for it (oops), I’m going to make a post about some of the great Obiyuki content (and creators) this fandom has been so blessed with over the past few years. So here goes:

@sabraeal (check her out on AO3): Tbh, Jen’s writing is so very inspiring. I have never been more blessed to be a part of a fandom with someone as talented and down-to-earth as her. I feel like my writing has improved so much just from reading how she tells her stories. I remember I used to struggle a lot with story flow, and would get endlessly caught up in descriptors. Jen’s stories have shown me that you don’t have to stay there just to make your story pretty - you can use so many other things; dialogue, inner thoughts; to move your readers. So thank you Jen for your lovely fiction! Some of her stories that I love, love, love!!

Seven Suitors for Shirayuki: One of my first Obiyuki fics, and gosh I was completely blown away when I first read this. It’s like finding the ocean after years of puddle jumping (in the words of Sarah Kay) HAHA. Literally, I’ve never read such eloquent and lovingly-created fanfiction (and probably fiction) in my life.

The Wide Florida Bay series: Let it never be said that modern AUs are cheesy. I remember being completely put off by the notion of having the characters I loved in a modern setting (because that’s not where the belonged!!) but Jen does it again with this modern AU that has me completely sold! This AU is so intricately crafted down to the last detail, I’m so in awe of how much it corresponds to canon. I also love love all the added elements to Obi (like his backstory (Bob and Gayle!!) and him joining in on the research as well!) Absolutely amazing!

Sensitive Negotiations: Ahhhh this is more of a guilty pleasure of mine because I’m a sucker for drunken confessions. Although not complete, it’s enough resolution to keep me happy hehe. I love how Jen has depicted how much Obi respects and loves his mistress, and protects her from the evil that is alcohol HAHA. ‘tis great and heartwarming and hilariously heart wrenching as well!

@bubblesthemonsterartist (check her out on AO3): JoannaaaAAAaaaaAAA (i.e. me screaming as I jump head first into her fics) Man, Joanna is so so so so good at writing angst and hurt/comfort. I absolutely adore that broken vulnerability that she portrays in her characters, and that strength that comes after healing. Her fics are some I always love to come back to when life gets hard and I need a good cry preceding a pick me up to move forward. Thank you Joanna!! Some special mentions:

Watchtower series: The second! fic I read as a virgin Obiyuki shipper (ew that sounds weird). I can’t tell you how many times I’ve reread this series. There’s so much P A I N and it hurts so good. A very realistic continuation of canon that paints a background of how court life may be Too Much for plebeians like Shirayuki and Obi (haha) and a heartbreaking portrayal of broken relationships and betrayal between trusted ones. Gosh I’ve made it sound so depressing, but it actually turns out really great (all the newfound family feels!!!) Do check it out!

i am become death: this is just absolute poetry! It depicts one’s descent into madness, stopping short of losing oneself, and then finding meaning again. Brilliant imagery and a terribly chilling take on what-could-have-been a terrible Tanbarun arc if things went wrong. Superb!

I Should’ve Met You Yesterday: I fell completely in love with this AU. I mean put dad!Obi together with I-really-want-to-help-but-also-you’re-hot!Shirayuki (mostly dad!Obi tbh, haha) and you get a ridiculously adorable fic with a dash of pulling-at-your-heartstrings. So cute and so lovely. A must-read!

@ruleofexception (check her out on AO3): I feel like Beth (i hope I got your name right sobs - if not, I’m terribly sorry) was like a co-creator sister to me at one point. I remember this one time during one of the Obiyukiweeks (haha who am i kidding I only participated in the 2017 one), we ended up pretty invested in each other’s fics haha. Thank you for that wonderful dynamic - I really never experienced that in any fandom before :)

Unwilling: Yup, this is the one I was talking about. I remember being so incredibly hyped up by it and wondering what would come next (it was when I went for an overseas conference too haha couldn’t concentrate oops) and being so happy that it was Obiyuki week and I would know what would happen the next day! I love love loved the descriptions used here, particularly the ones about the beast/monsters inside of Obi - just so beautiful!

Knowing You: this premise was so interesting and adorable. But also if I had a voice in my head, I would really think I was going crazy hahaha. But I love how this turned out in the end <3 (I know it’s not ended fully yet, but where it is now just makes me really happy hehe). I loved how Beth resolves tension and pieces together parts of the story into a very good resolution that makes you feel like reading her story was absolutely worth it (((:

Damned: Ah yes, the premise where I’m still squinting my eyes at and wondering what’s going on and WHATS GOING TO HAPPEN OMG THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME. An extremely poignant narrative of a post-apocalyptic world (set outside canon of course) that doesn’t feel overdone in the slightest! This fic triggers fear and joy in all the right places, and you really feel like that interactions between characters are so real. So good!

@infinitelystrangemachinex (check her out on AO3): By far the fic writer who has one of the best descriptors I’ve ever seen. The scene just falls into place with every word in a way that reminds me of an artist painting on a canvas with a magical paintbrush. You get immersed immediately. Amazing, amazing writing.

Fugue in Three: I remember describing this fic as something that tears my skin from bone, because of how excruciatingly painful (in a good way) it was to read about Ryuu calling Obi “Dad”. Whatever she wrote about how Obi reacted to that, I felt it too - gosh did I feel it too- that choking in the throat, that pounding in the heart to the brain, I FELT IT when I read this fic. So powerful and so poignant. Extremely humbled after reading this, and so inspired!

Saint Elmo’s Fire: Another fic that throws you immediately into the scene and leaves you gasping for breath. The writing really puts you in the characters’ shoes and it’s as if you’re the one clawing for breath, or struggling to keep warm and gosh- if only I could write like this one day.

The Automaton Heart: Something a bit more light-hearted and lovely. I love the slow descent into love between the two - so cute, yet so real. Another Modern AU that I love (that breaks my heart sobbles) love it hehe!

Ok definitely not done, but it’s late. I’ll do a part 2 when I have time!!! There are so many more!!!

#obiyuki #akagami no shiryaukihime #ily guys #thanks so much for creating #really #so inspired by you all #also fun fact #i wanted to pee when i started writing this #but one hour later #i have yet to pee #so im gonna go pee now #bye

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ikemenshakespeare · 5 years ago

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Day 10: “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.” w/ Blanc

Original fiction or fanfiction? Fanfiction

Fandom: Ikemen Revolution

Warnings/Triggers: N/A

Authors Note: Another one I tried to reference towards Alice in Wonderland! Enjoy!

I’d worked the closing shift at the confectionary tonight. It was another wonderful day filled with children and adults alike, all smiling with joy at the sweet taste of chocolate. After the last customer had gone, I locked up and began walking home. Ever since I’d crossed the street I noticed someone in the shadows, watching me. He looked quite unusual for his age, physically he appeared young and yet his hair was a bright white. In any other circumstance a stranger following me around at night would frighten me. So why was I not scared to notice his presence? That thought was what terrified me the most. Still, I kept watch for him out of the corner of my eye. Right before I reached my small home, he set towards me at a run. “MC!”

My heart began to hammer in my chest. How does he know my name? Vigorously I shook the lock on my door. It was stuck and I wasn’t gonna make it inside before the man reached me. “Wait!” When the man finally got close enough he slowed down, panting heavily as he walked towards me.

“Don’t come any closer!” All I had in my hands was my purse. I threw it over my shoulder as a last ditch effort for a weapon. “I saw you following me, what do you want?” He looked confused as I spoke.

“MC, it’s me. You said to come back for you when everything was over, remember?” He took another step forward.

“I said don’t move!” His confused expression turned into one of hurt. “What are you talking about? When what was over?” I couldn’t stop myself from being curious. Why?

“The war.”

“London hasn’t-”

“In cradle MC.” Cradle? My silence must have said enough. “You don’t remember, do you?” He grabbed my hand, a worried expression on his face. “We have to go.” I pulled back aggressively.

“Sir, I don’t even know you! I’m not going anywhere.” He looked hurt again. That’s when he glanced at his watch, eyes going wide.

“Oh no no no. We’re late! there’s no time, we have to go!” He was persistent, pulling me along the road and his earlier confusion spread to me now. I pulled us to stop again. Furrowing my brows.

“You need to tell me what’s going on or I’m not moving one more step.”

“Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.” His words echoed inside my brain for a moment. I shook my head, hesitantly approving. We set off at a brisk pace and I strained to keep up with him. “All I can tell you is things didn’t go as planned.” We were in the park now and in the center of the grass field I could see a bright light. We were fast approaching it too. “Not only was the black army absorbed, but the red army is in danger now too.” We were standing right next to the light, and the more I looked at it-

“That’s a hole?...” I was mystified, but it didn’t feel completely new to me.

“Yes.” He looked into my eyes. The look he was giving me sent chills down my spine, both from pleasure and intensity. “MC, we made a mistake sending you back. You are the key to ending this war, and without you the country will be obliterated.” He looked between me and the passage way. “We need to jump.” Just as he was about to leap in head first with me to tag along I screamed.

“WAIT!” He snapped his head back towards me. “Before we go, at least tell me- what’s your name?” He was already holding my hand with his left, so he placed his right hand over the top of both ours. For the first time since meeting him he gave me a charming smile and somehow, I knew that it fit him best.

“My names Blanc Lappin, but some people call me the white rabbit. It’s a pleasure to see you again my dear.” And with that I was engulfed by the feeling of falling, falling, down, down, down.

#Fictober19 #Blanc Lapin #Ikemen Revolution #Cybird #Day 10 #Otome #Alice in Wonderland

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our-smooty · 6 years ago

Text

450 Years

Fandom: Gorillaz

Rating: Mature

Relationships: 2doc

Tags: psychosis, abusive relationship, 2doc, near death experiences

Summary: Plastic Takes 450 to decompose

It stank to high heaven on the shores of Plastic Beach. Some horrible mixture of garbage, seawater, and spraypaint all roasting in the sun and mixing with the smell of dead fish. Even he’d noticed the smell, which was surprising given the bashed-in state of his nose. Within the first week, he’d given up getting rid of the smell and accepted it, though he still occasionally felt a pang of jealousy at Cyborgs lack of olfactory senses.

To be honest, the smell was the least of his worries. If he was being honest, he wasn’t 100% sure where he got this island from, or how he’d gotten there. The past few months had been a blur, and he’d either been too high or too drunk to remember most of what happened. Now, 6 months on, he didn’t think it really mattered.

Because Murdoc? Murdoc deserved to be isolated out here, in the middle of nowhere. He deserved the be hunted by pirates and Boogieman, to be forgotten on his own garbage-pile prison. As every day passed, each one blending into the next in a haze of hallucinations and drugs, he never forgot why he deserved to be there. He reminded himself at every opportunity, that he deserved to die, that he was awful that she--

That it should have been him.

In a blink, a year had passed, and he celebrated by trying to jump off the pretty pink balcony of his bedroom. Cyborg stopped him, of course. She was programmed to protect him, even from himself. She must have been the one ordering all the supplies as well because no matter how much Murdoc drank, there was always more. Never enough.

It’d been a shock when 2D showed up in that suitcase. To be honest, he wasn’t actually sure if he’d kidnapped the singer or if someone else had. Having someone else around revived him enough to think about other things. The line between reality and fiction began to blur and before he knew it he was writing an album, forcing the singer to perform with Murdoc’s fucked up copy of their bandmate.

It was one day like this when Murdoc had let 2D up from the basement--just to stop him crying, the singer’s crying was echoing through the building and worming into his brain--that the bassist well and truly snapped. They were sitting in the studio, 2D spinning round and round in a chair, Murdoc plucking nonsense on his bass when Stu had come to a halt right in front of him.

“Eh Murdoc,” he started, his twangy voice grating against Murdoc’s raw nerves. He grunted in response, stopping his strumming but not looking up. He didn’t like looking up at either of them anymore, didn’t like the way their eyes made him feel. “What’d’you think about takin’ a trip, jus’ t’get off the island for a lil’ bit?”

Again, Murdoc grunted in reply. The singer continued. “I-I was jus’ thinkin’ we’ve been workin’ so hard a-and there haven’t been any helicopters for ages an--” Murdoc dropped his bass to the floor suddenly, startling the other. “O-or not! I-it’s fine!”

2D cowered in the chair, his fingers nervously tapping against one-another. Murdoc stood stock-still, his fists clenched, breathing rapidly. “You wanna leave?” His voice was deadly calm, masking the inner rage boiling away. He made a decision. The singer nodded but didn’t dare speak.

“Right, up you get then,” Murdoc said, jumping to his feet and striding out of the room. 2D clambered behind him, worried but also excited at the chance to finally get off this rotten hunk of garbage.

Murdoc led them through the building and out into the sunny walkway. The singer skipped happily out the door and into the sunshine; he hadn’t been outside in so long and the warmth on his skin was heavenly. He didn’t have time to bask long, Murdoc was already down the path and near the dock where his submarine was floating. In seconds he’d unlocked the hatch and jump in, leaving the singer to dash clumsily to catch up.

“Sit down, strrrrrrap in, Dents,” the bassist exclaimed, wasting no time in getting things started. A strange, manic glint shone in his eye, his movements just a little too quick to be regular. 2D didn’t notice, too busy planning his vacation away from Plastic Beach.

Within minutes they were jetting off, leaving a trail of bubbles behind them. Where he’d usually be too scared, this time 2D was staring out the porthole, watching the pink plastic get further and further away. By the time it was out of sight and he turned back to the bassist he realized he had no idea where they were going. A quick glance into the back seat also told him they’d managed to leave Cyborg behind.

“So uh, where we goin’ then Muds?” he asked, suddenly feeling significantly more nervous. The Satanist didn’t answer, his gaze level and unwaveringly focused on the deep blue emptiness in front of them. “Murdoc?”

They sat in silence, 2D getting more and more antsy with each passing minute. Each creek and moan of the sub made him jump and whimper. Eventually, he couldn’t take it, and he ducked down in his seat, mask over his face, eyes covered.

“What’s your problem, then?” Murdoc growled, spooking the younger even more. He reached out a hand, still looking forward, and yanked the mask off, tossing it in the back. “Can’t stand that stupid thing!”

S-s-sorry Murdoc!” the singer cried, shaking. Murdoc grunted before pressing a few buttons, stopping the submarine. Suddenly, it was very, very quiet. “Why’d you stop?”

Murdoc leaned back, both hands behind his head, and let out a sigh. “Because,” he reached under the seat and pulled out an unmarked bottle of liquor “we’re almos’ outta gas. Need gas for life support.”

2D blanched. “O-outta gas? Whaddaya mean outta gas!? How’re we gonna get home?”

Murdoc shrugged. “Dunno, mate. You’re the one of wanted a vacation.” The singer stared at him, completely gobsmacked.

“It’s not my fault! How was I supposed to know we didn’t have enough gas!” He let his head fall in his hands. “We’re gonna die out here, we’re gonna drown.”

“Actually, we’ll probably suffocate first. Or get crushed to death by the pressure when the sub sinks,” Murdoc added casually, popping the cork on the bottle and taking a pull.

Eyes wide with fear, 2D turned on the bassist, fists clenched. “This is all your fault! You’re killing us both!”

Again, Murdoc was quiet. He still hadn’t looked at the singer properly since they’d left. He watched as Stu frantically pressed buttons and pulled levers on the dash; it was no use. The key was stashed away in the bassists pocket, and the sub wouldn’t do a thing without it.

“Why’re you doin’ this?” 2D moaned, ending his futile button-smashing in favour of curling up in his seat. Murdoc sighed loudly, and nudged the bottle against his shoulder.

“Aren’t you tired, D?” he asked. 2D took the bottle none too gently and drank. “It’d be easier, this way, gettin’ drunk and sinkin’.”

2D coughed at the bitter burn of the low-grade alcohol. “I don’t wanna die! I wanna go home to Russel an’ Noo--”

Before he could finish her name, Murdoc stood looming over him, fist raised. The singer coward, expecting the blow. When it didn’t come, he spared a glance up at his would-be attacker. Murdoc was still looming, but his hand was limp at his side.

“You and me, Stu, we’re connected. It’s like one of those stupid teen novels yeah?” The singer watched him pace back into the body of the sub, swinging the bottle wildly. “If one of us goes, we both gotta go, so why not jus’ get it over with? Why wait it out when the whole world’s gone to shit?”

“What the bloody fuck are you on about?” 2D spat back at him. “You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Murdoc was obviously frustrated that the younger man didn’t understand. It was so obvious, and he almost couldn’t believe 2D was that thick. “Don’t you feel it? It brough’ you to this island, in that suitcase!”

“That was some freak in a gas mask,” 2D snapped. “Probably one of your friends.”

Murdoc rounded on him, finger raised. “Then you’ve seen him too! Fuck, I thought I’d really lost it.”

That confirmed it. 2D had been suspicious before, given Murdoc’s erratic and downright nonsensical, but now he knew for sure. “You haven’t been takin’ your medication, have you?”

“What are you on about? I’m fine.” Murdoc gestured wildly with the bottle, splashing liquid everywhere. 2D shook his head sadly.

“You think drowin’ us in the middle of the ocean is ‘fine’?” he asked. Nothing he said was going to make any difference, he remembered how Murdoc was before the meds and knew that the man was probably completely detached from reality. “Nevermind. I’m going to look for some spare fuel in the back. Jus’ don’t… do anything else ok?”

Murdoc turned on him, face snarling in sudden anger. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me my own business! I’m in charge here!”

“S-sorry!” 2D yelped. Murdoc seemed to pause for a moment, before deciding pummeling the younger into a pulp wasn’t worth it. He sat on one of the cots with his booze, content to spend the last few hours of his life drinking. Stu was still determined to find a way out, and he quietly made his way back to the storage area.

After an hour of searching, he’d found nothing useful. A lot of the stuff was junk, spare bits of wires and empty bottles. With fear bubbling sharp and violent in his chest 2D sank to the floor, defeated. “We’re really gonna die.”

“Quit your whinin’, everybody dies,” Murdoc grumbled. He’d been quiet as Stu searched, obviously uninterested in saving them.

“I’m only in my 30’s, I don’t wanna die yet!” the singer cried. Tears began to run down his face.

With a grunt, Murdoc sat up and wobbled over to where the singer was sitting. He sat beside him heavily, offering the bottle again. “Dyin’s not so bad, Stu.”

“How would you know? You aren’t dead,” 2D moaned, taking bigger and bigger gulps from the bottle. Murdoc laughed bitterly and relaxed against the cold metal wall.

“Might as well be,” he mumbled. 2D looked at him warily, noting the dark bags under his eyes, and the gauntness of his cheeks. The bassist really did look sick, how had he not noticed before?

“Whaddaya mean?”

Murdoc sighed. “I’ve been alive a long time, longer than I think I know about,” the older answered. He could feel the emptiness in his chest aching. “I know I can be a right bastard, but it’s all been about me, you know?”

2D shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about Murdocc. You’re completely mad.”

“You’re probably right,” he agreed. They sat like that, a few inches apart, sharing the bottle until it was empty. “D’you remember… Jamaica?”

2D let out a short laugh. “How could I not? We were so drunk the entire time, it was great.”

“What about that night… the one after Noodle and Russ went back?”

2D thought back through the haze of alcohol. Russel had taken Noodle home once they’d both gotten tired of the constant partying, but 2D and Murdoc had stayed behind. The two of them had always been a bit more wild than Russel, not to mention Noodle was still just a kid. He tried to bring up a clear memory of the days after when it’d been them two alone. It was all a blur.

“Nothin’s really comin’ to mind, no.” Murdoc looked disappointed, if not a little upset.

“Figures,” he sighed. “I always assumed you forgot.”

A niggling voice in the back of 2D’s head made him stop drinking, and think really hard. “I-I remember when you fell outta that tree, and then nothin’ until we were on the plane back home.”

Murdoc sniffed. “S’probably for the best. Dunno how I remember any of it either.”

“What are you talkin’ about?” 2D asked, his suspicions growing, The more he thought about it, the clearer things were getting, like pulling back the curtains on a hidden painting. A dark room, hands, lips on his.

“We weren’t that drunk, at the time, you know,” Murdoc said firmly. “Forget I said anythin’, it won’t matter soon anyways.”

A warm body pressed against his, whispered words and bright pleasure. “Are you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin? That we…”

“Snogged, yeah. Tossed each other off a few times” Murdoc confirmed. 2D felt his stomach flip.

“Why are you tellin’ me this now? Why not before?”

Murdoc rolled the empty bottle between his hands, watching the tiny drops inside roll down the glass. “Cause it makes sense. We’re quite the pair, you and I.”

“I still have no idea what you’re on about. We snogged nearly a decade ago and now you’re keepin’ me hostage on a plastic island and drownin’ us in the ocean?” None of this was making sense, but what else could he expect? Murdoc was irrational and off his medication, there was no rhyme or reason for his actions.

“It. Makes. Sense,” Murdoc growled, gripping the bottle tight. “We’re meant to be together, Stu, in one way or another. This is jus’ the last step.”

“Murdoc,” the singer began, voice shaky, “you’re not well. You don’t need to do this.”

But he knew it was too late. They had no way of getting back to land, or even to Plastic Beach. It’d take a miracle to save them.

“I’m sorry,” the bassist said suddenly standing and pacing again. “It’s a shame to deprive the world of such a beautiful creature. But it’s the only way.”

“The only way to what?” 2D asked, voice trembling with both fear and anger. “You haven’t even fuckin’ asked me what I--”

“You would have said no!” Murdoc snarled, spit flying from his lips. “Of course you would--”

“How do you know?” 2D shouted tearfully. “Instead of askin’ me y-you dragged me to this stupid island an’ n-now you’re tryin’ t’drown me!”

Murdoc slowed at that. “You don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. You don’t know--”

“Try. Me.” The look in 2D’s eyes was both hard and afraid. “We don’t have anythin’ else to do, except w-wait to die anyway.”

Murdoc sat heavily in the captain's seat, one leg swung over the arm. “I knew the first time I laid eyes on ya, not while you were in a c-coma mind, but after the second accident.”

“Eyes like tar pits, hair-like bloody cotton candy. The most gorgeous bloke I’d e-ever seen. The perfect frontman.” Murdoc held the bottle in his hands up, looking through the wet glass. “But you were always popular with the ladies, weren’t you?”

Stu listened, dumbstruck. “What are you trying to say you fancy me or something? I-is this your sick way of a-askin’ me out?”

The sub gave a sudden, violent banging sound, like metal on metal. It drowned out Murdoc’s dry laugh. “It’s not that simple, D.”

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that a-anymore,” 2D said after he recovered from the noise. “Y-you’re fuckin’ sick, there’s somethin’ wrong with you!”

Murdoc laughed again. “Never said there wasn’t.” With a sigh, the bassist tossed the bottle aside to join the others littering the sub floor. 2D wasn’t really sure what else to say. They were trapped here, and he would rather not spend the last few hours of his life arguing with Murdoc, of all people. He reached over to one of the half-empty bottles on the floor and opened it, taking a swig.

“This is insane. You couldn’t, I don’t know, ask me out like a r-regular person?” he asked, hanging his head in his hands.

“Would you have said yes?”

The singer didn’t even have to think. “No, probably.”

“Probably?” Murdoc’s voice was softer now, his head tipped back against the armrest. “Don’t sound too sure.”

Why were they having this conversation now? The fact that he might be dead soon gave 2D the courage to answer. “Probably, I dunno. Maybe I f-fancied you back t-then. But that w-was years ago.”

Murdoc was quiet so long that Stu thought he might have passed out. He was about to get up and check--he didn’t really want to die alone--when the bassist spoke. “An’ what about now?”

He wanted to be mad. Really, he did. Maybe the air in the cabin was getting thinner, or maybe the singer was drunker than he thought. Either way, he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry.

“2D?”

“You kidnapped me. An’ y-you’re keepin’ m-me on this island.” Murdoc peered at him from the captain's chair, watching him speak. “You’re s-sick, completely deranged!”

“S'not a no, mate,” Murdoc said quietly. 2D sighed.

“I'm not talkin’ about this right now.”

“Why not. We'll be dead in an hour or so anyway. Come-on Stu, humour me,” the bassist begged, swivelling his body so 2D could see the pathetic pout on his lips.

“Sof off,” 2D moaned. Murdoc sighed dramatically and continued to pout. Every couple of seconds, he let out another, prolonged sigh until the singer finally snapped. “God this is s-so like you! Draggin’ me to this island, lockin’ me up, trappin’ me in this submarine!”

“I didn’t do this!,” Murdoc snarled. “This was always goin’ to happen!.”

“Y-you know at one time, I-I really liked you, M-Muds. I trusted you.” Murdoc was breathing heavy through his nose, his anger boiling over, but 2D didn’t back down. “But I’m sick of you abusin’ me and tryin’ to take advantage of me!”

Murdoc growled. “I’m not doin’ shit its--”

“Stoppit Murdoc!” 2D shouted, standing up to loom over the bassist. “You keep sayin’ you’re not the one doin’ it but I think you know, somewhere in that fuckin’ mess you call a brain that you are! You can’t keep livin’ in this fuckin’ la la land! You’re delusional!”

Murdoc didn’t answer, so he continued. “Are there even really people after you, or did you jus’ make that up? And why’d you made it look so much like Noo--”

His angry monologue was cut off by a sudden deep banging coming from the outside of the sub. Terror shot through both of them, their imaginations running wild. Murdoc straightened up in his seat quickly, fumbling with the keys in his pocket, though he knew they were out of gas.

2D shrieked as the banging got louder. It had to be that fucking whale! He couldn’t help but grab onto Murdoc’s shoulder tightly. “M-M-Murdoc what--”

“I-I don’t fuckin’ know!” Murdoc growled in answer, jamming the keys into the ignition. The engine sputtered briefly, then suddenly roared back to life. He was about to step on the gas when a pale figure swam out into view of the front window. “Fucking Hell!”

“Aieeeeeee!” 2D screeched. As the figure got closer, it became clear that it was Cyborg, her skin tinted an eerie green by the seawater. She gestured for them to ascend with a jerky motion, swimming upwards herself. Murdoc, eyes glassy and hands shaky, did so, 2D’s rapid breathing grating against his senses.

It didn’t take too long for them to breach the surface, the submarine bobbing lazily on the calm sea. 2D started out over the waves with something akin to wonder. As he did, the hatch on the roof sprung open, and Cyborg dropped inside, stalking over to the controls.

“Sir, please vacate the captain’s seat so that I may pilot us back to base,” she ordered in her monotone, robotic voice. So far from the voice her’s was based on. Murdoc didn’t argue, and he scrambled out of the seat quickly taking his rum with him.

2D sat back in the co-pilot's seat, still shaking from fear and adrenaline. Going from thinking they were going to die, to listening to Murdoc’s ranting, and then knowing he was going back to Plastic Beach was wreaking havoc on his nerves. Behind him, he heard Murdoc shuffling around drunkenly on one of the cots. Laying down sounded nice, but he was rooted to the spot, eyes darting between Cyborg and the horizon.

When he saw the silhouette of Plastic Beach breach the horizon he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Cyborg kept a steady pace towards the docks, and before he knew it they’d arrived. To think that just a few hours ago he’d been so excited to go on a “trip” with the bassist.

“Please exit the vehicle,” Cyborg droned and she activated the hatch release. Finally, 2D felt he could move, and he all but ran to the ladder and hatch. Murdoc was right behind him, climbing the ladder and jumping out onto the dock with drunken fluidity. It was a miracle he didn’t fall into the water.

“Downstairs,” he ordered. 2D was happy to go back to his prison for once if it meant getting away from the bassist. Unfortunately, Murdoc followed close behind him. 2D paid him no mind and stomped up the beach, into the elevator, and down to his room. He made his way inside and attempted to swing the door shut behind him, but Murdoc stopped it.

“Why’re you followin’ me?” the singer snapped. Murdoc stood in the doorway, posture defeated. “I don’t wanna deal with you anymore today.”

“2D…” Murdoc sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “Are you hungry? I could get Cyborg to--”

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” Stu screamed, whipping around and stalking toward the other man. With significant strength he pushed Murdoc backward through the door, letting it slam closed. The bassist didn’t have time to react, not that he was sure what he would do if he had the chance. On the other side of the door, 2D slumped down to the floor, sobbing. Today had been too much.

Murdoc stood outside Stu’s room for a long time, idling and drinking from the bottle he’d brought back from the sub. He could hear 2D crying, though he could hear that most times, so he wasn’t sure if he was really hearing it or not. What did the singer want him to do? Murdoc stared down at the bottle in his hands helplessly. He hated feeling helpless or powerless, it made him unbelievably angry. With a growl and a shout, he swung the bottle against the wall, the tinkle of shattering glass doing nothing to ease his rage.

“Fuck you!” he shouted at the closed door before stomping away and into the elevator. He didn’t need this shit. Stu just didn’t understand, that was all. No one understood; Murdoc might as well be alone in the ocean. Set adrift on a slowly sinking submarine, doomed from the start.

#2doc #abuse #niccalpot #psychosis

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