#william is the worst piece of human filth

[cevherien]

Ellie Williams, ྀི♡

Yandere Alphabet Headcanons

Along with your blood, sweat and fresh wounds.

Warnings Yandere, Smut, Angst, Blood and Gore, Violence, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lesbian Sex, ww, Sapphic, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Verbal Humiliation, Abuse, Toxic relationship

Also, hey. Dark content. Clearly. Kidnapping and yandere business is never consensual so keep that in mind.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Before Ellie started showing her lovesick tendencies, you'd thought that she was just the type of girl to be possessive over her loved ones, like a protective dog. But the more into the relationship you got the more intense her obsession became.

Insufferably jealous and easily irritable.

During sex she started getting rougher with you, leaving more visible marks across your body with her skilled mouth. Mumbling curses under her breath about how she couldn't bare to lose you, how you were meant to be. How much you meant to her.

"Tell me you'll never leave me angel, say it." she'd urge while two fingers knuckle deep into your sweet pussy, the pussy that belongs to her and her only. Curling them to your G-spot with ease, getting you to the edge with only simple movements.

With the way she blurs your thoughts, head in the stars with the satisfaction of each stroke, you can't get yourself to respond. All that leaves your lips are moans and the occasional call for her name.

Now that just won't do.

She'd grab your chin with her free hand, fingers squeezing your cheeks with a little more force than necessary, "I said tell me, tell me how much you need me." her fingers stop their movement so you can focus on her words better. "Say you'll never leave. Promise."

That night was the first time you saw such a dangerous spark in her pupils, one that spoke volumes about what was about to come.

"I promise, Ellie."

Not like you had a choice in her eyes.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Real messy.

We all know she gets the job done, she is no rookie in the killing game. This is not something new for her, the killing atleast.

But now she has you, she swore to be more careful to not get any unwanted attention from people but it's not her fault that a pretty little thing like you attract the worst kind of pesticides. She won't even dare call them human, just filth. Filth that wants to take you away. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.

-

Ellie violently stabs the now completely unrecognizable corpse. Been going at it even after it died. This little piece of shit had its eyes on you. Undeserving little whore that was, thinking it had a chance.

Her angry screams fill the night along with the wet splash of blood everywhere leaving god knows how many stab wounds behind.

Ellie pulls back away, but not without spitting at it for one last time.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Never. You are her sweetheart, her lifeline. The blood that pumps in her veins, it's all for you. The breath in her lungs rushes in for you and her heart beats with the contagious love she carries for you.

But the catch is, she expects the same from you. It's only fair, no? If Ellie is to dedicate her all for you, she thinks you should be doing just the same.

She worships you, quite literally.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Anything thats for your own good, for your own safety. She knows what's best for you, always. The more you deny, the more pervasive and stubborn she'll get, leaving you no freedom left whatsoever.

But in her eyes your freedom belongs to her. Just like how you do too. Her precious baby, all for her to love on, all for her to adore.

She doesn't acknowledge or recognize your autonomy & consent in times like this, yet ask her, she'll deny rape. Afterall, aren't you her sweet girlfriend, soon to be wife, darling, angel? ,,All her's so she doesn't really need to ask.’’

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Ellie is absolutely infatuated with you. We know that, whats new?

She is truly her genuine self with you, shows you all her colors, which also -unfortunately- includes the ugly aspects. Since she loves you this much, why can't you excuse her imperfections? Love her as she is. as the monster she has become

Disinterested and rude as she may be to others, to her angel she is a saint.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Betrayed, confused and scared..? You were supposed to be by her side no matter what. No matter. You promised. Come back. Don't go. Please don't leave.

Was she too overwhelming for you? Was her love too much?

That night she makes her plans for the abduction.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

She isn't playing when it comes to you, she can't have you abandon her. Ellie genuinely believes she's better off dead without you.

Foreshadowing

Oh and don't even try your luck running away, your first few attempts were futile and she had gotten more paranoid and violent after each try, leaving you no choice but hope for someone else to come get you. But Ellie would make sure nobody even knew of you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably first week of the kidnapping, just freshly captured and kept in Ellies basement for the time being, until you accept the shackles your new life, she'd be keeping you safe and sound.. or with no sound with the gags she used on you.

In her defense, you were screaming too much, tch her poor baby. You might just damage your throat and that just won't do. It's for your own well being baby, she swears.

"It hurts me more than it hurts you puppy, you know that."

-

The night that she drugged you, once too many times, she'd swore upon her love for you that this would be the last time. Since.. you won't be needing that no more, Ellie had planned this long before but now that it was finally happening, it felt surreal.

But hell, she couldn't keep her promise.

Why'd you have to misbehave so much? Just sit tight and enjoy your new life with her; getting used to it would take time, sure, but she had that in mind when she captured you, giving you some alone time in the basement to.. ehm, cope for a lack of a better word, cope with the loss of your old life, your freedom, your ways of living.

And soon yourself.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

After the difficult first two weeks in the basement with a fit thrown every other day, it was inevitable for your resolve to slowly crumble, shattering into in salvageable pieces like the shards of a broken wine glass; knocked, devastated, broken.

And that's exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She had too many things in mind for you: wife you up, keep you safe in her grasp. Her little doll to do whatever she desired. But planning too far ahead was never Ellies forte, you knew that. Her kidnapping you was impulsive and selfish, and she doesn't regret it one bit.

But for now, she'll just have you all by herself. Keep you naked for her viewing pleasure, her sweet insatiable eye candy you were.

Just sit pretty, thats all you had to do.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Once she feels like you finally accept her and your new life she would start taking you out occasionally, not too much though, and you can't leave her side not even for a second. Ground rules are to be followed, and thats one absolute.

And at days when she felt jealous or envious, sometimes for absolutely no reason, she'd take it out on a complete stranger she claims looked your way weird or stared at you for too long. When she doesn't have anybody else to blame she takes it out on you.

"Baby how could you do something like this to me? Betraying me and my trust like that..?" she'd spit on your face while fingers digging through the sensitive skin of your cheeks, "Is that what you are, bitch? A whore?"

"Ellie please-"

"A fucking whore that tries to seduce anyone she possibly can, and for what huh? All you need is me, don't you get it-!"

With that Ellie has her way with you for the rest of the night. Nose buried deep into your cunt, sniffing in your scent while she sobs as you are too tired to shed more tears. She'd apologize a mantra, yet your body would be too boneless tired and overstimulated to even respond. You'd only be hearing her pleading in tidbits in your state.

sorrybaby sosorrybaby imsosorry iloveyou please pleasedontleave dontleave me please dont leave

-

Before the usurp, before she opened your eyes as to what kind of person she truly was, before all the trauma and abuse, when you two were just an unconventionally overloving couple, she'd be constantly on your neck about how other people had their eyes on you and how she wasn't having it. You'd shrug it off with 'they don't matter to me', 'you're the only one for me Ellie.' or 'why does it matter, just ignore them'

At first she'd listen to you, but time pass, and her impulses get heavier to control leading her to murder them, or worse, torture them behind your back. And things would only escalate from there.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Like a primal fucking animal.

Groping your ass every chance she got, one hand one your waist constantly as if something or someone was going to take you away from her.

Hands exploring your inner thighs when sitting together, occasionally going in too deep and settle on top of your crouch, just lets it linger there. Arousal hits your core in times like this, guilt getting harder to swallow with how enticing her touch is, yet her hand doesn't move. Just holds it still as to tell 'this pussy belongs to me' her eyes recite the same story, 'she's mine right? my cunt.'

When she has you naked, fingers in your mound just fingerwarming your wet pussy barely moving and avoiding your clit and leaking hole, only maybe caressing your puffy wet lips if she's feeling generous. Afterall, you were but trouble at times, and she was just giving you a lesson. Patience.

She was doing much more than you deserved, with how ungrateful you were, she was convinced.

But with the way your nails would imprint on her forearms and wrists, her name falling with heavy moans as you whine for your sweet most anticipated release, she'd give in and slide two fingers in, just easily with the way you were creaming all over her palm.

And when your orgasm finally hits, you cry out with so much pent up satisfaction that it would make Ellie hurl. Music to her fucking ears.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Ellie is hardly around people, and if she is, she's stoic and serious. Really not much of a people person, not anymore atleast. The only person she needs is you, anyway. Why would she bother with incompetent fools.

The only time she's around people is when she's out on a deputy, and it doesn't take her long to come back considering she skillfully handles the missions with ease, swift and faithful with the thoughts of you at home. Home. What a foreign concept made possible by you.

But what could be said is, Ellie has an impossible to read Poker-Face. Try as they might, no use. She's a mystery to everyone but you. She shows the real Ellie to you and you only.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Sex. Ellie uses sex both as a gratification and as a punishment. It might sound dubious but really, is the least painful thing she does. Atleast on your end, it makes you feel good even for the shortest of time. Goddamn her and her masterfully talented hands and tongue.

Everytime you cum for her you feel guilty, guilty for feeling good in your situation. Guilty for liking the rape.

Guilty for starting to crave your kidnapper.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She's certainly patient with you, as long as you don't make a fuss, she'll tolerate you quite fine.

Just.. don't try to leave her, that won't end well.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You're not going anywhere, she's convinced herself that. Atleast not physically. You're binded to her as long as you live. But what if you die. Then what?

Then she dies too, that simple. If you were killed, she'll seek revenge and pull another Abby hunt before she commits. But more violent this time around, the second time losing someone so close, this close, and now she truly has nothing else to lose.

Her death would be quick and smooth with a revolver to her head. Not wasting any time, she wants to see you again. Maybe in an afterlife. Ellie's never been a believer, she never believed in that kind of stuff, but for you she wants to. She hopes to.

With the pull of her trigger she'd go out effortlessly. Her body going limp with a subtle smile on her lips, ready to see you once again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Regretting kidnapping you? No way in heaven or hell, that was the best thing she'd ever done, the only right thing -she's pretty convinced - she's ever done.

But after every punishment you receive, the smallest resemblance of humanity left in her twinges. Not enough for her to stop or change her ways though. Just an uncomfortable little shiver up her spine.

She's not ever letting you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

All her life, Ellie's been abandoned wether they intended to leave her or not. She'd been left alone for too long, nothing was ever permanent in her life. Every thing and everyone she'd loved and cared for had turned into nothing but a figment of her memories.

... Joel was her breaking point.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She's conflicted when it comes to this, at one hand it turns her on. She can't really explain why. ever heard of a fetish Ellie? But it also hurts her soul to see you suffer like that. And for what?

For you to get used to her that is. If then, she finds no mean in interfering with that. When it comes to that point of denying her so much that you isolate yourself for days, she knows your resolve is about to break soon.

It's just a matter of time before you fully give in.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Definitely the love and admiration she has towards you. She cherishes you so much to the point that, she would not only kill but die for you.

Do what you will with that information.

But she will certainly be hesitant with the self sacrifice route, since she doesn't want to leave you alone. What would you possibly do if she died?

Especially since she made sure to mindbrand you shamelessly.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

This goes without saying but she truly believes there is nothing more serene than having you under her touch, besides wasn't all the hussle she went through just to have you enough to prove it?

And the worship doesn't stop there, not with the murders or the sex. With her devoting everything she is to you, it's only a matter of time for you to get lost and be over consumed by her lust love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

You're not aware but she'd been watching you left and right for years. Not making a single mistake in her ways or getting caught.

Never thought she would even end up with you at first, but when a night in the bar had you two all over eachother - definitely not because she spiked your drink, it was all for you she says - and fucking like animals all night she asked you on a date and things progressed.

You were completely oblivious to the fact that this was her plan all along. You only thought of her as a faithful encounter, a one night stand turned into your new girlfriend. But Ellie had something completely different in mind.

-

You have no idea how painful it is for her to be away from you, like ever. After Ellie kidnapped you, she still had to work to keep things moving. Which meant being away from home, from you.

Her being away so often left you all alone in the house, resolve broken from the emotional manipulation she'd been doing to you for so long.

In the earlier days of the abduct you had tried to escape, multiple times. But after some time -and a lot of abuse- you'd became completely dependent on her. The plan she had worked wonders, breaking your resolve and keeping you all to herself till the end of days.

Now you just wait for her arrival like a loyal little puppy. Stockholm syndrome so strong that you feel stressed and anxious when she's not around.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Her poor little innocent angel, you don't know any better now, do you? It breaks Ellie's heart to see you hurt, see you so out of it and shattered, but it had to be done.

When she first took you in and you rejected to eat or drink anything, let alone spare her a glance, it became the only option. Had to have you one way or another. Either you'd eventually submit to your new life or she'd have to get you get used to it.

Has to have you to the point of no return in which you feel the constance of time breathing down your neck everytime you're not with Ellie, not under her touch, not near her warmth. Craving her like some drug. Completely dependent on her to feel something, anything.

Then again, she'd much rather not have you go through a single bad experience with her, -that's what she promised, yet..- unless you really push it she'd be as gentle as the night sky.

Just be her sweet escape, the darling she can come back home to, her beloved. It's about time you get used to it by now.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Cross Cut

A/N: Another in the Play the Hand You’re Dealt event, this takes a look at the day Logan met his buzzkill from his point of view, and what you did that made him sure that you were the right person for this job. 

Warning: language. and William’s face, gross. 

Word Count: 3,432

Requested by:  @something-tofightfor See You in New York Logan, General, Secrets & Lies, Logan’s POV

Logan tugged at his left shirtsleeve, fixing the toggle of the silver rimmed onyx cufflink. He twisted it with his long fingers, pushing it back through the buttonhole to tighten the fit around his wrist. That’s better. His eyes flicked up to the numbers above the elevator door, lighting up as the vessel carried him swiftly to the 38th floor. Leaning back against the shiny railing,  he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and crossed his ankles. Wonder how this is gonna go. He took a breath before letting it slowly out through his nose. Could go a few different ways, depending on… He uncrossed his feet and shifted his weight away from the railing, removing his left hand from his pocket to check the time. This could be good. Or it could be a disaster.  

He’d been preoccupied with the defamation case for the last few weeks, working long hours  with the legal team to prove his innocence, and between that and trying to get caught up on the work that he’d missed while dealing with that, he’d given little to no thought about what today’s introduction would be like or how it might change things. It would be the first time that he would be working with someone so closely that he hadn’t personally chosen or worked with previously, and while he knew the date Cynthia had mentioned as her associate’s start date, Logan hadn’t had time to consider anything else regarding the situation. He trusted Cynthia’s judgement and wanted to believe that the woman wouldn’t send him someone that wouldn’t be a good fit- that she wouldn’t send a goldfish into the shark tank. Annoyed enough already that his father and the rest of the Delos board were insistent upon this being a necessary step, he didn’t want to be locked into 6 months of interaction with someone that he himself would fire in 6 minutes if given the choice. Guess we’ll see. 

The bright white bulb behind the stencil cut 38 lit up and the elevator car came to a smooth stop as the doors opened silently. Logan tilted his head to the right and rolled that shoulder, a small pop coming from somewhere in his neck. He could see Charlie standing a few feet away, an espresso in one hand, his touchpad and a few files stacked and tucked into the crook of his bent elbow, ready to prep Logan for the day’s meetings and deadlines. New to the company, Charlie had just graduated the intern program and Logan had made sure to snatch him up, the young man showing more promise and attention to detail than any other prospective assistant Logan had considered. He was sharp, capable and dedicated without being cocky, pretentious or a kiss-ass. But why does he look like he’s ready to shit a brick? Logan watched the man’s throat undulate as he swallowed, his eyes blinking rapidly as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Mildly concerned, Logan strode from the elevator. Only one way to find out. 

“Mornin’, Charlie,” Logan greeted him with the same relaxed demeanor that he did every morning no matter how stressed, frustrated, exhausted or busy he was. He smiled, taking the coffee that was offered to him in his left hand, right digging his phone from his pocket. “What does today look like?” Aside from meeting my new ball and chain. Quickly entering his passcode to unlock his phone, Logan took a sip of the bitter espresso and opened his calendar. 

Charlie switched the items in his arm as they started walking towards Logan’s office, tucking whatever files he carried under the touch screen tablet. With a few deft swipes that he could have done blindfolded, he opened the same calendar portal so that he could go over Logan’s schedule. “Good morning, Mr. Delos.” He cleared his throat, covering his mouth by making a fist with his free hand before bringing it up to press his pointer finger to his eyebrow, dragging it towards his temple. It was his tell, the dead giveaway that his nerves were bordering on nausea. Terrible poker face, Charlie. “There’s an R & D budgetary meeting at 11. They want to propose some new synthetic materials and software upgrades they’ve been working on.” 

Logan took another sip of espresso, nodding. He approved that meeting on his agenda by highlighting it with one finger, the entry vanishing from Charlie’s screen and showing up in bold font on his own. That could be interesting. Having a hand in the research and development of new technologies for the parks and for other branches of Delos Inc. was one of Logan’s favorite things about his position. Though he didn’t have a degree in engineering, he often contributed to brainstorming sessions combining his experience in the parks with his creative ingenuity to help spark new ideas or solve existing glitches or issues. “Should run about an hour, yeah?” He raised his eyebrows questioningly as he turned to Charlie,  just in time to catch another press and drag of his finger over his forehead. What the fuck is he freaking out about? 

Charlie nodded. “Yup, it should, usually does.” He dropped his hand back to his tablet to swipe at the next item on the list- a conference call with an investor in Paris at noon. Logan groaned internally at that one, but approved it anyway. Turning the corner, they passed Juliet’s office. Her door was closed, but Logan waved to her through the glass wall, raising two fingers on the hand he held his beverage in. Hey, Jul. She was on the phone, a frown creasing her face that only deepened as she pressed her lips together and half-heartedly waved back. Okay, who the fuck died around here? He used the same fingers that he used to wave to his sister to unlock the keypad on his office door, then pushed it open for Charlie to follow him inside. 

“After that you’ve got-” 

Logan closed the door with his elbow, the lock engaging automatically as soon as it clicked shut. Even though two of the four walls that made up the executive offices were glass, the soundproofing made them as private as they needed to be. “Cut the shit, Charlie.” He drained the rest of his espresso and crossed to his desk to toss the empty white cardboard cup into the recycling bin. I know something’s up, so tell me what it is. 

‘Um, well,” Charlie stammered. Logan watched him clench his hand in a fist in an effort not to bring it up to his brow. He shuffled the file he’d been holding beneath the tablet, opening it and pulling out two magazines with obnoxiously bright yellow lettering emblazoned across the top, and photos and headlines collaged all over their covers. “The legal team got them to pull it from their website but…” With a shaky hand, Charlie held out the glossy prints. “I figured you would have seen them already but…” He sighed. 

Is that? Logan’s eyes widened as he reached out and took what Charlie was handing him. But before he’d even turned it around, he knew exactly who he was looking at. That fucking piece of shit. The shiny, waxy paper crumpled beneath his fingers as he flexed them, a hot rush of anger flushing through him. That’s why Jules looked at me like that, he glanced up at his assistant, why he looks like he’s gonna blow. He looked back down at the photo staring up at him, his top lip curling in thick, vicious hatred.  

Ousted Delos Exec Breaks Silence on Sex Scandal Rumors: It Wouldn’t Surprise Me- drugs, debauchery, and other things you didn’t know about Logan Delos as told by his former brother-in-law. 

Fucking William. He flipped to the second cover, scanning a similarly damning headline featuring an equally pathetic looking photo of Juliet’s ex-husband, the man’s complexion looking off, his blond hair long and lanky in appearance. This is low, even for you, you fucking- Logan’s eyes slipped closed and he clenched his jaw. No. Not gonna let this asshole… Exhaling slowly, he dropped the tabloids to his desk and blinked his eyes open. Pulling out his chair, he sat down and set his phone on top of the prints, blocking William’s face. Following the suggestion of his addiction counselor, he’d taken all name notifications down from any publication that didn’t relate strictly to business so he wouldn’t be inundated with opinions on how long his sobriety would last and pictures of him at his worst. So when William’s “tell-all” went to print, Logan knew nothing about it. But I’m not gonna let him get under my skin and fuck around. He’d done enough damage, and now that he’d finally been dealt with, Logan wouldn’t let him gain an inch of real estate in his mind. Not again.  

“Well,” he looked up at the other man and cleared his throat. “Never a dull moment, is there?” Charlie’s mouth opened and closed, his shoulders rising with a breath as though he were going to say something, then deflating as nothing came out. It’s fine, not your fault. Movement behind Charlie caught Logan’s eye as he saw Juliet leaving her office and taking long steps towards his. Here we go. “Listen, Charlie, do me a favor and just accept all my meetings for the day. If anything changes and I need to reschedule anything, I’ll let you know.” Juliet raised her fist to rap her knuckles on his office door, three assertive knocks followed by the muffled call of his name. Charlie raised his eyebrows and gestured towards the door. “Yeah,” Logan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let her in. Wait!” Charlie froze with his hand on the door knob. “You’ll let me know when the rep from the New York firm gets here, right?” 

“Of course. She’s scheduled to be here within the hour.” Great. “Mr. Delos?” Logan tilted his head indicating that Charlie should go on. “I’m sorry about this bullshit. I hope this is the last of it.” 

Logan saw in the man’s eyes that he was being genuine, another trait he valued in his personal assistant. He nodded, the slightest smile of appreciation curving his lips to the side. “Thanks, Charlie.” He stuck his chin out at the door as Juliet knocked again, harder this time. “You better let her in before she breaks it down.” 

Charlie’s hand resumed motion, turning the knob to open the door. He barely sidestepped out of the way as Juliet spilled through, the young assistant skirting around the woman and scurrying out the door and out of the way. “Logan, I’m fucking livid. I’m...this is… how can he still be…” His sister paced around in front of his desk, arms and hands punctuating every words she was saying with their rigid movements. Good morning to you too, sunshine. She turned to him, finally seeing him through the haze of red. “I’m fucking pissed, I’m…” She swallowed then, tears springing to her eyes that Logan knew were caused equally by anger as they were by anything else. He got up and stepped around his desk as she wiped at her eyes. “I’m so sorry he’s still trying to hurt you, Logan, I’m...this is my-” 

That initial swell of hatred built up again as Juliet tried to take the blame for William’s latest stunt. “Hey. Don’t, Jules.” He warned. She sniffed, nodding as a tendril of soft brown hair fell over her eyes. Her slender fingers came up to tuck it back into place as tears still rolled slowly down her cheeks, leaking from dark eyes brimming with frustration and contempt for her ex-husband, sympathy and love for her brother.  “I mean it, don’t. This is not your fault, okay? There’s nothin’ you could have done or not done to stop him from being what he is.” Not after you married him, anyway.

He chased that thought away, wrapping her in a one-armed hug that she returned eagerly. Since Juliet and William’s divorce had gone through roughly one month ago, Logan had been working on repairing his relationship with Juliet, and was just starting to build one with his niece. He looked down at his desk, at a photo taken just a few weeks back of him and Juliet with Emily at the aquarium. Both siblings were pointing to the brightly colored fish and gently swaying coral that filled the enormous tank that they stood in front of, but the one and half year old’s wide tawny eyes were stuck on her uncle. He brought his second arm around his sister and squeezed quickly before letting go. Of course he would have preferred that she listened to him about William in the first place, not just because her disbelief had cut him deeply, but because she could have saved herself from having to have married him. But he’s out now, and I’m not letting him hurt you- either of you- anymore. 

Juliet took a steadying breath and stepped back with a shake of her head. “I’m sorry, I’m just…” she scoffed. “I can’t believe he is Emily’s…” she couldn’t even say the last word. Yeah, me either. “Anyway,” she resumed her pacing, but much more slowly and far less aggressively and Logan returned to his desk chair. “I was on the phone with legal when you got in before. I’m sure Charlie told you that we got the...articles…” she was careful not to use the word story when they both knew that there was no truth to the facts that William claimed to know. “Those were taken down from these two websites.” Logan nodded, leaning against the backrest as he tapped his thumb against the edge of his desk. “Well, we’re slamming them for running it at all after the trial, after you,” she rolled her wrist, looking for the right wording. “Running it after you proved she was lying, well… they’re in deep shit.” As they should be. 

“Good.” Logan sat forward, wetting his lips as he dragged one hand through his hair. It’s been a long day and it’s not even 10 am. He sighed, pushing the tabloids even further to the side of his desk so that he couldn’t see William’s face. 

“Logan?” Juliet looked down at the floor before bringing her eyes level with his. He tilted his head in response. “How are you...are you doing okay? I mean with all of this?” She chewed her bottom lip. It occurred to him that she wasn’t only asking how he was handling the accusation, but also if he showed any signs of falling back down the stairway to hell. 

Surprisingly, even the shock of being dragged through the mud for things he’d never even think of doing hadn’t been enough to push him back over that edge he’d fought three times to climb, this last bout with recovery feeling like it would be his last. I got my sister back, got my family and my company back and… He thought of Emily and how she was the only child in the world he gave two shits about.  He smiled, and though it wasn’t one of unbridled joy and happiness, it didn’t feel forced and that was something. “I’ll be okay, Jules, don’t worry. Besides,” in a display of timing so perfect that he couldn’t have choreographed it better, his phone screen lit up and he pointed at it. “My fairy godmother is here to fix all my bullshit.” He picked up the phone as Juliet actually let out a small laugh. “I’ll fill you in later, yeah?” She nodded and wished him luck before leaving to head back to her own spacious office. The phone in his hand lit up and buzzed again, and he swiped Cynthia’s name to answer. 

“Good Morning,” he answered the call, skipping the formal greeting.

“I’m assuming you saw the trash rags?” She, too, forwent any sort of official bullshit, which was one of the things Logan admired most about her. 

“Sure did. Guess you saw it before it was pulled from the internet?” I wonder what it says… He glanced sidelong at the magazines on his desk and tapped his pointer finger against his phone. 

“Who do you think called your legal team?” Of course you did. “That ex brother-in-law of yours looks like shit in those pictures.” Logan had to laugh at that. He heard the clacking of a keyboard as Cynthia fired off an email while she had him on the line. He does.  

“Thanks, Cyn, I owe you one.” He was vaguely aware of movement outside of his office, the elevator door opening and closing as Charlie escorted a woman- you- out of it. “Speaking of which, I think your rep just got here.” 

“She did. She texted me from your elevator.” Oh. So she’s just like you then. “I wanted to touch base with you one last time before you were introduced.” Interesting. 

Logan watched Charlie guide you towards his office, noting your confident posture, the practiced way that you made the elevator-to-office walk look as though you had done it countless times instead of this being your first time setting foot in the building. Your eyes stayed on Charlie even as she took a sip of the coffee in your hand, sharp and focused. “I’m listening.” 

“She’s the best I’ve got, so you have to trust her. She can be stubborn, like you.” Fantastic. “And in this case you’re going to have to be the one to concede, understand?” Yeah, Cyn, I get it.  “I’m telling you, she’s going to tie this off in such a nice little bow that no one will be able to say a word. And this new layer of garbage with your sister’s ex? Consider it gone, she’ll have a statement prepared by lunch.”

“Sounds great, Cynthia.” I hope you’re right. After three years of dealing with the aftermath of his trip to Westworld with William, depression, addiction, and all the havoc those things wreaked on his personal life and career, Logan was in dire need of a break. Cynthia assured him that she was in fact right, and ended the phone call the exact second that Charlie’s knock came on the door to introduce you to him. Damn. He had to admire Cynthia’s ability to run a well-oiled machine in her firm. And if she stands by this rep then I should, too. 

You’d given him your name, extending your hand to shake in a show of trust, briefly discussed your background and what you already knew about the case. She’s intense. He licked his lips as you rifled through the file that you carried, the deep burgundy polish on your nails standing in stark contrast to the manila folder as you pulled out page after page of preliminary drafting that you’d done for a blueprint back into the good graces of the dear old public. This is gonna work, she’s gonna- 

“Is that?” You pointed to the two tabloids still sitting on his desk, not waiting for his answer, simply striding over to pick them up. Oh, alright. “These are ridiculous, and the fact that he went to this level speaks volumes about the type of person he is.” You’re right. You shook your head muttering. “Garbage people in these damn garbage… does this thing do cross cut? And can it take staples?” What? Yeah, it- You were pointing at the industrial strength paper shredder located next to his desk, and again without waiting for him to answer, you pressed a button on the machine and sent both magazines through the slot, teeth catching the thick paper and slicing it to ribbons. 

“Guess I’m not reading those.” 

“You don’t need to,” you shrugged, a spark in your eye catching his attention. “They’re lies, right?” 

“They are.” He watched the remains of the magazine crumple and curl into confetti, William’s face and words obliterated before his eyes. 

“Then what they say doesn’t matter.” You smiled and pulled your phone from your pocket, tapping the screen to answer a message as you took a sip of your coffee, tossing your empty cup on top of his in the bin. Finished with the message you were sending, you put your phone away and reorganized the file you brought with you. “Now,” Logan watched the way your left eyebrow lifted as a determined tone entered your voice. “Should we get started?”

.

.

.

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[dis--parity]

Interview 03-IO/GW-██

TRANSCRIPT -- Interrogation session 03-IO/GW-██

Date: ████ of █████, 20██

Interrogator on site: Captain ████ Raynes

Transcription Correspondent: Agent ███████ Brewer

Begin recording at 1000 HRS.

S001, ‘Garis’,  awaits in the interrogation chamber, appearing fatigued, but stable.

Interrogator agent Raynes is cleared to attempt interrogation.

Interrogator Raynes enters the interrogation chamber. Door is locked.

Begin Questioning.

Garis: Guess we know the drill by now. So… what you got for us this time?

Raynes: Well, surprisingly… our team recovered quite a lot of paperwork. Your cult leader didn’t really seem to have the due diligence to burn it.

Garis: So… lots of stuff we didn’t know about, then? Like what?

Raynes: Cryptocurrency transactions, recruitment figures, personal expenses… the brand name doubled as a money-laundering front for some people your… leader, was associated with, it looks like. Other than that… he was a gambler. Day-trader, broker, conman… you name it.

Garis: Oh, there’s a fair few fucking names we’d use for that degenerate piece of filth. … hey, there’s one of them just now.

Raynes: I’m with you there. I already told about what we found in that pudding - looks like he used the same stuff on himself. Him and Rosenfeld. You think… maybe he wanted to believe his own lies?

Garis: More likely he was just a junkie. Both of them. Using people like us to bring in the dirty money, doing whatever they please and letting the others do the same, ‘cause as long as they make a profit-

Raynes: Hey, hey, hey. I get it. Chill. They were greedy bastards, secret’s out, but they’re dead now. Speak ill of ‘em all you want, but… I’m afraid there’s more. That pudding they gave you? For both you in the cult and the general populace, they put blood in it.

Garis: I-... blood? Like-... my blood?

Garis appears to become nauseous at the concept. They take out a lozenge that agent Raynes had previously provided them with and suck on it.

Raynes: Yeah. Possibly… those blood donations went into it. Mr. Whittock-... Judas, wanted to study the effects of the blood of the young on the aging process using a large sample. When he got something solid, he was gonna sell it to all kinds of people. Politicians, criminals, all kinds of people who were past their prime. Another profit incentive.

Garis: And a way to keep the old and corrupt in power. Fuck… that- you destroyed all that, right?

Raynes: I can’t confirm or deny that.

Note: It’s destroyed. I saw to it myself.

Garis: So… you’ve got all this from those documents. Why are we still here? Just for the hell of it?

Raynes: There’s still a few questions I need to ask you. One of them is about the, ah... possible terrorist motives of the cult. Given everything I’ve just told you, everything Judas looked like he was building up to… why the sudden change of heart? Why order a shipment of weapons so conspicuously?

Garis: We-... we can’t say for sure. Not from our perspective, but… there were-... we got messages from the God in the Numbers around the same time we all received what I later found out were weapons. It… it wasn’t Judas that was talking.

Raynes: So… the other one. Elijah?

Garis: We were... doped up, all of us. Same thing they always did to us, but we knew. I knew. Gale knew. And his voice-... the voice- Elijah, he was the one the God in the Numbers spoke from. We all got our guns, told they would… told it was the rapture. We didn’t know what it meant at the time, but I heard what people thought. That we’d go out and show these ‘relics’ to the world, redeem them in the eyes of God. But… we alone felt the cold steel of a nine millimeter in our hands.

Raynes: But… why do this? Haemolife was more or less off the radar until that weapons shipment came in.

Garis: … I think that was the point where they finally factored Gale in. Someone who could get past that barrier, someone who had the willpower to defy the God in the Numbers. Someone who didn’t have the same fear Iris did. They knew… they knew she’d blab eventually. Desperate times, maybe.

Raynes: And the way Rosenfeld took desperate measures was to initiate a terrorist attack before you could expose the truth?

Garis: No - not to take everyone else out. To destroy everyone in the know - myself included. Maybe something changed along the way, maybe they realised your CIA was onto them. Either way… it was the end for all of us.

Raynes: Even the ones cross country… shit. They were prepared for this. Shit… I mean… you told me about your parents. I guess you didn’t leave anyone behind, at least

S001 grimaces at these words. Their mood appears to be taking a turn for the worse.

Garis: … we did. Fuck. I did. We… couldn’t even say goodbye. We knew what was happening, and-... we pushed him away. We didn’t want to drag him into this, too.

Raynes: Who?

Garis sighs.

Garis: … his name was Alex. He was there for us. If it wasn’t for him, we might not be Garis now. He showed us the best of times, and stuck with us in the worst of times. He knew… he knew about what we truly went through, we told him. And he helped us anyway. Loved us anyway. He-....

Garis pauses for a brief moment. Their face looks almost guilty.

Garis: They, told me about how their dad used to isolate them socially, stick them to one place, and how they grew jealous of all the other kids who had parents who loved them, parents who took them places instead of keeping them cooped up in their rooms, parents that… didn’t have any agreement between each other to do what they wanted to their children. Together, we figured out ways to fight back against our respective abusers. I was able to defy the God in the Numbers because of them. Because of their... humanity, that nobody else showed us. Fuck… all that time, we thought we were saving them. But, now we’re together, we realise… they were saving us. If they became a target…

Raynes: … tell me something. If there’s something you could say to them right now, if they’re alive, if they could listen... what would it be?

Garis hesitates. Agent Brewer detects this conversation is becoming too personal in nature, but the interrogator is owed some leeway.

Garis: … I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain to you what was happening, Alex. But… you saved my life. I wish I knew where you were, and I promise one day we’ll find a way to talk to each other again, someway, somehow, and I’ll tell you, once and for all… thank you.

Note: Raynes has taken all the leeway he’s getting.

Agent Brewer enters the interrogation chamber.

Brewer: Raynes, what are you doing?! This isn’t helping us, we’ve gotten everything we need! Now let’s move on to the next stage already, and-

Raynes: William! Get back to your post, I told you I’d handle this.

Brewer: Oh, because you’ve handled everything so fucking well so far, haven’t you?

Garis: Hey, shut the fuck up, goatee!

Raynes: Yeah, shut the fuck up! Finish up that transcript and we’ll take it outside the interrogation chamber. We’ll move onto the wrap up once you’ve got that shit out your system.

Garis: The… ‘wrap up’? What is this? What have you got planned now, CIA?

Raynes: … I guess we’ll see for ourselves. Please, go back to your cell. Things are gonna work themselves out - starting right now.

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

The summertime of our lives, 1/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 1/?.

Pairings: Ninetoo x Rose.

A/N: Written for @doctorroseprompts summer bingo. Five summer-themed words: Ice-cream, Beach, Swim, Boat, Surprise (BINGO!). Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” - William Shakespeare.

CHAPTER 1:

The last few months had been hard for him. He had had to get used to this new condition. The half human part of him was bothering him a lot because it felt like a regression. One day, he was a superior being; the next day, he was an ordinary human with all the inconveniences it caused: too cold in winter – he almost went in hypothermia because he stayed too long in the snow without warm clothes – too hot when the temperatures were climbing, easily sick – first and last time he was getting a damn flu! Everything was wrong in the body of a human and he was thanking Gallifrey, Rassilon and all the stars of the galaxy for his Time Lord side. He was cleverer than normal but the silence in his head was unbearable. It was worse than after the war. Back then, he had the TARDIS. She was filling the holes, filling the silence. A silence that had driven him mad. At first, he had hidden it from Rose, from her family. She had a job, had her habits, her routine. He was staying home alone, pacing around, pulling on the little hair he had. He suffered from panic attacks, hurt himself. Once, he harmed himself so badly that Rose had to take him to Torchwood to have him healed properly without questions. After that, he had told her the truth. She was staying home with him and sitting on the couch, his head on her lap. She would stroke her temple and speak or read to him for hours. When she couldn’t be home, she recorded her voice on a music device and he would listen to it until the battery died and he was left with nothing but the silence. He had quickly learnt how to use the television and watched the worst filths that could air until Rose came home and found him sprawled on the couch. He had had to find something else, something that would keep him busy, that would soothe his mind. He tried sports – after nine centuries of running, staying home and doing nothing had him losing his nice shape – small jobs – but they all threw him out when he proved to be more intelligent than everyone – walks around a town he didn’t recognise. He inexplicably got his driving licence, babysat, helped people in the streets, played music, invented new scientific theories but nothing was really working. It was only temporary. Until he found out about gardening: diving his hands in earth, holding the tiny seeds, planting them, watering them, watching until they blossomed. Rose found him several times at night, covered in mud, observing the small stems and leaves. She would come to him and force him out of the garden and in the shower. Torchwood had provided him with a brand new identity. A human identity. He was named Maxence Spitz and was born on February 16, 1982. Which was a total lie. He was much older. But he was going with it. As long as Rose kept calling him Doctor, he wasn’t too confused. Having a real name was easier when you had to live a human life. It was harder than a thought it was. He used to be afraid of many things as a Time Lord. These fears he had often mocked Rose and Martha and Donna about were his now and that was absolutely terrific. He couldn’t reason his mind. Whenever he tried thinking about something else, he was always coming back to this particular thought. Rose said that winter tended to sadden people and that summer would fix it all. But summer was taking all its time to come and the Doctor was desperate for these better days to come. What he hadn’t been told was that summer was only a season. It wasn’t three months of just wandering around and enjoying life. Rose only had a couple weeks of holidays and that frustrated him to be forced to stay home while she was working for them to be able to live properly without Pete’s help. Money ruled the world, no matter the universe you were in and he had none. This was really getting to him and nothing could take away the weight of hi unworthiness that was a little heavier every day. ‘You can’t stay like this,’ had declared Rose after finding him once again slouched on the couch. He didn’t know what she meant until she started taking him with her everywhere like he was her lapdog and he didn’t like that very much. He quickly rebelled against her and refused to do that ever again. This was their first and biggest argument. An argument where he unleashed all his rage, his resentment, his frustration, his pain. And she took it all square in the face. It wasn’t what he wanted and he hated him himself even more when she silently passed the door and left their flat, left him alone to deal with his stupidity, to deal with this anger he had always had in him, with his loath. What was he supposed to do with that? What was he supposed to do with himself? He totally let himself go. He spent his time pacing around the couch for hours and barely slept. Eating, drinking, showering weren’t his main priorities. He was more resistant than an ordinary human but such a treatment wasn’t good, even for a half Time Lord and so, he ended up with hallucinations, dizziness and constant nausea. And when Rose came back home, she found him crazed and sprawled on the couch. It took him a couple days to get better and all this time, she was watching over him and taking care of him. It was as if they never fought that day. It was like one of those days in the beginning of their life together here. Simple, quiet, perfect. He was in bed, cursing himself and his stupid behaviour and she was sitting beside him, his head on her lap, her hand stroking his temple as she sang a song he didn’t know at all. She dropped a kiss on his forehead. “I’ve taken a leave. I’m staying with you until the end of it. Pete’s okay with that.” “Why do you do that?” She just smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She continued her strokes on his temple. It felt good, good enough for him to relax and close his eyes. Only a couple of minutes. That was a fact that was bothering him a lot: being half human resulted in him needing more sleep. As a Time Lord, he only needed one hour of sleep here and there whenever he felt like to. Now he needed a couple hours of sleep every day. Less than a human but it was a loss of time in his opinion. Something else that was also very human caused him to wake up suddenly: hunger. He was hungry all the bloody time and was putting on weight. A little bit but that was enough for him to notice it. The smell he woke up to wasn’t gonna help him with that. A whole lunch was waiting for him on the bedside table. His eyes, however, caught sight of something much more interesting. Suitcases. Closed suitcases that seemed very, very full. And one of them, there was a bettered leather jacket. He swallowed the lump in his throat. This was the last piece of his life as a Time Lord. The old jacket he was wearing as a shield against everything and everyone that could get too close to him, that could hurt him more. That other Doctor… he had handed it to him before disappearing. That pretty boy Rose would have preferred finishing her life with instead of him. He had never worn that jacket ever since. It was laying around on a coat hanger in a wardrobe he was not even opening. He had put it as far from him as he could. He didn’t want to see for it reminded him too much of his past as a traveller, of everything he had lost. He was still not ready to wear it again. Unless… Could those suitcases be for Rose? She said she had taken a leave, that she would stay with him but… what if she had decided to leave in the end? After all, he had never been the one she wanted. He sat up slowly. A few hours of sleep had done him lots of good but he wasn’t well enough to do much. He needed food and water but he was too stubborn to cooperate when his girlfriend was about to leave him! He awkwardly stood up and reeled to the bathroom. He rinsed his face and carefully avoided his reflection in the small mirror hung above the sink. He looked as terrible as he felt. No need to confirm that theory. He turned his back on the mirror and sighed. He ignored if he could go back to the room. Probably. He felt stable enough to walk despite his weakness. He reached the door, leant on it a couple seconds. Rose was in the room. She was adding stuff on the suitcases in neat piles. Stuff that belonged to her but also to him. Luggage for them. What was she up to? He said nothing but gripped the frame of the door. He had to eat something, to send some sugar in his veins. “Don’t stay there. Come over and have a bite.” She pointed to the food before opening a suitcase – her – and stuffing it with what she had brought. He reeled to the bed and let himself fall there. He swallowed a first mouthful of food to please her. Once again, she was thrilling his taste buds. She was a better cook than he would ever be. Not that she was bad. He could cook but it was too domestics for him. “So, what’s the plan?” “What plan?” “The suitcases. The jacket. Going somewhere?” “You and I, both.” The idea was enthralling. He ate some more, watched her pack their things. That process was unknown to him. Why packing when you had a spaceship with everything on board? A sentient ship supplying your every need? He really missed the TARDIS sometimes and the lump in his throat was back now that he was thinking of her. They usually avoided the subject but when Rose noticed the look on his face, she came and sat by his side on the bed, a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I haven’t been more present for you.” “I should be sorry to give you so much to worry about.” “You’re sounding like Donna.” “I’m much better at self-depreciation.” Rose squeezed his shoulders. She hated when he was speaking like this. She was often mocking him with that and he would become his usual sarcastic self. Donna was an exceptional human but she had a very particular way of expressing herself. “That’s all the point. Half human, half Time Lord. A right hand that doesn’t belong to that body. I don’t know who I am, what I am supposed to do. I’m stuck here all day with no purpose.” He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. “I’m stranded in a universe that isn’t mine, deprived from my ship, from my life; I have a fake name.” He paused. He was mumbling for himself now. “Who am I? What am I supposed to do?” Rose lay on her side, snuggled against him. She put her head on his shoulder, pressed her hand on his single heart. For a moment, she stayed silent, just listening to the questions floating in the air. A new old Doctor, yes. But a new breed of Time Lord, of human. Something that had never happened before. Someone who shouldn’t exist in this universe. He was going through an existential crisis. She had gone through the same when she arrived here. He just didn’t know. “But you’ve got the woman you love.” “I’m not the one she wants. I’m just the pretty boy’s right hand.” “He’s not the one I fell in love with,” she cried out, sitting up. “He’s not the one who took my hand ad made me run in this life of wonders. You are! And that hand,” she grabbed his right hand, intertwined their fingers, held it tight. “that very hand is yours. I’ve held it many times and I can tell it’s yours and not his.” He was very clever but he couldn’t get why she was getting so passionate upon his questions. He had just expected her to listen, to comfort him like they always did. But this was upsetting her mire than he thought. There was more to it and he just wanted for her to continue. “The pretty boy like you call him was more interested in mysteries and other women. It was nice for him to have someone to travel with but he was careless. He wasn’t as protective of me as you were. I found myself in danger many more times and thankfully you taught me how to survive to the worst threats, to handle myself when I wandered off. I missed that Northern Doctor that was sometimes rude to other species.” The Doctor looked at their tied hands. His gaze lingered on his right hand, the one that had never appeared to him like his, this hand that was too large, these fingers that were long and thin, almost skeletal, those too light hairs. He observed it as Rose was peaking about Madame de Pompadour and how she waited for hours for the pretty boy to come back after he left her and Ricky on an adrift spaceship with clockwork droids wanting to kill them. The hand didn’t look so foreign to him anymore. It was less skin, more fleshy and fatter, long but sausage fingers, fingertips and nails in bad shape, palms calloused. Definitely his hand. The exact twin of his left hand. He placed this left hand over his and Rose’s hands. He squeezed them, a silent way to tell her that he understood now, that he could see it. Rose stopped talking and gave him a smile where he could see all her relief. She loved him, she chose him. They would find their way together.

x

Next thing he knew, they were on the road toward their destination for the rest of the summer. Apparently, being the daughter of the boss had some good advantages, like having unlimited holidays. She had a friend, she said, in a small town in the Jurassic Coat in Dorset. Some town called Broadchurch. It was the tourist season and there was nothing available anymore except for this small shack very close to the sea. A stack that belonged to that D.I. Alec Hardy. Obviously, the Doctor had googled the name – if googling stuff still applied in a world where the search engine didn’t exist – and found out that the guy had an uncanny resemblance with the pretty boy. Which didn’t please him much. Especially since Rose had admitted that they saw each other a couple times. It was over now. Definitely over. It had been a long time before he arrived in this universe and yet, he felt jealous because she tried forgetting him in the arms of someone else. Broadchurch was a nice little town though. Everyone greeted Rose with smiles and he sometimes felt like a stranger in her life. She never let go of his hand as she drove to the small shack. She parked as close as she could and they unloaded the car. The keys were waiting for them in one of those boxes with a code, a code Rose had received after renting the place. They settled down in this lovely little place. “What do you think of a walk around before dinner?” “Sounds nice.” Yet, his voice wasn’t very enthusiastic. He was still on the ‘Alec Hardy + Rose Tyler’ affair. Nothing was really done. Not ever. Time was just a loop and they were doing the same things and the making the same mistakes over and over again. This was bothering him a lot and he was brooding all along their walk in the port. Hands in pockets, he wasn’t finding any satisfaction in anything despite the beauty of everything. He liked the town better than London. Quieter, smaller, better smelling. Not a sign of pollution. Just the fresh air of the port town. And then, there was an ice-cream truck and Rose was tugging on his arm like a child and looking at him with pleading eyes. “You’re buying? Please?” “No money.” Such a parody of their first date – if you could call that a date – made him smile and all his bad mood was gone. That was one of the things she loved about him, his ability to change his mood so easily. She nudged him, calling him a liar for she was always giving him money to have on him. It was just in case he would need it, even if he was refusing to use what he called her money. He gave in eventually and bought her a three balls cone: strawberry, raspberry and vanilla. “What?” she asked when she saw him observing her. His bemused smile betrayed him of course. He slipped a finger in the already melting ice-cream and sucked it playfully in response to her offended look. He did it slowly, very slowly, and his smile widened when her pupils became as black as coal. He plunged his finger in the ice-cream again and licked it. Very, very slowly. And Rose decided to enter the game. She sucked on the ice-cream left on her cone eagerly, sensually and flirtatiously. He reacted the exact way she did: his eyes turned black, his flesh covered itself in goosebumps and his cock became uncomfortably hard. When she ate the last bit of the cone, her face had marks of frozen strawberry, raspberry and vanilla around the lips. Immediately, he swooped down on her to kiss her and lick the ice-cream off her face. Her hand quickly slipped from his shoulder to the back of his neck and she pulled him closer, pressed her body against his chest. Things were heating up fast and his hand grabbed her thigh. Her groan was muffled by his mouth and their making out was suddenly interrupted by the clearing of a throat. They could have been embarrassed but they just stepped back with smiles on their faces. The Doctor’s faded instantaneously when he saw the intruder. He contained his disdain and jealousy as Rose greeted her friend, Alec Hardy, and just nodded a salute when he was introduced. “I have what you’ve asked me.” The voice was different from the pretty boy. Well. It has the same tessitura but the accent was awfully Scottish and there was a tone that wasn’t the kind one used by the new Doctor. If anything, those two men were diametrically different. They only shared the same features. Alec didn’t say more about the mysterious demand. He just dropped keys in Rose’s hand and left. He had showed up at the shack but they weren’t there. He had seen them on his way home and stopped to give the bunch of keys to Rose. She pocketed it with a look of mischief. His eyebrow raised so hard on his large forehead that they could have gotten lost in the fringe he didn’t have contrarily to D.I. Alec Hardy. Rose pushed him slightly to chase this jealousy away. She gave him a tongue-touching smile and while he was struggling with the spell she was casting on him, she ran away. “Oi! Not fair!” He often forgot that she was just a kid when he had swept her off her feet and dragged her across the universe. She had grown up quickly because of him, gained in maturity and this universe had made her a very independent woman but deep down, she was still the pink and yellow girl who loved having fun. And what was the point of growing up if you couldn’t be childish at times? He shook his head, laughing, and chased her along the pedestrian trails of Broadchurch. Grass, rocks, dry earth left for sand and it became harder to run after Rose whose cheerful laugh was ringing to his ears. Once again, he was forced to admit that he was nothing more than an ordinary human. His legs were heavy and he was breathless in no time. Soon, he was compelled to stop running. He put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. He was still discovering his limits and hated more than everything else when he was confronted to them. Rose caught him by surprise and jumped on his back, causing him to lose his balance and bit the sand. He tried to protest but only managed to swallow more sand. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Rose and exchanged their spot. He lay her down on the sand and stabilised himself above her. He needed a moment to cough the sand out of his human lungs and she used that time to reverse the part again. Only to be back under him. She was laughing heartfully and he couldn’t help but laugh too. Everything was forgotten and forgiven. Now was all about fun and love and not giving a fuck about people on the beach who were looking at them.

x

People were leaving and the were still sat there in the sand, watching the water licking the beach, going back and forth. They were silent. They didn’t have anything to say at the moment. They were just enjoying the present moment. The Doctor had his arm around Rose’s and she had her head on his shoulder. “Feeling better?” “About what?” “About letting yourself die because I was gone. You were nearly dead when I found you this morning.” “You’re exaggerating.” “You’d let yourself die if I was gone?” “Wouldn’t be fast enough.” He pulled her closer to him, wrapped her into a tight embrace she couldn’t escape from. “You’d have to take me with you.” “Together?” She snuggled closer to him. It was getting dark now and they hadn’t eaten yet. They didn’t feel like moving. It felt like time had stopped its course for them to have that precious moment they needed. “Forever.” He smiled and kissed her head tenderly. There were many questions that needed answers but it wouldn’t be for tonight. Not too much anxiety in one day. He had had enough already. However, the Doctor was no man to stay in one place for too long. He was soon up to his feet. He shrugged his unzipped hoodie off and got rid his shoes and socks. Rose titled her head on the side, wondering what he was doing. Until he plunged in the fresh water and swam. He was far enough to only be a dark figure to her when he waved at her with a large grin. “Come over!” he yelled at her. She shook her head, smiling, and he kept waving at her. She tried to warn him about the way the water was moving. The currents could be dangerous. He, of course, should know better. He used to be a – very bad – pilot driving though the course of the vortex, which was as tempestuous as the sea. It seemed quiet but it wasn’t. He was tossed about by the water and soon it engulfed him as if he was nothing more than a floating branch. Immediately, she was on her feet, had taken off her shoes and jacket before plunging in the water. She swam desperately to reach him before he drowned. He could hold his breath for a while – at least, his Time Lord twin could. He didn’t know his limits, didn’t know when to stop and… He resurfaced right before her with that manic grin she usually loved. She slapped his shoulder to make him pass the envy of doing that again. “I thought you were drowning!” “Me? Never!” She slapped his shoulder again and pushed his head under water to give him a lesson but he only played the fool and pretend to be drowning until he really was and she had to drag him back to the beach and do a mouth-to-mouth and when he coughed the water out of his lungs, she called him an idiot, yelled at him and he only smiled at her as her heart softened. She loved him, she cared for him, she didn’t want to lose him. That was him and no one else.

x

There was a small paper boat on the edge of the window that morning. Everything was new, unfamiliar and exciting by the was intrigued by this paper boat made of newspaper. The light was shining right onto it. He was absolutely fascinated by this cute origami. He heard the water, its swells rolling under the fragile paper hull, and smelt the salty air of the ocean. His heart cried out for adventures. He imagined himself standing on the deck, on the very edge, and watching the horizons for him to discover them. The wind would whip his face and engulf in his clothes. It would lead him to an unknown destination where he would have the time of his lives, running away from troubles, discovering new things, making new friends. That’s how his life had always been after he stole that type 40 TARDIS, even after the war. He had always been sailing toward novelty and adventures. He didn’t realise he was crying until a hand wiped away a salty pearl of water on his cheek. The touch was soft and gentle on him. The woman to whom the hand belonged to appeared in his field of vision and hid the small origami from him. He didn’t lean in her touch but he didn’t push her hand away either. She traced the features of his face, the wrinkles of his forehead, his large ear, his jaw, his chin. Her face showed the concern she had about him, about his reactions. No words were pronounced. Not one. He never said anything, always kept it all for himself and she just did with it. Everything was different now. Their relationship was different. They were supposed to share everything. Domestics. Something he had to be taught about. He was an adventurer, a traveller. Not someone you could keep locked in a cute house with a white fence and a small garden. It was suffocating him, drowning in a life he had once dreamt of for Rose and himself. “Breathe, Doctor.” The hand was on his cheek. He drifted back to the present moment, focused on his breathing until it was back to a reasonable rhythm. His single heart was aching. It was crushed. Typical of a panic attack. Symptoms of anxiety. He was used to them but he wasn’t used to have someone to help him through them. Rose never saw him vulnerable. Until he arrived here. “Looking for you, crossing the universes to find you, that’s what helped me when I arrived here.” “And now?” “Now I’ve got you. The only person I ever wanted to be with.” “And you don’t need more?” “I want the adventures, the stars, the travels. I miss it. But having you is worth the sacrifice.” “I’ve wanted this life with you. All we have here. But I’m not sure I’m made for this.” “Let’s become defenders of the Earth. This universe is also suffering from invasions, attacks, secrets and no one is better than you for this.” “Except for you.” “I’ve had a great teacher.” “How do we defend Earth without a TARDIS, a sonic?” “You might be surprised at how easy it is.” Rose got up and picked the leather jacket from the hook on the door. She sat cross-legged on the bed. He sat up, wondering what she was up to. She put her hand in the right pocket and looked for something inside. She pulled out a small silver tube. His heart stopped beating a couple seconds. It couldn’t be… She grabbed his hand and placed the tube in his palm. Black bottom, grey cracked paint on the middle, blue tip. He folded his fingers around the gey metallic device to make sure it was real. It looked real. “After you changed, I kept the jacket. I was sleeping with it sometimes, just to have the feeling of your arms around me. I thought that was why he gave it back to you, because it was familiar and comforting. Until I found this in the pocket. You would have been too proud to accept it if he had given it to you that day so he found an alternative. The sonic doesn’t make the Doctor but of that makes you feel better…” He had never thought he would hold this precious artefact ever again, nor that he would be able to use it. It was fully charged and ready for adventures that would never come. He smiled sadly but didn’t let go of it. He would keep it as a lucky charm or as a trinket. He had been living an almost normal life since he was here. If he chose the facility option now, he would never find happiness and peace. “A captain is worth nothing without a ship.” “Good thing I’ve kept that in my sleeve.” He raised an eyebrow and she gave him a mischievous smile. She brandished keys in front of his nose, the exact keys that Alec Hardy gave her the previous day. There was an orange plastic tag on the ring. It was written ‘Vortex’ on it. A very strange name to give to keys. “I couldn’t convince them to call it ‘TARDIS’ or ‘Gallifrey’. They accepted ‘Vortex’ though. Sounds nice.” “So you have a vehicle called ‘Vortex’?” “Not an ordinary vehicle.” She gave him another one of those smiles and took his hand. She forced him out of the bed where he was in nothing else but his boxers and led him outside. He shivered when the chilly morning wind reached him. Bloody human condition. His favourite blonde pointed to the horizon, to a large black spot on the sea. The silhouette of a boat. “That’s Pete’s yacht. He accepted to lend it to us for all the time we’ll be here. They dropped anchor in the bay a couple days ago and gave the keys to Alec.” “I don’t know what to say.” “You’ve got your ship, captain.” That for a surprise! That was the biggest surprise of the year. He was rarely speechless but he was right now. Rose Tyler, his pink and yellow girl, definitely knew how to make him feel better…

A suivre

The summertime of our lives © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

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English version:

AO3 ||TS.

[its-my-little-dumpster-fire]

I would very much like Williams face to be shredded into ribbons but my children, is murder. It would also take lots of planning and clean up, so technically it would be murder in the second degree, the worst by far. I wish there was a sixth degree. That’s the level of murder I’d like to bestow upon that flaxen faced douche canoe.

But alas. Cynthia has sent in a lady wolf to do something better- redeem Logan and kiss his stupid pretty face.

Cross Cut

A/N: Another in the Play the Hand You’re Dealt event, this takes a look at the day Logan met his buzzkill from his point of view, and what you did that made him sure that you were the right person for this job. 

Warning: language. and William’s face, gross. 

Word Count: 3,432

Requested by:  @something-tofightfor See You in New York Logan, General, Secrets & Lies, Logan’s POV

Logan tugged at his left shirtsleeve, fixing the toggle of the silver rimmed onyx cufflink. He twisted it with his long fingers, pushing it back through the buttonhole to tighten the fit around his wrist. That’s better. His eyes flicked up to the numbers above the elevator door, lighting up as the vessel carried him swiftly to the 38th floor. Leaning back against the shiny railing,  he slid his hands into the pockets of his pants and crossed his ankles. Wonder how this is gonna go. He took a breath before letting it slowly out through his nose. Could go a few different ways, depending on… He uncrossed his feet and shifted his weight away from the railing, removing his left hand from his pocket to check the time. This could be good. Or it could be a disaster.  

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