red2007

[red2007]

Everyone is assuming Rose Noble named herself that because the Ten part of her, inherited by the metacrisis, loved Rose so damn much. And yeah, that might be true or part of it, but let's not forget how significant Rose was to Donna. Because ROSE was the one following Donna from day dot of her adventures with the Doctor. ROSE was the one who sought Donna out in an alternative reality in which Donna had forgotten the Doctor (for the second time, if you count her experience being saved by the Library). ROSE was the one in that reality to tell her she was brilliant and important and belonged with the Doctor, NEEDED to be with The Doctor, AND he needed HER. And ultimately, it was Rose who helped her to get back to him. Rose told her she was brave and capable and could find a way. So while it's possible that Rose Noble named herself after Rose Tyler because Ten loved her so much, it's equally possible that the metacrisis part of Donna that Rose Noble inherited was trying to remind herself/her mother of the weird blonde woman who stalked her across dimensions, insisted that she remember (The Doctor, their adventures together and HER own importance) and returned Donna to her rightful place at the side of The Doctor. The suppressed memory of Rose Tyler inherited by Rose Noble is another indication that Donna Noble wanted to remember, (re)remind herself and return to the Doctor again.

[red2007]

In The Fields Of Boaz by @aloysiavirgata

Read by @red2007

Please leave the author a comment if you enjoyed their story 😘

[red2007]

Yay yay!

For all of the anons who have asked for more in The Fisher King universe, here you go. New chapter below, main fic linked.

***

A man takes a woman and she disappears. It’s an old story.

The media will tell you she’s pretty, always. Sometimes she is and sometimes she isn’t, but she’s given the grace in her tragedy.

Dana is, though. In the way of Celtic priestesses and Roman goddesses and Renaissance women so achingly beautiful they were allowed to let their hair flow like corn. Like gold. Like rivers.

She has cheekbones like granite hillsides in winter.

Like Persephone in spring.

***

“She’s dead,” says the Captain. Says Margaret. Says Bill. Charlie calls with non-committal love from from Venezuela. Charlie calls with non-committal love from Norway.

If she’s alive she’s raped. She’s tortured, she’s broken But Catholics love the sanctified dead.

“She’s alive,” says Melissa, over an uncut celadon nested in a swirl of tarot cards..

Tara looks away in disgust. In fear.

****

Duane Barry was Mulder’s own particular monster, his brother in arms and paranoia.

An empty place in him wants to welcome Barry, wants him to fill the lacuna of Samantha. He imagines smoothing neatly over him, like spackling drywall.

But Barry takes Dana and, that, Mulder cannot forgive. He wants to hurt Barry for a long time in a way that they discuss in hushed awed voices after battlefield frenzies. He wants all of Barry’s insides on the outside, twitching and wet.

He gathers Dana’s animals to him, brings them into his home. He strokes their fur in his bed, he loves their angled predators’ faces that, like his, have eyes at the front of their heads.

***

Mulder fucks a suspect with the mindless short term satisfaction of scratching a mosquito bite until it bleeds. He hates himself and god, it’s good, the hating. He fucks her below the pagan sun and the Captain’s god and dares the universe to punish him. It’s a ripped hangnail, it’s his tongue against a toothache, it’s boxer briefs against a hardon at his desk.

He suffers with relish and, like most of the Scullys, he believes that his suffering will provoke tenderness from the universe. He bites the golden cross like an X-ray plate.

He wonders if anyone can see inside him at all.

***

He claps Bill on the back at the airport. He kisses Tara’s silky cheek, smells her knockoff Chanel #5.

Bill looks at him like a boy at Christmas, like Mulder’s the Grownup and can promise him everything.

“I love my sister,”. Bill says, as though it’s a shibboleth.

“So do I,” Mulder replies.

It’s the first time he talks about someone else’s sister and means it.

***

She turns up at the hospital like a message in a bottle. She is soft and pale and bloated and alive. He kisses her cheek like a Torah. He kisses her cheek like the earth of his true homeland.

***

Mulder holds a vigil for her as though she’s bound to Yggdrasil. Nine days and nine nights and perhaps she’s gained all knowledge. Perhaps she understands the runes.

Or maybe he does - who is the sacrifice and who is the sacrificed? Odin, spear-pierced, died for himself like Dana’s own god.

Melissa holds her sister’s hand. She holds his hand too, at the same time, her mass of red hair like ivy in the fall. She murmurs nothingness to the cold white stone of the moon.

“The moon is female,” Melissa confides to him at 2 AM over cheap wine and shrimp fried rice. “She’s the spiritual mother-guardian off all women.”

He says that he agrees, because it’s as true as any other fucking thing.

Margaret’s gaze is the sky before a shuttle launch, the Captain’s handshake the last thing you feel before your soul is ferried across the Acheron and the Styx.

Odin gave up his eye for the deep knowledge. Mulder would give up his eye for surety of her safety. He’ll give up both for what he brought to her. He understands why people suffer for communion with their gods now.

He understands why they surrendered hearts to bleed down the stones. He understands that prayers are a way to articulate fear.

***

Dana opens her eyes like a Marian apparition.

“Mulder?” she says, frowning.

He feels her voice the way magnets feel true north. “Hi,” he breathes, after days of planning the perfect response for this moment.

She blinks. “Did I fall asleep?” she mumbles. “Where are we? What happened?”

He kisses her knuckles, the delicate papyrus inside of her blue-tinted wrist. He marvels at the engineering of her thumb.

“You took a nap,” he says, rather breathless. Rather choked.

“Mmmm,” Dana says. She laces her fingers through his, she curls onto her side. She takes in the hospital room, frowning.

Then she seems to remember. “Ohhhh,” she whispers, eyes wide. “Am I okay?”

He nods. “Nothing serious.”

Mulder watches her breathing, watches her come back to life. He’ll press the call button in a moment, will alert the cavalry. He will make the Appropriate Telephone Calls.

Through the open blinds he sees the moon peer in. He says a prayer of thanks to its blank silver face, just in case Melissa is right.

[red2007]

every damn time...

[red2007]

I can't wait until the poll is Kirk/Spock v MSR. Because they're both history makers and the former was the first.

[red2007]

This was a whole ass delight and unearthed entire AV worlds I never knew existed.

Especially this one.

The absolutely crazy and amazing and WONDERFUL @red2007 organized all of my little inbox prompts and ficlets and TAGGED THEM ALL AND UPDATED MY INBOX PROMPT SERIES ON AO3 FOR ME.

I just…this fandom, man. The best people. The absolute best.

[red2007]

Telling stories is one of the greatest powers we possess. It's like a dream you can fill with what you want, and the knight doesn't always have to save the princess. Sometimes, she saves herself.

-Patti Callahan Henry, The Secret Book of Flora Lea, 2023

[red2007]

I keep seeing people talk about how worried they are that their favorite show will get cancelled due to the strike and let me make one thing fucking clear.

If you care more about if your show will get cancelled than the strike being successful, then as far as I'm concerned you're a corporate shill and a fucking turncoat.

Because if shows getting axed left and right is what needs to happen in order for the strike to keep going strong for as long as it needs to, then line them up at the fucking chopping block.

There will always be more shows, but this strike will determine under what conditions those shows are created; under what conditions the writers and actors WHO ARE THE REASON YOU HAVE ANY FAVORITE SHOWS OR FANDOMS TO BEGIN WITH are treated by the studios.

Because THE STRIKE isn't what got your shows cancelled, it's THE STUDIOS who decide which shows get cancelled and THEY'RE the ones who caused this strike to happen by not paying their fucking workers a liveable wage and abusing their talent endlessly for YEARS.

Your fictional faves are NOT more important than the REAL Actors and Writers who brought them to life. You wouldn't even HAVE your "faves" and your "blorbos" and your "plinkos" without them.

You either care more about your fucking SHOWS, or you care about the fucking strike.

Figure out which side you're on.

[red2007]

It skeeves me out when the actor du jour in my daily wordle-esque games shows up in that day's binge when I haven't seen them in anything in forever. I mean, it's not that small a world.

[red2007]

I dreamt she posted this. And then she did.

Singing of Mount Abora

Title: Singing  By: Aloysia Virgata Rating: NC-17 Category: MSR Timeline: S7 Summary:  Casefile, follow up to Petrichor, both of which are set in the same universe as Waters of Babylon. It also works fine as a standalone. Notes: Endless heart-eyed thanks to @slippinmickeys and @icedteainthebag for unbelievable editing, suggestions, and generally keeping me honest when I tried to get away with being lazy. And to @red2007 and @scullymakesmefeelautopsyturvy for being supportive and lovely and kind as I patched this thing together. I appreciate all of you more than you can possibly imagine for helping me get back into the swing of things after a long time away. I simply couldn’t have done it without you all.

***

“You’ve been requested specifically,” Kersh says, and the disgust in his voice is evident. Why anyone with the clout to make requests of the FBI should request Mulder is clearly baffling, like asking a genie for a urinary tract infection.

[red2007]

When a fanfic title is trending...

Well done, @edierone 😂🥰

[red2007]

[red2007]

All deference to Ted Lasso and Alfonso Ribiero, but the greatest physical comedian of the 19th, 20th, and 21st centuries is Sean Hayes.

[red2007]

Step 1: Open Muldle.

Step 2: See Doggett.

Step 3: Close Muldle.

[red2007]

10:30am

Kid 1 (10): You're wrong, your knowledge is wrong and let me tell you why.

Kid 2 (13): SHUT UP! YOURE BEING RUDE!

Kid 1 walks away leaving Kid 2 grumbling.

10:40am

Kid 2, from her room: Why do you always have to be so rude to me? It's NOT A NICE THING TO DO!

Me: Hey! It's been 10 min. Be a goldfish.

Peaceful interlude...

10:45am

Kid 2, from her room: YOU ARE JUST THE MEANEST JERK THERE EVER WAS! SO RUDE!

Me: HEY! BE A GOD DAMNED GOLDFISH!

My life, brought to you by a kid obsessed with nautical history, short tempers, and Ted Lasso.

[red2007]

Happy Pride Month from this gay Queen.

I'm back on my SwanQueen bull shit...

[red2007]

Ted got to go be a present non-quitting dad.

Keeley found satisfaction in her career.

Rebecca found love and motherhood while still maintaining her boss ass bitch status.

Sam achieved his Nigerian football dream.

Nate mended his relationship with his dad, and more importantly himself.

Roy found a reason for change within himself and made a first step.

Beard...well Beard found someone just as intelligent and kinky and possessive as himself and as unhealthy as it may be, they're happy.

Jason really said fuck all the ships, just heal the people and I'm not really all that mad about it.