#And then the Doctor would be like 'Remember Grace? I told you I have thirteen lives. Well more than that now but that doesn't really matter

[nosferatufaggot]

If Disney bought Fox and Disney has a part of Doctor Who now........................DR. GRACE HOLLOWAY RETURN WHEN!?!?!?!

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 8: Moceit

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 8 - The temperature of your chest gets hotter when you are closer to your soulmate and colder when you move further away. 

Content warnings (oh boy): This is an afterlife fic! Meaning there is technically character death, but it is essentially the beginning of a whole new life, and the death itself is only briefly touched upon. That being said, warnings for; hypothermia/frostbite, death, car accident, talk of past death, mention of cancer, brief description of body horror (no gore).

Word count: 2.8k

It started when Janus was two. His parents were awoken by his feral cries, throwing open the door to his room, imagining the worst. They recoiled immediately upon touching him, his skin almost freezing to the touch. They closed the bedroom window and piled him in more layers until he stopped wailing, but that was only the start.  

When he was six, his mother explained soulmates to him. He looked at her with huge eyes, fiddling with the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

When he was ten, he had grown sick and tired of the constant cold. A majority of his classmates and friends hadn’t met their soulmates yet, but they all didn’t seem as bothered by it as he was. They didn’t keep their winter jackets on in class, no matter the season, and their hands were never too cold to hold a pencil.

When he was thirteen, he caught hypothermia. At the insistence of his older brother, he joined him outside in the snow for a hike in the forest. His countless layers and heat pads in his pockets only did so much when they got hopelessly lost in the woods, and while his brother seemed to be unaffected by the cold, Janus woke up the next day in the hospital. He could vaguely remember falling face first into the snow, his cold slowly morphing into pleasant warmth, his brother shouting his name. The doctors were unable to save his left eye, leaving him half blind, and his frostbite scars never quite disappeared. They said the very fact that he survived was some kind of miracle. He didn’t go into the snow after that. 

When he was sixteen, his mother took him to a doctor. After thorough examination, the man could find nothing wrong with him. He suggested B-12 supplements and a list of ways to increase his circulation, and when that did nothing to help months later, he sat them both down in his office and explained it most likely meant Janus’ soulmate had died. Janus didn’t know until that moment that it was possible to miss someone you’ve never met, but he cried on the way home. His mom said nothing. 

When he was eighteen, Janus was alone. He had become reclusive and standoffish, unwilling to spend time around any of the people who tried to befriend him. All of them had soulmates. All of them got to be happy. 

When he was twenty, his family suggested group therapy for those who had lost their soulmates, and he had reluctantly gone to one session. For a moment, he felt at home, surrounded by other people in thick sweaters and jackets and gloves, until he learned that all of them had lost their soulmates after meeting them. They had been able to spend years together, enjoying each other’s company, before losing the love of their life. When he explained his situation, he was only met with the same sympathetic looks he’d received everywhere else in life, and he never went back. 

When he was twenty-two, he graduated with his Bachelor’s degree in psychology. The crowd was the quietest it had been all night; no one knew this guy, but it felt wrong to not cheer at all. He shook the Dean’s hand with thick yellow gloves and took the diploma, ignoring the man’s confused raised eyebrow and walking away to the noise of half-hearted claps. 

When he was twenty-five, life was okay. Not good, just okay. He’d found a lab job in the psychological social experiment aspect that paid decently and wasn’t a total bore. Most nights he was numb, especially after experiments that revolved around soulmates, so he turned on Netflix and poured a glass of wine and fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in a thick weighted blanket. Life is fine, he told himself. It could be worse. 

And when Janus was twenty-seven, he died. It was an accident; a mix of a long tiring day and an ignored red light just as he was crossing the street. The car barreled through the intersection, other car horns blaring, and he looked up just in time to see the person looking down, probably on their phone. He’d never know. The impact was quick, and he didn’t even have time to feel pain before the world went dark. He was a little grateful for that.

It stayed dark for a long while after that. Well, in full honesty, he didn’t know how long it was. It felt like a long time, but it also felt extraordinarily short. The seconds turned to years and millennia became mere minutes, the very concept of time fading away just as he did. A minuscule part of him was still aware that he was conscious, and he probably should have been a little scared of that, because did that mean he was destined to float around as an unattached subconscious for eternity? A larger part of him was just relieved to finally rest, with the weight of student debt and an exhaustingly lonely life finally gone. 

Until it wasn’t. The light crept into the center of his vision first and he grumbled in annoyance. Let me just enjoy it a second longer, he thought distantly, but the light didn’t listen as it slowly spread across his vision like molasses. For the first time in his life, he realized with a start, he didn’t feel cold. There was a heat in his chest that he’d never felt before, and he was scared when the darkness faded, so would the warmth. 

“Janus, are you okay?” A desperate voice broke through his dark haze in whisps, slowly clearing the fog that had set in. It rambled on, “Oh, stupid question. You just died. Sorry! Can you see me?”

His vision lit up all the way, replacing the darkness but not taking away the heat. Perfect. He was about to answer no to the stranger’s question; there was just a blur of blue and white and green, until the figure loomed that much closer and came into focus. It was a man, probably his age, with bright blue eyes and floppy golden hair, his freckled nose just inches from Janus’. His eyes held concern but he was smiling like no tomorrow. The man seemed to realize when Janus could in fact see him clearly and backed away, holding out a hand to help him up. Why was he lying on the ground? Where was he?

That question was answered as soon as he took the offered hand, looking around him in shock. Apparently the dark void hadn’t held him for as long as he thought. A distant siren pierced the air, and people’s shouts rang over each other as they milled around the body in the street, his body. The car that had hit him was nowhere to be seen. It was all too surreal, too uncomfortable, and he turned back to the man standing in front of him. They were standing on the sidewalk, just meters away from the gruesome scene on the street, and Janus suddenly felt very lightheaded. 

“I carried you away as soon as your soul formed. Didn’t want to overwhelm you when you opened your eyes for the first time.”

“I’m dead?”

“Yep,” The man answered just a bit too cheerfully, before noticing the newcomer’s expression and softening, “Sorry. I’ve been here for a while, the shock has kind of worn down.”

“What’s here?”

“The afterlife. Deathny World. Aliven’t. I’ve heard it all.”

“Ah,” Janus choked, trying to take in the environment around him without looking at his own dead body, or the paramedics that had just arrived on the scene. It looked like the real world, and obviously they were still in the real world to some extent since he was witnessing the aftereffects of his own death, but the subtle mist floating through the air was definitely new. It curled through the air gently, resting on every surface it could land on, coloring the world with soft rainbow hues. It was the real world, it was just as if he was seeing more of it for the first time. The parts that were invisible before. An orange tuft graced by his ear and he could just make out the sound of someone laughing, the smell of fresh bread, the taste of fresh jam on a summer morning. A smile tugged at his lips before he realized.

“Forgotten memories,” The man spoke up, as if reading his mind. “Every lost memory of every person winds up here. Mostly good ones, but some are bad. You’ll learn how to sift through them soon enough.” 

Janus was finally able to pull himself away from the colorful world, staring into the bright eyes of the stranger. “Who are you?”

“I’m Patton,” he said with a new grin, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “I’m your soulmate.”

--------------------------------------

It took Janus a much longer time than he would have liked to admit to unfreeze from the revelation, Patton taking his hand gently and sinking them out to a new location. His stomach churned upon rising up, the new sensation making him nauseous. He didn’t recognize where they were, some cafe, and Patton gently pushed him into a seat before strolling up to the counter with no hesitation, starting a conversation with the barista and gesturing to Janus. The mist, the lost memories, were gone, replaced with a golden haze that gave the world a soft glow. The air was thick with the smell of coffee beans and cookies that instantly calmed Janus’ stomach. When Patton finally walked back to him, two mugs in hand, he explained. 

“This is the soul world. We can pop in from the real world to this one whenever we want. Some souls choose to stay on one side predominantly, some switch back and forth a lot.” 

“This single cafe is the soul world?”

“Oh! No, my bad! There’s a whole lot more outside. I’ll have to show you later. Right now, though, just relax. You’ve had a… long day, to say the least.” He pushed one of the cups into Janus’ grasp.

“What is it?” He asked skeptically. It looked like coffee, but who’s to say anything anymore. 

“Whatever you want it to be. Think of your favorite drink, then try it.”

Janus narrowed his eyes but lifted the mug to his lifts, trying to think of a single drink he liked. His mind decided that this was the ideal moment to forget everything he ever drank in his entire short life, so when he finally took a sip, the liquid was disgustingly tasteless. Like warm water. He set the drink down, watching Patton intensely.

Janus took in his appearance, his general shock finally beginning to wear off. An open light blue button up over a white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was pretty much Janus’ definition of cute, what with those stupidly adorable dimples and little golden locket hanging on his neck. If he’d met him when he was alive, he no doubt would have fallen head over heels for him.    

“You’re my soulmate? How is that…” He cleared his throat, hoping he wasn’t blushing, “How is that possible?”

Patton hummed, wiping off what appeared to be a hot chocolate moustache, “I died when I was three. Cancer.”

“That’s awful.”

Patton shrugged, taking another sip, “It wasn’t great. I woke up by myself, still half wedged in my own corpse. It was terrifying. My parents were crying, and I tried to tell them I was there, somehow, but they couldn’t see me.”

“Totally not traumatic at all.”  

The man actually laughed, despite the dark story, “I had to figure everything out for myself. Sinking down, navigating both worlds, how to control my own form… which you are doing surprisingly well at, by the way.” 

Janus glanced down at himself. He definitely wasn’t alive, that much was sure, if the wisps of yellow smoke cascading down him were any indication. If he concentrated hard enough, the fog began to disappear, leaving him looking normal, albeit a bit paler. As soon as his mind drifted, however, the golden trails were back.

“This was the first place I was able to rise up in in this world. It’s kind of an easy access point. I popped up behind the counter, scared the living daylights out of Virgil.” He pointed to the barista who was currently chatting with another person ghost, laughing over identical mugs with them. “He’s been here a while. Two hundred years, give or take.”

Janus paled, the idea of eternity becoming just that much more real. “Oh…”

“Yeah. He kind of raised me. And then when I was old enough to understand, he explained that I’d left a soulmate behind. I cried for hours after that.” He smiled sadly, finally meeting Janus’ eyes. 

“You knew my name,” The younger recalled suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, “Right when I was waking up, you said my name.”

Patton looked almost sheepish, focusing back on the cup between his hands, “After Virgil told me… I kind of made it my personal mission to find my soulmate. I spent a lot of time in the real world, years, trying to find you, and of course checking in on my parents sometimes. Ghosts don’t need sleep, we can sleep, if we want, but we don’t need to, so it was a constant search. And then, my parents both ended up in the hospital, long story, and I wanted to be there when they woke up. Make their transition into the new world a little easier than mine was,” His expression lit up, wiggling a little in his seat, “And while I was there, I stumbled across a certain young patient with severe frostbite and hypothermia.”

“Me.”

“Mmhm. And I felt this weird warmth in my chest, which is weird, because ghosts don’t really feel temperature. It didn’t last that long, just a couple seconds, really, but it was enough time to know.”

“The soulbond.”

“Yep.”

They both drank in unison. This time, Janus’ drink tasted like the unsweetened chamomile tea from the hospital. He made a sour face and put the cup back down. He stared into his reflection for a moment, almost captivated in the sloshing against the sides of the mug, before Patton spoke again.

“I spent most of my time in the alive-world after that. With you. And it sucked, because there was nothing I wanted more than to talk to you and hug you and just let you know I existed… you were so sad…”

“Yeah…” Janus mumbled, tapping the ridge of his cup with his fingernail. “Is that why you were at the accident?”

“I tried to stop it,” Patton whispered, a look of pure guilt crossing his face, “I couldn’t tug you back though, and you didn’t hear me. So the least I could do was pull you out when you formed and take you away from the crowd.” 

The odd language was starting to confuse Janus, the weird differentiation between his soul and his body, the terminology regarding the soul world he didn’t understand… it was all just a lot. 

“So… Do we age? You’re obviously not three anymore. But the barista doesn’t look two hundred.”

“Virgil. And… I don’t know.”

“Very comforting.”

“You’re sassy.”

“That I am.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Janus’ lips twitched into a smile in response to the absolute beam on Patton’s face. No one had ever taken his snark as anything other than bitchiness, but this guy, his soulmate, seemed to love it. 

“As far as I know, we won’t. I think I only aged along with you, and now that you’re here, we’re probably done.” He had finished his drink, the barista swooping in out of nowhere and plucking it from his grasp with an impish grin. Patton shouted his thanks as Virgil disappeared into the back room. “He’s been waiting to meet you for a long time. But he can be a handful, so we’ll save proper introductions until you’re settled. Speaking of which…” He stood up, smoothing out his shirt and offering his hand to Janus once more. “I can show you where residency is, if you’d like. It might be nice to take a nap, just to process.”

Janus considered. The vague sounding ‘residency’ was intriguing, but he was much too restless to sleep right now. He voiced as much. “Maybe later. Do you think you could show me around first?”

The grin Patton gave him was bright enough to power a city block. Janus took the extended hand and the man squealed, pulling him towards the door excitedly. Yeah. He was definitely already falling for the literal ball of sunshine that was his soulmate. 

“One grand tour of the afterlife, coming up!” 

[bubbyleh]

Do I Know You? - Chapter 7

read this chapter on ao3! check out the rest of this series on tumblr!

Chapter 7: Redacted Version An idea of the truth.

- ○ -

Getting to know your long-lost sibling around thirty-nine years after they disappeared is certainly something. It’s difficult sometimes for Kleiner to reconcile the adult sitting across from him with the baby he knew so long ago, but he’s trying! And though Bubby isn’t really one to offer up much in the way of personal anecdotes, even hearing the odd story from five years ago from Coomer is nice.

At first, Kleiner told himself he wouldn’t press. He had no starry-eyed, idealized notion of Black Mesa in his head. The facility was fucked up beyond measure, and the thought of Bubby growing up surrounded by that? It was one he wanted to shove into a trash can in his mind.

But Bubby didn’t seem to want to talk about it, and Kleiner wasn’t sure he wanted to hear.

Slowly, though, that changed. The incidents were small initially, but Bubby began to open up slightly. Like how during one of their regular coffee meetings, Kleiner asked a bit about the conversation he’d overheard in Chemical Engineering.

“Oh, that,” Bubby grimaces. “That was Dr. Daniels. He’s been in charge of my project for as long as I can remember. He died not long after that night .”

“Good,” Kleiner says in response to that last fact, a statement that throws Bubby for a loop. They look unsure, avoiding Kleiner’s gaze for the briefest of moments and slouching forward. Suddenly, though, their eyes widen, and they sit right back up.

“Yeah, you’re right,” they finally say. “It is good.”

Bubby places their mug on the table, brow furrowing as they stare at the coffee, gently swishing. And something about it threatens to tear Kleiner’s heart apart. The wrongness of it all. Bubby shouldn’t have memories like that—of Dr. Daniels. They were supposed to grow up together, in a small house at the end of the street. Instead, they were in Kleiner’s admittedly cramped kitchen, trying to catch up on a lifetime of memories.

It’s unfair.

Kleiner takes a sip of his coffee.

“Bubby,” he manages to ask. “Have you ever thought about leaving Black Mesa?”

And Bubby frowns. “That’s… complicated.” They fiddle with the edge of their mug.

“How so?”

“Well,” Bubby sighs. “It’s not that I want to stay at Black Mesa, it’s more that… I don’t technically have a doctorate, you know. And I’m not qualified to do anything else. If I want a job, it’s gotta be here.”

Oh. Right. Actually, Kleiner hadn’t really thought about that, but it did make sense that Black Mesa wouldn’t be able to just hand Bubby a degree. Hell, it might actually be a bit of a warning sign if they could.

“But, also…” In the most simple of motions, Bubby smiles. “Harold’s here. You’re here, Isaac.” He brings his mug up to his mouth, but pauses to clarify, “You two are doing great work. I wouldn’t ask you to leave it, and I won’t leave either of you.”

Bubby’s clearly trying to keep their tone casual, but their words feel significant to Kleiner. They hold a weight to them; a promise.

- ○ -

The Hanukkah photo was the first step. It took a while, but the longer Bubby saw it and got used to it, the more he realized he was curious. The baby in that photo looks so happy to be with their brother, and it’s hard to imagine that that’s

him

. A little person whose family adored them. And maybe, if they see the rest of Kleiner’s photos, he’ll at least understand a bit about who that person could have been.

Isaac, of course, was thrilled by the prospect of sharing Bubby’s baby pictures. He’d promised to dig up as many as he could and bring them over, since Black Mesa’s singles dorms aren’t really great for receiving guests in. Once Harold had found out about the plan, though, he’d been eager to invite himself to the viewing. Actually, he’d been practically giddy about it.

Maybe they should be worried about that…

…

Oh this was a mistake.

Before they can really consider cancelling, though, there’s a knock at the door. And when Bubby opens the door to the sight of Kleiner holding a small cardboard box, it’s only then that he realizes that tonight is going to be extremely embarrassing.

- ○ -

“Oh, look at this one! He has to be less than an hour old, here!”

“My goodness, he’s adorable!”

Bubby has to resist every urge not to hide his red face behind his hands, because some poor part of his brain still really wants to see what he looked like as a baby. Unfortunately, Coomer does as well, and if they have to hear one more time about how they were the cutest thing to ever grace the planet, then they’re going to explode.

What’s even worse, though, is that Coomer brought out his own collection.

“You should see this one.” He slides a picture over to Kleiner. “They thought they were so cool!”

Bubby just barely catches a glance of a photo of himself when he was, what? Thirty-five? Thirty-six? Couldn’t have been too long after he started dating Coomer, actually.

“Wait a fucking second.” Bubby snatches the photo before Kleiner can get that good of a look. They do look younger, with a scowl on their face pointed somewhere offscreen. “I don’t remember you taking this.”

“Ah, well.” Finally, Coomer has the audacity to look at least a bit sheepish. “I made sure you weren’t looking.”

Bubby squints back down at the picture. “Why?”

“I thought you looked nice,” Coomer admits matter-of-factly.

And after a brief reprieve, Bubby’s flushed face returns in full force. This time, though, he draws his knees to his chest and buries his face in them.

“You two are killing me,” Bubby mumbles, holding the picture out for Isaac.

Kleiner plucks it from their hands. “You’re fine,” he insists.

“I will die, and it will be your fault.”

There’s a sound of papers shifting, followed by Kleiner muttering, “Hang on a moment…”

Bubby peeks out.

“I think that was it, actually,” Kleiner sighs. Almost instinctively, he reaches over and pats Bubby’s head, earning himself a glare. “You disappeared when you were around thirteen months. That’s not a lot of time…”

Kleiner’s eyes seem fixed on the photo of the newborn in his hand, though. He brushes it with his pointer finger, and in the back of Bubby’s mind, something clicks into place. They stand abruptly, much to their brother’s surprise.

“Fine,” Bubby states. “Give me a second.”

They loop around the couch, and after blindly fumbling under it for a moment, their hand finally finds purchase on what they were looking for. With a flourish, Bubby holds up their file, shaking off the dust that’s accumulated.

“Is that where you’ve been hiding that?” Coomer asks.

“Don’t worry, it’s getting a new hiding spot after tonight,” Bubby reveals. He settles back on the couch, clutching the file tightly. “Now, let me set the ground rules: This is a selective process, which means I reserve the right to withhold any picture I see fit.” He glares at the two of them. “No sneaking.”

Kleiner nods, and Coomer chimes in with “Understood!”

Bubby takes a deep breath before they open their file again. It’s been a while—a long while—since they last did, but everything is just as they left it. In fact, he thinks he might know where the first good picture is as he flips forwards slightly.

“Alright.” They undo the paperclip, slipping the photo to Kleiner. “This is me and Dr. Cynthia, one of the good ones. The notes say I was around fourteen months here.”

Dr. Cynthia had taken an immediate liking to Bubby, and judging by the picture, the feeling was mutual. She held him up to the camera with such a happy look on her face. Bubby’s struck with the thought that it was the first time in over a month that someone had loved him.

And Isaac has tears welling up in his eyes.

“No, shit,” Bubby struggles. “Don’t cry, fuck.” They pull Kleiner into a hug without really thinking.

Kleiner wipes away the few tears that escaped. “I’m fine, Bubby, seriously,” he says, but his voice sounds shaky. “It’s just… I didn’t get to see you grow up.”

Oh.

Crap.

“Okay, we don’t have to look at them anymore-” Bubby tries to put the file down.

“No wait!” Kleiner’s almost frantic as he grabs onto Bubby’s wrist. He takes a breath. “I want to see them.”

“You’re sure?”

Kleiner nods.

“Alright.” Bubby shakes his hand off them. “But we’re taking a break if you need it.”

- ○ -

Seeing the rest of Bubby’s childhood was certainly a mixed bag of emotions. They were such a cute little kid. There was a picture of them after they got their first pair of glasses, with a smile bright enough to light up a room. And then in their teenage years, their facial expressions gradually melted into “teen angst”. It was especially funny when Kleiner held up a picture of Bubby pouting when he was a baby, and they realized he was making the same face in both photographs.

Kleiner loved it, truly, but there was an underlying melancholy to it all. He should have seen this all himself. Bubby was taken away from their family, and for what?

That question sticks in their head. For what? Bubby’s clearly been skipping over large parts of their childhood, ignoring the bad parts and sharing the good. And that makes sense, of course, but…

Well, Kleiner read that first paper. Bubby was taken for augmentation and enhancement.

They did something to him.

“I’ll see you sometime next week,” Bubby promises as they see Kleiner out of their dorm. “Maybe we’ll do another dinner?”

“That would be nice,” Kleiner agrees. He’d stayed later than he meant to, but the trams would run for another hour or so. He has time for goodbyes.

“I’ll talk to you about it at work!” Harold calls from the seating area, where he’s still sorting the picture mess.

Bubby rolls their eyes, but they lean in, pulling Kleiner into another hug. “Thank you.”

Kleiner’s always happy about some genuine emotion from their sibling, but it’s a bit sudden. “Why are you thanking me?”

“I don’t know, really,” Bubby chuckles to himself. “Being my brother, I guess? Accepting me?”

“Like I wouldn’t welcome you back.” Kleiner returns the hug for a brief moment, before pulling back. “I’ll look at my schedule next week.”

Bubby waves his brother off. “Bye, Isaac.”

“Bye Bubby.”

And Isaac Kleiner decides. He is going to get his hands on that file.

[iamtrebleclefstories]

I Was Made For Loving You - Part 3

Soulmate AU series of unrelated one-shots where Jo and Alex discover that they are made for each other.

where you have a clock counting down the minutes

Please enjoy this insanely long monstrosity of a fic :)

Part 3 - I Was Made for Loving You 

The day his clock showed up, he was excited. At the age of thirteen, he’d been a little older than most. For a while, he didn’t think he had a soulmate. Most other kids got their clocks at twelve years old. Yet on his twelfth birthday, when he woke up and saw his empty wrist he was disappointed to see that his hadn’t. No, instead his clock showed up on a random Tuesday morning, about four months after his thirteenth birthday. His excitement was short-lived though. Because according to his clock, he wouldn’t meet his soulmate for at least two decades.

                                                    20:05:17:6:49

 Twenty years, five months, seventeen days, six hours, and forty-nine minutes away to be exact. He’d be thirty-three by the time he met the woman he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with. This didn’t sit right with Alex. He’d thought for sure the universe would favor him considering he’d had the crappiest childhood. The least the universe could do was grant him a soulmate sooner than twenty years from now. 

 It was frustrating when he got to college and it felt like everyone he knew was meeting their soulmate. It was even more frustrating when he got to medical school and the majority of his friends were in nice, loving, soul-bonded relationships while he was out partying and sleeping around. He’d never admit it, but as fun as sleeping around was, all Alex had ever wanted was the sureness and clarity of a soulmate bond. His whole life, he wondered what it was like to be loved for exactly who he was. He wondered what it was like to have someone stay. He wondered what it was like to have someone sane. The partying and the girls just so happened to serve as a useful distraction for the fact that he was years away from meeting the one person who just might stick around. 

 When he started working at Seattle Grace, he didn’t do much to change who he was. If anything, he was worse than before. With only seven years, three months, five days, ten hours, and thirty-six minutes left to meet his soulmate, Alex was growing even more restless. He couldn’t handle the idea of walking around the hospital as all of his friends met their soulmates before he did. Meredith had already met her’s, Izzie’s clock said that she was three months away, Cristina’s clock said one year left, and George’s said two years. 

 There wasn’t much time left for them to wait. The sad and funny thing was that some of his friends found themselves in relationships with someone other than their soulmate. Meredith was trying to get over McDreamy, Cristina was doing it with Burke, George was in love with Meredith, and Izzie had tried going out with him despite the fact that she was supposed to meet her guy very soon. It kind of sucked too, because he could see himself liking her enough to actually try something more than a one night stand. 

 Knowing that Izzie would be meeting her soulmate very soon didn’t make it much easier when she finally did. The guy came in the form of a bedridden cardiac patient who was on the brink of death. If Alex thought the universe was screwed up for making him wait so long to meet his soulmate, it was even more screwed up for giving Izzie a soulmate that might not live past his next surgery. That was all kinds of messed up and shitty that he didn’t even want to go into. As horrible as it sounded though, he hoped that maybe Izzie’s soulmate would kick the bucket and die. Then maybe he’d have a chance at something more than just meaningless. 

 And they did get the chance at it. Denny died and Izzie was a wreck. She ended up making some questionable decisions, got George to cheat on his wife—but not his soulmate—with her, and nearly got herself fired multiple times over. Alex on the other hand, had lived through a hookup with Addison Montgomery, a strange—regrettable—relationship with a patient by the name of Rebecca Pope, and had even hooked up with Meredith’s sister Lexie a couple times. So when they finally got together, Alex thought that this could be it. Maybe it could be enough. Maybe Izzie could be enough for him, and he could be enough for her. 

 Things didn’t go as planned, though. Izzie got cancer and started hallucinating Denny. So they got married and tried to make the best out of a bad situation, then George died on the very day he was supposed to meet his soulmate—saving her life apparently. He doesn’t know if it was the cancer or the soul bond that attached her to Denny that caused it or even her friendship with O’Malley, but one morning he woke up and she didn’t. Alex woke up and turned around to shake Izzie awake, but she wouldn’t wake up. Her body was cold. She’d died sometime in the middle of the night and he never noticed.

 That stuck with him for a long time. He felt like he should’ve been able to save her. He was a doctor for crying out loud. A doctor whose wife died in her sleep as he laid right beside her. He was a widower now and it was hell. His heart ached and he became a bigger asshole than before. And hence started the string of endless women all over again. He tried to date Lexie Grey, and it worked for a little while. But then the shooting happened and Lexie went crazy and Alex was trying to understand how he survived and so many others didn’t. He added that to his laundry list of failed attempts at love. 

 Then there was Lucy—the one who stole his job. After that he gave up on trying to have a real relationship. He realized it was pointless to try making a connection with someone that wasn’t soulmate. All it brought was hurt and pain that he didn’t have the patience for. He slept around again, waiting for the moment when he’d finally meet his soulmate and maybe, just maybe, he search would be over.

 The week before he was supposed to meet his soulmate, he decided to take advantage of the little bit of time he had left and slept with a lot of the new interns. Sure, he felt a little bad every time he looked down at his wrist, but he was trying to brace himself for the worst case scenario. The worst case scenario being that his soulmate hated him or that she was a horrible person and they didn’t work out. If his worst fears came true he wanted to at least have something to soften the blow. It may sound depressing, but that’s how it worked. And Alex had been through enough in his life to know that life was rarely ever fair or full of hope. 

 *****

 She was sixteen when her clock finally showed up on her wrist. For the longest time, she thought that maybe there just wasn’t someone out there for her. Most kids got their clocks at twelve years old. They’d wake up the morning of their twelfth birthday to find a clock there counting down the years, months, days, hours, and minutes until one met their soulmate. She tried to tell herself not to be discouraged. After all, she’d been left at a fire station as an infant. Who knows when her real birthday was? So, for about two weeks she held onto the tiniest bit of hope that one day she’d wake up and it would be there. 

 When the clock didn’t come in, it only reinforced everything she’d ever believe about herself. That she was unlovable. She was broken. She was unwanted. She was a waste of space. Those feelings intensified when her peers realized that her clock was missing. They made up mean jokes and rumors about soulmate-less Brooke. It was so bad that the family she’d been staying with at the time sent her away. They didn’t want a “defective” child in their home. 

 For about four years, she wore long sleeves. She didn’t want anyone to see her wrist. She didn’t want to see her own wrist and be reminded of the fact that she had no one in this world. That’s why it was such a surprise when her clock showed up on her wrist. 

 She remembered the day vividly. It was four in the morning and she’d been attempting to get some sleep while she heard the junkies talking outside her car. She’d just burrowed a little further into her blankets in an effort to cover herself so that no one would realize she was living there when she felt it. There was a dull ache in her wrist and then the sound of a clock chiming. After the sounding stopped, she was scared to look down. She was scared to look and realize that it had all been a figment of her imagination. 

 It wasn’t though. It was definitely there. The clock displayed the numbers brightly on her wrist for all to see. The countdown to meeting her soulmate was there. It was real. She had someone. For the first time in her life she thought that maybe she’d have someone. But when she realized the number of years before she’d meet him, she grew discouraged. Ten years was a long time. A very long time.

                                                        10:02:30:8:57

 Of course she’d have to wait a decade to meet her soulmate. As if her life wasn’t already difficult, as if she didn’t need for someone to love her right now. Maybe that’s why she got caught up with Paul in the first place. She just wanted so badly for someone to love her that she ended up in an abusive marriage for about two years before she did something about it.

 Of all the decisions she’d made in her life, getting with Paul was the worst one. He was harsh and hateful and deceptively charming. He’d told her exactly what she wanted to hear and she believed him. She ate up every false promise and calculated compliment. Her friends had not been happy with her, but she didn’t care. They told her to wait, to hold out for her soulmate, but Brooke wasn’t sure she believed in them anymore. 

 Paul didn’t have a soulmate. He was one of the very few people in the world that didn’t have a clock at all. He’d convinced her that it was all a fantasy. A childish daydream that would soon fade away like everything else in the world. For the most part, she believed him. 

 A part of her tried to hold on to the hope that maybe there was someone better for her out there than Paul. It all changed when she became a mother, though. The only thing that was supposed to be stronger than a soul bond was the bond between parents and their children. She could not possibly understand how or why her mother had abandoned her like she did. She couldn’t comprehend how you’d let go because the moment she held her child in her arms, she knew that she’d never be able to give this up. 

 The road to motherhood wasn’t easy, though. It was full of pain and suffering and complications she’d never anticipated. Originally, she wasn’t going to keep the baby. She had decided that after being beaten so bad that she had landed in the hospital. There was no way she could raise a child in the environment she was living in. For weeks, she walked around fearful of the decision that was looming over her. One day, while she was in the car with Paul they got into a horrible accident. She’d made it out mostly okay. Paul on the other hand sustained a severe injuries and was declared dead on arrival. 

 The death of her husband was not sad for her. If anything, it was liberating. She was a pregnant senior in college and suddenly inherited all of his money and his property. Of course, she was alone again, but for the first time in her life loneliness didn’t seem as daunting. As soon as she graduated with her degree in biology, she sold the house, their rings, and all of Paul’s belongings and hauled ass out of New Jersey. 

 She was about seven months pregnant when she finally moved into her brand new apartment in Boston. For a while after moving, she grappled with her identity. She didn’t want anything tying her to the life she’d left behind. She didn’t want her child to bear the legacy of hurt and pain that she’d left. Brooke Stadler didn’t feel like her anymore. That name was attached to the despair that she vowed to leave behind for the sake of the life she was about to bring into the world. 

 It was during one quest for baby names when she stumbled upon one that resonated with her. Josephine, God will increase. Jo, for short. Yes, that was it. No more standing back and letting people take advantage of her. She would increase. She would grow so tall that she would make a fool out of anyone who ever said she would never be enough. 

 So, she became Josephine. A last name would be a little more difficult. Jo knew that she didn’t want to keep the last name Stadler. She briefly considered Schmidt—after her high school teacher whom she had kept in contact with, but decided against that. She settled on Wilson. It was the name of the chief of the fire station where she’d been left as a child. That was it. That was her name. Josephine Brooke Wilson. 

 Her name change was approved about a week before she gave birth to her son on July 16, 2007. Yes, she had a boy. A little boy with the sweetest dimples and the craziest head full of hair. He had her eyes and her nose and her ears. Jo fell in love with him instantly. At twenty-two years old she became a mother to the most beautiful baby boy she’d ever laid eyes on. 

 She named him Liam Michael Wilson. Liam was a good baby, and she was grateful for that. It was difficult raising a child on her own while simultaneously trying to do well in med school. Harvard Medical School, to be specific. In the mornings she’d drop Liam off at daycare and pick him up after her classes were over. Her life consisted of going to school, being a mom, and working part time at the daycare Liam attended. She didn’t go out or party. She didn’t sleep around or start anything serious. There was no time and she definitely did not have the motivation to try harder.  

 On the day of her medical school graduation, she walked across the stage hand in hand with her almost four year old son. She smiled wide and almost cried after her son told her how proud he was of her.  She’d done it. She was finally a doctor. 

 And so began the next chapter of their lives. Jo had matched with Seattle Grace Mercy West’s surgical residency program. She was excited and nervous at the thought of moving across the country with her son. Her whole life, she’d lived on the east coast. It was time to leave this place and move on to the next thing. 

 *****

 “Today’s the day,” Jackson walked into the attendings lounge and clapped Alex on the back. 

 “What’s today?” Webber asked as he poured himself some coffee. 

 “Today’s the day Evil Spawn gets to meet his soulmate,” Cristina supplied. 

 April gasped, “Oh my goodness! Finally.”

 “Yeah it only took him thirty-three years,” Meredith snickered as she put her stuff into her locker. 

 "Awe, Karev is becoming a man today," Mark teased and slapped Alex on the shoulder.

 “Maybe this means he’ll stop being an ass that sleeps with all the interns,” Callie called out from her spot on the couch. 

 “Oh shush. Might I remind you that you slept with me once. So, you're no better,” Alex sent Callie a pointed look.

 “And now I no longer sleep with men,” Callie lifted her hands in mock surprise.

 The room full of doctors laughed at Callie's comment. Alex on the other hand rolled his eyes, "Whatever. You guys are way too invested in this soulmate thing."

 "Because we all already found ours. We want you to be happy. You of all people deserves something happy," Meredith smiled warmly at Alex. "So, stop complaining and let us be happy and excited for you."

 Alex knew that his friends just wanted what was best for him. They'd been by his side through a lot of really crappy things. When his wife died, Meredith opened up her home again for him to stay. Cristina hugged him—which was a miracle in and of itself. Kepner and Avery, who he wasn't even close to made it very clear that they would be there for him if he needed it. So many more of his friends and colleagues did the same.

 “How much time do you have left on your clock?” Bailey asked, trying to get as many details from Alex as possible.

 Alex looked down at his clock and read the numbers. It was strange to see mostly zeros. For years, he’d seen the clock full of numbers counting down very slowly. Today though, it seems as if the time had flown by.

                                                   00:00:00:04:37

 “Four hours and thirty-seven minutes,” Alex replied. “Which means that you all will be too busy doing your jobs to pay attention to me when I meet her. If this is even real and I meet her.”

   Meanwhile, Jo was in the locker room with her fellow interns getting ready for the day. She had just taken off her shirt and was about to put her scrub top on when she heard Stephanie gasp and grab her arm, “Oh my God.

Today is the day. Guys, Jo meets her soulmate today!”

 “Really?” Leah jumped up and squealed. “No why didn’t you say anything? We would’ve made a big deal about it.”

 “That’s exactly why I didn’t,” Jo removed her hand from Stephanie’s grasp and continued to get dressed for the day. “It’s not that big of a deal. Calm down.”

 “Not that big of a deal?” Stephanie looked at her as if she had three heads. “Jo. This is a huge deal. This is it. This is the most important day of your life. Why aren’t you more excited about this?”

 “Look, I’ve been burned one to many times in my life. It’s all a scam. It doesn’t mean anything,” Jo shook her head. “And it’s not the most important day of my life. The most important day of my life was the day I gave birth to my son. That’s the most important bond. It’s more important and stronger than a soul bond. So, unless my soulmate magically bonds with my son, then it’s meaningless.”

 Shane looked at Jo sadly, “There’s nothing wrong with trying find your own version of happiness. You’re allowed to let yourself be loved.”

 “Yeah,” Heather agreed. “You of all people deserves to meet their person.”

 “How much time is left on your clock?” Leah asked.

 Sighing Jo looked down and read it out loud, “Four hours and thirty-seven minutes.”

                                                  00:00:00:04:37

 “I wonder who it is,” Heather tilted her head to the side. “You’d have to meet him here in the hospital. Maybe it’s another doctor or a nurse. Ooh! Maybe even a patient! I’ve heard a couple stories of a few doctors that used to work here before us that met their soulmates while they were patients in the hospital.”

 “Gosh, I hope not,” Jo’s eyes widened. “I have a kid. I don’t have time to take care of a sick soulmate.”

 “I highly doubt it’s going to be a patient,” Stephanie assured. “It’s probably one another doctor. Which doctors are still single?”

 “Well, there’s Franklin from derm, Harrison from anesthesiology, that one guy Myers from OB, Johnson and Archer from Radiology, some others I don’t remember, and Karev," Leah replied.

 "How do you even know that?" Jo made a face. "Actually, I don't want to know."

 "She probably slept with all of them," Stephanie smirked.

 Leah shrugged, "Hey, I don't meet my soulmate for two more years. I'm taking advantage of all the freedom I have left."

 "No offense, but I don't want your sloppy seconds," Jo closed her locker and put on her lab coat. "I haven't had sex in... I can't even remember. But, I would still prefer it if my soulmate didn't sleep with all of my friends first."

 "I don't know, I kind of hope my soulmate is a manwhore," Heather thought out loud. The others turned to look at her strangely. "What? I do. That means he'll be good in bed. That's important. I'm going to be stuck with him for the rest of my life. He's got to know what he's doing."

 The interns busted out in laughter and chatted for a few more minutes before their resident, Lexie Grey walked in, “Hey guys. Today you all start new rotations so listen out for your assignments. Edwards you’re with Grey, Ross with Avery, Brooks with Bailey, Murphy with Robbins, and Wilson you’re with Yang.”

 The interns nodded and all made their ways to find their attendings. Jo walked over to where Yang was standing in the Cardiac ICU and smiled warmly, “Dr. Yang, I’m on your service today.”

 “Oh yes, Wilson right? I’ve heard some good things about you from Hunt and Torres. Make sure you keep up and don’t screw anything up,” Cristina instructed. “I’ve got things to do and lots of patients to see so there’s no time for messing around. Come on, before we’re late for rounds.”

 The next few hours were okay. Jo mostly kept an eye on Yang’s pre and post ops while Yang worked on studying for a new procedure she was going to preform later that afternoon. The day was going by so smoothly that she forgot to take a look at her clock to see how much time was left. She was about to look down when she heard her pager go off, Pit 911. Jo jumped up from her seat at the nurse’s station and hurried down to the ER, Dr. Yang following close behind her.

 They pulled on their trauma gowns and hurried into the trauma room they’d been paged to. The room was a buzz with multiple doctors from various specialties looking at a kid who seemed to be somewhere around eleven or twelve. Derek Shepherd was there, Kepner was there, Torres was there, and Karev.

 “What do we got?” Yang asked as she walked into the room.

 “Brandon Miller, eleven years old. He jumped off a balcony while on a school field trip because his friends dared him to,” Karev sounded off, not looking up from the kid he was examining. “He’s got splenic rupture that I’m going to have go in and repair, wrist fracture, an injury to his spine that’s putting pressure on the cord, a few broken ribs and a pneumothorax. I need you to run an echo on his heart to see if he can even withstand the stress of surgery.”

 For some reason, Jo’s heart rate picked up a little when she heard his voice. She’s seen Karev from afar, but in the past few months that she’d been working at Seattle Grace Mercy West, she’d never been on his service before. He seemed like a great doctor. She’d heard wonderful things about the projects he’d established and his dedication and commitment to his patients. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Karev yell out instructions.

 “Can someone insert a damn chest tube?”

 Yang looked at Jo and motioned to get to work, “Wilson, you know how to insert a chest tube?”

 “Yes ma’am,” Jo nodded.

 “Okay, then do it. We don’t have time to waste,” Yang commanded.

 Jo looked around the room for the supplies and was handed a tray by one of the nurses. She made her way up towards the kid and proceeded to insert the tube. She was about to move out of the way when bumped into Karev.

 “Do you mind?” Karev sneered gave her a sideways glance. He didn’t have time for this. He wanted to get out of this trauma room as quickly as possible. He was supposed to meet his soulmate any minute now, and he couldn’t do that if he was stuck in here fixing a kid in a room full of all his friends. He couldn’t miss their encounter. He’d been waiting for this exact moment for decades and he’d be damned if he missed it because some intern was in his way.

 “Sorry,” Jo apologized.

 Alex felt a jolt of electricity run through him as he heard her voice. Looking up, he finally decided to spare more than a quick glance at the intern. Feeling that someone’s eyes were on her, Jo looked up and locked eyes with Karev. She felt her heart and breathing pick up, then skip a few beats, before returning to normal. Alex felt a stirring within his chest and stopped what he was doing to stare at her for just a moment.

 That’s when the dinging started. It was a low chime sort of sound. It grew progressively louder and was getting on Alex’s nerves. He broke eye contact with the intern and looked around for the source of the noise. With all the commotion, he was unsure if anyone else heard it. He looked around at the monitors the kid had strapped to him, trying to determine what was going off.

 “What the hell is that noise? Can someone please figure out what freaking monitor is making that weird noise and turn it off?” Alex growled in annoyance.

 His request made the room go quiet, allowing everyone to hear for themselves exactly what was going on. Alex watched as one by one, all of his friends’ eyes widened in surprise. They looked at each other strangely, not saying anything.

 “Will someone please turn that freaking monitor off?” Alex continued to work on stabilizing the kid’s injuries.

 “Dr. Karev, that’s not one of the monitors,” nurse Tyler spoke, motioning to Alex’s clock that was covered by his trauma gown.

 He stepped away from his patient and pulled up the sleeve of his trauma gown. His numbers were at zero. How the hell were his numbers at zero? When did he meet her? He’d been stuck in this room for the past half hour. He was in a room full of friends and veteran nurses he’d known for years.

 Jo took a deep breath when she realized what happened. She removed her own sleeve and looked at the clock on her wrist. Sure enough, all zeros. Jo froze in fear and confusion as a steady ding came from her clock. After a couple seconds, she looked up at Karev who was still lost in thought.

 There was a gasp somewhere in the background. It sounded like Kepner, “Oh. My. God.”

 “Holy shit,” Yang’s voice rang out.

 “Woah!” Torres exclaimed.

 “I’ll be damned,” Shepherd chuckled.

 A couple of the nurses mumbled their own surprise as Jo continued to stare at her supposed soulmate with wide eyes. Finally, after a few seconds, he looked up at her.

 Jo felt it immediately. She felt the bond attach itself instantly. The thing that she’d convinced herself wasn’t real, the thing that seemed too much like a fairy tale to actually exist in real life, was happening to her. It all made sense. The shivers and butterflies she felt when she heard his voice. The heart palpitations she experienced and the sensation of breathlessness, were all her body’s way of syncing up their heart beats.

 Alex couldn’t believe it. He did meet her. She was here. She was the intern he’d bumped into. He’d been so caught up and desperate to meet her that when he did, he missed it. But then it made sense. The jolt of electricity he felt when he heard her speak. The captivating call of her eyes. Her gorgeous, hazel eyes. He didn’t think he’d ever seen more beautiful eyes. The longer he looked into them, the more he felt the soul bond increase. It was strong, and unlike anything he’d ever really experienced before. It was instant and all consuming. It was real.

 Soon, the dinging ceased. It was no longer needed. They had acknowledged each other. They had met.

 *****

 They never had a chance to talk after that moment. Brandon—the kid—began de-sating and needed to be rushed to the OR immediately. The echo he’d called Cristina in to run would have to wait. There was no time to waste, or he wouldn’t make it. It killed Alex to leave without being able to say anything to her. He wanted to get to know her and hear her story. He barely knew her name—and it was only because he asked while on his way to the OR with Torres, Kepner, and Shepherd. They hadn’t stopped talking about his soulmate throughout the entire time he was in the operating room. Thankfully, he and April were able to resolve the kid’s internal bleeding, leaving Shepherd and Torres to do the real work and try to keep Brandon from being paralyzed.

 Alex wanted to find her. Jo Wilson. That was her name. He asked around before he was directed to the OR board. Sure enough, her name was listed as the resident in OR 4 with Cristina. In the hours he’d been in surgery, she’d been pulled into one of her own. Sighing, Alex decided that he could use this time to talk to someone. He needed to vent. He needed to find Meredith.

 He ran around the hospital for about half hour before realizing where she was. Alex made his way to the hospital daycare and smiled as he showed his ID and walked to where Meredith was playing with Zola. Meredith was sitting on a bean bag chair while Zola was on the floor working on a puzzle. He hurried over to the corner they were in and sat in the bean bag chair across from Meredith.

 “Dude, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

 “What is it Alex? I’m trying to spend what little free time I have with my daughter. Can it wait?”

 “No, it can’t,” Alex rolled up the sleeve of his lab coat and showed her his arm. “I met her.”

 “Oh my God!” Meredith gasped and dropped the barbie doll that was in her hand. “You met her? Who is she?”

 “She’s an intern. Jo Wilson,” Alex shared. “I don’t really know a lot about her. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her because my patient needed to get up to the OR because he was de-sating on us.”

 “Wilson is your soulmate?” Meredith’s eyes widened. “She was the intern I picked for the intern appy. She did really well until she freaked out and froze, but I think she’ll make it. You can normally tell who’s going to make it and who isn’t. She hasn’t given me any reason to believe otherwise. What are you doing here talking to me? Go find her.”

 “I did try to find her. But then I found out she was in OR 4 with Cristina, who just so happened to be there when we met,” Alex grimaced.

 Meredith let out a peel of laughter, “Oh, Cristina is never going to let you live it down. She’s probably airing out all your dirty laundry as we speak. Who knows what she’s told Wilson about you?”

 Alex narrowed his eyes, “Oh shush. I sure hope not. I don’t need my soulmate thinking that I’m an ass before she even meets me.”

 “Hey! There are children present. Language!” Meredith warned motioning to the children playing around them.

 “You act as if I don’t work with children all day.”

 Meredith rolled her eyes. Being friends with Alex really was a pain sometimes, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. She was happy for him. He’d finally met his soulmate. He was finally going to get the happiness he deserved. She just hoped that the universe knew what it was doing when it chose Jo Wilson as his soulmate, “Hold on… you said your soulmate is one of the interns?”

 “Yeah? So what? You were an intern when you met Derek,” Alex shrugged. “It happens.”

 “No, I know that. That’s not what I’m talking about,” Meredith shook her head. “Didn’t you sleep with half the intern class?”

 “Oh crap… You don’t think she knows, right?”

 “Are you kidding? Don’t you remember what it was like to be an intern? Gossip around here spreads like wildfire,” Meredith leaned back in her bean bag chair. “I’m positive she knows exactly how many of her friends you’ve slept with.”

 “Which means she already knows how big of a douche I am,” Alex groaned. “You know, on some level, I always knew that being a man-whore was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

 Meredith was going to open her mouth to respond when they heard a crash followed by a child crying in the background. Being the peds surgeon that he was, Alex jumped up from his bean bag chair and scanned the room for the source of the crying. There was a young woman holding a boy who looked to be about four. He had a nasty head lac that would probably need stitches.

 “Can someone get ahold of an intern to come take a look at this kid? And page his parents?” One of the daycare workers yelled out.

 Not wanting an intern working on this kid’s face, Alex decided to step in, “Hey. No need to call an intern. I’m a peds surgeon. I’ll take a look at him and get him stitched up. You don’t need an intern leaving a nasty scar on his face. Just page his parents while I check him out.”

 The daycare instructor, Bethany, nodded in appreciation and Alex walked them over to a nearby exam room. He asked a nurse to bring him a suture kit and had Bethany place the crying boy on the bed. The kid was cute. He had wild brown hair and big hazel eyes that looked up at him in awe and wonder, “Hey kiddo, my name is Dr. Alex. What’s yours?”

 “Liam,” the little boy responded, the tears that had once been running down his face now dried.

 For some reason, Alex felt a connection to this kid. He couldn’t explain it. Of course, he’d bonded with patients in the past, but this was different. He’d known this boy for all of two minutes and already felt his protective instincts kick in. Alex decided to try to make some conversation, “Well, hi Liam. I see that you hurt your head a bit there. Do you think you can follow some instructions that I give you?”

 Liam attempted a nod but winced in pain a bit, “Yes Dr. Awex.”

 Alex seriously did not know what was wrong with him. Every time this little boy opened his mouth, he felt the love and affection he had for him increase. What the hell is wrong you? He’s not even your kid. You find your soulmate and all of a sudden you are overwhelmed by the desire to procreate? Shaking the thoughts out of his head, Alex looked over to Bethany, “Can you go make sure one of his parents are on their way? I’m going to do a quick neuro exam and some stitches. They might want to be here for that.”

 The two boys watched as Bethany nodded and walked out the room. Liam looked back up at Alex, “Is she getting my mommy?”

 “Yeah buddy, she is. Now how about you say we make sure you didn’t hit your head too hard when you fell,” Alex proceeded to go about his exam while trying to divert Liam’s attention from the needles he was about to use to close up the head lac.

 Meanwhile in OR 4, Jo had been trying her best to ignore the looks and questions Dr. Yang was sending her way. The first two hours had been mostly quiet, with Yang only speaking in order to teach or give instructions. Now that they were entering their third hour in surgery, Yang seemed to have loosened up a little bit, “Oh come on, give me something. You are Alex Karev’s soulmate, who just so happens to be one of my best friends. I care about him and I love him—if you ever say that I will deny it. What’s your story?”

 This was getting tiring. All Jo wanted was to distract Yang long enough to stop asking questions. Jo was this close to giving in and answering Yang’s questions when a nurse rushed into the room, “Dr. Wilson, Ms. Bethany from daycare called to let you know that your son fell and sustained a head injury. He’s being checked out by a doctor in an exam room nearby the daycare. The doctor said that he’s okay, but he’s going to require some stitches.”

 Jo looked up at the nurse with a panicked expression, “Oh my God. What the hell happened?”

 “I’m not sure of all the details, but your son was requesting your presence.”

 “Well that explains part of the story,” Cristina mumbled to herself. She looked over at the intern standing in front of her. “Go, take care of your kid. We’ll be okay here. Take the rest of the day off while you’re at it.”

 “Thank you so much Dr. Yang,” Jo rushed out of the OR and scrubbed out quickly. She hurried out of the scrub room into the hallway and made her way to the elevators. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

 As soon as she made it to the daycare, Jo asked for her son’s whereabouts. She had finally reached the door of the exam room when she heard a familiar peel of laughter on the other side. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that her son was laughing and steadied herself as she opened the door.

 Alex had been having the time of his life stitching Liam’s head lac up. Sure, he was great with kids, his job required it. But spending time with this kid is different. Alex was sure that he’d never clicked with a kid as much as this one. And he was kind of hilarious. The four-year-old was very bright for his age and had a sense of humor better than most adults. In the fifteen minutes that had passed, Alex learned that he and Liam had the same favorite color (green), favorite ice cream flavor (s’mores), they even shared a middle name. On top of that they were both obsessed with babies—Alex was a peds surgeon and Liam said that he was constantly asking his mom when they would have a baby.

 Alex had just promised to sneak Liam up to the hospital nursery when the door opened. With his back was to the door, Alex spoke to the parent he’d assumed had walked in, “Oh, hey. I’m Dr. Karev. I just was in the daycare visiting my niece when your son fell. He got a few stitches, but other than that he’s just fine.”

 Finally turning around, Alex came face to face with his wide-eyed soulmate. Confused, he stared at her dumbly as she stood unmoving like a deer in headlights. The moment was broken when Liam look up and grinned, “Mommy!”

 Breaking out of her trance, Jo looked up at the little boy sitting on the exam table, “Hey baby! I heard you took a fall in daycare. Are you okay?”

 “Yup,” Liam nodded happily. “Dr. Awex fixed me up! He’s so funny, mommy. We wike wots of the same tings and he pwomised to take me to see the babies!”

 “Really? You love babies don’t you,” Jo smiled at her son and glanced quickly at Alex.

 “Uh huh! Dr. Awex fixes babies,” Liam grinned brightly. “I want to fix babies too!”

 “You do, huh? Well, I’m sure he’d love to teach you one day,” Jo wrapped her son in her arms and hugged him closed. She looked up at Alex, “Was he good?”

 “Oh yeah, he was great,” Alex gave her one of his crooked grins. “So, he’s yours?”

 “Yeah, I had him a couple months before I started med school. It’s just us,” Jo felt her heart pick up in speed the more she looked at him. If this whole soulmate thing was true, the Jo was sure that his heart was beating equally as quickly. “Thank you for taking care of him.”

 “Of course,” Alex took a deep breath. This was all too surreal. He was standing in an exam room with his soulmate and her son and he’d never felt more at home. He didn’t want this to end. “You know, I was telling Liam here that maybe I’d try to get him some ice cream. What if we all go together? I know this really great place a couple blocks away. I’ve taken my niece, Zola there a couple times and she loves it.”

 Jo felt like she was dreaming. There was no way this was real. There was no way that her soulmate wanted to take her and her son out for ice cream. This didn’t happen in real life. It only happened in all the rom coms she’d grown to despise over the years. Men were never this good, but somehow, she could tell that Alex was. Jo turned to her son who looked at her with pleading eyes. Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to say no, she smiled, “I think the two of us would like that very much.”

 And they did enjoy it. The trio looked like the sweetest little family as they went out for ice cream that night. Both Jo and Alex had been commented to on separate occasions by multiple people regarding their adorable dynamics. It was almost strange how normal it felt to be out and about with each other. Maybe it was because Liam was there acting as a buffer, but neither Jo nor Alex could remember why they’d been skeptical in the first place.

 Alex offered to give Jo and Liam a ride home after leaving the ice cream parlor. They’d taken the bus to the hospital that morning and Jo had been planning on taking it back when Alex insisted on getting them home safely. When they finally arrived at Jo’s apartment, Liam refused to go inside and go to sleep unless Alex tucked him into bed. Jo had tried reasoning with Liam, but Alex assured her that it was fine, and he wouldn’t mind reading Liam a bedtime story or two.

 So, that’s how she found herself standing in the doorway of her son’s room, watching as her new soulmate laughed with her son as he read a book to Liam. Jo’s heart fluttered at the scene. Her soulmate and her son had bonded in a matter of hours. Her soulmate actually existed and he was here in her home, tucking her son into bed as if he’d done it a hundred times before.

 When Alex was done, he pulled the covers up over Liam’s small frame and ruffled his hair. He turned off the light and walked out the door, finding Jo standing in the living room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Hey.”

 “Hey,” Jo breathed out a shaky breath. “Thanks for… everything today. You really didn’t have to do all that.”

 “It was nothing,” Alex shrugged bashfully. “I—uh, I had fun.”

 The stood in awkward silence for a few minutes, each person staring at the ground. It’s wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say, it was that there were too many things to say and neither one of them know where to start.

 "You don't have to do this," Jo shook her head. "I come with a lot of baggage, more than you probably bargained for. I have a very complicated past and I don't trust people easily. On top of that, have a kid. He's the most important person in my life. So if you don't think you can handle all that, it's okay. I won't hold it against you. I'm giving you an out."

 Alex looked at her curiously, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

 "What?" Jo scrunched her eyebrows.

 "Are you free tomorrow night?” Alex repeated.

 “Uh—yeah,” Jo looked at him strangely. “Why?”

 “Go out with me tomorrow, just us. I can ask Meredith if she can babysit. Liam can play with Zola,” Alex offered.

 Jo could feel her heart beating wildly. The nerves in her stomach increasing, “Okay.”

  *****

 The date was a disaster. Everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong. To be fair, Alex wasn’t really one to go on dates. Which is why he’d enlisted the help of Kepner and Robbins to set up the perfect first date. They had given him a list of suggestions of all the places he could take Jo and all the things they could do.

 Of course, nothing went as planned. The restaurant they were going to eat at, didn’t have a table available. The movie they were going to watch was sold out. They missed their ferry, lost their tickets to the Seattle Great Wheel, and got stuck in traffic for about an hour.

 Finally deciding to screw it, Alex ordered a pizza and fried chicken, bought a six pack of beer, and drove up to one of the cliffs just outside the city. He grabbed the blanket that was in the trunk of his car and set it outside in the grass. Jo hopped out and put the food and beers on the ground.

 They spent some time talking about their pasts. They talked about their upbringing, discovering that they had a lot more in common than they would’ve thought. Alex shared about his first marriage and Jo shared hers. She told him about her name and why she chose it. They’d been making self-deprecating jokes and laughing while stargazing when it started to pour out of nowhere. They laugh and squeal as they hurry back into the car. Alex turned the heater on to help them warm up. He looked back at Jo and grimaced, "I am so sorry. This night has been a disaster. I should’ve known I would’ve screwed it up.”

 “Are you kidding?” Jo looked at Alex in disbelief. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this much ever. I’ve had more fun tonight than I have in a long time.”

 “Really?” Alex raised his eyebrows. “You don’t care that we’re sitting in my car, soaked, eating pizza and fried chicken while drinking a couple of beers.”

 “I don’t mind at all, honestly. I prefer this to fancy restaurants and cheesy movies,” Jo smiled brightly. Looking at Alex, she felt butterflies. She felt seen, she felt heard, she felt happy. “You know, I didn’t believe in all this. I didn’t believe that there was someone out there specifically made for me. I thought it was all a made-up fairytale that people just tried so hard to hold on to because life sucks sometimes. But meeting you, talking to you… I know that I want to do this for the rest of my life.”

 “I do too,” Alex gave her a crooked grin. In the past few hours, he knew he’d fallen in love with this woman. “Can I kiss you?”

 Jo felt her cheeks heat up. She nodded shyly, “Yes.”

 Alex leaned in and pulled Jo into a passionate kiss, leaving her breathless. Nothing had ever felt more right in her life. She wanted to stay here in his arms and never leave and so did he. Alex would give anything to stay in that moment forever.

 When they finally broke apart, both were grinning like idiots. Alex tucked a piece of hair behind Jo’s ear, “That was definitely worth the twenty years I spent looking at my clock wishing I could just hurry up and meet you.” He looked at the time on the dashboard of his car. “It’s getting late. We should go pick up Liam at Mer’s and I’ll drop you guys off at your place.”

 “Or… we could see if she wouldn’t mind keeping him overnight. He’s probably asleep now anyway. It would be a shame to wake him up,” Jo looked up at him mischievously.  

 “It would be a shame,” Alex nodded in understanding. His face broke out into a smirk. “Guess I’ll just be taking you home instead.”

  ******

  One year later….

 “Okay, you remember the plan?”

 “Yes, Daddy!” Liam nodded his little head at Alex. He was jumping with excitement. Today, his Daddy was going to propose to his Mommy. His Daddy wasn’t always his Daddy, though. For a long time, it was just Liam and Mommy. Now, the nice doctor that stitched up his head was his new Daddy and Liam couldn’t be happier. “Will Mommy like the ring?”

 “I sure hope so, because I spent a lot of money on that thing,” Alex muttered under his breath. “You’re going to make sure that Mommy walks over here to the fountain when it’s time. Got it?”

 “Got it!”

 Minutes later, Alex was standing by the fountain in downtown waiting for his son to lead his soulmate to where he was waiting for them. He paced nervously as he watched them round the corner, Liam pulling on his mom’s coat sleeve to get her to hurry. As they approached, Alex took a deep breath and adjusted his tie. He smiled as the two people he loved most in the world came to a halt in front of him.

 “Hi,” Alex smiled cheekily.

 “Hi,” Jo beamed in return. “What are you doing here? And why are you wearing a suit?”

 “I’m here because, I have something to say. And I decided to do it in public with Liam present so that I couldn’t’ chicken out,” Alex chuckled and looked down at the ground before lifting his gaze to meet Jo’s once more. “Jo, from the moment I met you, everything in my life suddenly made sense. Right then, I met the person I knew I was going to love for the rest of my life. You have changed me. I am a better man because of you and Liam. I want to grow old with you. I want to be by your side until we’re old and gray and yelling at each other about who was a better surgeon.”

 Jo let out a laugh as tears filled her eyes. Alex leaned in for a brief kiss before finally getting down on one knee, “I love you. So, Jo Wilson, will you marry me?”

 Jo’s breath hitched, “Yes.”

 “Yes?”

 “Yes! Alex, I can’t wait to marry you.”

 “Mommy and Daddy are getting married!” Liam squealed from where he was standing.

 Alex and Jo laughed at Liam’s excitement, “Yeah, we are.”

[tahitianmangoes]

The story of Clementine Quinn

I literally spent all morning just writing this. I usually can’t just sit down an write like this and it turned out more like a mini fic(?) than a biopage but I hope it’s ok!

@fangirl-ramblings​ I know you were interested in seeing it too so I’ll tag you here ^^;;;

Zhang Xiaomeng was nineteen when he came to America from Harbin in China looking for a better life. He had heard of the promise of the Golden Mountain and hoped to work enough to get his family out of the debt that his own father had put them in through his drink and gambling addictions.

Xiaomeng arrived at Angel Island after a long and treacherous  boat ride with many other Chinese, Japanese and Filipinos only to find that America wasn’t a land of freedom, nor was it paved with gold… At least not for him and other non whites.

Americans wanted cheap Chinese labour to do the jobs they would never dream of doing, so he began working just outside of Annesburg building a railway with other Asian immigrants.

The labour was backbreaking and many of his friends collapsed due to exhaustion and malnutrition. Some ran away but if caught, they would be beaten and not be permitted food or water as a punishment. Xiaomeng saw many of his friends die. It hardened him. He realised that the life he had chosen here had been a lie.

Determined to live, he took his opportunity to escape one night when the guards were drunk and ran away to Saint Denis. There had to be more to life here than building railroads. 

Xiaomeng hoped that Saint Denis would be different and in many ways it was. He was able to find lodgings with other Chinese people and made friends. But the fear, segregation and racism hadn’t gone away. With American swept away in an ocean of yellow peril, Xiaomeng would often find himself being chased or attacked in the street with no one batting an eyelid. Chinese people who owned businesses had them burnt down and it was common for someone to not return home and never be seen again. 

Xiaomeng had made friends with a young Chinese man who worked washing pots in a restaurant but one day, he stopped showing up for work. Xiomeng found that there was little use going to the police for help. They didn’t care about the likes of Xioming and other immigrants; they made fun of his broken English and thick Chinese accent and told him to get out before they threw him in a cell. 

Saint Denis is where Xiomeng met Clementine’s mother.

He was able to find work in a general store whose owner took pity on the poor immigrant boy. Xiaomeng promised he would work harder than any white person the owner had ever employed and he made good on his promise. Xiaomeng did everything from cleaning the store and the storefront, riding out to get supplies, making sure the shelves were always full and appealing  and delivering goods in and around Saint Denis to customers. 

Elizabeth Quinn, the daughter of a wealthy Irish-American family who owned properties in Saint Denis and Blackwater.

Elizabeth was sheltered and inexperienced, never having left Saint Denis. She grew up with a governess and was distant with her parents whom she didn’t see too often. By the time she was eighteen, her family had made an agreement with another family in Blackwater who had an unmarried son of thirty-three named Lewis Clark. The Clark family had made their money in the cotton trade but now owned a mining company in Annesburg.

Elizabeth had never met Lewis. She hated the idea that she wasn’t marrying for love and was marrying a man who was almost double her age. It was a transaction and she wasn’t an item to be sold.

The arrangement was purely monetary; Elizabeth’s father would allow Lewis to marry his only daughter in exchange for partnership in the mining business and other business ventures in Blackwater.

Elizabeth met Xiaomeng when he began delivering goods from the general store to her home a few times a week. 

She was struck by how handsome he was, he was lean from the manual labour. His jet black hair was worn long but tied back so that Elizabeth could see his face, his skin a golden brown and his eyes a shimmering amber. 

She had never really met anyone from outside the house before other than the people who were invited around for her parents parties but none of them looked like Xiaomeng .

Xiaomeng was also struck by Elizabeth’s beauty. Elizabeth had long red hair and bright blue eyes, she was slender and graceful - beauty without contrivity. 

Xiomeng was so enraptured by her that he dropped everything he was carrying when he first saw her in the gardens as he made his way to the back door where the kitchens were. Glass shattered and the contents spilled all over the floor causing a commotion. Elizabeth stepped in and took the blame, knowing that Xiaomeng would be punished harshly if she told the truth.

Xiaomeng had a kind smile and while he didn’t speak English well and Elizabeth didn’t know a word of Chinese, there was most definitely something between them that neither of them could explain, like the world was pushing them together.

Elizabeth made sure she was always in the garden for when Xiaomeng came with his delivery. 

The pair started a secret relationship, Xiaomeng would slip Elizabeth little notes that the wife of the general store owner would help him compose and Elizabeth would write letters in return that she spritzed with her perfume. Xiaomeng kept all of the letters, the only thing that had any value to him in this world.

On Xiaomeng notes, he would tell Elizabeth when he days off were and Elizabeth would meet him in town. Many places wouldn’t let Xiaomeng in, so they would walk to the edge of Saint Denis by the water and talk. Sometimes, they would go back to Xiomeng’s house which was usually empty during the day but sometimes, the other people he shared with were there and Elizabeth soon became friends with them. Neither Xiomeng or Elizabeth understood the other too well to begin with but with but love has its own language.

Soon, Elizabeth fell pregnant. The pair knew they didn’t have long to figure out what to do - the engagement to Lewis was to be announced soon. Xiaomeng wanted to run away with Elizabeth; he promised her he would always take care of her and their baby, no matter what: they’d get married and live happily. But both knew that with the exclusion act, they would never be allowed to marry or live any sort of normal life.

Maybe it had all just been a silly dream which was rapidly turning into a nightmare…

Elizabeth began to show, despite trying to cover her bump with baggier clothes but it was fruitless; one of the men who worked for Elizabeth’s father had seen Elizabeth with Xiaomeng in town one day. 

The word got to her father who flew into a rage. Still worried about his business plans, he tried to arrange for a doctor to “take care of things” but by this time, word had reached Lewis Clark and his family in Blackwater and the engagement was promptly called off.

Elizabeth pleaded with her father but he went to the store where Xiaomeng worked with some of his men, dragging him into the street by his hair and proceeded to beat him in front of everyone saying that this filthy chinaman, this filthy dog had defiled his daughter and ruined his business. Xiaomeng couldn’t fight back, he was outnumbered and no one would step in to help - he knew that.

They kept beating and beating until the dusty road turned crimson and Xiaomeng’s handsome face was no longer recognisable. He crumpled lifelessly to the floor where he lay motionless, Elizabeth’s father didn’t stop, he stamped on Xiaomeng’s head until there was a sickening crack and then silence.

The crowd quietened and soon dispersed, leaving only Elizabeth at the foul scene, howling and weeping for her one true love. 

Elizabeth knew she had to leave. She was terrified that when the baby came, her family would take it away from her - her last part of Xiaomeng.

Clementine was born in 1873  somewhere in Tall Trees where she had a fairly happy childhood. She liked nature and animals, Elizabeth doted on her and they spent many happy days in their small homestead not too far from a dam where they would fish. Elizabeth would sell the fish in Strawberry, it didn’t pay a lot but it kept them clothed and fed. 

When Clementine was thirteen, Elizabeth became ill. Dysentery. She told Clementine to go to a woman she had met in Strawberry who would take care of her - when Elizabeth was better, Clementine could come back. Only Elizabeth didn’t get better and she knew she never would.

Clementine never saw her mother again.

Clementine went to Strawberry to find the woman whose name was Miss Burgess. Miss Burgess was in her sixties or so and was a mean woman. Clementine worked for her for a while cleaning houses owned by rich, fancy folk. It was hard work and Clementine barely saw a penny once Miss Burgess had taken her share.  Clementine shared a room with several other girls and boys around the same age who all worked for Miss Burgess. Clementine didn’t make any friends in that time and remembered crying herself to sleep many nights on the itchy bedroll she slept on on the cold floor of that room.

By the time she turned fourteen, Miss Burgess decided to sell Clementine to a wealthy man who was looking for a girl to live with him, take care of the house and such...

Elizabeth had raised Clementine to be vigilant and never to really trust anyone. Clementine knew what the man’s intentions were and when she arrived at his impressive house outside of Blackwater. He wasn’t all that old, perhaps thirty or so but his parents had died and left him the property and a lot of money. 

Clementine was to cook and clean for him. She felt uncomfortable in his presence, his eyes lingered too long on her and he would make excuses to touch her on the shoulder or small of the back.

It didn’t take long for him to call her to his study. He asked her to sit in his lap and although she didn’t want to, although she knew she shouldn’t, before she knew it, he was pulling her towards him and sitting her down on him.

He made advances on her, telling her that she was pretty and mature for her age and he could make her a woman, hands roaming her body while a prickly wave of sickness crashed over her. 

She felt his horrible, hot lips on her neck. As he did this, Clementine seemed to go into autopilot. She saw a glint of sliver on his desk, a letter opener. Before she could think, she had grabbed it and stabbed him in the neck, driving the blade to the hilt. She watched him clutch uselessly at his throat as he gasped for air. When he stopped breathing, Clementine looted the house of everything she could sell and left for Saint Denis, the place her mother hated so much.

She thought she would feel something by killing him: fear, excitement or disgust? She felt nothing. 

****

Clementine hoped to find herself in Saint Denis but all she found was crowded streets and people who didn’t care, especially for someone who looked like her; her curly red hair was enough at first glance for people to mistake her for white but her small mono-lidded eyes, tanned skin and flat nose gave her away as impure.

Too white for other Chinese people but too Chinese for white people - Clementine has never been  accepted anywhere.

She eventually fell in with a group of street kids who initially tried to pickpocket her but she had fought them off with relative ease, leaving one with a broken nose and a bruised ego. For some reason, they took a shine to her and taught her how to pickpocket, where to run and hide from the law and most importantly, how to make friends. 

She became close with an Irish boy named Oliver who joined the gang not too long before her. Clementine didn’t know love but knew that when she was with him, the world made sense and the anger that seethed inside of her settled. She was… happy, just like she’d been with her mother.

Oliver was a year older than her and a good hear or two taller. Lanky with a gap between his two front teeth and freckles across his nose. He probably cared more for Clementine than Clementine cared for him and he would be the first to admit that but that was ok. It was the innocent kind of love that only young teens were capable of having. 

Oliver flushed redder than the paint of a pillar box when Clementine allowed him to hold her hand as they walked the streets together. 

Oliver stole clothes and jewellery for her but Clementine has never cared about her appearance or expensive gifts. She liked having someone to talk before she went to sleep at night and she liked knowing that he would be there again in the morning. She found that sharing things was nice. She wanted to share everything with Oliver. 

The small amount of money she had went towards her horse, a gorgeous chestnut red Turkoman who she had spent months and months saving for and when she produced the right amount of notes at the stable, the stablemaster had all but fallen over in surprise. The horse was her most loyal friend. Clementine loved animals and often fed the stray cats and dogs of Saint Denis, much to the disdain of others. Clementine felt calm amongst the animals, almost as if they understood her better than any human ever could. Maybe one day, her and Oliver would own a farm or stables together. 

Clementine stayed with the gang until she was seventeen. 

Oliver hadn’t been seen for a few days, which wasn’t unusual if he had found work somewhere so Clementine didn’t worry too much. Oliver knew how to take care of himself; he was able to think on his feet and he was able to talk himself out of almost any situation. One afternoon when Clementine was wandering aimlessly through the overcrowded streets, she noticed a gathering at the park. As she edged closer to see what was happening, she saw that there was another public hanging.

Although Clementine had killed before, public hangings made her sick - to think that people came out to watch someone die was horrific. 

Her blood ran cold, however, as she recognised one of the men standing on the gallows, that befreckled skinny boy. Oliver. He’d been caught rustling cattle. She did her best to fight through the crowd towards him, pushing people out of her way and despite her strength, she was still small of stature and couldn’t reach the front.

She heard the door open, heard the rope unravel and heard Oliver choke out his last few breaths. When she reached the front, she saw that while his body was limp, his eyes were still open. She wondered if he had seen her.

****

In 1898, Clementine Quinn is now 25.  She left Saint Denis soon after Oliver was hung and now she travels from place to place, trying to make sense of the world.  She met a beautiful woman named Madam Nazar who buys trinkets and interesting objects that Clementine acquires on her journeys. She recently started helping an older woman named Maggie Fike with a moonshine business - it’s dangerous work with revenue agents at every corner but Clementine doesn’t mind. 

She hates this country; the country that looks on while others suffer or condemns people for the colour of their skin. Maybe one day she’ll leave and start  again somewhere new.

Since leaving Saint Denis, she’s been a loner and a wanderer. She’s found that other people can’t be trusted and will almost always use you in the end. And getting close to people only complicates things... She always leaves before it gets to that point. Maybe that makes her selfish but she doesn’t care. The world has never shown her any mercy so why should she show mercy to the world?

[claudiafekete]

This is another ordinary story of “how xxx fandoms changed my life” -

- or maybe not. you decide. I want to write it down.  trigger warning for politics, discussion of sexual violence, mild gender dysphoria It’s also horribly long. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. 

When I first came to tumblr, I had just graduated from APH. Short for Axis Power Hetalia. I learned about it in the form of manga. For years it was my everything - I learned what fanfic or fanart meant and I learned the basic online etiquette. As I grew in years, it accompanied me.

Until it didn’t.

Shortly after I fell into solangelo.

It’s a fun story, how I picked up PJO years after years of absence. My brother was whining about something written in Magnus Chase. “What do you think the Norse Gods were going to do to Percy that Annabeth was crying?” He demanded. I expressed my confusion. He kept on with his different theories and I made the decision to look it up online later.

My online search of Percy Jackson’s fate soon revealed something unknown to me before: solangelo. The first canon gay ship I ever knew. Therefore, at the ripe old age of 19, I threw myself into this endless hole called “tumblr” for the first time.

It was the most LGBTQ+ friendly place I had ever been. I joke you not. It was also the place where I was taught not only how a healthy relationship should look like, but also how sex should or could be like.  You don’t learn anything healthy about sex in Chinese or Mandarin using fandom, at least during the years I was in them. There were rigid 攻/受(roughly translated as top/bottom) stereotypes that everyone rushed to squeezed their characters into them. A lot of time though both person might ship A with B, they wouldn’t interact because one thought A should top and another thought B should top. Their different topping designation resulted in depictions of the characters’ personalities so dramatically differed that you couldn’t recognize them as the same characters.  Other than the refreshing relationship dynamics, Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard offered me a chance to take a look at my gender identity. I had known that theoretically non-binary people existed outside of binary gender, but I hadn’t known how one might live as one or describe themselves as one. I’m not trying to claim that Alex Fierro’s story is the only story of non-binary people. I’m trying to say that it was the starting point for me to make exploration and find the label  “agender” for myself.

I stayed in APH for 6 years. I had expected to stay in solangelo for longer.

Entered June 2019 with its whispers and anxious demonstrations. Entered folks pouring into streets in Hong Kong. Entered tear gas and facemasks and sticks and a bullet scarcely missing the heart and journalists beaten by police. Entered young students not of age disappearing mysteriously. Entered people dressed in white attacking citizens and not arrested by police. Entered dead bodies that were probably “被自殺 (being suicided)”.

Entered a city falling into the hands of tyrants next to your door, and you didn’t know how to help. You didn’t know what to do with yourself with your clean and spare hands. You were so far away from the frontline, you were angry and helpless and hopeless for that.

It was the first time I witnessed, first-hand, how the Chinese government directed the discussion online, so that it seemed as if there were random mobs who were disturbing the peace of Hong Kong and possibly taking money or being trained by US.  “Bullshit. Would there still be so many kids hurt on street if we have received any kinds of training for this?“  Of course, the majority of Chinese people inland wouldn’t hear that. Hong Kong is a former colony. Any calls of outrage toward the present government must be made by disillusioned young people who were unaware of colonization and imperialism. 

That was why I took refugee in Good Omens. I needed to run some where to stop myself from scratching myself to blood. I needed to some works for these clean and spare hands to do so that they wouldn’t pick up something destructive, such as a knife.

If the PJOverse fandom had felt the best place on earth, well, the Good Omens fandom lifted me into paradise. 

I’ve never seen so much kindness being showed under one tag. The creators and actors were all kind and interacted with the fans in their own ways. We were encouraged to do everything, anything, to build art with it however we liked. We as fans were recognized. We were seen. We were ... cared for. It was overwhelming, in a good way.  For that, I would be forever thankful to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett and Michael Sheen and so many others in the production. I would be forever thankful to artists who liberated body types and freed the ties between gender expression and genitals. I would be forever thankful for the fantastic creators out there.

Would it seem as if I’ve only cherished the mutuals I met in Good Omens fandom? It wasn’t my intention. There are friends I keep in touch long after I fell out of love with APH. There are mutuals I got to know through solangelo and I feel, I hope that we are friends. Everyone who has chat with me I do my best to remember. (Though I do left conversation in weird places, become so ashamed of my incompetency that I do not continue them.)

What I’m trying to say is, as good as the solangelo fandom was, I still ran into biphobic posts here and there. It was only once or twice – but it was a constant reminder that being bisexual didn’t seem “valid” to some of the other LGBTQ+ members out there. Who cares what cis-gendered, heteronormative people said? Bullets that shot from friendly fire hurt the worst.

Besides, with a large and vibrant fandom like Good Omens, it’s easier to feel less alone and more… seen.

Damn right. Even after writing more that 5000 words in English it is still so easy to fall back into the comfortable nest of mother tongue. I can read simplified Chinese characters as well as the traditional Chinese characters I grow up using. There probably will never be getting the accent right but soundlessly devouring words in front of a screen? I excel at that.

That was what’s happening when the days rolled into January, 2020. I flew to US as an exchange student and exchanged long letters with a young Chinese woman I met in Good Omens fandom. I’ve never felt so alone in life. English as in creative writing has never come more naturally for me. The words burst in my head and arranged themselves freely on screen or on papers. I’ve never felt more hopeful about my writing ability.

The days rolled into March, 2020.

The first time my mom told me to come home over home, I laughed. The second time, I frowned. Before she pleaded me for the third time, I had grabbed a ticket.

I hadn’t imagined the disease plaguing China and its neighboring countries would affect the whole world.

You lived the rest of the story. I fled back to Taiwan.

 That was where Doctor Who came in. Or David Tennant. Such a strange time. For fourteen days I was the only living human in the house. I watched Casanova – or was it later? Hamlet definitely came before that. Then I could live with my family again. I handed in my homework and wrote in a different language than the people around me were speaking. My parents were working. My little brother was in school. When there was no one to talk to me I either read or watch Doctor Who to pass the time. I fell for Thirteen. I fell for twissy. Falling fast and hard and completely won over by their glamour.

I started internship. There were some small breaks where I could catch an episode or half, but never as much time as before. I dipped into fandom wiki and found that no matter how much research I did, there would always be details I overlooked simply because I could not afford hours watching all the episodes. No matter how hard I squeezed my schedule for time, no matter how much I devoted myself to the series, it would never be enough.

So I gave up, and let it go. For the first time in quite a while, I willingly gave up something for the simple reason of “I want to live a more comfortable life”.

 Came summer. Damp air combined with biting heat and piles after piles of biochemical terms made life agonizing. An ordinary kind of pre-pandemic “agonizing” which felt like a luxury in a world that was ending.

Hong Kong fell.

It was bound to happen. Once I heard protestors fought their way into the legislature I knew, for almost an year I knew, nothing good would come out of this. CCP would never allow its subjects acting out of hand. With such open despise to the authority, CCP would take nothing but a full conquest at the end of it.

See where we are now. As long as you’re “interfering” the political climate “inside” China, it doesn't matter which nationality you hold or where you were or how long it has been since you made the statement. “According to the law”, China can come for you. No, better, it can tell your country to hand you over. What a clever empire. What a graceful empire.

What a horrifying empire.

With the news I spiraled down fast. I kept away from the young Chinese woman I was exchanging letters with, I kept away from any kinds of Chinese social media, and the worst of all, I kept away from Good Omens, for it was sweet and kind and hopeful, for it reminded me of a time where fighting seemed to make a difference. I was empty and exhausted and a husk. Something must come out to fill the void. Someone needed to paint me in colors so that the world wouldn’t notice I was fading away.

I was surprised at who took the brush.

 After ten years, the first man I ever have a crush on strolled back into my life.

He was over thirty, but I always pictured him in his early twenties. Dark hair, eyes of grey or silvery blue. Loud laughter that sounded like a bark. Swift and elegant. Intelligent. Prideful. Stubborn. I embraced him as I’ve done ten years ago as a little child.

When I looked past him, I saw someone else.

Worn, weathered, with wry humor. Attentive and considerate. Tortured by the world yet never stop giving out kindness. Countless scars. Grey hair unfitting to his age. I didn’t pay him much attention ten years ago. This time, I looked.

Let me introduce you Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, my very first crush and the man who is too much like my last crush.

 2020, a month before Fall semester started, I trekked cautiously, timidly back into Harry Potter fandom.

The fandom of August 2020 was very different from fandom of 2010. The lack of author, for one – it became mandatory to denounce the author’s transphobic statement and other bigotry setting. I’m glad that everyone is doing their best to make it a friendly place for minority groups. Though I’m afraid, by making it a white or black situation with short statements and no discussion, it wouldn’t really help people understand why she is wrong in this. However irrefutable the author’s guilt seems to us, it is not something obvious to those who are unfamiliar with the subjects.

But it does feel good to see blogs and fics with the introduction such as “If you support the author’s transphobic bullshit this place does not welcome you”. It feels reliving.

The second was, I found the type of work I’m actively pursuing changed.

Back when I was young – when I was so little I didn’t even know what the word “fandom” meant – I read Character x OFC and some M x M. During the APH period I read an alarming amount of M x M and countless historical AU. When digging through solangelo, beside the canon divergence stories, simple AU like coffee shop grabbed my attention. Coming out stories were my comforts. The best of Good Omens fics were either in canon verse discussing desires, bravery, humanity and mortality, or setting in an AU with the promise of sweet, fluffy endings. Doctor Who almost always focused on Time and Space. Love was twisted and so often tainted by anger. Monster and god were very alike.

I came a full circle back to the Marauder era, and found myself not looking for heroes, but for young fighters struggling desperately in a seemingly hopeless war. I looked for people who were frightened but never, never ever going down without a fight.

I used to find characters and events unfolding in foreign places, now I want  characters who are close to what I am or what I want to be.

---

So, that’s it, my grand journey through multiple fandoms and basically a journey of self-discovery. It’s messy, sometimes painful, but always with so much joy blooming along the way.

Something doesn’t change. I’m still obsessed with words. I’m still a sucker for happy ending. I’m still wishing someone will come and love me the way I need to be loved.

Something does. I stop imagining that some magical power will come into my life and solve everything. I stop looking for others to save me from myself. I start believing that though wounds hurt, some of them do teach us to be a better person.

Long ago, I saw my friends and I as rabbits, without proper weapons to defend ourselves. That wouldn’t do. I thought. For my friends I’ll grow into a snake with fangs to protect them. Maybe I have grown into a snake. Maybe I haven’t. But I do hope I won’t stop fighting for those I love, with those I love.

I hope I won’t give up.

[kate-apologist]

”Did you do this to yourself?” and “I can’t trust you alone right now.” with maybe a near self destructive thirteen?

i altered the first line a little bit to fit with my ideas, but it stays fairly accurate to the original purpose. this is a little rushed because i got sidetracked and wanted to finish it tonight, so it’s not my best work but i hope it’s pretty enjoyable

Fire Burns Under Your Feet (1207)

They agreed that the next time they saw the Doctor, they wouldn't let her out of their sight. It was Ryan's idea, the thought that the Doctor needed someone to keep an eye on her. She'd been getting so reckless, enough that the Fam were ready to stage an intervention of sorts. And just as they were starting to set their plan into motion (such as it was) the Doctor had dropped them off for a weekend at home and had disappeared for a week and a half.

At first, it hadn’t been cause for worry. The Doctor often got time periods mixed up, frequently showing up a few hours to a few days later than when she'd told them. But when a few days stretched into a week, almost stretching into a second week, they started to worry. While Yaz got swept away into work and Ryan continued to study for his exams, Graham had time to turn his worry to where the Doctor would be at. Well, he had time beyond the meetings he had with some of the other bus drivers in the area as well as taking food to the nurses at the hospital where Grace used to work.

By the time they all came together once again, over a week had passed and Yaz was nearing sick with worry. 

"She should be back by now," Yaz said. "She's not answering her phone, I can't seem to get a hold of her by calling by texting, nothing. She's just dropped off the map."

"She's probably just a little late as usual, Yaz," Ryan said. "We all know the Doctor, how she tends to miss her landings a bit. Sure, it's a little longer than normal, but I really don't think that it's anything to worry about. She's the Doctor, she'll be back soon." He rested a hand on her shoulder but she pulled away, glancing out the window. She'd been hearing the TARDIS all week, that noise that was so familiar to her.

"Something's wrong," Yaz said. "She answers her phone or the TARDIS does. I always get an answer but I haven't gotten one for a week, Ryan. A week."

"It's not like we can go looking for her cockle," Graham said gently. "We just have to trust that the Doctor knows what she's doing."

"I don't know if-"

There was a dull thud outside the front door. Ryan jumped up from the couch and rushed for it, grabbing the handle to pull it open. The Doctor was slumped against the front porch, covered in dirt and tattered clothes.

"Hey Fam," she said quietly, looking up between the three of them. "Long time, no see. Reckon you can give me a hand up?"

Ryan was the first to react, helping the Doctor to her feet while Yaz stood off to the side, frozen for a second longer than he was. Then she was moving, lurching forward to loop the Doctor's arm around her shoulder and help her into Graham's house.

They got her settled quickly on the couch, checking her over for injuries and anything else that would explain why she was so late and why she looked so tired. Yaz settled in front of the couch, watching her while Graham went to get a wet cloth so they could wipe the dirt from her brow. It was only after Yaz had fallen asleep on the floor and Graham had gone to bed, Ryan staying up to keep an eye on the Doctor in case something went wrong, that the Doctor woke. 

“Mmm… Ryan?” she asked, blinking up at him sleepily. “What am I doin’ here?” she asked.

“You collapsed on the doorstep,” Ryan said. “We helped you into here and onto the couch. I’m keepin’ an eye on you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself even more.”

“Why would I do that?” she asked, though she blinked a couple times before shaking her head. “Don’t answer that.” She sat up, looked around the room. “Love this sofa,” she said, and was about to roll off the couch before she winced in pain, clutching at her chest. “Oohhh,” she said quietly. “That wasn’t there before.”

“What is it?” Ryan asked, reaching for her shoulder. “Somethin’ with those bruises we saw earlier?” 

“Don’t worry about it, Ryan,” she said, shrugging him off. “I really should be going, though. Need to make sure the TARDIS is alright, repairs to be made.” She moved again and dropped back down to the couch with a groan. “Maybe I’ll sit here for a few moments.”

“Doctor, what happened?” Ryan asked quietly, eyeing Yaz briefly to check that she was still asleep. 

“Just a normal adventure. Were looking for something or another, can’t quite remember at the moment.” She shrugged, a distant look in her eye for a moment before she snapped back. “However, I do remember running into a nasty rock monster. Not really sure what it was, the sonic didn’t really have a lot of time to-”

“Doc, were you looking for a fight?" Ryan asked.

"Never!" The Doctor declared. "It was just very hostile. Barely made it out without getting hit a few times."

"Why didn't you wait for us or come get us or somethin’?" Ryan asked. "We coulda helped."

"Didn't want to waste your time," the Doctor said flippantly. "Stars know you don't have much of it-"

"Doctor, why are you doing this to yourself?" Ryan asked. “Throwing yourself into danger while we aren’t there. Surely there’s a better way-”

“I’m not doing anything,” the Doctor said simply, and then she didn’t speak another word. Ryan tried to lure her into conversation a couple times but to no avail. She sat silently, staring up at the ceiling until the sun rose. 

Ryan had to leave that morning to prepare for his tests, and Yaz took the day off work the moment she knew that Graham was making rounds elsewhere. It left her alone with the Doctor, something that wasn’t desirable at the moment, but she stood firm. 

“Someone has to stay with her,” she said quietly, moving away from where the Doctor was laying. “We can’t just leave her alone, who’s to say she won’t up and leave again, and then where will we be?”

“I’m not disagreeing with you cockle, I’m just hoping that one of us could stay behind and help you with it. Then it would at least be a little more fair to you.”

“I can handle the Doctor, Graham. I’ll make sure she’s resting all day and then when you two get back this evening we can all have a little chat about where she’s been for a week and a half.”

The boys nodded and left without much of another word, only pausing to say goodbye to the Doctor before they ducked out the door. The moment they were alone, the Doctor tried to get to her feet and follow the boys out the door.

“Oh no you don’t,” Yaz said, gently guiding her back down to the couch. “You’re staying right here. We can’t trust you alone right now.”

And the Doctor gave her the saddest look she’d ever given, and didn’t say another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

other prompt fills: x // x // x

prompt list

[spaztronautwriter]

Unexpecting: Part 3 (an Olicity fic)

A/N: This is the third and final part of the Unexpecting verse. Big thanks to @ham4arrow for reminding me it still needed an ending! I hope you enjoy it!

###

“Look at you two,” the obnoxiously cheerful, and equally obnoxiously skinny, Lamaze coach crooned as Oliver helped Felicity to her feet.

How dare she be so… so… energized when Felicity felt like she needed to take an eighteen hour nap? Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile, telling herself it wasn’t this bubbly brunette's fault that she felt exhausted whale all the time. It was just the miracle of birth.

And what a miracle it was. This baby had a habit of kicking her in the bladder until she peed herself.

“A power couple even in Lamaze class,” the coach finished with a brilliant smile.

She felt Oliver stiffen slightly where he was still holding her elbow for support, which caused her to open her big, stupid mouth.

“Oh, we’re not a couple. Nope, just friends. Friends and co-parents. Yup.”

Oliver twitched beside her, clearing his throat, and effectively ending her mini-babble.

The woman, Miss Jane as she’d asked to be called like she was teaching kindergarten instead of Lamaze, looked between them for a moment before smiling again, though it looked a little more awkward this time around. “Well, I’m sure you guys will be great at it. I hope you’ll bring Baby back to visit once they're born!”

Felicity gave her a polite, tight lipped smile. She was ready to go home, have something to eat, and relax on the couch for a while. She’d been on her feet at work all day and then this class… She was beyond ready to call it a day.

Of course Oliver, being Oliver, smiled brightly at the woman. “Of course! Can’t believe it’s almost time.”

Miss Jane smiled back at him, and the look in her eye made Felicity clench her jaw.

“From what I can tell,” Miss Jane said, reaching out to touch Oliver’s wrist, “you’re going to be a great father. And I can’t wait to meet this little guy.” She gestured to Felicity’s stomach without looking away from Oliver. “I bet he’s going to be just as handsome as his Daddy.”

“We haven’t actually found out the sex yet—“

“Oliver,” Felicity interrupted sharply, “I’m hungry.”

“Oh.” He turned to look at her and she graced him with a, hopefully, innocent smile. “Alright. Well, thank you,” he said, turning back to Miss Jane. “It was a great class.”

Without another word, Felicity looped her arm through Oliver’s and tugged him out of the classroom.

###

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing. She was just being nice.”

Felicity gaped at him as he opened the car door for her. “A big deal—Oliver, she was batting her eyes at you.”

“It was harmless flirting. Besides you’re the one who told her we weren’t together.”

“We aren’t together!”

“I know that, but we’re not not together.”

“That’s…” Felicity flailed her hands frustratedly by her sides. “I only said that because you got weird when she called us a power couple.”

“I didn’t get weird,” he argued.

“You froze!”

“Because I knew you were about to get weird. You always do whenever anybody brings up our relationship.”

“Well, it’s complicated! And no one’s business.”

Oliver softened, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I know that. And I’m not interested in Miss Jane, just so you’re aware. I’m already very much in love with the beautiful, tech goddess who’s having my baby.”

“Oliver…”

He could be so sweet sometimes. It always made her want to forgive all the stupid things he’d done.

They’d discussed it, the mistakes he’d made—mistakes they’d both made—and she knew he hadn’t acted maliciously when he’d kept his son a secret from her. He’d explained, to the best of his ability, that he’d been scared. Scared of messing things up, scared he wouldn’t be a good father, that he didn’t deserve to be. Oliver believing he didn’t deserve good things wasn’t exactly news to Felicity, but it did go to show her that she’d been deluding herself these past months. It was just that he was so perfect most of the time and then he… wasn’t. It scared her for awhile, until she’d realized she may have been projecting some of her abandonment issues into him. Oliver wasn’t her father, and even though keeping secrets from her wasn’t ideal he only did it because he—foolishly—thought it was the right thing to do. They’d had a long talk about that and come to an agreement about what it all meant for their relationship.

It had gone better than she’d hoped it would.

Still, she wasn’t sure it was time to change their relationship status from it’s complicated to... something else. Not with this baby getting ready to pop out of her and her feeling over emotional all the time and exhausted. So, so exhausted. But soon. After the baby was—

A gush of water rushed down her legs, soaking her leggings.

“—we’re going to have to come to a decision about this sometime,” Oliver was saying as she glanced up at him in panic.

“Oliver.”

“I know, I know. I’m not rushing you—“

“Oliver!”

Finally, he looked at her, his eyes going wide as he noticed her look of pure panic. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I think my water just broke.”

###

It took Oliver maybe five minutes to drive her from their Lamaze class to the hospital. It took almost an hour after that before she was comfortably settled in a private room.

Well, maybe not comfortably…

“Just breathe, baby,” Oliver muttered from beside her bed.

As if it were that easy.

She could kill him. She really could.

“We are never having sex again!” she roared through a contraction.

The nurse, a grey haired woman, snorted from where she was writing something on Felicity’s chart. “Don’t worry. They all say that.” She glanced up and gave Felicity a warm smile. “Dr. Cochran is just cleaning up. She’ll be in in a few minutes to check on you.”

Felicity took a deep breath, trying to relax as the contraction passed. The nurse left, leaving her with a guilty looking Oliver.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, and suddenly she felt awful.

“Yeah. It just sucks, that’s all. I’m sorry.”

Oliver reached out, brushing her sweaty hair off her forehead. “I’m sorry it hurts. I’d do anything to take the pain away. Are you sure you don’t want the drugs—“

“No.” She shook her head. “I can do it without them.”

He brushed a hand over her hair again, smiling sweetly. “I know you can. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Tears caught in her eyelashes and she sniffled. “I love you.”

It was the first time she’d said that in… awhile. She watched the words hit him like a ton of bricks before he shot her a watery smile.

“I love you, too.”

He leaned in to chastely brush his lips against hers, but she pulled him in, needing more than just a fleeting kiss. She needed all of him. Needed to know he was hers and that he always would be. He responded eagerly, as if he needed her just as much.

They only pulled away when another contraction hit her. He coached her through it, just like they’d learned in Lamaze class. He held her hand and she squeezed his back so tightly that he, the Green Arrow himself, actually winced at her vice-like grip.

“Oliver?” she panted as soon as the contraction ended. “Marry me?”

His mouth fell open and he gaped at her for a long moment, before a startled laugh ripped from his throat. “Yes,” he wheezed, grinning down at her. “Whenever you want.”

“How ‘bout right now?”

“Now… what?”

"Call me sentimental,” she said with a shrug, “but I just really want to be married to you before this baby is born."

“Felicity…”

And she knew what he was thinking. That she was letting her emotions get the best of her. That the pain was making her crazy. And maybe it was. But if she knew anything at all it was that she wanted to be married to this man for the rest of her life.

"This baby… It won't fix us. I know that. So we'll just have to do it ourselves. I mean, we already have been. And I know we'll have more problems, we'll fight, but… You're the best friend I've ever had, Oliver, and the love of my life and if I'm going to spend the rest of that life with anyone it’s going to be you. It's the only thing that makes sense. So will you marry me?"

“Yes.”

No doubt. No hesitation. Just a simple yes and a blinding smile that she was sure she’d remember for the rest of her life.

He leaned down to kiss her again, but before she could get lost in the feeling of his lips against hers, a familiar voice greeted them.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I heard you two were about to have a baby.”

Felicity broke away from Oliver to see her OBGYN standing in the doorway with a smile on her face. Dr. Cochran was a lovely woman, only a few years older than her, but she had an incredibly calming effect on Felicity whenever they spoke. It was one of the reasons she’d gone with the young doctor in the first place.

Dr. Cochran quickly examined Felicity, making sure everything looked good, and announcing that it wouldn’t be much longer. That was both a relief—because her mother had never let an opportunity pass to remind her of how she’d been in labor for thirteen hours and in contrast an hour and a half labor seemed like a gift—and terrifying. Was she ready for this baby? Was she ready to be someone’s mother? And she’d just asked Oliver to marry her. They wouldn’t have enough time now…

“Does this place have, like, a rabbi or a priest or something?”

Dr. Cochran paused, clearly not expecting the question. “The hospital has a chaplain, yes.”

“Good, good. Can you get them up here, please?”

The doctor glanced between her and Oliver, nodding her head. “Of course.”

“Felicity?” Oliver asked as soon as they were alone again.

“Marry me,” she said again, causing Oliver to laugh, though it was more amused than startled this time.

“I think I already answered that question,” he teased.

“Is this crazy?” She was pretty sure it was nuts, but…

“Yes. But I’m in if you are.”

And that was all the answer she needed.

###

The chaplain, it turned out, was with another patient, and wasn’t able to get to them for another twenty minutes.

Twenty minutes of pure torture as her contractions came closer and closer together. Dr. Cochran had come back into the room wearing gloves and a face mask, like she was fully prepared to deliver the baby right then, but Felicity was holding out.

“Felicity,” the doctor said, “you need to start pushing.”

“No! Not yet. I’m not ready yet.”

Oliver held her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. “Honey...”

“Felicity, this baby doesn’t care if you’re ready. It wants out.”

Just then there was a knock at the door and Felicity turned to see a young man with curly brown hair standing in the doorway. He wore a button down shirt and slacks, a white collar around his neck like you see on priests in movies.

“Someone called for a chaplain?” he asked, taking in the scene before him with wide eyes.

“Oh, thank god.” She sighed in relief. “Come in.”

Following her lead, Oliver turned to the priest. "Will you marry me and my... my fiancé? She's pregnant."

“I noticed that,” the man said, then shook his head. “Do you have a license? It won’t be legal if you don’t—“

“Doesn’t matter!” Felicity said through gritted teeth as she tried to breathe through another contraction.

“We’ll take care of that later,” Oliver assured him.

“Alright, guess we should make it quick then.” He started to say a prayer Felicity had never heard before, but was quickly interrupted by Dr. Cochran.

“Sorry, Father, but you’re going to have to be a little quicker than that.”

The chaplain looked flustered for a moment, but quickly regained his composure, turning toward Oliver. “Do you…?”

“Oliver!” Felicity supplied.

“Do you, Oliver, take…?”

Felicity was too busy trying to control her breathing to respond, so Oliver replied with a soft, “Felicity.”

“Do you take Felicity as your lawful wife to have and to hold, from this day forward, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

“I do.”

Tears streamed down Felicity’s face and only some of them were from the pain of childbirth.

“Felicity?” the chaplain started, cautiously. “Do you take Oliver as your—“

Another contraction hit her so hard that she had to start pushing. And it hurt. Dear god, it hurt. But Dr. Cochran was there, along with a few nurses, quietly and calmly cheering her on.

“Felicity,” Oliver breathed in amazement, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yes! Yes!” She gritted out. “I do!”

“Come on, Felicity!” Dr. Cochran encouraged. “Another big push.”

She could barely concentrate enough to hear the chaplain pronounce them husband and wife, but she felt Oliver bury his face in her hair. She heard him whispering, “I love you,” over and over again.

She heard their baby cry as she finally came into the world.

[bowieandqueen11]

He Knew Well Enough / Reddie Imagine

Request: Can I request a fic where after defeating Pennywise, Eddie is taken to the hospital and Richie confesses his love for Eddie at his bedside? Holding his hand and just trying to comfort him as much as he can since he’s badly injured but everything ends up being ok! 

@howelloutforharambe thank you so much this is the fix it idea I need XD

Eddie’s never felt so cold.

The doctor had the posture of a soldier. Every action she took was precise and purposeful. She smiled in the cold and distant way professionals do. Eddie needed a genuine face, preferably a smile, but if not he’d really rather they didn't fake it. He wanted his aspirator, he wanted to get out of here. Behind the gun-metal spectacles her eyes were as grey as the washed-out bed sheets and the lines around her mouth gave no indication that she ever lost herself in laughter. All fake smiles.

 It reminded him of his mother.

He tried to fall asleep, lying there in the empty cream room. He stared up at the swirling ceiling, feeling uncomfortable as hell despite the fact he had spent most of his life staring up at these very ceilings. The green blanket covering his midriff felt extra coarse against his skin today, his body felt flushed and hot. He missed his friends. He thought he could see them, running past the door sometimes, waving at him as he lies stuck here. There goes Big Bill. He wonders how he managed to get Silver into the hospital, next goes Stan, the bandages still wrapped around his head, the scars that would never truly heal. And for a moment, despite being so separate from them, from his childhood, from the best years of his life, he didn’t feel so bad. Because here comes Richie. Smiling, he lies back against his pillow. He can die happy now.

Little did he know, that it really was Richie Tozier, fumbling down the slate grey floors, and the dove walls, his hand clasping his stomach . Above the ceiling is made from those polystyrene squares laid on a grid-like frame. The light is too bright for his eyes after the darkening gloom outside, he finds it abrasive, enough perhaps to bring on one of his migraines.

Eddie seems to be far, far away when he opens the door, his eyes barely fluttering to him as Richie saunters in, his eyes widening at the set of the boy he had loved since he was thirteen years old. He clasps his hands open and shut into fists that draw blood from his palm, so unsure as to what to say or do after what happened.

‘You know... I had a panic attack during the way in. Honestly, I thought I’d be the one that died before I reached you.’

Eddie lifts his head a little, a stupid smile gracing his face to see Richie, believing him to be an angel ready to take him away to where his mother now is.

‘I’m ready to go.’

‘Jesus shit Eddie, I’ll take you home in a few weeks. But we still have that massive hole in your stomach to sort out.’

As if on cue, the pain throbs in Eddie’s guts; it's deep and warm, but not in a nice way. It feels like someone has their hand in there and are squeezing his organs either gently or as hard as they can. When it wanes he can move, when it returns he can only hold still and breathe, breathe slow and deep until it has passed, as if nails were rustling around in there. He barely feels Richie moves towards him, collapsing down onto the old wooden chair by the side of his bed. He believes Richie to be tenderly placing one of his thick hands onto his forearm, apologising profusely as he groans. He believes him to be softly stroking against his skin, his thumb doing figure eights over his goosebumps in order to try and calm him down. And the pain fades with each swirl, as Eddie remembers the reason he was here in the first place, and it makes everything worth it. 

If he had to die to save Richie Tozier’s life, he would. After all, he was the boy who killed monsters.

He gives a dopey grin as a tear begins to trickle down Richie’s face, one he quickly rubs away with his thumb and a small sob, nearly hitting himself in the face as his knuckles bounce against his glasses.

‘Hey’, Eddie starts, his raven black hair falling slowly over his forehead, ‘you need to change those glasses, man, it’s been like thirty fucking years.’

Richie laughs quietly through the sobs, the sound dying out as Eddie continues, ‘hey, I’ll buy you some when I get out. I’ve also missed the ice cream around here. But I want you to go with me. I’ve always only wanted to go with you. Only you.’

Richie held in his breathe, not daring to move or even look at him as his pinkie bumped against his, before his trembling fingers finally find the courage to slowly slide over his, enveloping them completely. When he realises that he’s not tugging away from him in disgust, he slowly interconnects his fingers with his completely. He grasped onto Eddie’s hand, an unspoken promise to another, that in this moment, they don’t have to face the world alone.

‘For someone who’s so good with talking’, he starts as Eddie stares into his eyes, ‘I’m pretty bad at it. Whenever I try to express the emotions whirling in my soul, my throat tightens blocking me from saying anything. They always have, and it’s killed me to let you slip out of my grasp again and again and again. But Eddie, I’m a coward, I am. I can carve as much into that stupid kissing bridge as I want, but it didn’t make a difference. I should have told you that day in the hammock when you kicked me in the face, or that day when I saved you from Pennywise, but as you well enough know, my timing is always shit.’

‘Rich, what are you trying to say?’

‘Shit, Eddie, I’ve always been in love with you.’

‘Yeah... I knew well enough, Richie. Jesus, you weren’t exactly subtle. I didn’t realise I wasn’t so obvious as well.’

‘Fuck, Eddie’, Richie’s voice wobbles as he gives a wavering smile, the tears finally pouring down his cheeks, allowing all the fear and anger from the last few days to roll down his cheeks like hot rain, ‘you could have died before I told you this.’

‘Better me than you, eh?’

He chuckles slightly as he lowers his head down towards Eddie’s neck, his hair tickling his chin as a slow huff of his breath breaks Eddie’s skin out in a set of shivering goosebumps. He brushes his fingertips gently down the curve of Eddie’s flushed cheek, silence enveloping the two of them in a comfortable affinity as Richie thanks everything he can think of for letting Eddie survive.

His thumb traces lazily over Eddie’s knuckles as his breathing begins to even out again, the stray locks of his hair falling over his eyes as he gently places an arm over his chest, the look of unreserved love and awe in Eddie’s wide, swirling eyes enough to nearly send him into another panic attack. 

‘Well, I have the rest of my life to make this all up to you.’

[rowanthestrange]

Doctor Who Meta: Cyberium AI Meta Masterpost

@grassangel​ said: A thought for you because of your meta: the Cyberium as the fluid in the opening credits.

It definitely does have a resemblance, doesn’t it. And that fits in with the Chibs style of ‘if you think it’s odd/wrong it probably serves a bigger purpose’.

The Cyberium AI is weird as hell. It’s clearly really important, not just as a plot device, but as itself. It’s got characterisation. It’s got a mirror important enough to be in the first episode - Tzim-Sha’s Gathering Coil, the first thing this Doctor ever faces.

And it mirrors the Doctor and Timeless Child’s ‘Power’. I mean it really mirrors them. To the point where, like with the Lone Cyberman and Rassilon, I’m not sure if it’s mirroring the character ridiculously heavily, or if it just straight up is the character. Just like working out Clara was going to be the Doctor with a TARDIS - I knew the result but I didn’t know what form it would take, literally the character or not, until the end. Cus that’s Doctor Who and its shapeshifting for you.

You know how my preferred method is to just point out all the metas as I see them, so you can draw your own conclusions if they’re different to mine, but I will actually put my thoughts as to what this all means at the end.

So click below for every bit of Cyberium AI meta from not just Series 12, not even just Series 11...but all the way back to Season 25)

(Under a cut because there was so much more than I thought there was)

In episode order then:

The Woman Who Fell To Earth

(The Gathering Coil as double-layer, mirroring the Cyberium AI’s role itself; but also therefore as its Doctor character mirror, and Timeless Child ‘Power’ mirror)

-See the title of the episode. The title with at least three references now.

-It crashes into a train when we meet it. A few moments before the Doctor does.

-“What are you? Okay, you don't like questions. More the private type, I get that.”

-Its data is absorbed into the Rassilon-mirror Tzim-Sha.

-In doing so also implants into him - and I quote the Doctor - “Micro-implants which code to your DNA. On detonation, they disrupt the foundation of your genetic code, melting your DNA.” Sound familiar?

-It’s being used - against the laws of the user’s species - in order to attain leadership. (Like Rassilon/Tecteun)

-Looks like one creature but is actually a huge number in the appearance of one. (The Doctor).

-The Gathering Coil might look like an Eldritch horror, but it never actually kills anyone on purpose. When it first shows up, the woman driving the train dies from shock, (“Shock” get it? Like...) Grace dies in an attempt to stop it by electrocuting it. The most damage it itself deliberately does, is short-circuit a crane.

----

The Haunting Of Villa Diodatti:

(Heavily as Timeless Child ‘Power’ mirror(?))

-The Lone Cyberman confirms the Cyberium AI to be both a lifeform and ‘weapon of some kind’. Like the Ux.

-We meet it already inside Doctor-mirror Percy Shelley - suicidal, social activist, and a great believer in the importance of society having Hope even if not so good at it himself. He is not trying to use its powers, but as Guardian of them doesn’t want others to take and abuse them. The word ‘Guard’ is also used by Mary in regards to the child. (And we could leave this episode and say how Irish Metaphor Doctor was a ‘Garda’ but you get the point).

-It hides in a house that appears to warp and change and shield and use a perception filter - theorised to be the Cyberium AI warping the perceptions of people in the building, even though none of them are remotely Cyber in any way. Shelley says directly only some of the changing is his doing. On a practical level, it must have strong telepathic abilities - like the Doctor. On a meta level, it hides itself in a place that mirrors a TARDIS.

-The Doctor can’t find it at first because it’s “hidden away, cloaked, too big to register.” Like the Timeless Child memories.

-The Doctor seemingly genuinely didn’t know what it was a minute ago, when she was asking Ashad what it was. But now suddenly she does know: “Cyber technology. The knowledge of the whole cyber race and AI from the future, containing the knowledge and future history of all Cybermen”. Almost as if she’s remembered.

-This next bit’s important and connected so we’ll just do the whole lot and break it up afterwards:

Percy: “They scorched and split the sky. Built the army of all armies. Left behind only pain, rage, fear and death.” Mary: “How is he seeing all this?” The Doctor: “The Cyberium is burning through his mind. It'll destroy him if it stays in him much longer. An epic battle. The Cyberium at the heart of it, controlling data, strategy, decision-making. Clever! Very clever. Someone took it from the Cybermen, sent it back through time here in an attempt to change the future.” *The Lone Cyberman tries to break in* The Doctor: “In an attempt to protect you from that.”

-Like Donna with the Doctor’s memories, this is burning Percy up. -An epic Battle, like with the Ux - a great battle referenced and not explained. The Cyberium AI instead of the Ux at the heart of it, used to fight it. (If anyone’s still assuming the Timeless Child(ren) thing was simply about regeneration power, there should be more focus on the Division and the Child as weapon). -The Doctor again coming in with extra information. -Possible Future Meta: Someone attempted to change the future by taking the source of power from the Rassilon (see the mirror).

-Thirteen tells the Doctor-mirror to just let the Rassilon-mirror have the power. (Reminds me of how the Timeless Child ‘would not yield any secrets’). But the Cyberium AI has been sending Shelley (Doctor-mirror) symbols and numbers. So Possible Future Meta: It wasn’t just the regeneration power Rassilon got from the Timeless Child, it was also information. (Of course - the Doctor, especially this one meant to mirror all this, is the Builder And Destroyer, after all)

-We confirm the Cyberium AI’s own sentience, separate from its host, (and its reluctance to leave). It changes the mental map of the house specifically to avoid the Lone Cyberman.

-The Lone Cyberman believes the host must be killed in order to get the power out. Mary Shelley immediately talks to the Lone Cyberman about fatherhood, and how he doesn’t want to do this. (Rassilon/Tecteun)

-The Doctor convinces the Cyberium AI to leave by showing it Percy’s future. (The mercury-like substance exits Percy quite like the poison with Ten. Given the amount of Ten-era-mirroring, this one’s cute).  (Possible Future Meta: The Doctor meeting Timeless Child self, like with Martin!Doctor).

-The Cyberium AI goes to the Doctor, who calls herself its “true Guardian”. Says it feels “Very at home”. Going with how she seemed to remember what it was without ever being told earlier...

-The Doctor, when her friends and the planet is at risk, decides to give it over the the Lone Cyberman, and the Cyberium works with her in a way it refused to with Shelley, meaning she didn’t need to die, even though she says it had already started fusing.

-Next after the Doctor-mirror/Doctor, the power enters the Rassilon-mirror.

-(Yaz restarts the Doctor-mirror’s heart. That’s not important to this meta, but it sure is important to other ones).

-We talk about ghosts just as we enter the Ghost Monument.

----

Ascension Of The Cybermen:

(Both as Doctor mirror and Timeless Child Power mirror)

-Cyberium!Ashad says “The Cyberium does know you. Both you and humanity will be destroyed, and I shall bring the Cyber race to its greatest ever glory.” - the Cyberium AI has already seen the Doctor’s death before. Or it’s lying.

-The Doctor’s blatantly obvious talking-to-herself therapy speech is to Cyberium!Ashad.

“The Cyberium has given me understanding. It has distilled my purpose. I am the perfect vessel.” - A container, a ship for the Cyberium AI.

“Everything is in me for the ascension of the Cybermen, and beyond. ... All your deaths. The death of everything is within me.” - First, mirrors the ‘life’ within the Timeless Child. Second, considering before this was previously an AI trying to avoid conflict and entering Ashad, the fact that Ashad and his death particle gets convinced to go to the Master and Gallifrey, makes me wonder how much the Cyberium AI was forced to go along because that’s its nature and it has to follow instructions, or whether it was planning and pulling the strings. Or both - TARDIS-style.

----

The Timeless Children:

(Heavily as Doctor mirror, minorly Timeless Child Power mirror)

-“Oh. Oop. Excuse me. Check my notifications. Oh, goodie! The Cybermen are here, at the Boundary. Better extend the hand of friendship. Breaker 1-2 calling all Cybes.” So the Master knew that the Cybermen would come. How? They haven’t interacted from our perspective at all.

-The Master says to Cyberium!Ashad “I want you to think of me as your new best friend.”

-Master to the Doctor: “Don't heckle, dear. I can always decide to cut you short.” -Master to Cyberium!Ashad: “Oh, shoot. I should've said, somebody needs to cut you down to size, then zapped you. I was just trigger-happy. I'll use it next time.” (Plus, a ‘next time’ - we haven’t seen the last of him).

-The Cyberium AI is revealed to have been the one to create the Death Particle. Which again makes me question who’s pulling whose strings. As the Master points out Ashad is more organic than most, and Ashad simply says that he’ll mechanise when the process is over - ignoring the point that this didn’t work before. And Ashad seems to think it will wipe out everything, ignoring the reality that its coverage is only a single planet.

-The Master is clearly talking to the Cyberium more than Ashad at points.

Ashad: “The Cyberium will process and dictate the strategy.” The Master: “The Cyberium. I've heard a lot about that over the millennia. The heart of all your power. The centre of all Cyber knowledge.” -Sounds very like the other Timeless Child(ren) mirror - the Ux.

-The Master actively flirts with it. “Oh, come on, Cyberium, show us some leg. What do you actually look like, hmm?” And after shrinking Ashad without so much as a close-up, like he’s been nothing to the plot, “Well, aren't you pretty? And fast. You made your exit very swiftly there. Worried, were you?”

-The Master hoped the Death Particle would activate and laments to the Cyberium AI that his “nice little gamble” didn’t pay off - as in it didn’t kill him. (Assuming Timeless Children plural, that may be the only thing that would work, and that he is telling this to the Cyberium AI again could fit nicely with the narrative idea that it knows what it’s doing).

-“Oh, sorry, were you close? Candidly, I think you can do better.” ... “Wow, that was quick. Wa-ha-ha! Whoa! Woohoo! At least buy me... dinner!” - (And considering we all had a giggle at the clearly intentionally funny ‘a piece of you is in me’ line that’s going to happen either in about a minute, or in the world of the episode and making adjustments for simultaneous storytelling, right now...)

-“I ransacked the Matrix of the Time Lords, distilled all the knowledge, all the experiences, all the discoveries, into these brains up here. All the Cyber knowledge, all the Time Lord knowledge. Put it together, what do you get? Absolute supremacy in the universe. Choose me.” - (The Master pointing out we’ve now got two sets of incredible knowledge. Rule of three has me wondering about the Timeless Child’s ‘Knowledge’.)

-After the power was originally in the Doctor-mirror/Doctor, it then went to the Rassilon-mirror(?) and then to the Master. If you’re a fan of Timeless Children Plural theory.

-The Master: “No, Doctor. As of now, I wish my enemies a long and healthy life, so they may witness my many triumphs, because they will be legion.” - (So, in case you’re not familiar with the Legion thing, two points: A Legion was a division in the Roman army of about 3000-6000 men. We will be coming back to Rome - oh God will we - but just slot that information away for later. Point two - For another use of Legion, we need to head to the Bible, Mark 5:1-9. ‘Who cares, Rowan?’ Well, this is the story in which there is a man living among tombs, who no-one can bind, not even with chains. He cries out and attacks himself, and on seeing Jesus in the distance rushes over and kneels before him, screaming that he’d put him under oath not to torment him. Jesus doesn’t talk to him, but to what is possessing him, ordering it to come out, and asking its name. And it, not the man replies: “I am Legion, for we are many.” (Fun fact, we eventually get rid of the demons by exorcising them into animals who then run off...a...cliff. *sighs* Ok.)

The Doctor: “You're looking peaky.” The Master: “Oh, yeah. The Cyberium lives in me now, Doctor. Yeah. Yes. See, I've been looking forward to seeing your face about that. I can feel it flowing around in me. The information, the strategy, the... the... the consciousness. It's a beautiful thing. And look at us. I have broken you and created a new race. And now? Now I shall conquer... everything. Oh.”

-“See, I've been looking forward to seeing your face about that.” - This is a quiet point that exemplifies a major one. The Master’s story is different to ours. He knows things that we do not. The Doctor in theory (though I doubt in practice) had never come across the Cyberium AI before, she hasn’t mentioned its name or anything about it to the Master. In theory (again press x) the Lone Cyberman carrying the Cyberium AI just turned up when the Master dragged the Doctor through to Gallifrey as pure happenstance, he should know nothing about that incident with the AI and Shelley (and yet he quotes him). Why has he been looking forward to seeing her face in regards to that? What does he know about it that he expects her to remember? Just like with the Timeless Child infodump, we are fools if we take all this at face value, because the Master planned for all of this. And it seems like the Cyberium AI _itself_ is planning too.

Ko Sharmus: “You didn't start this. I did. I was part of a resistance unit that sent the Cyberium back through time and space. Though obviously we didn't send it back far enough. So this is my penance. Mine to finish. My journey ends here. But the universe still needs you, so I suggest you run.” (Ko Sharmus is treated way too important. We’ve got to see him again.)

----

Done? Done.

Well no, no actually we’re not. Because there is one final episode.

But we have to go back, just a little bit, to the Seventh Doctor. Stick with me. I promise you’ll be glad you did.

Silver Nemesis:

-A story revolving around a thing called Validium.

-To quote the TARDIS Wiki: “It was living metal that could think for itself and was capable of speech as well. When destroyed, it could reform itself.”

The Doctor: “Validium was created as the ultimate defence for Gallifrey, back in early times.” Ace: “Created by Omega?” The Doctor: “Yes.” Ace: “And?” The Doctor: “Rassilon.” Ace: “And?” The Doctor: “And none of it should have left Gallifrey. But, as always with these things, some of it did.”

-Catch that hint of the Cartmel Masterplan where it’s clearly meant to lead you to ‘And? The Other One’. It’s ok, you’re not reading too far into it, I promise.

-“It should never have left Gallifrey, but some of it did. A piece of validium fell to Earth and was found by the Lady Peinforte.” Can you guess what she did with it? Why, she moulded it into a statue of herself.

-A silver lady statue.

-(You remember how we just seemed to abandon Barton? Who is somewhat not human? Was involved with creatures from another dimension? And that statue? Seemed set-up for a cyber plan? Saw nothing wrong with a bit of familial murder? Ooh hoo. Welp.)

-Nazis are involved. Ill-timed notifications. The Doctor forgetting. A cellar. (A fez). A meteorite containing the validium crashes by a barn. On November the 23rd. Happy Birthday. We blow things up. A lot of things.

-The villains of the piece? Besides the nazis and the Time(travelling) Lady? Well it could only be the Cybermen. A bit of the Validium is held by each of them

-The Cybermen take their bit of the Validium to the tomb of the Lady, with an inscription “Death Is But A Door”. The Lady is not buried there, and it doubles as a pun, with a hidden door.

-One of the lead nazis betrays his fellow to be turned into a Cyberman. “Supermen are all very well, but the giants are the master race.”

-The Seventh Doctor is mirrored with the Lady, who describes herself as evil. They even have mirrored scenes with their equivalent companions.

-The Lady: “All power, all power past, present and future, shall be mine. Why, I shall be mistress of all of that is, all that shall be, all that ever was. Yes, all! All!” - Oh, doesn’t she sound familiar now...

-Point Of Interest: Like many of the concepts Chibs has been playing with from Classic Who - the Morbius Doctors, almost certainly the Valeyard - this was apparently a fairly controversial episode among the old guard. Why? Because well...

The Validium: “I am beautiful, am I not?” Ace: “Yes. You're very beautiful.” The Validium: “It is only my present form. I have had others which would horrify you. I shall have those again. You are surprised I speak?” Ace: “I know you're living metal.” The Validium: “I am whatever I am made to be. This time Lady Peinforte called me Nemesis, so I am retribution.”

-I mean this is all cute but it doesn’t explain why it’s here and-

The Validium: “And I'm to destroy the entire Cyberfleet?” The Doctor: “Forever.” The Validium: “And then?” The Doctor: “Reform.” The Validium: “You might need me in the future, then?” The Doctor: “I hope not.” The Validium: “That is what you said before.” The Doctor: “Enough.” The Validium: “And after this, will I have my freedom?” The Doctor: “Not yet.” The Validium: “When?” The Doctor: “I told you when.” The Doctor: “Things are still imperfect.”

-Oh well that’s...Hmm.

Lady Peinforte: “You are nothing. Only the Doctor matters, and he is but a pawn in the game of my making.” ... Ace: “The Doctor's not just going to give you the bow. Tell her, Doctor. Tell her.” Lady Peinforte: “Doctor who? Have you never wondered where he came from, who he is?” Ace: “Nobody knows who the Doctor is.” Lady Peinforte: “Except me.” Ace: “How?” Lady Peinforte: “The statue told me.” Ace: “All right, so what does it matter? He's a Time Lord, I know that.” Lady Peinforte: “Well, Doctor?” The Doctor: “If I give you the bow,” Lady Peinforte: “Your power becomes mine, but your secrets remain your own.” ... Lady Peinforte: “I shall tell them of Gallifrey, tell them of the old time, the time of chaos.” ... The Doctor: “You had the right game, but the wrong pawn. Check.”

-What used to be the Cartmell Master plan is now the Timeless Child Master...plan- Is this why it’s involving the Master? For a pun? Whatever, either way the Seventh Doctor is now a treasure trove of useful ideas - I did wonder why Chibs chose Ace in particular as the companion who should get a ‘Thirteen meeting them again’ book - trying to lure people in for a second look, clearly.

-So what happens in the story? In the Timeless Child, the Master ends up absorbing the Cyberium. In Silver Nemesis, the Validium absorbs our Lady Mistress Of All. How neat.

-The Doctor ‘wins’ by giving the Validium the Cyberleader’s instructions, confirming it understood them, and then the Cybermen let it fly off to their fleet. Which then blows up. Because it chose to disobey them. (As he knew it would).

-The Validium is left floating in space, until the Doctor calls on it again. I’m not saying this relates to opening titles full of goop, but I’m not saying it doesn’t either.

So. That’s a lot. While I would usually doubt the Validium would literally be the Cyberium, and that it would be for fans to join together as they wished or not... Honestly, given the use of lore in Chibs Who, I don’t actually feel certain of that anymore.

But either way, there’s your meta masterpost, you can commence your theorising now.

****

I know no-one comes to these things for my stupid conclusions, but in case you did, here’s a couple of my very disparate fever-brained thoughts, that I’m too ill to put together more...smartly, and might have to come back to if you’re ever going to actually see this post:

-The Doctor/The Other/The Timeless Child had a hand in the weaponisation of the Cyberium AI (forced/cajoled/whatever).

-The Time Lord empire, in at least one version of reality, is inextricably linked to the Cybermen empire, with the Cybermen showing similar levels of technology to Time Lords (a cyber carrier ‘more advanced’ than very far future humans have ever seen - “Coming out of vortex now”, implies it has time vortex travel. And “That’s my home planet - that's Gallifrey”. Immediately the image cuts to Cyberman, then straight back.)

-The Timeless Child was chosen as a vessel to save some form of living knowledge, rather than just being a mystical alien.

-((My nuttiest guess that is only 30% meta and 70% gut feel is it’s a TARDIS-kind, probably our own, which stayed with them because they carried her, and now she carries them. That concept, the little links we’re seeing with TARDISes and their sentience, the implied planetary genocide of all but a saved pair, cyberised humans and cyberised Time Lords - a TARDIS is a cyberised something, the question of living technology, the gloop of the vortex, the Ghost Monument, the Doctor’s agonised loss of her for her first episode that she then only finds at the end of the second on a dead planet ruined by space-fascists...))

-Are those two the same story? You could go in either direction. The stories are all about cycles and loops, so a strong case for mirroring, but at the same time we have a Lone Cyberman who can’t be converted properly and no-one knows why, which makes me think that is still Rassilon with either the ghost of a memory of an old plan, or - thanks to time travel - the old plan itself. That perhaps the Timeless Child’s Power would end up somewhat fused with the Doctor when they turned it into the weaponised Cyberium “AI”, explains why we see it in meta go from benign to weapon creator.

-The Cyberium AI created the Death Particle which would destroy all life and stop the Cyber-Time Lords from taking over. This feels like the exact thing the Doctor was trying to stop with the Time Lords in The End Of Time, and Day Of The Doctor, as their absolute last-ditch plan.

-Certainly the Battle that the Alliance are gearing up for, I would assume is the same battle that we keep seeing in mirrors, and is directly related to Gallifrey. It keeps coming up linked together, like with Ko Sharmus, and we first find out about the Alliance from the inside of a stolen Battle TARDIS.

-So perhaps that’s a point that history is hinging on, and someone - read: the Master - has chosen to interfere. Things all seemed to go wrong after he discovered the Timeless Child information - impossible Time Lords and TARDISes appearing, an Alliance, a Cyber Empire etc. Maybe originally the Doctor/Timeless Child (title, not necessarily youth) was used to control the Cyberium AI and win the battle. But the Master took them away from Rassilon so that couldn’t happen, so everything’s a catastrofuck of paradoxes.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

We got a long time to think about it at least.

[otome0heart]

[Fanfic] MLQC - Precious Bonds (Victor)

Finally, I finished writing my first MLQC story ^^ I’ve been wanting to do it for a long time, but I had a very “pretty“ writer’s block added to some lack of motivation and the break I took from otome games. It’s taken me a month to write it, but I feel really accomplished. I really hope you like it ^^

Title: Precious Bonds

Genre: Angsty Fluff (I think)

Words: 3559

Notes: I’m still in ch. 10, and it’s a future fic so there might be something inaccurate. I write in 3rd person but I don’t use my OC, I hope that doesn’t bother you when reading ^^ Also, English isn’t my mother tongue so if you spot any mistakes, please, tell me and I’ll correct them.

.

PRECIOUS BONDS

As he took the key of his house from his pocket, Victor hesitated to introduce it in the lock for a moment, his lips pressing in a thin line. For a moment, he wondered what awaited him once he crossed the household. Things had not been fine when he had left and for the first time in life, he was unsure of the outcome. However, not being a man who dwelled into that type of sentiment, he dismissed the thought with a blink and a tired sigh and, unlocking the door, he opened it.

Darkness and silence greeted him, as he had expected. Night had just fallen and his wife was probably working at her company or supervising the filming of a project personally. However, as he turned to close and leave the key in its usual place, his heart missed a beat upon seeing her set hanging from its hook, the big round keychain in the shape of a dog returning his gaze with happy eyes. She had bought him a cat which hung next to hers and that he had refused to attach to his keys. In no way was he going to be seen in the office with such… thing. He furrowed his brows and scanned the hall once again, not finding any trace of her presence in the house. He called her name, but there was no answer. He breathed deeply, clenching his jaw for a moment. Even after thirteen days, she was still probably upset.

How childish.

Just before leaving for a business trip in Europe, he and his wife had had an argument he could not remember how it had started anymore, but the hurtful words that they had thrown at each other still lingered in the air and in his mind. Yet, up to that moment, none of them had taken the first step to mend things. In the beginning, he had decided to let things cool before calling her, trusting Goldman with the mission of letting her know they had arrived at their destination safely. However, he had got very busy with meetings and negotiations immediately after, and the different time zones made communication difficult.

Goldman had kept him informed of her movements, and that had served to placate his conscience, as in a way, he had been looking out for her; but his assistant’s latest news had made him finish matters a day earlier and rush back home. She had visited a clinic and had some tests run after not feeling well at work. No matter how stupid or heated their fight had been, if she was sick, he wanted to be by her side and take care of her.

He took off his coat and scarf and hung them in the wardrobe by the entrance and then, he picked up his suitcase and crossed the hall and the wide living room towards the staircase. He needed a shower and some time to think.

As he opened the door of their bedroom, he stilled at the door upon the sight that greeted him. His wife was lying on their bed, dressed in one of her nightgowns and covered up to her waist, her eyes closed and her breath even. His heart immediately filled with anxiety seeing her so apparently fragile, devoided of all the energy that characterised her. However, a small spark of tenderness mixed with his worry. She was facing his side of the bed, her cheek on the edge of his pillow and her arms stretched as if she was searching for him in her sleep.

He took off his jacket and his tie, leaving them on the chair by her vanity, and undid the first buttons of his shirt, never taking his eyes off the scene in front of him. Delicately, he sat on the bed, absorbing every little detail he could in the light of the lamp on his bedside table. A knot formed in his throat as his eyes wandered over the dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin and the signs of weight loss in her sharper jaw and cheeks. He sighed as he lifted a hand and with extreme care, caressed her face.

He had missed her so much during those weeks, even more than during longer trips. Not listening to her voice on the phone or seeing her on a video call after arriving at the hotel or while he was getting ready in the morning, going to bed with the image of her upset expression as she sniffled and brushed a tear away carved in his mind and not being able to reach out to hold her to him, made him feel extremely lonely. Only the conviction of doing his work to get the best results had made him stay.

However, if she had received him with a scowl marring her beautiful features, it would have been less painful than seeing her so vulnerable. He did not know what illness she had but if she did not recover in one or two days, he would look for the best doctors wherever they were.

She moved her head slightly, leaning into his touch with a soft sigh escaping her lips, one of her hands moving to rest on his pillow, and guilt gripped his heart and his conscience. How many times she had told him that he had to set his pride aside and express his emotions… In the end, that same pride had hurt the person he wanted to protect the most. He breathed deeply. However, he was determined to make things right again. He still did not know how, as he was not used to asking for forgiveness, but for the moment, he would change into his nightclothes and get into bed with her so she would not be alone in her dreams anymore.

With a last caress, he stood up as carefully as he had sat down with the intention of taking a quick shower.

“Victor…?”

He paused in mid-step as her voice called his name in a mixture of confusion and drowsiness, accompanied by the rustle of fabric. He turned slowly, taking into the sight of his wife sitting in bed leaning on one arm, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

She, then, looked at him as a slight smile graced her lips.

“I thought your trip would last for one more day” she put a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I probably misheard Goldman…” a soft blush dusted her cheeks. “I’d have been ready to receive you.”

Victor stayed silent for a moment. Sudden as it was, his opportunity to do the correct thing had come and he had to choose his words carefully to avoid her misinterpreting them.

“Business finished unexpectedly early” she nodded lightly, and he tried to soften the tone of his voice for his next remark. “I didn’t expect to find you here, are you alright?”

The young woman had ducked her head slightly, as a child expecting a reprimand and harsh words, but then, she regarded him with surprise, hearing the worry in his voice.

“I… wasn’t feeling well, so Anna sent me home.”

He approached the bed again, looking at her before one of his hands rested on her forehead.

“You don’t have a temperature.”

She shook her head, inwardly enjoying the lingering touch of his fingers before they fell back to rest next to his thigh. She shifted to a kneeling position and her features adopted a serious air, and Victor swallowed, seeing the determination in her pupils, although her nervousness was also obvious by the way she fisted her hands on her lap.

“Victor, I… I want…” she clenched her jaw at her stuttering and then, breathed deeply. “I think we need to talk about what happened before your trip.”

Something in the way that she had straightened her shoulders and her formal posture made him cautious. It was true that their fight had been bitter and that they had spent almost two weeks without talking to each other but he did not think that was a reason to approach the matter so ceremoniously. They were husband and wife, after all, and that was the most intimate bond people could have. Besides, it had not been the first argument they had had since they had met, and surely it would not be the last.

“I know.”

“Good” the young woman nodded, relieved upon seeing him willing to speak, knowing how much he disliked talking about his feelings, and so, aware that she would have to be the one to start, she continued. “I’ve been thinking about us while you were away, why we were so unreasonable, why none of us took the step to call the other…”

He crossed his arms on his chest, listening carefully, waiting for her to finish her reasoning.

“And then, in the middle of all that, something happened…” she took an envelope from under his pillow and showed it to him. “I know it’s completely unexpected, and it’s going to be a turning point in our lives, but…”

His heart thundered in his chest, painfully swelling and making breathing difficult, and his mind raced, with wild ideas about her hurting because of their fight and his silence, someone taking advantage and rekindling a flame, divorce… He furrowed his brows, distressed. Sometimes, he wished he could stop his thoughts like he stopped time.

“Victor…? Are you okay?”

Her voice sounded so far… He could see her confused gaze, her mouth slightly open, moving as she talked, but all he heard was his own words refusing to let her walk out of his life.

However, all that only lasted a moment, and suddenly he was conscious of his hand and his mouth rejecting the envelope harshly, letting his pride talk for him again.

Just the opposite of what he wanted.

However, with a strength he did not know she possessed, his wife pushed the envelope to him, pressing it against his chest. Her lips were pressed in a thin line and her eyes, filled with tears, met his.

“Take it.”

He was taken aback by the fierce tone she had used and his frown deepened. However, not wanting to anger her anymore if she was ill, he decided to let her win that battle. Silently, as words formed in his mind to refute her wish to divorce him, he opened the envelope, unfolding the papers inside with an expert flick of his wrist.

However, his eyes widened as they fell on the letterhead which was not from the City Hall, and the small square piece of paper, similar to a picture that was stapled to the report, a granulated mixture of greys except for a black shape in the middle which contained something small with the shape of what looked like a peanut. However, he knew what it was immediately and his heart skipped a beat.

He lifted his head from the report, his sight falling on his wife, who was still sitting on her knees, waiting for his reaction. Her eyes shone with expectation and excitement, and hidden behind them, a spark of insecurity. It was truly an unexpected event, something they had not even talked about but, as she had said, it would change their lives forever. A change he discovered he was more than willing to accept.

The papers fell from his hand as he took her in his arms. Her soft perfume surrounded him as he felt her arms circle his waist tightly.

“I was so worried…” he murmured into her hair, combing her tresses with his fingers.

She lifted her eyes to him, tilting her head.

“Is that why you’re here a day earlier?” the curve of his lips as he pressed them slightly told her the answer, and she frowned delicately. “But how…?”

“Goldman told me you had visited a medical clinic, so I rushed everything and came back as soon as the last meeting finished.”

She stared at him, taking in all the little details which had gone unnoticed to her before, distracted by her excitement. His normally impeccable shirt was rumpled, the slight line between his brows was more pronounced and his eyes were a little bloodshot, dark circles showing under them. All that talked of concern and restless sleep. A small sad smile graced her lips as she lifted one of her hands to smooth the wrinkle in his frown.

“I’m sorry…” she murmured as she slid her fingers along his cheek. “I was anxious about the delayed project and I just vented my frustration on you-”

He shook his head, leaning his forehead to hers.

“I was at fault too. There had been a last-minute problem with one of the most important meetings and I was irked at the incompetence shown by the other party. I should have called you as soon as I got there instead of leaving the matter to Goldman.”

Her smile widened as her pupils sparked with amusement.

“I think we need to keep on working on our communication skills as a couple” his lips turned up in a gesture less exultant than hers but filled with gentleness.

“You’re right…” his mouth twitched in a smirk. “We can’t afford to have two idiots in this marriage. We’d be doomed.

She half-closed her eyes for a second, feigning more annoyance than she truly felt.

“So, you consider yourself an idiot right now?”

“I do” his mauve eyes hardened. “I hate wasting time and I’ve done exactly that not talking to you. You were worried about your work and your health and I left you alone.”

“Stop being so hard on yourself, Victor” her other hand cupped his face, making him look straight at her. “I was also angry, I could have called too… Both of us were stubborn in this, okay?”

He nodded, making a soft sound; then, he breathed, lowering his lids slightly, and she felt his jaw relax under her palms.

“So?” he looked at her again. “Five weeks?”

She nodded happily and it floated in his mind a certain night after the exclusive financial party that they had attended together for the first time, when she had been so excited that she could not sleep and he had kept her company despite his tiredness. Under the covers, he had  listened to her as she rambled cheerfully about the people she had met and the opportunities that those connections would bring to her company, thanking him for taking her there. He had enjoyed seeing her wide smile and sparkling eyes, knowing he was partly the cause of them. As the night passed by, they had talked about ordinary things, shared confidences, soft caresses and kisses, lost in their own world.

And when the sun had started to rise, it had surprised them embracing tightly and drowning in each other’s gaze, their hearts overflowing with feelings as they fell in love once again, their lovemaking slow and filled with tenderness. That morning, both of them had forgotten about everything, just sharing their souls in silence and basking in the warmth of their entwined bodies.  By the lovely shade of colour that covered his wife’s cheeks, she remembered it too. And it seemed that that day, they had also unknowingly created another precious bond between them that would add even more joy to their lives.

“And how are you feeling?”

“Mostly tired, and a bit lightheaded. I had to sit for a while twice this afternoon and Anna decided to send me home despite my protests” she pouted a bit. “I still think that she was just overreacting, I could have done more at work.”

“However, I agree with her” Victor made a mental note to send his wife’s partner a token of thanks the following day. “You were deeply asleep when I arrived.”

“I was bored and there wasn’t anything interesting on television, so I decided to take a little nap.”

“In bed and wearing your nightgown…”

“It was more comfortable” she pursed her lips again and he smiled.

After a pause, he started asking questions again.

“What about morning sickness? You didn’t tell me anything about it when I was here.”

“We were very busy and most days we didn’t have breakfast together… It was hard, especially when we were rushing to meet the deadline for the project so I thought it was the stress. Since then, things have been less frantic and it’s very mild now.”

He made a soft sound of acknowledgement, adopting a pensive look.

“Then, I’ll have to make adjustments to your diet” he had to suppress his laughter when he saw her sulking. “I’ll make you a lunchbox every day, and…” he paused for a moment, thinking. “Tell me all about your food aversions and cravings.”

Her expression changed in an instant, her pupils shining with delight.

“I want pudding!”

His eyes widened in surprise at her outburst but that only lasted a second, knowing her fascination for food, especially the one he made.

“Now?”

She nodded enthusiastically and that time, Victor could not hold his laughter. It was a brief chuckle, but filled with mirth, and her features softened as she finally felt that her husband was his true self again.

“I missed your voice so much…” her hands slid around his neck as her whole face glowed with happiness.

“So did I” his arms tightened around her waist, though careful not to use much strength, and then, a slightly mischievous smirk played on his mouth. “And also, I missed my goodbye kiss.”

She only had time for a giggle before his lips covered hers. It was sweet and chaste, the brush of a gentle spring breeze against her skin, and she felt her heart flutter like a little bird in her chest, warmth making her body awaken, melting the cold that had set somewhere in her soul without her realising.

It was brief too, like the kisses they shared when he went on business trips or she had to travel to different locations for filming. They did not like delaying the moment of their separation neither filling their hearts with a longing that could distract them from their duties.

Their lips barely brushing, they gazed into each other’s eyes lovingly, finally free of regrets. He was back now and it was time to face a new beginning.

The second kiss, full of passionate tenderness, told him that there was no other home for him but her arms, There, there was only one Victor, the devoted husband in love with his wife since forever. The wound of their fight progressively faded as he sank deeper and deeper in her embrace and her mouth, her taste the most exquisite delicacy he had ever tried; her pure love for him strong enough to wash away all his exhaustion and worry.

They parted a while later, trying to regain their breaths. Victor pressed a kiss to her forehead and her temple, nuzzling her hair and inhaling her scent, and she hid her face in the curve of his neck, whispering words of welcoming against his skin, which only stirred the fire of desire in his blood even more. However, he knew nothing about pregnancy and the sole thought that his touch could hurt her or the baby filled his body and mind with unease, stopping him from seeking the warmth that surely awaited him in her embrace. He breathed deeply, clenching his jaw and swallowing hard.

“Let’s get you that pudding” he murmured when he felt calmer.

Her cheeks were still flushed when she lifted her head to look at him, wondering if he was serious.

“But, shouldn’t you relax this evening? I’m sure you must be tired after such a long journey.”

Concern shone in her pupils mixed with confusion and disappointment that he was sure matched his own. Feeling the sudden need to soothe her worry, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her once again, slowly and deeply, taking his time to tell her without words that he wanted her more than anyone or anything. She seemed to understand, since her hands came to rest on his arms, not trying to pull him to her.

He smiled against her lips, lingering just a moment before separating from her, remembering her words about their need for better communication. It was obvious by her content expression that she had figured a bit about his reasons for not continuing what they had started, but maybe, it was not a bad occasion to start working on that. Even though he did not like talking about his feelings, he had realised that sometimes, it was necessary.

“I can do that later, when you’ve filled your stomach” he lifted her in his arms and she yelped, wrapping her arms around his neck. “However, don’t get used to this. I’m not going to spoil you for eight months.”

She laughed and swang her legs playfully, like a little girl, as he started making their way to the kitchen.

“Then, I’ll get what I can while it lasts.”

THE END

[gewmme]

The Little Ensign - Part 3 (DataxOC)

She had been on board for a total of 8 hours, and while she felt a little bit better about everything, she still hated it here. She waited on the bed as Doctor Crusher finished up her physical. She never was a big fan of doctors, but found that she didn't mind Doctor Crusher as much as she did others. "You're all set Ensign James." The voice of said doctor snapped her out of her thoughts. "Thanks Doctor." She flashed a slight smile as she stood up from the bed.

What now? She wondered as she exited the sickbay. She still didn't know where anything was so there wasn't any point in trying to get somewhere specific. Might as well just wander around, her first shift didn't start until 0800 tomorrow and it was only about 1400 at the moment.

So wander she did, she spent a good hour looking around and poking her head into different rooms before she finally stumbled upon a rather lively looking place. It seemed to be a recreational room of some sort. She wandered over to the bar and sat down, where she was met by a kind looking woman with an interesting hat.

"I haven't seen you here before." She paused to glance at the Ensign's uniform "Are you with the new staff?" Her calm, soothing voice spoke through the noisy conversations of the other crewmates. The younger girl simply responded with a curt nod. "I'm Guinan, what's your name kid?" The woman asked, the corners of her lips turning up into a faint smile. "I'm Kasey." She answered, fidgeting her thumbs.   "Well then Kasey, can I get you anything to drink?" Guinan offered, an eyebrow raised. The younger woman shook her head in reply. "No thank you."

The young Ensign sat in silence, thinking over the prior events of the day. How embarrassing, honestly, who gets lost on their first day? She's supposed to be a genius and she can't even find the sickbay, jeez what a--

She was pulled from her thinking by a familiar voice. "Ensign, pardon me if this is a personal question, but how old are you?" Guinan was now back to her spot across from Kasey, raising both eyebrows as she inquired. "I'm fourteen years, three months, six days, thirteen hours and twenty-something minutes old." The blonde stated dryly, pressing her lips into a thin line. Of course she'd ask that, someone was bound to eventually. "Fourteen? My, that's quite young to be an Ensign. Tell me, how did you manage that?" The older woman smiled as she leaned closer to listen.

Meanwhile, down in Engineering, Data found himself thinking of the young girl. He had been quite intrigued by her and his mind kept wandering back to what she had said. 'Maybe you're just a lot more human than I expected.' That's what she had told him, perhaps his efforts to be more human have been paying off? He should probably get Geordi's opinion on the matter.

"Data, are you alright? You look a little out of it." Came the voice of the Chief Engineer in question, snapping him out of his thoughts. "I believe I am functioning within normal perimeters Geordi. However, I do find myself to be somewhat distracted." At this, Geordi snapped his head up to look at him. "Distracted? By what, Data?"  "I have found myself analyzing an earlier interaction with a crewmate."  This caused Geordi to raise an eyebrow before questioning him further. "Which crewmate?"   The android quirked his head to the side before answering. "I am unsure of her name, but she is the directionally challenged Ensign who got lost on her way to sickbay earlier. I find her to be quite intriguing."  

"So what is it that happened that you keep thinking about Data?"  "She told me that I am 'more human than she expected'. This has caused me to hypothesize that perhaps my endeavors to become more human have been effective." Geordi chuckled, a smile gracing his lips. "Well Data, I think you're right, you're always getting more human each day."  Data processed this for a moment before quirking the corner of his lip into a slight smile.

"And then I got assigned to The Enterprise and that's how I got here." Kasey finished, recounting the last of her story to Guinan. "Wow, that's quite the experience." She smiled, raising her eyebrows briefly. "Kasey, have you met with the ship's counselor yet?" "I didn't know there was a counselor." The Ensign raised an eyebrow. "Well there is, she's right over there." Guinan paused to point at a pretty, young woman with black curly hair.  "Her name is Deanna Troi, why don't you go on over and say hello?" She gestured for Kasey to go talk to her.

The blonde cautiously made her way over to where the counselor was sitting. "Hi, I'm Ensign Kasey James, you're the ship's counselor right?" She introduced herself, awkwardly fidgeting with her thumbs. The woman smiled. "Yes, I'm counselor Troi, please have a seat Ensign."        She mumbled a soft thanks before sitting down across from the counselor. "How are you liking the Enterprise so far, Ensign?"  "I uh, It's um— It's nice." Kasey managed a stuttered reply, cursing inwardly. 'It's nice'!? What a dim-witted reply, it's no wonder people don't think you're grown up enough to be here.  "I can sense your anxieties Ensign." The counselor smiled softly. "Is there something in particular that you want to talk about?"  "Well.." She let out a sigh. "There is one thing, but it's not really important. It's silly really."   "If it's bothering you Ensign, then I don't think it's silly."  

The Ensign bit her lip slightly, sighing. "I mean, I guess I just sort of feel like I don't belong here."  "How come?"    "I don't know... I mean, I'm just a kid. Am I really good enough to be an engineer on a starship?" She paused a moment, a frown on her features. "I hear some of the other crew whispering about me sometimes. About how I couldn't possibly be smart enough to be here at my age, and that I probably bribed my way here." She finished, pressing her lips into a thin line. "Well Ensign, the fact that you're here proves that you're plenty smart enough. And I'm sure you wouldn't be able to bribe your way into the Enterprise even if you tried." The counselor chuckled. "My advice is to try your best to ignore their whispers for now and prove them wrong through your actions, show them that you're smart enough to help get this ship through her worst of times. And Ensign, age does not equal knowledge." The counselor concluded, a delicate smile gracing her lips.

Kasey smiled, an awkward, but genuine smile. "Thank you counselor Troi, that actually really helps a lot." She smiled back. "I'm glad I could help Ensign." The counselor looked at her watch for a moment. "It's been a pleasure meeting you Kasey, but I'm afraid I have an appointment in just a few minutes." She chuckled, standing to leave.   "Of course, it was a pleasure to meet you as well counselor." The blonde nodded in response.

After the counselor left, Kasey stood, wandering back to her place at the bar. "How did it go?" A familiar voice spoke, causing the Ensign to look up from the counter. "It went surprisingly well, I feel a bit better about everything now." Guinan smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. Can I get you anything Kasey?" A thoughtful look washed over the girl in question, as if she was debating something.  After a moments thought she came to a conclusion. "Um chocolate milk please." she mumbled bashfully, a delicate, rosy blush painting her cheeks. This caused the older woman to chuckle before going to retrieve a chocolate milk.

Geordi and Data arrived at Ten Forward, chatting about the day's earlier events. Geordi scanned the room, only half listening to Data's babbling, when he spotted Kasey at the bar. "Data, look, It's that 'directionally challenged Ensign' you were talking about earlier." He gestured in her direction, causing Data to turn his attention to the girl in question. "Why don't we go on over and say hello? It's her first day so she probably hasn't met many people yet." Data simply nodded in agreement, following Geordi to the bar where the Ensign was.

Kasey was cheerfully chatting away with Guinan, a pleasant contrast to her earlier bad mood, when Geordi and Data approached the bar, sitting on either side of her. Kasey managed a quick glance to both of them while Guinan greeted them. She had smiled at them fondly, she seemed to know them pretty well. Maybe they come here often, Kasey pondered to herself, sipping on her chocolate milk.

Geordi nudged the Ensign gently. "I don't think we've formally introduced ourselves, I'm Geordi La Forge and this is Data." He smiled. Kasey glanced at the two of them again, remembering the incident from earlier. She gave an awkward chuckle. "I'm Kasey It's uh nice to meet you." The Ensign fidgeted with her thumbs, wanting nothing more than to get away from this awkward interaction. "So Ensign, I'm surprised you managed to find your way to Ten-Forward, how did you do it?" He smirked, chuckling. Kasey pressed her lips into a thin line. "I was just wandering, I didn't even know this place existed." She remarked dryly. She was getting more exasperated with the Chief Engineer with each passing second.

"Now now, don't pick on Kasey." Guinan placed Geordi's drink in front of him. "She's only been here for half a day, you wouldn't want her to put in a transfer request already, would you?" The woman chuckled, leaning on the bar counter. "Oh alright Guinan, I'll play nice." Geordi snickered, taking a sip of his drink. "Do you want another drink Kasey?" Guinan asked the Ensign who was now toying with the straw in her empty chocolate milk glass. Kasey looked up from her glass, mumbling a soft 'yes please'. The woman smiled at her timidity, heading over to the replicator to get another glass of chocolate milk.

Half an hour passed, along with several failed attempts from Geordi to start a conversation.

("So Ensign, how old are you?" "14." -- "How did you manage to get to be an engineer that young?" "long story, maybe i'll tell you someday" -- "Geordi i do not believe the Ensign wants to talk" "wow Data what would possibly make u say that its not like shes been shooting down my attempts to make smalltalk" "but Geordi??? That is literally exactly what she is doing???")

"Ensign, are we making you uncomfortable?" Data finally spoke up, raising an eyebrow. Kasey turned her head to Data. "Honestly? Yeah, but I've been uncomfortable almost the entire time I've been here." She took a long sip of her chocolate milk. "Would you prefer if Geordi and I left you alone?" The android tilted his head. "Yes but like, it's fine. I have to get used to being around my coworkers sooner or later." The Ensign sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Geordi raised a brow. "So does this mean you're gonna tell us how you got here?" He smirked. "I too would like to know." Data looked at her curiously. Kasey rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Fine." She sighed, beginning her tale of how she came to be here.

Hours passed. Kasey finished her story, They all talked for a while, Geordi left to get some sleep, and Data rambled on about something technical, as Kasey listened intently.

Kasey stood up from her seat, only to stretch her legs, as Data finished his ramble. "Ensign?" The android quirked his head to the side. "May I ask you a question?" "Sure, ask away." The Ensign leaned on the bar counter as she stood. "I have been thinking about what you said earlier, that I am 'more human than you had expected'." He paused for a moment, as if he was thinking of the right words to say next. "What is it that you were anticipating?"

"Well, when I think of androids, I think of like a robotic person that just does what people tells it to, can't think for itself, and doesn't feel anything." Data furrowed his brows, looking almost confused. "Fascinating." He whispered. "How is it that I do not fit those criteria?" The Ensign's eyebrows raised in shock. "You're kidding right?" She took a long sip of her 5th chocolate milk of the night before preparing to answer. "Well for one, you look very human. I did think you looked a bit pale but like, It's just your skin tone, people have been pale before so I just thought maybe you didn't get a lot of sun." The android listened curiously as she spoke. "Secondly, you can clearly think for yourself, nobody told to you think about what I said earlier, but you did anyway." She paused for another sip of chocolate milk. "Thirdly, It's pretty clear to me that you feel things."

Data quirked his head to the side. "But Ensign, I do not have feelings or emotions, it is not in my programming."

"What makes you say that?"

"I am unable to process such things as humans do." Kasey raised a brow as she sat back on the stool. "Well I agree with you on that note." This caused Data to furrow his brow. "Is that not contradictory to your earlier statement??" Kasey chuckled, shaking her head. "No, you see, I said you feel things, you said you don't feel things 'as humans do'. And as much as quite a few humans would hate to admit it, 'as humans do' is not the only way to experience or do something." She paused for a brief moment. "It seems to me that you process them in your own way." Data took a moment to think about this. "I still do not fully understand, what is it that causes you to believe this?" "Think of it this way sir, you enjoy the company of your friends, don't you?" He nodded, seemingly unsure of where she was going with this. "I'm no psychologist, but the way I see it, enjoying the company of a friend ultimately stems from liking that person, in a friendly manner of course, which I believe stems from a positive feeling associated with that person. However, I could be wrong, it just seems to me that if you were truly emotionless, you wouldn't be capable of enjoying the friendships you have." She finished, leaving a rather perplexed Data to process this.

"Fascinating." Data whispered, causing Kasey to smile slightly as she sipped on her chocolate milk.

It was silent for a while, but soon enough Data started rambling again. Kasey smiled, listening as he went on and on about something completely random.

An hour passed, Data was still rambling about who knows what and Kasey was standing again, leaning on the bar counter. Data paused his babbling, noting the time. "Ensign, it is 0100 hours, are you not tired?" "0100 hours? It's really that late?" The Ensign rubbed her eyes, stifling a yawn. "Perhaps you should retire to your quarters and rest."  "If I don't get lost first, that is." She snickered. Data stood, taking her by the sleeve. "I will escort you there so you do not get lost." "Oh- um I- Thanks." Kasey mumbled, her awkwardness resurfacing for a brief moment.

The two of them left Ten-Forward, Data holding Kasey by the sleeve, as they found their way to her quarters.

Data let go of her sleeve as they arrived. The Ensign sleepily punched in the code to her room. "G'night sir." She mumbled through a yawn. "Goodnight Ensign." The android's lips quirked up into a very slight smile as he went to go back to his own quarters.

Kasey closed the door behind her before wrestling her shoes off and collapsing clumsily onto her bed. She actually had a pretty good time talking with her senior officers, even if La Forge did bring up that whole getting lost incident from earlier.

One thought crossed her mind as she laid in her bed, just before she fell asleep.

She had only been here for 19 hours. But maybe, just maybe — she didn't quite hate it here anymore.

[rulesofthebeneath]

masters of our fates, chapter 1

@ajaysbhandari @pixelburied @itsbrindleybinch @awkwardalbatros @ravenclawpokegirl25 @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @witchiegirl @ajayforlife @furiouscloddonutpeanut

Grace glared into the mirror, trying to make the edge of the wig meet her natural hairline seamlessly. It was a futile effort-- it was always a futile effort-- but for some reason, this bothered her more today than it usually did.

Support group. The idea scared her, frankly. How was she supposed to go up in front of a whole bunch of people and tell them her life story? She could scarcely remember the last time she’d been onstage. Pre-diagnosis, for sure. Back in middle school, when she was just a bright-eyed thirteen-year-old trying her best to fit in.

Now sixteen, she looked into the mirror and shook her head. Three years seemed more like a lifetime ago, when she thought about how much had changed. How much she had changed.

She finally decided to just take the wig off and ran a comb through the layers of her hair cut into a long pixie. She didn’t like it, but it would have to do today. There was no use putting on airs for other teenagers that also had cancer. They’d see right through her ill-fitting wig that could only trick the most gullible. And anyways, her nasal cannula and the cart that she always dragged around with her that held her oxygen canister was a dead giveaway that something was very, very wrong with her.

Sixteen and dying, she thought to herself, seeing her humorless smirk reflected back at her. There had been a time when she was still soft inside. Grace liked that part of herself, but it hadn’t been strong enough to last through the chemotherapy, the surgeries, the doctor’s appointments where she was told she didn’t have long.

And yet, Grace thought, life keeps dragging me along. Like roadkill that got stuck to the bottom of a car tire.

She knew she wasn’t supposed to think like that. That was why her therapist told her mom about the support group that met in the auditorium of some old high school in town. It was the same one she would’ve ended up going to, if it weren’t for… everything else.

Her parents had taken her out of school upon her diagnosis of thyroid cancer, when she was 13. What had followed had been the worst years of her young life, poked and prodded and cut open and flushed with chemicals within an inch of death. That’s what they’d told her, at least. 

Her cancer had proven untreatable. Even though she underwent surgery to remove her entire thyroid, the cancer had already spread into her lungs and was slowly drowning her. Chemotherapy didn’t touch the tumors, and the aggressive rounds of every kind of drug that the doctors thought might help caused all her hair to fall out and all the fat on her body to disappear, leaving her skeletal. But even as the tumors grew and grew, even as her skin broke out in rashes and her ribs showed through her skin, even as she spent long nights drowning on fluid-filled lungs, her heart kept beating. 

Grace didn’t know why. And sometimes she wished it hadn’t. But it did, and a couple medical trials and a few experimental drugs later, the tumors had stopped growing. And Grace resurfaced, hacking the fluid up and out of her lungs, agonizingly and beautifully alive. Her doctors had called it a miracle, and her parents called it a blessing. Only Grace saw it as it truly was, though.

She saw the collateral damage that her family had faced. She knew her brushes with death had traumatized her twin brother, who was maybe the only person in the world who knew her better than she knew herself. And her parents had given up so much-- their diner, which had been their dream ever since they were newlywed twenty-somethings, had had to go so they could pay for Grace’s treatment. Now her father worked grueling hours as a line cook and her mother worked at a bookshop part time, but cared for Grace full time. 

In truth, Grace knew that she had only destroyed their lives. That although nobody would say it, it would’ve been easier had she succumbed to the water in her lungs.

But maybe not. If there was anything worse than dying of cancer, it was having a kid who died of cancer. Or a twin. No, Grace wouldn’t wish that on them. Even though she wished they cared less, she knew she meant the world to her family. And they meant the world to her, too. 

But sometimes, it was so hard to breathe.

She made the mistake of mentioning that statement to her therapist, which was what had brought her here. In the living room of her house, with her twin brother fishing their car keys out of a dish on the counter, getting ready to drive her to the school.

As they left the house and started into the warm Saturday morning, Grace squinted to shield her eyes from the brightness of the June sun. 

“You clearly aren’t getting out enough,” James said pointedly, though he grinned as he pressed the button on the key fob to unlock the door. “I don’t think I’ve seen you leave your bed at all this week.”

“Sleep fights cancer,” Grace mumbled as she climbed into the car, pulling her oxygen cart in after. She closed the door, making sure it didn’t shut on the line.

“Yeah, but I hear fresh air does too,” James replied. When Grace didn’t answer, he turned on the radio to a pop station. He reversed the car out of the driveway and onto the street they lived on, and they rode in silence.

Not five minutes later, though, James slammed the button that silenced the radio. Grace looked over at him, startled.

“You never smile anymore,” he said.

“I’m dying,” Grace retorted. She made to turn back around to the window, but her line got tangled around a button of her sweater and forced her to spend a few moments with shaky fingers untangling it.

“You’re not, though,” James said, taking advantage of her line malfunction to hold her captive in a conversation. “I mean, your body’s not perfect and your health still sucks, but you’re not gonna die anytime soon.”

“Thanks to a drug that’s expensive as hell,” Grace said, again trying to cut herself out of the conversation. James wouldn’t let it happen though.

“That’s not the point, and you know it,” he said, and even though his eyes were turned towards the road, Grace could feel them flashing with anger. “You were given a chance to live, and instead you just lay around sleeping and watching TV. I know you want to go out and do things, but you won’t let yourself. Why?”

Grace fumed. She was furious at her brother, because his words touched every frayed nerve in her brain. 

“I wish I had a dog instead of a twin,” she said finally. “At least a dog wouldn’t judge me.”

“You’d have to clean up its poop,” James said matter-of-factly.

“A small price to pay for getting to keep my secrets.”

James rolled his eyes, though both had calmed down enough for twin smiles to show on their faces.

“Make me a deal, and I’ll leave you alone about it,” James offered.

Grace raised an eyebrow. “What’s the catch?”

“Try to socialize at the support group,” he said. “It’s people like you. They won’t judge you. And besides, you already know Mrs. Silva.”

That was true. Their neighbor, Mrs. Silva, had gone through breast cancer a while back, and had relapsed when Grace was 14. Grace had heard that the high school where her kid, Rory, went had used the school play to raise money for her treatment. She was in remission now.

“Plus, maybe Rory will be there.”

Rory had been Grace’s and James’ childhood best friend, but Grace had lost touch with Rory post-diagnosis. She’d lost touch with pretty much everyone. James and Rory ran in different circles at school, but they spoke occasionally. Grace remembered how they’d run against each other for student body president, with Rory eventually winning when James threw his support behind them. In return, James was their vice president. It had all worked out for the best, but Grace was pretty sure the months leading up to it had been awful for James. She hadn’t been home enough to really pay attention to him, but she could tell he was stressed during his daily visits to her hospital room. She still held a lot of guilt in her heart for not being there for him during his time of need.

“If it means I get to binge-watch America’s Most Eligible once I get home, then fine. Deal. I’ll say a few words to Rory, and their mom.”

“Thank youuuuu,” James said in a sing-song voice, laughing. His laugh was infectious, one of the things Grace both loved and hated about him. She couldn’t resist, and giggled a little too. James noticed, and gasped dramatically.

“There’s your smile! I thought it had gone missing.”

Grace whacked him, but his athlete’s physique hardly noticed her weak attempt. Before James’ grin faded entirely, Grace saw that he had pulled up to the school and she got out as quickly as she could, careful not to tangle herself in her line again.

“Thanks for the ride, James,” she said.

“No problem. I’ll pick you up in an hour?”

Grace pressed her lips together and looked towards the sign that marked the building as Berry High School. Suddenly, she wanted to know what else she’d missed out on, besides the play and the election.

“No, I think I’ll get a ride home with Rory and Mrs. Silva, maybe get dinner with them. It’s been way too long since I’ve spent time with them.”

James grinned, and Grace swore that it lit up the entire day. Regardless of what he said to her, it had been way too long since he’d truly smiled either.

“Damn right it has. I’ll tell mom, and we’ll see you at home later.”

“See you.”

With that, Grace turned and walked through the doors of Berry High School. As soon as she crossed into the front lobby, she spotted the door to the auditorium, conveniently propped open for wheelchair users. She slipped inside as quietly as she could with the oxygen canister rattling around in the cart.

The theatre was decked out in red, the ruby-colored curtains that framed the stage complemented by the deep red seats. Grace ran her hand along the stained velour, wondering how old it was. Then, an enthusiastic voice pulled her out of her reverie.

“Is that Grace?!” the voice said, and then Rory Silva themselves stood up from one of the folding chairs placed in a circle on the stage. They ran down the stairs and threw themselves at Grace, nearly knocking her over with a massive bear hug. Grace was barely able to steady herself by gripping the edge of a seat tightly.

Rory soon noticed that Grace wasn’t hugging back, presumably because she held onto the theatre seat with a death grip and her oxygen cart with the other. They released her quickly, stepping back in horror.

“Oh god, Grace, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

Grace forced a smile onto her face. She loved Rory like a sibling, but hadn’t expected to be so aggressively greeted within seconds of stepping into the auditorium. The interaction had winded her.

“No, don’t worry,” she managed. Rory nodded, but still looked wary.

“We’re all up here,” they said, gesturing towards the circle of chairs onstage. About half of them were filled, and Grace didn’t recognize any of the faces. One of them was staring at her, a healthy-looking boy wearing a blazer, jeans, and thick glasses. He had one eyebrow raised, and the whole look came off rather condescendingly to Grace. 

Great, she thought. Some asshole already doesn’t like me.

She broke eye contact with the boy and turned back to Rory.

“Come on up to the stage. We have a ramp set up and everything.”

Grace snorted, noting the presence of a girl in a wheelchair on the stage. “I sure hope you do.”

Rory laughed, and the two headed up towards the stage. Once Grace rolled her hand-cart up the ramp, which took more effort than she’d hoped, she was greeted by Mrs. Silva, a slight woman not much taller than Grace who was short herself, wrapping her into a tight hug. 

“It’s great to see you, my dear. We’ve missed you around the house, like when you and Rory were kids.”

“Well, we’re not exactly kids anymore,” Grace said, and then instantly regretted it as Mrs. Silva’s face fell slightly. God, Grace reprimanded herself silently. Why can’t you just fake your way through a conversation?

To Mrs. Silva’s credit, she recovered quickly. She put on a warm smile. “As a mother, I’ll always see Rory’s friends as the little kids who used to dig up my flowers.”

Grace smiled despite herself, then Mrs. Silva released her. Grace knew she needed to find somewhere to sit down soon, she could already feel herself getting weak. She sat down in the first chair she could find, directly across from Rory… and the boy who had been staring at her, who was now just eyeing her occasionally. It unsettled her, and she wrapped her sweater tighter around herself. She decided to stare back at him, to try and assert dominance, and he raised both of his eyebrows like he was amused. She didn’t dare break his gaze for fear of losing.

A few minutes and a couple people later, Mrs. Silva finally sat in the chair that she had been standing by. Grace tore her gaze away from the boy to face her, but she could still feel his eyes on her.

“Hi, everyone.” she started. “Thanks for coming today. My name is Brenda Silva, but you all can just call me Brenda.”

Like hell I will, Grace thought to herself. I’ve never called you anything other than Mrs. Silva, and I’m not going to stop now.

“I want to go around the circle and have everyone introduce themselves to start. Name, age, and diagnosis if you feel comfortable sharing that. I’ll start: as I said my name is Brenda, I’m forty six years old, and I have breast cancer, but I’ve been in remission for two years.”

She gestured to Rory to continue.

“Oh, um, hi, I’m Rory,” they said, smiling in their characteristic goofy way. “I’m seventeen, and, uh, I don’t have cancer but I’m here to support my mom.” They gestured to Mrs. Silva as deferentially as if she were royalty, making some in the circle let out a small laugh.

The next person to go was a small, bored-looking but rather pretty redhead. “My name’s Skye, I’m sixteen, and I had leukemia as a kid but I’ve been in remission for four years now,” she said, smiling slightly at the last few words. Grace was happy for her too- four years was almost a guarantee of total remission- but a pang of jealousy swiped through her as well. She tried to suppress it.

“Congratulations, Skye,” Mrs. Silva said warmly. “Here’s hoping for five.”

Skye’s eyes widened, but she accepted the comment and ducked her head. Once the attention was off her and onto the next person, she slouched down in her chair. It was clear that she didn’t want to be noticed or singled out. Grace tended to agree with her. There was a time where Grace lived for the spotlight, but that time had passed. 

She started thinking about texting James to make him come pick her up after all, but before she could surreptitiously dig her phone out of her back pocket, it was her turn to introduce herself.

“Hi, I’m Grace,” she started softly. “I’m sixteen too. My original diagnosis was thyroid, but it spread to my lungs.”

The others in the circle nodded, and the attention passed mercifully to the next person. Without meaning to, Grace found her eyes on the boy with the glasses again. He was looking at her with interest, almost as if he was trying to analyze her.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring when he looked away towards Mrs. Silva. Grace looked down at her lap.

Get a grip, she told herself. 

“I’m Ajay,” he said, introducing himself with a rather authoritative voice. “I’m seventeen, and I had osteosarcoma.”

“Had?” Grace asked before she could stop herself. Everyone turned towards her, and she turned red. Ajay’s eyes fixed on hers.

“Yes, had. I went into remission last summer after my lower leg was amputated.” He pulled up the hem of his jeans to show a clearly artificial ankle joint. Grace bit her lip and looked away, embarrassed. 

From what she knew about it, osteosarcoma was rarely terminal, but it usually took an amputation to check you out of the hospital. She felt bad for having judged him just because he looked healthy, and she knew exactly how frail she must look with her cannula and her face puffy from the miracle drug. In contrast, he stood tall and bore no signs of the illness that had taken his leg, save for the prosthetic. His hair looked smooth, not a single hair out of place unlike her messy hairdo, and she found herself starting to wish that she had at least tried to put the wig on.

Stop thinking about him, she told herself, and she turned to watch Mrs. Silva as she started a conversation about something or other. Grace effectively zoned out, an action she’d mastered during the long lonely hours of recovery in the hospital or through the chemotherapy treatments. It was second nature by now.

By the time Ajay spoke up again, Grace didn’t know how much time had passed, but his voice startled her into consciousness. 

“I just don’t see the point of optimism,” he was saying, “if we’re all going to die anyway.”

“Ajay,” Mrs. Silva said quietly, in a warning tone.

Grace’s blood started to boil, and she knew she was overreacting, but she couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t going to die. His cancer was in remission, he’d been given that chance at life that Grace hadn’t been. Who was he to think he could own cynicism?

“That’s easy for you to say,” Grace retorted, and she watched as his gaze met hers, his eyebrows lifted up again in that amused way, which just made Grace more mad.

“What’s easy for me to say?” he asked, a slight smirk at the edge of his lips. Grace narrowed her eyes.

“That we’re all going to die anyway. I’m dying every day, and you got another chance at life.” As she said the words, she became aware that she was unintentionally repeating her brother’s point from earlier, in the car.

He cocked his head to the side, looking like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He simply watched Grace, like she was an interesting TV show. She bit off her next words with all the malice she possessed.

“Don’t tell me what it’s like to die, since you get to live.”

“Grace--” Mrs. Silva tried to cut her off, but she was already done. She stared back down at her lap, twisting her hands together, avoiding Mrs. Silva’s eyes. There was no way she could ride home with them now. Not now that she’d said something really impulsive in front of Mrs. Silva’s whole support group. She was already regretting her words.

Mrs. Silva changed the topic and started to wrap up the meeting, and through it all, though Grace looked down, she could still sense Ajay’s eyes on her. As soon as the group finished the meeting, Grace was out of her seat like a shot, pulling her canister after her as fast as she could go until she was finally out of the building. 

Up against the wall, she panted until she regained her breath. As Rory and Mrs. Silva walked over to where their car was parked, and the others either drove or caught rides themselves, Grace remembered that she had no ride. She cursed audibly, and at that exact moment Ajay appeared just outside the doors of Berry High, a cane held in his left hand. An amused smile played on his lips.

“Need a ride?” he offered, clearly enjoying the way her eyes flashed at his words.

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, pulling her phone out of her pocket to text James. Before she could unlock the phone, though, he spoke again.

“You were right, you know. I shouldn’t be telling you how to live.”

Grace looked up.

“I shouldn’t be telling you how to live, either,” she argued back. “I barely know you.”

“Do you think we can fix that?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in what now seemed to be a curious gaze, rather than a condescending one.

Grace met his eyes for a few moments, then nodded slowly.

“I do need a ride,” she said. “I was supposed to ride home with Rory and get dinner at their house, but, well…” She gestured to the Silva’s car, already pulling out onto the main road.

“Oh, okay,” Ajay said, clearly not having expected that. “How long have you known Rory?”

“I’ve lived next door to them my whole life,” Grace said, biting her lip.

“Really? I’ve never heard them talk about you.”

Ouch, Grace thought. That was a hard blow, to know her childhood best friend never thought about her anymore, but she supposed it was fair. This meeting had been the first time she’d seen them in a few months, and that visit was hardly more than a half hour long.

“Oh,” she said, and Ajay turned to her as he seemed to realize he’d said something wrong. He opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, but Grace shook her head and he backed down.

“I am pretty hungry,” Grace said, staring off into the distance towards the Golden Griddle. Even when she was feeling her best, she could still be swept away by the waves of guilt over that. They had given up their dream, their pride and joy, just for her.

She would never be able to forgive herself for that.

“Let’s go get lunch, then. On me.”

Startled out of her self-imposed guilt trip, Grace simply stared at Ajay.

“I barely know you,” she managed, repeating herself from earlier.

“I thought we were fixing that?” he asked, both eyebrows raised. 

He thinks I’m quirky, Grace realized. That was fair enough.

“Sure, alright.”

Ajay shook his head.

“You’re a very… interesting person, Grace.”

Grace didn’t have a response to that, so when Ajay turned to walk towards his car, she followed him silently.

His car was the fanciest car she’d ever seen, and she couldn’t even figure out how much it must’ve cost. It was a sports car, but he clearly wasn’t really thrilled with it. In fact, once they got into the car, he turned to her before starting the engine.

“I’m not an asshole,” he said, causing her to laugh. “I know how it looks. But there’s a reason why I have this car. And it’s not because I’m a rich snobby asshole.”

“Oh? And what’s the reason?” Grace said through a big smile.

Ajay started the engine, which practically purred to life, and he wrinkled his nose at the sound.

“I can’t share all of my secrets,” he said simply, and backed out of the parking space.

Grace wanted to know more, but she dropped the subject. She actually kind of liked the mystery. One day, she’d be able to get that story out of him.

Wait, she thought. One day? You can’t think like that. Who knows what one day will be?

She shook her head, trying her best to enjoy the moment. The reminder of her circumstances creeped in around the edges, making everything foggy.

“Where to?” Ajay asked, and the fog thinned.

[fangirlinglikeabus]

i read some non vna dw books a while ago but because i am a Clown i’ve only just finished typing up notes on them...i think my next dw book i’ll make notes as i go rather than just marking the pages and Hoping I Remember. anyway! here’s my thoughts on thirteen doctors 13 stories. i have more opinions on some than others. 

A BIG HAND FOR THE DOCTOR

"...Susan, who was possibly the only person in the universe who could make the Doctor smile at the mere thought of her."

awwwwww

didn't really like this one that much - i wasn't too impressed with eoin colfer's characterisation of the first doctor (esp since pre-ian and barbara i don’t think he’d willingly attempt to stop some villains until susan was in danger)

THE NAMELESS CITY

Polly...once described him as looking like an unmade bed.

lmao

...he didn't know exactly what he was, though when he was growing up, he had heard tales of the legendary fairy creatures of the Unseelie Court who haunted Scotland's deepest valleys. He suspected the Doctor might be one of the dark Sith.

HEAVILY vibe with this concept the world is saved by bagpipes.......peak dw THE SPEAR OF DESTINY

"You know what I love about London?" he said, turning to her briefly. She sighed. "I'm sure I can't guess." "It's the only city in the universe where you can drive around in a car that's seventy years old and get away with it." "Who says you're getting away with it?" Jo muttered. 

nkdfsjksn

"Fire away!"

"Oh, Doctor, please. Not after that business at the museum."

no doctor is immune to the temptation of a good pun. no matter how inappropriate. actually i really like how jo and three are written in this generally. there's so many good scenes. also, when the doctor asks her why she doesn't know anything about the vikings: "Doctor, we did the Romans. Every year." rip jo

From a distance the Doctor watched as a group of about twenty men loaded the TARDIS on to the back of a large low wagon pulled by four sturdy oxen.

jo: the doctor told me about the perception filter on the tardis so it'll be fine! they won't even spot it. literally the next scene, immediately:

She longed to stand and give this old goat a piece of her mind, but she knew she'd most likely fall over if she tried, which wasn't the effect she was after.

aw jo :(

"Do you know they wash once a week?" "Could have fooled me," muttered Jo.

*desperately resists the urge to write down every jo line in this story*

"I have the ship. And I have the spear. What need have I of you any more?"

the master is betrayed. to the surprise of no-one but himself.

The Doctor held her by the shoulders. "My dear girl," he said. "That is very noble of you. You were right. Your aspirations /are/ the very noblest. But you're wrong about something. Nothing is more important than you."

me, sobbing:

ROOTS OF EVIL

realised as i was reading this that i don't own any books featuring leela.....a crime

"Surprise!" the Doctor said. "You know you were complaining that you missed trees?"

this is actually the cutest thing no-one look at me

She could never understand why the Doctor was so careless of danger. It was a good thing he had her to look after him, she thought, as he opened the TARDIS door and they stepped out together into dim, green light and the earthy, warm-compost smell inside the great tree.

phillip reeve gets the four+leela dynamic. like. he Gets it. 

"It will not hurt you," she promised. "It is called a 'scarf'. It is like a cloak, only pointless."

ousdofnsoksfd

"Did it look a bit like a gravel pit? You'd be amazed how many alien worlds look just like gravel pits..."

what is doctor who. without quarry jokes.

"I mean, he's wearing a bow tie!" the Doctor explained patiently. "Ridiculous objects! I wouldn't be seen dead in a bow tie!"

1) says the guy who wears an obnoxiously long scarf everywhere 2) honey, you've got a big storm coming

TIP OF THE TONGUE

there's a scene in this where nyssa and the doctor chill at a diner and they drink chocolate milkshakes together. this is all i care about.

Good Lord, was that celery he was wearing on his lapel?

Yeah We Know

"Are you British?" Nettie said, as if this was the most surprising part of the whole thing.

i mean, fair

He paused. "I don't suppose either of you would be interested in travelling?"

the fifth doctor: hey one of my friends died recently and i abandoned the other one but i really miss having a large crew so i was wondering if you two literal children would like to risk your life travelling with me :)

SOMETHING BORROWED

you'd think given this one is from peri's pov she'd be slightly more central to the plot. ah well.

"That's two storeys up!" I exclaimed. "And I'm in heels." "Well then, you should have worn more sensible shoes, shouldn't you?"

maybe she lives in hope that she won't have to do any running/scale buildings every time she steps out of the tardis. i get that. 

"Well, you are the expert when it comes to gaudy," I said, giving a meaningful look to his red-and-yellow plaid coat and green tie.

every six story is legally obligated to drag his coat

The Doctor shook the man's hand vigorously. "Yes, yes. A little different round the edges since our last meeting on Kiri 4, but all the charm and intellect are still here."

i love this bastard.......

"Love? That contrived, chemically driven state of idiocy?"

mood

A clatter of metal was the sole warning I had before a hole in the ceiling suddenly opened, and the Doctor came tumbling down to the floor, landing in an ungraceful heap of rainbow plaid. Nonetheless, he rose to his feet with all the dignity of an Olympic gymnast who'd just landed a perfect somersault.

not to sound like a broken record but i would Die for this idiot

withholding myself from using more quotes to illustrate my unbridled love for the sixth doctor whom..........

"You might regret not helping me with this one day," she  [the Rani] called over to us. "Your next regeneration may be sooner than you think."

Huh. I Wonder What That's Referring To

RIPPLE EFFECT

From the look on his face, Ace reckoned that a visit to the Time Lords was something similar to her having to visit the dentist back on Earth.

i mean to be fair.....the time lords are a whole lot worse although in this case the doctor's reasons for not wanting to visit are: (i) they're 'old, boring and judgemental' (ii) they have stupid clothes and a stupid non-intervention policy (iii) they treat him 'like a naughty schoolboy' (can't have that in front of your companion!)

i apparently didn't have many comments to make on this one. um...it was good. i liked the idea of an alternate universe with nice daleks. MOVING ON

SPORE

"They're all dead....everyone's dead, flesh turned to liquid. It moves...There are things! Moving things! They're alive..." Major Platt looked up at the Doctor. "The caller became incoherent after that and disconnected shortly after." The Doctor drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the top of the aluminium folding-table between them. "Hmm...That really doesn't sound very good."

YEAH YA THINK?

"I was at the opera," the Doctor explained, "when my phone went off."

this is his excuse for That outfit. really just copying everything from grace here huh

THE BEAST OF BABYLON

She also didn't yet know that he wasn't a man at all.

yeah cos he's non-binary duh

"So now we're landing on Earth," he shouted, "two thousand years before the birth of Christ..." "Who?" "He was a bit like Sherlock Holmes. Knew the answers to everything. Very good at solving mysteries. Some humans use him to measure time."

obsessed with the implications of this dialogue...

THE MYSTERY OF THE HAUNTED COTTAGE

absolutely love the concept of this one...a world created from martha's memories of reading a famous five expy as a child

"What?" Martha said defensively, keeping her voice down. "That's how he was described in the books. Don't blame me. This was 1951. Everything back then was blinkered, sexist, and ever-so-slightly racist. It was a backward time." "Ah, yes," said the Doctor, "because 2007 has none of those things."

vibe with this convo

"Am I lonely?" Martha asked. "You're a particle of dust," the Doctor said. "Of course you're not lonely." "I sound lonely." "Well you're not; you're having a great time."

this conversation where the doctor tells martha to imagine herself as a particle of dust has exactly the same kind of energy as discussions you have at 3am at a sleepover

NOTHING O'CLOCK

Amy looked irritated. She wasn't irritated, but she liked to give him the impression she was, just to show him who was boss.

yeah...

ok the villains in this one are actually really fucked up like. it's been a While since i read it now because i procrastinated on making these notes but they were Good creepy. thank you mr gaiman. 

LIGHTS OUT

now THIS is one where the pov heavily contributes to the story...

He turns to look at me with piercing, hollow-set grey eyes, then furrows his impressive silvery brows. "I'm buying a coffee," he says. "For a girl."

so THAT'S why twelve took so long to find coffee for clara......he wasn't buying it on earth. good vibes

TIME LAPSE

i absolutely LOVE the concept for this one, which is that the year 2004 completely disappears from records

A typed envelope reading The Doctor, The TARDIS, Ex-Gallifrey followed by a long string of numbers, letters, and things that probably were letters but looked like they came from about eight different languages.

obsessed with the fact that (i) you can apparently send letters to the tardis, like it has an actual address (mel throwing a message in a bottle into space doesn't seem so unreasonable now huh...) (ii) part of this address is 'ex-gallifrey'

this dude gets rejected. and is so badly embarrassed that he erases 2004 from existence. i promise i'm not making this up.

[flopgoblins]

Ocelot Emperor

We emerge from the mists of Ireland - where we’re on retreat with next to no internet - to lay this offering at the feet of one of our favorite people and wish her a very happy birthday! @brazenbells we love you, thank you for two consecutive years of helping us write our boys, and for letting us throw them at your own.

Without further ado, the crossover smash the fans (us, mostly) have been clamoring for! Thanks, Ted. 

-

King Abran's throne was as vast and glorious as his kingdom. Made of teak, varnished until the wood seemed to glow with an inner fire, inlaid with gold and etched with scenes from myth and legend and the founding of his dynasty. 

And upon it, his wrists heavy with bangles, his fingers dripping rings, his eyes dark with kohl, lounged the crown prince, golden and glorious as a lion at rest. His eyes were lion-tawny too, and his neck was straight and proud, easily bearing the weight of the shining crown that rested upon his brow. 

“See,” said Matt, angling his phone so Nico could get a better look at himself. “You look way better in all this sparkly shit than I do.”

Nico slid off the throne with a gentle chinking and untangled the gold-ish polymer crown from his hair. Beneath the gilt, it was dark brown, but for the stark white streak Makeup had sprayed there two hours ago. “Yeah, the casting choices feel a little strange. I can see why everyone on Twitter was pulling up those fanart comps to complain about it. Still not as bad as the, uh - ”

“I know,” Matt said morosely, taking the crown back and putting it on wonky. “I don’t even tan.” They’d dyed his hair again but thankfully drawn the line at trying to make him any less pasty. Manufacturing sexual tension with someone who looks like a stretched out Oompa Loompa might be beyond even Nico’s prodigious talents. 

“I’m billed above you though. That’s progress.” Nico tried to get the crown to sit right but succeeded in tilting it drunkenly to the other side. “And, hey, it’s not every day you get a big-budget fantasy epic with a queer romance.”

“They cut out the incest. And most of the sex.” Around them, the studio walls yawned tall and green; the only solid things onset were them and the throne, and the throne was mostly resin. 

“There wasn’t that much sex in the book,” said Nico, who’d picked up the novel as soon as the casting call went out and gone through making characterization notes on every page. 

Matt, who’d read the first draft as it was posted on AO3, complete with thirteen chapters of kink that hadn’t made it into the published version, sniffed and forbore from commenting. Some hauteur was probably in keeping with playing Gael anyway. More in keeping with Tigris, though, which was further evidence Ted Nord couldn’t cast to save his life. 

“I mean, I love it, it’s a really interesting role, but I’m finding it hard to get to grips with,” Nico had said, on the first day of shooting. “Spending your whole life pretending to be being vain and shallow, because it’s not safe to be anything else. Wearing a mask so long you must start to wonder whether you’ve become it. What does that do to a person?”

“Dunno,” Matt had said. “Did you see Ray Lelacheur’s Vogue cover yet? Terrible shoes.”

Now that Nico had abandoned the regal warmth that had settled on him as if it was second nature while draped over the throne, he was stirring the pages of the script again, frowning at his lines. Tigris had been the most he’d had to stretch for a character to date, he’d told Matt, though he’d earnestly added he liked the character’s ‘chewiness.’ 

Matt, who’d struggled equally hard to locate the generosity of spirit and ease of power that was Gael, continued to think that Ted was just as bad at casting to type as he was to aesthetic. 

Nico tossed his white-streaked hair back from his forehead and dragged on his black velvet cloak. “Will you run this scene again with me? I keep not getting the timbre of his ambition right.” He mouthed a few lines, twisted a green gemstone on his finger, and cast an agonized, kohl-rimmed look at Matt. “How do I channel the appropriate volume of petulance, the feeling of a man deprived what by all rights should be his?”

Matt draped himself over his rightful throne, trying to arrange his limbs with the same boneless grace Nico had achieved so easily. “Remember when we were at that falafel truck last week and it took twenty minutes for your order to come and you started cursing god?”

“Suck my dick, Rose,” said Nico reflexively, but looked thoughtful.  

“Later,” murmured Matt, and closed his eyes to wait.

-

“Spy,” snarled the prince, rounding on his cousin. Tigris stood his ground, jaw set against the taller man’s fury, lip curling with defiant derision. “You intrude here, in my father’s house, not content to be left to your life of indulgent luxury, so desperate for attention -”

Tigris’s eyes flashed, enraged despite himself. “Attention? You think that is what I crave? Heavens forbid I seek a world beyond the gilded cage my uncle keeps me in, indulging me like a spoilt puppy and giving me just as much freedom. Attention? I would give my eyeteeth for less! If one could trade condescending oversight for actual knowledge of how our kingdom is run-”

“Our kingdom,” repeated Gael. He cocked his head to the side, curiosity warring with the outrage in his noble features. “You truly think it so, do you? But our father-”

“Uncle,” said Tigris, under his breath.

“Our uncle -”

“My uncle,” said Tigris helpfully. “Your father.”

“My - okay, your -” Matt stopped. “Gawd. This doesn’t work at all.”

“See? It doesn’t work half as well without the incest.” Nico flicked a gem-encrusted finger at Matt’s nose.

Matt wrinkled it and adjusted the hang of gold chains over his collarbones. “You say this like I’m the one who made the script changes. And for the record, Cindy was as cut up about it as you are.” Cindy, script doctor extraordinaire, had also lurked the story on AO3 as it sailed up the ‘Original Fiction’ rankings, and was as distressed as he was about the loss of the throne sex scene. “It’s not my fault transgressive familial kink hasn’t crossed over from the hets yet.”

“Kink shmink, it totally shifts the dynamic.” Nico flapped his cloak emphatically. “Adopted cousins isn’t close to the same sort of layers of resentment and entitlement being a bastard half-brother would be.”

“Right,” said Matt, who’d definitely only re-read chapter 12 seven times for the entitlement, and not the way Tigris hissed ‘brother’ while bound to a bedpost. “The morality groups would lose their shit, though. Probably it was the right call.” It was impressive enough his agency had let him sign the role at all; he’d already rocked the boat enough asking if his casting was whitewashing.

“The morality groups are gonna lose their shit over the gay factor anyway,” said Nico stubbornly. “In for a penny...”

“What about the negative associations of homosexuality with sexual taboos?” 

“What about double standards?”

“Sure, it’s a double standard and it sucks, but you gotta start somewhere. It’s a story about being an outcast and fighting for scraps of dignity, fighting to be seen as human by people who want you to be less than that, and that’s gonna resonate with a lot of kids. You gotta lay the groundwork then fuck your brother.”

Nico raised an eyebrow and Matt shut up quickly; he, or rather his agency, had made a point of never letting him be drawn into these kinds of debates. “And I think compromise robs art of its power. What does the author think?” They both glanced across the set to where a woman in a peacock-print dress watched as Ted struggled to coral the child actors for the carnival scene. Her expression, behind her glasses, was unreadable. 

“Dunno.” Matt ran his hand through his hair. The dye had dried it out and he winced at the brittle, dead-grass feel of it. “Only time we spoke, we both tried to get each other’s autographs and it was really awkward. Bet she’d have some notes for you, though.”

“D’you know, Rose, that’s not a bad idea.” Once resolved, Nico was all action and he stood, script pages fluttering to the floor, velvet cloak swirling around his ankles. The jut of his jaw said that nothing short of poor falafel truck service would defeat him. 

“Ask her to show you the predicament bondage scene,” Matt told him helpfully. “There were some really important character beats in that, I thought.”

-

“You think you’re too good for me, don’t you?”

“What?” Matt looked up, taken completely off guard. He was stretched out in Nico’s window seat, deeply absorbed in a thinkpiece on why Kai Bourke would have been a better casting choice for Gael, and thoroughly agreeing with it. Seeing his boyfriend prowling towards him with a look of cold fury and a bare chest was enough to stop him mid-anonymous comment.

Nico stalked across the room towards him, the taut anger etched in every muscle creating a frayed grace that was almost violence. “That’s the worst of you, your highness. It’s not that you hate me. It’s not that you think less of me. It’s that you think nothing of me at all!”

Finally cottoning on, Matt swung his legs around and tried to remember his lines; it was hard, he truly couldn’t remember what part of the script this was. That in itself was unusual. Matt would hardly claim himself a natural thespian or even a diligent professional, but memorizing lines had been a skill drilled into him since he was eight years old and it was a tough habit to shake. Still, while Nico’s words - Tigris’s words - sounded vaguely familiar, he couldn’t for the life of him place them in Ted and Cindy’s script. 

“But I’m going to make certain you don’t forget me, brother,” whispered Nico, and that was just it, Matt realized. It wasn’t the script at all. It wasn’t even the book. It was the original.

“You read it?” he mouthed, as Nico’s hand wrapped around his wrist. 

“Shocked to learn I’m literate?” spat Nico, but favored him with the shadow of a wink. No shadow around his eyes this time, no gold woven into his hair, but he was more Tigris than he’d been on the soundstage. 

It was, simultaneously, extremely Nico. 

Matt tried, experimentally, to free his wrist and found he couldn’t. He shivered, feeling his pulse jump, knowing Nico could feel it too. “Was that an attempt to dig deeper into the artistic truth of the work, or to mine it for weird, kinky shit?” 

“Yes,” said Nico, bearing him down onto the cushions, beautiful and vengeful and careful not to knock Matt’s laptop off the seat.

-

One of the advantages of shooting a gay film with your boyfriend - one Arose had certainly never intended - was that when Nico turned, grabbed Matt by the lapels, and kissed him on the red carpet, everyone laughed and smiled and Matt knew the gossip mag headlines would be jokes about dedication to the craft and not shock sexuality scandals. His father probably wouldn’t- okay he’d definitely mind but it’d probably be a side note in a meeting about how to capitalize on the film’s success. 

And it was a success; some desperately hot sex aside, reading the story - the real story - had apparently been what Nico had needed to pull it together. All the pride and fear and desperate clawing longing of a tiger caged that had risen like a heat haze from Tigris’s story, and Nico had captured it, had reveled in it, and put it on the screen for all to see. 

Matt straightened his tie and winked to the paps - just a joke between bros, nothing queer here - and resolved to fuck Nico senseless in the restrooms after the premier. Nico laughed and stuck his tongue out. He’d left the white streak in his hair for the red carpet, as stark as the collar of his suit, and Matt had to say, it was growing on him. 

[armageddon-generation]

Making an arc out of series 11 (and other fixes)

I DON’T MEAN TO HATE - I genuinely really liked this TARDIS team, Jodie has completely won me over and the episodes not written by Chibnall were great - but this series does have several frustrating Issues.

One recurring problem I see people having is that the finale didn't feel climactic because there was little build up.

A few ways to fix this :

The Woman Who Fell to Earth

Just improve Tim Shaw - alter his design so he’s not just a black robot-man - take the tooth idea and do something like the Sycorax?

Change the ball of electricity into an actual creature - then establish Tim Shaw’s abusive relationship with it, taking out his viciousness on this helpless slave, because he’s a coward

This mster/beasty relationship would give Tim more character and make him easier to hate

It also establishes the running theme of the Stenza altering/controlling other creatures - it gives them a distinctive ‘gimmick’ like Dalek extermination and Cyberman conversion, which we can expand on in The Ghost Monument, The Tsuranga Conundrum and The Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos

The Ghost Monument

Establish the threat of the Stenza - ravaged worlds better (show us the flesh eating water instead of telling us about it and have more time with the Remnants instead of those boring robots)

Do this by giving Desolation (which is out of orbit) short, irregular days (5 hours, 3 hours) so the threat of the Remnants is always there - build tension and character at day (the “Mum told me to jump” speech) and have scary chase sequences during the two night sections

The Stenza using Desolation to create weapons of mass destruction reminds the Doctor of the Time Lords' tactics in the Time War, (that's why she's so interested in the planet) and establish that Yaz wants to know what happened to the Doctor's people/family

One of the racers should've had their planet stolen, not just enslaved, to establish the mystery of the planets Tim Shaw is stealing

Show their desperation by having the racers actually compete and fight with each other, with Team TARDIS stuck in the middle. Both characters believe they deserve the prize because they've suffered and lost more.

Yaz separates them, directly paralleling her intro scene in episode 1 - from parking disputes to this.

GIVE 13 HER BIG MOMENT because I waited until literally the last line of the series to understand where she's coming from. 13 is the joyous explorer, she doesn't have time for wallowing in angst, there's too much universe out there to see.

Something like: "It's not about what you've lost, that doesn't make you better than him! All that matters now is what's ahead. What are you going to do if you win, where will it take you? Have you even thought about it? Because maybe, just maybe, if you stopped pitying yourself you could make something good from this. Yes, you're family is gone and I'm sorry. But just because they're dead doesn't mean your life should stop too. Move forward."

This helps Chibnall's 'Fresh Start' mandate because it establishes 13 as completely different from RTD and Moffat's Doctors (especially 10 and 12) who felt a sense of superiority because of their past pain. It also ties into Ryan and Graham letting go of Grace.

The TARDIS went to Desolation in the first place because it wanted to help the planet (remember she has personality) - 13 realises this once they reunite.

We've previously established the TARDIS can change the weather, and it's had thousands of years on Desolation to prepare calculations etc, so have a sequence at the end where they show off to the new conpanions and terraform the planet, reversing the Stenza's damage

Post - credits scene / stinger - while the companions explore the TARDIS, show 13 viewing the footage the TARDIS collected over thousands of years of the Stenza violating the planet - she doesn't look happy, but then Yaz calls her for a tour and she puts on the bright smile again.

Yaz

I think Team TARDIS in series 11 was meant to be split between the familial relationship between Ryan and Graham, with the standard swept-off-her-feet almost-romance between the Doctor and Yaz in the background. They didn't focus on Thasmin much because I think Chibnall assumed 'oh, we've seen this before'

SHOW THE GROWTH OF YAZ AND THE DOCTOR'S RELATIONSHIP. IT SHOULDN'T BE ROMANTIC (YET) BUT JUSTIFY THEIR DEVOTION TO EACH OTHER

Because Yaz is a police officer have her 'investigate' the Doctor's past - especially her family, as that's an important part of her character and theme in the series as a whole. Since Chibnall loves Classic they could mention Susan

This makes 13 telling Yaz about her Granny in It Takes You Away an important milestone in their relationship

Yaz to Ryan about the Doctor's family:

Thirteen's character

People complaining Jodie isn't unique enough kind of have a point, but the seeds are there:

I like the idea of 13 being easily distracted and careless ("I'm almost going to miss you." / "Hi Yaz, forgot you were there."). Her being slow to trust contrasts nicely with Jodie's infectious enthusiasm. Have Yaz's role be keeping 13 focused, grounded and on-track when she needs to be.

Also! I've seen the idea thrown around 13 is only acting all bright and chipper. It'd be really interesting if she prioritises Team TARDIS' emotional wellbeing over her own

This way we have parallel arcs - Yaz gets the Doctor to open up as Ryan gets closer to Graham

13 and her Sonic

13 is meant to be a tinkerer, but we don’t see much evidence of this outside building the Sonic

So she wears a tool belt

The belt is TARDIS-like (bigger on the inside) and 13 pulls things out of it like Mary Poppins’ carpet bag

13 pulls bits of scrap out of the belt and cobbles things together when she’s excited / nervous / talking (pipe cleaner helicopters! Catapults! Wind-up mice!)

This distinguishes her from 11, who also did a lot of hand-flapping and is already superficially similar personality-wise

More floofy/fly-away haired 13! It makes her seem more energetic, constantly in motion, which really suits her.

The popular headcanon is that the Sonic works randomly (one episode it can do things, the next it can’t) because over the years the Doctor has added so many features they’ve overloaded it. So now she’s got a new Sonic, 13 is constantly fiddling with it/adding new features

Address the NuWho Doctors’ over-reliance on the Sonic - 13 keeps expecting the Sonic to do things but because it’s new hardware, it can’t, and she has to solve problems on her own

A running gag where 13 goes ‘watch this, gang’ and the Sonic does something completely opposite what she wanted and now they have to improvise

In the finale the Sonic finally works properly and 13 uses it to beat Tim Shaw

Occasionally (in an episode opening) 13 makes weird machines without knowing what the fuck they do:

13: [holding up a small device] Does this look familiar? Do you know what it is? Neither do I. I made it last night in my sleep. Apparently I used Gindrogac. Highly unstable.

Yaz: Doctor…

13 : I put at button on it. Yes. I want to press it, but I’m not sure what will happen if I do.

Ryan: [runs for cover]

13 and Graham

In Series 11, 13 always seemed annoyed by Graham (“Don’t kill the vibe”) and never seemed to grow past it.

Suggest 13 is living vicariously by helping Graham reconnect with Ryan – the Doctor first started travelling in the TARDIS to connect with their grandchild, so this is 13 coming full-circle

13 notices how good and Granddad Graham is trying to be for Ryan, and as he grows braver she comes to really respect him.

Graham becomes her confidant – he’s the only one 13 shows her age to, and she helps Graham begin again: They talk about how the Doctor has had to reinvent and regenerate themselves again and again because the universe needs them – much as Ryan needs Graham. 13 has lots of experience moving past loss, and they support each other through the pressure of being responsible (for Ryan and Yaz respectively)

Ryan

Have the Doctor and Ryan's relationship develop - in The Woman Who Fell to Earth they suggested 13 would take a nurturing parental role for him ("That's the kind of thing Grace would've said") but it's not really built on. All the pieces are there (him being immature and using weapons in the beginning)

Ryan and 13 have a sibling-like relationship - she teaches him about life and the universe - have 13′s use of slang (skillz with a z) come from Ryan having fun teaching slang to a socially inept alien

also maybe a reccuring joke about Ryan going for a fist-bump and 13 patting his fist, that pays off by the finale

Does anyone remember Ryan and Yaz went to Primary school together? Capitalise on that. When Ryan talks about how his Dad left him in Tsuranga and It Takes You Away, make it explicit that she understands because she saw Ryan go through it as a kid, and remembers what it did to him emotionally

A common complaint about Ryan is that he rarely actually does anything - he just stands there and says "they're gone!" or "it's a spaceship!". So have this be part of his character. In the early episodes have Yaz be the most active companion (allowing her to develop!), with Ryan (nervous about his dyspraxia) in the background, and have him become more and more active and competent as the series goes on.

Episode Order

For this to work I suggest shuffling the episodes - 1, 2, 8, 4, 6, 5, 7, 3, 9, 10

10 60-minute episodes to fit the new stuff in and give the large cast more room. The Woman Who Fell to Earth (60 minutes) was Chibnall's best script.

This way series 11 gets the same screen time as the 12 episode Capaldi series

Instead of 2 trailers for the next episode (one pre and one post credits) insert a post-credits stinger hinting at arcy things

The Witchfinders (We’re Going on a Witch-Hunt)

Swap Rosa and The Witchfinders around. We can get the 'female discrimination' thing out of the way faster (it felt weird they didn't explicitly address it until episode 8). Yaz and 13 can bond over their shared oppression (this is the first time the Doctor realises what history is like for her female companions - for the first time, they are of equal status and must work as a team).

Also have Yaz, the POLICE OFFICER, be personally offended by the miscarriage of Justice in the Witch Trials, and defend the victims - relate it to her experience on the job (maybe touch on domestic abuse?) instead of the cliche bullying story

The villains being escaped convicts from a prison also links to Yaz's character and job - contrast her applying police protocol to the Morax (she never had a case this big at home!) with 13's "fuck it, time to wave the glowy science stick' attitude - Yaz forces 13 to be disciplined, 13 forces Yaz to think outside the box and bend the rules

Arachnids in the UK (Spiders in Sheffield)

Still episode 4 - this needs a complete rewrite IMO, but for starters make the Trump parallel less explicit and cringey

Address Yaz has left her job as a police officer behind - she goes into work (with 13 as her ‘consultant’) and learns about people disappearing - we meet the spider expert at the Police Station, (because Yaz’s  neighbour being the only victim AND working in that spider lab was too big a coincidence) 

The expert is being ignored because the disappearances are higher priority, so low-ranking Yaz gets stuck with her

The spiders have spread all over Sheffield, not just the one flat and all around Yaz’s building

Have Ryan, Yaz and the Doctor go to meet Yaz’s mum at the hotel while Graham is mourning Grace in their nearby flat

When the spreading spiders reach Yaz’s family, Graham goes to help them, showing how brave 13 has helped him become.

We now have two tension-filled scenarios:

A home invasion subplot where Graham helps Yaz’s family keep the spiders out of their flat. Use this to flesh out and make her sister and Dad likeable - Graham comforts them when they’re scared, calling back to Grace's last line "promise you won't be scared without me" - 13 has helped him!

13 and Co being chased around the hotel (PROPERLY chased - the spiders use webs to cut off corridors and herd them around like rats in a maze)

YAZ GETS TAKEN BY THE SPIDERS - this is the moment 13 realises how attached she is to her new friends. She and Mrs Kahn work together to go and save Yaz from the Spiders’ nest (eliminating that annoying Jackie Tyler “you’re endangering my kid” trope) while Ryan uses his music to draw the spiders away

13 gets to see Mrs Kahn’s maternal affection and we see her desire for family. Ryan’s music draws the Spiders back and saves Graham and Yaz’s family

When Ryan and Graham reunite it’s very emotional - Ryan saved Graham’s life - ‘looking out for each other’

Finally have the Doctor save the Spiders by using the TARDIS as an Ark, instead of leaving them to die - call back to Planet of the Spiders and drop them off there

Since she's at home, once they’ve saved everyone have Yaz do girly things with the Doctor (because they haven't been able to rest since episode 1) - maybe nail painting? Only 13 starts using the varnish as finger paint. Also! I like the idea of them choosing 13's earring together bc 13 has no clue about jewelry

Demons of the Punjab

This should be episode 5, because it's connected to 4 by Yaz's family and together they provide a nice rounding-off of the half of the series more focused on her

The Thijarians have had their planet stolen, not just destroyed (it would still kill everyone)

That way when we see the hologram of what happened to their planet we establish the threat of what will happen to the Earth if Tim Shaw wins in the finale

(the powder they have can still be the stuff left over afterwards)

Also it's weird that Yaz goes to see her Grandmother, who she discovers remarried, and Ryan doesn't react at all.

Ryan has nothing to do in this episode, and because we're putting Punjab earlier in the series, Grace's loss is fresher. Give him a moral dilemma: He wants to go back and see her when she was young (and with her first husband - implicitly rejecting Graham) like Yaz is seeing her Gran

After seeing what happens to Yaz's family, and seeing Graham's caring reaction to Prem, he follows 13's advice and gives up on seeing Grace again - he's content with Graham

He bonds with Yaz over the episode and warns her not to take family for granted. At the end Yaz takes him to meet her Gran in the present day ("I was lucky enough to know yours")

The Tsuranga Conundrum (The Good Doctors)

Have the medical ship be a war ambulance helping victims of the Stenza's conquest

The general on board has fought the Stenza

Cut her brother and the 2nd nurse, they're unnecessary - have the ship be understaffed because of the strain the Stenza are putting on the medical service, give the engineering role to 13

The asteroid field they have to fly through (which we should ACTUALLY SEE) is not just an asteroid field but the wreckage left behind by another missing planet.

Replace the P'ting. It may be cute but the vast majority of people thought it was ridiculous. Instead have it be a Stenza weapon left over as the ship is flying through an old battleground - it can still be small and destroy the ship from the inside out, but its design can be more threatening and it can be more sympathetic (it was experimented on/created to kill, it isn't evil)

13 tries to pilot the ship first but can't because she's wounded. She has to rely on Team TARDIS and delegate the usual ‘Doctor’ roles. She faces off against the tactical P’ting, trying to fix the ship as fast as it disassembles it, while Yaz runs around trying to catch the thing, and Ryan and Graham take care of the passengers

The sonic STAYS BROKEN so 13 has to do this all by hand

Once 13 is told the Stenza are still out there hurting people, introduce a subplot over the next 3 episodes before the finale where she's sneaking off at night to go and help fight them (without the others knowing, because they're too emotionally biased)

The next episodes (Kerblam!, Rosa) gradually shift the focus onto Ryan's growth as he becomes more active

It Takes You Away

Add 13 and Graham - now close friends - talking about grandkids, and put more emphasis on 13′s reaction to the abandoned girl

This sets up the Solitract turning into Susan, the Doctor’s granddaughter, instead of the frog at the end

You don’t require previous NuWho knowledge to know about Susan - she has barely been mentioned.

Have her be played by the actress from An Adventure in Space and Time, like David Bradley as the First Doctor 

This way we directly address the theme of grandchildren and family

The Solitract is a link to 13's childhood and family. It's also another omnipotent consciousness she can relate to (think 9 and Bad Wolf - "That's what I feel, all the time!"). Finding that and immediately letting it go must be traumatising

Have a quick scene of Yaz catching 13 crying, but she quickly covers up because Graham just saw Grace and he's distraught

Finale (Battle Phantoms)

When they arrive on the battlefield 13 accidentally reveals she's been helping fight the Stenza offscreen (which is how she knows about this battle - one of the ones she was too late for)

This lie infuriates Graham - she's been blocking his revenge for ages

BIG EMOTIONAL MOMENT

13: Maybe I am a liar, and I promised I wouldn't be, but that's because I know what it's like, Graham. To want to hurt the people who hurt you. How that anger burns like fire, like a supernova. And it took me so long to get over it, so long to move on. Whole lifetimes wasted hurting and hating. I didn't want that to happen to you. No one deserves to be broken twice.

This gives Graham a legitimate reason to go against 13 without announcing his intention to kill Tim Shaw like an idiot. It also plays up 13's hypocrisy, which was touched on in the original script

What was the point of 9 distress calls if they're all in the same place?? Use this pportunity to split team TARDIS up and showcase how they've grown as individuals before bringing them back together (Ryan and Graham, Yaz and 13) for the 3rd Act

Graham being on his own drives up the tension over whether he'll kill Tim Shaw - Ryan gets there just in time

Explicitly call back to the moment in The Ghost Monument when Ryan used a gun - highlight how far he's come because of 13, talking Graham down

Get rid of the robots, because they weren't in The Ghost Monument now, and they turned the intimate story into an action movie.

Over the series we've established the Stenza genetically engineer other creatures into weapons (the Remnants, the P'ting, the cable ball in The Woman Who Fell to Earth). Replace the robots with scary leftovers from the Battle of Ranskoor Av Kolos (because that title was irrelevant to the original episode) - Think the Hand Mines from The Magician's Apprentice

Have each of the missing planets throughout the series be named - that way when we discover the stolen planets in the finale there is emotional impact because their being stolen has caused so much suffering.

This way not only are the Stenza a lot more threatening because they are present throughout the series, there is more build up to seeing Tim Shaw again

Also, the subplot about returning the planets is more emotionally impactful - the Doctor is retroactively providing closure to lots of the side characters from the series

Finally the threat to Earth is much greater - the companions have seen what losing your planet does to a person emotionally, and they fear that

WHEN THE EARTH IS THREATENED CALL BACK TO YAZ'S FAMILY SO WE FEEL SOMETHING

Also the continuing thread of missing /lost planets could link to Galifrey, raising 13's emotional stakes

Multiple people have complained the plot thread about the planet attacking you psychically and erasing your memories went nowhere - when 13 and Yaz take those devices off they get slight headaches

Instead have the planet actually attack them - 13 and Yaz have to remind each other of their memories and their families - exposing Yaz to a rare snapshot of the Doctor’s lonely childhood on Galifrey

This gives Jodie the opportunity to do some SERIOUS DRAMATIC ACTING, and finally opening up about Galifrey to the whole TARDIS team at the end gives an emotional climax to her relationship with them, as well as the relationship between Ryan and Graham

The Fam line is cute, but we need ACTION to evidence this growth - this way throughout the series we’ve established how much family means to 13, how much she wants that, and Yaz saying “I’ve always liked fam” means so much because it means she understands 13 as a person

Resolution

Change how the Dalek got split.

Medieval humans killing a Dalek on their own is ridiculous and makes itr less threatening. Instead, have the Dalek be a scout from the Time War, looking to attack Earth to distract the War Doctor. The Doctor, furious, rushes over and helps the human armies divide it, to stop the Time War spreading to his second home.

We’re told this legend by the archaeologists, positioning the Doctor as a vengeful wizard. We can get a flashback with the War Doctor as a dark silhouette on a hill or something.

This makes the “it’s personal” stuff even truer

Use the archaeologists and dig site to expand on the Dalek race’s impact on humanity, because they’ve visited Earth dozens of times. I’m thinking wall paintings depicting the Dalek Shell as a Divine war chariot, and the mutant as a Cthulhu-like God

This way we’re really throwing Team TARDIS in the deep end - they are immediately aware of the number of times the Doctor has fought the Daleks, which is completely different to the rest of series 11, where 13 was encountering everything for the first time

Change the junkyard Dalek shell.

The Scout goes to a storage facility where pieces of its shell are stored. Now this place is owned by the modern incarnation of the cult we’ve set up who worshipped the Dalek in ancient times (their logo is the same symbol found on the wall paintings)

Instead of killing the gay (AGAIN), have the company staff welcome and exult the Dalek - only for it to turn around and kill them all, establishing its racial superiority complex. (This is something Chibnall glossed over - his Dalek wanted to conquer like anyone else, not exterminate)

The company has collected the remains of dozens of different Dalek models from invasions across the show’s history (we still have the parallel to 13 making her Screwdriver)

The Dalek reassembles itself not using Earth metal, but into a Frankenstein’s monster welded together from different Dalek designs (classic 60s, Imperial, Special Weapons, Time War, Supreme, Progenitor)

When the Dalek and 13 face each other this one Scout now represents the entire Dalek race, every type the Doctor has ever fought. The idea of it stitching itself together is also a nice parallel to Regeneration

Destroy the Dalek by separating all the different sections - use Ryan’s dad’s technical skills but don’t have all of Team TARDIS rush the Dalek without getting killed - them pushing it around immediately removed any threat.

Emotional Impact

Seeing the remains of all the Daleks the Doctor has killed at the storage facility and hearing the stories of the War Doctor makes Team TARDIS reconsider 13

Police officer Yaz realises she is devoted to a murderer, and considers whether she wants to get closer to such a person

To make the Dalek more impactful to both Team TARDIS and the new audience that has only watched Series 11, when Graham asks why it’s so dangerous have 13 say something along the lines of “the Daleks are my Stenza”

Graham realises why 13 stopped him killing Tim Shaw in series 11, and (considering his Dad must’ve fought in WW2) gains a new level of respect for her

Don’t have Ryan immediately forgive his Dad and declare that he loves him - set up that he’s willing to give his Dad a second chance as an arc for series 12 - the push and pull between Graham and Ryan reconnecting with his Dad

The Scout is trying to complete its original mission, bringing the Tile War to Earth - 13 has to  literally defend her freinds from the ghost of the War and finally let go of her violent past (personified by the War Doctor). She’s also letting go of the deified, Messiah-like version of herself (represented by the wall paintings of the Doctor’s battle with the Dalek) that RTD and Moffat loved

13’s arc is worrying learning about the Daleks and their toxic relationship will change the way her friends look at her, because she’s been trying to protect them from this side of her life (it’s revealed she’s been deliberately avoiding places she’s been before because she’s looking for a fresh start)

By now Ryan and Graham are getting along fine, they’ve avenged Grace’s murder and Ryan is now talking to his Dad. 13 worries everyone has outgrown her, and they’ll leave

Have a scene at the end where Yaz comforts 13 and assures her she won’t abandon her - 13 doesn’t need to save their lives for them to want to travel with her - it’s their job to save her. They are here because they care about her. 

This way we get a new emotional climax of 13′s emotional arc and reaffirm the status-quo for Series 12

Improving Matt Smith’s era here