#oh look Its angsty Torchwood

[bigboysadman]

My sweet Toshiko :(

[sparkly-angell]

Prompts, you says? 🤩 I saw you wrote for torchwood, how about some janto? Maybe post s3, Jack runs into the doctor again (maybe 11? Now that’s a fun dynamic!) and there is some very angry/angsty conversations... Jack talks about how much Ianto meant to him for the first time and Eleven fits Jack into his timeline. Sorry for the long message!! This plot bunny won’t go away

It took me longer than I want to admit to sit down and write this, but once I started, the story seemed to write itself! Thank you for the wait!

🌻  Prompt me | Ko-fi | Commission info | AO3 version 🌻

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

Wales Millennium Centre had a different aspect at night. Maybe because when its huge words shone in the dark sky, it looked like a lighthouse from the sea. A flatter, smaller and golder version.

But if it was a beacon of light, that would make Jack the lost boat.

He sat on the edge of the building, legs dangling out in the air as he watched the black clouds moving fastly over his head and towards the sea. The waves were tame tonight, they usually were this time of the year. A couple of people were walking the plaza, going home from late work shifts, probably. But Cardiff was at peace. 

If the same could be said for him, he sighed.

“Ah! There you are, Jackie boy!” a man said hurriedly behind him, startling Jack to his core. He turned and instantly frowned, as he watched a clumsy englishman climb the building with visible difficulty.

From the bowtie to the bad fitting suit jacket and the messy hair, it was pretty easy to tell who was approaching, but what really gave away was those sad, old eyes, once the man was face to face with him. Jack hadn’t personally met this version of the legend yet, but there’s always a first time. 

“Doctor! Good to see you!” he smiled, finding it harder to maintain the smile than normally. And it was, good to see him, that is. He’d missed the Doctor. Really. Just maybe not today.

“Come, I need your help. There’s a time and space fluctuation happening in the 27th century here at Cardiff and I thought, who best to deal with the rift than the person who’s been dealing over thousands of years? So, really, I thought it would take me half a decade to find you but here you are, at the first place I look for. What a lucky day.” The Doctor’ rambling stopped and he stood behind Jack, looking ready to jump the way he came from, but sticking an arm for him, a silent invitation for this and more adventures.

Jack’s heart fell heavily. In any other day he would have taken the Doctor’s hand and let him fly them away from one planet to another. In any other day he would be making lewd jokes and flirting nonstop with the time lord.

In any other day…

“Can it wait?” he asked, watching a street lamp flickering near the old torchwood entrance.

“Can it wait? Oh my God, you are not serious, are you?!” Jack didn’t need to turn around to see the Doctor throwing his arms up in exasperation. “Pshh, can it wait-- Of course it can’t wait! It’s happening! Right now!”

Jack chuckled. 

“What’s so funny?” he gave up and grumply sat next to Jack.

“It’s funny ‘cause the thing you are so worried about won’t happen for millions of years.” Jack shook his head as a smile grew on his face. “Sometimes I wonder you say something is urgent so you can continue running. You convince people of its urgency and you run, run, run, until you win. But there’s no resting, right? There’s no sitting in the edge of a building, looking down at the waves, admiring how peaceful things are, ‘cause then, ooh no, then you have to think, and thinking… thinking is never an option.”

“Well, someone’s grumpy today.” The Doctor mumbled, kicking his legs in the air childishly.

A heavy silence fell over them, and Jack watched his words being taken away through the wind. A few seagulls flew towards the harbor, beating gently their wings in the air.

“You know, I feel like you are talking more to yourself than to me, Jack.” the Doctor sobered up at a snap of a finger, voice all soft to dampen the truth, and Jack would have been shocked if he hadn’t already met his two previous versions. “Who was it, this time?”

“It’s not a this time situation.” he snapped, fingers curling around the copper edges of the building’s roof. Jack took a long breath. This was no way the Doctor’s fault. “It’s an anniversary.” 

“Oh? What are we celebrating?” he chirped.

“Ianto’s death.” there’s no reason to beat around the bush. Not today anyway.

When the Doctor looked at him with no recognition in his eyes, Jack slumped his shoulders.

“Remember 2010, when you found me drinking alone in a spaceshift bar?”

“I gave you Alonso’s number, yes.” Doctor’s face turned sad all of a sudden. Jack nodded.

“Ianto had just died.” Jack looked at the sky, catching a few glimpses of light from the stars behind the clouds. “I ran away. It’s the first time I’m back since his death. Five years without saying a proper goodbye.

“I don’t think you two ever met,” Jack snorted, now that he was talking, he wouldn’t stop. “he knew almost everything about you, though. I told him. Ianto was our coffee guy, assistant of shorts, well-” Jack smiled, more genuinely this time, remembering Ianto’s antics, “he did hide his cyber girlfriend in our basement once.” he ignored the Doctor’s choking sounds and continued. “But he was good. Too good. Very gentle, too.” The Doctor hummed.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

Jack nodded, trying to work his way around the knot in his throat.

“More than that, Doctor.” his eyes stung. “I love everyone I meet, you know that. I love Rose, I love you, Martha… all my colleagues. I never thought there was more than that. But when I think of Ianto… I see us setting in together, creating a home, growing old. He’s… no, he was the one.”

The Doctor pondered something quietly for a moment before he got up and clapped his hands together, with an air of finality.

“Well, then I believe you should really be coming with me.”

“Doctor… just leave me. Come again tomorrow.” he avoided the Doctor’s hand when it tried to touch his shoulder.

“I might have a way of bringing Ianto back, Jack.”

-

Long story short, the Doctor did end up taking him to the 27th century after all, even if begrudgingly. Jack had forgotten how much he hated his century, but good thing they only had to focus on the rift.

“We just got to connect this cables from the TARDIS core into the Torchwood main frame and voilá!” The Doctor said as he opened the doors to the old Torchwood hub, that still looked exactly like it did last time around, except from the havoc being caused by the rift breaking apart.

Jack helped him set the cables with much difficulty. Every step into what felt like a hurricane was strenuous, his legs ached, burned with every movement, until he got to the mainframe. Connecting the cables were the easy part, which really was a blessing. 

“Doctor,” Jack said over their linked con, “it’s all set, you should be able to work your magic.”

“Wonderful!” Jack hissed at the high pitch the Doctor let out. “Come along. I need you here.”

Jack mentally cursed the Doctor for making him cross the mess the hub was twice, but when he entered the TARDIS all thoughts were forgotten. The Doctor was running around the console in a maddening pace, mumbling a few explanations unders his breath.

“What can I do to help?” Jack caught the Doctor’s attention then.

“Finally!” He sprinted over to him and lead him to sit on the benches. “You sit here,” the time lord said as he hooked a few electrodes on Jack’s forehead, “and just think of Ianto, you hear me? Think of that last time you saw him, the date and time specifically, oh-- and the place.”

Jack nodded, set to get to the task. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, remembering Ianto’s trembling hands over his as a couple of tears fell on his cheeks. Jack’s heart squeezed. He had been trying to forget for the last half a decade, but now all the memories seemed to run free, washing over him ruthlessly.

Every time Ianto smiled, or rolled his eyes. His stupid comebacks and sweet, oh so sweet lips. His cute crumpled face when he opened his eyes first thing in the morning, or how he loved to cuddle, held tight under Jack’s arms. Jack missed his button nose and his stupid soft belly.

He missed being taken care of, being loved, his caresses, his assertion and attention. He loved Ianto and wanted--needed him back.

“Just a few more seconds!” the Doctor screamed somewhere in the middle of the mess, and Jack focused again on that terrible day, feeling Ianto’s silky hair under his palm as he hugged him close, pretending for a few moments he wouldn’t die, that all was going to be alright.

The main console exploded, sparks flying everywhere, but that didn’t stop the Doctor for getting the job done. With one last push on a few buttons, everything went silent. Jack opened his eyes, focusing on the Doctor’s fast breathing as he looked eyes widen to the floor in front of him.

His heart stopped when his eyes drifted downwards and he promptly lifted from his seat, kneeling down in front of the limp body.

“Ianto!” Jack’s hands flew over his chest, clumsy opening his tie and the top buttons from his shirt. No sign of him waking up. “Doctor, Ianto was killed by a poisonous gas those aliens threw at us. I think it’s still in his system.”

The Doctor let out a series of curses under his breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” he ran downstairs and fumbled with a few boxes before he found what he was looking for. In what felt like two steps, he was by Jack’s side, giving him a flask. “Make him smell this. It’s an air purifier, easily finds and kills whatever is making his body shut down.”

Jack nodded and opened the flask over Ianto’s nose. After a few seconds when nothing seemed to happen, Jack pressed the flask closer still.

“Come on, Ianto, wake up.” his voice cracked slightly as his eyes burned. He couldn’t lose Ianto again, not when he had everything to save him. 

A strong hand rested on his shoulder, and Jack stifled a sob. This couldn’t be happening.

“Let’s take him to a guest room, Jack. He needs to rest.” 

“Does it mean he’ll survive?” he looked up hopefully at the Doctor. Normally, he would be the one doing the comforting, but normally he wasn’t desperately trying to revive a lover. No, not any lover, Ianto.

The Doctor hesitated, and Jack’s hope left him like a punch to his guts instantly. The stinging in his eyes morphed into tears which ruined Ianto’s beautiful dark suit. His shoulders shook silently as he rested his head over Ianto’s unmoving chest.

“Wake up, Ianto, please.”

-

When he opened his eyes, Ianto was very aware of his unfamiliar surroundings. He jolted out of bed, instinctively searching for his gun on his waist, not really surprised that his holster was empty. With trained eyes, he scanned the the room for anything that looked threatening, and was confused to find nothing strange.

His suspicious only grew when he tried to open the door, which opened swiftly with no struggle. So maybe he wasn’t in a hostage situation as he first thought. Damn his Torchwood training, always teaching to wait for the worst.

Once outside his room, as he took in the alien-ish designs of the corridors, he realized he might not be on Earth anymore. Ianto gulped and didn’t let that new piece of information get to him, at least not for now.

He heard a set of murmurs coming from his right, and decided the best way to find out where he was, was by finding out who had him, hostage or not. Little by little the corridor morphed from the frigid light tech blue to a warm orange, until he was confronted with a significant console room.

If it could be called a console room. 

He carefully climbed the glass stairs to the main floor, where the alien console laid in the middle, but froze when he saw two people standing with their backs to him behind the alien tech. One of them, the taller, slender one stiffened for only a second, but he knew the man had noticed Ianto approaching.

The other one hadn’t yet. He had his head down, short hair spiking in every direction as he murmured something. He sounded sad, even if Ianto couldn’t catch what he said.

The taller man nodded, flicked his eyes in Ianto’s direction and winked conspirationaly when their eyes met. Ianto froze as he watched him whispering something into the sad man’s years before taking a few steps back. There was something in the sad man that was familiar, Ianto realized, his neck, maybe, the hair too.

Sad man straightened his back, suddenly aware, and recognition flashed in Ianto’s mind.

“Jack!” he shouted, sprinting in his direction just in time to see him turning, wishful expression in face. It quickly morphed into something more heartwarming.

Ianto latched his hands behind Jack’s neck as his lover cupped both his hand on his cheeks, bringing their foreheads together. They swung in place, synching their movements as their breathed in the same air again, in what felt like an eternity.

“I thought you had died.” Jack whispered, voice raw with emotions. Ianto closed his eyes and nodded. 

“I thought so, too.”

He smiled then, by each second that passed he felt more alive, stronger than before. He leaned in and captured Jack’s lips, erasing from their memories the last kiss they shared, when Ianto’s lungs were giving out, and his face too cold and lips too dry.

A few tears got mixed into their kiss, and frankly he couldn’t tell who they were from. They broke apart when the tall man cleaned his throat.

“Very well, hi, Ianto, I’m the Doctor. Nice to meet you.” he stretched out a hand, which Ianto shook, if a little confused. “You are welcome, by the way. I saved you, well, we both did, so you’ve got to thank Jack properly later.” The Doctor smiled through his rambling and Ianto snorted. If Jack hadn’t told him the Doctor was prone to talk a mile per hour he would have been overwhelmed, “Oh, by the way, Jack, Ianto, something I forgot to mention before. Ianto is now a child from the TARDIS, which means, theoretically, his lifespan is indefinite. That’s my present to you, Jack.”

Ianto’s mouth fell open. Was he hearing it right? He was immortal now? He quickly glanced at Jack, afraid the man would find this new discovery horrifying, but the look in his face told a different story.

He had a genuine smile on his lips, and his eyes shone with gratitude, he turned to Ianto and interlaced their fingers. When he spoke, his voice trembled.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

[broken-lycan]

Fic in Review 2018

I was tagged by @arthur-of-the-pendragons ! thanks!!

Total Number of Completed Stories: 33 this year (37 in total)

Total Word Count: 62.701 (71.633 in total)

Fandoms Written In: Merlin, Supernatural, Shadowhunters, Hannibal, Torchwood

Looking back did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expect:

I wrote a bit more than I expected. In the first half of the year, I was surprised that I posted one fic a month without actually wanting to keep that kind of schedule. So I kinda expected to keep going like that. But then I got crazy motivated for Whumptober and wrote 12 fics for that.

What’s your own favourite story of the year?:

that's difficult... maybe Bloody Hands because it was my first Merlin fic. I don't think I managed to write the characters that in-character but still.

Did you take any writing risks this year?:

not really. the kinkiest story I´ve written to date is for a fandom that's very acceptant of kinky stuff (Hannibal).

Do you have any fanfic goals for the New Year?:

I want to write longer stories! The longest so far is I never needed anyone so much (Supernatural) with almost 11k. I think the fic that will actually accomplish that will be the merlin s1ep08 AU or that other Merlin AU which is gonna be quite angsty.

And I want to write more fics with autistic characters. (with the encouragement from @bisexual-merlin and @vickytokio and my own motivation I will!!)

Best story of the year:

hmm... I´m pretty proud of several... so it´s hard to decide. Bloody Hands (Merlin) is great but also It's never too late (Supernatural). idk I cant decide on one.

Most popular story of the year:

Most kudos: Day 2 - Bloody Hands (Merlin) with 144 Kudos

Most hits:  Adrift (Shadowhunters) with 3400 hits

Most comments:  Hanni you´re a dog, deal with it (Hannibal) with 8 comments

Story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

not really a story but literally any of the podfics of other people´s fics that I did. I know podfics generally don't get much recognition/kudos (here´s a collection with all my podfics)

ok so from the fics I wrote.... maybe  I don't know, I don't know, I don't know anymore which is a Supernatural/Shadowhunters crossover with autistic Dean. I mean it has 599 hits and 16 kudos but I feel like it deserves more.

Most fun story to write:

“Day 19 - Exhaustion” I think. or “Day 14 - Torture” (both Supernatural) cause apparently I love writing whump with Dean Winchester. Even more than with Merlin.

Story with the sexiest moment:

either “Please” aka the kinkiest story I´ve written to date. Or “Slow down” (shadowhunters)

Sweetest story: 

either “Oh, you look as beautiful as ever” (Merlin) or the second chapter of “Drowning” (Shadowhunters)

“Holy crap that’s wrong even for you!” story: 

no such thing.

Hardest story to write:

probably And you´re not alone because its autistic Arthur and autistic Merlin so it was quite a challenge to write that well. Writing Arthur is always harder for me (but I think I´m slowly getting there) and I don't write autistic characters nearly often enough.

and kind of “Day 30 - Caregiver” (Supernatural) cause it was the first time I wrote sastiel and I had to figure out how to write Sam.

Biggest disappointment:

don't think there was one. I´m used to it that rare-pair fics or niche crossovers don't get as many kudos.

Biggest surprise:

the (relatively) big number of people who liked “And you´re not alone” from experience with the two autistic fics I´ve written before I was prepared to get like 10 kudos tops. but no! 23!!!

I tag: @fhimechan @krey-9-jorce @madsmeetsmisha  @diemetzgermeisterin @thesorrowoflizards @freebird-boy and anyone else who wants to do this!

[khaelisfics]

Never Twice

Paring: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Rating: Mature Word count: 3800 Tags: Angst, Fluff, Non-Graphic Smut

Read on AO3

I found a prompt on @doctorroseprompts this afternoon and got inspired! The prompt was from a Nonny ask:  Rose and TenToo never thought their first time would be in an abandoned place during a storm. It’s probably much more angsty than it should,but there’s still a happy ending! I’ve never witten TenToo before, so please forgive OOC behaviour!

I hope you’ll like it!

“I think we should stop.”

No answer came. He sighed deeply and nestled his chin deeper into the crook of his palm, staring through the window at the trees reeling behind the frame. The smooth glass was covered with a thick layer of condensation on the inside, streams of water on the outside, but even a blurry landscape of forest and fields was better than to look at her. He could feel her shrug without looking, imagine with acute precision the frown on her face and the dark look she probably threw at him.

The storm that had been brewing for the better part of the afternoon was now hitting the region they were trying to get away from, powerful gusts of wind, menacing sky, pouring rain, streaks of lightning glowing behind the heavy clouds. He knew it wasn’t wise to keep driving under such awful conditions, especially since the night had fallen abruptly half an hour back, even more especially since she was exhausted and had trouble focusing on the road ahead for more than a few seconds at a time. If they hadn’t nastily argued from the moment they had left the facility, maybe he could have knocked some sense into her. If he hadn’t been stupid enough to point out just how flirty that agent had been and how miffed he had been when she had done nothing more than giggle and blush, maybe he could have convinced her they ought to stop before she got the both of them killed.

Jealousy, he had found out, was a feeling inherent to human nature that he had big trouble dealing with now that he was part-human. The anger and the hurt had washed over him, and before he’d known it he was punching the nose of that blond bloke and possessively wrapping an arm around her waist. Thus, the argument. The problem came from the both of them and their lack of communication. Ever since they had kissed on that bloody beach and settled down in the parallel universe, they had barely talked. At first, he had thought it better to give her some time, give her some space, because he knew it mustn't have been easy to leave her Doctor behind, again, and end up with a carbon copy she’d never consider as the real one. She never talked about it, never referred to him as anything else but you and he, as if she refused to say his name, lest it’d make it all worse. And then, after a few days, a few weeks, they had settled in an awkward routine of shallow greetings and half-hearted kisses on the cheek, their only solace the mountain of work that fell on their desks at Torchwood every morning.

He didn’t even think they were together. They shared a flat, and that was about it - they hadn’t dared to refuse her father’s generous offer, but they both knew that had been a mistake. It made everything so much more complicated, and it killed him, day after day, to feel the love he’d always felt for her dwindle down. He was terrified that, soon, his love would die and he’d die along with it.

“Do you want me to drive?”

A snort. Okay, he got that. That had been a stupid offer - if the huge dent in the rear bumper and half the licence plate missing were any clues, he couldn’t actually drive. He had just lost an opportunity to keep his mouth shut. Again.

But then, he heard the regular clicking of a blinker, spotted a sign along the road that pointed towards an inn, and the tyres screeched on the wet asphalt of a path that ran through the trees, deep into the forest. He blew a discreet puff of relief and relaxed a little. Five minutes later, she parked the car in front of something he’d have trouble defining as anything else than a rotten cabin about to collapse. A big red sign was plastered on the door, under renovation, and he stared at it in disbelief as she groaned in annoyance and let her head fall onto the wheel with a dull thump.

“I’ll go check it out,” he sighed, unbuckling his safety belt and grabbed the flashlight from the glove compartment.

He quickly ran to one of the windows quivering under the relentless wind, swept his light into the large room for a few seconds, and went back to the car.

“Seems decent enough,” he almost shouted to cover the noise of the storm. “We could spend the night there. It’s either that or we sleep in the car. I’m not letting you drive any longer, you need to rest.”

“‘Kay, just let me grab my stuff in the trunk,” she accepted, pulling her hood over her head and turning the ignition off.

“I’ll get it, just go inside,” he told her, already going to back of the car to fetch their suitcase and the large plaid she always kept there in case of emergency.

His chucks splashed into the puddles of dirty water as he hurried towards the door, the few seconds he spent under the rain enough to soak his clothes and drench his hair, his carefully modelled spikes falling over his forehead in defeat. He joined her into what must have been a reception hall once, a large wooden counter the only element that pointed to the building’s former activity.

“I’ve seen a couch and a fireplace,” he said, pointing his chin towards the room on the left. “If we’re lucky, I’ll find dry wood somewhere to make a fire, I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Thanks,” she whispered - she tried hard not to let her teeth chatter, she’d hate from him to see she was freezing already.

He simply shrugged and walked into what was left of a living-room, relieved to see it seemed to be resisting the powerful storm - at least, they’d be protected from the wind and the rain, which wouldn’t have been the case if they’d crashed into a ditch. He dropped the suitcase on an old-fashioned carpet than had seen better days and was covered in wood shavings and dust. The large couch was covered with a thick plastic sheet he was quick to take off and roll into a ball he threw away in a corner.

“You should change into dry clothes,” he advised her, handing her the flashlight so she wouldn’t stay in the dark - despite being only half-Time Lord, he still had an eyesight that was way superior to humans and he had far less trouble seeing in heavy obscurity. “I think I can use these to make a fire for the night.”

He crouched down and started to gather the shavings, stacking them into the improvised pouch he made with the hem of his shirt, along with a few pieces of crumpled newspapers that were outdated by a few years - if they needed any more proof that this inn was abandoned for good, there it was. His breath hitched in his throat when he heard her zip the suitcase open, the sound of her metallic belt buckle being loosened, the rumple of clothes as she stepped out of her jeans and took off her grey jumper. He didn’t want to look and do her the offence of watching without her consent, but he couldn’t help it. His eyes flew to her before he could stop them, and his mouth half-parted in awe at the perfectly sculpted body, the taut muscles under the smooth pale skin, the swell of her heaving breasts, the swell of her round bum, the curve of the small of her back, the slender nape of her neck. He realized this was the first time he was seeing her in such a state of undress, and he felt both guilty to watch behind her back and ignore how wrong this was, and sad that he actually had to steal that picture of her, that he’d probably never get to see her beauty in broad daylight, or enjoy it without that lingering disgust tinging his tongue - a disgust he most definitely felt for his own cowardice and all those base and immoral thoughts currently flooding his stupid human brain.

He quickly tore his eyes away from her and went to the fireplace to hide the blush that had swallowed his cheeks and throw his gatherings on the small heap of cold ashes. He reached for his sonic screwdriver in his trousers - the only thing he’d been able to recreate from scratch, though it counted much less functions that the previous one, given that some components hadn’t been invented yet, or simply didn’t exist in this sodden universe. Still, it was enough to spark a chunk of wood ablaze, and within a short minute a bright fire was roaring in the fireplace, projecting its dark shadows over the walls, its heat slowly spreading around the room. Satisfied by his handiwork, he finally allowed himself to change into dry clothes as well, his soaked shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin and  his  too tight trousers discarded by the fire along with his shoes so they’d dry overnight.

He almost expected her to already be fast asleep on the couch, but when he turned on his heels he saw she was curled up in a corner and unsuccessfully trying to wipe her tears before he could see them. His frail human heart free-fell in his chest and he swallowed past the lump of worry that had settled in his throat. They both might have had their resentment and anger, they might not share anything anymore, they might not be the perfect couple everyone thought they were - if they were a couple at all, that was a fact he couldn’t even believe himself any longer. But her tears would always be something that wrenched his heart and struck all the wrong chords in his chest.

“Rose?” he asked softly, padding towards her to sit quietly by her side.

Oh, he doubted she’d want to share, but at least she wouldn’t blame him for not trying. He watched in silence as she rubbed her nose with the back of her sleeve and fiddled with a lose thread of her woollen sock.

“Can I ask you a question?” she sniffed, staring at the tiny hole in her sweatpants without really seeing it.

“You now you can ask me anything, Rose,” he shrugged, daring to clasp his fingers around her own in a gentle hold.

“Can you bring the Doctor back?”

That question, those few words shot daggers through his heart and he bit down on his cheek so hard the copper taste of blood flooded his tongue. He thought he’d already experienced the worst kind of pain when she had started to ignore him, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined. Pain usually came with sorrow, with guilt, with fears. But this was pure, raw, unadulterated hurt. He tried hard not to shove her away and dash out the room, steal her car and drive until he crashed against a lamppost or fell over a precipice. Instead, he drew her into a tight hug and released a shaky breath. It wasn’t like he didn’t know she missed the other him, and he would have gladly sent her back to him if he could - at least one of them would be happy.

“I can’t,” he apologized, brushing his fingers through her blond strands. “I wish I could, but I can’t.”

“Why?” she asked - and he frowned in confusion, because surely she couldn’t have forgotten why it was impossible.

“Because we can’t cross the fabric between the universes,” he still answered. “Because even if it were possible, we wouldn’t have any way of doing it.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

She freed herself from his hold, but instead of shifting away from him like he thought she would, she simply sat cross-legged on his side and splayed her hands over his chest. Her eyes were still full of tears, but what he deciphered in their depth made no sense.

“I know my Doctor is in there somewhere,” she whispered, brushing her knuckles up to his jaw before she cupped his cheek. “I don’t know why he’s hiding. I don’t know what I did to scare him away, but I want him back. Please, tell me what I can do for him to come back. Tell me what I did wrong. Tell me how I can fix this.”

“Rose, you did nothing wrong,” he breathed out, leaning into her touch against his most reasonable instincts. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you won’t talk to me,” she smiled, a sad, heartbreaking smile that made him wince. “You won’t touch me, you won’t kiss me. You won’t love me. Ever since we came back, you’ve been so… Distant. I never felt more abandoned than when you decided to sleep on the couch on our first night together. And then you just… Walked away.”

“I… I just wanted to give you time, Rose,” he said, lowering his eyes to hide the tears he felt pricking in their corners. “Time to forget about him, time to get used to me. I thought you needed it.”

“There’s no him. There’s you. There’s only ever been you. I wish I had made it clearer. But I also wish you trusted me enough to see that.”

He looked into her eyes, and for the first time in almost a year, he saw. He saw her pain when he’d only noticed the anger, he saw her guilt when he’d believed she was secretly enjoying playing with his feelings, her saw her longing for him when he’d been sure she only wanted the one man she could never get, he saw her love when he’d been certain she felt nothing more but hate for him. He couldn’t explain the reasons why he had always been blind to those feelings, why he had ignored them, ignored her and her needs. And then he realized she was right. He had walked away. He had abandoned her and abandoned who he was in the process. But he’d been wrong. She still wanted him. Still needed him, and he still needed her. Still loved her.

A streak of lightning reflected in the depth of her eyes and a low rumble made his heart vibrate in his chest. He still loved her.

“I trust you, Rose,” he whispered, the tears he finally let roll down on his cheeks speaking that truth better than words could. “Of course I trust you. I’ve been an idiot. I should have seen you needed me. I should have seen distancing myself was making it worse. I’m sorry I let you down.”

“I should have loved you more,” she murmured, brushing his tears away with her knuckles. “I should have tried harder. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Doctor.”

And it was when she used his name for the first time in almost a year that he realized everything would be fine. They hadn’t lost each other. Merely lost some time because of stupid doubts and irrational fears. Why they had waited so long to talk about them was beyond him, but it didn’t matter. Nothing else but the heat of her lips under his and the softness of her tongue against his mattered.

The kiss was nothing like their first. He still had this distant memory of her lips crashing against his, of their hands grabbing at clothes, of their arms trying to pull each other closer, as close as they could ever get. This was better. So much better. Each brush of their lips was like an heartfelt apology, each caress of their tongue a quiet reassurance that they were together again, each squeeze of their fingers a silent promise that they wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

They had never gotten the chance to acquaint themselves with that kind of touch. He slowly discovered just how smooth her skin was under his fingertips, how delicate her lips were, how warm her body was pressed against his. She slowly discovered just how soft his hair felt under her fingers, how gentle his nips and kisses were, how solid and comforting his body was pressed against her. He could have drowned in the sounds she made and she could have suffocated in his scent. The heat of the fire dancing over their body almost felt cold against their burning touches, and the simmering need in the pit of their loins steadily turned to boiling desire.

A loud thunder clap made the windows tremble just as they broke their passionate kiss, and he brought one of her hand to rest above his heart, the other still firmly splayed over his cheek.

“Rose,” he whispered, a strained voice the went with his bridled passion. “If we go further… Then please, allow me, now… I want them to be meaningful.”

“Them?” she asked, feeling his quick heartbeat hammering against his ribcage under her palm.

“Yes. I need to say them again.”

She shivered deep down to her bones when he pressed their foreheads together and stared at her, through her, his hot breath caressing her lips, his eyes two pits of raw devotion and affection.

“I love you,” he murmured, letting the words roll on the tip of his tongue like poetic lyrics he was thrilled to remember.

“I love you too, my Doctor,” she smiled before she pressed a kiss on the tip of his nose. “You’re back.”

And those three, very simply word, made them whole again. The Doctor and Rose, just like they were supposed to be. Their lips met again in a searing kiss and their groans fused into a beautiful symphony. Strands of hair were tugged, nails scraped the skin of their necks, hands slipped under their clothes, teeth clacked against each other. The Doctor sowed little nips down the column of her throat and his lips latched on the pulse point of her neck, elated to know she’d wear his mark the morning later. He helped Rose out of her long-sleeved top and gently accompanied her body down on the couch, nudging her knees further apart so he could settle between them. He shed his own tee-shirt, and he growled between his clenched teeth when her nimble fingers tried to caress his chest everywhere at one, brushing against his coarse smattering of hair and teasing his nipples on their way. He had never been one to believe in vengeance, but the way she arched under him made it hard to resist the temptation. He slipped an arm under her back to bring her closer and bowed his head to suck on of her nipples into his mouth, tongue teasing its peak until it wall pulled taut.

This wasn’t exactly the romantic first time Rose could have expected from the Doctor, but at the same it was so them, stuck in a decrepit inn to escape a raging storm, that she couldn’t bring herself to care. The fire shed its deep orange glow over his upper body, dark shadows outlining his lean curves and strong muscles, lighter ones drafting the goosebumps that had risen over his pale skin, underlying his hollowed cheeks and the dip under his pouty lip. He looked handsome, especially with that reflection of a flame etched in the depth of his eyes swallowed by black pupils. Especially with his flattened brown mane brushing against her oversensitized skin and his lips mapping the contours of her breasts. She hadn’t been touched with so much tenderness and so much care for so long, her desire became an urgent need, a crazed longing to draw him closer and made one with his. She wrapped her legs around his midsection, crossed her ankles in the small of his back, and moaned loudly when he willingly bent forward to press his hardness against her heated core.

“Please, Doctor,” she begged through a whimper, rocking her hips against him to try and relieve her aching arousal.

“Rose, I won’t…” the Doctor started, choking on a gasp when she managed to rub herself over his still clothed erection. “I won’t last.”

“Doctor, we have a whole life ahead of us to take it slow,” she pleaded, shoving her sweatpants down along with her knickers herself. “I need you. Give yourself to me.”

He grunted low in his throat and pushed his trousers down as far as they would go without breaking the contact of his lips on her skin, trailing kisses up to her jaw until their mouths met again. Their clothes didn’t allow for broad movements or even a comfortable position, but he had enough freedom to fully sheath himself in her warm, welcoming heat. They groaned in unison at the sudden shared intimacy, both completely surrounded by the other, gulping down short intakes of their mingled breath. They moved together in a synchronous dance that almost felt like a waltz they had practiced over and over again, their hips coming together in a wild staccato rhythm that couldn’t quite follow the rapid pants flowing out of their mouths when they stopped kissing for long enough. Her pent up passion snapped just before his, her wild flutters the last thing he needed to follow in her wake with a shout of her name he muffled in the crook of her neck.

Neither of them heard the howl of the wind shaking the cabin or the low rumble of the dying thunder, neither of them saw the last streak of lightning that flowed the room, neither of them felt the freezing breeze that replaced the heat of the now perished fire. Their breaths were comforting enough, their eyes were too enthralled by what they saw in their depths, the warmth of their still joined bodies kept the cold away. Their love was enough.

When they would get back to their car the morning later, a bright ray of sunlight would be piercing through the fluffy clouds that had chased the dark smog of the night, a flock a birds merrily chirping in the naked trees. The Doctor would offer to drive again, and instead of a snort, Rose would just shake her head with a chuckle. Rose wouldn’t keep her hand firmly locked around her gear shift knob and rub his thigh at any given chance. He wouldn’t look through the window, just stare into the rearview mirror to catch her eyes every few seconds, beaming at her every time he did. They didn’t know why it had taken so long to talk about it, but they knew the same mistake would never be made again.

[skyler10fic]

2016 fic in review

I was tagged by @chocolatequeennk! Thanks, friend! I was hoping we would do something like this again this year. 

total number of completed stories:

59 this year! woot woot

total word count:

123177 published!

fandoms written in:

Doctor Who, Teninch (Broadchurch/Secret Diary crossover, Bella and the Boys/Takin’ Over the Asylum crossover)

looking back, did you expect to write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d expected?

I was hoping to hit 100 fics total by the end of the year, so I didn’t quite do that (96! Only four short.) but I am still proud of what I’ve done because I wrote a wide variety of lengths from drabbles to multichapter (though ficlets are still my specialty) and participated in lots of prompts and writerly things. And that’s not counting my word count for the fandom guide and the unity project.  

what’s your own favorite story of the year?

Oh man, that’s a hard question. Changes is probably the obvious choice and my favorite overall, but I also really loved my Christmas stuff this year and my summer AU, Summer Jobs and Beach Dogs.

did you take any writing risks this year?

Yeah, besides the usual prompts challenging me, I also participated in summer Camp NaNoWriMo and discovered I love writing AUs! I had never written one before Notice Board in May.

do you have any fanfic or profit goals for the new year?

Well, my first goal should hopefully be accomplished soon -- reaching 100 fics. But I also have the goal of finishing my longstanding unpublished WIP and writing a royalty AU that I haven’t started yet. I have quite a few prompts, so hopefully more multichapters to come, which will fulfill my goal of learning to write actual plot. lol 

best story of the year?

Hm. Probably Changes? Or maybe How a Man Becomes a Daddy? Idk, what did you all think was my best of the year? 

most popular story of the year?

Preview, hands down. I sort-of rigged that though (unintentionally!) by having both Nine and Ten and smut. haha Changes wasn’t far behind though. 

story of mine most under-appreciated by the universe, in my opinion:

Well, I’m going to say my baby/kid!fic verse. I know when I see a writer has an OC kid as a main character, I too go “meh, maybe not” but please, give it a chance, because most of it is just using Piper as a way to show sweet moments in Rose and Tentoo’s marriage, so don’t worry, it’s not a next-gen verse or anything like that. It’s mainly about Rose and Tentoo. Just with a very domestic setting (though the first one is an action/Torchwood fic)!  

most fun story to write:

Well, Nancy gave four here so I will too. haha

Summer Jobs and Beach Dogs (expat beach AU) 

Study Date (college smut AU) 

Winter Dream (Christmas proposal fic)

Cake By the Ocean (honeymoon sex on the beach) 

story with the single sexiest moment:

hehe I’m going to say it’s a tie between Steamy (telepathic hot tub sex. Yeah. Just... read it and see. haha) and April 27, 2011: Birthday Treats (birthday food sex). Both are some of the most explicit stuff I’ve written. I still blush a bit when I think about Birthday Treats. lol 

most sweet story:

Aw, wow, not sure I can choose because tooth-rotting fluff is my thing, but I will say writing Christmas Wish Fulfilled was a dream come true. I’ve been wanting to write post-BWB II with Rose just overwhelmed in awe at having him back and the reunited lovers bit. Why should fix-its get all the reunion tears of joy? ;) Essentially, it’s reunion fic feels, but post-JE.

Also the beginning of Baby Body. I love this fic and it’s sequel, though see below. 

”holy crap, thats wrong, even for you!” story:

haha uh... in what way? I have quite a bit of angsty miscarriage fic for a fluff/smut writer. But maybe Sausages, Bananas, and Other Adult-Rated Foods is more what this question is going for (it’s just a series of dirty jokes between Hannah and Bambi about Hardy). 

story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters & most unintentionally telling story:

Um, for the first part, Notice Board really widened my perspective since it was my first AU. Probably most telling is Triggers, because it’s a lot about PTSD/anxiety for Rose.

hardest story to write:

Rose’s speech in Beach Body, because I wanted it to be inspiring and powerful, but I don’t know if it worked. It’s hard to write something intentionally inspiring. haha

Also, I may just be saying this because I got a negative comment on it, but Occupational Hazards had to go through a lot of careful rewrites to make sure I got straight who-knew-what-when. 

biggest disappointment:

Well, maybe All Aboard the USS Honeymoon. I intended it to be emotional hurt/comfort and romantic with them coming closer together after sort-of rushing into romance in Summer Jobs and Beach Dogs. I wanted to add depth and backstory and overcoming their demons together, but I ended up with a good bit of criticism from a commenter and self-doubt of how I handled such a controversial and personally sensitive topic. I’m not going to take it down or anything, but after the success of the first, it’s hard to have a sequel that probably doesn’t really capture what I was going for and is better in my head than typed out. 

biggest surprise:

I never would have seen myself writing Nine, but I did twice this year! Also, I write way more smut than I think I do. haha And I actually really enjoy it when it’s well inspired. Overall, I think I’ve really grown as a writer this year. 

I’m tagging some of my writing buddies–feel free to do or ignore: @lunaseemoony @sequencefairy @goingtothetardis @jeeno2 @gingergallifreyan @faithosaurus-fics @hanluvr @wordsintimeandspace @lizann5869 @caedmonfaith

[broken-lycan]

for the ask thing! C F K N O P T V

Yay! Thanks for asking!!

(I wasn´t sure if you only wanted to ask for Hannibal or generally so I sometimes did more than one)

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will.

In Hannibal anything with Abigail. Some people ship her with Will and/or Hannibal I don´t like that.

And in Supernatural that would be Wincest. It´s beyond me how people can ship them. oh and John Winchester/ Dean Winchester and John Winchester/ Sam Winchester and any combination of those.

F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?

hmm I´ve been in the Hannibal fandom for almost 2 years now. 

I don’t know how long I was in the Sherlock fandom maybe about 2 or 3 years? But I wasnt really active there, only reblogged things and read fanfic. I had this extreme Doctor Who and Torchwood phase at some point but it didn´t last very long, maybe a year.

So I guess its Hannibal with 2 years and counting.

K - What character has your favorite development arc/the best development arc?

From Hannibal it´s definitely Will, I totally agree with you there.

BUT I also like the character arc of Zuko from Avatar the last airbender. Because he went from villain who hunted the main character to important ally and friend who helped the main character defeat the actual villain (his own father). And the best thing it´s completely believable cause his thought process and his moments of doubt, his struggles and the moments where he falls back into his old ways are portrayed really well.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more of in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

I´d love to see more trans (or genderfluid) Will Graham… there´s isnt nearly enough.

that´s all I know right now for Hannibal so I´ll do one thing for Shadowhunters and one for Supernatural.

I want more autistic Alec Lightwood!! there are 18 fics on ao3 and some of those are with a pairing I dont like… and most are angsty. I just want some happy fics.

I love reading fics where Dean is written as trans, like in canon and not some teen or college AU. But sadly there isn´t enough of that either. and not nearly enough that are well written. and lots of them are wincest or strange threesomes that I´m definitely not into but will still read if desperate enough for new content.

O - Choose a song at random. Which ship or character does it remind you of?

Simple Man performed by Jensen Ackles which I associate with Dean.

For Hannibal the first song that came to my mind was The Devil Within by Digital Daggers which is totally hannigram season one. I actually made a moodboard for that once. Looking back on it, I don´t think its that good but well whatever.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

Oh boy… um how about an AU where Hannibal wakes up one day and finds himself in his 11 year old body. And he has to deal with everything like that and he can´t go about murdering anymore cause he´s smol and he can´t bone Will so he rants about his frustration to Bedelia and she decides that like always she´s too sober for his shit.

I actually have about 2k written out for that idea but it got more angsty and less cracky… and I haven´t written anything new in the doc for at least half a year. I have no idea when it will get done.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending? 

Nothing´s coming to my mind for Hannibal…

Supernatural: Dean is bi. You can´t convince me otherwise. And because of his dad he deals with lots of internalised homophobia.

V - Which character do you relate to most?

From Hannibal that would be Will.

from spn Dean and from shadowhunters Alec

from this ask game