I've been slowly collecting these tags all day. Thanks @wolfsong-the-bloody-beast, @redaresss, @jenn2d2, @necromanticsoul, and @serialsforbellara!
Why have I been collecting them all day when I could have just posted this morning? Well, you see, all my current WIPs are still related to fandom events where I can't share the details. But I can share my progress.
And one very important bit of progress I was pushing for today: I finished the first draft of my Sonic the Hedgehog Big Bang fic.
Here, let's show off my event creativity progress via a nifty infographic:
(They're like boss health bars, except they're filling up instead.)
Guys, my StHBB story clocked in at double my initial estimate. Go figure. But the draft is done. I can let it rest like a steak now, wait for some structural feedback from my beta, and work on something else.
Man, I wanna throw something, but not in an angry way. More like a "spike a football because the adrenaline/accomplishment is too much" kind of way.
That feeling. Yeah.
Tags below the cut.
No need to share if you don't want to or don't have anything. :)
This may be my last Zootopia 2 thought for a while but...
...I loved the way the snake (and reptile) houses and architecture functioned!
I'm internally flailing over how that city portion looked -- benches!
And Gray's family house!
Knocker to open the door!
A height chart in the playroom that was HORIZONTAL! 💚💙 I'm dying with the cuteness of imaging snakes measuring how long babies are getting after molts!
I can play Origins and DA2 with mods again! (And they're already/still installed so all I have to do is make sure I have the right dye folder in place for Elissa in origins)
It just came to me last night at like 4 in the morning (idk why it took me so long) why you said "Sigyn should have been in this show," because it's once again LOKI IN CHAINS "beneath"(beyond?) the living realm but instead of punishment it's willing sacrifice and she could have gone with him and "held the bowl" BYE I'M SCREAMING @sigyns-haven MEGAN get IN on this!!!!!
Your stories are amazing and I always look back to a story i commisioned a year and smile! Its so well written and I love it.
Can´t wait untill I can request more of your work in the future.
Excuse me while I just flail around and be happy for a hot minute. Thank you for this, you lovely person! I hope I can offer story commissions very soon (via Ko-fi, once my Etsy stuff has settled down into more of a rhythm).
“New comedy series #Staged, starring #DavidTennant and @MichaelSheen, is coming to @BBCOne in June. Here's a little taster of what you can expect: https://t.co/xmzxmmVHSR https://t.co/hehqJg8OX2”
Secret Santa fic for @lvslie - ahhh, I’ve got part three for you!!
PAIRING: Ten x Rose
RATING: Teen
FIND IT: Ao3 | Teaspoon
ON TUMBLR: Part One * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four * Part Five * ...tbc
(See Part One for full comments)
Chapter 3
Twenty one days, eighteen hours, and fifty minutes earlier:
The Doctor scanned their surroundings. They burst with a multitude of flora, exactingly planned and meticulously tended.
Beside him, Rose breathed, “Blimey.”
He turned back and regarded his ship. She bore the evidence of a difficult landing and stood slightly off-kilter, one corner gouging a track in the grass before digging into the earth below it. She rested inside a circle of manicured hedges (which was good) precisely two feet tall (which was not at all good). She was uncomfortably exposed and he admitted (only to himself, of course) that he might actually need to look into a proper repair for the chameleon circuit.
Something else also tickled his brain, something familiar, but it was elusive and shimmering just out of reach.
At least the horizon bore a resemblance to the Cardiff skyline, though the garden park was certainly different.
It was also unnervingly quiet.
He stepped over the hedgerow and, though she didn’t need help, reached back for Rose, looping his arms around her waist and pulling her completely up and off her feet. She squeaked in surprise and then grinned, throwing her arms around his neck.
Swinging around, he intended to put her down straightaway. He honestly did.
But her breath was warm soft puffs against his ear and she was so, so alive and here and…
Finally, reluctantly uncomfortable, her voice intruded. “Doctor, I can’t – Not that I mind – but I…”
With a start, he realised her trainers were still dangling well off the ground.
“Oh! Oh, right!”
Carefully he lowered her to her feet and unwrapped her from his impromptu embrace as he felt heat suffusing his face, all the way to the tips of his ears. One hand immediately reached for the back of his neck and he tried to look anywhere but at her as he murmured, “Erm, I – sorry.”
She only beamed at him and took his hand, lacing their fingers together.
Never before in his long, long life had he acted like this. He didn’t wonder why.
Instead he inclined his head toward the stone path a few steps away, the one that seemed to lead most directly into the city, and they began to walk.
~~0~~
Twenty one days, eighteen hours, and twenty minutes earlier:
It took them a full half hour to find the edge of the gardens, but it was jarringly clear when they did. They walked through a lush archway and just as he began to wonder if the city was actually populated, the sounds of urban life rushed into him like air into a vacuum. He felt Rose jolt beside him.
They’d reached the end.
“Doctor, that was – ” He nodded before Rose finished the sentence. “– weird.”
“A soundproof barrier,” he noted. This, the telepathic field – too much technology, far too advanced. That earlier sense of something taunted him again, tingling and skimming his subconscious.
The way before them held an ornamental gate that opened into some kind of central plaza. With a deep breath, he opened it and they stepped through.
The area held the usual scattering of shops and markets, but also a large, severe building dominating the far end, one whose dull colours, lack of signs, and sparse windows meant it could only be something official, governmental. He noticed a large gathering of people in front of it also.
But before he could see much more, something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned toward Rose, and she was staring back the way they’d come with an unreadable expression.
She pointed.
A gargantuan sign marked the park’s entryway, proclaiming it “Rose Hill Public Gardens,” despite its lack of either hills or roses (curious, that latter). He could have counted the name as a simple coincidence –
Except that Pete Tyler’s face smiled out at them above the slogan Rewarding Work Therapy for the Sectioned; Respite for the Healthy. Beneath that, it read Funded by Vitex Neurotechnology, a subsidiary of Vitex Health, Inc.
~~0~~
PRESENT:
The Doctor reeled back with a yelp, landing flat on his back. Rose fell away awkwardly and landed curled in a heap at the feet of the man looming over him.
The large man with a hell of a right hook, who reached out and dragged him up with one hand by the front of his shirt. The other hand hovered threateningly, still balled into a fist.
“What the soddin’ hell do you think you’re doing?” the man demanded.
Regaining his wits, the Doctor calculated several possible outcomes before pushing them all aside, glancing at the man’s name tag, and fixing the man with a piercing glare. He was acutely aware of Rose beside him – insensate, hurt, who knew what – and his eyes held all the black of the Oncoming Storm.
“I would suggest, George,” he replied, his calm tone deceptive, a jarring contrast to thunderous eyes, “that you unhand me.”
George blinked, taken aback.
“Now.”
George paused, a millisecond of consideration, then he let go. With a teeth rattling thud, the Doctor’s back hit the cold tile floor. Unfazed, he instinctively reached for Rose, snatching her away just as George lunged forward.
Victorious, the Doctor stood with her nestled securely in his grip.
Oh, she felt so light. Insubstantial, as if the atoms of her existence could lose the will to keep her whole and slip away, disperse and disappear.
Before despair could settle in too far, George grabbed at her again, growling, “You put her down, y’ bloody arse!”
The Doctor spun neatly away from his grip. “I think not,” he retorted. “I’ll be taking her with me.”
George looked genuinely shocked. “She’s my Sec, you idiot. You don’t just pick one you like and haul ‘em away! Are you trying to cost me good money, or are you just stupid?”
“I’m many things, George,” he replied in measured words, “but stupid is not one of them.”
George rolled his eyes. “Moron! You’ve already upset her enough to reset. If you take her outside her assigned zone, the implant will kill her, don’t you know that?”
This time both his hearts faltered for an instant.
Implant.
Words again.
One word. Seven letters.
Seven letters and his blood turned to tiny shards of liquid glass, thick and biting in his veins.
It must be a neural implant. With the potential to kill.
His mouth opened slightly, clicked shut, opened again until he was gaping like a frantic fish.
An off button. A kill switch.
They’d put a grenade in her brain.
His ears roared and his vision narrowed as he stared down at her face and clutched her that much more tightly. His original idea, his half-baked plan to grab her hand and run – it would’ve ended her.
He fought away the sting of tears at the tangle of love and guilt and fear and rage that washed over him in a wave he couldn’t hold back. There was silence as he gathered the pieces of his psyche together and mustered the will to look up again.
George had been silent – or if he’d spoken, the Doctor hadn’t heard. The man’s expression was no longer angry – it was speculative and guarded and he appeared to be gauging the Doctor’s intentions, sizing him up.
Finally George crossed his arms and sniffed, “You know her, then.”
The Doctor regarded Rose again. She’d lost her hat in the scuffle and he could see her fully; she looked like she’d been through hell, her face pale and angular and framed by messy dark hair that didn’t seem to belong to her.
“Yeah,” he answered, voice cracking. “She’s my – ” What could he say? Bloody hell. He swallowed thickly.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for her,” he finally croaked. Oh, you’ve no idea.
A glimmer of empathy stole over George’s face and he seemed to shrink somehow, to soften.
“Oh,” he muttered, understanding. “Aha.” He fumbled a bit. “And – and you weren’t notified?”
The Doctor’s hand jerked as it tried to migrate to the back of his neck without letting go of Rose. “We’re – we – we travel. We aren’t from – ” He cringed, knowing how he must sound. “We aren’t from around here.”
“Ah. Well,” said George. If he was suspicious, it didn’t show. He regarded his shoes for an awkward second before scrubbing his face with both hands. Nodding to himself, he puffed his cheeks and blew out a huge, sighing breath.
“Let’s, um – let’s get her in the back,” he suggested. “She’ll be out for a while.”
The Doctor watched him half-warily as he locked the front door and switched its sign from OPEN to CLOSED. “I sent Annie home after she finished with you. Before all the commotion,” he explained. “Can’t stay open without anyone to mind the store. Besides, we could use the quiet.”
There was little choice but to trust him. Taking care not to jostle the bundle asleep in his arms, the Doctor followed this stranger named George around the counter and into an area marked “employees only.”
~~0~~
The back room was actually rooms, in the plural. George led the Doctor past a cramped business office and into a small alcove. Through a half-open door he caught a glimpse of a Spartan-looking loo. To his surprise he saw there was another door, obscured from view unless they were directly in front of it. It was bolt-locked, and George reached into the pocket of his shirt to retrieve a key dangling from a frayed piece of twine.
Finally the door swung open to reveal what was apparently a living area. It was windowless, with a metal frame bed pushed against the far bare stone wall and an aged, sagging sofa sitting to one side. To the other, a computer sat on a desk strewn with papers and, unexpectedly, numerous devices and bits of electronics as well. A single chair was pushed in against the desk.
George nodded toward the bed and the Doctor lay Rose gingerly down and settled himself next to her.
“I – ” the Doctor began, but before he could say another word the man silenced him with a finger in the air.
He closed and locked the door, then reached into a recessed area next to it in the old brick. He flipped a switch then nodded, satisfied. “It jams the listeners,” he said. “If anyone’s paying attention. Never know. We can talk now.”
Abruptly, the Doctor’s head swam then snapped into place, resolving into a clarity that had been missing outside the Tardis. Startled, he realised that the vague throbbing in his head was gone.
With a gentle pressure, the song of his ship bloomed joyfully inside his mind.
He rocketed off the bed, mind racing, as energised as he was stunned. “George! What is that? What did you just do?”
George took a step back. “I just – the Ministry, they listen in sometimes. Check up on us. I figured you’d at least know that.”
The Doctor nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, but the device you’re using – for a bit of privacy, I’ll wager, yes?” George nodded, bemused.
The Doctor picked up steam and speed as hope surged through him. “Did you make it yourself? This is vital, George, vital. Did you make it?”
George nodded again and gave the Doctor a questioning look.
“Fantastic, George, fantastic, excellent! Molto bene!” he proclaimed.
George couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sudden, confusing enthusiasm.
The Doctor clapped him on the back and continued, “Ah, George. George, George, George. There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy, yadda yadda and all that. You’ve done more than you know with that thing.”
George furrowed his brow. “I have?”
The Doctor’s eyes were shining. “Oh, yes! And now you need to tell me.”
George frowned suddenly. The Doctor plowed forward, blithely undeterred. “Tell me what you did, George.”
“I think – ” he began, gesturing.
The Doctor cut him off and fixed him with an intense, burning stare. “George, I need to know what – ”
Rose’s soft whimper cut through everything and straight into him.
He whirled around just in time to hear another whimper turn to a sharp cry.
He was beside her in two long strides - just as she began to thrash in earnest.
