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riversofmars · 3 years

Note

Hi there!! I just want to say that I love your writing so much <3 and I have a prompt if you want one? Some hurt/comfort for River/13 where one of them gets hurt during one of their adventures and the other one looks after them ??

Thank you for two brilliant prompts! I haven't done hurt/comfort in a while so this was good! Plus, love the idea of exploring more things that were implied but not actually shows in canon (got another fic brewing for that as well but more on that another time!). Anyway, I decided to do a follow up from Companion Piece and River getting home to Luna University, shortly before heading off to the Library. You don't have to know Companion Piece to follow this though, it's all self-explanatory. Turned out more emotional and angsty than planned but I hope you like it! <3

Rating: G

Word Count: 2700

Read on AO3 or below

Every Second, For Eternity

“There we go…“ River sighed, exhausted. “Last one…“ She closed the door of the type 70 TARDIS she had borrowed. Well, borrowed implied she would return it, she had no intention of doing that. Stolen, maybe? Probably more accurate… but then, was it really stealing if the owner had no use of it anymore? The Clocksmith was dead and the Nine had stolen it himself, so River considered keeping it fair game. Particularly since the Nine had done God knows what to her Vortex Manipulator.

“Home, I think…“ She mumbled into the silence of the control room. The TARDIS was certainly not as responsive as the Doctor’s but she still considered it alive and worth talking to. Particularly since she had no-one else to converse with now. She missed them already, all the Doctor’s lovely friends and companions she had had the brief pleasure of meeting. Being able to put faces to names had been a delight but they all needed returning to their time periods before the timelines took damage.

“Does feel like a bit of a farewell tour, doesn’t it…?“ River slowly worked the controls and launched into the vortex. Perhaps it was the aftereffects of the torture the Nine had put her through, but she thought, for the first time in her life, she could feel her age in her bones.

I feel like I’m almost at the end now… They had been her own words and they hit home. She had gotten a sense of it when she had been in the Matrix and spoken to the Doctor, a Doctor that didn’t even know her… No matter where and when they were in their timeline, no matter which face they wore, she loved them all the same. Another adventure, running with the Doctor, ticked off the list. How many more adventures did she have left in her? She couldn’t be sure. Her body was starting to ache all over as the last traces of adrenaline wore off.

“Now, you don’t go anywhere…“ She told the TARDIS as they landed and slowly made her way to the door. Exhaustion was taking her over. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept… Must have been in that hotel in Stagmore where she’d bolted early upon the Doctor’s arrival and forgot to pay her bill. Mustn’t forget to transfer some money , she thought to herself, hoping she could remember the correct temporal coordinates.

The TARDIS’s door opened to the familiar surroundings of her flat on the Luna University campus. Home at last. Or the closest thing to it, anyway, when your real home was out among the stars, travelling, doing whatever the hell they wanted… One of them was probably just collecting his friend from a space station, or so she hoped. Not everyone had wanted a lift home from the space station the Nine had kept them captive in. Only an insane kleptomaniac would attempt to make a collection of the Doctor’s companions…

“Nice cabinet.“ A voice greeted her and River looked up, surprised, but only for a moment.

“Oh, you know, actually working chameleon circuit…“ River smiled softly as she regarded the woman leaning against a TARDIS of her own. Fortunately, River’s living room was rather large to accommodate the Clocksmith’s TARDIS and that of her spouse.

“Hello, River.“ The Doctor replied, pushing herself off the blue box.

“Hello, Doctor.“ River hummed, delighted but exhausted as well. She tried her best to sound upbeat as she teased: “Did you get yourself a chameleon circuit of your own or has the universe finally answered my prayers?“

“You like it?“ The Doctor grinned, taking a twirl, and River chuckled:

“Like is not the word…“ She winked and was going to saunter towards her but she found herself stumbling. She grabbed onto the couch for support. Her legs were about to give way.

“River, are you okay?“ The Doctor’s face fell when she realised something was wrong. She rushed forward and put her arm around her wife’s waist, steadying her.

“I’ll be fine in a minute…“ River took a deep breath. She didn’t like to show weakness, not even in front of the Doctor, but her body was betraying her. She had underestimated the toll recent events had taken. She had been to Gallifrey, faced off against renegade Time Lords, been drawn into the Matrix, cast out into the Vortex, and all that just to be kidnapped and tortured for information on the Doctor’s friends… it had been quite the adventure… Slowly, she was beginning to realise how much her body ached all over.

“I don’t think so, what happened to you?“ The Doctor sensed that something was very wrong. She pulled her sonic from her pocket and scanned her wife. Her eyes widened in alarm. “Your muscles, your joints, every cell in your body, good God, River, what happened to you?“ She exclaimed and the momentary panic in her voice made River realise the seriousness of her situation. It was as if all the muscles in her body had fallen asleep and were waking up with pins and needles, very very sharp, painful needles.

“The Nine really knows how to take the fun out of torture…“ River winced, she needed to sit down.

“The Nine?“ The Doctor echoed confused and concerned. She helped her around the sofa and to sit down.

“Ah, well, good to know I wiped everyone’s memory properly… and the girls kept my secret.“ River chuckled despite her discomfort. The fact that the Doctor didn’t know about her encounter with the Nine meant she hadn’t endangered the timeline and everything had worked out just fine… apart from the piercing pain she was in.

“The Nine… you mean when he was kidnapping my old companions? You were there too?“ The Doctor realised what she was talking about. These events had been lifetimes ago and she had only been told about them in retrospect.

“Jaime, Bliss, Charly, Ramona… Leela, now, let me tell you, wiping her memory was a challenge I enjoyed…“ River gave a chuckle but ended up wincing. “Returned them all to the right time and place… I take it you picked up Liv and Helen? Were they okay in the end?“

“Yeah I got them, they were fine.“ The Doctor nodded and River smiled:

“That’s alright then…“

“Whatever you were doing, you wore yourself out.“ The Doctor said, brushing her wife’s frizzy hair back.

“You’d be exhausted too if you’d had to get hallucinogenic lipstick on all your companions’ lips… you collect them like strays…“ River smirked, teasingly.

“River!“ The Doctor exclaimed but River shushed her:

“Fine, fine, that wasn’t really a hardship, more likely the Nine’s delightful torture machine has taken more of a toll than I realised…“ She trembled, she could hardly move but tried her best to put on a brave face.

“Oh River…“ The Doctor’s heart broke at the sight of her and she gathered her into her arms.

“I’ll be fine…“ River retorted weakly but she didn’t resist the caring gesture. It felt good to be held, to be close to her.

“You helped save them all…“ The Doctor mumbled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Thank you.“

“Well, I was largely responsible for them being there in the first place… I had to give him some names… just made sure they were the right ones to stage a breakout.“ River explained weakly. She winced as she tried to get more comfortable.

“Very resourceful.“ The Doctor nodded approvingly and River smiled too:

“Yes, they are. Your friends.“ An unbidden sob escaped her throat.

“River…“ the Doctor’s voice was full of concern and she scanned her again. “Let’s get you to bed…“ She suggested and helped her up. She needed rest. There wasn’t much to be done. Her body needed to recover from the trauma, like sore muscles after intense exercise but infinitely worse. The fact that River didn’t protest made her realise just how much pain she was in. Under normal circumstances, she never would allow herself to be told what to do.

The Doctor helped her up and supported her as they slowly made their way into the adjourning bedroom. The Doctor only briefly registered the pictures on her bedside table: Photos of her parents, her adoptive brother, and one of them, together, at the Singing Towers. The Doctor smiled at the memory of happier times as she helped River into bed.

“I’ll be right back.“ She assured her wife and went into the bathroom, only to return with a glass of water and a wet flannel.

“Do you remember it?“ River mumbled as the Doctor kicked off her boots and climbed onto the bed next to her wife. She placed the flannel on her head and pressed the glass to her lips, encouraging her to drink.

“Remember what?“ She asked softly, brushing River’s hair back that was sticking to her brow with sweat.

“What I said in the Matrix.“ River answered before taking a sip of water.

“I didn’t use to remember, too much interference in there… I didn’t remember it for a long time after…“ The Doctor admitted, searching her mind for the memory.

“Funny… so that wasn’t your first meeting with me either…“ River mused as the Doctor placed the glass on the bedside table. “Every time I meet one of your younger selves, I wonder itf that’s it, the first time, for you…“ She carried on to explain, watching her through heavy eyelids.

“You know which ones of my faces you can be honest to…“ The Doctor replied and sat up against the headboard.

“I do… but then, I also know you lie, so…“ River managed a half-smile and rested her head on her wife’s lap.

“I remember it now, looking back, all those times we met but I didn’t know who you were… I remember it now.“ The Doctor smiled, hoping to distract her from the pain she could so clearly see painted on her face.

“In the Matrix, when we exchanged places… it’s a funny old place, isn’t it, the Matrix and the Vortex… makes you see things…“ River hummed thoughtfully, trying to recall the events as best as she could.

“River, you’re exhausted, you need to rest…“ The Doctor tried to soothe her but River felt the need to keep talking, to work this out for herself, before she could think about closing her eyes.

“I could feel it… like I was almost at my destination… I thought that was it, genuinely, that I would die there and if not there, soon…“ She couldn’t quite explain it, how she had known, but she could feel her journey coming to an end.

“You’re safe now.“ The Doctor stroked her hair, hoping he would drop off into sleep and not face more emotional upheaval. She had to focus on getting well.

“I always feel safe with you…“ River smiled and forced her eyes to open properly, to be able to look up at her. “How much time have we got left?“ She asked the most burning question on her mind.

“We’re time travellers River, time is for other people…“ The Doctor replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Doctor…“ River protested weakly.

“How many seconds in eternity?“ The Doctor retorted airily. River was in no condition to be having this conversation.

“Says the immortal…“ River huffed. “I can feel it, Doctor, my time is running out… I saw that there was a fixed point, something I’m heading towards…“ It was an unsettling thought that wouldn't allow her to rest.

“River, you really ought to get some sleep…“ The Doctor instead but she wasn’t having it.

“This isn’t it, is it? The last time?“ River’s voice was distraught and weakening. “I used to think Darillium would be the end…“

“That was one hell of a night…“ The Doctor interrupted softly.

“It really was…“ River smiled at the memory of it. “You won’t leave, will you? If I fall asleep…“ She was struggling to keep her eyes open now but she didn’t want to go to sleep. She didn’t want to wake up alone as she had done so many times.

“Someone’s got to look after you…“ The Doctor smiled, she had no intention of leaving her until she was sure her wife would be okay. “And you’re not gonna die, now, either. As if the Nine could take credit for that. No. I know that for a fact, you have adventures to go on yet.“ She kissed the top of her head again and adjusted the flannel.

“That’s good to know… Mind you, there is this place I’ve been meaning to go…“ River hummed, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Yeah? Where is that?“ The Doctor asked, hoping to help her focus on something positive, something to look forward to.

“Biggest Library in the universe… I’ve had the invitation to an expedition ages ago and kept putting it off…“ River answered softly.

The Doctor remained quiet, she didn’t know what to say. Either response would feel wrong. If she encouraged her, she would be encouraging her to go to her death, she couldn’t do so with a steady voice, with conviction, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. And at the same time, she couldn’t tell her not to go. She would be endangering causality, damage her own timeline, damage her relationship with River, at worst, destroy it, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. So she remained quiet, her hearts weighing her down on the bed as they grew heavy.

“There’ll be stories there, the stories about us…“ River gave a faint smile.

“I dread to think…“ The Doctor huffed, entangling her fingers in her wife’s hair.

“Why?“

“Stories are just that, they’re stories, they’re not…“ The Doctor broke off. Stories couldn’t compare to reality, much like a consciousness in a computer couldn’t compare to the real person…

“We’re all just stories in the end…“ River threw the Doctor’s own words back at her, knowing she wouldn’t be able to argue with herself. And when she didn’t, she carried one: “And we've had some amazing stories…“ She smiled as she closed her eyes. “We’ve come such a long way… Kovarian, the Silence…“

“I’m so sorry about what they did to you…“ The Doctor interjected softly, her hearts aching at the memory of what had been done to her. River’s childhood had been taken from her.

“It’s not your fault.“ River sighed, shaking her head as much as she could while lying down.

“It happened because of me…“ The Doctor insisted.

“And if it hadn’t, I would have never met you.“ River interrupted weakly. “Every part of my story… I’m grateful, for all of it, every last bit, every detour, every adventure… no matter how terrifying, no matter how painful, even all those times you didn't know me…“

“I’m sorry… for the times I didn’t know you.“ The Doctor sighed. She could only imagine how painful it must have been for River to see that lack of recognition and feeling in her eyes.

“So many first times… and still not the right one.“ River mused, tiptoeing the edge of sleep.

“One day… but not too soon.“ The Doctor mumbled.

“Will I see you there?“ River asked softly.

“Where?“ The Doctor frowned and River hummed:

“The Library?“

“Maybe…“ The Doctor answered, trying her best to keep her emotions out of her voice. “If you invite me…“

“As if you could stay away…“ River whispered, slowly drifting out of consciousness.

“Never when you call.“ The Doctor answered, caressing her cheek as River’s breaths grew more even, deep and slow. She looked exhausted and spent but peaceful nonetheless. River Song was formidable, strong and true. Her journey was nearly at an end and it broke the Doctor’s heart as she held her wife. “I love you.“ She spoke into the silence of the flat. No-one, not even the Doctor knew what the future had in store for them. For all she knew, the universe could end tomorrow or it could stretch out for all eternity… whichever it was, the Doctor knew her love for River Song would pass the test of time. Every second, she would hold her love close, every second, for eternity.

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #prompt #river song #thirteen #thirteenth doctor #space wives #femslash #whump #hurt/comfort #general #yowzah #river x thirteen #river x the doctor #companion piece #angst #mild angst

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jazzstarrlight · 3 years

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Hello!! May I ask, Is there any fandoms (like Batim, Undertale, Etc) you join besides THSC?

Also I love your artsyle so much!! Keep following your dreams!!

Thanks! And yeah I'm a fan of all sorts of western and japanese animations!

Sonic was the first one I started drawing.

And Inuyasha was basicly my gateway to anime.

I also enjoy the Harry Potter movies from time to time. (I would read the books, but I have a very frustrating problem when I try to read novels.)

This is my OC Cliara Linzwelle - Griffindor

Then Pokémon (loved playing pearl), and Marvel (mostly spiderman.)

Star Wars is a big one!

Here's my OC's Jazmai (purple eyes), Vykole (green eyes), Wendikin (blue eyes), and the chiss sisters Zelirah (left blue girl) and Amirah (right blue girl).

Maomao. (Still waiting for season 2!)

Steven Universe and My hero adademia (the blondes are my OC twins Aya and Aoi. Quirks: Light manifest. Basicly think green lanterns ring abilities)

Tmnt 2006 and 2012. (My OC Homato Johannes the rat. A big sister to the turtles. Basicly an if the rat that touched homato yoshi was also mutated.)

Legend of Voltron reboot from Netlix (these are my OC's.)

Another netlix show Kipo: and the age of wonderbeasts

And many more that I haven't drawn or hate the way I drew them!

Like...

Gravity Falls, fairy Tail, avatar the last airbender, kung fu panda, miraculous ladybug, the owl house, Dr.Stone, cells at work, carmon sandiego reboot, teen titans (NOT teen titans go), etc...

(All this artwork here is drawn by me.)

Hope you like these. I haven't posted most of these anywhere.

#ask us #jazz starr #my fandoms

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fabulouspotatosister · 4 years

Text

Reset - Part Five: Back to Normal

a/n: Finally, we're here at the end of this fic! It's been super fun getting to revisit this fic and my love for Eleven, and writing this has been super fun too! Thanks so much everyone for enjoying this fic, and I hope you enjoy the final part! Credit to @kisstherainwriting for "Forbidden Orbits", the Doctor's favorite romance novel. Used to be his favorite romance novel. Haha. Again, enjoy!

word count: 4,415

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five: You are here!!]

gif credit: @mcgonagalle

"I promised you a beach trip, didn't I?"

You squint at the metallic panel in front of you as saltwater sprays your face. It's set into the sand, its metal surface pristine and shiny despite all the water that must be covering it on a daily basis.

The Doctor laughs and peers down at the panel. "Welcome to Helnypso! I do hope this place isn't abandoned."

At the sound of his voice, the panel flickers to life with a display that reads Helnypso Resorts: Have a Whole Planet to Yourself.

"Welcome to Helnypso," a tinny voice says. "Identification, please?"

You raise your eyebrows and turn to face the Doctor. "I don't think we ever made a reservation."

"No, we didn't," The Doctor says. He fishes his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper out of his coat - he presses the psychic paper against the panel with one hand while he points the sonic screwdriver with the other. He grins at you with his "oh-I'm-so-impressive" face the whole time. "I think you'll find our credentials are all up to code. The Doctor and his companion."

Companion. You just smile back at him and hope that he doesn't notice your eyes. "That's me!"

There's a slight pause, then a mechanical whirr as the panel processes your information - then the panel speaks again. "Sir, I beg to differ."

The Doctor pauses and frowns. "Excuse me?"

The voice from the panel makes a strangled noise, then something like a cough. "You say she's your companion, but here it says that she's… she's your wife."

A heavy silence falls. All you hear is the sound of the waves crashing against the endless beach and your heartbeat beating loud and steady in your chest. You can't deny the shiver that goes up your spine at the word wife, and you can't tell whether it's a good shiver or a bad one.

And the Doctor - his hair blowing in the breeze, his face a little damp from the spray of the ocean, is as unreadable as ever.

"Well," the Doctor starts, glancing at you, "sorry. That's on me. Yes, she's my wife."

He pockets the psychic paper before you can snatch it out of his hands and ask him about it.

---

"Unpaid bills!" The Doctor laughs as he stumbles into the console room. "I'll admit, that's a first for me."

You cough and run a hand through your hair, shaking the sand out - it falls onto the floor and starts making a small pile at your feet. "Why did you even agree on the Sweethearts Package if we weren't gonna pay for it?"

The Doctor straightens and pats the front of his coat. Grains of sand flutter to the floor. "I can never resist a good discount."

You shake your head and sigh, but you're smiling. "We can't go back there again."

"Yes, they'd arrest us and I hear the death penalty is very popular in that system." The Doctor grimaces, claps his hands together, and bounds towards the console, already fiddling with the countless levers and buttons. His smile widens as the TARDIS sets off, the ship shaking slightly as it takes off of the planet. "Ah, it doesn't matter. There are better hotel planets. We could try Henestea, or Alreneth - absolutely beautiful places - Henestea has treehouses, love a good treehouse -"

Are we going back to normal now?

You find the answer to that question watching the Doctor ramble on about different resort planets - to him, it seems to be a resounding yes. His voice fades into the background and you feel something looming above you, something heavy and crushing that you're not sure you can deal with right now. Not when the Doctor looks so happy.

It's been non-stop since you escaped the Director - Helnypso was just the third stop in what you felt like was a long list of distractions. Time is arbitrary on a time machine, but you know it's been a while since then - a long while of running away. When the Doctor looks up at you, you plaster a smile on your face.

"Uh, Doctor, I was thinking -" You clasp your hands together, resting them right where your traitorous heart is, and you smile because if you're smiling, he's not going to notice anything wrong. "You could pick where to go this time."

"Well, you're a bundle of joy." He pouts. "It never turns out well when I pick."

"Yeah - I don't think it matters, though," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "You know, something always happens, and all that."

The Doctor sighs, and nods his head towards a set of switches - you reach over and flick them up in rapid succession. The TARDIS stops shaking and stabilizes, probably drifting in space. "I suppose there is.”

Whatever was hanging above has fallen - a heavy blanket of tension, a tension you haven't talked about properly for days since you escaped. The TARDIS has never felt so cold - or is it just you? The Doctor looks just fine. But you can never really tell with the Doctor.

"I'll, uh -" Your voice cuts through the silence. "Get all this sand out, and then - maybe get some rest, while you decide."

It comes through more like a question. The Doctor nods, and the light of the TARDIS shifts, suddenly a little bit darker. He moves to a different spot on the console, turning away from you. "Right. You humans and your sleep. Go ahead."

The first step away from him feels like denial. The second step sparks a bit of anger in your heart, but by the third step you've pointed the anger away from him and right at yourself.

"Okay," you manage, your voice small, and you think you see him take a deep breath in, and hold it. "I'll be back."

Not soon, you think as you walk out of the console room. You don't look back. You don't see that the Doctor does.

You're still angry, practically fuming, by the time you've carried yourself into the TARDIS hallways. The lines between anger, guilt, and embarrassment have all blurred and are now mixing in you like the world's messiest cocktail - what were you thinking, believing that one strange adventure would change anything between you?

It isn't until the fifth minute of walking that you realize you haven't found a door yet. The TARDIS hallways are massive and endless, always leading to different places, never predictable. It made going from one room to another fun, usually - but you had been walking for five minutes, doing nothing but wallowing in your own feelings.

"Look, I just want to sleep, okay?" you call out. The TARDIS had a mind of her own, and she could be quite snappy if she wanted to. "Can you please put my room a little bit closer?"

Your voice echoes throughout the hallway - the only response you get is the faint humming of the TARDIS. You sigh and squeeze your eyes shut.

"What, are you mad at me?" You walk a little bit further, wrapping your arms around yourself. The TARDIS still feels cold, and you're still in clothes ready for a beach planet. "Look, I haven't upset the Doctor, if that's what you're worried about."

Or had you? Again, you could never really tell with the Doctor - sure, he had his moments, moments of happiness, anger, and sadness, but within the confines of the TARDIS you rarely saw those things at all. He was always somewhere else, fiddling with the console, keeping himself busy.

Maybe you had upset him and he just wasn't saying anything about it. But the Doctor would let you know if he was cross with you, he always had. If he really was upset, what made this time any different from the others?

You groan inwardly.

Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice that the hallway has shortened in front of you. You stop and look up - in front of you is a set of big wooden doors. They look worn with age and behind them you can hear the sound of a fireplace crackling.

"Where have you led me now?" you ask. The TARDIS still doesn't respond, but you feel a little better - curiosity is a better feeling than anger. You press your hands against the wood and trace its surface.

You're not prepared for what you see when you gently push open the doors. You see books, shelves and shelves of books that seem to go on for miles. Tables piled high with books and papers, some empty and some full of scribbles written in alphabets that you don't recognize. Your gaze keeps travelling upwards, and the bookshelves just keep on going higher, staircases and ladders spiraling higher and higher into the air.

So this was it then - the legendary TARDIS library. A whoosh of breath escapes you. You'd only heard of it in passing, and now that you were finally here it felt like stepping into the TARDIS for the first time. I hope you're not too jealous about that, you think, hoping the TARDIS can hear you.

The room's warm, and it smells amazing. You wander through the room, tracing the spines of books and marveling at just how many there are - the books are in different shapes and sizes, some of them thicker than three pillows stacked together and some of them as thin as a single sheet of paper.

The lights get dimmer and dimmer as you continue to walk. You feel like you're being drawn to something - when you stop at a random shelf to look at the titles something tells you to keep walking, and so you do.

The shelves open up into what can only be described as a "reading spot". There are a few desks strewn around, but at the front of the space is a crackling fireplace, surrounded by several comfy-looking chairs.

The whole place feels closed off, separate from the rest of the library. You walk up to the bookshelves, finding them covered in a thin layer of dust. Whatever this part of the library is, the Doctor hasn't been here in years. Your curiosity only builds, and you pick out a random book.

One glance at the cover is enough to make you snort. It's one of those cringey romance novels, with the shirtless buff men and fainting ladies painted on the covers. "Forbidden Orbits", it reads on the front, in the same gilded font that these kinds of novels always seem to use.

The book opens with much resistance - it hasn't been opened in a while, and its pages are yellowed, and you can spot dog-ear folds every few pages. You raise your eyebrows, though, by the end of the book - its last page is still there, miraculously intact.

It dates the book to a time before the Doctor ripped out the final pages of books, and as far as you knew, he had always been doing that. The Doctor didn't seem like the type to read fluffy romance novels, but perhaps another Doctor had been.

You skim through the rest of the books close to it and they all seem to be in the same category. You stifle another laugh with your hand.

You carry the book with you and settle yourself into one of the comfy chairs. It almost swallows you - you sink right into the plush thing, and you choke out a laugh. But you're comfortable, so you flip the book back to its very first page and start reading.

You don't mean to start falling asleep. You really don't. But the warmth of the fireplace, the faint hum of the TARDIS, and how incredibly comfy this chair combined is enough to make your eyelids grow heavy. You slip into a dreamless sleep, "Forbidden Orbits" still open in your lap.

---

The TARDIS puts the library a little closer for the Doctor.

He's not good at waiting. He's never been good at waiting. In fact, if there was a list of things he wasn't good at, waiting would be at the very top. And when he waits, the Doctor notices things. So the Doctor notices that you've been gone for a little too long, and he starts to worry.

Now that, he's good at. Worrying about you, especially. He practically runs out of the console room and the first door he sees are the doors of the TARDIS library. The doors open for him without even a creak, and when the Doctor steps in he notices a little sound.

He follows the sound, and when the lights start to get dimmer and the ceiling starts to get lower he starts to worry again, but for an entirely different reason. He's told the TARDIS to put that old wing of the library far away - old shame, he calls it, stuff that he'd never admit he enjoyed at the time - and if you've found it, he's in for a full day of teasing that he can't handle.

He peeks from behind a shelf and a weight lifts off his hearts - the sound is just the sound of your soft breaths, and you're fast asleep.

The Doctor's never walked this quietly before. He walks up to your sleeping form, sprawled out on a chair, and he feels an unexplainable fondness fill his hearts. He reaches out, gingerly, and brushes your hair away from your face. His hand catches on your temple, where you've haphazardly placed a bandage over the wound left by the simulation, and he frowns. Did he never get a good look at that?

The Doctor's gaze travels down, to your lap, and his face burns. "Forbidden Orbits" lays open in your lap, on the twentieth page. He snatches it up and throws it back into the bookshelf, where it belongs.

---

"Hey..."

You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, clumsy fingers grabbing at whatever's trying to disturb your precious sleep. The crackling of the fireplace has died down, and you shift in your seat. Your brain is protesting, but your mouth hasn't quite caught up yet, so all you can do is mumble disjointedly and hope that your message is clear: "Please don't wake me up yet."

You were having such a nice dream too - the events of the dream are hazy now, and when you try to grab at them they blow away into nothingness. But the dream's left a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart.

You hear an amused huff, and feel a hand cup your cheek. You melt into the touch, a satisfied noise finding its way out of your mouth, and you smile. "Good dreams?"

You hum in reply. There's another amused huff, and a thumb starts to gently rub your cheek. "You need to wake up now, I've got to take a look at you."

"Don't wanna," you mumble, still trying to hold on to that warm and fuzzy feeling. You're still so comfortable, nestled in the soft fabric of your chair, and you really never want to leave. "Comfy. Tired."

"I know." The hand on your cheek disappears, and the skin of your face feels cold. "That's my fault, a little bit. But come on, I gotta move you. It's easier if you're awake."

You open your eyes and peek up through your eyelashes - your vision clears, and you see the Doctor kneeling in front of you.

He smiles at you, gently, and it's brilliant. He looks a little flustered, his hair messy like he's been running his hands through it, but he's never looked better. You smile dopily at him, still a little bit sleep-addled, and he laughs softly. "Hey, sleepyhead," he says, and all you can think is that you could never get tired of looking at him.

"Hey," you mumble, pushing yourself upright with your elbows. "Sorry. It's just so comfy here, I just drifted off..."

"I don't blame you." The Doctor looks around, his smile growing wider. "It's a wonderful place to take a nap in."

Your hands fall into your lap, and it's - empty… You raise an eyebrow. "Hang on, where's the book I was reading...? What was the title again? Forbidden -"

You look up at the Doctor and he sputters, flushing a bright red. He hushes you before you can get the whole title out, raising his hands to cover your mouth - you catch his hands in yours, laughing.

"You weren't meant to see that," he stutters, "or this entire wing. I thought I told the TARDIS to seal this up - did she put you up to this? Maybe I can find a way to jettison this entire area off the ship -"

"It's fine," you say, still laughing. The Doctor doesn't look calmed by that, his eyes still wide and frantic. It's fun seeing the Doctor all ruffled. "Your secret is safe with me."

"And it should stay that way," the Doctor huffs. He pries his hands out of yours, sticking them in his coat. Then, a little louder, "Anyway, I said I was going to take a look at you, so here I am."

"Why?"

The Doctor raises his eyebrows and nods at you, pulling out a bottle of liquid and a patch of cloth. "Your temple's still hurt."

Your reach up and touch the plaster - you'd thrown it on just before the Doctor dragged you to Helnypso - and you wince.

"Trust me," the Doctor says, uncapping the bottle and pouring it onto the cloth, "I'm a doctor."

"Thought you were the Doctor," you say, and the Doctor laughs.

"I am!" He puts the cap back on the bottle and stuffs it back into his coat. His coat has to be bigger on the inside too. "I've got the title, I should put it to good use. I'll take off the plaster now, alright?"

It doesn't feel right under there, and dread settles into the bottom of your stomach at the thought of taking it off. The Doctor reaches over and pats your knee, giving you another patient smile.

"You'll be fine," he says, "won't hurt a bit."

Carefully, he reaches over and peels the plaster off - it stings, but not enough to really hurt. When the whole thing comes off, the Doctor makes a face at it and sets it to the side, hopefully to be thrown away later.

"Right, turn your face to the side for me, please?"

You follow, and the Doctor reaches out with the wet cloth. It smells a lot like alcohol, and alcohol on a wound means a lot of pain - you shrink back a little. "What is it?"

"Oh, this?" The Doctor pulls back and brings the cloth to his nose, cringing at the smell. "Just a disinfectant. It should clean your wound up nicely, get rid of anything that might be hiding in there. Don't worry."

You try not to worry as the Doctor reaches out again and presses the cloth onto your temple. It feels like ice against your skin, but there isn't any pain. You let yourself relax, your shoulders dropping, and you let out the breath you didn't know you were holding.

"Did I mention it's got nanobots in it?" the Doctor says nonchalantly, still pressing the cloth against your temple. As he says that, your wound starts to tingle, like little sparks of static electricity. "Little robots stitching your skin up for you. Like a mini-construction team, except for your body. I got it as a gift from some interstellar nurses, I never did give them anything back..."

The Doctor peels the cloth off of your temple and sticks his hand in his coat again, this time pulling out a thin bandage. He presses it against your skin, and you feel it harden and grow taut, almost pulling at your skin.

"And an Instant Bandage. From the same nurses, too. Revolutionary, the lot of them." The Doctor leans away, clapping his hands together. He's got his "oh-I'm-so-impressive" face on again, and you have to admit - you are impressed. "Well?"

"Well," you echo. You can't really find any words, and the Doctor takes it as a compliment. "Thanks."

"Oh, it's nothing." The Doctor smooths the bandage out. His hand lingers on your skin for just a second before he pulls away, dropping his hands to his sides. "I'm just looking out for you."

"Still - thank you," you say, and you don't miss the way the Doctor's eyes crinkle in a tiny smile. "Really."

"Yeah," the Doctor says quietly, and you settle into another silence, this one more comfortable than the last. There's still a tension in the air, but it isn't so thick anymore, driven away by the coziness of the fireplace. You can feel the Doctor's eyes on you, even when you glance away.

The Doctor's voice breaks the silence, soft but sudden. "You're very loud."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The Doctor startles, his eyes widening. "Sorry, sorry - it's just -" he stammers, blinking quickly, "-your thoughts, they're very loud sometimes."

You can't stop the flicker of panic that jump-starts your heart into overdrive. "You - could hear what I was thinking?"

"I swear, I didn't mean to!" the Doctor says quickly, holding up his hands, "I promised I wasn't going to go looking where I wasn't supposed to. I did. And for that I am so sorry."

Curiosity overwhelms your fear for a second - "What did you hear?" you ask, before you can stop yourself.

The Doctor stares at you, big green eyes still wide with apprehension. His mouth sets into a hard line. "Something about going back to normal," he says, his voice low.

I didn't even know I was still thinking about that. You frown, your chest growing heavy with the weight of - what is it? Guilt? Sadness? Embarrassment? All three? Your heart's still a mess, and the Doctor's stuck himself in there and mixed everything up.

"Yeah," you say, pursing your lips in an awkward smile. "I was thinking about that. It's nothing."

"It can't be nothing," The Doctor insists. He's closer to you now, resting his hands on the arms of the chair. "I -" His voice breaks off, and he looks up, almost frustrated. "I care about you, and so whatever you're feeling can't be nothing."

Now, the caring bit isn't a surprise. The Doctor has always cared for you, even when it had only been hours since you'd met. What's surprising is the conviction in his voice, the way he says it like a promise, and how much it sounds like -

The Doctor raises his hand to brush his thumb against your temple, his touch trailing down until his hand cups your cheek. "All of that," he says, "everything that happened. I could take it away, and we'd be back to normal. If that's what you want."

A reset. "No," you blurt out, meeting the Doctor's eyes. "No, that's not what I want."

"What do you want, then?" the Doctor asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Behind him, the fireplace roars, and so does something in your heart. "Don't you know?"

Something flickers across the Doctor's face - a shadow, an emotion you can't catch. “Don’t lie.”

“I'm not lying," you say. You stare at him, lifting your own hands to wrap around his wrist. "And if I was, you'd know."

You're trembling as your fingers curl around his wrist, your heart beating at a million miles per hour, loud enough to have it thumping in your ears. Slowly, you drag the Doctor's hand down until it reaches your mouth, and then - an echo - you squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips to the inside of his palm.

"I meant what I said," you whisper against his skin, "on the ship. I wasn't lying."

"You weren't," the Doctor says. His voice shakes a little.

You open your eyes to look at him, and you counter his watery gaze with your own. The Doctor blinks, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp only to wipe away a tear. "Don't cry," he says.

"M'not crying," you sniffle, managing a smile. "Sorry."

"No, none of that," the Doctor chides. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead - then, lower, pressing a kiss to your cheek, right underneath your eye, like trying to wipe away tears. The Doctor's lips brush against the corner of your mouth and you shudder.

"None of that," he says again, his breath warm against your face. He peers at you, raising his eyebrows in a silent question.

You nod slowly - you've never been so sure about anything in your life, not since the day you decided to run away and join the Doctor among the stars - and the Doctor leans in and captures your lips with his.

It feels real and is real this time, and you savor every second of it. The Doctor cups his face in your hands as he kisses you, drawing you even closer to him, and drowning is nothing compared to this, you think. He breaks the kiss for a second, making a wordless noise of satisfaction, and when he kisses you again you can feel him smiling.

You're both breathless when you pull away. The Doctor's grinning widely, still holding your face in his hands.

"My hearts," he murmurs, "both of them yours."

"Well, my one heart pales in comparison to your two, doesn't it?" you ask, and the Doctor laughs again. "Don't worry. It's still yours."

The Doctor hums in reply. Then, softly, like a promise: "I love you."

You feel your heart swell, and when you breathe out you feel like a weight's been lifted from your shoulders. This, this is what you wanted all along - you let a smile spread across your face. It isn't a dream anymore, or an act. "I love you too. But you know that, don't you?"

He laughs and presses his forehead against yours. "Can I kiss you again?"

You wrap your hands around his suspenders and tug him closer – you never have to pretend again. "You never have to ask."

“You know, I do think Mrs. Doctor does have a nice ring to it.”

“Doctor!”

Taglist: @starlingelliot, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @littlemissslytherinprincess, @just-a-nat

#jess writes #doctor who #doctor who x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #eleventh doctor #11th doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction #it's finally over! what a ride its been

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shipadeeyah · 2 years

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Oof I haven't drawn sonic in ages. Just wanted to do some art of Sonic referencing the pose off of the Sonic Rush box art. The soundtrack from Sonic Rush is freaking amazing especially for it being on the DS and each level was so fun and repayable!!! I'm ashamed to say that even after many attempts throughout my life that I am still stuck on the giant robot near the end ;m; . I tried playing Sonic Rush 2 and I really didn't enjoy having to find and travel to the islands so I stopped playing that after like stage 2. I absolutely adore early 2000's Sonic as Sonic rush, Sonic X and reruns of Sonic Underground were a huge part of my childhood. My favourite characters were Amy and Shadow <3 . Don't talk to me about Sonic's current state, it hurts to think about that. I'll at least always have awesome memories from the adventures that the game and shows gave younger me. ( ^ w ^ )

#sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic art #sonic fanart #digital art #illustration #sonic rush #fan art #fanart #anime #drawing #my art #sonic oc

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petal-dancer28 · 3 years

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" Have no fear, Amy Rose is here!" I haven't drawn her in ages! I need to pull out and play Sonic Adventure DX and Sonic Adventure 2 battle on Gamecube again!

#sonic fandom #amy rose #sonic adventure #sonic adventure 2 #sonic adventure 2 battle #Gamecube #nintendo gamecube #digital art #photoshop #flat colors

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seagull-scribbles · 2 years

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@rose12sworld sorry this took so long :)

I Normally won’t change Metals facial structure but Widening their eyes seemed like the best choice here….. may have to experiment with him some more x

I sent your comment in as an ask from my main so it would be the same format as the others, idk if you’ll get the notification though

[Ask meme here]

#sth #request #ask meme #ask #metal sonic #rose12sworld #magicalpouchofmagic #I know I did Neo metal and I said I wouldn’t do the same character twice #but he is technically different so it’s fine #loop holes for my own rules lmao #I haven’t drawn metal in ages this was super nice actually x #still on my art hiatus but I did this on the way to work #figured drawing a character I’m familiar with would be a good start for building up confidence again x

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shiowase · 3 years

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✨REQUESTS ARE OPEN!✨

I just had my plans to move to Japan derailed for the second time this year, so I wanna draw stuff to distract myself! So if like me, you are stuck in isolation and are bored, send me something, maybe you’ll get it drawn! It could be anything, an OC, the best boy from that anime, Sonic and Wario on a date -heck, the possibilities are endless! So if you feel like it, send a request and let’s spread some happiness in these scary times!

(Also, I know I haven’t been on here for art in ages, so here is a reminder of what my art even looks like if you have forgotten who the hell I am. OR click here https://shiowase.tumblr.com/tagged/my-art)

Stay safe cool cats and thanks!

#requests #art #characters #digital art #drawing #illustration #fanart #my art

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writersrealmbts · 4 years

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Con Amore: Part 13

Bulletproof Melody Sequel

Description: Con Amore– A directive to a musician to perform a selected passage of a composition tenderly, with affectionate emotion, or in a loving manner; an instruction to the player of an instrument meaning ‘with love’ or ‘lovingly’. Three years with all seven of your loves, three years of relative peace. But now everything is threatened as darkness surges from the horizon.

Originally Posted: 04/03/2020

Tags: Superheroes, Ot7

Fluff/Angst: 2,470 words

A/N: One month until my birthday! I’m trying to finish this series. any guesses on the gender of the baby?

Previous Part.

That was as far as you’d gotten, the words seizing in your mouth as you tried to think of how to explain it all and Namjoon’s power wore off.

You were sitting partially against the wall and partially in Hoseok’s lap, trying to think of how to explain it all to them.

They were all gathered around you with pillows and blankets, cozy next to the fireplace you hummed into existence.

Hoseok was braiding lavender into your hair, and Jimin was singing softly as all of you relaxed from the stress of the ‘mission’.

Taehyung was sprawled across the floor and Yoongi, muttering about missing Yeontan.

Jungkook was curled in Seokjin’s lap, wrapped in his arms.

Namjoon was sitting against the wall beside you and Hoseok, waiting for you to be ready to talk.

“I went to the conservatory after my parents…well, after my mother was killed. I needed a distraction, a way to move forward. The conservatory offered training in hand-to-hand and other skills that I saw as useful. I’d only ever been trained in artifact retrieval and care, and self-defense. I thought learning something would help distract me. Everything was fine until about a week after I’d arrived. Every time I tried to just…go outside, to even just go to the gardens, I couldn’t. I asked the dean if I could and he said no. He wouldn’t give me a reason why, and he made it clear I wasn’t allowed to ask anymore.”

“So you went searching,” Yoongi said, smirking.

You nodded, looking to Jin. “You can imagine the secrets I found.”

“The testing,” He whispered, his grip on Jungkook getting taut and causing the younger to glance up at him in worry.

“Among other things. They were testing ways of stealing the students powers, brainwashing, hypnosis…bionic replacements.”

Taehyung sat up, looking worried. “Like Heuning’s wings?”

You nodded. “The man who did that was driven out when they realized it was hurting them, but he wasn’t stopped for quite some time after.” You fidgeted with Hoseok’s hand.

His other hand rested on your stomach, warm and comforting.

“But that didn’t stop the other testing. Or the abuse of the students. Manipulation and hypnosis, brainwashing them into their little soldiers. Maybe if I hadn’t been hiding who I was, I might not have had the backbone to resist their testing, but I was stronger than they knew. The students were prisoners. Test subjects. And they still are.” You let your gaze drop to the floor, thinking about the things you had to listen to, avoid, and endure. “If I hadn’t been able to sneak away to even just my little living-space pocket, I might have gone insane. I would also have been in trouble if I hadn’t been able to keep up with my hair dye. I was using a constant melody to keep my visage hazy, but a change in hair color would have been too noticeable. But getting away was difficult. I actually had to go to restricted areas just to find enough privacy.”

“You two weren’t there at the same time?” Yoongi asked, looking between yourself and Jin, holding hands with Taehyung.

Jin waffled a bit. “There was a little bit of overlap. About three months, actually, but we were always in different places. Or if we were in the same place, neither of us took notice of it. I was trying to escape already, after having exposed the man that did the bionic replacements. He called himself Daedalus. His test subjects had their memories wiped, and most were kept at the school, giving them new identities. After that the youngest kids disappeared before I could rescue them. I’m assuming that was you?” He rested his cheek on Jungkook’s head.

You nodded. “Yeah. After they were brainwashed. I had their files from the lab and I put them in a time-frozen room until I escaped. I met Nadya on my way out. They had been trying to find a way in to investigate. She knew that I was an Archivist, she’d been told she would meet one and that I was the answer. But when we returned to the temple and got the kids settled in with their former identities to help them recover, the time super also told us that the time for her to return to the Conservatory had yet to come.”

“I don’t understand,” Hoseok murmured.

You took a deep breath. “The conservatory fights, but they don’t value the lives of those they send to fight. They’re like toy soldiers. Fighting for whatever cause the conservatory’s dean determines worthy of their attention. Sometimes that means whoever is the highest bidder.”

“Or the fight against super-powered people,” Jin added quietly.

It hung heavily in the air.

“And you and Nadya want to put an end to it,” Yoongi said, nodding slowly. “Make it into a real school for heroes, a safe place for them instead of a nest of evil. But what about your connection to the current dean?”

The boys looked to Jin when you hemmed and hawed a bit, struggling to find a way to explain it.

He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t remember her at all.”

“Ryoko…she’s…” You sighed. “She was a student. One of the ones that was in charge of keeping me in line after they realized I was an escape artist.”

“And?” Namjoon asked, one of his hands encasing yours.

You stared at the floor. “She found out about me. And I had to use a memory spell on her. But when I did it…I had a lot of ideas. So I gave her an artifact that puts her in the good favor of those above her, one that earns you promotions…but that also let me know what happened at the conservatory.”

“W-what?” Jungkook’s eyes were huge.

Jimin’s mouth was open.

“You…used an artifact on her?” Jin asked, sounding like he couldn’t believe it. “What if someone had taken it from her?”

You shook your head. “It was a rare one, one that can only be used once.”

“So when Nadya asked if ‘She’ remembered you, she was talking about the dean?” Yoongi asked, frowning.

You nodded.

“What happens if she remembers you?” Jimin asked in a small voice.

You shook your head. “Nothing good. She’s always been power-hungry, that’s why she was the perfect choice to become the next dean and be my unwitting spy.”

“I still don’t understand,” Taehyung said. “I mean, I’m getting the feeling that there’s still brainwashing and experimentation being done…but I feel like there’s something else you haven’t told us.”

You met Jin’s gaze and could see he knew what you were going to say.

“None of you have asked about what happens to the students who don’t end up working for the Conservatory,” You said quietly. “Or why none of the students appear to be over the age of eighteen.”

The atmosphere of the room plummeted.

“Oh,” Hoseok breathed, hold on you just a little tighter.

Taehyung looked scared. “What happens to them?”

Jin cleared his throat, taking over. “If they reach the age of 18—”

“If?” Jimin asked, sounding distressed.

“They’re still used as soldiers, Jimin,” You told him, then gestured for Jin to continue.

“If they reach the age of 18, they’re given a choice: stay and work for the conservatory, or go out into the world. If they choose to go out into the world…they’re stripped of their powers, their identity…they become zombie-like. Eventually they can recover a little, but they will never notice supers or anything having to do with powers. They usually die from having their powers stripped from them, though. Or become addicts. I’ve heard of very few leading real lives.” Jin was holding onto Jungkook, like the kid might disappear at any moment. “The only reason I escaped was because I was a teacher, and I managed to leave during the turnover of staff. I wanted…I wanted to help them, but I didn’t know how. The conservatory is strong.”

“But you and Nadya think that this is the chance to change everything, to get the upper hand on the conservatory,” Yoongi said, putting it all together.

“Except I can’t be there.”

“What if we made sure the fight was drawn out, until after you’ve had the baby?” Namjoon asked, slowly and carefully.

You shuddered. “How many might die because of that?”

“Why do you need to be there?” Jungkook asked, frowning.

You looked around at all of them. “Because I can reverse the brainwashing. I’ve had the song for that school figured out for years.”

“Our first time back there you threatened to destroy the school,” Jin said softly.

“Yes. But more than anything else, I threatened to bring Ryoko harm, because it wasn’t the artifact that corrupted her. All of us lost count of how many young supers she has gotten killed.” You shuddered. “And Soobin is actually a former student.”

“What?” Taehyung yelped.

“He caught me as I was escaping and I brought him with me, took him to the home. That’s why he wanted to be closer to us instead of the people from the home. That’s why I didn’t want the boys staying there.”

“What are his powers?” Namjoon asked, frowning.

“Sonic senses, transmutation and peace inducement,” You answered, shifting and resting more on Hoseok. You felt insecure. You wanted them to assure you that they loved you, even if you did break your own rules. Your sacred rules of archives.

Hoseok’s hold tightened slightly, both hands on your stomach. “That is a dangerous power.”

“Which one?” Jungkook asked, frowning.

“Peace inducement,” Seokjin answered. “Under the control of any sort of villain or person with ill-intentions, he could induce everyone to peacefully accept a tyrant to reign over the country.”

Taehyung shuddered and pressed closer to Yoongi

“And the other boys? What are their powers?” Jimin asked, coming over to essentially sit on Namjoon so he could be close to you.

You chewed on your cheek for a moment. “Well, Beomgyu, you know has healing. Soobin told me he would keep the others safe if we made the wrong call about sending him with them. But I think it was the right choice. Heuning Kai has light, photokinesis, and the wings, but he also has air manipulation. Taehyun…I’m still not entirely certain about his powers, but I think…it’s largely psychometry, maybe enhanced memory reliving. Either way, it’s an extremely potent weapon. Especially since he also wears the badge of the high priest, meaning he trains directly with the high priest of time—not with one of the bishops or normal priests like other acolytes. That means he probable has prophetic visions or dreams.”

It was quiet after that.

Finally Seokjin forced in a breath, then forced it out. “And the last?”

“Yeonjun, he had the green robes of a nature acolyte, and his appearance…it’s definitely evidence of it….” You tried to remember what powers you’d sensed from him, working to pinpoint the exact name for them. “He was powerful too. Very powerful, but I was so overwhelmed by Taehyun’s power that I…I couldn’t really focus on his. But he was aware of Jimin, and there was some sort of…nature to him.”

“That would explain the horns,” Jimin whispered. “And the way…I didn’t really say anything but I felt like he was connected to me the moment we reached the archives and were away from the noise.”

You nodded. “I think…don’t quote me because I’m guessing here, but I think he has Ecological empathy…and maybe…something strong that has to do with the elements.” You tangled your fingers with Hoseok’s and vines quickly bound the two of you together by the wrists.

Jimin placed his hand over both of yours, smiling slightly when the vines wrapped around him too. “And are they okay right now?”

You nodded. “They’re fine. I have a song placed on Soobin, he knows how to let me know if something is wrong. I checked in this morning too, through the note-dropping system. He said they’re fine. Yeonjun is completely healed now, and they’re getting along, and apparently Huening Kai is very excitable and screams when he’s excited.”

“I wondered if he was okay, he seemed so uncomfortable and stiff,” Hoseok murmured.

“He’s young and had to go through a lot.” You let your eyes close.

You could hear them all moving closer, joining the pile.

Someone pressed a kiss your temple.

“You did so well today, baby,” Namjoon whispered. “I know it wasn’t easy telling us about what’s been going on, for you or for Seokjin-hyung. I know you probably downplayed a lot—”

“Probably?” Yoongi objected.

“Everything,” Seokjin said at the same time, sounding so heartbroken that it silenced the room again.

You opened your eyes to check on him.

Taehyung pressed a kiss to his lips. “I wish I could say I was sorry you went through that hyung.”

“Tae—” JImin hissed.

“But I’m not. I’m not sorry that you went through it because it’s what brought us together. It’s what brought you to me. You knew how to save me because of your time there, you knew how to help all of us become better people because of your time there. I’m only sorry that this place still haunts you, and that we didn’t realize how much trouble it was before now. You saved me, hyung. I know that might not be enough to you, but it means the world to me.” Taehyung pressed his face into the crook of Jin’s neck as he hugged him from behind.

Jin leaned back into the embrace, one arm still firmly planted around Jungkook, but his free hand going back to rest on Tae’s leg.

“He’s right. Your knowledge is what kept us from getting our butts kicked, now it’s you and y/n keeping us from getting our butts kicked and frankly…I think it’s because you both attended this school. So, we’re going to take it down. We’re going to find a way. Maybe not during this threat, but we’ll find a way,” Namjoon said, voice firm. “After. After our baby is born, and y/n has recovered. Until then, we build up our arsenal of allies. Or, if this fight takes longer than we think, maybe you come back in time for us to take down the school at the same time. Okay?”

There were murmurs of consent from everyone, including you.

Then all of you were just laying there, cuddling.

Because you would have to leave them once the conversation truly ended, and none of you were ready for that.

~~~~

Part 12. Part 14.

Masterlist. ~ Series Masterpost.

Tagging: @ephemeral-mindset, @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld, @knjhe, @i-dont-even-know-fck

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royaljellysandwich · 4 years

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It's about time we had "The Talk" (RE: 'Aging-Up')

Anyone who's commissioned me, or gave to my Patreon, or are thinking of commissioning me in the future should read this carefully and take note: --I have a serious message for all of you. This is a tough decision but I've put it off for too long. It's time to come clean and make some changes. I'm sure most of you have seen a lot of talk about a particular subject matter from the kink-art community in the past year or so, but I can assure everyone this has been an issue that's bothered me since I began drawing kink art. Specifically--underage characters involved in kink art. Now I'm not trying to single out any person or persons, I don't really believe anyone who's drawn or commissioned kink related content, and/or still does, is instantly a pedophile or anything like that. I am also aware of "aging up" characters (which I've done) but to be honest I don't see that as an acceptable excuse any more--in fact I kinda never really did. I was always uncomfortable with it, but I still went ahead with it anyway without acknowledging it, because I needed the money. In retrospect I should have turned it down or asked for changes. If this ever bothered you personally, I am sorry and it's not gonna happen again. You may have seen me bring this subject up before but then not act on it--I should have. It's time to stop kicking this can down the road and put my foot down. This is for the sake of my mental health. From now on I will not draw "aged-up" characters in expansion/kink art if they're not canonically 18 or older, regardless of whether or not the art involves sex or nudity. I also won't do any characters that ARE of age, yet are drawn to look underage. I will reject any commission or Patreon reward requests that do so. Please take note of any character's age and take the time looking it up BEFORE sending me a commission request. --Now I know I hear a lot of counterarguments to this: "They're 18 if the artist says they're 18" "It's not technically porn" "It's not real/only a drawing" "Age of consent laws differ depending on region", etc, etc... I'm not trying to dismiss those statements or say anything negative or judgmental about people who say/believe that, I'm just saying I personally am making a choice not to do it any more. It always gave me a badly anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach even thinking about it (I'm feeling it right now while typing this). I'm not doing this to "avoid getting in trouble" or kicked off any platform. This doesn't have anything to do with the rules and TOS of Deviantart, Patreon, FA, or any similar site, or any recent "crackdowns", or any other artist or user who has recently decided to do this. This is something I've had an issue with PERSONALLY, and for quite a while. I am under no outside pressure to do this. This is MY choice. If you're one of the people who've commissioned/patreoned something like this before, PLEASE don't feel bad, or think that I don't like you or don't want to do business with you any more. I don't think there's anything wrong with you, never did. I also realize this is going to really limit a lot of the characters I can draw--a lot of them characters that I really like. It counts out many Sonic characters, anime characters, etc. but I just have to deal with it and stick to my principles. I hope you all understand. --You might be thinking, does this mean I'll be taking down old art? As of right now, I haven't decided. I don't know if I'll end up taking things down or not, seeing as how a lot of the art is stuff someone paid for and it might not be fair. We'll see how things go. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your support. --RJS

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landlordrecords · 3 years

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Bassline (& 2020 in general): Re-e-wind

What a strange year, as everyone, everywhere has said a million times… Writing-wise, I’d been doing Record Collector magazine since 2014, and uDiscover (the Universal Records online mag) for not much less, & that all just seemed to (understandably) stop dead with the onset of the pandemic. Since then, I’ve polished off my chapter on the work of Simon Morris and the Ceramic Hobs for Palgrave, & that’s about it, so you’re more likely to find me over on Twitter at Sniffy (@philblackpool) / Twitter these days, blurting out the odd sentence. I hence thought it might be time to revisit a very old piece…

Like many, I’ve been working from home for much of the year, and although I’ve occasionally wanted to pull out my own eyeballs, it has generally been very pleasant for a voracious music-lover. I started by catching up on the vast majority of my insane, years-deep second-hand vinyl buy piles, and then chomped through a load of ‘long listen’ stuff I’d had on the backburner forever (including, astonishingly, eventually getting through something like 40 hours of Pan Sonic live sets someone had dumped online). I graded hundreds of releases for sale on Discogs, and revisited umpteen musical thangs extensively, including 90s gabba, Sun Ra, music hall, Schoenberg, dancehall reggae, the acknowledged worst albums ever, happy hardcore, Italian house, bounce and makina (I’ve lost track of how much time I’ve spent checking out youtubes to try to identify a couple of most-wanted bounce and makina tunes), Britpop (!), cosmic disco, and Belgian popcorn. It’s been an extraordinary year, packed with cultural discovery and rediscovery. In amongst this, in no way ashamed of my abject love of Discogs, and already having used and edited it for many years, I read the entire guidelines and decided to go hard on sorting out stuff I care about on there. Seeing they’d finally added various more recent ‘styles’, I’ve spent the last month and a half doing a ridiculous amount of edits on a dozen or so niche genres of importance in recent times (footwork, Jersey Club, yadda yadda). My tweakings around Bassline and UK Funky eventually drew me to the attention of UK Garage legend Karl ‘Tuff Enuff’ Brown, a fellow Discogs obsessive not so keen on the editing side of the site, who wondered if I might give him a hand sorting out the mess of his own and his label’s (2Tuf 4U) discographies. His entertaining phonecalls were enough to convince me.

I dug out all my stuff related to Karl’s label to listen to along the way, and found myself noticing how much UKG has been back in the spotlight of late (key, and brilliant, article here: RA: Like A Battle: The Push For UK Garage's Future (residentadvisor.net) ). While by no means unaware of this (I’ve had some lovely promos from Kiwi and the like of late, plus some moodier bits from various El-B worshippers), my status as a confirmed middle-aged semi-retired raver had hidden much of this from me. This leads me onto one of my big philosophical points of recent years: I listened to dance music avidly before I ever went out dancing, and listen to it now in lockdown, and in semi-retirement. There is far too much an emphasis among ever-rejuvenating dance music correspondents on ‘the club’ as the only way to enjoy dance music, but we know that OG disco fans are 60+ and unlikely to be out every weekend these days – is their experience now worthless? Online fans talk up their love of dance music for exercise soundtracks, bedtime calming soundtracks, etc: this is reality. Dance music is as valid to all these people as rock is to people who haven’t been to a gig in 40 years.

The style I felt myself most drawn back to was bassline (largely via Karl’s low-key issue of some DJ Q material). My love of UK Garage and all its offshoots largely stems from how physically removed I have been from it from virtually its entire history. Only my 2000-03 stint in Essex perfectly matched the garage waveform, and that was the 2-step era, quite the opposite of bassline. Despite being largely a northern phenomenon, Blackpool is largely untouched by bassline, being all about punk and bounce to my mind. An instant love for me circa 2007, bassline feels like one of those genres with unfinished business, but remains one I’ve rarely danced to. Cut off in its prime, it is now back, enormously popular, and rightly so, but, due to the vagaries of the digital music world, some of its key material remains tough to access in any decent form.

I originally wrote the piece I have butchered for this one in March 2008, on Myspace (remember that), in reaction to the exciting waves of bassline and UK funky then reinvigorating the world of UKG. It looks a bit embarrassing now, with more writing experience, although I continue to applaud my own willingness to be open about my innocent appreciation of things I love but am not truly part of.

The most notable misstep in my original piece was the presumption that bassline would become the latest enormous chart sensation. Like happy hardcore before it, the ball was, in reality, fumbled. Instead of hoped-for freaky innovation, the producers also opted, as many in years gone by, for smoothed-out commerciality (in unholy alliance with low-grade grime crossovers), although the main adversarial issues seem to have been police crackdowns and the London-centric ‘cool police’. Although I was long aware of such problems with Niche in Sheffield (the genre’s spiritual home), it appears that the police interference had a devastating effect across the board ( Banned From Sheffield: How Jamie Duggan fought for bassline… And won (ukf.com) ). This largely explains why many of the bassline producers gravitated towards the largely wack bass house/house & bass style so beloved of teenyboppers in recent years. Thank heavens that era is now largely over.

Niche reputedly specialised in an arguably unholy mixture of dated late 90s speed garage and ‘bassline house’ (think ‘Let Me Show You’ by Camisra, and MK’s ‘organ house’), way past their sell-by date (I still only really like a handful of Shaun Banger Scott bits in this style, one single 2009 Brummie CD EP, and one Virgo remix). Ultimately, though, this experiment unexpectedly created something magical. The crucial element here is the 4/4 beat. While undoubtedly skippy, the vast majority of the material favoured had a firm 4/4 beat, always favoured across all key scenes in the north of England from northern soul onwards. When they ran out of tunes to rinse, in time-honoured fashion, they made their own. Long, rumbling walls of bass, organs, and hoppy-skippy beats, with raggafied samples and gunshots over the top. Popular in Birmingham as well (pretty much the centre of a vinyl glut at the time, and now notable in the popularity of DJs such as Chris Lorenzo and Hannah Wants), B-side titles hinted of coke overload. Disenfranchised by London’s movement away from the holy 4/4 (despite a slight revival in the early noughties), and via messenger services and the like, northern producers began to exchange a new hybrid in the mid-00s which took these speed garage and bassline house influences and updated them with current R’n’B bootlegs, with influences from grime (regional grime producers were key here) and, most notably, with rococo basslines. Its most obvious comparison point was Sticky’s garage productions, concurrent with the early grime era. Southern producers such as Agent X, Delinquent (who featured Gemma Fox on their magical 2006 ‘Boxers’), and Dexplicit (Fox again, 2005’s ‘Might Be’) ran with that, and the north lapped it up. Key early pointers also included DJ Narrows’ superb 2001 4/4 tune ‘Saved Soul’, and early 00s DND work (Artwork, later part of dubstep supergroup Magnetic Man). A notable increase in output came in 2006, and 2007-9 were the genre’s original glory years. And the bulk of producers and up-&-comings delivering serious anthems to the scene came not from London and the south-east, but from Leeds (T2, Wittyboy, Nastee Boi), Bradford (TS7), Manchester (Murkz, Burgaboy, Subzero), Nottingham (Virgo, IllMana), Leicester (JTJ, H20, FB & Zibba), and Wolverhampton (EJ, TRC, Brett Maverick). EJ’s Ejucation mix series (all up on Soundcloud) is a good place to start, beginning as the bassline house began to be overtaken by the pure bassline numbers.

Distribution for serious UK garage music has often been woeful, with only high street compilations & the chart singles (‘Heartbroken’ by T2, ‘What’s It Gonna Be’ by H20, etc) making it all over the country, and this helped stymie the true development of bassline, although vinyl prices, dreadful video promos, and the leap to digital in some ways didn’t help. Years on, as an incorrigible vinyl fanatic, I still only have handful of bassline 12”s. Yes, you can now access this stuff the world over via Youtube etc, but decent, high-quality copies of full-length tunes (they are often hacked about to great effect, but in a way which obscures the original intentions, in the mix) are not always the easiest to come by, although the classic producers are increasingly putting out digital compilations of their original work. Material that would, for previous genres, be fiended after, is lost to being just more online links. At the time, I looked high and low for 12”s, succeeding only rarely, largely on the flip of UK Funky releases. The (mixtape) audience, going by comments online, were often extremely young, are probably now still only in their mid-twenties, and are seemingly happy enough with this chaotic model. Bassline originally, as all rave genres, largely ran off mixtape boxsets, and a 2007 ‘Pure Bass – Fantasy’ box from Stoke remains my key document of that era: seven bassline CDs, with many tracks repeated, but packed to the gills, with most tracks only lasting a minute or two in the mix. As with all rave mixes, it has taken me years to suss the majority of the track IDs. In the Resident Advisor piece linked above, DJ Q (from Huddersfield) talks about thousands of lost bassline tunes, the bad side of the digital revolution. My recent Discogs ferreting suggests more bassline tunes than one might imagine did make some sort of decent release, but too many only made white labels, promo CDs for commercial releases (before being snipped from the main release), mix CDRs, or Youtube’s grainy depths. Classics such as TS7 featuring Bianca’s ‘Seems Like’ appear to never have had any decent release whatsoever, despite TS7 going on to be a big name in bass-oriented house, and Bianca Gerald having kept at the vocal turns ever since.

T2 hit biggest, with ‘Heartbroken’, a gorgeous, smashed-vocal garage dub so popular that it even inspired a Jersey Club refix. His catalogue was immediately deep, although I get the impression he has stopped adding to it. One complaint about bassline, including some of the T2 work, regards the untutored vocals, which can sometimes be rather flat, and certainly lacking in dynamics compared to the dazzling US vocalists featured on some earlier UK garage pieces (I refer here, as always, to TJ Cases’ remarkable ‘Do It Again’). I kinda like that - it shows amateur enthusiasm not far removed from punk, and most obviously links to lover’s rock, as does the production at times: it gives a feeling of melancholy entirely suited to the vocals. Other bassline heroes include TS7, who briefly brought to the fore sassy female garage MC T Dot. His productions also include ‘Smile’, one of my very favourite bassline tracks, full of that Simon Reynolds-quoted 'weird energy’ possessed by DJ Hype & co in the early nineties. Male bassline vocalists such as Ideal also remain unfairly forgotten, although some of the female vocalists have gone on to work in related genres since bassline’s peak.

Paleface, an ex-member of London garage rap crew Stonecold GX, runs Northern Line Records (FB, TRC, Wittyboy, Nastee Boi), something of a quality mark for bassline productions, while also making highly successful UK Funky tunes as part of Crazy Cousinz, and later progressing into commercial house territory. He chronicled much of bassline’s high-water mark (including being married to Kyla, since sampled by Drake). Wolverhampton-based Northern Line signing TRC proved particularly adaptable, spewing out a legion of original tunes and remixes before retreating for a while to grime. Leeds’ Nastee Boi was a favourite of mine at the time, with his pitch-black gangsta bassline tunes, but pushed on towards a mixture of underwhelming R’n’B vocal cuts and nursery grime toons. Wittyboy started similarly punishingly but also went smoother, unbalancing the classic bassline rough and smooth combination.

Now that the dubiously poisonous rep of Niche has been dispatched, the key bassline acts have returned to their key battleground, and the genre seems in full throttle again. Much of the new material seems a little one-dimensional to me: producers invariably big up Bristol’s My Nu Leng as, I suppose, a bridge from bro-step to 4/4. Everything, as acknowledged by the DJs, is huge drops and nothing much else. It still sounds pretty hot though – not the updated lover’s rock of a decade ago, but worth supporting. Bassline is NOT finished!

#bassline #bassline house #niche #organ house #brostep #speed garage #uk garage

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