Category: fanfiction

Long Time No Talk

by Desdemona Wren, posted in About Des, fanfiction, writing

As many of you know, 2020 was a really difficult year. Like, it’s been nearly a year since I posted a new blog and I used to write a lot more on here about writing and writing tips and book reviews, but that just got to be too hard.

I read a lot of books last year, but I didn’t write any reviews. I didn’t really have the time to do that because I was so overwhelmed with everything going on and it’s hard to have the head space to do things when you feel so stressed all the time.

I changed a lot last year too. My priorities, my writing, my writing style, even my friend group changed. I grew in 2020 in a way I never thought I could again.

I’m a year older now and I’ve lived through a lot of bullshit.

My writing style and writing had a massive upgrade this year which, in the end, sort of frustrated me because I was working on several projects at once that I can no longer look at without cringing.

I’ve been fighting the change ever since. I keep trying to force myself to write the way I used to because it was so sarcastic and limited and carefree, but I keep delving deeper and creating stories where they don’t need to be.

I sort of stopped updating all of my fanfiction around June and deleted everything off of my AO3 account (much to the eternal annoyance of my fans) and I’ve slowly started reuploading it again, but it feels different. Like I’m constantly disappointed by my work.

So, blogging fell by the wayside. Most things fell by the wayside.

I haven’t really been active on social media. I created a discord server that’s kept me pretty busy and I completely stopped updating Rhinoverse. And maybe it’s because I spent the latter half of 2020 in a deep, deep depression, but it Feels BAD, man.

I don’t usually do New Year’s resolutions, but if 2020 taught me anything it’s that I need to do better and be better. I’ve spent 2017-2020 healing from the mess my life was in the past and trying to take stock of everything that’s wrong with me.

I want 2021 to be the year I finally own my problems and push forward regardless.

I know this blog has been pretty rambly, but I sort of had a lot to say after being gone for so long. I’ll follow this one up with a top 20 books of 2020 post. It won’t be as comprehensive as my last ones, but I don’t have the energy to write something long or detailed.

I’m sure the whole lot of you understand. Happy 2021. Be better.

The Tide, A Mass Effect Fanfiction

by Desdemona Wren, posted in fanfiction, writing

She can’t fall apart, not yet. They’re in the middle of a war. Her pain comes second to the suffering of trillions of people on hundreds of planets all across the galaxy. She is Commander Rhys Shepard of the Alliance Navy, the first human spectre, the entire galaxy is counting on her.

She doesn’t talk about it when she returns from the citadel. She offers Kolyat a place on her crew, she isn’t surprised when he declines.

Kaidan is the first person to ask if she’s okay. All eyes are on her in the crew quarters. Garrus, Liara, Tali, and Chakwas stand nearby, their faces filled with questions she never wants to answer. She laughs it off and flashes them all a smile.

Because she’s okay, she’s always okay.

She can’t fall apart, not yet.


But then he sends her that letter . The Letter.

I will await you across the sea.

She barely makes it back to her quarters before she falls down on her hands and knees. Her entire body shaking with sobs.


If all else whispers back into the tide.

Her chest clenches tight. Her heart aching painfully. She only has ten minutes before something needs her attention. Ten minutes to grieve the love of her life.

X

She’s a mess of smudged makeup and ruined hair when EDI patches Traynor through to her cabin.

“Commander Shepard,” Traynor begins. Her voice sounds far away, blood still roaring in Shepard’s ears.

“Admiral Hackett is available on comm.”

She stands up from the floor, absently rubbing her fingers over the marks the steel grating left on her skin. They tingle and sting as blood begins to flow to the affected areas once more.

“Commander?” Traynor asks, sounding worried when Rhys doesn’t answer her right away. Rhys takes a deep breath and rolls her shoulders, hoping she doesn’t sound as though she’s been crying.

“I heard you, Traynor,” she says, her voice harsher than she meant it to be. Traynor signed off immediately after that, with a quick apology.

Rhys says nothing in return.

Instead she goes to her ensuite and hastily washes her face, scrubbing away the smudged makeup and fixing her hair. She doesn’t have time to reapply anything before she has to be on the comm with Hackett. It’s unfortunate.

Her face is ashen with grief, her dark skin pale and sickly. She looks like a ghost, her cheeks gaunt, her gaze distant and glassy. Her eyes are stained with dark circles underneath, so pronounced they may well be bruises from battle.

Hackett seems surprised by her appearance like, but doesn’t address it. By now the whole Alliance Navy must know that she’s a widow. The thought that so many strangers would know something so personal about her rolls her stomach. She doesn’t voice her concerns.

X

She re-reads the letter a million times. It makes her chest ache, her lungs swell, her eyes burn.

She hides in a secret area she found in the shuttle bay, curled in on herself as she reads Thane’s final message on her omni-tool. She cries. Of course she cries. It’s almost impossible for her to stop crying. But they are fighting a WAR and she doesn’t have time to be this selfish.

Still, she indulges herself. Playing holovids of their wedding, reading countless hours of messages, listening to his voice. She does it all sitting alone, cramped in the tight space she found in the shuttle bay when everyone else is sleeping.

X

Chakwas asks if she’s alright next. Her lack of sleep is becoming dangerously apparent. It is now something she can’t hide with the application of makeup. The skin beneath her eyes is almost black, much darker than her own complexion.

“I’m fine,” Shepard responds. Because she’s always fine. Chakwas doesn’t look convinced.

“You need to get some rest,” Chakwas commands.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” Rhys responds.

Chakwas gives her a sad look. Rhys can hardly stand it.

X

Cortez catches her reading The Letter, tears streaming down her face. Her hand is over her mouth to prevent her sobs from escaping. Her whole body shakes with them, her ribs popping and cracking as she trembles in her awkward position, folded in on herself.

“Oh Shepard,” is all he says before he’s moving her, gathering her into his arms. She struggles against him, her movements erratic and wild she she pushes against his chest.

She won’t break down in front of her officers. She’s their last beacon of hope. She’s disgusted with herself for being caught doing something so vulnerable. So human.

“I’m sorry,” she says when she frees herself from him. But she doesn’t mean it.

She rushes away, heading towards the door as quickly as she can. She wants to be free from this embarrassment.

“Shepard!” Cortez calls after her. She stills for a moment, turning her head over her shoulder to hide her tear stained face from James as he exits the elevator. James stops too, curious.

“It’s okay to grieve,” Cortez tells her. She snorts and laughs out loud, harsh and unforgiving.

“I wish someone had told me that when I lost my husband.”

It’s suddenly too much for her. Chest tight and aching again at the thought of Him. The thought of Thane’s final prayer, his final words, his final letter. She wants to scream, she bites her tongue to hold it in.

“Are you alright, Lola?” James asks when she passes him.

“Fine,” she says, boarding the elevator and heading to her cabin.

She’s not okay.

X

Liara is the next to ask her if she’s alright. And it feels like the more people ask her that question, the less alright she actually is.

“Shepard,” she says, her voice soft and melodic when Rhys tries to brush off her question.

“Don’t,” Rhys says.

Liara sighs.

X

Tali tries to get her drunk sometime after that. She supposes it’s to dull the pain of her loss, or at the very least to lower her inhibitions enough to get her to talk about it.

It doesn’t work.

Rhys isn’t interested in dulling what she feels. That would be an insult to his memory. If she had died first, he wouldn’t have forgotten her.   Thane would remember everything. Her laughter, the curve of her cheek, the swell of her lips, the freckles that brushed across her cheeks. She’s overcome with grief at the thought.

She leaves before Tali can pour the first drink.

She takes the elevator back to her cabin and sobs uncontrollably until she vomits.

X

Garrus is there when she finally breaks. The last chink in her armor. He finds her in the hallway, curled in on herself after she ends a holocall from Kolyat.

“Shepard,” He says in surprise.

She’s crying, her makeup smeared across her face from her fingertips. She rubs at her eyes hastily as Garrus stares down at her, his expression belaying concern.

“Garrus,” she says, voice heavy with grief.

He doesn’t ask if she’s okay. It’s obvious she isn’t. She hasn’t been even before Thane died.

“Garrus,” she says again, a sob tearing free from her lips.  

“Garrus.”  His name is the only thing she can say.  She feels so weak.

She reaches for him.  

He’s by her side in an instant, pulling her to her feet and gathering her into his arms.  She’s embarrassed.  She can’t even stand.  

He carries her to the elevator.  

She rests her cheek on the cool breastplate of his cool armor.  She’s exhausted.  

Garrus says nothing.  He carries her to her quarters in silence.  Moving through her room to place her down on her bed.  She groans in protest, holding onto him when he tries to put her down.  She points towards her shower.  

She half expects him to protest, but he doesn’t.  Instead, he walks back towards her ensuite, placing her down in front of the entrance to the shower.

Rhys closes the door behind her and sheds her clothing.  She turns the shower on to the hottest setting and stands under the spray.  She lets it wash over her, erasing everything is, still crying miserably when it doesn’t erase her completely.  

She wills herself to stop crying, to stand tall and act like herself.  Act like the Commander everyone expects her to be.  There’s no time for her to be like this.  And yet, it’s all she’s done for months in the wake of Thane’s death.  Selfishly mourning his loss when the entire galaxy is falling apart at the seams.  

X

She fully expects Garrus to be gone when she’s finished showering.  She has no doubt that she scared him off with her soft whimpering sobs that were not at all drowned out by the roaring water of her shower.  If anything, they echoed through the chamber, amplifying the sounds of her grief.  

She wraps herself in a towel and looks at herself in the mirror.

She’s a shell of herself.  This was has taken its toll on her.  She looks like a ghost in the mirror.  Her eyes are hollow, face even more gaunt than the last time she caught a glance at her reflection.  There are creases around her mouth and eyes, a result of endless stress and suffering.  

She’s nothing more than a husk.  She wishes someone would put her out of her misery.  

She exits her ensuite and heads to her bed.  A few hours of sleep and she would be able to function.  She could get through tomorrow without breaking down.  

She tosses her towel haphazardly onto the floor.  She would worry about that when she woke up.  For now she wanted nothing more than to be dead to the world for at least the next few hours.  She prays silently to every deity in the galaxy that she doesn’t dream about Thane.

She doubts she’ll be that lucky.

“Shepard,” Garrus’s low voice sounds from behind her when she bends her knee to climb onto her bed.  

She jolts in surprise, turning her head towards him and crossing her arms over her bare chest.  

“Garrus,” she says, surprise evident in her tone, “you’re still here.”

He stands, moving towards her with a grace she had not thought Turians possessed.  

“Of course I’m still here,” Garrus says, his tone sounding almost accusatory, “I’ve given you month’s, Shepard,” he shakes his head sadly and looks at her, “And you haven’t come to me.  You haven’t come to anyone.

“I had hoped you would speak to at least one of us if not me in particular.  You didn’t.  Then I found you on the floor in the hallway of the crew quarters…” he trails off then, a sad look on his face.  

He’s worried about her.

She can’t even look at him.

“Talk to me, Rhys.”

She can’t.

She can’t.

She can’t.

She shakes her head no.  A soft whimper escaping her lips.

“Shepard,” Garrus says, concerned.  He reaches for her, but she jerks away from him.

“You’re cold,” She says when he looks hurt by her actions.

All she wants to do now is sleep.  She wants to be alone and sleep off the pain that sits heavy in her chest.  

“Rhys,” he says, his voice insistent and filled with concern.

“Please just leave me, Garrus,” She tries, “I just want to sleep.  Tomorrow we’ll know if we’ve won this war.  I…” She trails off, shaking her head and closing her mouth with a soft click of her teeth.  

“Let me stay,” he says.  And she knows she won’t deny him.

Garrus has been her best friend for years.  She needs him.  Has needed him for months.  He had given her the space she needed, something no one else had been willing to give her.  

“Not a good idea,” she protests weakly, but doesn’t put up much of a fight.  

She feels helpless.  

X

He sheds his armor and climbs into bed with her.  She has her back to him, hr face buried into the pillow Thane used to use.  

His scent is long gone, erased by the passing of time.  The fabric smells like her now, but she can still remember him.  

All she has left of him now are traitorous human memories.  She knows when those will fade with time.  The thought tears her apart inside.

Garrus holds her, his hands gripping the blanket where it covers her waist.  

X

She’s fading in and out of sleep, consumed with grief, and delirious when she starts talking.

“I loved you, you know,” she admits because it’s true, because he’s holding her in the absence of her great love, because he’s the aftermath of her destruction.  Her archangel.  

“I know,” he says, with profound sadness.  Because he’s always known.  

“It would have been so much easier with you,” she chokes out between sobs.  Because it would have been, he was still here.  He would outlive even her.  There wouldn’t be time to erase him from her memory.  She wouldn’t have to lose him the same way she had already lost and was still losing Thane.

“I know,” he says.  Because she’s right.  Because in that moment he would have done anything to make her feel whole again.  

But the truth remains.  Quiet and unspoken between them.  

She LOVED him.

she had loved him.


She’s inconsolable after that, face pressed into Thane’s pillow, staining it with tears.  

Maybe one day she could find it within her to love someone else.  Maybe one day that would even be Garrus.  

She whispers her promises to him in the dark, his face pressing against the back of her neck.  The harsh feeling of his scales ground her to reality.  Her lips still working around promises of love and forever.  

“I know,” Garrus repeats, placing his hand flat over her bare stomach, “I know.”

He repeats the words over and over and over again until they fall asleep.  

X

Tali and Garrus follow her into hell.  Their final mission, finishing the reapers where it all began for her.  On earth.

The battle is hard and not easily won.  Soldiers die in mountains around their feet as they march, armored feet beating against the ground.  They’re at the last leg, the final part when she bids them to leave her side.

Garrus protests, unwilling to leave her.  

Of course he protests.

She meets his gaze, leaning up against him and pressing her mouth to his in a short, chaste kiss.  It’s the only thing she can give to him for now.  The promises from the dark of their night spent together hang between them, unspoken.  

“Go,” She whispers against his mouth.  Because it’s the right thing to do.  Because she won’t have another person die for her.  She won’t have someone else erased .

Because if nothing else, she wants Garrus to live .

“Come back to me,” he tells her.  Because it’s all he can say.

“To us,” Tali adds.

She says nothing in return, backing away from him and Tali and turning towards her fate.  

“I love you,” she says to Garrus, to Tali, to Thane, to everyone she’s lost in this war.  Because she does.  Because it’s all she has left to say.  

Her words are a whisper, drowned out by the roaring tide of battle.

X

In the end her choice is simple.  She watches Anderson die.  She sees the Illusive Man for what he is; a puppet just like everyone else.  

She sees mountains of bodies, the reaper ship is filled with hordes and hordes of the dead.  The stench is overwhelming, dizzying.  

In the end, it isn’t even a choice at all.

“Choose,” The boy, another ghost from her past bids her, “choose.”

And she does.  She runs, clutching at her battered body, every part of her screaming in pain as she does.  

“Choose,” the ghost says still, the command barely audible over the roar in her ears.  

She jumps, soaring into the light, willing to sacrifice herself in order to give new meaning to the galaxy. Her galaxy.  To end the cycle the only way it could end, with her.  

Every cell in her body is alight.  She’s burning and disintegrating, and she’s rewriting history.    

The Galaxy, her great unwritten symphony.  She would leave behind her legacy.  Sewing seeds of herself into every piece of the universe. That would be enough.  

All else would whisper back into the tide.

Pompeii: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

by Desdemona Wren, posted in fanfiction, writing

Pompeii

Summary: What the bloody hell is wrong with Pompeii?Disclaimer: I don’t own Doctor Who.
A/N: Yeah Hi. Well lots of Doctors and stuff.

Part I – Rose and her Doctor

“Right outside those doors, Rose Tyler,” The Doctor said, drawing out her name in that way that makes her smile, “is the beautiful lost city that is Pompeii.” She smiled up at him, tongue touching teeth before bolting towards the door and running out into the beautiful ancient city.

“Hope you set an alarm for volcano day, doc,” Jack Harkness called out from behind him and leaning against the railing of the TARDIS interrupting him smiling and watching Rose marvel at the city from the open doorway of the TARDIS. The Doctor turned to him and crossed his arms.

“I think you’ll find we’re nowhere near that part of Pompeii’s history, I wouldn’t put he—us in danger like that.” Jack turned and glanced at the monitor, clicking his tongue before pushing himself off the railing to move closer to the monitor, gripping it firmly and turning it around.

“Now maybe I don’t completely understand this ship of yours, doc, but this date looks very familiar to me.” The Doctor’s brow furrowed as he walked up the grating and towards the monitor Jack had turned towards him. He read the date on the monitor and swallowed thickly.

“Rose,” he called towards the doorway upon seeing the date, which was exactly one day before volcano day. “Rose I seem to have miscalculated slightly,” he called as he walked down the grating and towards the door where he could no longer exactly see her.

He stuck his head outside the TARDIS, bracing his hands on either side of the wall around him.

“Rose?” he asked, glancing frantically around beach he had parked them on, “Rose!” he called again.

“Looks like she’s gone exploring, doc,” Jack said, pressing some buttons on the console. The Doctor wiped his hand down his face and sighed in frustration before turning back to the Captain.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Jack pressed a few buttons on his vortex manipulator before looking The Doctor square in the eye.

“Setting an alarm for Volcano Day,” he responded before walking down the grating to the door, “now let’s go find Rose.”

Part II – Pond and Raggedy Man

“What do you mean I’m stuck in Pompeii?” Amy hissed into her phone. The Doctor sounded more than just a little distressed and apologetic.

“Not for long Amy, I promise we’ll come get you,” Rory piped up in the background.

“Yes, yes. Amelia we will come to you straight away,” The Doctor responds, “but the TARDIS can’t quite…well….land. It’s like she doesn’t…want to. Something’s not quite right down there…” The Doctor finished quite uncomfortably.

“What do you mean the TARDIS can’t land?” Amy growls.

“I said can’t quite land, Pond,” The Doctor corrected, “that doesn’t mean I can’t land her, it simply means it is going to be very difficult for me to land her.”

“What am I supposed to do until you can figure out how then?” Amy asks, hands on her hips, sounding extremely irritated.

“You’ll think of something!” The Doctor says enthusiastically as he hangs up the phone and Amy nearly screams in frustration as she shoves her mobile back into her pocket. Then she notices, much to her dismay that a crowd of people have begun to stare.

“What are you lot lookin’ at?” Amy asks harshly, giving them her best ‘back off’ glare. The people quickly continue what they’re doing and start back on their way. With the exception of one, a woman cloaked in red that she can’t quite see watching from afar.

“First thing’s first, new clothes,” Amy smirks and bounds off down the road of the Bazaar.

Part III – Spartacus & Spaceman

Donna glowered at the Spaceman who brought her here to bloody Pompeii when he meant to take them to Rome. Imagine her surprise when instead of the seven beautiful hills of Rome, she’s greeted with the volcano Vesuvius and a day before the bloody thing is going to erupt.

And now, to add insult to injury, as they tried to return to the TARDIS to escape the inevitable fires of Pompeii, the ship was (of course) missing.

“How do you lose a bloody spaceship, spaceman,” Donna had whispered to him, voice shrill. He swallowed, trying to remain as calm as possible as he had asked the shopkeeper nearest to where they had parked the TARDIS what exactly had happened.

So here they were, the Spartacus twins (apparently according to Caecilius) trying to get back the TARDIS so they can escape. Caecilius seems wary of The Doctor, Donna notes, especially when he reaches out and shakes the man’s hand. Donna could very visibly see him tense, but it didn’t make the man any less kind to them, other than the quip about them looking alike.

“You know,” Donna begins, cutting off whatever The Doctor was about to say, “you lot should really take a vacation somewhere with no volcanoes,” she suggests. The Doctor clenches his jaw and sends a sideways glance at her. She ignores him and continues talking, bringing up volcanoes half a dozen times as he continues to stare at her, practically seething.

“Donna,” he whispers, harshly, pulling her to the side once she’s finally done with her long-winded schpeel about vacations and volcanoes, “they don’t know that word yet. People don’t really have a word for volcanoes until, well, tomorrow.” Donna gapes at him before shutting her mouth with an audible click crossing her arms.

Part IV – The Fucking TARDIS

He’s walking through the Bazaar when he sees her parked behind a shady merchant. He frowns slightly, almost ninety percent certain he parked her much closer to the house he was currently residing in with his three companions.

“Did you move yourself?” he asks the ship, stroking her exterior fondly before moving his hand to touch the handle on the door.

“Hey!” The merchant shouts, “don’t touch the goods if you ain’t looking to buy.” He purses his lips and very nearly laughs, ignoring the merchant as he pulls out his TARDIS key and tries to unlock the door. It doesn’t budge.

“Bugger,” he mutters under his breath, jimmying his key in the lock a few more times she still doesn’t budge. He narrows his eyes.

“Odd…” he says, stepping back and trying something he hasn’t done since his last incarnation. He snaps his fingers. Nothing.

“Are you gonna buy that thing or not?” the merchant asks, irritated. He frowns and purses his lips.

“Alright, mate,” he says, turning toward the merchant before asking, “how much?” because he can’t very well leave his TARDIS there, no matter how bloody stubborn she’s being.

Part V – Jack and Doc

“How many times have I told her not to wander off?” The Doctor asks Jack angrily, searching around for Rose on the streets of Pompeii.

“Does she ever listen?” Jack asks with a laugh. The Doctor shoots him a glare and Jack raises his hands in surrender.

“Rose!” he calls out into the crowd of people, pushing through the swarm to get to the thick of it. Maybe he would find her there.

“Rooose,” Jack calls from behind him, cupping his hands over his mouth to amplify the sound. The Doctor sighs as he bumps into several people who give him dirty looks as he tries to look for his companion.

“Doctor?” he hears someone ask near him and he turns quickly towards the sound, but it isn’t wasn’t what he was expecting in the least. Instead of Rose, he sees a woman with a white painted face and a red cloak talking into a mobile phone.

He turns around and shoots a glance at Jack. That wasn’t Rose. That was another time traveler. Which meant that…he swallowed hard.

“Jack,” The Doctor said, voice shaking slightly. The captain nodded his understanding and called out for Rose again, a sense of urgency coming over both of them.

Part VI – Rose

She found the TARDIS parked near a merchant’s stall and she smiled softly. She had wandered off like he always told her not to, but she couldn’t help it. There was always an adventure to be had, especially in a long dead civilization.

“Oh, Doctor,” she smiled, reaching out and touching the door to the TARDIS for a moment before digging in her shirt to pull out the key and stuck it into the lock.

At first, the key seemed to stick and Rose’s forehead crinkled in confusion. Her TARDIS key never stuck, it was special. She turned harder, feeling the key finally cave and the TARDIS finally unlocking.

“Doctor?” she asked, sticking her head inside the TARDIS before entering slowly when she didn’t see anyone waiting in the console room.

“Jack?” she asked and the TARDIS’s lights flickered in a warning. Rose stopped next to the console and bit her bottom lip. Something felt very distinctly wrong about her being here.

However, just as she was about to head for the door, she heard someone else jimmying the lock and froze. The TARDIS’s lights flickered again, this time with urgency and Rose felt fear rising up in her throat. Then, not even a few moments later she was distinctly aware that the TARDIS was being moved.

Part VII – The Sisterhood

The Doctor said she would think of something and he was right. Almost immediately she became a part of some kind of sisterhood of women who could tell the future. Something wasn’t quite right about these women and she was determined to find out what it was.

Thus, being a time traveler with a super phone and also quite clever, she started making very accurate predictions. Though, most of her predictions she definitely had to ensure happened on her own, she did attract their attention.

However, she wasn’t quite prepared for the extent this “undercover” position would change her. She very nearly lost sight of who she was due to the heavy consumption of the vapors that helped The Sisterhood to see and make accurate predictions. That was until she saw the familiar blue box in the bazaar (and after she reported it to the sisterhood as part of a prophecy because hey, it’s written and she read it so it had to happen, right?).

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” she asked reaching out to touch the exterior of the time ship fondly. However, before her fingers could barely graze the ship, the door flung open and she heard two people conversing about Rome.

“What?” she asked in a harsh whisper, flattening herself against the back of the box as she tried to make out what they were saying. However, it was to no avail. The only things she could make out was that it was The Doctor and a woman called Donna. What the hell was going on here?

After she could no longer hear their footsteps, she decided to make a run for it and call her Doctor to figure out exactly what was happening in Pompeii. Because now it seemed like so much more than just the TARDIS acting up and the strange vapor that was making her ill and her skin turn to stone. She really hoped The Doctor could fix that.

Part VIII – Stuck in the Wrong TARDIS

Rose sat on the floor and chewed her lip. She reached into her pocket and tried to pull out her mobile to call Jack and The Doctor to come figure out what was going on, but she found that it was missing.

“Blimey,” she whimpered, clutching her knees to her chest. Well, it wouldn’t take long for him to figure out the TARDIS had been stolen anyways and he would find her, wouldn’t he? He always did.

She didn’t know how long they had been moving, but she was so grateful when it stopped. She got up quickly and ran to the door to pull it open, but found that it wouldn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?” Rose asked the TARDIS, pulling harder on the door and even trying to push a few times.

“Oh my god I’m stuck,” she pounded on the door wildly, but it was no use. No one would come, she wasn’t even sure anyone could hear her. She sighed and swallowed, pressing her back to the door and sliding down slowly.

She never thought she’d ever be stuck in the TARDIS alone without at least The Doctor. And she especially never expected to feel so afraid and unwelcome in a place she had begun to consider her second home.

Part IX – Bad Wolf

“Doctor, she is returning,” his companion said, her mother (who ended up tagging along very much against his will, mind you) holding the poor girl up. He never wanted her to get caught up in this Sisterhood thing but he needed to know what was going on. And of course she had taken it upon herself to help him solve the mystery.

However, he didn’t remember that his younger self and Donna had been here too. Why couldn’t he remember that he and Donna had come here? The only thing he remembered about Pompeii and volcanoes was something Jack had said years and years ago now.

Wait did she just say “she is returning”? He snaps his head back to his companion who is now looking quite a bit worse for wear. He thinks he knows who she means. He knows he sees her again, right before he regenerates into his previous form. And if he’s travelling with Donna now he knows that it shouldn’t be too far off in his younger self’s future.

Why didn’t he remember her telling his younger self this? Then, as if to answer his question, the doors to his younger self’s TARDIS rattled from the inside.

Both Doctors and Donna turned to look at the blue box wide eyed. The door rattled again and then someone pounded on it repeatedly before a familiar voice uttered several unsavory words. Okay, he definitely didn’t remember this happening.

His younger self turned to him, brown eyes wide in disbelief and he stared back. He tried his best to compose himself and act like he didn’t know what was going on. But a second later when she emerged all pink and yellow screaming curses at the TARDIS he couldn’t help himself.

“Rose?” He breathed out at the exact same time his other self did and then they looked back at each other, realization flashing in his younger self’s eyes. Rose blinked a few times, shutting the door to the TARDIS behind her.

“Who are you then?” She asked. He swallowed thickly, eyes still locked with his younger self. Donna blinked at the blonde girl a few times and cleared her throat.

“You look really young,” she remarked and Rose stared at her.

“Am I missing something?” she asked, hands bunching up the bottom of her hoodie nervously, “how does everyone know me?”

“Who did you come here with?” He asked suddenly, turning back to the pink and yellow human and away from his younger self. She stared at him in disbelief for a moment.

“No,” she said, all sass as she crosses her arms, “you don’t get to ask questions. Who the hell are you?”

“Rose Tyler,” his younger self admonished playfully, his tongue peeking out between his teeth in the way she always did, “such colorful language.”

He heard her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the younger man. Then she turned and looked at Donna and back to him.

“Oh my god,” she said before turning and taking off out of the house and back onto the street.

Part X – DOCTOR!

“Doctor!” She screamed until her voice was hoarse, tears stinging in her eyes from frustration. Oh god what if he couldn’t find her. She couldn’t cope with the weirdness that was happening right now. She wasn’t even sure what happened back there in that house, but she was terrified.

“Doctor!” she screamed once more, tasting blood in her throat from the exertion. If only her mum were here then maybe she’d have a better chance of getting his attention. Her mum could probably be heard across the whole of Pompeii.

“Rose?” She heard someone ask from behind her and she whirled around to see the brown haired man from the house.

“Who are you?” She asked, backing up as he came towards her.

“Doctor!” She screamed behind her into the darkness as the unfamiliar man continued to advance on her.

“Spaceman!” The red head called from behind him, running up and grabbing onto his arm forcefully. He stopped advancing on her then and just stared at her, eyes full of sadness and something else. Something that frightened her much more than the weight of sorrow in his eyes. He was gazing at her with love.

“Doctor?” She whispered then, taking a few tentative steps towards the stranger and his red headed companion. It was then that she noticed his clothing. Who else could wear a completely out of place suit with chucks and belong so completely to the landscape?

“Rose,” he whispered with a soft sad smile.

“What happened?” She asked, visibly frightened as she looked him over, “Why are you different? Are you a clone?…how do you know me!” Donna looked at him, startled.

“Changed, Doctor?” she asked curiously, but he ignored her.

“Rose…” he said carefully, “we need to find The Doctor and get you out of this time before it’s way too late.”

“What?” She asked, mind spinning in circles. She was so confused.

“I thought you were The Doctor,” she whispered, backing away again.

“Rose,” he said, voice tinged with warning as she was just about to start running again. She stopped and stared at him.

“Where’s the TARDIS?” he asked and she narrowed her eyes.

“If you’re The Doctor, shouldn’t you know?” She growled at him before turning on her heel and taking off into the darkness.

Part XI – Volcano Day

“Amy, come in Amy,” The Doctor shouted into the telephone and Amy held it away from her ear and glared at it.

“Doctor I can bloody hear you,” she hissed into the receiver, “I called you, remember?”

“Ah, yes,” he said and she could practically hear his brow crinkling, “why is that?”

“Any chance you can land the TARDIS right now and rescue me from another month of slumming it in Pompeii?” She asked hopefully and he was silent. She sighed and pursed her lips.

“Thought so,” she continued, “but that’s not exactly why I called, Doctor.” He was still silent so she kept going, “you see, there seems to be another TARDIS here and I was thinking that maybe that’s why you couldn’t em…quite land.”

“What?” He asked, confusion evident in his tone, “another TARDIS? Nonsense, this old girl would never take us somewhere that I’ve been in the past or the future. She takes careful consideration to make certain time lines never cross. My other self being there is impossible.” Amy clicked her tongue.

“Yeah, yeah Doctor,” Amy growled into the phone, “you always say that and in the end you’re always wrong and the impossible does happen and you eat your stupid words. I mean if not you then how else would there be another blue police box in Pompeii?”

tbc

Shifting: A JONAS tag fanfiction

by Desdemona Wren, posted in fanfiction, writing

Okay. So because I love writing random oneshots every three seconds, I’m writing this. It’s a tag to Chasing the Dream. I’m really only taking one scene and expanding on it.

Hope you like it.

And because I love whoring my Twitter: Please follow me at imbrication =).

Dedicated to: smileybubble08, who writes one of my favorite stories; 14 Reasons Why Not and mindFREQ who is just plain amazing. Go read their stuff!

Reputation

Oneshot

BEGIN &&

“But what if I’m not good enough?” She asked, worry playing across her features. Kevin scoffed inwardly. As if she’d ever be bad at anything.

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, smiling at her, “we’ll meet tomorrow and I’ll give you a couple pointers before we record.” Macy squealed and nothing could’ve prepared him for what happened next.

“Thank you, thank you!” She screamed, flying into his arms and knocking him into the floor. Kevin grunted, hitting the floor at high speed. Now he understood why she played football. She was wonderful at tackling.

“Oh,” she said, looking down at him with concern on her face, “I’m sorry…” she trailed off and Kevin swallowed. He could feel her breath hitting his face and her hair brushed against his cheek.

“No…” he said, a little dazed, “it’s okay.” He stared at her, heart pounding. She shifted on top of him slightly, putting her hands on his chest so she could push herself up slightly. He swallowed. Her movement was making this position a little…

“Kev…” she said, shifting again.

“Y-yeah?” He asked, his voice a little high pitched. If she moved one more time he was going to lose it.

“Can you let go of me?” She asked.

“Huh?” He asked, noticing for the first time that his arms were fastened tightly around her waist. “Oh!” He said, releasing her, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Macy said, smirking at him and trying to push herself up off the floor. A second later she slipped and fell back down on top of him.

“I am so sorry!” She said, freaking out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…” she trailed off, eyes locking with his. Kevin swore his heart skipped a beat.

“It’s okay,” he responded in a whisper. Even though it wasn’t really okay. It was less than okay. He didn’t think he could take much more of her moving.

“I’m just gonna…” she trailed off, and he frowned. He didn’t want her to go, but he didn’t want her to keep shifting nervously either. Not to mention, people were starting to give them some pretty crazy looks.

Macy shifted again and Kevin tilted his head back, wincing when he cracked it against the floor.

“Are you okay?” She asked, more shifting.

“God, Macy,” Kevin said, “if you’re not gonna get up, can you at least stop moving around?” Macy swallowed and bit her lip.

“Am I hurting you?” She whispered. Kevin wondered why that sounded more seductive than he thought she meant it to sound.

“Something like that,” he responded. It would hurt if she kept moving and his tight pants got even tighter. So it was kind of like she was hurting him.

“I don’t know if I can get up…” she said, trying to hold still. She failed, shifting again. Kevin gasped, cracking his head against the floor again. God, he wished she’d stop. It was so distracting and he took a deep breath, trying to get his mind to wander elsewhere. He didn’t want to focus on the girl pressed against him.

“Try rolling off?” He suggested. Anything to get her off of him. This position was so uncomfortable. He might have to get Stella to loosen his pants a little. Especially if he was going to have more run-ins with Macy like this one.

“Okay,” she said, starting to roll to the side, only to be stopped by a crowd of students walking passed. “Oh god. I almost got trampled,” she said, rolling back on top of him. Kevin groaned. Did God hate him? Was that it? Is that why a very cute, athletic brunette with a football helmet on was currently laying on top of him? She shifted again.

“Macy!” He said, head hitting the floor again. She was going to end up giving him a concussion. He already couldn’t think right…now she wants to move all around and…straddle his waist?

“Sorry about this,” she said, straddling his waist, practically sitting on his stomach, “I’m gonna just stand up now.” Kevin didn’t say anything, he was too busy trying not to think,oh god she’s straddling my waist…over and over. By the way, it wasn’t working. Macy lingered for a few seconds longer. He wished she’d stand up. Oh god he wished she’d stand up. There were people around them. He had a reputation. And there was a girl straddling his waist in the middle of a school hallway. That just screamed scandal. He could see the camera phones whipping out now.

Almost sensing his aggravation, she struggled to her feet and Kevin looked up at her.Finally.

“It was nice laying here on the floor with you, Kev,” Macy said.

“Yeah,” he responded, sitting up and grabbing what she had previously knocked from his hands to the floor. It was real nice. He scrambled to his feet, and looked up and down the hall frantically. Why did this kind of stuff always happen to him?

“Well…” she said, flashing him a nervous smile, “thanks. See you tomorrow.” Kevin groaned inwardly. Tomorrow? He hoped she didn’t jump on him again tomorrow.

“Cool,” he said, voice breaking. She made him nervous and awkward and tingly…and…he swallowed. Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

END &&

Ugggh. I hate how this turned out. Trying to find a literary magazine to publish my short stories. Suggestions?

followmeontwitterimbricationplzplzplz.

Kiss the Rain: A JONAS oneshot

by Desdemona Wren, posted in fanfiction, writing

For a long time I was part of 10 authors who wrote JONAS fanfiction on fanfiction.net and it was awesome. I was one of the fan favorites and made a lot of friends and inspired a lot of people.

I kind of miss that, but nobody reads my fanfiction now because I never write it so.

Kiss the Rain

Disclaimer:I do not own JONAS, Disney does. And this idea was kind of sparked by Suburbs, who is the greatest fanfic author ever.

Summary:JONAS. A rainy night, some fangirls, and a boutique on the corner a few blocks from the Lucas’ house. What could go wrong? Or right… Joe/Macy

Author’s Notes:I love you, Suburbs. First JONAS fanfic.

. . . . . . . .

“We’re gonna have to make a run for it,” Macy whispered to the member of JONAS, Joe Lucas who stood next to her, staring out into the rain.

“Maybe we can wait it out,” Joe suggested as the screams of a hundred or so fans pierced the air behind them.

“I don’t think so,” she said, wincing.

“Great,” he muttered, “all the time I spent on my outfit and hair is about to go down the toilet.” Macy looked at him and chuckled.

“I never knew you were such a girl,” she whispered. Joe glared at her, unamused by her comment. He almost missed the old Macy Misa, the fangirl who freaked out when she noticed he had entered the same boutique that she had and usually wound up injuring him almost every time she came within a few feet of him. This new helpful Macy Misa was a little too sarcastic for his taste.

“Excuse me for caring ab-” he began, but before he could finish, the screams interrupted him as a hundred or so fangirls somehow found their way closer to Joe Lucas of JONAS.

“We have to make a run for it, now,” Macy said, her voice dangerously serious, “either way your hair and outfit are going to get ruined. So lets pick the less painful one, okay?” Okay, so he wasn’t missing the old Macy that much anymore. This one was way more logical.

“On the count of three?” He asked, closing his eyes to mentally prepare himself.

“Fine,” she responded, beginning the countdown as the crowd of screaming fans got even closer, “one,” he took a deep breath, “two,” he exhaled slowly and grit his teeth, “three!” He felt her hand grab his, pulling him out into the rain.

The two of them screamed together, shocked by how hard it was raining and by how cold the rain was.

“No amount of mental preparation could’ve prepared me for this!” Joe shouted over the sound of the water hitting their skin and their feet sloshing through the puddles on the pavement. Macy said nothing back, obviously concentrating on navigating through the alley and back to the firehouse where the members of JONAS lived.

It wasn’t a long walk from the little boutique on the corner, but in this downpour, it might as well have been the moon.

“You know,” he shouted, trying to keep up his running pace and talk at the same time, “I always thought that if I ever ended up in a situation like this, it’d be with Stella!” Macy nodded, trying to concentrate on running.

There wasn’t really any shelter between the boutique and the firehouse, so the sooner they got there, the better. Hopefully, no one would get pneumonia.

Though, after a few minutes, Macy had to know why he always thought he’d be in a situation like this with Stella.

“Why?” She shouted, gaining Joe’s attention.

“Why what?” He shouted back.

“Why did you always imagine yourself in this situation with Stella?” She almost passed the firehouse as she was asking that question, but Joe stopped, causing both of them to lose their balance and take a nasty tumble into the street next to the Lucas’ front door.

“Are you okay?” Joe asked, scrambling to his feet so that he could help her up.

“I think so,” She said, standing up on her own, not noticing the hand he was offering to her until she had already stood up. She offered him an apologetic smile.

“Let’s go inside,” he said, grabbing her wrist and leading her to the front door.

“W-wait,” she said and he turned around to face her.

“What?” He asked, rain beating down against his dark hair, making it stick to his face. She swallowed hard. Noticing that his thin t-shirt was now sticking against his chest. She wondered what she looked like right now, but tried not to dwell on it.

“You never told me why you always imagined you’d be doing something like this with Stella.” Joe smiled.

“Because,” he told her, his eyes wandering over her body, noticing that her brown hair was plastered to her face and her clothing was sticking to every curve of her body. He sighed.

“Because isn’t an answer,” she told him. He smiled again, reaching up to cup her face in his hands, tilting it upward so they were staring directly into each other’s eyes.

“That answer doesn’t really matter anymore,” he whispered. A million thoughts were going through her head right now, her heart was pounding, palms sweating (as best they could out in the rain). Her fingers twitched slightly.

“It doesn’t?” She asked in a whisper, watching as he moved his face closer to hers. His whole soaking wet body was pressed against her right now and her mind was finding it hard to register anything other than “Joe Lucas from JONAS is about to kiss me”. She wasn’t even registering the rain that was still pouring down over them.

“Nope,” he whispered back, closing the distance between them. Macy sighed. Somehow she always knew her first kiss would be in the rain.

. . . . . . . .

End Notes:I know it’s kind of spacy, if only you knew how many ideas I’ve trashed tonight. It’s a one-shot and the ending is kind of week…but…I tried.I love reviews :).

Original Work: Massacre

by Desdemona Wren, posted in fanfiction, writing

In which I have someone called “The Doctor” murder all or one of my OCs in VERY graphic ways so.

CW: Blood, gore, murder, I literally read this while squinting. Idk why this is on my fanfiction.net account.

Massacre

Summary: Welcome to the night. Mary-sue and an OC. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rain or any of the other Sues mentioned in this “fan-fiction”. The various authors that are reading and reviewing this do. I also do not own The Hippocratic Oath, but anyone with half a brain would already know that. I do, however, own Doc. Steal him and I’ll be forced to do something rather terrible.

Author’s Notes: I find these notes, rather annoying. I just wanted to make it look like I actually still give a crap about FFN.

. . . . . . . .

The Hippocratic Oath

I swear to fulfill, to the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant:
I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine with those who are to follow.
I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.
I will remember that there is art to medicine as well as science, and that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon’s knife or the chemist’s drug.
I will not be ashamed to say “I know not,” nor will I fail to call in my colleagues when the skills of another are needed for a patient’s recovery.
I will respect the privacy of my patients, for their problems are not disclosed to me that the world may know. Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty. Above all, I must not play at God.
I will remember that I do not treat a fever chart, a cancerous growth, but a sick human being, whose illness may affect the person’s family and economic stability. My responsibility includes these related problems, if I am to care adequately for the sick.
I will prevent disease whenever I can, for prevention is preferable to cure.
I will remember that I remain a member of society, with special obligations to all my fellow human beings, those sound of mind and body as well as the infirm.
If I do not violate this oath, may I enjoy life and art, respected while I live and remembered with affection thereafter. May I always act so as to preserve the finest traditions of my calling and may I long experience the joy of healing those who seek my help.

. . . . . . . .

The Doctor.

“I DON’T WANT TO BE CURED,” she pleaded as the doctor jabbed her with a needle that was full of some strange green liquid.

“No,” she whimpered, “please!” But it was too late, he pumped the syringe into her blood stream. It burned through her veins and she screamed.

“Good girl,” the doctor said, watching as her body began to transform from half-cat half-human to an all human girl. If he was lucky, maybe his subject would actually survive this time around.

“My name is Rain,” she choked out through the tears. The doctor’s demented face curled into a devilish grin.

“Well then, Rain,” The doctor said, “looks like you’ll be my first specimen to survive this injection.” Rain’s grey eyes widened in fear.

“What?” She whimpered. The blood in her veins felt like it was acid, eating through her skin. It was getting harder and harder for her to stay awake.

“If you can stay awake, that is,” the doctor informed her as he noticed her eyes were beginning to close slightly. Her eyes opened wide again and tears poured from them.

“Why did you do this to me?!” She screamed, launching herself at the bars of the cage that surrounded her.

“Amusement,” he replied.

“You have nothing better to do than…than…” she held back a sob, “kill people who are different?” The doctor tilted his head back and laughed.

“Different?” he scoffed, “there are plenty of girls just like you.” He moved away so she could see the twelve other cages that held the dead bodies of girls that had the same features that she did. She glared at the doctor.

“Who are you?” she hissed. The doctor smiled.

“They call me The Doctor,” he answered, fiddling with a scalpel, “perhaps you’ve heard of me.” She gulped and watched the strange-looking knife as it glittered between his fingers.

She had heard of him. Who hadn’t? The demented man was all over the news these days; he was a serial killer.

“What do you plan on doing with that?” she whimpered, watching the knife. The Doctor smirked.

“If you live through this you’ll find out soon enough,” he informed her, turning his back and walking towards the other cages.

“Wait!” she screamed after him, “let me out of here!” He chuckled.

“I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

. . . . . . . .

SHE WAS STILL AWAKE when her blood stopped burning. That’s when The Doctor returned.

“I’m surprised you’re still among the living,” he remarked. She glared at him, breathing hard and wiping the sweat from her forehead on the back of her hand.

He smiled at her and opened the door to her cage, reaching in, grabbing her by the throat, and pulling her out. She yelped and made choking noises as her feet dangled just inches above the floor. Her nails clawed at his hand, but it was of no use; she couldn’t use them as weapons as she once had.

“Can’t…breathe…” she choked out as he knocked her cage off of the table it had been on and threw her against the cold metal cot. She yelped again as he released her neck. She gasped for air and before she realized what was happening he had her fastened to the table and was arranging his tools next to her.

She struggled against the binds.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he picked up the strange knife he had been holding earlier.

“Tests,” he answered, examining the object.

“What kind of te-” she began, but was cut off when he slammed the knife back on the table beside her. She jumped at the loud noise and whimpered. He smirked, picking up the scissors and he began to cut away the fabric of her shirt. She screamed.

“No! No! No! Please!” She begged, struggling against the binds. The Doctor didn’t answer her, he pulled her shirt away and began on her skirt. She thrashed around on the table, screaming, begging, crying. He focused on the sound of the fabric being cut away, the soft, hypnotic sound of snip, snip, snip was absolutely intoxicating.

His lips parted at the thought of the scissors dissecting her skin. The blood pouring from her body. He tore her skirt away and stared down at her.

“Tch,” he said when he noticed the undergarments and began to cut away those with his scissors as well.

“No!” she screamed, “No please! Please!” He ignored her, pulling away the last of her clothing and putting the scissors down on the table. He reached for the scalpel and traced it along her smooth, pale skin. She screamed and trashed around the table.

“Hush.” he said so quietly, he doubted she could hear him. Then, slowly, he pushed the knife into her skin, just below her diaphram, and cut a clean line all the way down to her navel. He watched her face as he did this. Her eyes were wide with shock, her mouth open in a silent scream, her lungs were spent. Blood bubbled up from the cut as he pushed the scalpel farther, past her navel, before stopping.

Her body was shaking now, her face frozen with fear. Her eyes were locked on his face, begging him to tell her why he was doing this.

He thrust his ungloved hand into her abdomen and she gasped. Then the shaking ceased as she died with his hand around her heart.

“Tch,” he said, pulling his bloody hand out and licking the warm liquid from his fingers, “I’m disappointed.”