#10th doctor fanfics

[gcballet]

Doctor Who as tweets/textposts pt.4

<- | DW | ->

[magiccath]

TARDIS Tricks

Tenth Doctor/Reader (could be any Doctor if you squint)

Summary: In which the TARDIS pulls some matchmaking schemes

The last week had been exhausting. Life with the Doctor usually was, but this week was just a little too much for you. Not just you either, the Doctor was wiped out too.

He pushed the doors of the TARDIS open with a tired sigh, throwing his long brown coat over one of the numerous coral-like branches littered throughout the control room. Then, he made a b-line for his worn-out captain’s chair, slumping into it dramatically. His long, spindly legs stretched out in front of him, making him appear taller than he was - if that was even possible. The way he stretched was more than akin to the characteristics of the cats you had encountered.

You weren’t much more energetic about your entrance, throwing your coat next to his and moving to slump against the circular console.

“Can we please take a break from the running?”

“We haven’t been running that much,” he groaned, though you could tell he was thinking the same thing. He might have ‘superior Time Lord biology’, but he was clearly as tired as you were. Maybe there was a limit to the running he could do.

“Daleks, New New York, then that weird Bio-tech company, followed by the literal end of the universe, and wrap it all up with diamond rain on Saturn.”

“Suppose there has been a lot of running,” the Doctor grumbled again, admitting defeat. “How about a day or two of rest? Get some sleep and relax a bit?”

You nodded, glad he finally understood what you were trying to say. All you wanted was to sleep for at least 8 hours uninterrupted. Ideally, 12 hours.

“Don’t fall asleep in that chair,” you scold, noticing how he already appeared to be half asleep, “you’ll get back pain and then you’ll be insufferable. Go to bed, I know you have one somewhere.”

The Doctor grumbled, not bothering to form a full and coherent sentence. You kicked his leg, not hard enough to truly hurt him, just enough to get him out of the chair. He grumbled again and sat up in the chair, stretching his slender arms above his head.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, already looking slightly more alert. Slightly. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to fall asleep, you decided to head off to your bedroom.

You walked slowly down one of the numerous, winding halls of the TARDIS. You’d walked to your room hundreds, if not thousands, of times by now. You knew exactly where it was, and it wasn’t there. In the space where your door would normally be was… nothing. You tapped around the wall, wondering if perhaps the Doctor replaced your normal door with some kind of seamless door mechanism.

When the wall didn’t yield you let out a frustrated grunt, “What did you do?” you asked the TARDIS, resting your hands on the smooth surface of her walls. The wall was cold to the touch, colder than usual that is. Normally, you felt something when you touched her. The best way you could describe it was a presence. But, at the moment, you felt nothing.

Aggravated, you sulked your way back to the control room.

“Where is my room?” you glared at the Doctor, hands on your hips. Normally, you’d play along. Hide his Sonic Screwdriver or coat somewhere he couldn’t find it. This time, you were far too tired to humor him.

“What d’ya mean?” the Doctor frowned in confusion. “Did you get lost in the hallways again?”

“No, I know where my own room is and it’s not there!”

The Doctor’s frown deepened as he got up from his seat, brushing past you and into the hallway. He took long strides down the corridor, stopping in front of where your room normally was. He slipped his glasses out of his inner pocket, sliding the specs onto the bridge of his nose. His head tilted to the side as his hands ran over the smooth wall, examining the space with his characteristic curiosity.

“Did you do this?”

“What? No, why would I steal your room?” He peered over his shoulder, almost offended that you would suggest such a thing.

“You’ve done weirder things,” you argued, crossing your arms.

“Name one,” the Doctor challenged, mirroring your defensive stance.

“The time you put a pigeon in my shower,” you responded immediately, not needing time to think about weird things the Time Lord had done. It was one of the things you liked best about him, he was constantly strange. It made things fun, but it could also make things incredibly aggravating.

“He needed a bath. Have you met pigeons? They’re filthy.”

“Wash your pigeons in your own shower!”

“That's… that’s not the point here,” he mumbled, clearly deflecting the conversation. “Your room is missing.”

“I noticed,” you deadpanned, not looking away from him. “Can I have it back?”

“I told you, I didn’t take it.” The Doctor threw his hands up defensively.

“Rooms don’t just walk away,” you say, glaring at him. By now, your irritation was bordering on anger. All you wanted to do was fall into your soft bed and not leave until this exhaustion wore off, but you needed a bed to do that.

“Maybe the TARDIS sorted it away,” he shrugged. As if accentuating his point, the TARDIS let out a soft hum. You weren’t even sure it was real at first, maybe it was just the air conditioning kicking on.

“Did she just…?”

The Doctor nodded, confirming your theory that the TARDIS had responded to him. What reason did she have for storing your room away? You were about 98% sure that you still lived on the ship.

“Is this her way of kicking me out?” The TARDIS let out another hum, this one in clear disapproval. Not kicking you out, then.

You let out a small sigh of relief. You’d never admit it, but you had never felt more at home anywhere else in your life. Realistically, that wasn’t because of the TARDIS. It was the Doctor, he could make any place feel like home to you.

“Well then, can I have my room back please?” you asked the TARDIS

The corridor was silent. In fact, the whole ship was silent, if that was even possible.

Something you learned early on in your travels with the Doctor was that the TARDIS was the one really in charge. What she says goes. Always. It doesn’t matter if you were promised a beach vacation and ended up in the middle of winter in Victorian England. And it most certainly didn’t matter if you wanted a bedroom or not. She was a force to be reckoned with, and you respected that.

“I’ll sleep on the couch in the library, we can deal with this in the morning.” You decided it was easier to just let the TARDIS work through whatever tantrum or scheme she was cooking up. Sometimes when traveling with the Doctor it was better to just go with the flow - and that didn’t just apply to ship malfunctions or sleeping arrangements.

You trudged down the corridor, heading for the vast library. It really was an impressive library, even better than the one in Beauty and the Beast. Shelves lined the walls and extended up high for multiple stories. It was easy to get lost in the room because it was so large. Most of the time you just asked the TARDIS for directions if you needed a specific book. Mostly, you just used it as a calm and quiet place to take a break between your chaotic adventures with the Doctor.

Usually, there were at least three couches in the room at a time. Your favorite was a mustard yellow, not a particularly nice color (especially for a couch), but it was beyond comfortable. The issue was that the couch wasn’t there. Furthermore, there wasn’t any couch in the large room.

“Doctor!” you call out loudly, staring blankly at the space where there should be a couch. There were small circles on the wood where the legs of the couch would normally sit, leading you to assume that you weren’t going crazy. The TARDIS had stolen your room and now your favorite couch.

“What’s the issue now?” the Doctor grumbled, rubbing his face tiredly as he strode into the library. He came to a standstill next to you, staring at the empty floor with equal confusion.

“She got rid of the couch.”

“I can see that,” the Doctor said, his eyebrows raising in interest.

“I’m exhausted, I'm grumpy, and I just want to sleep,” you whisper urgently, almost on the verge of tears. It felt silly to be upset over such a small thing, but you were beyond tired. Your brain was functioning on sheer willpower and that was quickly running out.

“I know, I know,” the Doctor whispered sympathetically, gently lifting your face up to look at him. “Look, you can sleep in my room. She hasn’t taken that.”

“That's where you sleep,” you point out, trying not to show how flustered the endearing touch had made you.

“Normally, yes,” the Doctor smiled slightly, finding your response slightly comical. “It’s a nice bed, though I’m not sure it would matter much to you either way at this point.”

“Where would you sleep?” You frown, knowing that he needs the sleep just as much as you do, even if he would never admit it.

“I don’t need to-” he started but cut off once he saw your glare. “I can sleep in the console room, that chair isn’t really that bad,” he amended.

“You’ll hurt your back, I already told you not to fall asleep there.”

“It’s not like we have any other options,” the Doctor shrugged. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. He would do anything for you, sleeping on a chair that hurt his back was nothing in comparison.

“I’m not letting you sleep in the chair,” you insisted, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ll sleep in the chair.”

“No one is sleeping in the chair!” the Doctor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I could just sleep on the floor, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, I’m not letting you do that,” he said seriously.

“What do you propose then?”

“Well… we could…” the Doctor trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. By now, you knew it as one of his many nervous tics. “We could share the bed,” he finally said, his eyes glued to the floor.

“Share your bed?”

The Doctor nodded, still not fully looking at you. At this point, you were too tired to question it, or even really think about it.

“Can we even do that? Are you ok with that?”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t. As you’re comfortable with it,” he said back, his tone only slightly less panicked. He wasn’t even sure when the last time he shared a bed was.

“Alright,” you whisper with a slight blush.

“I’ve never seen your room,” you add after a few seconds.

“You haven’t?”

You shake your head, “it could be a torture dungeon for all I know.”

“It’s- it’s not-” he struggled before realizing you were joking. “It’s a normal bedroom,” he whispered, already walking out of the library.

You smile to yourself and follow him down the hall, the only sound the soft tap of your footsteps. His room wasn’t far from where yours would normally be, just a few turns down the hall and to the left. The door was the same blue as the TARDIS, almost identical to the front doors of the ship.

The Doctor opened the door and slipped inside, leaving it ajar so you could follow.

Whatever you had expected when it came to the Doctor’s room, it wasn’t this. Almost every square inch of the place was covered with things. Gadgets and gizmos, rocks, keys, books, alien-looking things, and-

“Is that Starry Night?” you frown, looking at a framed picture leaning against a corner.

“Oh, yeah, Vincent gave that to me,” the Doctor shrugged like he didn’t have one of the most recognizable paintings in all of history on his bedroom floor.

“Isn’t it supposed to be in the MoMa?”

“That one’s fake. Don't tell anyone though, I’m not really supposed to have this one,” the Doctor shrugged, undoing his tie and slipping it off his neck. You tried to not follow the movement with your eyes, the nimble movement of his hands as he undid the knot capturing your attention.

You looked away embarrassed, turning your attention back to the painting. “Did you steal Starry Night?!”

“No, I told you, Vincent gave it to me,” he frowned at you, wondering if the exhaustion was finally getting to you. He had just told you that.

“And you just… decided to keep it on your bedroom floor? Next to your trash can and first editions of Lord Of The Rings?”

“That’s not a trash can, it’s an artifact from B-739. Priceless, don’t touch it.”

“Right, 'cause that’s the priceless item in here that I’m worried about accidentally defacing.”

“If you’re going to bully my possessions, I’m not gonna let you sleep in here,” he grumbled, a pout barely evident on his face.

“I’ll shut up,” you say, looking around the rest of the room. You kept your comments to yourself, instead taking the time to admire the strange collection of things the Doctor kept in his room. It was like a personal museum of all of time and space. That is if the museum prioritized shiny objects and children’s toys from the early ‘90s.

It was all very him, and you couldn't help but feel safe in the room. Sure, you felt safe everywhere on the TARDIS, but this was different. If you could, you would have spent hours scouring every inch, wanting to learn everything you could about the Doctor.

You tugged your attention the the bed. It wasn’t a small bed, but it also wasn’t ridiculously large for one (albeit, strangely tall) Time Lord. The sheets were dark blue silk with a thick woolen blanket on top, also in a matching blue.

“Do you need PJs?” he asked, poking his head out of the closet he was currently in. The doors were a dark oak with a row of ties hanging on the inside of one. The patterns ranged anywhere from solid colors to cartoon characters from your childhood you had forgotten existed. You smiled as your eyes caught on a brightly colored tie with Winnie the Pooh on it.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you nod, turning your attention back to him. A few moments later he came back into the main room carrying two sets of PJs. You’d only seen the Doctor out of his trademark suit once or twice, for all you knew he just slept in it. Maybe he invented some kind of sleep suit, like a three-piece made entirely out of comfortable knit fabric.

He handed you one set of PJs, a classic striped set. He held in his hands another set, that one also striped, just in a different colorway. You’d never put much thought into what the Doctor wore to bed, but for some reason, this made sense to you.

“Bathroom’s over there,” he tilted his head in the direction of a door in the corner. You took the clothes and made your way over to the room, closing the door gently behind you, the ‘click’ reverberating through the silent space.

There wasn’t anything spectacular about the bathroom. By most standards, it was a perfectly ordinary bathroom. Even still, it’s clear to you who this bathroom belonged to. Various products (mostly ones for hair styling) were scattered across the countertop, but you didn’t feel like it was a mess.

There was a bright, puffy, flower-shaped rug in front of the sink that reminded you of something you might find in a Barbie Dollhouse circa 2002. In contrast, the shower curtain was a bright striped pattern that reminded you of a beach ball. In any other room, the decorations wouldn’t have matched, but knowing this was the Doctor’s doing made it all make sense to you.

You slipped the pajamas on quickly. You looked a little ridiculous in the Doctor’s clothes, like you were playing dress up in his closet. They didn’t fit you perfectly, but that much was expected. Even still, the fabric smelled like the Doctor, leaving you with the aching feeling that he was hugging you. You pressed your nose against the sleeve, breathing in the familiar smell before realizing you were smelling the Time Lord’s pajamas.

You shook yourself out of it and exited the bathroom, poking your head tentatively into the main room. The Doctor was sitting on the bed, having already changed into his PJs. His head turned at the sound of the door, smiling slightly at the sight of you.

“Do y’a need anything else?” he asked.

You shook your head, standing in the doorway awkwardly. Seeing him sitting there, on the bed, made it all seem real. You couldn’t do this. How could you share a bed with the man you had the biggest crush on ever?

“I- well, I can’t-” you stammered, trying to put your thoughts into words. Your brain was tired and panicking, the combination leaving you unable to fully express anything. “I can just sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor, just get in the bed.”

You shift anxiously, tugging at the sleeve of the PJs he gave you. There was no way to explain it to him without admitting your feelings. It was a double-edged sword. Or maybe it was paradoxical. It didn’t really matter.

Begrudgingly, you slide under the covers next to him. You lay like a corpse, your hands firmly tucked at your side as you stare up at the ceiling. He had those ridiculous glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. They weren’t even just haphazardly stuck up there, he took the time to form them into actual constellations. The ones that he’d shown you up close.

You felt a twinge in your heart. It took everything in you not to turn to your side and hug him right now. His hugs felt like oxygen to you. You could be having the worst day ever, but a hug from your favorite alien never failed to brighten it.

The Doctor turned the bedside lamp off, sending the room into darkness. Your eyes were still glued to the stars, their soft glow highlighting them against the black of the room. He settled down in the bed next to you. You felt every single shift as he got comfortable, the feeling of him next to you distracting. It was hard not to think about how much you liked the Time Lord when you were literally in his bed. It was impossible not to feel his presence next to you, the weight of another person weighing down your mind.

“You ok?” the Doctor whispered, pulling you out of your spiral.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. Maybe if you said it, it would be true.

You felt his hand slide against yours, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand. You didn’t dare move, you didn’t even pull your gaze from the cluster of glow-in-the-dark stars above your head. Tentatively, he slid his hand into yours.

This wasn’t the first time you had held his hand. Far from it, actually. You held his hand almost every day. It was easy to get lost in space, it was just easier if you held onto each other. But this time was different, the intimacy of it making your heart thunder against your chest.

Neither of you said anything, the silence filling the room. Eventually, your eyes fluttered closed, the fluorescent greenish afterglow of the plastic stars remaining in your mind. It didn’t take long for you to slide out of consciousness, the heavy weight of sleep taking over and dragging you down.

-

You woke up of your own accord, a pleasantry you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced. No droning alarm, blinding rays of early morning sunshine, dogs barking, or anything else of the sort. Just your mind and body, having decided they were thoroughly rested, arising of their own accord - an internal affair rather than an external one.

After the initial fogginess of waking up after hours of deep sleep, you became quickly aware of your surroundings. Not just the Doctor’s bed or even his bedroom, but the Doctor himself. More specifically, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

At some time during the night, the exact timing unbeknownst to either of you, the two of you had found your way into each other’s arms. The action was seamlessly smooth, so much so that it almost felt rehearsed.

Your legs slotted together like expertly crafted puzzle pieces, fitting together in a way that made more sense than it should have. Could legs even fit together? You suppose they must if you were experiencing it. His chin rested on top of your head, his nose occasionally bumping the crown of your head as he shifted and nuzzled in his sleep. Your own head was tucked against his chest, your ear positioned right between his beating hearts.

The steady thumping of the twin organs pumping blood through his system was mesmerizing, the sound strangely familiar and comforting. You could feel the vibrations through your body, the asynchronous beats reverberating around in your head.

Slowly, the panic started to creep in, invading the sense of calm you had felt seconds before. You were in the Doctor’s arms. You woke up in the Doctor’s arms. Even worse, the Doctor was going to wake up and find you in his arms.

As if on cue, the Doctor started to stir awake. Low grumbles left his mouth as he buried his face further into the pillow beneath him. You stiffened, the change in posture immediately noticeable. You cursed yourself for drawing more attention to the situation.

The Doctor looked down at you, his tired brown eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, unsure what else to do.

“Good morning,” he whispered groggily, his voice at least an octave deeper than usual. You felt your cheeks heat up, almost certain that a blush was rapidly spreading across your face. He wasn’t moving you away or screaming in horror. If anything, he was holding you tighter now.

“Good morning,” you patored back, unable to form any words of your own. What was there to say? “Sorry, I’m a compulsive sleep cuddler, this totally isn’t because I have a massive crush on you please don’t read into it.”

The Doctor’s thumb rubbed small, concentric circles on the small of your back, his eyes still hung up on your face. You wished he wouldn’t look at you like that, like the most beautiful thing in the whole galaxy, like it was nothing.

As if suddenly realizing what he was doing, the Doctor stopped immediately. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and released his arms from around you, the sudden loss of contact disjointed. You frowned slightly and scooted to the other side of the bed, sitting up in the process.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hurriedly, his eyes purposefully avoiding you.

“It’s ok, I really don’t mind, I mean honestly it’s probably my fault,” you responded too quickly, your words falling out of you without much thought. “It’s really not that big of a deal,” you lied.

The Doctor finally looked over at you. By now, you were in expert in reading him. The secret was to look in his eyes. It didn’t matter what face he had, his eyes always told you everything you needed to know. You’d never seen them like this, though. An unfamiliar emotion him, a combination of his emotes you were so familiar with creating something you didn’t know. That worried you.

“Yeah,” he whispered, the look gone almost as quickly as it had appeared. He was back to his cheery self in minutes, stretching his body and springing up out of bed. “Let’s get on with it, maybe the TARDIS has found your room. I’d like to go visit The Beatles, what do you think?” he babbled on, striding across his room.

You scrambled out of his bed, almost begrudged to leave the silky warmth of his sheets. You scurried after him, practically running into his back as he came to a sudden stop. An annoyed groan escaped your lips as you peered over him, searching for the cause of the sudden stop.

The Doctor was pulling on his door handle, struggling to get it open.

“Forget how to open a door?”

“I’m over 900, I didn’t forget how to open a door,” he frowned, still tugging on it.

“Let me try,” you pushed him gently out of the way, tugging on the door handle yourself. Sure enough, it refused to budge. You pulled on it again, using both hands this time. Nothing.

Sheepishly, you turn back to the Doctor, ashamed to admit that he was right. “It’s stuck.”

The Doctor crossed his arms and nodded, an ‘I told you so’ look plastered on his face. He swiftly pulls the Sonic Screwdriver out of his pocket, pointing it at the door with his usual flourish. When it does nothing, he presses a few buttons on the device before trying again. After a few minutes of this, he finally gives up and resorts to kicking the door.

“Doctor!” you cry, grabbing his arm and forcibly dragging him away from the door before he can damage it or himself.

“Do you think…” you sigh, feeling guilty for even insinuating such a thing, “that the TARDIS locked us in here?”

“The TARDIS didn’t lock us in my room,” the Doctor says like it’s the most preposterous thing he had ever heard.

In response, the ship lets out a low groan of disagreement. More versed in the language of the ship, the Doctor noticed first. “You locked us in here?!” he hisses at seemingly nothing, but you know who it’s directed at. The TARDIS hums again, this time in a more approving tone.

“Why?” you butt in to ask. You’re met with nothing but silence.

“I don’t think she’s going to answer that,” the Doctor whispers in your general direction. The ship lets out another hum of approval.

You groan loudly, throwing your hands up in defeat. Not knowing what else to do, you slump back down onto the Doctor’s bed. You sit there for a few seconds just staring at the carpet (‘90s arcade patterned, of course) before the mattress dips next to you. You pull your eyes way from the garish carpet to look at the Doctor, his face equally as dejected as yours.

“I suppose there are worse places to be stuck,” you offer, “could be Mars.”

“There’s more to explore on Mars.”

“There aren’t ‘priceless’ artifacts from B-739, a mobile of the solar system that I’m pretty sure is intended for children, a box of Hotwheels cars, and a collection of pirate maps all in the same corner.”

“The mobile was a gift,” the Doctor defended.

“That’s what you got from all of that?” you chuckle. “It’s like the world's most clustered, excentric, space museum in here.”

“I don’t really sleep in here much. I suppose it’s just become a storage room of sorts,” the Doctor says sheepishly, almost embarrassed to be this open with someone. Sharing this much of his life with you felt strangely raw.

“I think it’s perfect,” you smile, the expression lighting up your whole face, “it’s very you. Chaotic, unorganized, other-worldly, and… beautiful,” you whispered, eyes scanning across the room. It didn’t matter how much you looked at it, there always seemed to be something new and fascinating to look at.

The Doctor, on the other hand, was looking at you. He was flabbergasted at how interested you seemed in it all. The tiny twinkle in your eye reminded him of all the stars he had shown you, all of the alien planets and beautiful corners of space. Yet, you weren’t looking at something particularly odd or beautiful, you were looking at his room. His messy, haphazard collection of strange objects and patterns.

Then, you turned that curious gaze in his direction. He felt his hearts speed up, a subtle but noticeable shift within his body. It was a nasty habit, his body getting excited every time you looked at him like that. He was 903, pretty people smiling at him shouldn’t make him react this way. Yet, you did.

-

Neither of you could figure out what the TARDIS wanted from you, so you eventually gave up trying. There was no point in fighting with the ship, both of you knew that was a losing battle.

You read the Doctor’s first edition of The Hobbit in the comfy warmth of his bed. In that time, the Doctor opted to pace back and forth and fiddle with the door relentlessly. Finally, he gave up and joined you on the bed.

“Do you have any ideas of why we’re in here?” he asked, pulling the book from your hands. You let him slip the paperback from your hands, throwing it on the duvet without bothering to mark your place in the book.

“If I did, we wouldn’t be in here,” you pointed out, looking at the discarded book longingly. The Doctor popped his head back into your field of vision, clearly not taking ‘no’ for an answer.

“It has to do with both of us, otherwise she wouldn’t have hidden your room.”

“Maybe she just thinks we need a few days off.”

The Doctor shakes his head, “She wouldn’t lock us in a room for that, she would just refuse to fly anywhere.”

“Maybe she thinks we’re fighting. Are we fighting?”

“Not that I know of,” he shrugs.

“I didn’t think so. Maybe we pissed her off?”

The Doctor shook his head again, “she doesn’t seem mad.” You didn’t need to question any further, you knew that the Doctor could read the TARDIS’ emotions better than his own sometimes.

“If it’s not anger, what is it?”

“Annoyance?” he said. You couldn’t tell if he was guessing or just generally unsure.

“Has she ever done this before?”

“Once she locked me out of the ship when I complained about her never taking me where I wanted to go, but this is different.”

“Have you said anything mean about her lately?” you asked more out of curiosity than animosity, but the Doctor interpreted it as the latter. He could be quite sensitive.

“No! Have you?”

“I have nothing but love and respect for the ship. She has put up with you longer than any of us ever could.” The TARDIS hummed in agreement while the Doctor scowled.

“I don’t know what we did!” he groans, falling back dramatically on the bed.

“Are you hiding something from me? A big secret?” you say as if you aren’t the one hiding feelings for the other.

The TARDIS lets out a quiet hum that lets you know you’re on the right track and you grin, poking the Doctor.

“I’m not hiding anything!” he swats you away, “maybe you’re the one hiding things away.”

You shake your head. For a second the two of you just look at each other. It’s hard not to get lost in his deep brown eyes, they’re endless pools of wisdom that can only come from centuries of living. Beneath the wary tiredness and stoic armor you can see who he really is, a lost wanderer looking for a place to call home. It was foolish, but you secretly wished you could be that home.

“You have really nice eyes,” the Doctor whispered.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you whisper back.

“You were also thinking about how nice your eyes are?” he frowns in confusion.

You laugh, a smile taking over your face at his blatant obliviousness. “No, I was thinking your eyes are nice. I like them.”

“Oh… thank you?”

You nod, momentarily getting lost in his eyes again. Your mind was a mess, a kaleidoscope of him, the TARDIS, and your feelings for the former. You wanted so desperately to tell him how you felt, as you often did. Albeit, now was not the opportune moment. If he reacted poorly, you’d still be stuck in the room with him for an unknown amount of time.

And then it hit you. The TARDIS wanted you to admit something. She knew you had a secret, she maybe even knew what the secret was.

“Doctor?” you whisper shakily, surprised to find your voice uncertain and wavy.

“Mhm?” He pulled his attention to you.

“I just wanted to say that I love you.”

The room was silent for a moment. Neither of you moved or said a word, the normally quiet sounds of breathing and movement heightened by the lack of words between you.

“You too,” he finally said, his voice quiet. You knew admitting feelings was hard for him, especially when it came to things like love, so you couldn’t really blame him for the lackluster response.

You nodded, “I mean as more than a friend.”

“I know.”

Now it was your turn to sit in silence, your brain whirling as it tried to process his words. Was it hopeful to assume that he felt the same? That was what he had said, no?

“I’m very fond of you,” he added, sensing your confusion on the matter. “As more than a friend.”

You studied his eyes again. That unfamiliar look was back. For a minute you entertained the thought that it might be a look of admiration, love even.

The Doctor moved his hand into yours, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. It was a normal action from him, but it still sent your stomach into a frenzy.

“It’s quite an inconvenience, honestly. Makes it hard to get anything properly done when you’re around.”

You chuckle, a small smile forming on your lips.

“You’re my favorite distraction,” he said earnestly. In his own way, it was his way of saying you were the most fascinating, beautiful, unique, and magnificent thing he had ever seen. He’d rather have a day with you than centuries with anyone or anything else.

He leaned closer to you, his face hovering inches away from yours. He waited, giving you time and space to move away or protest. When you didn’t, he slowly closed the gap.

His lips connected with yours, the kiss short and light, but it conveyed the years of affection and yearning. He pulled away, both of you smiling like love sick idiots.

Satisfied, the TARDIS opened the door with a click, the sound echoing around the room.

[cas-is-queer]

I fucking love in fics when the Doctor gets hurt and the Tardis has to help his companion (mostly in romantic contexts, but others too). 9 or 10 gets hurt and Rose and the Tardis communicate via their bad wolf connection so that Rose can help him? Absolutely, gimme 20 of em. 11 or 12 has a really bad day or smtn and Clara has to try to help him, and asks the Tardis for help? Fuck yes gimme that hurt comfort. Literally any version of the Master choosing to save the Doctor and help them instead of hurting them, and spending the entire time playfully bickering with the Tardis? 100% that is my shit. 13 getting knocked tf out and Yaz cluelessly begging the Tardis for help on how to care for a stupid time lord? Fuck yes. Give me more of the Tardis telepathically communicating with companions to help the Doctor when they're hurt. I eat that shit up every single time.

[simp-ly-writes]

Lost Souls & Broken Hearts

─────── · ·  For All Time: The Series (pt.1)

─ · · PAIRING: 10th Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader, 10th Doctor x Rose Tyler

─ · · SUMMARY: You thought yourself to be the last remaining Time Lord but that all changes when a certain Rose Tyler catches you breaking into your own apartment and is dead set on introducing you to the Doctor, your husband back on Gallifrey.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, emotional angst, depictions of anxiety attacks, coarse language, eventual happy ending (but not yet), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,223 | PART TWO

─ · · A/N: I'm so excited to finally be writing this, hope you all enjoy!

─────── · · 

It was easy blending in with human life, a bit too easy, you thought to yourself while carrying your shopping bags up the stairs and around the corner down the hall towards your apartment.

Living in the city made it easy to blend into the crowd and not be questioned, chased or judged. You could simply observe as the world spun around you day after day and as the human race followed its canonical historical calendar.

Sure you could skip time to make everyday Christmas or take a turn around the stars and be back for breakfast but the utter domesticity and simplicity of taking a boring human job, studying at a boring human university, and generally performing a boring human life was a pleasant enough change from the usual or what was the usual at least, you often thought. 

Once reaching the oak door, you jiggled the door handle with a huff before remembering the silly little key the landlord gave you, like that would stop anyone from coming in.

Patting down every pocket and starting to lose hope, you take one long look left and then right before quickly pulling out your sonic screwdriver from your jacket pocket and point it at the lock.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but can I ask you-" a young blonde woman halts your motions causing you to take a sharp breath in through your nose before turning swiftly on the heels of your leather boots, long coat sweeping with the dramatic motion to meet the younger woman's sheepish stare and greeting her with a plastered smile on your painted lips.

"It's The Lady actually, or Lady for short, but I also go by (name, last/name) now… what's your name and how may I assist you?" You tilt your head forwards, eyebrow raised to observe the woman's fashion choices with intrigue as the younger woman appears to do the same to you with squinted eyes.

"Well hello, Lady,” she drags out your old title with a sarcastic tone, “I'm Rose Tyler and I was just about to ask what the hell do you think you're doing breaking into that apartment with that-" she takes a sharp breath inwards, the recognizable type gasp, you thinks to yourself, eyes gone with with pure panic before kicking open your front door and throwing your bags to the floor before starting to rush inside.

Rose grabs your arm, pulling you back into the hall and pinning you against the chipped plaster wall. Blowing a strand of hair from your face, you shake underneath Rose's hold with a huff before managing to shove her off. "You know on this planet I was told they shake hands in greeting- not the whole bloody body!" you exclaim with a huff, adjusting the jacket on your shoulders, sonic screwdriver in hand.

Rose shakes her head, mouth aghast, "how did you get that?" she asks, fingers pointing towards the device in your  hand, taking a step forwards as you take one step back, "Get what?"

"That screwdriver!" Rose reaches out with both hands now, brain half frazzled with her discovery, the other clouded over with worry as to what this woman must have done to the Doctor in order to get that off of him.

"Oh, this?" you dangle the device from between your fingertips before tossing it upwards and catching it with a wink, "got it from the contractor's store on Yonge Street. They were having a sale, I think you may still be able to get the deal, half-off or something like that-"

"Don't lie to me, I know what that is. Now tell me how. did. you. get. that?" Rose demands, hand slipping into her pocket to phone the TARDIS.

"If not a screwdriver then what is it?" you ask, looking over Rose's shoulder and into your apartment, calculating.

"Just answer my question!" Rose yells, phone starting to ring. 

“What is going on out here?!” You both look towards an older blonde woman who steps out from across the hall in what looks to be a dull yellow bathrobe, “and who the hell are- you’ve got to be kidding me, you’ve found another one? Fucking ‘ell Rose Tyler, I’m starting to think danger follows you better then your own shadow!” 

“Mum! Now is not the time please and you-” Rose begins to speak before realizing you had taken down the hall and slammed the apartment door shut with a heavy BANG! Echoing down the hall. 

“Now look at what you’ve done!” Rose huffs, fingers balling up into fists as she walks past her mother to stand in front of your door, knocking repeatedly. 

“And what have I done?” Rose’s mom stands back, arms crossed as she watches her daughter switch between ringing your doorbell and banging on your door. “I know you’re in there! I’ve got words for you!”

Meanwhile inside the apartment, you are rushing around, tripping over the various groceries that have spilled out onto the wooden floors and knocking into the picture frames across the walls. You were not expecting to have to move so soon and to say you were disappointed to have to leave so soon would be an understatement.

Your features hold a frown as you rip open the closet doors and throw every article of clothing out onto your bed in search of a specific piece of luggage. I know I left you here somewhere girl. C’mon I know you must be just dying to get out there again so now’s your chance! Just have to show me where you- your thoughts are cut off by Rose’s relentless pleas as she yells in through the mail slot now. 

Gods that girl is really getting on my nerves now, is this really any way to introduce yourself? You scoff. Turing back out of your room and down the hall to the guest room and closet in search, nearly tipping over a tangerine on your way there with a curse. 

Never liked those fruits either, clementines are superior in every way, why do I torture myself with these things- why do I- oh! There you are, you look at the red luggage with a smile before unzipping it to find the uncovered stairs within and throwing down various papers and gadgets, anything that could link to her identity within the apartment. 

Textbooks, tea, pictures… you felt yourself pausing on the last one of that list, your fingers hovering over the some dozen faces you saw right through that all contained the same hearts and those hearts that you willingly connected yourself to all those centuries ago…

Shaking your head of those distant thoughts you throw the frames down into the luggage before taking one last look towards your… open front door? Shit. You spin on your heel, darting off towards the guest room and falling into your luggage, tumbling down the stairs and finding yourself at the console. 

The machine stirs to life with a joyous tune, Hello! Hello! Welcome back, I have missed you so! You laugh at the voice in your head, I’ve missed you too, girl. Now who’s ready for an adventure? You watch as the room comes to life, every bulb shining to full illumination, switches and dials spinning without your hands to command them and that familiar buzz underneath your feet has you giddy in your shoes- it had been quite awhile since you’ve had a frill… since… you remind yourself not to have such memories before inputting a time and destination and lean back against the rails waiting for the vworp sound to commence. 

But before you can begin to enjoy the sound, a voice calls out to you and not the two you had accounted for in your brain. Grabbing the edge of the console and poking your head around you look to see… Rose?! 

“Do explain yourself,” you cross your arms with squinted eyes. 

“How’re you alive?” Rose rebuttals. 

“Answering a question with another question again?” you tease a smile, biting your lip to hide its spread across your cheeks as you try and maintain a straight face. 

“What are you smiling about? Gods you are just as worse as him! And you started the question-answer thing!” Rose exclaims before taking in a deep breath and meeting your eyes once more, “Okay. I decided to follow you. I was… curious. I’ve travelled with your kind before but had never seen another one of… well you unless you’re the Doctor and decided to regenerate again… but then again we’d be in a blue box not some luggage.”

“The Doctor?” you question in a raised tone, you feel your hearts skip a beat in your chest, no… that couldn’t be… 

“Yeah, the Doctor. Do you know him?... Them? They? I don’t know how you refer to each other in the past,” Rose explains, starting to walk around the console, picking up on the various differences between the two machines she’s travelled inside. 

“I don’t know them,” you lie, turning back to the console and flicking some levers. 

“Really? You don’t know the Doctor?” Rose asks again in a much softer tone. You can feel the disappointment in her tone rattling your bones causing you to shiver at the sound of his name. You could distantly remember the sound of his voice calling after you regenerations ago, feel his touch against your skin, feel the way his essence buzzed with pleasure being combined with your own- “No. I… kept to myself back on Gallifrey,” you lie again. 

“Huh, do you know any other Time Lords?” she peers into the valves at the centre of the console, watching as the flicker between yellow and blue hues like a rampant fire. 

“What is this?- an interrogation Miss. Tyler?” you tease, walking behind the girl to reach the other side of the console as you correct your travel angle to a quarter of the degree, “I’ve met one other one… but he is long gone now…” your voice trails off as you stare at the specks of dirt on your outfit with utmost intrigue. 

Rose apologizes, “sorry.”

“For breaking and entering? Or for questioning me?” you joke, bumping the bad mood off yourself and into her shoulder as you smile at the girl. 

“May I ask a few questions? Since it seems you’re stuck with me now for the next hour or so,” you look down at your watch before tipping your head in the direction of your kitchen, “tea?”

“Yes please.” 

─────── · · 

Rose tells you all about her travels with the Doctor across the years, you don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes nor the sound of her heart soaring, pupils dilating everytime she brings up his name. You remember being that person, in utter awe of his intelligence, wit and wisdom. Put under a spell of his charm, weak to his touch… But with every word she adds, every memory that resurfaces, a new pain settles across your skin that you pick at, eyes flashing with a burning pain at the physical proof that he moved on from me… thought me good as dead… didn’t think of our bond…  

“Are you alright there?” Rose asks, reaching across the table to hold your hands, “I’m really sorry now. I was not thinking how painful it must have been to be alone for so long… you don’t have to be alone anymore though, you could take us back to earth after this adventure and I could introduce you to the Doctor and-”

You squeeze her hands in yours, leaning forwards across the table and letting out a long breath to only answer in a whisper, “it’s okay dear. I rather liked being alone… gives me time to think and after what you’ve told me… I think I need more time than ever.” 

Rose nods, “Are you sure- I think he’d love to meet- I mean okay! But do let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will,” you nod back before dropping your touch and leaning back in your chair, “now I do believe you had more questions and I have many answers.” 

“I wish for only the truthful ones,” Rose smiles as you mirror hers to hide the guilt gnawing at your hearts. “How old are you?”

Coughing up a part of your tea with the shock of the question, you laugh, “you know it's rather rude to ask a Lady her age,” you tease, “but I’m.. old… I think I’ve recently reached 900 but I would have to count again. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Rose nods, “what planet do you like the most?” 

“Earth,” you say instantly. 

“Why?” 

“It's become a second home to me.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to your home planet.”

You look away, remembering the skyscrapers that reached the reddish glow of the homeworld atmosphere. “It was a sad necessity or else the wars never would have stopped,” you explain. 

“Is that what you truly believe?” she whispers, tone anxious, knowing that she really shouldn’t have asked but can’t help but desire to know. You partially admire this trait of hers. 

“It’s what I know,” your head falls, eyes cast to the remaining tea leaves at the bottom of your cup, observing the abstract picture with a frown.

“Lighter question, where are we going?” you shrug, “It didn’t really matter to me then… but with a human aboard…” you stand, speaking to yourself as you look at the travel log on the console, huh, why Earth?

“Say Rose, does Earth, January 2025 ring a bell?” 

“That's the first time I met the Doctor!” Rose smiles, jumping up from her spot and running down the hall to meet you, eyes cast over your shoulder with intrigue. 

“Great,” you smile tightly before slowly turning back to the screen, cursing your TARDIS.

─────── · · 

You could laugh at yourself, back where you started just a few years behind at some random street corner in Scotland. “Now this is not where we met but the time’s the same,” Rose says, eyes cast over wet cobblestones reflecting the setting sun. You let out a breath in relief. 

The streets were quiet as people prepared themselves for work the next day and you took off down the street, peering into various storefronts and cafes, a whole sleepy city all to ourselves, and to think I doubted you girl. You can hear the TARDIS buzz excitedly before quieting down once more within your head. 

“What’re we doing here exactly?” Rose asks, you turn around and shrug, placing your hands into your pockets. 

“Enjoying the world like we’re the last ones on it,” you reply with a smile before tilting your head, “how does a walk around the park sound?”

“Sounds a bit too easy than what I’m used to,” Rose laughs, looping her arm around your own, “usually when I’m with the Doctor the worlds about it end.”

“Is that so?” you mumble, “and what does he do about it?”

“Well, he saves the day of course!” Rose deadpans, scoffing at your question. 

“Does he shoot them? Kill them? Converse with them? How does he save it?” you keep your stare forwards so that Rose cannot pick up on your minute expressions, I know how he ‘saved the day’ last time… you think to yourself bitterly. He left you behind, better left for dead, you watched him do so without a second glance back and now he was with the girl on your arm that you walked around with in a barren Scottish park.  

You cursed yourself in this moment for not being able to move on centuries later, for waiting to feel his soul call out to you once more. You could still feel a part of him, maybe it was hope but you thought-no, knew him to be alive after all of these years. You wondered if he still felt you too but then again… he wouldn’t have gotten with her then… right? You ask yourself.  

You could remember his smile on your skin on your soul-bonding day, your wedding day where two became one for all time, for all existence, until the very end… or at least that's what you gave to him, the promise of forever… but at least he’s happy now… but that thought almost hurt more knowing what he was happy with someone else, you curse yourself for the selfish thought. 

Rose notices you stopped listening to her as she stops walking, causing you to pause alongside her. She walks in front of you, grabbing your shoulders as you tense in wait, remembering how the morning went. “I’m not gonna shake you for all your worth again, don’t worry about that but what’s going through your head? You stopped listening long ago…”

You stare at her, observing her youthful features, worried smile and kind eyes. You feel a stake driving through your chest, the last strand of your bond wilting away painfully slowly, untying itself from inside you causing you to grip your chest as you heave over your knees, falling to the ground. 

“Oh my god, you’re not okay. Shoot, shoot, shoot! You we’re supposed to tell me if I could help with something! I’m going to call the Doctor, okay? He’ll know what to do with a sick Time Lord better than I will, just gimme a minute okay? Don’t go anywhere,” she warns you like a stern mother, finger in your face as she waits for you to nod. You just stare blankly up at her, a singular tear falling from your eye that opens the floodgates to a waterfall. 

You cry out your pain, knowing this to be how heartbreak feels. You remember reading about the science behind the bonds in your youth, enraptured with them. You would become soulmates with someone from them… two parts always able to recognize the other no matter what and even after death. And when treated right, the bond could strengthen and so would the couple and when weakened… so would its parts. 

You felt it vividly. A fire starting up from your feet spreading up to your head as you shook off a sweat in the grass watching as the moon came up from the horizon… I wonder if he’s looking too, feels this too…

─────── · · 

“Doctor!’ Rose yells down the line, eyes watching as you rock yourself back and forth refusing to meet her gaze, actively wincing everytime she tips her head trying to chase your own stare. 

“What? Where are you? I’m waiting outside your flat and your mother keeps staring me through the window like I’m the creep,” the Doctor replies, he feels a pang at his heart as he stares down at his chest, eyebrow raised in question as he touches the hurt gently before hitting his chest with a grunt and standing up straight one more. 

“I’m currently in Scotland-” Rose begins to speak before being cut off by a worried Time Lord. 

“What on Earth are you doing there?! When did this happen?” 

“Well only about two hours or so ago, I met another Time Lord and I kinda became a stow-away, she’s really nice! A bit sassy but I take that’s a part of your species DNA,” Rose rambles, kneeling down by your form, hand outstretched that you flinch away from, she pulls away quickly, feeling guilty for trying in the first place. 

“A what?” the Doctor gasps, vowels open alongside his jaw as he stares at Jackie, not believing a word he hears. 

“A Time Lord, you know console, sonic screwdriver, time travel and all that jazz,” she explains, “and she’s hurt, I don’t know what happened but she looks to be in a lot of pain. Please come quickly… I'm scared for her, I don’t like the thought of you being the last one left when we could have done something about it.”

“C-can you tell me her name?” the Doctor asks gently, sprinting back to his TARDIS.

Rose pauses, did I really just hear the Doctor stutter? She asks herself before responding, “She said her title was Lady but takes on a human name now-”

“Are you absolutely sure that was her name?” the Doctor asks, a sudden wave of sickness has him crashing into the console, gripping its ledge as he sways side to side, impossible, he thinks to himself. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’ll be there soon,” the Doctor says with utter determination, with utter need, he must see this for himself… see possibly you, “keep your phone on Rose, I’ll track the signal to your location.” 

─────── · · 

You hear as their conversation ends and you stare up at the star filled sky above as the oil lamps flicker on around you both. “If-” you wince at your weak tone, clearing your throat before beginning again, “If he’s coming here then this is where we must part ways… it was… nice getting to meet you Rose. Please, treat him well,” you smile softly up at Rose as she stares down at you, shock evident across her features before they are sculpted sharp into a frustrated expression. 

“You lied to me! You told me you didn’t know him, who are you truly?” she demands, watching as you stand with a wobble on your feet. You can hear the Doctor's muffled voice in her pocket, demanding to know what is going on. You look between both voices before turning back and walking towards your red luggage left on the street corner, “Goodbye Rose!” you yell hearing as she chases after you. 

“Please just tell me who you are, please stay, please-”

You fail to turn around, one foot in your TARDIS, the other on the cobbled streets, another play of history about to be written on these very stones. “I’m the Lady, I’m (name, last/name), and I’m leaving behind the past like I should’ve many centuries ago. Live a good life, Rose. The best life, with many walks in the park… make sure he does the same, okay?” 

Rose stares at you for a long moment, you both look up to watch as a blue box descends from the sky at a rapid speed. “But why can’t you tell me who you are?”

“Let the Doctor tell you whatever he wants you to know… I don’t want to become between you both,” you smile at her one last time before shutting and locking the door behind yourself and setting a course off somewhere you knew yourself never to be found, at least not for a long time. 

─────── · · 

The Doctor falls out the door, cursing as he sees the red box flicker before disappearing before his very eyes. He chases after the spot in which you last stood, shaking his head in disbelief as he grips his hair before turning towards his companion. “You really weren’t lying, there was another Time Lord here,” he blinks rapidly, hearts squeezing in his chest- impossibly tight as he coughs, feeling his airways somehow becoming affected. 

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Rose races to his side, shocked when he flinches away from her touch as if she burned him. “I’m fine just a little under the weather is all, should be good in a minute or two,” the Doctor rushes out to explain, “and are you positive that was her name?”

“Yes!” Rose replies exasperatedly, “why do you keep asking? Who is she? Why- how do you know each other?” 

The Doctor remains silent, choosing his next words carefully as he slowly walks back to the Blue Box, Rose in tow. “We grew up together…but that's a story for another time.”

“Why another time, why not now? She had the same reaction you're having,” Rose presses, taking a step forwards, cornering the man in between two sets of rails. The Doctor keeps his head low, “Is she your friend, companion, ex?” The Doctor does not even breathe. 

“She’s your ex, huh… girlfriend? fiancee?... wife?” Rose whispers the last title underneath her breath catching the way the Doctor’s breath hitches as he takes in a sharp breath of air.

“So that’s why you could never call anything official?” Rose questions yet she knows the answer. She blinks rapidly, stepping back as she is confused as to how to feel. She knew him to be a centuries old creature, lived longer and will live longer than she ever could, ever would and yet… she couldn’t help but feel disturbed knowing that in the few years they shared together… he hadn’t been entirely truthful. 

“What else are you hiding from me, Doctor?” she whispers underneath her breath. The Doctor remains silent, simply staring down at his converse, gripping the rail behind him with white knuckles. “I thought her to be dead, could feel it up in here,” he points up to his head in explanation.

Rose strides forwards, painted finger poking at his chest, he swears to feel it underneath his suit, gritting his teeth at the pricking feeling that spreads across his warm chest. “But you failed to listen here, didn’t you?” 

─────── · · 

PART TWO

↳ Taglist: @just-levyy

[badwolfrose34]

Girl in the Fireplace Rant (cont.)

There was at least some engagement on my last post about this so I decided I will in fact post a follow up. GitF was 100% a bad faith episode. Moffat wrote it because he is classist and misogynistic and hates Rose. Unfortunately, part of his purpose for the episode was to show that the Doctor will always prefer a “classy” aristocrat over Rose and he wanted to have her treated as nothing. So, all of us Rose fans have to come up with a headcanon that undermines the writer’s intentions.

I think the most common one is to believe the episode was the Doctor’s attempts to push Rose away because of her mortality and how that scares him.

That never worked for me because a major part of the Doctor’s character is his protectiveness. He would never push her away to the point of danger or abandonment. For me, I feel that fictional or not, the actions of the Doctor in that episode would be entirely unforgivable if they did happen. So my headcanon is that this episode was a nightmare Rose had.

If you are like me are also one of the fans for whom the pushing her away theory doesn’t work, read on for my explanation of why I don’t think GitF could be an actual event within canon. Moffat may be a BBC writer but it doesn’t give him a right to completely undermine the show, it doesn’t actually belong to anyone outside of financial concerns. If you’re content with believing he needed to push Rose away and that the episode did happen, you can ignore this.

Why the events GitF did not happen within canon (but could’ve happened as a nightmare)

1. Doctor Who canon is very loose as it is. With multiple writers across multiple mediums, things do contradict each other and us as fans get to decide for ourselves what fits with canon and what does not.

2. The Doctor has been clearly shown to be in love with Rose. He is protective of her to the point that if a decision will kill everyone else but give her even a slight chance of survival, he can’t actually make that decision. He almost did in Dalek, but after she didn’t get through the barricade the first time he was incapable of significantly reducing her safety for the good of everyone else. He snapped awake from a regeneration coma just because Rose said “help me”. He freaked out when Cassandra had her body and again in Tooth and Claw when she was in trouble. If you count Stone Rose that almost certainly took place before GitF and he once again, lost his mind over Rose being a statue.

I do understand seeing Sarah Jane age freaked him out. And I could’ve understood him distancing himself from Rose a bit in some way. But his instinct to protect her is so strong he’d never sacrifice her safety to push her away. Leaving her alone with clockwork for an extended period of time while he partied and invented drinks is impossible enough. Let alone the way he believed he’d have no way back to the ship when he went through the time window for the last time. Not only had he just promised she could spend the rest of her life with him, but her and Mickey would’ve likely died alone on that abandoned spaceship.

Simply, it’s just too out of character to happen within the rest of the Ninth and Tenth Doctors’ canon.

3. The horse. I have been a big horse person my entire life. Horses have extremely strong flight instincts. Even the most trusting and well trained horse in the world is never going to jump through reinforced glass. I do realize as Sci Fi fans we have to suspend disbelief for a lot of things. But we are never given an explanation as to why this horse would behave so dramatically differently from another horse. Every bizarre thing we accept in the DW universe is explained to some extent. There is a book where the Doctor tames a horse with psychic paper. But that horse is never asked to violate its instincts. That horse behaves as any other tame horse behaves. That is an example of acceptable DW suspension of belief. There is still a sci fi/alien technical explanation and I can absorb it. I cannot absorb a horse jumping through a firm glass window unless they were running from something even scarier. No matter how well trained a horse is, it’s not jumping through glass just because a humanoid asked them to. Nothing was chasing Arthur and his body language did not suggest any kind of fear to indicate he was running from something even scarier. All the droids were already in the other side of the window as well. It’s simply bizarre and impossible, even in a sci fi snow. Within this very show the Doctor states you can’t hypnotize someone beyond their survival instincts. I believe this applies to horses and a horse’s instincts is to avoid jumping through or into a reinforced barrier.

Next, we are given no explanation as to how this horse jumped through glass unscathed. Glass that was said to be so strong only a truck could break through. Horses are also extremely delicate and many have fatally injured themselves just playing in the paddock. Even for injuries not that extreme, every horse person knows that even small things result in giant vet bills.

Finally, it is once again grossly out of character for the Doctor to take a living animal and make them do something he previously calculated would required a truck.

4. Things are back to normal as if the episode never happened by the Rise of the Cybermen. If the Doctor had really developed feelings for another woman so strong that he would leave Rose for dead, then lost her, would he just be back to being the same old Doctor the very next episode? I doubt it. The Doctor is also a character known for holding on to guilt. Even if Reinette was mechanism to push Rose away, the way he abandoned her would’ve caused enough guilt he wouldn’t just be normal the very next episode. The show carries on as if Reinette never happened because Reinette never happened.

The only reference to that GitF is some clockwork droids in John Smith’s journal. Which could be explained by another encounter with the droids or by the Doctor looking at Rose’s mind to see the nightmare. Which would be an intimate enough moment to imprint on John Smith’s subconscious. The words “a girl in every fireplace” can once again refer to the Doctor seeing Rose’s nightmare or another off screen adventure entirely. There is no reference strong enough to confirm the actual events of GitF ever happened. The show functions exactly the same way without it. Because, it never happened.

5. The events of the show make perfect sense as a nightmare in Rose’s head. Take it from someone with a degree in psychology. Rose has abandonment wounds from Jimmy Stone. She also has abandonment wounds from her father dying when she was too young to understand it. School Reunion, the episode right before GitF triggers her abandonment wounds by making her see the Doctor has previously left companions and did not come back for them. It also makes her wonder if she is special to the Doctor. These doubts combined with her past trauma are a perfect recipe for her to have a bizarre nightmare where she gets abandoned in the most horrific way after the events of School Reunion.

I will leave you all with my fic where this was all a nightmare. Or you can write your own if you prefer. My point is that for those who feel the way I do about this episode, we do not have to accept the events as canon. We do not have to believe the Doctor has ever treated Rose this way except in her worst nightmares.

Update to address Deep Breath:

1. Doctor mentioned seeing clockwork droids before, but we know that the Doctor has many off screen adventures. He could’ve encountered the droids at any other point in his entire life besides GitF.

2. As for that episode stating the SS Madame De Pompadour existed, that still doesn’t confirm anything. There was a real life ship called the USS Queen of France. This was named for Marie Antoinette. Jackie dated a sailor once and Rose had a friend named Keisha whose brother was a sailor. This means Rose could’ve heard one of them discussing historical naval ships. This how she would imagine a ship named after Madame de Pompadour in the first place. She and the people who built the SS Madame de Pompadour and SS Marie Antoinette would’ve simply drawn inspiration from the same place. Also, there’s the fact that someone named a fictional ship Titan many years before Titanic ever existed.

Update 2: Rose was going to get an A level in French if she hadn’t run off with Jimmy. So she could’ve reasonably been familiar with some aspects of French history and able to imagine all of these things in a dream, even if it wasn’t a historically accurate dream, everyone knows weird things happen in dreams.

[once-ina-blue-moon]

he fell asleep under the tardis console again 🙄

[bad-wolf-blue]

The Longest Hour

10th Doctor X Reader

Description: The doctor leaves the reader in a time pocket to keep them safe but time moves differently than he thought

The TARDIS thrummed softly, its ancient mechanisms alive with an energy that seemed to mirror the Doctor’s own. He darted around the console with his usual manic grace, his brown trench coat flaring as he flipped switches and pulled levers. You stood near the railing, arms crossed, watching him work.

"Alright, explain this plan to me again," you said, raising an eyebrow.

He spun around to face you, his face alight with enthusiasm. "Simple! Well, simple-ish. The planet Kallenyx is in a bit of a pickle—unstable core, mass tectonic disruption, potentially catastrophic for their civilization."

"So, Tuesday," you replied dryly.

"Exactly!" He pointed at you, grinning. "But here’s the catch: I need to go into the planet's central seismic hub—think of it as the planet’s heart—to stabilize the core manually. It’s dangerous, obviously, but that’s where the fun begins!"

You frowned. "What about me?"

His grin faltered, replaced by a softer, almost guilty expression. He stepped closer, hands finding your shoulders. "That’s the tricky part. I can’t risk bringing you along this time. It’s too unstable, and I won’t—can’t—let anything happen to you."

Your heart sank, but you nodded. "Okay, so where does that leave me?"

He straightened, his eyes gleaming with a new idea. "Ah, here’s the clever bit! I’ll take you to a temporal safe zone—tiny pocket of time where you’ll be completely protected. To you, it’ll feel like only a minute has passed, even if I’m gone for hours. It’s perfect!"

You gave him a skeptical look. "And this...safe zone? You’re absolutely sure it works the way you think it does?"

"Of course!" He hesitated. "Well, probably. Ninety-eight percent sure."

You stared at him.

"Alright, ninety-five percent. But those are good odds!"

Sighing, you relented. "Fine. Just...come back to me, okay?" He cupped your face gently, his voice soft. "Always."

The TARDIS landed with a familiar wheeze, and the Doctor led you out into a breathtaking landscape. The ground was covered in soft, glowing moss that shimmered with each step. The sky above was a swirling canvas of purples and blues, dotted with stars that seemed far too close.

"Welcome to the Temporal Nexus," he announced, spreading his arms wide. "Time moves differently here—a minute for you is an hour out there. Safe, serene, and completely outside of danger."

You looked around, awe mixing with unease. "It’s...beautiful. But are you sure this will work?" He nodded, his confidence returning. "Absolutely. Now, I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone." You stepped closer, gripping his hand. "Promise me."

His expression softened. "I promise."

With one last kiss to your forehead, he turned and disappeared into the TARDIS, the sound of its engines fading into the distance.

At first, it was fine. Peaceful, even. You wandered through the shimmering landscape, marveling at its strange beauty. The air was crisp, the silence soothing. You tried to focus on the Doctor’s words: Only a minute. He’ll be back before you know it.

But as time dragged on, unease crept in. The silence became oppressive, the stillness unsettling. Minutes felt like hours.

You tried to rationalize it. Maybe he got held up. It’s the Doctor—he always manages to complicate things. But as the hours stretched into what felt like days, doubt and fear began to take hold.

Your throat grew dry, your stomach ached with hunger, and sleep refused to come. The endless expanse of glowing moss and swirling skies offered no comfort, only a cruel reminder of how alone you were.

By the time the TARDIS returned, Days had passed— you were sitting crouched beneath a tree, trembling, cold and dehydrated. When the familiar wheeze and groan of the TARDIS filled the air, you had not strength left to pull yourself to stand and go to your Doctor.

Once landed The Doctor burst out, his face lighting up at the sight of you—until he saw your condition. His expression crumbled, horror and guilt washing over him.

"No," he whispered, rushing to your side. "No, no, no. What happened? This wasn’t supposed to—oh, stupid, stupid me!" He knelt beside you, his hands hovering over your face, his voice shaking. "I thought it was safe. I didn’t know—"

You managed a weak smile, your voice hoarse. "Took your time, didn’t you?"

"Time?" he choked out. "It was only supposed to be an hour! Minutes for you! I didn’t—"

You reached up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. "I know. You didn’t mean to. You were trying to protect me."

His face crumpled further, tears welling in his eyes. "I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I should’ve checked. I—"

"Doctor," you interrupted gently. "I’m okay now. You’re here."

He didn’t look convinced, but he scooped you into his arms, cradling you as he carried you back to the TARDIS. Inside, he laid you gently on the jump seat, fussing over you like a worried parent.

"Water. You need water," he muttered, rushing to fetch a glass. "And food. And rest—lots of rest."

You watched him through half-lidded eyes, your body too weak to protest as he wrapped you in a blanket and pressed a glass of water to your lips.

I should’ve known," he murmured, mostly to himself. "I thought I was keeping you safe, and instead..."

You reached out, gripping his hand. "It’s okay. You saved the world, didn’t you?"

He shook his head, his voice breaking. "Not if it meant this. Not if it meant hurting you."

"You didn’t hurt me," you said softly. "You were trying to protect me. That’s what matters."

He sat beside you, his head bowed. "I’ll never leave you like that again. Never."

"I know," you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder.

For a long while, the two of you sat there in silence, the TARDIS humming gently around you. Slowly, the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his hearts began to ease the ache in your chest.

And as the TARDIS drifted through time and space, the Doctor held you close, silently vowing to do better—for you, always for you.

[shuichiakainx]

Happy Birthday David 🤧❤️

[tenth-doctor-whore]

Feast

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　Tenth Doctor x Reader　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 18+ SMUT - MINORS DNI

Summary: The Doctor decides that more than anything, he needs you to sit on him, and he needs to devour you. Word Count: 1.5K A/N: First fanfic and it's a smut, hope you guys enjoy!! GN reader with female anatomy. Feel free to request :) ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡

You and the Doctor had been dating for a little over a year now. Or, dating is the term you use. While there hadn’t been an official label put onto your relationship, it didn’t matter to you and the Time Lord. He didn’t confine to human social constructs anyways, but loved you all the same. He would press kisses on your head before running out of the TARDIS, little care in the world, other than you of course. His hand would constantly be on yours, trailing Gallifreyan that if you asked about he would get vague and change the subject. Occasionally, there would be quick pecks here and there, when his energy got high and he didn’t know how to contain himself. Other times, especially after close calls, he would be slow and needy. That’s how your first time went, a few months after platonic and romantic got blurred before you two. After a dozen (give or take, the Doctor doesn’t confine to schedules as much as you would think a Lord of Time would) or so adventures, he would take you the same way. Rarely needy, though that has happened as well. 

This was one of those times, and the Doctor was starved. Something about a scent somewhere on the last adventure and his nerves and body, something about an ancient Time Lord biology thing. It’s hard to think or understand his words as he quickly strips you down, taking you into the nearest room and unwrapping you like a gift he desperately craves, leaving you in just your underwear. Not that you’re complaining. His hands are all over you as he rambles, apologies here and there, but you reassure him lovingly. You cup his face, dragging him down on top of you as you passionately kiss him. His lips are soft, as you graze your teeth over his bottom lip, biting it to hear his noises. He lets out a soft gasp as your tongue makes his way into his mouth, undressing him when you can. Soon, after a few giggles, gasps, and his roaming hands that make it hard to get any progress, he’s down to his underwear too and showing. The Doctor sits up, straddling you onto the bed, as he looks them up and down, deciding his next course of action. His lips meet your neck, eyes fluttering shut as he nips gently, his tongue flicking out to taste their skin. Their breaths are needy, as he continues his trail down to your underwear, looking up to them with eyes dilated. 

“Y/N, I need you to trust me, alright?” His voice is slightly raspy, as if dehydrated. You give a slight nod, eyes half lidded as you look down at him. “I need you to sit on my face.” Your eyes snap open quickly as you sit up to look at him. You two have done oral before, but never like this. “I can’t- we can’t- you need to breathe. Isn’t it the same if you do it down there like normal?” He sits up as well, moving next to you and grazing your neck again, unable to stop himself from touching you for even a moment. “I said to trust me, right?” His teeth make his way to your ear, tugging on the lobe softly. “Are you against it?” You shake your head, heat pooling into your underwear at the thought, but concern tugging its way into your mind as well. “We can try.”

His smile widens as he repositions himself where he’s laying down, pulling you over him and quickly toying at your underwear with his teeth, which he quickly discards as well. Soon your sex is bare above him, and he’s staring like a man who is malnourished, your juices being his nectar. He starts marking up your thighs, unable to feast with how far up you’re positioned from him. Instead of giving him the satisfaction, you bite the inside of your cheek and start palming his cock over the fabric, hoping to satisfy him that way. You, frankly, were worried, as far as you knew Time Lords still need oxygen and probably shouldn’t have an entire human body’s weight on them. 

The Doctor groaned, head tilting back slightly, closer to your lower lips but still not close enough to do as he pleases. The hand, he knew, was a distraction, as of course they would be worried. They’re just that type of person. The Doctor grumbles as he grabs you by your thighs and drags you down closer, forcing you to properly straddle his face as his fingers dig into your soft skin. Another rough palm to his cock has him hitching his breath slightly. His breath fans over your wet pussy as he hums impatiently, knowing your tactics. 

“I meant what I said, darling. I want you to sit on my face, properly. I’ve survived a hell of a lot worse than suffocation, and this would be a hell of a way to die.” “I would rather you not die, Doctor-” You gasp out as he bites against your thigh again, silencing you. You palm against him more as his eyes flutter shut. He was so close to your sex, eager to taste it fully. He could feel the tension in your body, knowing he can turn you into a liquid under his touch if you would just let him. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks gently, your consent being his topmost priority. You shake your head quickly, as he gives your thigh a squeeze, his hand warm and firm, urging you to settle down then. As you lower yourself gently, his eyes widen as he lets out a content hum. He could feel their weight and warmth engulfing him entirely. His tongue darts out, tracing the folds of their sex, spreading the wetness around entirely. He inhales deeply, taking in your scent, as he laps your juices up. His tongue is flicking and swirling, his hands reaching up to cup your ass, squeezing and kneading it, holding you into place as he feasts. He hums against you, his voice vibrating, as he manages out,

“be a darling and grab my sonic for me?”

Your legs are shaking slightly as you lean down to his discarded coat on the side of the bed, grabbing his sonic, trusting him like he said. It’s hard to think or move your limbs as his lips continue their relentless assault on your pussy. 

“What do you need the sonic for?” You gasp out, his tongue making his way inside your hole. His tongue is slightly longer than a human’s, reaching deeper than you thought it could. One of his hands comes off of your ass to guide you to hold the sonic to your clit. He pulls out just enough to respond.

“Hold the button there, and don’t stop, got it?”

You nod shakily as you do as he says, almost screaming out as it immediately vibrates directly on your clit. His tongue is back in you as well, mouth completely open as he makes quick work of you. Your body tenses as moans of his name flow out of your mouth like a symphony, unable to stop even if you tried. His hands are both back on your ass, so as you try to squirm away from overstimulation, he lets out a disapproving hum, keeping you there. Your core tightens, a large orgasm about to flow over you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. 

“Doctor please I’m about to-” You start babbling at this point, finding it hard to keep your mind straight. He speeds up as you completely tense, a wave crashing over you as you release on his face. The sonic is forgotten, dropped onto the bed during the intense feelings. You moan out loudly, body shaking, as he gently laps over your folds, taking up every drop. He eases your body down with his tongue, and soon your orgasm is done, body heavy and weightless at the same time. He taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to move when you’re ready, and you manage to get off of him and lay down onto the bed, still seeing slight stars. 

His face appears above yours, lips and chin dripping wet with your juices. He licks his lips with a grin, looking down at you before taking your lips in his gently. You can taste yourself, which makes you let out another soft moan. His hands trail your body, still worshiping your body through his touches. He pulls back, a soft smile on his face as he kisses your nose. 

“Didn’t die.” 

“Well, I almost did.” You laugh softly, legs feeling like jelly already. 

“We’re not done yet, Y/N.” He tsks, flicking your clit softly with his thumb, smiling wider as you flinch. He starts taking off his underwear as your breathing picks up slightly, already overstimulated from one orgasm but absolutely not going to stop him.

“There’s worse ways to die, right?” You say softly, closing your eyes as he starts to slowly insert himself.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Perfect Paradox - Tenth Doctor X Female Reader

Title: The Perfect Paradox

Tenth Doctor X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother mentioned, neighbors, Susan Johnson (OC), town Elders, TARDIS, Rose (Mentioned),

WC: 8,003

Warnings: Reader wears a dress/skirt, nicknames, marriage, 50s women stereotypes/misogyny mentioned, 50s-themed clothing, italics, yelling, gaslighting, slight mental breakdown?, italics for a flashback, teasing, banter, brainwashing, be prepared to run, protective Doctor, Doctor's trauma mentioned briefly (Rose), slight angst, and fluff

Your melodic humming filled the kitchen as you stood by the stove, stirring scrambled eggs around on the frying pan. The bright morning sun shined through your windows and past your white lace curtains, enveloping the kitchen in a warm golden glow. Sizing the scrambled eggs up - assuming they were done - you reached over to turn off the stove. 

Brushing down the skirt of your blue, fit-and-flare dress, you walked over to the coffee maker, grabbing your two mugs from the cupboard - one Prussian Blue, and the other a simple brown - you poured the steaming coffee into both of them. Leaning over the counter slightly, one foot lifting in the process, you opened the small glass jar of sugar cubs. Dropping two in one of the mugs, you grabbed a small spoon and stirred the sugar into the hot liquid. 

You decided to not take a sip - fearing that you might burn your tongue - so you quickly turned back to the eggs on the stove. Grabbing one of the two plates from beside you on the counter, you began to plate the scrambled eggs, continuing to hum as you heard the toast pop up in the toaster. Grabbing the pair of freshly made toast from the toaster, you began to spread butter upon both of them, before setting them down on the plates beside the eggs. Picking up one of the plates, fork in hand, your husband came in through the kitchen doorway. Right on time.

Dressed in a neatly pressed, dark blue suit with red pinstripes, he straightened his herringboned burgundy tie with a mauve flora design. His white button-up underneath was wrinkle-free from when you ironed it the night before. Your husband looked handsome, as always. You dreamily sighed mentally. You had always considered him a handsome bloke in a tight suit with amazing hair. And speaking of his brown hair - the soft strands usually stuck out everywhere, especially in the early mornings - was gelled to the side. His sideburns were prominent, one of your favorite physically attractive things about your man. All ready for work.

As he spotted the brown coffee mug on the counter, he gave you a glance, his smile growing as he winked in thanks. You mentally sighed once more. You always found yourself staring at his dark chocolate eyes - even when he wasn’t looking. 

As he took a drink from his coffee, his eyes landed on the plate of eggs and toast you were holding for him, and he let out a hum; setting the coffee mug down. "Oh, I'm sorry, darling, but I am really running late." He spoke, grabbing the briefcase from off the dining table. His Estuary English accent sounded beautiful every morning, and night; just all the time really. 

You only smiled, shaking your head lightly, "No, it's alright." You sat the plate down just as he made his way over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek in a farewell; his tall, lean statue towering over you. "Have a good day, honey."

"You too, dear." He replied, grabbing his long, light brown overcoat and tossing it over his arm, he turned halfway out the door, giving you one last grin before leaving for work. You wished your husband wasn't running late, giving him time to eat, but those times weren’t often, seeing how busy he is with being an internationally renowned neurosurgeon and all. Your mother had always wanted you to marry a Doctor.

Letting out a small content sigh, you began to wrap up your husband's breakfast in some saran wrap, before placing it in the fridge. You then ate and got ready for the day. Taking the rollers out of your hair, you made sure you looked presentable enough to go out and about. Looking out the window, you admired how nice it looked outside; you decided that it would be nice to go for a small walk.

Grabbing your purse, you slipped on your short, white gloves, and matching hat. Making sure you had everything you needed, you grabbed your house keys and left. 

There was hardly a cloud in the sky, and the sun shone brightly, warming your skin. Passing house after house in the wonderful suburbs you and your husband lived in, you continued to smile. The streets were clean - as were the sidewalks and people's yards; freshly mowed. Colorful flowers were planted at each home, composed of roses, tulips, and marigolds. Your home also had a lovely little garden in the front yard, where you raised your pretty pink roses. They were your joy. 

Shady Grove was a small town in practically the middle of nowhere. All the houses were very similar and matched in color, size, and shape. Every yard - as said before - had gardens, perfectly planted, near the large front windows of the homes. White picket fences lined each property line, separating each house from the other. The wives made breakfast in the mornings while their husbands got ready for work. And after saying goodbye to their wives, they would leave for work. 

Everything in Shady Grove operated with perfect precision. The same type and brand of cars left their driveways at the same time each day, their engines starting in perfect unison. The children, neatly dressed in their school uniforms, marched to the bus stop, their laughter bright. The air was filled with the scent of freshly cut grass and blooming roses, as if someone had bottled the essence of suburban bliss and sprayed it all over the town.

You loved Shady Grove with its tidy streets and friendly neighbors. The community events organized by the Women's Association were always a highlight, bringing everyone together for picnics and bake sales. The local library, with its rows of perfectly shelved books, was your sanctuary on Saturdays - a place where you felt at peace among the orderly rows of shelves. To you, Shady Grove was simply the epitome of suburban paradise, and you cherished every moment spent within its meticulously maintained borders. 

Spotting a few blue birds, you watched them fly with a smile, hearing their little chirps. Your eyes then landed on the high grassy hills outside the town. Your eyes immediately spotted something in the distance, but before you could even think further, you remembered that you were planning on making a strawberry milk pie. You loved pie, and it was one of your husband’s favorites. Your neighbor, Susan Johnson, was dropping off some of her fresh home-grown strawberries the very next day. The market was just around the corner, so you decided to get some milk and eggs to prepare for the baking.

~~~

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you hummed softly to yourself in the kitchen. You chopped vegetables with practiced ease, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board filling the air. The aroma of roasting chicken wafted through the house, mingling with the comforting scent of herbs and spices. It was your husband's favorite dish, and you took pride in preparing it just the way he liked it.

When you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening, you smiled to yourself; continuing to cook. "Honey, I'm home!" He called, making you giggle.

"Welcome home." You called, before finishing dinner. You were almost done.

"Is dinner almost ready, dear?" You heard your husband's voice, knowing him to be in the dining room. 

Opening the Dutch oven, you smiled as the scent of the delicious food wafted out, the aroma making your mouth water. A large plate full of roasted vegetables sat on the counter before you. Turning the heat off, you began to make both you and your husband a plate. "Yes, honey," You called back to him, "Just one moment." Heading to the dining room, you placed your husband's plate down in front of him, making him look away from his newspaper; setting it down on the table beside his food.

"This looks delicious, darling," He complimented, slipping off his dark brown, acetate frames, before beginning to dig in.

Sitting down at the end of the table, you grabbed the pastel yellow cotton napkin from the table, opened it, and placed it on your lap. Shuffling slightly in your seat, you got ready to eat, cutting into the meat with your fork and knife, "Is it to your liking?" You asked, glancing up at him, and taking a bite of the food.

Nodding, he spoke, "It is perfect, my darling," 

You smiled, watching as he enjoyed his meal, a sense of contentment washed over you. You loved these simple moments of domesticity, where the outside world seemed to fade away. "Well, how was your day, honey?"

Your husband cleared his throat, "It was quite a day, dear. I spent most of my time in the operating room." He began, pausing to sip at his water before continuing, "We had a particularly challenging case involving a brain tumor, but I'm pleased to say it went well." You nodded along, fully engaged in his words, "After the surgeries, I attended a meeting discussing new techniques we're hoping to implement soon. It's exhausting, but fulfilling work." He finished, looking up from his food, "Oh, how was your day today, dear?" He asked, as if remembering, but you hadn't noticed.

Your hand froze holding your fork mid-air at his question before you placed it back on your plate, "Oh, it was great, honey. I got groceries from the market, and I also cleaned up around the house and did some laundry."

Your husband paused, looking up at you slowly, "Nothing... Odd happened today?" His gaze was intense; questioning.

You continued to smile, though confused, you shook your head, "No, I don't recall anything odd happening today." Your smile then dropped as a question popped up in your head, blinking your eyes owlishly, "I didn't miss anything important today, did I?"

"No," Your husband spoke, seemingly satisfied with your answer.

"Oh!" You exclaimed as you remembered something, your husband's head shooting up at your exclamation, "I saw that there was a deal on that type of pork that you like, so I bought it for a future dish."

At your response, his shoulders dropped and he breathed out of his nose. Finishing his dinner, and patting the side of his lips, he grabbed the newspaper once more, "That's nice, dear," He spoke, his voice sounding slightly muffled behind the newspaper. "Some dessert would be nice."

"Dessert, absolutely," You quickly dabbed the corners of your own lips before standing. Grabbing your empty plate and his, you headed to the kitchen to fetch your loving and doting husband some well-deserved ice cream; he had such a long and hard day.

~~~

The next morning, you and your husband woke up bright and early; as you both did every morning. Dressing in a sunflower yellow fit-and-flare dress, you carefully made sure the rollers in your hair were still in place before getting ready for the day. It was the weekend, so your husband was thankfully staying home with you and keeping you company. Though, you did have a few plans for the day. Susan was coming over to drop those strawberries off, and you were planning to go to the library before coming home to make dinner and two strawberry milk pies - along with any house duties that needed to be done. 

Making sure you looked presentable, you began cleaning. As your husband read in his La-Z-Boy recliner, a cup of steaming coffee beside him on the coffee table - made just how he liked it - you were mopping the kitchen floors. The scent of lemon-scented cleaner filled the air, mingling with the aroma of brewing coffee. The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the freshly polished countertops.

As you finished in the kitchen, you turned your attention to dusting the shelves in the living room. Everything had to be just right for Susan's visit later. You straightened the neatly arranged books on the shelves, occasionally pausing to glance at your husband, immersed in his book with an unreadable expression.

"Would you like another cup of coffee, honey?" You asked, breaking the quiet concentration that filled the room.

He looked up, his eyes meeting yours with a faint smile. "No, thank you, dear. I'm fine for now," He replied, returning his attention to his book.

You nodded and continued with your tasks, the rhythmic swish of the feather duster against the bookshelves becoming a comforting background noise. But at the sound of the doorbell, you turned towards the noise, your content smile widening. "That must be Susan with the strawberries." You spoke, before heading to the door. 

Stashing your feather duster away, you brushed your skirt down with both hands before letting out a sigh. Reaching out, you opened the door, though, at the sight of the man outside your door, your smile faltered slightly; though, it didn't vanish.

The man in front of you let out a sigh of what seemed like a sigh of relief, a bright smile appearing on his face, "Finally! I found you! I've probably checked every house on this block looking for you. Are you alright? We have to go." He reached out to grab your arm but you stepped back, now majorly confused.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "Found me? What- Uh," You asked, stuttering, confused, but you recomposed yourself, "May I help you, sir?" 

This man before you went to speak, but ultimately shut his mouth. And then he just stared at you, his own eyebrows furrowed, his dark brown eyes seemingly analyzing you. It was intense. His eyes then broke from yours and glanced around wildly to the side and behind you before looking back at you, "It's me, the Doctor," He gestured to himself, but upon receiving no reply - confusion still in your eyes - his tone dropped, "You have to remember me." His voice is low, and deep, but you remained silent; a shiver ran through you from his intense stare, your cheeks feeling warm. 

You also took this time to observe him. His hair was brown, strands sticking up in odd angles like he had just gotten out of bed. His eyes were brown, like dark chocolate. He was tall, and lanky, wearing the very same attire your husband would wear to work. A thought buzzed in the back of your mind as you eyed his sideburns... 

'He looks a lot like my husband.'

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't recognize you." You began, seeing something flash in his eyes as he ran a frustrated - almost angry - hand through his hair, "Do you work with my husband?"

Before he could speak though, your husband's voice caught your attention, "Who's at the door, dear?"

Turning, your smile widened at his presence, watching him enter the entryway. Your smile faltered slightly upon seeing your husband's frown. "This gentleman said that he was a doctor." You spoke to him, "Is he one of your colleagues?"

Your husband doesn't answer, coming up beside you, his hand coming up to press against your lower back. "Why don't you vacuum the living room, dear? You did mention that you wanted to clean the floor earlier." Your husband spoke, and you gave him a bright smile, nodding.

"Yes, honey." You spoke as your husband went to stand by the stranger at your door, his hand on the doorknob to shut the door behind him, wanting a private conversation with the man outside. Heading to the living room, just as the front door began to shut, it stopped suddenly. 

"Y/N!" You heard the stranger call for you, making you turn, seeing him holding the door open as your husband visibly glared at him. Your husband was trying to close the door, but the stranger was preventing him. The look on the stranger's face was a look of total determined desperation. For some reason, you felt that whatever he was going to say was urgent. Pushing against the strength of your husband, he grunted lightly before speaking; his dark eyes bore into yours, "When did you get married!?"

At those words, he was overpowered and the door slammed shut. The sound reverberated in your mind, echoing as you found yourself frozen to where you stood. You stared at the door, before you moved your hand up, your eyes meeting the glimmering ring on your ring finger. 

'When did you get married!?'

'When did I get married?'

Your mind felt suddenly blank, fuzzy even. You tried to recall the details of your wedding day, but the memories remained elusive, obscured behind a fog. You shut your eyes tight and rubbed your temples, hoping to coax out fragments of recollection, but all you could grasp were fleeting glimpses: the scent of roses in the air, the warmth of sunlight filtering through stained-glass windows, and the faces of smiling guests.

Opening your eyes, you looked around the living room. If you had gotten married, wouldn't there be pictures? Searching the walls, you passed each one, trying to find something - anything - that would confirm your wedding day. Each frame held snapshots of idyllic moments: vacations, family gatherings, and smiling faces captured in time. 

"No wedding photos," You muttered, your voice barely audible as a knot tightened in your stomach. It was as if the most significant day of your life had been erased, replaced by an unsettling void that threatened to swallow you whole. But you kept searching - from the dining room, kitchen, hallways, bathroom, and bedroom - yet, you found nothing. You even searched the closets for your dress, but even that too was missing. Finding yourself back in the living room, you heard the front door open. You could feel your husband's presence behind you, and you let out a shaky breath, "How come we don't have any pictures of our wedding?" You asked, not bothering to turn around.

"You didn't want any," He spoke, and that made you turn, your eyes holding so much confusion. He looked down at you, continuing, "Don't you remember? You didn't want us to waste our money on all that film or to hire someone to take them. That's why we didn't get any." He explained.

"I did that?" You asked, doubting yourself but more questions began popping up in your head, and before you could even stop yourself, you were speaking; "How long have we been married?"

Your husband let out a laugh as if what you had said was stupid, "Seven years," He replied, causing you to blink, "What do you mean how long have we been married?" Your husband shook his head, his hand rising to stroke your back, "It's nothing, darling. Just forget it, alright?"

“What about my dress? My wedding dress, where is it?” You asked, your finger twisting your wedding band around your finger; fidgeting.

“You donated it,” He answered, “Please, dear, this is silly-”

"Why did he look so much like you?" You ignored him, his usually comforting and welcomed touch burning you, you quickly slipped out of his hold, staring up at him with wide eyes as if he had grown a second head. "Who was he?"

He blinked at you before letting out an almost awkward chuckle, shaking his head, "Just a friend from work, really, this is nothing you need to be so worked up about. Isn't Susan coming by soon?" He tried to again divert the conversation, but you weren't having it.

"No! Something's not right here!" You exclaimed, gesturing around you wildly, "How come I can't remember my wedding? Which is supposed to be the happiest day of my life! And why don't we have any evidence of a wedding, except rings? Not even my dress! How come I don't know when we married, when you proposed, or how I even met you?" You then gestured to the front door, "And why the hell does he show up at the door claiming to know me? And why the hell does he look so much like you!? He had the same hair and the same suit! Th-the same eyes!" You paused, your chest heaving with emotion as you awaited his response. Your husband’s expression shifted subtly, a flicker of unease crossing his features before he composed himself.

"Darling, I think you’re overreacting," He said gently, his voice soothing yet tinged with an edge of caution. "You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. It’s understandable that you might feel confused."

You shook your head vehemently, your mind racing with unanswered questions. "I'm not overreacting!" You insisted, your voice rising despite your efforts to remain calm. "There are too many things that don't add up, too many gaps in my memory. Important things missing. What is going on!?” You felt like you were having an anxiety attack, “I feel like I am going crazy.”

Your husband sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly as he regarded you with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Darling, please," He implored, reaching out as if to touch your arm. "Let's not do this now. Susan will be here soon, and-"

"No!" You interrupted, stepping back to avoid his touch. "I need answers.” He hesitated, his gaze flickering towards the doorway where Susan's impending arrival seemed to be his only lifeline. You began to pace the floor, biting on your thumb nail as you stared down at the floor, concentrating; "I don't remember- There are too many gaps... He looks just like you... The same eyes... Oh, god, his eyes..." You continued to pace until you stopped. "He knew my name. He said my name." You realized, slowly looking up at your supposed husband, "What's my name?"

He scoffed out a laugh - as if what you said again was ridiculous, "I know your name, darling, we're husband and wife."

"Yeah, you say that, but for however long I've been with you, you've only called me 'dear,' or 'darling.'" You took a step towards him, "What's my name?" His laughter grated against your fraying nerves, his dismissive tone fueling the fire under you. Yet, you stood your ground, refusing to back down despite the uncertainty gnawing at your core. "What's my name?" You repeated, your voice steady but laced with desperation. "Tell me my name."

Your husband’s face faltered, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet the weight of your gaze. Silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken truths and the gravity of the situation unraveling before you both. "I..." He began, his voice wavering, but instead of answering, he looked away, his jaw clenched

"He knew my name," You murmured, a chill running down your spine as the pieces fell into place. "He called me by my name." The realization hit you like a tidal wave, washing away the illusions that had ensnared your mind for too long. You weren't the doting and compliant wife of your husband in Shady Grove. You were Y/N, a companion of the Doctor; a traveler of galaxies. 

~~~

Leaning against the console of the TARDIS, you tried to keep still - rocking on the balls of your feet - but you were excited to see where the Doctor was taking you next. You watched as he whizzed around the circular console, pulling levers and flipping switches. 

"Where are we going today, Doctor?" You asked, unable to stop a small smile from growing on your face as Doctor flipped the final switch, the TARDIS hummed loudly, and the lights flashed for a split second.

"We, my dear companion, are going to Xephus." He exclaimed, looking over at you, "I stumbled upon it a couple of decades ago. Lovely place, nice people."  

The Doctor started talking about the planet and its history. How it was a beautiful planet with lots of trees, animals, water, and so much food it would be impossible to eat it all. He continued talking about the beauty of the place and how it was similar to Earth. You admired him as he ranted, watching as the different expressions crossed his face; passion and excitement sparkled in his eyes at the mere thought of showing you another spectacular planet. 

It was hard not to admire him. The way he spoke, the boundless enthusiasm he had for every discovery, every hidden corner of the universe. You'd been traveling with the Doctor for what felt like a lifetime, each journey only deepening your affection for him. At first, you told yourself it was just admiration, pure and simple - respect for his intelligence, bravery, and endless curiosity - his overall zest for life. But, the admiration had developed into something deeper, something you were hesitant to acknowledge fully in the beginning.

But you accepted that you had feelings for him a long time ago. More specifically when he took you to a planet called 'Blimszarys.' It was a quiet, unspoken truth that had made its way into your heart, a warmth that spread through you whenever he smiled or took your hand as you ran from danger.

You came to terms with it, embracing the reality of your feelings without expecting anything in return. The Doctor was a being of infinite complexity, and you were just one of many companions who had shared in his extraordinary life. The thought of burdening him with your feelings felt selfish and unnecessary. He had enough weight on his shoulders.

Besides, being by his side was enough for you.

"Y/N," His voice broke you out of whatever trance you had been trapped within, seeing his eyebrows furrowed, and dark eyes staring down at you; confused. "Was I boring you?" He asked with a chuckle, and you quickly shook your head, feeling your cheeks flush from embarrassment.

"No! Of course not, Doctor. You could never bore me," You insisted, turning to fully look at him, "I'm sorry, there's just a lot on my mind right now." You gave him a reassuring smile, but the concern on his face still lingered. 

"Are you alright?" He then asked, "If you're not feeling well, we don't have to go. You humans and your human diseases, you never take care of yourselves properly." He huffed with faux indignantly, shaking his finger in your direction as he walked around the console.

"Hey, us humans certainly try," You protested, chuckling softly, following him around the console, meeting him by his side, "I am perfectly fine though. I'm not getting sick or anything. I just have a lot on my mind right now." 'You’re on my mind. You’re always on my mind.' You thought as the Doctor stared down at you, his gaze intense as they were whenever he was deep in thought. You just looked right back at him, a smile on your face, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

With a huff, seemingly accepting your answer, that brilliant smile of his returned and he threw an arm over your shoulders; bringing you to his side. "Alright right then! To Xephus! Allons-y!"

~~~

You remembered appearing on Xephus, feeling pretty excited to see the planet that the Doctor had discovered decades ago, and spoke so fondly of. You remembered leaving with the Doctor - hand-in-hand - as you both traveled through a large field of flowers, towards the town in the distance. You then remembered going off to wander the town on your own. At some point in your wandering, you remembered seeing glimpses of people in dark cloaks. You remember the feeling of their hands on your arms, the fear coursing through you as you tried to call out for the Doctor.

You didn't know what they did to brainwash you, and you weren't going to stay for anyone to try and brainwash you again. Staring at the man before you, he stared right back, but before he could do or say anything, you bolted. Running out of the room and out the front door, you stumbled down the walkway, past the sidewalk, and onto the street. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling as your eyes frantically searched around you. 

"Stop her!" You heard the man, who paraded around as your husband, your head whipping around to see him rushing towards you. Eyes wide, you continued to run, passing house after house; seeing men leaving their homes to chase you as well. Your labored breathing and your quick-beating heart echoed and pulsed in your ears as you passed the market; housewives, dressed in their fifties-themed attire, looked at you through the large windows oddly before going back to their shopping. Turning down another street, you frantically searched for any sign of the Doctor, weaving past an oncoming car - narrowingly missing it - as you frantically looked around for the Doctor.

Passing through two buildings - a barber shop and a diner - you pressed your back against the wall, trying to control your breathing as you quickly chucked off your heels. "She's over here!" You heard another voice yell, and you booked it. Running in between the two buildings, it spat you back out onto another street. You didn't look back, hearing the pounding of feet behind you. The large group of men - dressed in their suits and ties - were chasing after you; in reality, all of them were manipulating husbands. 

You ran until you reached another street lined with shops; only to then feel someone grab your arm and pull you into an alley. You were whipped around, your back pressing up against the brick wall of the apothecary shop. Regaining your bearings, you quickly recognized the hands that were wrapped around your upper arms. You knew those long and long and slender hands anywhere. His grip was a mix of gentleness and intensity; the warmth of them seeping into your skin soothingly. Looking up, you sighed - tears of relief burning the backs of your eyes. 

"Doctor, I-"

"Are you alright?" He interrupted, his voice gentle but urgent - his words came out quickly, yet clearly - though breathless from running and hiding; searching for you. Your well-being was his top priority. He waited for your response, his wide, dark chocolate brown eyes flickering over your face, before searching your eyes; looking for any signs of injury or distress. His furrowed eyebrows softened as he confirmed to himself that you were unharmed. If anything were to happen you...

"I'm okay," You spoke softly, still trying to calm your racing heart, "I'm okay," You repeated, your hands coming up to grab the edges of his light brown overcoat. “Right when I remembered, I ran for the hills.”

The Doctor let out a breath of relief. His hands fell from your arms, cupping your cheeks. Already looming over you, he bent towards you, shutting his eyes, and pressing his forehead against yours. Your own eyes fluttered shut, your grip on his overcoat tightening. The Doctor, internally, felt a pang of guilt rush over him. If only he stayed by your side. If only he kept an eye on you... This wouldn't have happened. 

His protectiveness was fierce. Every instinct screamed to keep you safe, to ensure that no harm would ever come your way under his watch. The very thought of you being hurt stirred a deep-seated fear within him, a fear that fueled his relentless vigilance.

"Stay close to me," He whispered, his voice a blend of tenderness and steely determination. His hands, warm and reassuring, remained on your cheeks as if anchoring you to him; as if he was reassuring himself that you were truly safe. That you were there with him, next to him, alive and in one piece.

At that moment, with his forehead pressed against yours and his breath mingling with your own, you knew the Doctor would fight against the universe itself just to keep you safe, and as you stood there in his arms, you knew that you were more than just a companion - you were someone he cared for deeply, someone he would protect with every fiber of his being.

"I don't think we can talk or charm our way out of this one." You softly spoke, opening your eyes as he pulled away; his eyes meeting yours. Suddenly, a loud piercing siren began to blare, startling both you and the Doctor; it sounded like an earthquake siren. "They have sirens!?"

"Nifty, huh?" The Doctor spoke, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity, "It's probably for those who try to escape."

"What are we going to do?" You asked, cupping your hands to your ears

Seemingly going back to his usual self, an idea formed in his mind. "Oh, you know, the usual." He spoke, flashing you a quick, mischievous grin. "Run like mad, avoid getting caught, and come up with a brilliant plan on the fly." You couldn't help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm. 

"Sounds good to me, just as long as we get out of here together," You spoke, and the Doctor grinned, taking one of your hands in his.

"Right then," He said, his eyes sparkling with renewed determination. "Allons-y!" He ducked his head out of the alleyway, peering left and right before leading you through an empty street, his pace quick and purposeful. As you ran, despite the chaos, the terrible siren went off. He thrived in these moments, where quick thinking and daring moves were essential. Finally, you reached the TARDIS, the blue box standing tall and resilient on the field outside of the town. The Doctor pulled out his key, the door swinging open just as your pursuers came bounding up the hill of the green field. "In we go!" He urged, practically pushing you inside before slamming the door shut behind him. He immediately began flipping switches and pulling levers, the TARDIS roaring to life. As the familiar wheezing and groaning filled the air, you leaned against the console, catching your breath. The Doctor, now back in his element, looked at you with a triumphant smile. "See? Piece of cake."

You laughed, the tension of the past moments finally melting away. "You're impossible," You said, shaking your head.

"And you love it," He replied with a wink, his hands still busy at the controls.

You felt an immense warmth fill you, engulfing you, and making your heart skip a beat as you smiled. You suddenly closed the distance between you and the Doctor, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He stiffened for a moment in surprise before relaxing, his arms encircling you in return.

"Thank you," You whispered against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "For getting me out of there."

The Doctor's hold tightened slightly, his head resting gently against yours. "Always," He murmured softly, the single word carrying so much weight behind it. And at the feeling of his soft kiss on the top of your head, you held him tighter, wanting to convey everything that was rushing through your mind at that moment.

Letting go reluctantly, you gave him a small - yet, almost shy - smile. "I'm going to change, and get these rollers out of my hair." You spoke, "I'll be right back." 

The Doctor watched you go, a small fond smile slipping onto his face. Watching as you headed towards your room that the TARDIS gave you. 

~~~

Sitting at the open doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor watched the death of a few stars. As he waited for you to return, he thought back to Xephus. The guilt of losing sight of you still gnawed at him. If only... No, he couldn't allow himself to dwell on what-ifs.

When you had both split up, he found himself wandering around town, near the shops. Xephus was completely different than it was when he first visited it decades ago. He remembered the planet to be like Earth, with Earth-like food, plants, animals, and people who lived there. But, instead of cottages, there was a town full of suburban homes, barber shops, and markets. Your words played out in his mind, 'It's like stepping into the nineteen-fifties.' For some reason, the Doctor had a bad feeling in his gut. 

Before he knew it, he couldn't find you, and the 'Elders' of the town of Shady Grove had taken him to their underground facility underneath the suburban houses. The Doctor stood in the dimly lit room, his eyes fixated on the screen displaying you, a shadow of your former self, dutifully fulfilling the role of a perfect housewife. His initial curiosity of why the planet had changed so much had given way to a burning anger, his normally lively features now etched with fury.

"Why would you do such a thing!?" He demanded, his voice echoing through the large room of metal walls and concrete floors. "What possible reason could you have for stripping away her identity, her memories, her life?"

The Elders, a group of stern-faced older men, exchanged glances before one of them stepped forward. His hair was graying, and his eyes were piercing. "We needed to create a harmonious society," The Elder explained, his tone measured and cold. "Individualism breeds chaos, and we have perfected a system where everyone has a role, a purpose. That was why Xephus has changed, Doctor. When you came here, we deemed your companion suitable for progressing our town. She was then chosen to be integrated into our community to maintain order and balance."

The Doctor's fists clenched at his sides, "Order and balance?" He echoed incredulously. "At the cost of her free will? Her autonomy? You have no right!"

The Elders remained unperturbed by the Doctor’s outburst. Another one stepped forward, his expression impassive. "Order and balance are paramount, Doctor," he stated calmly. "Without them, society would descend into chaos. Your companion’s integration was essential for the stability of Shady Grove."

The Doctor's fists tightened further, his knuckles turning white. He glanced back at the screen, his eyes narrowing as he observed the fake husband’s interactions with you. Jealousy tickled the edges of his mind, an unfamiliar and unwelcome emotion. Then, he noticed just how eerily similar the fake husband looked to him - his brown hair, sharp features, and charming demeanor. 

"Why does he look like me?" The Doctor demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

The first Elder, the one with the piercing eyes, replied with a faint, knowing smile. "During the brainwashing process, we extracted your companion’s subconscious desires and ideals. We created a husband based on her ideal partner to make her transition smoother and the illusion more believable. It turns out, Doctor, that her ideal partner is you."

If the Doctor was shocked, he didn't show it. He turned back to the screen, watching as the fake husband leaned in to kiss your cheek, a gesture that sent a sharp pang through his hearts. It was a bitter irony; you had been taken from him and given a life that mirrored what you might have desired, but it was a cruel mockery of reality.

The Doctor felt a mix of emotions, though his anger reigned supreme. The intensity of his anger rolled off of him in waves. "You think you've created the perfect society," He seethed, his eyes narrowed slightly. "But you've only created a prison. And I will free it! You won't hurt her, or anyone else, ever again." He stood tall, his jaw tightening, and his eyes darkening, "Enjoy your illusion of control while it lasts," He spat. "Because I’m going to dismantle it, piece by piece."

In short, it took three days for him to escape the cell they tossed him in while at the underground facility. Thankfully, he had his sonic screwdriver. It was also surprisingly easy to destroy their brainwashing machines. He then navigated through the facility’s labyrinthine corridors, his thoughts were solely focused on one goal: reaching you. Emerging from the underground facility - for some reason popping out of the barber's shop - he took a moment to breathe in the cool night air, the stars above a stark contrast to the artificial confines below.

And well, he found you, and he had hoped - deep down - that upon seeing him everything would come back to you, but it hadn't. Then your 'husband' got in the way. But, as he was getting led back to the facility, he escaped and hid in a nearby alleyway. But you were safe, you were in the TARDIS, not brainwashed, or injured. You were safe. 

However, what the Elders had said and showed him was bubbling in his mind. The Elders said that they created your ideal partner to help you believe in your new life. And your ideal partner was him. The Doctor let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He had always known that you admired him, but this revelation was different. It forced him to confront feelings he had buried deep inside. Feelings he had for you.

The fear was still there, gnawing at him. He was scared because of what had happened with Rose. Losing her had been one of the most painful experiences of his long life. The thought of starting a relationship with you only to lose you in the end terrified him. He took another deep breath, trying to calm himself. 

The sound of your footsteps drew him from his troubling thoughts, his gaze shifting from the stars and over his shoulder. You walked out of the hallway, dressed in your sweats. You ran a hand through your hair, free from the rollers; you had taken a shower. Spotting him, you smiled, walking over. The Doctor turned back to the stars as you sat down beside him. Letting your socked feet hang off the edge, you gently kicked them; your hands pressed at your side, palms against the grated floor. 

Turning your head, you observed the Doctor's side profile before speaking, "So, I have some questions," You spoke up, breaking the silence, and the Doctor turned, giving you a grin.

"What would you like to know?" He asked, and you huffed lightly, looking back at the stars.

"How long was I under their control?" You asked, a rough one right out the gate, but you had to know.

"Ah," The Doctor nodded his head, "Three days."

You snapped your head over to him, your eyes wide, "Three days?" You gasped. "It felt like forever. How did they make it seem so real?"

"Ah, well," He breathed out, "They manipulated your memories and created an environment that catered to your subconscious desires. Time felt different because they controlled every aspect of your perception." He spoke nonchalantly, masking his inner turmoil with his usual wit and calm demeanor. "I'm afraid they were quite crafty, those Elders. Manipulating time and memory like a magician pulling rabbits out of a hat," He answered with a wry smile, though his eyes betrayed a hint of self-disappointment.

You nodded slowly, absorbing his explanation while sensing the underlying tension in his voice. "It's incredible and terrifying at the same time," You murmured, your own emotions still raw from the ordeal. “Did you stop them? Whatever they were doing or using to brainwash people?”

“Of course,” He whipped out his sonic screwdriver, tossing it in the air and catching it, “They won’t hurt anyone again.”

You nodded, pleased, before you asked the last question on your mind, "What about him..." You began, feeling your face become warm as you glanced over at the Doctor, "Why did he look so eerily like you?"

The Doctor's smile softened, "Ah, that," He sighed, his gaze turning thoughtful. "Your ideal image of a companion, someone you'd trust implicitly, resembled me. I suppose they delved into your subconscious desires and found me lurking in there somewhere," He explained, his voice tinged with a mix of amusement and melancholy. "It's unsettling, I know," He continued, "But they used that resemblance to make their charade more convincing. They wanted to create a seamless transition for you, to make you believe in this fabricated reality they'd constructed."

You let out a small chuckle, making the corners of the Doctor's lips twitch, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing," You spoke, calming down to finish, "What a twisted version of reality."

"Yes, but you saw through it," He said, his eyes searching yours with admiration. "You broke free from their grip. That takes immense strength."

A faint flush warmed your cheeks as you met his gaze - his compliment practically turning you into mush. "Thank you." You shuffled, becoming slightly nervous under his gaze, your hand moving slightly, accidentally brushing against his, also pressed against the floor of the TARDIS.

The Doctor smiled warmly, "You're welcome," He glanced at your hands beside his, "And as for him," He added, his tone turning slightly playful, "Well, I suppose I should be flattered that your ideal partner bears such a striking resemblance to me."

"I do have impeccable taste," You teased, a playful glint in your eye as you met his gaze.

The Doctor chuckled softly, the sound like music in the quiet of the TARDIS. "Well, who wouldn't want an adventurer with two hearts?" 

"And that hair," You quipped, reaching up to tousle his hair playfully. "Definitely a plus."

Laughing in unison, you looked back out at the beautiful dying of stars, the bright colorful light reflecting off of your face and hair. The Doctor couldn't look away, captivated by the way the starlight danced across your features, illuminating your face with a soft, ethereal glow. He found himself mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled with curiosity and intelligence, absorbing the vastness of the cosmos with wonder.

"You know," He murmured, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "I've seen countless stars and galaxies, but none of them compare to the way you shine in their light."

Eyes wide in surprise, you stared at him, mouth slightly agape. His words were sweet but unexpected. You were not expecting him to say that, in such a way. You were so used to his charm, wit, and sarcasm, and yes, he complimented you more often than not, but with the way that he was gazing at you... It was different. Again, the intensity. His words left your heart racing, the beat of your blood pounding loudly in your ears. Your fingers twitched, desperate to reach out and touch him but you stopped yourself. You didn't even know what to say. 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse, your mind reeling with the weight of his admission. "Doctor," You finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what to say."

He nodded slowly, his gaze gentle yet filled with an intensity that spoke volumes. "You don't have to say anything," He assured you, his hand reaching out tentatively to brush against yours. "I just needed you to know."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers intertwining with his as you met his gaze. At that moment, surrounded by the majesty of the cosmos and bathed in the light of a thousand dying stars, uncertainty melted away. The Doctor's admission had laid bare his hearts, and in his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own feelings mirrored back at you. It reminded you of a song, oddly enough.

Unable to stop a giddy smile from appearing on your face, you let out a small giggle. "That is quite possibly the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me," You spoke softly, squeezing his hand.

The Doctor's cheeks flushed at your statement, unable to fight the smile on his lips. He was thankful that you hadn't let go of his hand; your touch was comforting, and his smile only widened as you shuffled closer to him. A soothing, bubbly warm feeling spread through his body as you then laid your head on his shoulder. His hand left yours before moving behind you, his arm enveloping you in his embrace. 

The sight of the stars dying, bursting into a kaleidoscope of colors, was breathtaking, but both of you knew they were insignificant compared to each other.

~~~

Main Masterlist | Doctor Who Masterlist

[11thsdoctress]

thanatophobia [11th Doctor x Reader Drabble]

(this can be read with 10, 12, or 14, but had 11 in mind when writing this.)

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

“What do you mean, this can’t go on?”

She asks as He was trying to find the right words for him to say to her, She was an amazing person, but He doesn’t feel like He deserved her.

“Look, I want you and all, but sometimes I feel that I couldn’t- I don’t deserve it.” He shakily confesses as the rain pours harder around them. They were under the rain in the forest, where the only sounds were the rain hitting the leaves and ground, the soft whirs of the TARDIS.

However, she looks at him as if nothing else mattered around her, She only wanted him, but the fear of losing him was far greater than her desires.

“I want you, so bad, sometimes I think it’s selfish for me to tell you the things I feel, or how much I want you and I to be a thing, but….” He sighs, “I just-…. I just don’t want to lose someone like you…”

For a singular moment, it felt like there wasn’t anyone around them, like they were the only people there, every raindrop, car engines, or people talking were simply muted.

“I….I don’t wanna lose you too.” She managed to let her words out, there were so many things She wanted to say, but every time She found the words, it felt like the words were trapped in her mouth, like her body was frozen, afraid.

He steps closer to her, as if being far from her was already a form of torture to him, he shakily moves closer, she was within his reach. He, ever so gently, slowly cupped her face, as if her face is a delicate piece of art that was priceless, yet, worth more than galaxies and stars beyond the system.

She feels his warm hand on the side of her face, she melts to his gentle touch, letting her eyes close as she just wants to feel the warmth and comfort of his hand on her face.

“…Let’s go home?” He gently sighs as he looks at her,

“Promise me one thing…” she says,

“what is it?” he asks,

“Don’t let me go…” She embraces him tightly,

“Never…I won’t make that mistake again…” he sighs as he held her as close as possible.

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

have this stale drabble that's been sitting in my drive for ages-

i will try to upload more but let's hope gjshfjsjd

[magiccath]

Psychic paper

tenth doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which the psychic paper betrays the Doctor

A/N: The Doctor is fruity, deal with it xx

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for a while now and you loved every minute of it. In that time he had shown you all kinds of things you had priorly deemed impossible; aliens with wiggly tentacles, a spaceship that defies the laws of 3 dimensional space, a buzzing device he calls the Sonic Screwdriver, and homicidal salt shakers with toilet plungers for arms to name just a few. 

It seemed that with every adventure he showed you something new and fascinating, constantly topping himself without even trying. There was so much in all of time and space it wasn’t that hard. Anything outside of the 21st century was new to you. 

This time, the Doctor had taken you to see a mechanics factory in the 35th century, but as always the adventure didn’t end there. Aside from new experiences, the Doctor could almost always promise some kind of trouble. He claimed he didn’t go searching for it but rather that it tended to follow him. Either way, most adventures with the Doctor involved some kind of mischief and usually a lot of running.

“It’s no good, you can only get in with an ID,” you groaned, popping your head back around the corner. “There’s a security guard checking everyone going in and out is an employee.” 

You were hiding in a hallway, hoping to get inside the establishment's headquarters. The Doctor had a hunch that malicious alien forces were behind the operation, but he couldn’t be sure without poking around further. Typical Doctor, he just couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“I can’t think of any legal ways to get in there,” you shrugged, turning to the Doctor for ideas. 

“I have identification,” the Doctor smirked, rummaging around in the seemingly endless pockets of his coat. 

“You’re not an employee,” you pointed out. 

The Doctor made a triumphant sound as he pulled what appeared to be a small black notebook out of the depths of his pocket. He flipped it open and you realized it wasn’t a notepad. The item was more like a police badge, minus the actual badge part.

He turned the paper towards you with a smile, clearly expecting you to be impressed 

“Aren’t I?” He grinned brightly, looking at you eagerly. “Psychic paper,” he explained, tapping the stark white paper with his finger.

You grabbed the item from him, squinting at it. You wanted to make sure you were reading it right, maybe your eyes were acting up. 

“This just says ‘I love you’?” You asked, handing the Doctor his weird paper back with a frown. 

“I think that flirting with the security guard is more of a Jack move,” you winced, not wanting to hurt his feelings. The Doctor was quite the charmer, but strategic flirting wasn’t his strong suit.

The Doctor grabbed his psychic paper from you, frowning at it aggressively. It wasn’t supposed to say that. 

“What-?” he asked, glaring at it the same way you did. Once the words registered with him he turned a dark shade of red. He should have been more careful when he handed it over to you.

“It’s not supposed to say that,” he mumbled his thoughts, trying to hide his fluster. 

“How does it work? Is it like a reusable notepad?” You asked, genuinely interested. Even if the Doctor’s tools could be finicky, they were interesting. Maybe he had just forgotten to erase the message from the last time he used it. 

“No, it’s supposed to show the reader what I want them to see,” he blushed, shaking the paper out like a Polaroid. Usually shaking the item would clear it, but those three words refused to fade from the paper. 

“Sometimes it’s a bit slow…” he said, really more to himself than to you. He was still shaking the paper, desperately trying to get the words to disappear. 

“So you were going to try and flirt with the security guard?” You frowned, now you were even more confused. The Doctor would much rather blow the whole place up than try and flirt his way through security. 

“No!” He said, almost a bit too quickly. He blushed again and averted his gaze, an anxious hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He hadn’t planned on telling you like this. He hadn’t planned on telling you at all.

“When I handed it over it was supposed to show you an employee ID,” he winced. You nodded, this much you knew. What you didn’t understand was the confession of love. 

“But I think the psychic paper picked up on my feelings instead,” he whispered. If you hadn’t been listening intently you might have missed the last few words. 

“Are you saying that you love me?” You frowned, looking at the floor with concentration, “or the security guard?” The second option seemed more viable at the moment.

For the first time in a century, the Doctor was speechless. He stared at you, wide-eyed and unblinking as you waited for his answer. If it was possible, his jaw might have fallen to the floor.

“He’s pretty handsome, I can’t blame you,” you added, peeking over the wall to look at the security guard again.

The Doctor shook himself out of it, rambling a string of incoherent words. “I- uh, wha-?” He stumbled, trying to form a sentence.

“I handed the paper to you.” He said definitively.

“It’s a really dramatic way to come out, Doctor.” You continued on, ignoring him. It’s not like you didn’t know already, he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“It didn’t say ‘I love men’!” He threw his hands up in distress. “It said ‘I love you’!”

You finally stopped rambling on about the security guard and turned your attention to the Doctor. His words caught up to you and tentatively you pointed at yourself as if there was any other you. The Doctor nodded exasperatedly as if to say “Yes, you!”

“You love me?” you asked, still pointing at yourself. 

“I think I’ve said it about four times now.” 

“You?” You pointed at the Doctor, “Love me?” 

“Blimey! Yes!” He shouted, frustrated now. You widened your eyes and anxiously checked around you, scared he might have given away your location. Thankfully, everyone appeared to be out of earshot. 

“Yes, I love you,” he whispered this time, his eyes boring into yours. You blinked slowly, your brain still refusing to process his confession. 

You smiled brightly, your grin taking over your entire face. The Doctor loved it when you lit up like this, your happiness radiating off of you. He felt a small smile of his own tugging at his lips just looking at you. 

“I hope that’s alright,” he whispered quietly. He would never forgive himself if he lost you over a psychic paper mishap. The embarrassment would be too much - he’d have to run away. Maybe to that planet inhabited by only rubber ducks? 

“That’s more than alright,” you grinned, a hand instinctively reaching up to his arm to comfort him. The fabric of his coat was cold against your palm, but you didn’t pull away.

The Doctor really smiled back at you now, the wild lopsided grin that was reserved just for you. The kind of smile that always made you laugh with joy. 

He wasted no time wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting your body off the ground in excitement. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. You laughed happily, waving your feet about slightly. 

The Doctor pulled back just enough to kiss you, his lips soft and gentle against yours. Neither of you could stop smiling, even as your lips met. You laughed against him, planting kisses across his face sloppily. Your lips brushed the tip of his nose, the arch of his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth, and his jawline.

“The security guard is pretty cute though,” the Doctor teased with a sly smile. 

“I knew it!” You burst out laughing, throwing your head back as you did.

[its-ya-girl-phoeni]

Silly fic idea: after suffering an injury to his head, Ten starts speaking with David Tennant's natural Scottish accent, and he and Rose (or whoever else you'd like) try to figure out how to reverse it

[simp-ly-writes]

For All Time

Paring: 10th Doctor x Fem! Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Many, Many worlds ago you were married to the Doctor. That was until a war tore your home planet and species apart and you were part of the lucky handful that managed to make your way out into the universe- alive. As you go through many regenerations of yourself, you run into the Master, an old friend of yours that you faintly remember. He tells you of the Doctor, warns you of your spouse and from then on, you are on a mission to never interact with him. Should be easy... right?

Warnings: 3300 words. Angst with no HEA. Themes of death. Depictions of Blood.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Doctor Who and I have only watched 12 hours worth of video essay's on the series. Please be kind and I hope you all enjoy~ :)

Masterlist | Taglist Request | edited.

You were terrified of time lords, the Doctor in particular and as to not be a hypocrite, you were scared of yourself- of everything you could fuck up for all time- that you already did fuck up for all time as the Master had already reported to you all those regenerations ago.

He told you of the horrors you made, the inconsequential decisions you thought to be just so now added up to a few hundred deaths on your hands as universe's threatened to collapse and the possible elimination of dozens of species painted your hands in guilt. Your finger nails pressing into your palms as you shook your head, trying to wring the statistics out of your head. But in the sliver of a smile, his dark eyes filled your thoughts as he placed a hand on your shoulder and leaned closer to your face, tears began to well up in your eyes.

You felt his breath on your neck as he brushed your hair away from your face, drinking up your tears while whispering in your ear, "But you haven't done the worst, love." He emits a small chuckle, his head knocking slighting against your own as you lean further back into the wall for support. "It is the Doctor that damned us all and yet we are the one's to be blamed, for everything, for all time, now and forever. He has killed millions, and nearly every little lover he calls companions he takes on his tyrannical adventures."

Your voice meek, throat clogged with tears as you sniffle for air, "I thought I was the only one, old friend... I thought that- that-"

"From what I know..." he cuts you off, taking a step back, allowing you room to breath as your legs give out from underneath yourself, your back falling against the wall before you are sat on the floor. Your fingers picking away at the grout between the tiles as you count the tiles of the room, doing your best to blink away the tears. "... its just the three of us and if I can offer you a tidbit of advice form one friend to another..."

He stand at full height, leaning down to lift your chin, that sliver now a toothy grin as his fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing your lips together, his eyes flash over to them before continuing his eye contact as you wince at the force he handles you with. "...continue to run away from us all." He drops your head, as if your skin burned his own and by the time you gain the momentum to look up once more, there are no traces he ever was here- he ever exist, a mere fragment of your imagination. You pick yourself up the floor and take his advice to heart.

--

So thats how you found yourself, sat underneath an umbrella in early spring within France. You and your Tardis concluded the time to be the mid two-thousands as you tried not to let the everlasting smell of piss on the streets keep you from enjoying an early brunch.

You watched as various tourists rolled themselves out onto the streets, snapping hundreds of pictures with their digital cameras, kids pointing at various things in storefronts, leading their parents chasing after them. A small smile casted upon your features as you listened to their little feet run across the cobbled streets, cheering loudly at the sweets in the window.

The Sun begins to peek out from between the clouds as you cast your gaze down to escape its shinning rays sneaking underneath your cover. Taking a sip of your now ice-cold coffee, you jolt in your seat, unaware that it was yourself who clattered the cup to the plate, trying to set your drink down. Dropping your shoulders down, your cheeks warm as the kids from earlier snap their heads towards the noise as you begin to pat your pants dry from the spilled coffee.

You swear lightly underneath your breath, your book-ruined and the liquid threatening to ruin your pants as well. Taking a napkin from the holder, you pat yourself down before opening the book in your lap, trying to air out the pages.

But soon the book and outfit become the last of your worries as your ear twitch to the familiar mechanical wizzing sound of what could only be a Tardis. Sweat instantly forms in your palms, your eyes dart around the streets, looking, watching, waiting for his arrival. You hate to admit that the panic holds yourself still, strapped to this very chair to witness the horror about to be unleashed yet all these humans appear none-the-wiser to their upcoming demise.

And when you think all those tears you shed were now buried away yet new ones burn your vision blurry as you grip the table in wait. What of the children, the families, the lives of them all? Your brain presses, kicking into hyperdrive, asking yourself if you are ready to die. But what will he do if he finds me? And your mind goes blank, incapable of thinking of what tortures you would endure.

So you present yourself human, plastering a fake smile, bright eyes as silent tears run rivers down your cheeks. Your breathing staggered just like your hearts, threatening to exit your body and make a life for themselves. It would be better to die, you convince yourself, the words echoing through your soul, it is better to die, die, die.

--

It feels like lifetimes move as you await his presence, eyes casting down the various alleyways, ears pointed for the sounds of agony and screams in his pleasure for universal domination. "He's killed millions," the Master's voice whispers into your ear with the breeze following by the sound of two beating hearts.

It was hard to miss the way your heart slowed, matching the breaths in between his own. His steps organized in the crowd surrounding him as a woman follows just behind his every step. His hair caught you first, its frazzled appearance as if he dragged his hands through the roots a few hundred times yet no stress coated his features, not a single wrinkle or crinkle besides a smile that has you loosening your grip on the table.

His direction leads him closer towards the coffee shop you sit in front of as a child runs across his front, stepping on one of his sneakers, an involuntary gasp escapes between your painted lips yet the Doctor takes no attention nor comment to them, simply continuing his way through the crowd. You hear his voice above all the afternoon commotion, his accent catching you off guard, "Say Donna, have you ever seen Paris or the South of France? I must say that this tower of theres is nothing in comparison to some of the future civilizations I've seen, I should, I will take you to one in the future or well, when we are done here."

The woman nods along to what he says, biting her lip, a knowing smile growing across her features as if she is cooking up a line to fire back, "Well the last time I was here was with you but we didn't really get to have a getaway besides running from those martians trying to KILL US! This is much better, oh!- did you see that woman's sandwich! How about lunch?"

Your eyes are wide as she tilts her head in your direction. You embody the appearance of a deer in headlights before swiftly unfolding the newspaper on the table, doing your best to read the various headlines with plausible interest.

The Doctor hums thoughtfully, looking to where Donna's eyes had landed, his eyes narrow in of the outrageously large paper that covers your face as he leans closer to Donna, "is that newspaper big, or is the woman just small?"

Donna laughs, knocking her shoulder with the Doctor as he shuffles back, head tipped down into a playful glare. "Well, spaceman. In comparison to you, anything appears larger than life."

"Do you want that sandwich or not?" The Doctor responds, eyes already bored and looking at the various other shops and people on the street, subconsciously looking for a threat to ruin the day.

"Well, yes-"

"Then lets get you that sandwich," and with that the Doctor is taking large strides up to your table. Curiosity brimming with excitement to uncover whoever was behind that paper. His heart rate began to climb, the walk now a light job as Donna wondered whatever has gotten into the Doctor.

--

You tense in preparation, saying your grievances underneath your breath as the man reaches forward, ripping the newspaper that had gradually been pressed closer to your face as he leaned closer to you. You pick up the book in your lap, spreading the pages wide open. Wincing once your fingers trace up the spine, finding a new crack upon its surface- that too is torn out of your hands.

In a childish effort- you close your eyes, hands racing across the tables surface before feeling the soft material of a serviette. Your plate clatters against the wooden table as you rip the cloth from underneath, waving it in the air to unfold it and subsequently into his face as he audibly complains. Swiftly opening your eyes, you look through the thin material, tracing over his blurry outline and hard-to-reach features while leaning back as far as your chair allows you too. Your feet hooking under the tables legs as only two chair legs hold you from toppling over.

The man huffs, his chair scraping against the pavement in a horrifying screech as your tableware clatters to the floor, bits and pieces of porcelain scraping across your leather shoes and socks. He peers over your napkin, eyebrow raised, brown-eyes peering to see your wide ones. You watch as his other eyebrow races to match the other, a small gasp escapes between his parting lips with fingers brushing against your own. He steals away the last of your cover, casting it aside to a nearby empty table.

The Doctor leans closer to listen to your hearts beating rapidly in your chest as he casts a hand down to feel his own. By the time he looks back up at you, a charming smile has one threatening to spread across your face but the Master's words make it fall the next moment as the Doctor gently clasps your hand between his own, taking the seat behind himself, pulling you forwards to sit level.

"Hello, darling," he whispers out, unsure if you are truly you as he awaits your answer. He squeezes your hand, ushering you to respond. You hate the way the pet-name makes you feel, the memories that flood your mind and all the time in between. A moment passes between you both before an approaching fiery-headed woman shifts your attention away from one another.

"DOCTOR? DOCTOR! What in the hells do you think you're doing?! Harassing this poor woman- oh I apologize dear, I have no idea what gotten into him today. I don't want that Sandwich in particular, just any sandwich!" Donna shouts out in the Doctors face. You wait for her to take him by the ear like a tired mom yet she smacks him on the back of his head as he drops your hand to ease the oncoming bruise.

With this distraction you quickly stand, throwing an unknown amount of currency on the table before darting down the crowded Paris streets. The Doctor curses underneath his breath lightly, "You don't understand, Donna!"

"What don't I understand? You going after some random human, is she a past companion or something?" Donna asks, eyes casting towards your empty seat that the Doctor glares at.

"Thats my wife!" The Doctor outbursts, grabbing your book and paper in hand before darting off after you, Donna running swiftly after the spaceman. "YOUR WHAT?!" Donna screams out between breaths.

"MY WIFE!"

"Don't you have five of those already?" She teases but the tone is peaked with genuine curiosity.

"Well yes- no. I don't know, they were the first!" The Doctor stumbles the words out, mind a fumbled mess at the sudden shock of you.

"The first, wait. Are they..." Donna's steps come to a halt as the Doctor casts his head back, steps slowing as they regain their breath, he hands your book and newspaper to Donna who holds onto the materials tightly. "...a time lord?"

"Yes..." the Doctor says in a remorseful tone. "....Yes, they are."

--

You lost where you last parked your Tardis as you turn down road after road, cars honking as you interrupt the traffic in your maddened dash. You keep your ears peaked for the two intruders to your centuries of peace. Your mind running a mile a minute for a plan that you assure yourself to be thinking of on the fly as you take another sharp turn, flying into someones arms.

They grip you still, smelling of aftershave and coffee with a dash of honey. You take in a deeper breath, curious to find the undertones before a chuckle has you pulling away, blinking rapidly as they hold onto your elbows and pull you into an empty shop under construction. You curse when seeing those familiar brown eyes, your hands drifting over the soft fabric of his jacket, feeling the small rips and seams before pulling away. Dusting your hands off on your pants, he moves his touch up to your shoulders, giving them a light shake.

"Why are you running, is there an emergency? A planet being overtaken, a universe about to explode?" He rattles off various answers for your selection yet you chose to remain silent. Ripping yourself away from his touch, you watch as his hands flex, itching to hold onto something, to someone, before he reaches into his jacket pocket as you do the same.

Two sonic screwdrivers are presented, shoving the glowing end into one another's presences. The door slams open and shut once more as Donna casts her arms wide and behind herself, blocking any potential escape. "Alright, lets gets things settled here, we don't need to me shoving our sonic screwdrivers at each other now!" Donna announces.

You wait for the Doctor to drop his first, eyes following as his hand open, his movements slow as he guides the technology back into his coat. He nods towards you, beckoning for you to do the same, your hands shake as you press it into your pant pocket for easier access. The Doctor raises a brow to this, looking back at Donna who's sights are set on you with pity.

The Doctor takes a step forwards, you shake your head, hands raised, your voice cracking, "You. Are. A. Monster! A Monster that has destroyed lives! You are in the midst of ruining another just now. If you would PLEASE just let me walk away I can promise you that I will do nothing- a personal moral of mine-"

The Doctors eyes gloss over, memories flash over himself. His arms feel heavy, shoulders slumping forwards as he remembers holding what he thought to be the second-to-last time lord in his arms, the Master as he died- unwilling to regenerate. "But here's the thing, I don't want to just 'let you walk away,' not with how I lost the last one- not when I am so close again to what could be," the Doctor pleads sincerity, his heart shattering at your words he knows a part to be true. But to hear them coming from who he surly believes to be you, it cuts him wounds him as you continuously step away from him as he nears.

The pain, the fear in your eyes, dictating your speech, he wishes to comfort you, hand raising to capture your outstretched one yet you quickly press your hands back into your chest. Right above your heart as it covering it for an attack. Donna sternly voices the Doctors name causing the man to pause in motion. Feet posed for another step, hand outstretched in a welcoming fashion, palm stretching outwards.

"Exactly. What COULD be. Couldn't have said it better myself, Doctor," you spit his name out, copying the Master's tone. "I'd say it even makes things easier on the both of us. Now please, let. me. go. Or better yet- kill me! Kill me right here, right now! I know you want to so just DO IT!" you scream out, words chocking on tears as you cough, hunching your form over. You feel so small, so hopeless as you look over to his companion, silently asking for her to convince him.

"No," the Doctor states firmly, hands now gripped into fists as he struggles to articulate his next words, looking over at Donna for support.

"Then I am sorry," you hush out softly before jumping up with all your strength as you cast a right hook across his nose. Blood pours over your knuckles as you fling your hand to remove the bodily fluid form your skin, making a mad dash towards the door.

You shout an apology to the human companion, having to shove 'Donna' you remember her name to be, out of the way and make your way back onto the streets. The Tardis had to be close, you think to yourself- the feeling in your gut starting to swell alongside your knuckles as you hissed through the pain, flinging yourself back towards your on-the-go home and pressing towards a random position. Pleading towards the console, anywhere but here, but now, with him- please.

--

"Wa-" The Doctor began to say before gripping his noise, casting his head upwards to try and stop the onslaught of blood. Tears cascaded down his features, creating a mess across his face as the liquids dropped down to his collard shirt and suit, staining the material for good.

Donna watched your escape through the window, you paid no mind to turn around, to take one last look no matter how hard your shoulders tensed or your neck tilted until you were out of sight. Shaking her head she walks over to the Doctor, reaching around in her pockets for a napkin as she presents the thin cloth to him.

The Doctor mumbles a thanks, beginning to wipe away at his face from his reflection in the glass. The air in the room is depleting as the Time Lord struggles to choke down air from the weight heaving in his chest. Donna rubs his back, watching as his back tenses before settling yet he refuses to look at her, only looking at the direction you fled in.

A few moments passes and the Doctor and Donna had yet to move form their positions, in a light tone, nervous to cut through the heavy silence too swiftly, Donna softly speaks, "You alright?"

The Doctor stands to full height, tissue dropping to the dirty floors beneath as he kicks away a loose bunch of screws. "I'm always alright." The Doctor nods- as if hyping himself up. He begins to make his way towards the door, looking back with a hand outstretched once more.

Donnas heartbreaks then and there as the spaceman smiles at her. She can see the pain in his eyes, the remnants of tears still in the corner of his eyes and the small sniffles he does his best to hide. She softly grasps his hand, giving it a squeeze. She listens to the breath he lets out shakily before leading them back out the door and in the opposite direction of you.

↳ A/N: what did you think? :)

[dinofromspac3]

Hi! Could I have 10,11 and 12’s reaction to alien reader? Perhaps realising their supposedly’human’ companion is very obviously in a human form. And that they aren’t themself, human?

I’m thinking maybe they convince reader to show their alien form more, or etc in general!

Maybe have readers alien form have yk, multiple arms? Or multiple eyes!

Sorry if this is to specific!

I absolutely love this idea! I sort of made into head canon form, I hope you don’t mind<3

Also, thank you for being my first request!

Enjoy <3

(also I think I may have only done what you actually asked for 12… oops)

Doctor Who Masterlist

10th Doctor

You’ve been traveling with the Doctor for a while, and you feel like he’s opened up to about some pretty serious stuff.

You’re happy that he’s come around to trusting you, but you can’t help but feel terribly guilty for hiding your true identity.

You were a Stask. A shape-changing lifeform that allowed you to pass as human for many years.

Your true form, however, was a grey-skinned, six-eyed, humanoid, with long white hair.

The longer you traveled with him, the more it ate away at you. Until one day, you couldn’t hide it any longer.

You left your room on the TARDIS and went to find the Doctor. He was easy enough to find, he was almost always in the console room. And if he wasn’t he was usually in the library.

“Um, Doctor?” You spoke up, calling his attention to you. You were nervous. What if he hated you for this? No, you mustn’t dwell on such things.

“Y/n!” He replied enthusiastically. He took a few steps towards you, but stopped in his tracks when he saw your face and your stature. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I… I have something to tell you,” you expressed, as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“What is it? What happened?” He pressed, growing more concerned.

No matter how many times you stammered, and started over. You just couldn’t seem to get the words out.

He stared at you, his face full of worry. He could tell something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure why. And didn’t like not knowing.

You took a deep breath and did the only other thing you could think to do. You changed back to your true form, right in front of his eyes.

Your hair went white, and your skin back to its dull grey that you never liked. It was one of the reasons you never stayed in your true form.

His eyes went wide for a moment before his face scrunched up in total confusion. “What?!”(WOT!?) He exclaimed.

“Please don’t be mad!” You winced at his reaction, holding your hands out in front of you.

“You’re a Stask,” he pointed out the obvious, clearly dumbfounded by it all.

“Yes…”

“But-but-but what!?” He said again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you began dejectedly. “I understand if you want me to go.”

“Go? Go where?” The Doctor asked. Seriously, after one big shock, it takes a minute for his brain to reboot.

You just shrugged.

He shook his head, sympathetically. “No, I don’t want you to go.”

“Really!?” You felt your heart swell at that. He didn’t want you to leave, he was just a bit surprised.

11th Doctor

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for over 2 years now. Ever since he saved your life when you were trapped on that 54th century space shuttle.

The crew was human, so you’d disguised yourself as a human to avoid awkward stares. As your true form had deep violet skin, 5 inky black eyes, and pointed ears.

Your species was called Anziks. Of the many shape changer races in the universe you were not one of them, however, your people had the most advanced Shimmer technology in 3,000 neighboring galaxies. It was almost undetectable and much more comfortable than most others.

Of course, you had been wearing one when the Doctor found you. And you had been wearing it since, only taking it off when you were alone in your room on the TARDIS.

Often on your adventures you’d make passing remarks or jokes about how “humans are silly” and remembering things from your home planet. The Doctor never seemed to notice, at least he didn’t let on that he did.

Even with Anziks’s advanced Shimmer technology, it still got stuffy and little difficult to breathe after wearing it for a long period of time.

Today it was particularly bad.

The Doctor was rambling on about something, you really couldn’t say what. You had dismissed yourself quickly, heading straight to your room.

Immediately when you entered your room, you dropped the shimmer, and your deep indigo skin faded back to view, along with your ears and eyes.

You could’ve sworn you shut the door, but the next thing you knew you turned around after taking a breath, only to freeze completely, like a deer in headlights.

The Doctor stood there, a strange metal box he was holding, clattered to the floor.

“Doctor!” You practically screamed, as you quickly put the Shimmer back on, hoping somehow he’d forget.

But it was no use, he’d seen it. You’d been caught.

“Y/n?” He sputtered out, pointing at you. “No! No, no, no, no!”

“I can explain!” You blurted. “I swear I can explain! P-please don’t be angry!”

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak several times, each time with a new hand gesture, but he wasn’t really making any progress on saying anything.

You sighed, still feeling a little like you were choking in your Shimmer. And so you dropped it again, allowing the Doctor to see you how you truly looked.

His mouth snapped shut as he gaped at you.

“I don’t know why I hid it,” you admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“S-so y-you’re a-a-a—“ he stammered.

“An Anziks,” you finished for him. “I’ve been wearing a Shimmer. At first it was just for the job, to keep people from staring at me.”

“Then… we got stranded, and hunted by those Kruuls…” You explained. “and then you came and rescued me and I… there just wasn’t a good time.”

“I see,” he said, his face still slightly pale from the unexpected news.

“Are you angry with me?” You asked, hopeful he would say no.

And to your delight, he shook his head, and relief washed over you like a warm blanket of water.

He smiled and said, “It’s just nice to finally see you.”

12th Doctor

You’d only been traveling with the Doctor for a couple of months.

He was strange, and wonderful and kind, but still you were nervous to tell him your secret.

Today, you decided to confess to him, before the lie went on for too long.

You walked into the TARDIS console room, where he was reading a book on the second level. He noticed you come in but he didn’t look up.

“Doctor,” you said, taking a few more steps toward him. “I have something to tell you.”

He still didn’t look up. He licked his finger, and turned the page of his book. “Okay,” he said.

You let out a sort of shaky sigh at his aloof attitude. “Doctor, I think you should put the book down for a moment. It’s a bit… serious.”

He looked looked up at you, realizing how serious you were being, and decided to close the book as set it on the table next to him. He waited for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, before looking back at him. “I am… not human.”

He stared at you blankly, and you cringed at what that could mean.

“That’s it?” The Doctor asked, taking you completely off guard.

“W-what?”

“I mean, no offense, Y/n,” he continued. “But you’re not exactly good at hiding it.”

Now it was your turn to stare blankly at him. He’d known? How long had he known?

“So tell me,” the Doctor smiled at you. “Where are you from?”

“I…” you started, wanting to question him, but instead answered his question. “Scravikos 5.”

“Ah, Scravikos 5,” he repeated warmly. “So, you must be hiding that lovely second set of arms then?”

“Um… yes,” you said, still completely dumbfounded that he knew all along. “H-how long have you known?”

“Oh, I knew right away,” he scoffed. “It was very obvious.”

“But… you never said?”

“Why would I?” The Doctor questioned.

You shook your head, and shrugged. “Because I lied to you, I suppose?”

“Oh really it was nothing,” he waved off your reasoning. “How long have you had your arms tucked away?”

“About 8 months,” you responded. You had crashed landed on Earth a few months before you met the doctor, and you’d hidden the only thing that was your dead giveaway that you weren’t human.

Well, that must be terribly uncomfortable,” he sympathized. It was a little, and you silently tilted your head in agreement. “Well, you don’t need to hide them here,” he said, urging you to be comfortable in your own skin again.

“Oh, you mean…” you started, eyes wide in surprise at his acceptance, although truly you weren’t sure why you were surprised. He just nodded.

At that you allowed your second set of arms to sprout out of your back. With them out again, it felt instantly easier to breathe.

The Doctor smiled, and you smiled.

And you never hid them again, save for a few choice time period adventures.

[queerminalminds]

im thinking of some rlly kinky one shot shit when watching these scenes i used 😭🙏🏼 follow me on TikTok if u want @mattsearrings