#If I Could Turn Back Time

[eightiesgalaxy]

1989

[soulinkpoetry]

You deserve all the warmth a sun has to offer.

.

.

[borrowedtimeandspace]

A Hard Day's Night

Honey

From this list of g/t prompts

Part 2 of 2. [Part 1]

AU: The Donna Trilogy side story; set during the interlude, 'If I Could Turn Back Time'

Note: I think I've decided this will be added to Tales from the Vortex, since this doesn't directly affect the events of IICTBT. It features a character that will be introduced in that story, but I think adding it to the interlude will interrupt the flow. I do love it though and it's canon to the story!

~~~

Not wanting to stare, Dan set about re-stacking the cans remaining on the shelf so they wouldn't tumble like that again. He could practically feel that tiny, intense stare as he casually moved things that must have been incredibly heavy to the much smaller man.

Dan did a double take when he removed the last few cans and found something in the gap behind them. Leaning in for a closer look, it looked rather like a tiny knapsack. Though, to the man who Dan reckoned to be about five inches tall, he supposed it was rather big. Wide set and half full, with a packet of honey strapped to the back of it like campers’ equipment.

Cutting his eyes back over, the man’s posture had completely tensed up now that Dan had found what must be his belongings.

Dan held his breath as he reached for the bag and pinched the corner of the honey packet. It was tied down tightly enough to take the bag with it when he lifted it up. 

“Oi!”

“Just bringin’ it to ya,'' Dan murmured, awed to find that the little pack was hardly any heavier than the honey would be on its own. It really put the world from this man's point of view in perspective for Dan. He could only imagine how long that honey would last for someone so small.

He gently carried it over to the man, who sent him a suspicious look but snatched the pack out of his fingers. Dan took his hand back and returned to what he was doing, shelving cans and checking the ones that fell for dents. As he did, he watched the bloke out of the corner of his eye. He turned over the knapsack to inspect it for damage or disturbance before carefully sliding it under his knee to take pressure off his injury.

Soon enough the cans were no longer a distraction from all the questions Dan had about this fella. Anybody would be curious about him, where he came from, what exactly he was if not an alien, why he was so small, how he could heal from injuries so fast. They might pester him about such things while he was laid up, unable to evade the interrogation very easily.

Not Dan Lewis.

“Low on food, are ya?” he quietly prodded.

The way those tiny shoulders stiffened and the man continued to avoid eye contact told Dan he'd hit the nail on the head. Dan gave a small smile anyway.

“You're in the right place if you are. Plenty of food here that'll last ya a while. Y'know, I think we've got some pastina that just came in, should be perfect for ya. Hang on.” 

With that, Dan pushed himself up to stand, and did his best to ignore the stomach-sinking feeling of completely looming over the bloke who definitely had wide eyes on him now. He strode quickly to the shelf he'd been stocking to find what he'd promised. The box was small enough to find easily among the other pastas, so it didn't take very long at all to find. Dan peered through the little viewing window in the box to see the teeny-tiny star shapes of the pasta within, and nodded to himself.

He was surprised to make his way back to the little fella to find that he'd managed to stand. His weight wasn't quite on his injured leg yet as he leaned against the nearby can, but he seemed to have tracked Dan's movements since he walked away. That was a guess on Dan's part, considering the way those cobalt eyes were glued to him. 

Taking a knee by the shelf once again, Dan carefully opened the box and angled it in such a way that the pasta was carefully shifted to just meet the short end. Then he held the box against the shelf's edge so the man could inspect the offered food.

After more suspicious glances between the pasta and Dan, he gently insisted, “Well, go on. Y’don’t have to take it, but it won't bite youse.”

The man puffed up a bit at the implication that he was scared, and so limped the few steps toward the box. One tiny hand reached in to scoop up a fistful of the pastina to look at it more closely. Indignation seemed to melt into bafflement as he pinched one miniscule star shape between his fingers. It was just about the size of his eye, which was quite small indeed.

“The hell…?” he muttered.

Thinking it might be something new for the fella, Dan explained, “It's pasta. It's all hard and tough now, but it softens up when ya boil–,”

“I know what pasta is,” snapped the man, but his tone wasn't quite as sharp as before. “Just never seen any like this before.”

Dan blinked and did his best to hide the amusement he could feel tugging at his features. He rather liked the wee fella’s attitude, now that he was seeing more of it.

“If you want it, take as much as ya like,” he offered. “It'll keep for ages. I think it's good in soups if you can cook it down in some broth. Add whatever ya like to it, then…”

He trailed off awkwardly, finding himself once again locked in a sidelong stare from the bloke. Less wary than the others, though, Dan noticed. This time, he looked bemused.

Before Dan could read any further into it, the guy shook his little head and tossed his handful of pasta back in the box, muttering something too quiet for Dan to hear. He untied something from his belt and rolled it out to reveal a drawstring sack about the size of his torso. Still grumbling, he held the sack near the box and swiftly scooped up enough pastina to fill it.

Dan moved the box out of the way once he seemed to be done, hefting the miniature bag to rest on the shelf as he cinched and tied it securely shut.

“Name's Dan, by the way,” he finally introduced himself. Or tried to, since the most acknowledgement he got was a flat glance from the man as he turned to pack the full pouch into his knapsack. Dan noticed his limp had nearly gone, and he didn't seem to have any trouble crouching with weight on both of his legs. That had to be a good sign!

“Alright in there, Dan?”

Wilma's voice calling in through the door sent a jolt through both men. The smaller one jumped to his feet, knapsack still in hand. Once again he was tense from head to toe, and it didn't take a genius to guess why. He'd been wary enough with just Dan around, but to add another human into the mix would make anyone so small feel completely outmatched.

The desperate, almost pleading look sent Dan's way sealed the deal. He gave the fella a subtle nod, then rose to his feet.

“Alright,” Dan replied to Wilma, stepping away from the shelf and toward the open door where his resigned associate was turning the corner. “Didn't get very much unpacked, though. Whatever whoppers ya had in here before us stacked some cans all creatively, been cleaning up after ‘em.

The look of resignation that carried over from the conversation Wilma had been having over the phone melted into an amused smile. “Kids these days gotta have their art,” she shrugged.

Dan grinned and made his way back to the food left to unpack, glancing between the shelves toward one in particular. Only the cans were left, with no trace at all that a tiny man had been standing there moments ago.

“Finally taking something home, are we, Daniel?” Wilma prodded.

He blinked at her, but his “Eh?” caught in his throat when he realized he was still holding the opened box of pastina. Thinking quick, he nodded.

“Seen a few recipes for this stuff, thought I might give it a go,” he said sheepishly.

Wilma gave a resolute nod and stepped past him to pluck something from a different shelf. “That'll go nicely with this chicken broth. Catch.”

She tossed the container his way, and he just managed to snag it out of the air while keeping his grip on the pastina box.

“I expect to hear all about this tasty meal of yours next time I see ya,” she asserted with a look that was kind yet brooked no argument.

Dan decided it was best to simply nod and accept it. Ever since he started volunteering, Wilma tried to get him to put aside his pride and bring home something for his own admittedly-bare pantry. His cover-up for the strange encounter he'd just had seemed to give her the green light to encourage him even more strongly.

“Alright, Wilma,” he sighed, his way of thanks. “I'll take these home.”

[amc-minx]

The good ol’ days. 😍

[beargyufairy]

If you're lonely, come be lonely with me

[touching-grass-is-not-enough]

There is not a day that goes by that I do not reap the repercussions of watching ouran high school host club at the ripe age of twelve

[madeinkorea-blbambeyond]

MADE IN KOREA

KIM HYE YOON

BYEON WOO SEOK

SONG JI HO

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

Ineffable Husbands/If I Could Turn Back Time (Cher)

[justplaincher]

stunner

[admiralgiggles]

I’m a special kind of corny.

[holdenreviews]

If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Ad Perpetuam Memoriam

AU: The Donna Trilogy | If I Could Turn Back Time

Note: Farewell, Ten...

Not a ton of actual g/t in this one, as per usual in If I Could Turn Back Time. More of a recontextualization of Ten's regeneration.

~~~

Burning.

Everything inside, burning like the sun.

It was all the Doctor could do to contain it all. He'd held it in for as long as he could. Now it was coming for him. To take him away, and replace him with some new man.

He'd done his best to make the most of his remaining time. That was his reward, after all. Getting to say goodbye.

And he had, in his way. Seeing faces that had been all together not so long ago, now scattered across time and space. Doing good and living their own lives.

For most of them, he hadn't said a word. Not because there was nothing to say, but he was never one for a proper goodbye. In his mind, this was better. Saving Martha and Mickey. Introducing Jack to another familiar face. Even protecting young Luke from harm and being able to wave goodbye to his dear Sarah Jane one last time. 

It got more complicated as he held a copy of A Journal of Impossible Things and stood in line to meet and have it signed by the author.

Verity Newman. The great-granddaughter of Joan Redfern, the woman whose heart he inadvertently broke when she fell in love with his human persona back in 1913.

Whether he meant to or not, the Doctor had hurt Joan in one of the most painful ways possible. In John Smith, she had found a love deep and profound, and had no way of knowing that his life was not only false, but fleeting by design. The Doctor was a living reminder of that fact. 

That's why he couldn't bring himself to visit her directly, even though it would have been easy enough to do in the TARDIS. He had no doubt that seeing him again would do more harm than good. At best she would turn him away, as she had done so long ago, before he could get one word in.

No apology in the universe could satisfy that hurt.

What was almost worse was that, as he waited his turn to speak with Verity and have her sign a copy of the novelisation of Joan’s journal, she wasn't the only person on his mind.

Ever since he started his farewell tour, he had at least a vague plan for how to visit everyone he wanted to see. For Joan, this was the best he could do. It wouldn't make amends, but would at least acknowledge what he did wrong. After this signing, he had an idea for an indirect goodbye for the Nobles. And though he couldn't cross universes to see Rose one last time, he still had opportunities to at least glimpse her in the past.

And there was still one person he was incapable of seeing again.

He did his best to push that thought out of his mind. The man in front of him was walking away, and it was his turn to see Verity. She and Joan deserved better than absentmindedness in that moment.

~~~

The wedding was beautiful. Well, what little the Doctor saw of it from the outside, in the aftermath of the actual ceremony. Donna and Shaun were glowing, showered with flower petals in the pleasant spring breeze. 

When the Doctor managed to catch Sylvia Noble and Wilfred Mott's attention, he was sure to keep the conversation with them short, yet meaningful. He simply gave them the gift he'd brought, and explained how he was able to come by it. 

A small token from Sylvia's late husband to give to his daughter on her wedding day. 

He stuck around long enough to see it given to Donna. She had no clue about the weight it carried, but her mother and grandfather could silently appreciate it. After everything he and Wilfred had gone through that Christmas, saying goodbye to him and Sylvia felt just as important as saying it to Donna. Even if he couldn't say so directly to her without risking her safety.

Wilfred had been a rock for the Doctor in the time leading up to the end. Out of anyone on the planet, he was the one who managed to hunt the Doctor down fairly quickly, and right when he needed someone. 

At first it was just good to have someone to talk to again. Traveling alone was starting to take its toll. With the foreboding feeling of his death hanging overhead, he'd had nobody to open up to about it, nobody who might even begin to understand what that meant for him.

“I'm going to die.” Four small words that had felt like a cold anvil resting on his hearts.

He knew Wilf was well-meaning when he brought the Doctor to a cafe close to where he knew Donna would be. Hearing about her life without him was bittersweet. She'd gone back to living as an ordinary human, struggling as the rest of them did. Engaged to a friendly-looking man, sharing that ordinary life with him. And yet something within her was aware that she’d lost something, and yearned for it without knowing what or why.

Still, it meant the world to the Doctor to see her again.

Then Wilf had to go and ask him. “Who have you got now?”

“No one,” the Doctor had to answer.

“What about…” Wilf had trailed off when he glanced to the Doctor's shoulders, the breast pocket of his jacket, and found them both empty. Looking him in the eyes once more, that emptiness was present there, too. Wilf's heart sank. “Did something happen to the little ‘un?”

The Doctor's jaw clenched at the reminder. Memories crashed over him like a wave before he could do a thing to push them down. A horrible man pointing his device toward the only friend he had left to travel with since Donna had to go. Calling Zepheera's name just as the device fired, a shot of blue light engulfing the inches-tall woman and leaving nothing behind.

It hadn't killed her, but to the Doctor it might as well have. It had displaced her in time and space, and he had not a single lead as to where or when she ended up. 

If she were human, hunting her down would have been difficult but potentially doable. Like finding a needle in a haystack. But she was a borrower; not only small in stature, but hard-wired to survive by remaining hidden and not making waves. It turned the search into finding one particular mote of dust in a haystack the size of a skyscraper on an empty and uncharted asteroid floating in the Void.

“Lost,” the Doctor finally managed to tell Wilfred. “For good.”

Wilf's face fell. “Oh, I…”

“Traveling alone, now,” the Doctor pressed on before Wilf could get out his condolences. Feelings and memories now swirled around him in a maelstrom, and he was struggling to bring them to order. But maybe they needed to come out.

Right then, there was nobody he trusted more with his vulnerability than Wilfred Mott.

“I thought it would be better alone.” At this, he broke eye contact. He couldn't hide the shame in his expression, in his voice, as he admitted, “But I did some things that went wrong.”

Mars was still fresh in his mind. The water creatures overtaking Bowie Base One. Knowing full well that the demise of the crew was a fixed point in time, and being unable to resist sticking around and helping them anyway. Only to ultimately decide that he was through standing by any more when he could do something to change it.

Because who in the universe could stop him if he tried?

He learned the answer to that when he brought the few surviving members of the crew back to Earth. As he reflected on his attitude back then, the way he spoke to them and especially Adelaide…talking her up as an important figure that he'd managed to save from her established fate while waving off basically everyone else as little people. It made his insides clench in hindsight.

Donna would have given him a smack for that kind of talk, if he was lucky. And Zepheera… If she'd heard that, she'd probably never speak to the Doctor again.

And in the end, it hadn't ‘fixed’ anything at all. Adelaide still died, and her legacy remained largely unchanged. The Doctor hadn't accomplished a single thing in his act of arrogant defiance.

He thought that traveling alone would mean that he couldn't lose anyone else. Instead, he realized then that it just meant the only person he had left to lose was himself.

“I need–!”

At that point, the Doctor cut himself short and buried his face in his hands. He could feel the floodgates weakening, and finally made an effort to rein himself in. Wilfred wasn't asking for him to dump all those emotions on him at once, and breaking down in the middle of a cafe did no one any good.

Not him. Not Donna. Certainly not Zepheera.

Though they split off shortly after that, having Wilfred around for the journey to come had been a balm. The Doctor had someone to talk to, someone with ideas that weren't his own. More than that, he cared for the Doctor and had his best interests at heart when the Time Lord could only focus on the daunting tasks at hand.

He was almost surprised when Wilfred's response to learning that the Doctor was over 900 years old was to reflect on humanity in comparison and remark, “We must look like insects to you.”

Oh, no. The Doctor could never look at them that way. Least of all after he'd experienced traveling with someone like Zepheera.

A large part of his travels were taken in through the eyes of his companions. They were the ones with fresh perspectives on things the Doctor took for granted. On occasion, his human friends could help him realize the enormity of his decisions and actions. With Zepheera, it was a daily reminder of that. She found the strength and bravery to face a universe greater and wider than even humans could perceive it. 

The Doctor had even managed to find a way to literally see things from her point of view, and that was in the forefront of his mind as he regarded Wilfred fondly and replied, “I think you look like giants.”

She would have loved this, thought the Doctor as he looked back on Donna's wedding festivities. Seeing Donna so full of joy on the happiest day of her life… It was a sight the Doctor wanted to remember for the rest of time. He only wished Zepheera could have been there to see it, too.

And wherever and whenever Zepheera was, he wished for the same thing he had for Joan Redfern. That she was happy in whatever life she'd made for herself.

The Doctor's work was done here. He could feel himself running out of time, and he still had one more stop to make. But he was so reluctant to leave this place. Especially considering what came next.

~~~

There was no stopping it. The Doctor knew that painfully well.

Already the regeneration energy had begun to flow from his hands, even as he piloted his ship into orbit. He barely paid attention to the time he set it to, simply determined to not start whatever new life that waited for him in 2005. He couldn't risk changing anything that happened with Rose before it even began.

It wasn't fair.

That thought turned over and over in his mind. This face, this life, was still so fresh. He'd only had it a handful of years, and to have it so quickly snuffed out… Sure, he'd done quite a lot in that time, but it still felt all too fleeting. Barely a blip in his 900 years.

He could still hear himself shouting to absolutely nothing and no one, “I could do so much more! So! Much! More!” That feeling was still there, but the anger had largely settled. Now it just made him sad, seeing the end so rapidly encroaching on him.

The worst part was that he was well and truly alone for it. Rose had been there when he'd changed last, hers was the first face he saw with fresh eyes. Even when he'd sort of regenerated with the metacrisis, he'd had Rose, Donna, and even Jack there with him.

Now the TARDIS, the one place that felt like home, was so terribly cold and empty.

The Doctor could feel the heat rising, spreading from his core. Soon it would take over every cell in his body, rewrite everything that made him himself.

He wasn't ready. None of this was right.

“I don't wanna go,” he uttered, sounding so small and helpless even to himself.

No one was there to hear it. He felt no comfort or warmth in his final moment. Only the burning of a sun as his vision turned gold.

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

Seeing your reply on the HP books, what disappointed you in DH? What would you have changed in it? Less deaths?

On HBP and why I didn't care for DH: get ready for a long post/ran that the tl; dr version is: *it makes narrative sense but not logical sense and I wanted both*

I didn't *love* the intro of the battle of the seven potters, to begin with. Obviously I know that we needed some introductory action to get going, and what's better than a battle where both Hedwig and Mad-Eye die? Even warriors die, childhood ending, etc. It makes *sense* for the narrative, but not in-world. Just make an illegal portkey. Apparate, ffs. Put Harry under the invisibility cloak, side-apparate him to Diagon Alley, and then re-apparate to a safe house, if you want to avoid the trace issue. Or illegal portkey that noise because Harry's already wanted and so are the others. Remus would've been a great pick. Everyone hates werewolves. (and ok, I get why they did what they did, because Snape put it in Mundungus' ear to keep Voldemort's trust, but also, it just seems like shoddy thinking it through, JKR's inconsistencies drive me crazy).

Grimmauld Place and Yaxley. Ok, so this is also going back to JKR inconsistencies. If Snape was Secret keeper (as were all Order members after Dumbledore's death) why wouldn't Voldemort just ask Snape for the location and ambush them? But ofc Snape is protecting Harry, there's that tongue-tying thing so Snape couldn't say, I suppose, but still. Part of me wonders why Hermione didn't try to obliviate Yaxley, or stun him, and then ask Kreacher to come with them so they wouldn't starve. Kreacher would've been delighted to hunt for horcruxes. Or why Hermione didn't apparate them to nowhere first, shake Yaxley off, and THEN go to GP? But again: hero's journey has to be alone, character development, whatever. I'm just saying it doesn't make sense.

Camping: so boring. Harry Potter and the Haunted Camping Trip. Pass. I get it; it's boring to them, it's boring to us, it's dry, it's dull, it's reflecting what the characters are going through. But at the same time, why didn't they call for Kreacher? Or Dobby? And why did they wear the locket when they could have shoved it in the beaded bag, put a sturdy string around that, and worn the beaded bag around their necks? Give them some kind of protection? Sigh. It's for narrative purposes, not sense-making purposes. Or give us more deaths during that process, they come across some cool dead bodies of Muggleborns and it freaks them out.

The deaths: ok, let's start with my clear frustration with Remus and Tonks dying (for narrative purposes, I also get, orphaned child, last Marauder is gone, Tonks is young and dies early like Alice Longbottom, whatever). Andromeda Tonks is left with Teddy. Wtf, did JKR forget that Andromeda existed when she killed Remus and Tonks off? Did she realized she killed a whole family? What? Narrative purposes, I say to myself, but also want to scream.

I would've had more deaths, but different ones. Instead of Fred, I'd have killed Bill and Molly. Fleur would be newly pregnant and not know it, so Victoire would still exist, but Bill dying would bum everyone out, and have a fatherless child. Then Molly--just imagine Arthur without her. Do it. Kill the next closest mother figure Harry has. Have Neville kill Bellatrix instead, but make it more of an accident. Ron will kill Nagini. That's the stuff right there. Or hell, get Andromeda Tonks all up in there, have HER kill Bellatrix, and die in the process. Leave Tonks with her little family. Oh, and as an added kick, set the epilogue only a year later, have it be Arthur's funeral because he died of sadness or whatever but things are looking up elsewhere.

That epilogue. While I'm ok with it giving us the Potter kids and Tedoire, I would have loved to have left it to the imagination. You know what would've been good? Arthur's funeral, but have all the canon couples be together as engaged or newly married, Fleur's holding fatherless Victoire, and Arthur is joining his oldest son and his wife in the grave. Lupin and Tonks are there with Teddy and then they go see the Tonkses' graves to put flowers there or something. Remus wasn't really a father figure to Harry but Arthur was. Kill all the real parent figures. Get Vernon and Petunia in the ground too just for shits and giggles.

Anyway. That turned into a much bigger rant. I was more or less dissatisfied with the how of everything, a little bit of the why, and I like the how and why to be congruent. Why things made narrative sense was fine enough, but let me scream about how dumb the camping trip, secret keeper rules, battle of seven potters, and screech about Remadora.

at the end of the day they're all fragments of fiction that are vehicles to tell a story, and while I understand the story that was ultimately told, it doesn't mean I like the ending or that I think it was satisfying for the saga that came beforehand.

that's what fanfic is for!

[beargyufairy]

Slipping through my fingers all the time

I try to capture every minute

The feeling in it

[luciferscowgirl]

Guys, I just posted a new chapter to my most famous fic, “If I could turn back the time…”!!

Lemme know what you think. Hehe. 🤭💓

CW: angst, smut.

“Christmas is a mess, the Cardinal receives agonising news and you revel in the bliss of living in the moment. Or do you not?”

AO3:

Wattpad:

[yikes-00]

So I cannot tell you the insane joy when I got the alert the time travel au had been updated. I haven’t read it yet because I have to read it all over again from start to finish!

I hope this means life is treating you better for the long haul. Welcome back even if it’s just for now - you’ve been missed 💜

SOBBING!!! You have no idea how much this means to me😭😭 I’m sorry it took SO LONG! But it’s done now and I hope you enjoy the 48k angst ride🩵🫶🏼

You are very sweet. Lots of love, friend🫶🏼🩵 I hope you’re having a good night/day!