#first the shaking off of ryan and graham

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

11x9 is like the most touchy episode its kinda nuts how much theyre touching like this is more in one episode than all of the rest combined

[quietwings-fics]

in the meantime

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Doctor Who Ship: Gen (Thirteen & the Fam) Additional Tags: Gender Identity, It/Its Pronouns For The Doctor (Doctor Who), Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Doctor (Doctor Who), Coming Out, Friendship Wordcount: 1,845 Summary:

The Doctor clarifies its gender.

It's disoriented.

Really, it's the height that gets it first. The Doctor's been tall for centuries now. Bad enough running around high on regeneration energy, trying to save its new friends, but with half the legs it normally had? And it's still getting used to that. There's always an inch between where its hand is and where it should be. It adjusts to looking up rather than down at most everyone when it talks to them. Graham and Ryan are around to practice that on, and Yaz is around to remind the Doctor of how nice it was to easily look down its nose at people, once.

And if it focuses on all of that, then it doesn't have to think about the other thing. 

Which works until it doesn't. It's over (four-point-five billion) two thousand years old; it should know better by now.

"There, see, she's always cooped up in here." The Doctor looks oddly at Graham. It isn't sure where else he expects the TARDIS to be but within-throughout herself. "You should really get some fresh air, Doc. Without the threat of death attached to it." The Doctor stands on the console platform and fumbles the greeting it carefully prepared while waiting for its companions. Friends. Fam. It rises on the balls of its feet without the words coming back, and then it turns back around to the safety of the TARDIS console to find different ones without having to look at them. She dispenses a helpful biscuit. The Doctor doesn't have to speak with its mouth full.

They say she, they mean me, it taps the console in rhythm with the saying. They say she, they mean- The word is poking into its lungs and making it hard to breathe. Footsteps left and right, and even without a greeting, they all seem comfortable coming back. Good. They should be. It wants them to be. This should be like their home, too. They say she- The Doctor inhales biscuit.

The next few seconds consist mostly of coughing and nearly not dodging Ryan's intended-to-be-helpful knock against its back to stop said coughing. He doesn't try a second time, and as it shakes off the sudden biscuit assault on its esophagus, it catches his apologetic look. Ryan's very good at the not-touching bit. They'd all probably be good at it, if it said anything, but it didn't and doesn't and likes too much that Ryan started noticing on his own without being told, (enough to silently bear it and wait for Graham and Yaz to catch up, too.)

"You alright?" Yaz says. The Doctor looks from her down to her hands folded against the TARDIS, sees the right index nail chewed shorter than the rest and adds a tally to how many times it's noticed that. The count is thirteen now.

"I'm really more of an it," the Doctor says because of that. Then, like an olive branch, it offers, "but you can call the TARDIS she. She's always liked that." Not one of its Fam looks like they know what it's talking about. It pauses, tries to remember which parts of this conversation have been out loud and which have only been in its head (most of it), and realizes they have every right to be confused. It would be confused, if not for the permanent residency it has inside itself. Semi-permanent. It's been a weird life. "When referring to me," it clarifies. "It. Like"—stars and planets, ghosts and relics—"biscuits. Or, biscuit, singular, you'd call multiple ones 'they', and that's not right anymore. For me, not for the biscuits."

It had no idea how harsh that pressure against its lungs was until it's gone in a rush. A popped balloon.

"What?" Yaz says. It's what they all want to say—At least, judging by their expressions, not something the Doctor's ever skilled at doing but it's better with these eyes than the last pair, it thinks.—but Yaz gets there first.

The Doctor sucks in a breath to try to keep the pressure from reasserting itself. "It," it repeats. "It. You keep saying she, but-" It doesn't like being on the back foot like this, so it switches, pinches its mouth. "You didn't even ask. It was rude." It feels good, for a moment, to see someone that isn't itself reel, but then it remembers that it's Yaz, and she's just trying to understand, and now, she looks like she thinks she's failed the Doctor. It draws back in on itself. "No harm done," it says, raising its hands, back to smiling. Smiling's good, smiling sets people at ease, and it's an easy set of muscles to control. Yaz is already relaxing again. No harm done, Doctor, no harm done, it reminds itself.

"This has to do with how you said you were a man before?" Graham ventures. The three of them always say that like they still don't really believe it, and it really isn't sure how that's the difficult bit, between the time travel and the TARDIS and the aliens. Maybe it's because it keeps saying it. Humans... Twenty-first century? They usually keep those things secret. The Doctor doesn't see the point.

"I made an alright man," the Doctor says. "Not sure about how I'm doing now, though. It's new. Am I a good woman, Yaz?" It looks at her, the moment the words leave its lips, and for a moment, Yaz is not Yaz, Yaz is big eyes and a familiar smirk and Clara-my-Clara. Only for a moment, and then she's just Yaz again. Yaz, sort of frowning, sort of pained looking, like she's swallowed something too large and got it caught in her throat. The Doctor is about to clarify that it wouldn't choke her with a question like that, that it's older and wiser and knows the answer is no nowadays anyway. It's only asking about genders, which shouldn't be as hard.

"You've-" she starts and never finishes the thought. She tries another one. "You're doing okay?" Yaz is lying to it. The Doctor decides it won't notice.

"Thank you," it says, smiling at her.

"It's not the sort of thing you get 'good' at," Graham says. "It's not a competition." It frowns at him until it parses out that tone. He has no idea what the Doctor is talking about, but he means it kindly.

"Of course it is," the Doctor says, and it looks- Oh, it snaps its head away from the empty corner of the TARDIS fast and hard enough to hurt, but it was looking for her, waiting for her laugh, waiting for her to agree. "Just not one I've ever won. When other people are judging." There wouldn't be any doubt who the winner was if she was here. But she's not.

"Doctor," Ryan asks, "are you not a woman?" His voice is not his voice. The Doctor blinks. You know that, Bill. The Doctor blinks again. Ryan is waiting for an answer—because he doesn't know—and the Doctor tries to think through the Bill-shaped words as they bounce inside its cranium, only each time they sound less like Bill and more like steel and- 

"No. Yes. Ask a different question," it demands, too loudly for the room and too quiet to hear itself inside its own head. Ryan's eyes dart to Yaz. The Doctor would welcome her voice, too. Any voice. Anything at all.

"If you're not a man or a woman, you'd be..." Ryan glances at Yaz again.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" she asks. He immediately turns his gaze away, flustered. The Doctor shuts its eyes and lets their voices fill up its head.

"I thought you might- Who else am I supposed to look at?"

"You could ask me," Graham says. Ryan and Yaz both turn to him. "I didn't say I knew, but you shouldn't assume-"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor interrupts. "I'm just the Doctor." It wants that to sink in first, so it might avoid some questions. "The label you're looking for is"—It pages through a collection of words, narrowed by species, by language, by decade.—"nonbinary."

"And you're..." Ryan still trails off without saying it, like he's afraid he'll do something wrong.

"No," the Doctor says. Thinks. "Sometimes. I'm better at that than some of the others."

It might be easier for them if it had said yes.

It wants to be understood. These things stand in opposition to each other.

But it knows. Allowances must be made. Baby steps. Room for mistakes.

It runs fingers over the TARDIS console. "Don't say she. We can start there." The weight settles on its lungs again, but less, bearable, for now. It hears Ryan inhale, but no response forms. It hears Yaz tap her nails, bitten and not, on the console, without arguing.

"No, we can start with what you want to be called," says Graham, quite certain of himself. The Doctor meets his gaze.

"It," it says, one last time. It doesn't mean that to be a challenge, and it doesn't think Graham hears it as one either. But it is.

"It," he repeats, and he does a funny thing with his mouth, snapping his expression between his certainty and the sudden stumble of what it's asking of him and back again to the determined stubbornness to follow through on a promise. "That'll take some getting used to. No more than the rest of you, Doc." The Doctor wants to take Graham's honesty, keep it in a bottle, and shake it to hear it rattle around. It smiles with no need to soothe anything or put anyone at ease.

"Really?” it asks. The challenge is gone. What’s left isn’t disbelief because it knew, eventually, at some point, they’d all come around to this. It’s just surprised that it’s this easy. Nothing’s ever this easy.

“Of course,” Yaz jumps in, sounding more sure of herself than the nervousness in her eyes betrays.

“Granddad’s right. It’ll take a bit, but I’ll get there.” Ryan fixes the Doctor with a look, one that pins it and holds it steady in a way that’s very hard for anyone to do. “And we’ll catch on faster if you’re telling us when we get it wrong.” 

“I was planning to,” it says. It wasn’t. 

Ryan believes it and drops that look, possibly without ever knowing he managed to see through the Doctor so clearly.

It glances between its Fam one last time. It stops itself abruptly when it realizes it’s biasing it’s own data-seeking, more prone to stiffening its spine at the hint of what might be a scowl than seeing how bright all three of them are looking at it.

Acceptance, acceptance, it will one day stop being a stranger. 

"Good," it says. "Good!" It closes off that part of the conversation and tucks it away, handled. It returns to perfectly stable ground. "You want fresh air? I know a city in the clouds, can't get fresher than that. The planet's surface is all seas, so..."

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[yesokayiknow]

do you have anything more about the bigeneration au for 12 and 13, I'd love to hear what you think their dynamic would be.

-they take great delight in confusing everyone any time they can. twelve calls thirteen old man and thirteen calls twelve young woman and it makes them laugh every time. while they love the fam equally thirteen tends to end up chatting with graham and (badly) playing footie with ryan while twelve does yaz's nails and hair and it's nice that they don't have to force themselves to do activities that don't feel right

-twelve actually tells the fam things! like still not a lot but at least they hear the name time lord before like a whole year has passed lmao. thirteen really fucking hates it. he's like tough. stop trying to be unknowable bitch. he (pretty vaguely) tells graham about river and the three of them just sort of sit together sometimes reminiscing

-while they generally are pretty chill they also have a competition on who can explain the most things the quickest. every time something new happens they're like standing in the corner visibly shaking waiting for the fam to pick one of them to explain. thirteen starts the points system just so she gets picked more often, and then twelve starts composing little tunes for whoever asks the smartest question. the fam think it's adorable

-twelve convinces yaz & ryan to go to uni. thirteen's like we don't really have time and twelve's like There Is Always Time For Education. unlike thirteen, who would literally die if left alone, he's always trying to gently encourage the fam to have lives outside of the tardis. he's also trying to convince thirteen that being alone's okay at times (it's not going well)

-twelve's still lecturing at st luke's in his spare time (though it's harder, without nardole and bill and missy). whenever he's having a particularly bad day thirteen turns up to his lectures and shouts corrections. he will never ever admit how much it amuses and distracts him

-they still fall out sometimes, because who do they hate more than themselves? they both can be pretty condescending and impulsive and it turns out that it sucks to be on the other end of that. thirteen refuses to take care of herself in a way that borders on obsessive and hates when twelve tries to keep her safe; twelve tends to isolate himself for days upon end and hates when thirteen tries to drag him back into sociability. they usually keep these arguments away from the fam. the first time they really really lose it at each other in a public space is when they first encounter the cybermen. it takes. uh. a while to get back into a good place after that

-twelve mainly gets frustrated with thirteen more than the other way around because she literally refuses to show any pain or negativity Ever until it all explodes. this is partly because a lot of the coping mechanisms she instinctively wants to use are little quirks they started doing due to the loop in the confession dial and she doesn't want to trigger him. when he realises this he's like i'd rather you tapped out the seconds when you feel trapped than yelled at all of us actually.

-sometimes twelve's like hey you're going all cold and weird again. go kick something. and thirteen's like fuck off and then she goes and punches a cushion and yells into a black hole and comes back later like thanks you were right. and sometimes thirteen walks into a room and takes one look at twelve and walks right out and goes and gets his guitar and chucks it at him and after like five hours straight of playing he's like thanks man i really needed that

[desired-misery]

Expanded RE4R Survival Fic | Leon's POV

...

Leon keeps his gaze locked on Ryan’s as the man looks away, his eyes darting off for a second before returning to meet Leon's. Ryan clasps his hands together, unable to hide the nervous tremor with the gesture, but tries anyway to settle his ruffled feathers. 

“You’ll be briefed very shortly. But first, I need to stress the importance of security: nothing that happens from here on out will be repeated anywhere, do you understand?” Ryan’s face is creased with worry as he leans forward to stress his point. Tiny beads of sweat glisten on his forehead and cheeks, caught in the light as a slight sheen across his pale skin.

Something is really going on. Ryan must know Leon's security clearance level; he isn't privy to everything, but his clearance level is nothing to scorn.

Leon nods. “I do.”

Satisfied, Ryan stands up. "Alright, let's not keep him waiting."

Abandoning his coffee, Leon has to lengthen his stride to catch up with Ryan's quick pace down the hall again; the man can really walk fast without appearing to be doing so. He waves Leon through no less than two sets of doors guarded by openly armed marines. Ryan makes a sudden right, pushing open a door himself while yet another pair of soldiers stand guard outside. Leon doesn't have time to reevaluate where he thinks he is underneath the White House because Ryan motions Leon into the room with urgency.

"Agent Leon Kennedy, sir," Ryan announces— to the president, who is standing right there not three strides into the room, at a distance that doesn't give Leon any time to do anything before the President of the United States is shaking Leon's hand with both of his.

"Agent Kennedy, thank you for coming," President Graham says, serious, with an edge of anxiety that Leon picks up on as soon as he looks Graham in the eye.

"Of course, sir," Leon says— like he was asked— as if he has even agreed to anything but of course he will, it's not like he has ever had a choice.

...

[regenderate-fic]

Blooming in the Bitter Snow (Right Before the Dawn)

Fandom: Doctor Who Ships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan Rating: General Word Count: 3,636 Other Tags: Revolution of the Daleks, References to Greek Myth, Doctor Who: Flux, Character Study, Pre-Relationship

Read on AO3

Summary: After ten months, the Doctor is like the sun: too bright to look at. Yaz knows this will happen again-- but then, the Doctor knows too.

NOTES: this is a birthday gift for katniss but i guess the rest of you can read it too. it is also retribution for getting me into hadestown. anyway happy birthday ❤️❤️❤️

(and shoutout to gabe riptheh for betaing if it's bad you have to blame him for not telling me)

title is from hadestown

(hehe note from december felix katniss and i saw hadestown and it FUCKED. don't ask me about reeve carney do ask me about grace yoo)

1.

Yaz is stuck.

Yesterday, she had the universe.

Today, she has Sheffield. 

It’s not that Sheffield is bad. Yaz had always lived here, and it's always been fine. She used to like it here, even. Back when she was younger. Back before she knew there were any other options.

But now— there's nothing wrong with Sheffield. It's just not where she wants to be. 

She’s back living with her family. Sonya’s taken over her room, so she’s living in Sonya’s, with its awful orange paint and childhood belongings scattered about. 

It doesn’t matter, though. Yaz is never home. She’s not at work, either— she quit her job a month ago, in linear time, but it feels like years. 

The thing is, though, the stolen, unfamiliar TARDIS has become home and work, as far as Yaz is concerned. At first, it’s because Ravio and Ethan are living there, and Yaz is helping them get sorted with a job for Ravio and a school for Ethan and a proper place to stay for them both— every cell in her body is screaming, Find the Doctor , but Yaz forces herself to focus on the people right in front of her who need help before she goes off in search of someone else. It’s what the Doctor would do, after all.

But then Ravio finds a job, and then a flat, and he and Ethan move out to start their new lives on Earth, and Yaz is stuck. Ryan’s finally gotten a job as a mechanic, and Graham is settling into retirement, but Yaz can’t move past this: the stolen TARDIS, offensive in its blankness. The Doctor, currently defined by the space she’s left behind. And the question: why hasn’t the Doctor come back for her?

Ryan keeps trying to suggest jobs she could get. A social worker, he says, when she’s helping Ravio and Ethan get on their feet. Or a teacher, when she explains Earth history to them. It’s the day the two of them leave, when Ryan suggests Yaz go to school to become a psychologist, that she snaps. 

“I’m not giving up on her,” she says, but her voice rises until says becomes shouts, her boots planted on the firm white floor. 

“All right, then.” Ryan raises his hands in surrender. “Don’t bite my head off. Just, you know, it’s not all or nothing. You can look for her while you do other stuff.”

Yaz shakes her head, single-minded. “I have to find her.”

Ryan stares at her for another moment, and then he shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says. “We’ll be around.”

He doesn't offer to help. Yaz doesn't expect him to. Her relationship to the Doctor is— it's different. Ryan and Graham joke around with her, jumping from adventure to adventure. And Yaz likes the jokes, likes the adventures, but— she also likes the late nights wandering the TARDIS until she finds the Doctor in her workshop, tinkering away, and sits on one of the benches as the Doctor narrates her work, occasionally looking up and giving Yaz a bright and earnest grin. She likes the serious moments, when the Doctor meets her eyes and, somehow, makes a tough situation a tiny bit better, just by acknowledging it. She likes seeing the Doctor every day, just knowing she's around. She still can't quite quantify why exactly her relationship with the Doctor is   different from Ryan's, but she knows, keenly, that it is. 

Ryan leaves, and Yaz gets to work. She's seen the Doctor pilot the TARDIS—she’s picked up a few of the basics. This console looks completely different, but she thinks she recognizes a few of the levers: not well enough to launch herself into the vortex, and definitely not well enough to choose where to land, but well enough that she has a place to start.

The next day, she goes out and buys a pack of sticky notes, three different colors of paper, and rolls of tape. 

At first, it’s almost fun— through the haze of her determination, she vaguely processes the joy she usually takes in a good puzzle, having a problem in front of her to solve. She identifies as many of the controls as she can, marking them with sticky notes, taping her notes up on the walls. 

It’s only after she’s identified everything she can that the hopelessness sets in. She’s labeled twelve different buttons and levers, but she’s only sure of three of them, and there are countless more. Time travel is complicated, she knows, and dangerous, and it’s already been three months without the Doctor before she’s even managed to start this project. Linear time is ticking away, and the rest of time, the convoluted path only the TARDIS can navigate, remains elusive.

But Yaz can’t give up. She can’t bear the thought of it: going back to her normal life, finding a job she only sort of didn’t hate, leaving the Doctor behind. Especially when the Doctor could be in trouble, in need of the rescue that Yaz is desperate to provide.

So she keeps going. Methodical, she goes lever by lever, button by button, categorizing, speculating, experimenting. As long as she doesn’t hit the lever that’ll actually launch the TARDIS, she figures, she’ll be fine, and so she lets herself poke and prod, taking constant and careful notes. 

(It’s pointless. She knows, deep down, it’s pointless. Either the Doctor will come back or she won’t, and there’s not much Yaz can do about it. She’s no Time Lord— she doesn’t know how to pilot a TARDIS. Not really. But if she doesn’t keep trying, she’ll sink deeper into her grief, and she can’t bear the thought. So she tries, again and again, a high-tech Sisyphus, pushing her rock up the hill until it falls.)

Weeks pass. Months.

Every day, Yaz misses the Doctor more. 

Ryan and Graham are still worried about her. Her family are worried about her, too, and doubly so because they don't know the truth about the Doctor or time travel or anything else— they only know that Yaz is looking worse with every passing day.

She can’t bring herself to care. She feels numb, dead to the world, anytime she’s not working on the TARDIS. She’s already written off this time— when the Doctor comes back (she has to come back), it will be like this never happened. It will be ghost time, time that passed, but didn’t.

And then, just when Yaz is sure she can’t bear it any longer, there’s the Dalek. Instantly, Yaz shifts her focus: it’s the same as before, with Ethan and Ravio. Even with her burning, desperate need to see the Doctor again, the safety of other people— the safety of the world — comes first.

She’s at Ryan’s and Graham’s kitchen table when she hears it. The most wonderful sound in the universe. Papers are blowing, Yaz’s hair is coming loose, and her eyes slip shut. It feels like she’s ascending, being lifted up through the fog that’s overtaken her in the last ten months— walking up from the Underworld, ready to see the light of the sun. 

When she opens her eyes, the TARDIS is there. Steadfast, blue, letters glowing gently. 

The door opens.

Yaz is so close to the daylight—

But the second the Doctor steps out of the TARDIS, the second the Doctor’s eyes land on her, her hope crashes into anger, and she’s fallen right back down onto the dirt. 

“We were worried about you!”

Ten months. She’s been waiting ten months. It’s felt like the longest winter of her life— and now she’s red hot, burning with the fury of having been left behind.

Even if it’s not the Doctor’s fault.

Even if she knows, full well, the TARDIS is unreliable. 

Even if under all the fury, there’s a quieter warmth, a warmth she’d been taking for granted back when the Doctor was around, blooming in her chest and skating across her skin.

(The fury dissipates, somewhat, when she brings the Doctor into the blank white TARDIS, when she sees the Doctor’s mouth drop open as she takes in the notes tacked up on the walls. It drops entirely when the Doctor looks at her with hope-filled eyes and asks if she’s coming along. “Two hearts,” she says. “One happy, one sad,” and Yaz will miss Ryan and Graham, but she can’t help but feel the sun golden on her face when she thinks she’s responsible for the happy heart.)

(The problem, of course, is that Yaz is very, very sure this will happen again. They lead dangerous lives, after all. And the TARDIS is unreliable.)

(The problem, of course, is that tragedy is a cycle.)

Intermission

The TARDIS is just the same as Yaz remembers, with a few exceptions. Steps in the console room, for example. And her room has changed slightly— evolved, perhaps, to fit the new version of Yaz that has emerged from the last ten months. Her bedspread has gone from purple to a red-brown, and the glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling have gone from cartoonish to nearly photorealistic, swirling in fluorescent galaxies when she turns the lights off. She collapses into her bed, curling up immediately— she never sleeps as well at home as she does in the Doctor’s TARDIS. 

The next morning, she practically runs into the console room, not even trying to suppress her smile. The Doctor is already there, writing in a little notebook, and she turns around when Yaz steps closer, her eyes sparkling. 

“Good morning,” Yaz says, suddenly shy. She hasn’t been alone with the Doctor in the TARDIS before. Or— she has, in the sense that they’ve been the only two in the room, but she hasn’t, in the sense that Ryan and Graham have technically always been on board with them, even if they were far out of earshot. It feels different, now there's no chance of Graham wandering in with his tea, or Ryan poking his head through the door to ask if they want to play a video game. 

“Morning, Yaz!” the Doctor exclaims. She’s back to her usual bouncy self, of course— she never reveals her sadness for long. “Was waiting for you to wake up.”

Yaz smiles. “What’s in the notebook?”

The Doctor returns her smile with a grin. “How would you like to learn to fly the TARDIS?”

Yaz steps forward, barely believing her ears.

“You mean it?”

The Doctor nods, expectant. An impossible joy rises in Yaz's throat, threatens to spill out her eyes. Maybe, she thinks, it won’t be a cycle after all.

2.

Yaz watches, and the Doctor turns to stone. 

She can’t help but feel like her watching is what does it. Even though plenty of others are looking on, immobilizing the Doctor as wings sprout from her back. 

The angels’ weakness is in their observation, after all, and Yaz keeps watching the Doctor, even when she shouldn't. 

She almost dies, lunging forward, desperately reaching. It’s Dan who saves her, pulls her back, keeps her from her death.

And that's how she falls for a second time. 

It’s different, this time. Less familiar, for one: it’s a hundred years before she was born, in a time when half of England is still using chamber pots, and everything feels strange. 

But— the other difference is the Doctor.

She hasn’t left Yaz alone, this time.

Yaz feels the difference the second she and Dan and Jericho and Peggy get back to the village, before she even finds the hologram. She’s already composing a game plan in her mind, just like the Doctor would: get food. Get money. Get period-appropriate clothing. Find a way back to the Doctor.

It’s not until that night that her left hand drops into her pocket and meets cool metal, tugging it out to see the trapped crystal and smooth ridges of an unfamiliar device.

Hope wells up in Yaz. Or— not quite hope. Love , she realizes. Love, because whatever this is, it has to be from the Doctor, and that means the Doctor cared enough about her to leave her— well, to leave her something, even if she hasn't figured out what.

She will find her way back this time.

She doesn’t have a TARDIS, but over the last ten months, she’s learned to trust herself: she’s learned high gravity circus arts, bluffed her way through a peace treaty to rescue the Doctor from a hostage situation, and, in one memorable occasion, defused an actual bomb with one second left on the clock. She’s not the Doctor, but she is good.

By the time they’ve spent two weeks in the empty village, Yaz even has a plan. She’ll spread messages to the Doctor throughout the time period, hoping one of them makes it to the future. Might even try and make one big and permanent enough that the Doctor will see it from space in 2021. And while they’re doing that, Yaz will look for traces of time travel in the 1900’s: the Doctor isn’t the only time traveler out there, she knows, and someone is bound to have abandoned a bit of technology somewhere on Earth. Dan and Jericho are on board— they’re a little taken aback by her fervor, she can tell, but they want to get home. 

The hologram, of course, changes everything. It activates when Yaz is doing laundry, her arms burning with the effort of using a washboard. She’s been keeping it in her pocket, her one relic of the Doctor, when suddenly she hears a muffled voice.

The Doctor’s muffled voice.

She pulls the hologram out of her pocket, mouth hanging open, and watches as the Doctor, golden, untouchable, appears in front of her.

Yaz stares at her. 

She stares back. 

Except— she's not really staring at Yaz, is she? She's staring at the hologram— the hologram that represents Yaz— and— 

Has the Doctor been looking at her like this this whole time? With so much emotion in her eyes? Or is she only looking like this because Yaz isn't really there, because it's safe? Yaz is afraid to call the look loving , not when the consequences for being wrong involve the bitterest disappointment, but her breath catches in her throat anyway. 

She misses the Doctor. More than anything. 

For the next four years, she travels the world. She realizes, at some point in there, that she’s changing— she’s growing into someone new, someone separate from the Doctor, separate from Sheffield, separate from her family and the 21st century. It’s strange. Change is inevitable, of course, but the person she’s becoming is so shaped by the 20th century— shaped by the fashion and the technology and the social rules. She's gotten used to cobblestone streets and horse-drawn buses and traveling miles on rickety trains only to arrive somewhere with no electricity or plumbing, and she has to wonder— when she gets back to the Doctor, to the TARDIS and the convenience of 21st century life, will she even still fit? She still has her smartphone, tucked in a corner of her luggage, and it might even have a little bit of charge left. But she doesn't know, because she hasn’t tried to turn it on in months. She reads newspapers now, anytime she can get her hands on them. She knows how to book tickets by mail to sail abroad, even when her address isn’t quite fixed. She can lace her own corset and do her own hair in the complicated styles of the day, and after a few months of wearing impractical skirts and itchy collars, she’s finally found clothes that suit her. She’s formed an identity for herself, in this era, an identity that’s completely hers.

And yet, she doesn’t belong.

It’s not her era. It’s temporary, she knows it is. She will see the Doctor again. She will go home. And if she doesn’t belong in Sheffield anymore— well, she’ll have the TARDIS, all of time and space, to help her readjust.

It does remind her of the ten months. She says as much to Dan and Jericho, detailing those awful days and nights spent in the wrong console room. She’s got the same dull sense of detachment, the same laser focus on the Doctor. 

But… it’s different now. She knows what she has to do, and she knows how to do it. Even if she’s still not sure how she’s going to get back to the Doctor— even if some days, her mission is just, “Keep Dan and Jericho alive.” She's figured out how to fake it, how to act like she knows what she's doing, and slowly she realizes she actually knows. Maybe she knew this whole time. She manages to smooth-talk all three of them onto ship after ship, she manages to bandage a gash in Dan's arm with a piece of her own corset cover while camping deep in the woods, she manages to dispose of a dead body without a second thought. She's always prided herself on doing the things that need to be done, after all— if those things have evolved from tricky homework assignments and white lies to her parents to wilderness medicine and corpse disposal, well, that hardly matters. It's still got to be done. 

And, of course, she has the hologram. A ghost of the Doctor, keeping her company. Or maybe Yaz is the ghost, stuck in the past— it’s hard to tell, sometimes. Although— she doesn’t feel dead, this time. Not like before, when she barely went through the motions of keeping herself alive, when she did the same tests on the unfamiliar TARDIS every day until it became familiar but still impenetrable. She’s no longer a high-tech Sisyphus— she’s Odysseus, maybe, displaced in time as well as space, and sailing the high seas in the hopes of making it home. Odysseus has a crew, has control. 

Yaz always said she wanted to be in charge. 

She’s in charge now, leading Dan and Jericho through a convoluted set of tunnels. Technically Dan’s the one who knows the tunnels best, but they’re all used to Yaz being in the lead, and it’s a hard habit to break. So she’s in front, trying not to let herself hope too hard, trying to tamp down the feeling that she’s walking upward again, out of the Underworld, towards the 21st century sunlight. It’ll hurt too much if she’s wrong— if she falls again— but— 

But she’s right.

There’s a door to 2021. 

After four years of searching, it turns out it’s as easy as stepping across a threshold, swapping one tunnel for another. Yaz almost cries when she sees the modern font on clean plastic mounted to the wall, part of a museum display— and again when she sees the TARDIS, solid, stalwart. If it weren’t for the stranger in front of her, blocking her, Yaz would be running right to it, opening the doors, flying away.

The good news is she doesn't have to. The Doctor appears, suddenly, miraculously, and when the Doctor appears— 

She’s like the sun. She really is. Yaz has finally made it up to the Earth's surface, and now, after years in the darkness, she feels light again. The universe is ending, but the light is soft on Yaz's face.

For a split-second, she’s afraid of the Doctor seeing her. She remembers last time— standing in Graham’s living room, full of hope and whispered prayer, but then the Doctor looked at her, and the hope crashed into anger, plunging her back into a roiling darkness. 

But things are different now.

When the Doctor looks at Yaz— it’s like she sees her. She sees everything. Yaz is mesmerized. She can’t look away. 

There’s a lot going on, and the Doctor is frenetic, distracted, but she still takes a moment to pull Yaz into a hug, and the way she melts into Yaz’s body, just for a second, brings Yaz completely back to life, heals any lingering wounds, if only for the moment. And then the way she looks at Yaz when she asks if she’s okay— 

She does look at Yaz like that, then, even when it’s not a hologram, when there’s no time or space between the look and its recipient. 

Or at least, she does now. 

(The problem with tragedy is that it’s a cycle, and the problem with cycles, of course, is that they can be broken.)

Coda

Yaz steps into the console room. She’s back in 21st century clothes— slipping into the world of the living, finding her foothold.

The Doctor, standing at the console, straightens up. She looks tired, a weight in her shoulders and in the droop of her eyelids. Her eyes meet Yaz’s, and Yaz feels the corners of her lips rising into a smile. 

The Doctor smiles back. Not one of her big showy grins— no. She’s not performing right now. This smile is genuine. It’s real.

“I really did miss you,” she says, her voice soft.

“You, too.” Yaz is awkward, suddenly. She’s forgotten how she used to act around the Doctor. In four years, she’s been an adventurer, she’s been a friend, she’s been a codebreaker and a sailor. But she hasn’t been a copilot.

There’s an awkward silence, stilted in the presence of all their time apart, everything they haven’t said. 

“I was thinking,” Yaz blurts out. “We should invite Dan along. He was a good sport, back in the 20th century.”

The Doctor nods. There’s a shift in her demeanor, a flickering of a light, and she’s back at the console.

“Brilliant idea, Yasmin Khan,” she says, and Yaz’s stomach flutters to hear the Doctor say her name again. 

“Copilot?” she asks.

And at the Doctor’s responding grin, she knows she’s back home.

[robertrabiah]

Rabiah tells IF: “Bilal was such a draining character to play. Even though a lot of scenes didn’t make the cut (normal, in order to get it to a TV duration), feeling my stomach turn every morning was intense and I just needed to travel for a while.”

Produced by Nick Batzias of Good Thing Productions, Veronica Gleeson and Kate Neylon and due to shoot in WA in January, Below stars Ryan Corr as Dougie, a directionless dreamer who is recruited to work in the detention centre. He soon discovers the centre is home to a Fight Club-style underground operation where detainees are blackmailed into fighting, which awakens his dormant conscience.

Anthony LaPaglia is Dougie’s stepfather Terry, the centre’s security manager. Alison Whyte is Cheryl, Dougie’s mum, with Phoenix Raei as Azad, a detainee and fighter. Zenia Starr is Imogen, a social worker, with Morgana O’Reilly as Michelle, a detention centre guard who is Terry’s offsider.

Rabiah has been cast as King Ciggy, a prize-fighter who was one of the first arrivals at the detention centre and is burdened with the task of keeping order among the detainees.

He is looking forward to teaming again with Corr after Ali’s Wedding and with Raei, who directed and wrote 7 Storeys Down, a drama which co-starred Raei and Kate Lister.

Most of all he is excited about the opportunity to work with LaPaglia, his childhood idol, observing: “I remember watching him as a kid in a TV movie called Frank Nitti: The Enforcer back in 1988 and you couldn’t take your eyes off him – such a formidable screen persona. The only lines I’ve been rehearsing is saying my name correctly. I have this recurring nightmare that I shake his hand, open my mouth, and no words come out…”

Next year Rabiah will also be seen in Foxtel/Matchbox Pictures’ Secret City: Under the Eagle. Directed by Tony Krawitz and Daniel Nettheim, the sequel to Secret City again stars Anna Torv, Jacki Weaver, Danielle Cormack, Rob Collins, Sacha Horler and Marcus Graham.

In the six-part political thriller Rabiah plays Sami Almasi, a shady Canberra businessman who is the main antagonist to Torv’s Harriet Dunkley, the former journalist who, after being released from jail, discovers a military and political cover-up.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Don’t Let Her Pass You By

Taking a break from finishing my Rhaenicent fic to write this missing scene, as I wanted an interaction between Yaz and Ace before the Doctor woke up.

Rated: G Relationships: Thasmin-focused, Ace & Seven’s platonic bond touched upon, and Yaz chats with another queer companion (screw you, Chibnall). Lots of pining, might do a follow up where something actually happens, I just felt a need to write this conversation first.

“It don’t look much like Sydney to me!” Tegan huffs after opening the doors.

Yaz squints at the controls; “No, I’m certain I got it right, we should be right in the centre of-.”

“Croyden.” Kate confirms.

Ah. Right. She must have been a few inches off with the location dial. 

“Close enough?” She says, sheepishly, feeling the glaring eyes of the former air hostess on her.

Tegan shakes her head; “I can tell exactly who taught you to fly this thing. It’s quicker getting a fourteen hour flight home than it is hoping the TARDIS will get you where you wanna go.”

“Lay off, will ya. It’s better than any of us could have done.” Ace, at least, jumps to her defense.

Thank you, Yaz says with her eyes alone and a sly smile. It’s not easy having to aim for one little dot in the Universe at the right time. She indulged herself in a moment of pride; she hadn’t managed to materialize them on one of Saturn’s rings or the edge of a black hole. And the year was right, they hardly needed to arrive at the same time the Luftwaffe happened to be flying overhead, not with everything they’d just been through.

She glances over to where the Doctor lays, far too silent for her, even in sleep. Yaz had seen...had shared too many moments watching her friend slumber to know how regular she snored, what she was likely to mumble, nonsense about fish fingers and custard or looking for the daisiest daisy. Yaz loved to watch, loved to lay beside her in those rare moments of intimacy where the Doctor beckoned her close for company, in the small hours between adventures. She could listen to that bizarre alien babbling for hours until sleep finally took her as well.

The Doctor hasn’t let out so much as a murmur since she fell unconscious, surrounded by her ‘extended fam’, as she’d called them.

The same fam who were now making their departures. Kate Stewart is the first to depart, giving a respectul nod - a soldier’s nod - to both Yaz and the sleeping Time Lord. Graham and Tegan linger for a moment, pulled back with concern heavy on their faces, before Yaz assures them that the Doctor will be fine. And that she’ll stay with her...Come what may.

“Coming, Ace?” Tegan asks the woman in the crazy jacket with the bat.

Ace looks from the Doctor to Yaz, then to her Aussie friend; “Gimmie ten minutes?”

The others nod and leave, after another goodbye hug between Graham and Yaz, along with a request to send her love along to Ryan, and a kick up the arse for not being here. Kate has one more glance of bewilderment around the TARDIS before she makes her way through the doors.

Yaz watches as Ace goes to sit beside the Doctor’s head, the brovado having seemed to soften. Regret? Grief? She wants to ask, she wants to know what it was that this woman and the Doctor...Her Doctor had...And why it ended. Why it had to end. But that’s not her business, no more than what she has with her Doctor is with anyone elses...

We used to be you.

Tegan had been so angry. Would Yaz be the same, when it was time for her to leave? Would she not see the Doctor again until she was decades older and she...or he or they...were with someone new? Someone who took Yaz’s place in her hearts?

“I think that blast did more than knock you on your backside this time, Professor.” Ace whispers.

Yaz agrees, though she doesn’t say as much. This time? 

“Why d’you call her ‘Professor’?” Damn it, Yaz, she immediately chastises herself for prying.

But Ace just smirks; “Because he told me not to.”

Yaz laughs. Fair enough; that was all she needed to let her know what kind of bond those two had. 

“You’re well lucky. You got the prettiest Doctor. You know it too, don’t ya.” Ace gives her a wink; “I mean, not that I’ve seen a lot of the others, but just compared to mine. Feels so weird looking at them now...Do you think she’ll go back to being a bloke?”

The shy giddiness that had begun to swell inside of her at Ace seeming to notice what the others probably hadn’t is suddenly beaten down with that final question. Heat rises in her neck, fingers clench against the console.

“No. Not yet, anyway, she’s not gonna change...”

“Yaz. C’mon-.” Ace tilts her head, as if she’s talking to a small kid. It only makes things worse. Yaz is tempted to hit the controls and transport them to that black hole just to shut her up.

“I’ve seen her live through worse, all right!” She protests, blinking back the salt water; “We’ve both been through worse and...If she’s sick or hurt then I’ll take her some place, or maybe Kate has people at UNIT who can...”

Without having heard her cross the room, Ace touches her arm.

“Cor, you really love her, don’t you?” She says, “I mean I could see you fancied the pants off each other but...”

Yaz sniffs, “We’re not...It’s complicated.”

“With the Doctor, I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

A tinkling noise echoes from the centre of the console, as if the TARDIS were chuckling along with the conversation. Yaz thinks of all the times she’d heard the Doctor call her ship by pet names, ‘dear’ and ‘sweetheart’, as if it were as much a love interest than Yaz could ever be. 

“Have you told her? How you really feel?” Ace asks.

Yaz thinks back to their moment on the beach. Everything and nothing being confessed, then swept away with the thrashing waves.

“We’ve...talked...Nothing really came off it. She doesn’t really do feelings, not my Doctor anyway.”

“Mine could be crap like that too. Great at manipulating them when he needed though...” Ace folds her arms, leaning against the console. She frowns at the Doctor for a moment before continuing; “I got so angry with him. I said...horrible, horrible things before I left...And all the time I just kept wishing he would beg me to stay. That he would do more than just apologise and explain himself, make it seem like it was all for the ‘greater good’...I wanted him to care how much I was hurt...And maybe he was but I knew he’d still be the same old Doctor and what I wanted was...I dunno, a dad. A best friend. Cool teacher. Weird uncle. Just...the family I never had, that I could trust. Then I realised it was just him. The Doctor is the Doctor and...I missed him so much, Yaz...”

She doesn’t know what to say as the older woman lays her heart out in the open. Could she say that she knows the Doctor missed her too? She would like to hope that was true, but then it’s not like she had ever heard the Doctor speak of others who had travelled with her before her, Ryan and Graham. Not more than just passing references to how dangerous travelling with her could be.

“I know why he didn’t ask me to stay...He wanted me to go my own way. It was my time. I guess they’ve been through enough of us to know when it’s time for it to end...But I still remember the look on his face. He never cried, my Doctor, but...I could see his hearts breaking. And I hated myself for leaving it like that.” Ace confesses; “...Whatever still needs to be said...or more...between the two of you...I think you’d best do it soon. Don’t do the whole thirty years of being a moody cow like I did.”

“Oh c’mon, from what I’ve heard, you’re like the CEO of this amazing charity that’s saved homeless kids around the world! I’d call that doing more than just being a moody cow.” Yaz can at least give her that, she’d heard of A Charitable Earth even as a teenager. She hadn’t expected its founder to be...well, a walking 80s time capsule.

The other woman shrugs; “Yeah...m’pretty cool after all. And I’ve got my own life, my own adventures, gorgeous girlfriend of my own...See? There is life beyond the Doctor.”

“I know...But I want my life with her. I want it to be forever.”

It hits her then. The truth of it, as she looks over at where the Doctor remains still, head on the pillow Yaz had grabbed from her own room. What will happen to her bedroom in the TARDIS after she’s gone? Does the Doctor keep them all locked away, sealed up as sacred shrines? Or do they get recycled and reused for the next one? Is it worth leaving anything here as a memento? The crushing sadness comes down in force again as she finds she’s already preparing herself, mentally, to leave. To leave her...

Ace’s fingers wrap around her wrist, giving a comforting squeeze.

“I’ve been there, love. Part of me would still go away with her in a heartbeat if she asked...And I dunno, maybe I’m talking complete tosh, and maybe she’ll be fine and...You and her can have another hundred years of travelling together...But you know it will happen, eventually. If you don’t leave first then she’ll...”

“Change.” She can’t say ‘die’. She won’t.

Ace takes a breath; “I remember the day word got to me...about a police box turning up in the middle of New York...and a man in strange clothes being shot down in the middle of some random gang war...I thought ‘nah, that couldn’t be him. Not my professor, he’d be prepared for something like that’...But he hadn’t. Stupid git. Then I had something else to be angry for...’Cause I would’ve protected him...”

“You’d have taken on a bunch of armed street kids...with a bat?”

“I’ve taken on Daleks with this thing, I could easily beat down a few jumped up yobs.” She brags with a grin; “I know I’d have saved him...Just like you saved yours...That felt good to watch...I’m glad she’s got you, Yaz. For however long that is.”

As long as can be. Until the stars burn out and time falls apart at the seams. She’ll live in the delusion that such a thing could be possible, until the Doctor wakes. If she wakes. Perhaps Yaz will remain here for years, keeping watch over Sleeping Beauty, only with a far more dull and depressing end to this fairy tale. 

Ace squeezes her hand again before pulling away.

“I better go join the others before Tegan starts shouting for me. Mouth on legs, that one.” She walks over to the Doctor and kneels beside her.

Yaz watches, silently, as Ace runs her hand over the Doctor’s hair, smiling at her.

“Better not be another thirty years before I see you again...Pretty sod.” Her voice cracks. She places a kiss on the Doctor’s forehead, quick and soft, a surprising show of tenderness.

Ace stands, looks back to Yaz.

“You come find me if you need me.” She nods; “Laters.”

Yaz smiles, her stomach clenching; “Laters...And thanks...”

The older woman walks with the swagger of a headstrong teenager as she takes her bat and her heavy rucksack, and walks out through the doors, leaving Yaz alone with her Doctor. 

Just the two of them again, as it had been in that brief period between leaving Graham and Ryan and meeting Dan. The two of them and the whole Universe laid at their feet. It had felt like they had explored a trillion galaxies and yet barely moved from where they had dematerialised. She knew she was a different person to the fresh young cop the Doctor had almost landed on in that train all those years ago (for starters, she wouldn’t be caught dead wearing a police badge again). But she felt as though she had only just began to sprout into who she truly was.

The Doctor had been her source of her light, her oxygen, her water and nourishment for all this time. Just the thought of growing on, without her, made her want to fall to her knees. 

A tiny moan, weak as a hurt kitten, is what strengthens her.

“Y’...az...”

Yaz rushes to the Doctor’s side as she finally makes some noise, twitching and frowning. Eyes still clenched shut.

“I’m here. I’m here.” She cradles her hand in both of hers, clutching it to her chest; “Doctor, I’m here...You’re safe...We’re all safe, in the TARDIS...We’re home...”

Earth or the ship, it didn’t matter. They were together.

The distress on the Doctor’s face doesn’t fade away. But her fingers hold on tight to Yaz’s.

“F-face...Face is wet...” She murmurs, and it’s then that Yaz notices a droplet of water left on her cheek. Is it a tear of her own, or Ace’s? 

The Doctor turns her head; “...D-don’t cry...While there’s life, there’s...Pockets. Gotta have p-pockets.”

A choked up giggle leaves Yaz, and she hugs the Doctor’s hand to her. 

“Sure, Doctor. Whatever you say.” Daft, mad, brilliant Doctor.

Mixed emotions twitch on the Time Lord’s face, mind trapped in a fevered haze as her body tried to recover from that catastrophic blast. There were no visible wounds, nothing external, nothing that could be fixed by human hands...It’s whatever was going on beneath the surface terrified Yaz.

She remembers the weight of her in her arms as she’d carried her off that imploding base, how the centuries-year-old being had still clung to her, a simple human woman from Sheffield, as if everything depended on her. The person who, most of the time, shone magnificently, like the brightest star in the galaxy that the Doctor had taken her to see go supernova for her birthday.

The Doctor had clung to her the same way she reaches out for her now, afraid and hurt, seeming so small now the monsters have been defeated.

“Please...Please don’t go yet...Not yet, Yaz...My Yaz...” The Doctor whimpers, trembling slightly.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yaz promises, reaching to stroke her hair, “Just sleep...I’ve got you.”

If Ace was certain she could defend her Doctor against a barrage of bullets with a bat, then she could promise to punch out the Master and anyone else who dared threaten them again.

The Doctor leans into her touch, lips curving into the smallest of serene smiles, before she drifts back off, silent and still once more. Yaz looks at her forehead, thinking of where Ace had kissed her. A kiss goodbye.

Whatever still needs to be said...or more...between the two of you.

She decides then, she won’t do twenty or more years of regret. Whatever happens, whatever comes next, as soon as the Doctor wakes...

No more running.

[talsiaa]

Binary Star System (13 x Reader) - 1/?

Summary: This is the first part of a 13th doctor reader insert series :) I loved the 10 ep where he used the chameleon arch and I thought it'd be fun to do that with 13. this chapter is short, basically just sets up the actual story <3

Word Count:

Pairing: 13th doctor x timelord!reader

The TARDIS jolted and spun, spitting sparks of fire from her core at the five of you. The air seemed to have an orange tint - you were pretty sure something would catch fire sooner or later and you weren't one hundred percent sure if you were going to be able to get Yaz, Graham and Ryan to safety before it did. They were currently clinging onto anything they could for dear life around the edges of the console room.

"Doctor, he's going to be able to track us still!" you shouted across the console to you wife. You stumbled to one side as the TARDIS shook tumultuously. "And this isn't what the TARDIS was made for, she's not going to be able to cope!"

"Maybe just one more go?" she sounded desperate.

You had just fled Gallifrey after the Master infested it with his new Cybermen and he was trying to get a hold of his two oldest friends to be the first additions to his fleet. In attempts to shake him off, you and The Doctor had been racing from the birth to the death of the universe over and over again. The TARDIS was under far too much stress.

"You and I both know that this isn't going to work." with great difficulty you managed to move to where The Doctor was fiddling around with some levers. You took a moment to appreciate how her face looked in the orange light and how much you loved her hair all messy. "I think we might need the chameleon arch."

The Doctor's jaw tightened. Her eyes didn't leave the controls, careful not to even glance in your direction.

After a painful moment of silence, Yaz spoke up as the TARDIS gave a particularly nasty jolt. "What's the chameleon arch?" Ryan and Graham had started stumbling over to the console with Yaz.

"The TARDIS can help us disguise as humans. We'd be untraceable. Not even The Master would be able to find us too easily." you explained. "It's not a long term solution but it would definitely buy us some time."

"Oh well, do that then! Why have we been clinging on for dear life for the past half an hour? That sounds much better." Graham exclaimed, looking just slightly confused.

The Doctor didn't lift her head up. "We wouldn't remember you. Or this. Or home..." she took a deep breath. "Or each other." she finally looked at you. Those eyes always did make you heart melt, even in the most inconvenient moments. "I'm not prepared to do that, y/N, we have fought too hard to stick together only to be thrown separate ways with no recollection of each other."

"I know." you slipped your hand into hers, giving it a small squeeze. "I know..."

"Well, what if we came with you. Wherever you both end up and we could keep an eye on you?" Ryan suggested.

"That's not a bad idea-" another jolt as Yaz spoke. "We could even try and get you both to bump into each other!"

"Doctor, I don't think we have a choice. Believe me, I don't want to do this either."

The Doctor dropped your hand, instead running her hands through her hair and across her face. "Yeah. You're right, Y/N, we can't keep doing this we'll break her."

The two of you got started on setting up the chameleon arch, giving Yaz, Graham and Ryan the do's and don'ts at the same time as well the run down on if The Master does manage to track you both down again. Basically, don't touch the fob watches unless it's an emergency.

It was happening.

"It's not goodbye forever, you know?" you said softly, resting your head on The Doctor's shoulder while she was finishing setting the arch up. "And anyway, how could I ever forget you, ey?" you tried to reassure her, but as the words left your mouth a few tears began to run down your face. "You're too brilliant to forget."

"I love you. I always have and I always will." she spoke barely above a whisper. You nodded.

"I love you too. We'll be fine, though. We always are."

Within the next minute you were both hooked up and it was time for Yaz to pull the lever. The last thing you remembered was holding far too tightly onto The Doctor's hand as you both cried out in pain.

Bright light.

And then nothing.

[elliesgaymachete]

I convinced my gf to catch up on Thirteen rewatching some doctor who and little details of arachnids in the uk that I love

Yaz being the first to hesitate leaving when the doctor finally got them home

Literally inviting her up to meet her FAMILY when she never brings people round youve known her like less than a week

Yaz saying “police officer” at the exact same time her dad said “police woman” clearly indicating that they’ve had this argument probably a thousand times before

“Nadja, you made a very awesome human”

Unrelated to DW but the assistant’s name is Kevin and my cat’s name is Kevin so they keep saying “What happened to Kevin?” and “Where’s Kevin?” And it’s v amusing for me personally

Yaz immediately following the doctor to investigate the spider without a word even though the doctor literally just said “wait here with my people” implying the whole group most likely. And the doctor also doesn’t question that she followed

Continuing to say “Yaz’s mum” even though we all know that she already knows her name

-angry businessman explaining his wealth- “Should I be impressed?” -Yaz quickly shakes her head-

Another brief interlude to say: I hate that this is such a good episode because I hate spiders so much 🙃

“Are you two seeing each other?” “I don’t think so. Are we?” “We’re friends!”

Like was this just a one off joke or were the seeds actively being planted literally the entire time

The slight hesitation and indirect answer when Yaz said “We’re friends!” She was already in deep

The fact that Ryan Yaz and Graham all discussed and agreed to go with her without telling the doctor and she’s so surprised but so excited to see them

“I want more. More of the universe. More time with you. You’re like the best person I ever met.” OKAY IT HAS TO BE INTENTIONAL AT THIS POINT

Ok, thus concludes the little details I loved about that episode

[penguinwithitsarseonfire]

Your Hand Print's on my Soul

Part 1 | See the Full Series Here

Pairing: 13th Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 5,069

Warnings: None

Summary: After a terrifying adventure causes the Doctor to have a realisation about you, she seeks advice from some old friends. 

A/N: Fair warning, this will be a series, but each fic is a standalone. I’m using this to practise writing different characters and/or different writing styles, This fic features the Paternoster gang, because I love them!!

It hadn’t been a startling realisation, which was what had surprised her. Her realisations were often the cause of something dramatic. This one, however, didn’t involve an Earth shattering life or death situation, no one had held her by gun point until she’d had an awakening, and it hadn’t taken someone else pointing it out –  like an alien hell bent on taking some other culture over or the like.

No, it had been in a quiet moment. Just the two of you, lazing the day away.

You had been smiling, completely entranced in whatever you had been reading, sitting on the TARDIS steps whilst the Doctor had been tinkering. She had looked up for a moment, trying to remember which wire she was supposed to reconnect into the chameleon circuit, and there you were.

Under the glow of the TARDIS’ crystals, your skin warm and soft, your eyes sparkling, it had sort of… clicked.

The Doctor loved you.

She considered it for a moment, let the thought roll over in her head.

You had laughed at something in your book, and the Doctor realised she always wanted to hear it, that it was, quite possibly, just the very best sound in the world.

Yes, she loved you.

It made sense, really. It was surprising she hadn’t realised it earlier.

So she kept the thought with her, held it close to her hearts, and smiled at you softly. Before you could look up, before you could wonder why the clacketing and hissing from her tinkering had stopped, she turned away, resuming her work.

The life or death situation had caused the next realisation.

You had gotten separated from the group, and those awful, hideous (well, the Doctor assumed they were hideous, but she had admittedly never seen them) Vashta Nerada were back.

Her and the rest of the fam had found themselves back to the TARDIS, and the Doctor was about to manipulate where the light was falling over the park in a move that basically just involved popping the TARDIS in and out of time milliseconds apart.

But you weren’t there.

You weren’t there.

And so the Doctor had thrown herself into the TARDIS, furiously using every tool available to her to find some sort of evidence that you were alive – a bio print, a residual security scan, a photograph, anything.

And then you had stumbled out of a shadow, shaking, the person you had been with gone.

And the Doctor had realised then; she couldn’t lose you. Not ever.

Yaz had wrapped you into her arms and her and Ryan had ushered you into the TARDIS. The Doctor began her complicated flying manoeuvre, the day was saved, and Graham made tea.

And the Doctor realised; she had to make a plan.

The thing was though, she wasn’t really very good at this sort of stuff. Hell, she wasn’t any good at any sort of intimacy, platonic, romantic, or otherwise – as Graham could attest to.

Actually, y’know what, if Graham was to come to her today with some of those fears he’d had, The Doctor quietly reckoned she would’ve had a much better response.

That wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about, though.

But this was why she had found herself, parked over the Medusa Cascade, legs dangling out of the TARDIS door, cup of peppermint tea in hand, and just staring into space. Thinking about, well, thinking about you.

And what she ought to do.

“Hey,” you said, you voice only slightly louder than the low hum of the TARDIS’ engines. It was enough to pull the Doctor from her thoughts, as you so often did, even if you were the subject of her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

The Doctor nodded, turning slightly so she could look at you. You were wearing a plain green jumper and pyjama pants covered in question marks. The Doctor eyed the jumper curiously, it was setting off alarm bells in her mind, as if she was supposed to recognise it.

Then it hit her.

“Where’d you get those clothes?” She asked.

You looked down at your clothes and flushed. “Oh – um, the TARDIS. I’m pretty sure she gave them too me.”

Of course she did. The TARDIS knew the Doctor better than she knew herself.

She was surprised that the TARDIS had given you that particular jumper, and, if the Doctor concentrated, she could almost remember how it felt to wear; stumbling out of her – or well, his, TARDIS, fresh from the time war, itching to throw leather jacket on over it.

She liked it though; you wearing it. She wondered how you would look wearing something she wore today, like her suspenders or her scarf, or even her-

No. This wasn’t what she was supposed to be thinking about.

Still though, despite that, it suited you.

You nodded to the space beside the Doctor. “Do you mind if I join you?”

The Doctor blinked, turning her head to the empty space by her side, then back at you. “Yeah, of course. You’re always welcome.”

You gave her a warm smile. The Doctor focused on it, the way your eyes lit up, the way your nose creased ever so slightly, the way that utter kindness seemed to radiate off of you. She wanted to preserve it, capture that smile and hold it safe in her memory.

You toed off your slippers and joined her, leaning against the door when you had settled.

After you had all settled down after that awful, awful trip, Graham had asked to go home for the night. Ryan and Yaz had followed suit, and the Doctor didn’t blame them. After a day like today, she would to check in with her family too. It had been a frightening day, which the Doctor had apologised profusely for. Today had been worse than when they had run into the Death Eye Turtle Army – which was saying something.  

You had chosen to stay, citing that if you had left the Doctor alone, she would get into trouble, and she wasn’t allowed to get into trouble without one of the rest of you present.

It was a good rule. Clara had once had a similar one.

The Doctor sat there awkwardly, staring into her mug. She didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you, or what sort of words were the ones that you needed. She used to be so much better at this, and it was infuriating.

She took a sip, swallowing down her awkwardness, and turned to look back at you.

The stars seemed to reflect themselves in your eyes, bright and vibrant, as if they were reflecting your soul. You stared back at the Cascade in wonder. “It’s beautiful.”

The Doctor, who was memorising your face, the way the light hit your cheeks, the way it danced in your hair, hummed in agreement. Beautiful was certainly the right word for it.  

You turned up to look at her. “I can’t imagine what goes on in that great big brain of yours, but I’m here – if you need.”

The Doctor blinked again, and her mind whirring back to the very first thing you had said. Are you alright.

She stared at you dumbfounded. You weren’t even thinking about yourself, you were just worried about her.

The Doctor was acutely aware of how close you were in the narrow opening. If she leaned over just an inch or so, she could brush her shoulder against yours, feel the heat from your body.

She didn’t.

“It’s called the Medusa Cascade,” she said, turning away from you to look at the view. She gestured towards it. “It’s got around 15 broken moons –  some of them are just cracked, but others, like the 15th, are full on debris that float in orbit around each other. The eight is my favourite but humans can’t breathe on it. It’s also the halfway point of the universe from Earth, give it another couple of decades and you lot will be able to see it with telescope.  It’s even got-“

The Doctor paused for a moment. You had sighed quietly, staring downwards at your dangling legs. The Doctor swallowed, you were sad, of course you were sad, it had been a traumatic day. She tried to think of a way to fix it, to make it better.

“One time,” she continued, trying out for a story. A story would be good, she could totally tell a story, she was a great storyteller, she could keep Bruce Springsteen or Queen Alexia of Koros enthralled. The Doctor and storytelling? An excellent combination. “There were a whole bunch of planets that were taken here, and they were put out of temporal synchronisation with the rest of the universe by one second. It was actually a pretty intense feat of engineering, thinking on it now, but back then we had to-”

“You’re rambling,” you said, a small, sad smile on your face. “It’s okay Doctor, you don’t need to talk if you’re not comfortable. We can just sit here and watch the view.”

The Doctor clamped her mouth shut. She heard her teeth rattle inside her head, and wondered, belatedly, just how comical she looked, staring at this wonderful human with big eyes and a dumb expression.

She tried again.

“I’m probably down there right now,” she said, gesturing at a spot that held dancing green gas.

“Really?” You asked, your voice perking up. “But how can you be down there when you’re here? Wait, this is a time travel thing, isn’t it.”

The Doctor grinned, you had always been clever. “Yeah, younger versions of me are probably running around there right now, touring moons, sealing rifts in time, or trying out Rodravian ice-cream.”

“So you come here often?” You asked.

“Yeah,” The Doctor said. “This place here, it’s probably one of my favourites in the universe, well, after Earth of course – and Space Vegas, I’ve got to take you to Space Vegas-”

You laughed, soft and gentle, causing the Doctor to pause. Good. Laughter. That was important. Then, you looked at her more seriously. “So why here then? What makes it so special?”

The Doctor chewed on her lower lip for a second, staring back out onto the Medusa Cascade. She drummed her fingers against her mug of tea, which was still warm, and stared out at the plumes of coloured gasses that floated among the stars. After a moment, she said. “I… I guess it’s just a place that holds a lot of good memories.”

“With loved ones?” You prompted.

The Doctor looked at you, watched the way the light was reflected in your eyes, pools of colour shifting and whirring, as if it’s life came from you. “Yeah,” she said, and her voice cracked. “With loved ones.” She cleared her throat and turned away. “It’s a good place to think, too. I always come here to think, it’s quiet, it’s safe.”

Your voice was tentative, unsure, when you spoke again. It was as if you weren’t sure if you could, or rather, if you should ask. “What do you come here to think about?”

You.

The Doctor gulped back the rest of her peppermint tea in a single mouthful, set the mug aside. Then, she drummed her knuckles against her thighs. “Well,” she said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m quite tired, I think I might head off to bed.”

She didn’t look at you as she stood, she couldn’t look at you. If she did she would be met with your big sad eyes, your worried expression, facing the way you would chew your lip when you were nervous, something the Doctor didn’t think you even realised you did. No, she couldn’t face that, because if she did, she would never leave –  and she had to leave. She couldn’t have this conversation with you.

Not yet.

“Doctor-“ You tried, but the Doctor was already hurrying to the console. This was selfish of herself, cruel, even. She knew that. Of course she knew that. But she couldn’t handle this just yet. She needed a moment, she just needed to talk to someone about this, ramble on for a bit to slot all her thoughts into place.

She paused. Oh. Of course.

She turned to face you, looking at that spot between your eyebrows and above your nose so it looked like she was looking at you, but she wasn’t actually – because she couldn’t, wouldn’t, face your eyes. “I’ll take you somewhere tomorrow, somewhere really nice, and really calming – that is, if you’d like? Just the two of us.”

“Uh,” you said. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor replied and she risked a glance into your eyes. She regretted it immediately. You looked so confused, so hurt. “Well then Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re off to bed?” You asked, as if not quite believing her.

“Yep,” The Doctor said.

“Doctor… before you go,” you chewed your lip for a moment, as if contemplating something heavy, and then, just as suddenly, you flung yourself into the Doctor’s frame, wrapping your arms around her.

The Doctor felt warm, she could feel one of your hands rest against the back of her neck, as if they had found the right spot to be in. The other was against the curve of her back, resting their gently, as if you thought the Doctor was going to pull away.

The Doctor raised her arms slowly, careful not to jostle you, and returned the gesture. It had been a long time since she had hugged someone, and she felt awkward, unpractised. At the same time though, it was wonderful. The weight of your body was flush against hers, as if holding her wasn’t quite enough for you. No, you were grounding the Doctor, holding her stable in way the Doctor had never felt before, not in this face, at least.

Then, all too soon, you pulled away. “I just wanted to say thanks, for today, for um… For not giving up on me.”

That baffled the Doctor. Thanking her? It was her fault you had almost-

“Yeah, um of course. Uh, bed, that’s where I’m going now.” She gave you an awkward wave, before shooting off from the TARDIS console.

The Doctor had lied.

The TARDIS groaned in disapproval as the Doctor scurried off to the library.

“Yes,” The Doctor hissed. “I know, I know that was awful of me.”

The TARDIS whirred again.

“And selfish,” The Doctor said. “You don’t need to just tack it on, I know.”

The worst thing about it was though; the books were no help at all. Granted, the TARDIS hadn’t made it easy, but, after scouring the library for any sources that could help her process this information and work out how to move forward – well, none of it fit.

She huffed, blowing a strand of her out of her face, and glared at the growing stack of books that hadn’t given her any ideas at all. No this wouldn’t do.

“Alright,” she said to the TARDIS. “I think I need better help. Any ideas?”

Which was how, that morning (well, relatively) she found herself knocking on an old wooden door, you standing by her side.

“So who’re we visiting again?” You asked, stifling a yawn. The Doctor ebbed away a pang of guilt, it was obvious you hadn’t slept well.

“Some old friends,” the Doctor said. “Haven’t seen them in a while. I don’t think they know about my face.”

You scrunched your face up. “What do you mean by that?”

Any response the Doctor could have given was stolen when the door flew open. The man narrowed his eyes at them. “You will state your name and the purpose of this visit.”

“It’s me,” she replied. “The Doctor.”

His eyes regarded her carefully. “Well,” he said, after a moment. “You never told us that you could regenerate into a man.”

The Doctor’s hands flew to her face. “Wait, no, everyone’s been saying-,” she frowned at him, and was somewhat embarrassed that it had taken so long for the cogs in her brain to slot into place. “I’m a woman, Strax.”

“Who is it?” Came a voice from inside, and the Doctor smiled.

“It’s the Doctor,” Strax said, opening the door wider now. “He says he’s a woman now.”

“She,” Jenny admonished, ushering Strax aside. “And what do you mean the Doctor’s a…” her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the Doctor. Her eyes widened, looking the Doctor up and down. Nervously, she swallowed. In a clipped voice she said. “Ah. Right. A woman, got it.”

The Doctor rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of her feet. “This is Y/N,” she nodded to you. “I thought you’d be a great tour guide.”

By the Doctor’s side you gave an awkward little wave. “Hi.”

“And it’s nice to see you too,” Jenny pursed her lips towards the Doctor, and regarded you with curious interest. “Well come on in then,” she said, stepping aside to allow both you and the Doctor to enter. “How long’s it been for you anyhow? Since you last saw us?”

“Aw,” the Doctor drew out the sound, giving her an awkward look. “A while.”

Jenny hummed. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t surprise me. When did all of this,” she gestured to the Doctor’s general space, then gestured for Strax to close the door. “Happen?”

The Doctor’s expression brightened. “Only a little bit ago!” She twirled around the foyer, arms out, her coat billowing slightly around her. She loved the way it swooshed. “What’d you think?”

Jenny’s voice was a little strained when she responded, and the Doctor could have sworn she had muttered ‘marriage’ under her breath. “It suits you.”

The Doctor clasped her hands together. “I was hoping to see-”

“She’s busy,” Jenny said suddenly. “Interrogating someone.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Who..?”

“Ma’am,” Jenny explained. “The Lady Vastra.”

You didn’t look as though that had cleared anything up, and stared at Jenny like a confused puppy, which was adorable-

And not what the Doctor should be focusing on.

“I’m happy to wait,” The Doctor said, tearing her eyes away from you and over to Jenny. “I know how she can get when she… interrogates someone.”

You shook your head in bafflement and spoke under your breath. “What..?”

“I was wondering though, if you could give Y/N here a tour of Victorian London-”

“It’s just London, for us, Doctor,” Jenny said with an amused smirk.

“Around just London, then,” The Doctor amended. “Around some of your favourite sights,” the Doctor turned to you. “The tea shops are fabulous, you’ll like those.”

You blinked rapidly, and turned to the Doctor. “Uh, can we talk?”

The Doctor nodded and you pulled her aside. You hand was warm, even through the fabric of the Doctor’s coat, and she didn’t want you to let go. You did. “Doctor, why are you sending me off with this woman experiencing unparalleled levels of gay panic and this small potato man?”

“Potato man?” The Doctor admonished. “Y/N, he has a name.”

In the distance, the Doctor heard Jenny whisper the words ‘gay panic’.

You shrugged slightly. “Well I haven’t been told it.”

The Doctor reeled, how had she forgotten to do that? She pointed to Strax. “This is Strax, he was a nurse in the Sontaron empire,” she leaned in close to you, as if she was sharing a secret. “Essentially just mass produced clones,” then, spoke louder. “But can find the cure to almost any illness” Strax stifled under your gaze.

“And this,” the Doctor pointed to Jenny, not registering Strax’s reaction at all. “Is Miss Jenny. If an army of angry mind possessed Victorians come after you, she’s the best person to have by your side.”

“Mrs,” Jenny corrected, then turned to you. “And it’s lovely to meet you. Any travelling companion of the Doctor’s is…” she pursed her lips again, looking at you like she couldn’t quite make you out. “…is a friend of ours.”

“Right,” you said.

“And we would be more than honoured to give you a tour of London,” Strax said, his voice growing an edge of reverence and excitement. “I will show you the most strategic points of warfare, so that I may crush you in the fields of battle for the glory of the Sontaron empire!”

You looked at him blankly, and Jenny turned to him suddenly. “You’ve not been eating my sweets again, have you?”

Strax paled. “What? I – no, of course I haven’t. You have done me the most grave disgrace by suggesting otherwise-”

“You have been eating my sweets,” Jenny narrowed her eyes at him. “You took all the sherbet fizzles again, didn’t you.”

Before Strax could reply, the click of heels against the hardwood floor echoed down the hallway. Vastra emerged, tugging at her veil slightly. The Doctor could see straight through it, she always could, after all, but she wondered if you could see it.

Judging by the way your mouth fell open in shock, the Doctor assumed you didn’t see the veil afterall, which was different. “She’s a-”

“Yes.” The Doctor said.

“In Victorian-”

“Yes.”

The Doctor watched you consider it for a moment, then your face brightened. “That’s so cool.”

Vastra blinked, and it was the only indication that she was surprised. The Doctor was glad she still remembered how to read her old friend. “Well, that is a pleasant, if unordinary, reaction,” she cleared her throat. “Jenny dear, would you please introduce our guests.”

“Oh ma’am,” Jenny said. “That’s-”

“Me,” the Doctor said with a knowing smile. “C’mon Vastra, you know me.”

Vastra eyed the Doctor curiously, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Well, if I did not know any better, I would say that you’re the Doctor. I don’t know another soul who would wear suspenders of that colour.”

The Doctor grinned. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And I you,” Vastra smiled brightly, and her entire face emulated warmth. “I must compliment you Doctor, you are looking far better than any of your last faces can compare.”

“Marriage,” Jenny hissed.

“Oh come now dear,” Vastra said, but her eyes were still on the Doctor. “It was only a compliment.”

Jenny muttered something about flirting with half the galaxy, but the Doctor wasn’t paying attention, because your eyes were sparkling, as though you had solved the Collatz Conjecture. “You’re married?” You breathed. “To each other?”

Vastra’s smiled softened to you, like she was amused. “That is how marriage works.”

“That’s amazing,” you said. “How was the ceremony?”

Both Jenny and Vastra looked towards one another in amusement, and spoke at the same time. “Violent.”

“Your interrogation is over now, right?” The Doctor said, because she was itching to talk to Vastra.

“Oh, you were doing the interrogation,” You said. “How was it?”

“A bit too fatty from what I would usually enjoy,” Vastra said, her eyes twinkling. “But filling none the less.”

You let out a soft little ‘oh’, as if hadn’t occurred to you that Vastra’s interrogation technique wasn’t exactly above board. Then the Doctor realised that it probably hadn’t.

“And I am more than happy to speak to you, Doctor,” Vastra said again. “You know my parlour is always available.”

The Doctor turned to you. “You wouldn’t mind spending time with Jenny and Strax for a bit, would you?”

“Uh – no, no, of course not. You do what you gotta do space woman.”

The Doctor grinned, squeezing your shoulder, and jogged off to catch up with Vastra, who had already left the room. She knew you would be safe in Jenny and Strax’s hands, they wouldn’t let anything hurt you.

The parlour was how it always was, two tall chairs surrounded in an assortment of plants. Tea had already been brewed, because Jenny was nothing if not efficient, and Vastra sat in her designated chair.

“Your companion saw straight through my veil,” she mused, gesturing to the tea and silently asking if the Doctor would like some.

The Doctor nodded, and Vastra began serving. “Yeah,” the Doctor said, bouncing over. “I’m pretty proud about that, I think we’ve just seen so much now that nothing could be fazing anymore.”

“Well I’m sure you are one of those more delightful sights, Doctor,” Vastra passed her a mug and the Doctor took a whiff. It was French Earl Grey.

Then the Doctor realised what Vastra was saying. “I think this is the moment where Jenny would scold you about flirting, again.”

“Perhaps,” Vastra said with a smirk, which told the Doctor that Vastra knew exactly that, and that she didn’t mind it either. “So, tell me what is so urgently important, that I finished my meal early.”

The Doctor drummed her fingers against the warm ceramic. "My - my travelling companion, no, my friend, I... I think I, no. I know I..." The Doctor cleared her throat. "It's love."

"You're in love with your travelling companion," Vastra surmised, not as a question, but as a fact. "Is this something your friend knows?”

"Y/N," The Doctor said, squirming under the way Vastra had said the word ‘friend,’ like it wasn’t true in the slightest, like she could already see you were something more. No, that was ridiculous, the Doctor was reading too much into it. "And no - I... I haven't been able to work out what to do."

"So you've come to me," Vastra said, an edge of humour in her voice.

"You're my friend."

"Ah, so it's a bit of girl talk you're after," Vastra mused. "I suppose I can indulge you," she said, and then, after a moment. "My friend."

“It didn’t hit me really dramatically or anything, but I just… We had a really awful day yesterday, with the Vashta Nerda, which was already awful enough, but then Y/N got separated and I…”

“I understand,” Vastra said, her voice soft. “Although, Doctor, if you’ll allow me to say, you've been in love with many people before, need I remind you that I have been friends with most of them."

"Yes but, I haven't.. I don't..." The Doctor groaned. "I've never been a woman before."



Vastra raised an eyebrow, and took a sip of her tea. "So that's what this is," she said after a moment. "You've come to me because I am a woman who has seduced another," she scoffed. "You might be better seeing the Madame Julie D'Aubigny."

The Doctor almost smirked. "You've heard of Julie?"

"Doctor, I am a lesbian lizard woman from the prehistoric period living in Victorian London," Vastra said, in the matter of fact tone she often only reserved for the humans she considered unintelligent. "I make it my business to know of humanities greatest women."

The Doctor had a sip of her tea and took in a heavy breath. She hadn’t said these things to anyone before. It was new, it was frightening. It was also so very, very important.

"You know how humans can be can just be so bright, like there’s just that little something that shines within them, and, when you’re around them, it’s like that brightness is shining on you?" The Doctor started.

Vastra hummed, her eyes going thoughtful, knowing. Of course she knew, Vastra was another person who had fallen in love with a human.

"Y/N is like that, but... but more,” The Doctor said, and even she could tell that her voice was just filled with so much feeling. “I don't even know how to describe it, it's just – oh and that smile? Sometimes I take Y/N places just to see that smile, it's everything. Y/N finds the beauty in the mundane, and just adores absolutely everything I show."


The Doctor sobered. "How do I... what do I even do with that?"



Vastra leaned forward for a moment. "Well, do you want to be with Y/N?"

The Doctor swallowed. Did she? Could she do that to you? Could she collapse her absolute everything into you? Would it even be fair?

She thought about the way you had hugged her, how safe the Doctor had felt, how secure she had been. Perhaps, just maybe, it would be alright, to let you in, to fall completely into you.

But it would be cruel, it would be so much, and she would never want to put that burden on your shoulders.

At last, the Doctor whispered, in a broken voice. "I don't know.”

"Well," Vastra said, having another sip of tea. "I suggest you determine the answer, because I cannot tell you what you don't know, that is not how matters of the heart operate - or in this case, hearts."

“How do I do that?”

Vastra regarded her. “Doctor, that is not something I can tell you. Only you know your hearts,” she paused.

The Doctor took a sip of her tea, it was fruity, with a floral aftertaste. It reminded her of bergamot. She took one more, then another, swallowing down her thoughts.

Only she knows her hearts? What did that even mean.

The Doctor perked her head up, the pieces falling into place.

“I’m a time traveller,” She breathed.

“You are, yes.” Vastra said, frowning slightly. “That is one of your defining traits, Doctor.”

“No, I mean, I could just see another face of mine, one that’s better with all of,” the Doctor gestured vaguely around her, the tea sloshing in it’s mug. “This.”

Vastra raised her eyebrows. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant, Doctor.”

But she didn’t get the chance to reply. The door to the parlour flung open, and in stormed Jenny, with half the skirt from her dress burned off. You were walking behind her, frazzled and dazed, your hair flying everywhere and ash littered over your shirt. The Doctor noticed you had even lost a shoe.

“My word,” Vastra gasped. “What on Earth has happened?”

Your wild eyes found the Doctor’s, and immediately, the Doctor knew that her own crisis could wait. Something more important was afoot.

Part of her was excited, she had missed going on adventures with the Paternoster gang.

Besides, she had to work out which version of herself to talk to next, and that would take time.

“Well then,” the Doctor said. “C’mon team,” she screwed up her face. “Hm, no, wait. Crew?” her face then brightened. “Victorian slumber party – yes. C’mon Victorian slumber party-”

Vastra rolled her eyes, but was giving the Doctor a small smile. “You are not calling us that.”

“-let’s get a shift on.”

A/N^2: This was a bit of an awkward place to end it, sorry about that. I wanted the focus to be on the relationship advice but it all kind of spun away from me. Also, you won't BELIEVE how hard it was writing this without writing pronouns for reader, so, I have a question: how would you feel if I wrote Y/P for "Your pronoun"? I'm anxious about the fact that it could pull people out of the fic, but also, I don't want to alienate people by writing in a pronoun. So, thoughts?

[liron-ao3]

Brilliant

A Doctor Who–Destiel–Malec Oneshot

"This is brilliant!" the Doctor exclaims. She pushes some buttons on the console of the TARDIS. "Brilliant!"

"How is this 'brilliant'?" Alec asks. "We're trapped in a TV show."

"No, we are trapped in a TV series, Shadowhunter," Yaz hisses.

Castiel huffs in frustration. "It's probably just one of Gabriel's stupid jokes."

"Gabriel?" the Doctor asks. "Oh, the Archangel. Amy loved him, but not as much as she loved you, Cass."

"Where do you know his name from?" Dean demands to know.

The Doctor rolls her eyes. "I watched the show, Dean. Crappy ending, sorry."

"You... what!?" Dean asks.

"Nevermind. That's more brain-wracking than the usual time travel paradoxes. But I'm thrilled to meet you all. Umm—what are you doing, Magnus?" She raises an eyebrow at the warlock who lets his magic run over the console.

"This is worse than the technology in the Institute," he mutters.

Alec pulls him away cautiously. "Maybe you shouldn't mess with it then, love?" he suggests, smiling strained, holding tight on his husband's hand.

"Aww, you're the reboot version. I was so happy when Netflix saw sense. And your boys are the cutest," the Doctor chirps.

"Boys?" Magnus asks.

"Doctor, they might be from episode one of season four. Look at their clothes," Yaz whispers, but it's loud enough for Dean to hear it.

"There are only three seasons of Shadowhunters," he states. "It ends when they marry and Clary loses her memories, but gets them back in the last few seconds. It wasn't the best ending, but at least the gays were happy." Dean's grin reaches from ear to ear before it falters at Castiel's stern look.

"Dean, did you watch 3b without me?"

Dean shrugs. "If you wouldn't always run out on me or die then we coulda watched it. It was on my playlist for aeons. And I needed something to distract me from… You know." He waves his hand up and down the angel.

"Jesus! That's like that time when Sam and I were in this weird Hollywood dimension, with that Russian guy that looked like Cass!"

"Wait!" Magnus says. "I watched Doctor Who for six decades and Supernatural for fifteen years—I agree, Doctor, the 'finale' was crap. But if you all know us from a show called Shadowhunters, then we must be in some kind of dimension that morphs everything into a TV series that everyone else has watched."

The Doctor claps her hands together. "The French mistake—one of my favourites!"

"No, Russian." Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He always loved the Doctor and was excited for a woman to take over the role, but he thinks he might have been able to live without her enthusiasm about their little get together. They have a world to save, after all.

"Chuck has a strange sense of humour, but that doesn't sound like one of his interventions," Alec states. "Why would he put us all in the TARDIS?"

"What do we all have in common?" Dean asks.

"We're kinda humans," Alec says.

"Time Lady."

"Angel."

"Warlock. And you're not fully human either, Alexander."

The shadowhunter chews his lips.

"But you three have some kind of mojo," Dean supplies.

The Doctor furrows her brow. "You're right. Cass has grace, Magnus magic, and timelord technology is so highly evolved, it could be seen as magical. If there is a—" she trails off and points her sonic screwdriver first at the warlock then at the angel. Then she listens to her ship. "You're right," she says and putters about the console.

"Care to fill us in?" Alec asks.

The Doctor pushes a button and a high-pitched sound makes them all cover their ears. "Gotcha!"

"What?" Castiel asks.

"I know what we have in common. We all have a fam. You've got the SPN family, and you," she turns to Alec and Magnus, "your fans call themselves shadowfam. And I?" She smiles brightly. "I have Yaz, Graham, and Ryan."

"You agreed on team TARDIS, Doctor," Magnus reminds her.

"Still, feels like fam to me." She shrugs. "So…" She quirks her lips in thought. "Some blood magic, maybe?"

"But family doesn't end in blood," Dean argues.

"Right, Bobby taught you that. Wish the showrunners remembered that in season 15," Alec murmurs. Dean gives him a strange side look.

"Is something wrong, Dean?"

"Nah, Cass," he says and pulls his gaze from the intertwined hands of the Lightwood-Banes. "So, maybe some rune thingy?"

Alec pulls a face. "Could turn Yaz and you into forsakens. Maybe even the Doctor. Better not."

"Can't you just put the coordinates in and throw us out in the bunker. Or in front of it? No idea if the warding would keep the TARDIS out or not." Dean frowns.

"Wouldn't work," Magnus says. "If this dimension, or whatever it is, thinks that we are all fictional, then the coordinates can't bring us into our worlds. We might end up in your dimension. I like our vampires better."

"Awesome!" Dean groans.

Magnus curls his fingers around his chin in deep thought. "I could summon a dimension demon, but they usually demand things one would rather die than do."

"Like what?" Castiel asks.

"The last time I had to pay one, he wanted me to drink seelie wine."

"Doesn't sound too bad," Dean says.

"You've never had seelie wine. That stuff is worse than the touch of a Djinn." Dean whistles in acknowledgement.

"Could still be worth it. I mean we need to get back to our friends, and yours are surely waiting, too," Yaz supplies.

"The TARDIS is stuck in this dimension, Doc?" Alec asks.

"Yes. Positive."

"Then we should begin," Magnus says, conjuring chalks. "We all will be home soon."

***

They stand in a circle around the pentagram drawn on the floor of the TARDIS.

"We must initiate a bond. Once this bond is sealed,..." Magnus starts.

"...it cannot be broken until the demon retreats," Castiel ends his sentence and smiles softly at Alec, who blushes fiercely.

"Well, this time, I won't be the one who'll break it in a gay panic," he huffs. Yaz snickers.

Dean furrows his brow, ignoring Castiel eyeing him. He recites the summoning spell together with Magnus and the Doctor. Green flames rise in their midst. They aren't hot, but their sight hurts the eyes. A deep growl speaks to them, and Castiel turns pale.

"I haven't heard this demonic dialect in a while," he calls over the noises. "Did he say what I think he said?"

Magnus worries his lip between his teeth. "I think he did."

"I can't."

"What, Cass. What does he ask for? Give it to him. It can't be that bad," Dean shouts.

"It isn't. At least not for me." Castiel looks at the Doctor. "Any Supernatural sequels you've seen by any chance?"

"No, sorry. I got stuck at the Destiel YouTube vids. Didn't get around to checking future releases. But you two always reminded me of Rose and me, you know?" She looks sad at the memory of her lost love.

"No. A human doppelgänger won't do," Castiel says firmly. He says something in the demon's tongue and gets a rumble in reply.

Magnus nods at him. "My magic can hold the circle. But hurry."

The others stare at them. "Why doesn't the TARDIS translate his words?" Yaz asks.

"This demon is too old," the Doctor says. "Even older than evil itself. No one speaks this language anymore but angels and demon-blooded ones, as it seems."

"Lucky me, huh?" Castiel presses out. He lets go of Magnus' hand and turns to Dean. The warlock holds the gap with his magic. "I know how you see yourself, Dean…"

"We don't have time for the whole death speech. Fast forward," Magnus hisses, clearly struggling to hold the bond.

Castiel frowns at him but nods. He turns his face back to Dean. "I'm sorry. I know you never wanted that to happen. It's simply what the demon demands. It doesn't have to mean anything, okay?"

"What are you talking about, man?"

Castiel smiles at him. "I love you." And then he leans in and kisses him. It's chaste but after a moment of shock, Dean returns the kiss, and his hand cards through Castiel's hair. Thunder booms around them and dense fog separates the different duos. The demon disappears with a screeching noise and when the fog thins out, the places where the two couples were standing are empty.

"It worked!" the Doctor rejoices. Yaz grins at her. "Let's get to the boys."

"No, Mulder, this isn't a UFO. It's surely just a high-quality film set," a redhead in pantsuit and coat says as she strolls into the room.

"Scully!" the Doctor cheers. "Brilliant!"

[braddersbangerz]

10 and 11 please babe 🙈

"Get in the 'house, ya idiot," Dan shakes his head at the drenched man standing on his porch. "What the heck are you doin' in Liverpool?" He questions, stepping aside to let Graham shuffle in. "Thought ya were goin' back to Sheffield-"

"Change of plans, mate," Graham grimaces as he shrugs off his jacket. "Bus was cancelled-" He glances at Dan, spotting the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "-and don't laugh, yeah I know, ex-bus driver and a bus cancelled."

"I weren't gonna laugh," Dan lies. "Anyways, don't matter 'bout that now 'cos you need a place to stay fer tonight?"

Graham nods. "Yeah, I was gonna have a look around some hotels, but then I figured your house was quicker; I could have a look in a dry space, ya know?"

Dan quirks an eyebrow at Graham. "Why'd you wanna stay in a hotel when you can kip 'ere for tonight?"

"Oh, Nah, no, Dan-" Graham shakes his head. "-it's short notice, and I wouldn't wanna put you out."

"Nonsense, you daft cockney pillock," Dan rolls his eyes. "I know you southern lot have a different set of rules, but us northerners never let a mate kip outside or in a hotel when they can stay 'round, free of charge," He smiles at Graham. "Right, get ya clothes off-"

"Excuse me?" Graham blinks at Dan, surprised, and his face reddened. "Dan, I don't think-"

"Oh my days," Dan pinches the bridge of his nose. "You're soaking wet; I was gonna get you a pair of trackies and a shirt, Jesus, I weren't asking to shag you-"

Graham chokes and nods, feeling like a right dick head. "Course, sorry."

Dan nods and starts heading upstairs, turning around once he's halfway up with a curious expression on his face. "Unless you want to?"

"What?"

"You know," Dan shrugs and nods upstairs. "We can if you want?"

Graham's eyes narrow for a moment, locked against Dan's face. "You ain't kidding, are you?"

"Nope," Dan replies back. "Handsome bloke knocks at my door, soon figured out he was a friend," He takes a step down. "Gonna be honest with you, mate, thought has crossed me mind plenty of times."

Graham swallows thickly, his stomach twisting away. "Thought 'bout what?"

"What it'd be like to have you beneath me," Dan takes another step down. "Whispering my name breathlessly-" He pauses on the last step. "-coming apart in my hands as I take you for mine-"

Graham's brows knit together, his hand's fiddle with his damp shirt. "You're serious, aren't you?" He doesn't need Dan to answer the question; he can tell by his expression. "How long?"

"Happened not too long after that trip to that waterfall," Dan reveals, his eyes glancing away. "Your expression, how you held yourself, sharing stories with the locals, being a pal even though you didn't know me much back then, it only got worse as time went on."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't wanna ruin it," Dan mutters. "But I-" He looks back at Graham. "-you turning up here, tonight, I saw my chance, and I took it, regardless of what would happen, whether you'd turn me down or not, I needed to tell you."

"I see."

"So?"

Graham locks his eyes on Dan's hopeful face, but his mind lingers on the ache he feels in his heart. Would she approve? Would Ryan understand if he took a step with someone else? He'd never forget Grace, never could nor would, but is he ready? "Not tonight," He decides, and his heart breaks at the hurt look on Dan's face. "I mean," He sighs. "Sleeping together, I don't do that on the first night."

"Oh, so you mean-"

"Yes, Dan," Graham nods with a gentle smile. "Tomorrow we'll go out for dinner, all right? A date."

Dan beams at Graham. "A date."

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Home | Part Two

Pairing: 13!Doctor x Daughter!Reader, Graham x Reader (platonic)

Summary: while the fam are away, you and the Doctor have a mother/daughter bonding day

Word Count: 

Warning: none?

A/N: as always spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part One | Masterlist

- - - - -

The control room was unusually quiet. 

Living on the TARDIS for the past month with The Doctor and her three human companions, you’d gotten used to the sound of constant conversation. That’s why you liked going for your morning swim in the TARDIS pool room, it gave you a chance to get away on your own for a while. It’s not that you didn’t like being around them, its just after travelling alone for so long it was a shock to the system to now be travelling and living with four other people. 

Walking closer to the central control panel, towel in hand catching the water droplets falling from your post-swim wet hair, you spot The Doctor down in the hatch under the floor messing with various glowing wires. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, making her jump and she hits her head. “Sorry” you apologise, stifling a giggle as she rubs her hand against the point of impact on her scalp. 

“Just some basic maintenance on the old girl, making sure she’s ready for our Doctor Daughter bonding day” she says with a massive grin as she climbs back up on the main deck and closes the hatch. You look at her slightly confused.

“But, what about the others? Where are they?”

“Dropped them back on Earth while you were swimming. I do that every so often, give them a day to check in with friends and family and do whatever it is humans do. Usually get bored and travel 24hours ahead to pick them back up again but not this time. Me and you are going to have fun. So what do you want to do?” 

She stares at you expectantly like an excited puppy and you just look back at her, bewildered. 

“um…” you look around the TARDIS as you try to think of something to say and something catches your eye. A small tank full of liquid bubbling away and floating in the liquid… a severed hand. “What the…? Why do you have a hand in a jar?” You ask, making your way over to study it closer. 

“Oh that? I got into a sword fight with the leader of the Sycorax on Christmas Day and he cut off my hand. It grew back though. Anyway-”

“No hang on. That is not enough information. I want details. Who are the Sycorax? Why were you fighting them on Christmas Day? Do you even celebrate Christmas? How did your hand grow back? Why did you keep the old one?”

“It’s a long story”

“That’s fine, we’ve got a whole day. This is what I want to do today, I want to stay in the TARDIS and listen to your stories”

“Really? All the planets and galaxies we could be exploring and you want to sit here listening to me?”

“Absolutely! You’ve had such fascinating lives, I want to hear about them. All the planets you’ve saved, bad guys you’ve fought, people you’ve befriended. Everything… Please?”

She studies you for a moment then smiles, taking a seat on the steps.

“Fine. Make yourself comfortable, we’re going to be here for a while”

— — — — 

Almost three hours passed in the blink of an eye. You weren’t just listening to the Doctor talk, you were imagining it all. In your mind you were right there with her, fighting Daleks and Centurians and all sorts. But it wasn’t all fighting. She also told you about the fun times she’d had with past companions. She was just finishing telling you about a woman named River Song. 

“Wait… so, you're married?!” You exclaim

“Technically yes, but it’s complicated”

“You married the daughter of one of your companions…?”

“Like I said, complicated. Anyway-” she changes the subject “did I tell you about the time a woman in a wedding dress appeared in my TARDIS? One minute she’s walking down the aisle, the next minute she’s here. She actually ended up travelling with me for a bit, great woman Donna”

“Donna? The same Donna who was with you when I was created? That Donna?” 

“Yeah thats her. I forgot you two met”

“I loved Donna! She was so kind to me, I thought about her a lot actually while I was travelling. Can we visit her?”

The Doctor’s eyes suddenly fill with sadness and for a moment you think…

“Oh, did she-? Is she…?” You ask awkward, not quite able to bring yourself to finish the question. The Doctor looks at you confused before realising what you're asking.

“Oh! No! No no, she’s alive, she’s fine. She’s back on Earth with her family, married now too. She’s happy”

“That’s great” you breathe a sigh of relief “then why did you look so sad? You scared me!”

“She doesn’t remember me. She can’t ever remember me, or she will die.” 

“I, I’m so sorry” you whisper sadly

“She saved the universe and she has no idea.”

“What happened?” You ask but when The Doctor looks at you you realise she might not want to talk about it “I’m sorry you don't have tell me-”

“No it’s okay. She touched that” she gestures to the hand in the jar “and absorbed Time Lord DNA. She was human, but had the mind of a Time Lord. All that knowledge, it’s too much for any human. It was overwhelming her, killing her. So I went into her mind and erased it all. The knowledge, the adventures, me.”

“I don't understand. You went into her mind? How?” 

“Time Lord trick”

“Can I do it?” You ask and she studies you for a moment, thinking. 

“I’m not sure. Maybe. Try it” 

“What?”

“Try it now. With me.” She turns her body to face you and takes your hand, bringing your fingers up towards her face. “Focus. Empty your mind, and focus on trying to see mine.”

She gently pushes your hand till your index and middle finger are pressed against her temple and instantly your eyes close as you feel a strange sensation wash over you.

“I see a long corridor, lined with open doors” you describe

“That’s it. Choose one and look inside” she instructs quietly

You do as she says, and go to a door. You peek inside and see The Doctor with the fam, dressed in old fashioned clothes dancing with people you’ve never seen before.

“That’s the time we met Mary Shelley and Lord Byron. Strange night” 

You laugh and she tells you to try another door. You do and this time you see a man wearing a bow tie and a fez waving a mop around. 

“Ah that was when I exploded the TARDIS, creating a big bang to reset the universe.”

“Wait, that’s you? What are you wearing?!” You laugh and she gets defensive.

“Hey, bow ties are cool!” she protests

“I was talking about the fez”

“Also cool- just shut up and go to a different door”

You walk further down the corridor and stop at a door when you spot a man you recognise. Your father. He’s sitting on the floor cradling another wounded man. You hear him shouting at the man to regenerate, but he dies. You step away from the door as the Doctor sobs, clutching the dead mans corpse. It’s hard to see him like that.

“I’m sorry you saw that, I should have shut that door” the present Doctor says and you remove your hand from her face, opening your eyes to look into hers.

“Who was that?” 

“The Master, another Time Lord.”

“Another Time Lord? There are more? Can we visit them? Ooh, can we go to your planet-”

“No”

“Why not?! I want to see where you grew up, meet your family-”

“I said no” She says more firmly, startling you as she abruptly stands up and walks away “end of conversation”

“This isn’t fair! I’m one of them I have a right to meet my relatives!” You protest.

She spins around to look at you with such anger in her eyes you barely recognise her.

“No you don’t! You are nothing like them and I will never take you there so just leave it!”

She goes to the TARDIS control and starts fiddling with buttons before reopening the hatch she was working in this morning and climbing back down. She restarts working on wires and you silently watch her for a few moments before getting up and walking off down the TARDIS corridor to your room. You curl up in your bed and try to block out the Doctor’s harsh words. Instead you imagine what the other Time Lords and their planet would be like. It’s not long before you drift off into a light sleep. 

— — — — 

You're awoken not long later by the sound of the TARDIS engines, signalling that you were travelling. You rush out of your room back to the control room in time to see the fam coming back on board. The Doctor greets them in her usually cheery way but you cant help but feel hurt that she jumped forward to pick them up early. So much for Doctor Daughter bonding day. You quickly turn on your heels and go back to your room before anyone spots you. But someone does. 

A few moments later there’s a knock at your door and Graham pokes his head in.

“Alright cockle?” After the mix up during your first meeting Graham had actually become like a father figure to you and you found yourself confiding in him a lot. “What are you doing?” He asks when he spots you packing your few belongings into a backpack.

“Leaving. She clearly doesn’t want me around so-”

“Wait! What are you talking about?! Y/N stop!” He grabs your hands, stopping you from packing anymore and forcing you to look at him “What happened?”

“I asked her to take me to her planet, introduce me to the Time Lords. She got angry and shouted at me and then she skipped forward to pick you guys up early because she doesn’t want to spend time with me.” Your voice cracks slightly and you look away. 

“She does want to spend time with you Y/N, she’s just… awkward. Listen, we’ve all asked her multiple times about her home and every time she either shuts us down or changes the subject. She’s very private about all that stuff”

“But I’m her daughter! I’m the one person she should want to share that stuff with. Instead she told me that she’ll never take me there because I’m not a Time Lord.” You take a deep breath “What if she’s right? What if I’m not a real Time Lord? What am I?”

Graham sighs and shakes his head. 

“I don't know love, only you can answer that. And you know what, who cares if you're not some fancy shmancy Time Lord? I don’t. Ryan and Yaz don’t. We love you just the same, because you're amazing.” He places his hands on your shoulders and looks right into your eyes “You're Y/N! And that’s more than enough” he smiles at you.

“Thanks Graham” you give him a small smile “sometimes I wish you were my real dad” 

“A boring old man like me? Nah you don’t” he laughs “you unpack that bag and join us when you're ready okay?” 

You nod and he leaves the room. You replay his words in your head and sigh, unpacking your stuff again. When you're finished you head out into the control room and spend the rest of the evening chatting to Yaz about what she got up to with her family. 

— — — — 

The next morning you get out of bed early and get ready for your daily swim. You walk down the quiet corridors towards the pool room. The fam are still asleep at this time of morning so the TARDIS is nice and quiet. When you reach the pool you're surprised to see The Doctor stood waiting for you. She looks at you with an awkward apologetic smile as you walk over to her. 

“Never seen you in here before” you state emotionless.

“I want to show you something” 

“In the pool?” 

“No. I knew you always come here every morning and I needed to see you before the fam wake up”

“Okay?” You shrug

“Come with me” 

You follow her back out of the pool room and to the control room. She walks to the TARDIS door and steps out. You stop when you reach the door, cautiously looking out at where you were. 

Before you was a planet unlike any you’d seen. But it was on fire. The sky burnt orange as dark smoke rose from what was left of the buildings. You looked at The Doctor with confusion. 

“Welcome to Gallifrey. Home of the Time Lords” she holds her hand out to you and you take it, stepping out onto the dusty burnt ground. 

“This is your home?” 

“What’s left of it. It was destroyed.”

“By who?” You shake your head, unable to believe what your eyes are seeing.

“The Master.”

“Why? Why would anyone do this?” You feel your heart sinking the more you take it all in. Even though you’ve never been here before, it hurts to see it like this. 

“I don't know” she replies honestly, as she notices the tears filling your eyes “This is why I didn’t want to bring you here. I didn’t want you to see this. Not because I don't think you're a ‘real time lord’ or because I don't want to spend time with you”

You turn to her shocked, how did she know-

“Graham” you whisper to yourself

“He told me how upset you were. And then he told me off for causing it. I’m sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, I shouldn’t have taken this out on you. It’s not your fault. And you're right, you do have a right to know who you are, and where you come from. I will try to be more open with you.”

You look into her eyes and smile at her as you pull her into a hug. After a moment she pulls away and smiles back at you.

“Take as long as you need here then come back inside, okay?”

You nod and she walks back into the TARDIS, closing the door behind her. You turn back to look at the planet before you, taking a few steps closer. You take a seat on a small mound of burnt grass, bringing your knees up to your chest. You fold your arms over your knees and rest your chin on them, staring out at the planet imagining what it would have once looked like. 

“Beautiful isn’t it” an unknown male voice beside you. 

You look startled at the man who is now sat next to you. 

“Who are you?”

“Me? Im the one who created this masterpiece. You can call me… Master”

Then suddenly everything is dark. 

Part Three

[melodypond-thewomanwhomarriedme]

Can I request “You’re important too.” + “It doesn’t bother me.” + doctor/river??

She never felt this self-conscious before.

Well, not when it came to River - especially when it came to River. River loved her in every body before this and why shouldn't she do the same just because a few things changed down there?

Still, she couldn't help the niggle of doubt circling the back of her mind. She'd had over three days to prepare for this - for seeing her for the first time after the Library planet was set to self-destruct to prevent the Vashta Nerada from spreading beyond the planet.

She still recalled the dazed way in which she stumbled to the nurses of the Infinite Schism, begging to see River and demanding that she be told what happened. The feline nurses gently patted her hand and assured her that River would be fine, but she needed immediate and careful attention, and subsequent procedures were to take over 80 hours at most.

She was almost glad that she dropped off Yaz, Ryan and Graham before answering their call. She didn't know what she would say to them if they were here - explaining that she was married and that her wife had died - but apparently not - was not the conversation she wanted to be having right now.

And River - River. Her brilliant wife. Her clever, beautiful, utterly amazing wife. She was here. Right here, somewhere in this hospital, weak and unsteady but wonderfully, blessedly alive.

The Doctor never, ever allowed herself to think what would happen if this happened again. Never allowed herself to hope - but oh, of course her amazing wife did the job herself. She never waited for anyone, least of all the Doctor. She ran on her own time, she followed her own plan, and the Doctor was never happier about that fact than she was now.

So when one of the nurses finally approached her to say that River was fine and resting in one of the rooms, the Doctor found herself trembling slightly as she walked slowly towards her. It was hard to comprehend that every step she took brought her closer and closer to the incredible reality that was River Song, alive.

She looked down at herself and wondered if she would recognize her - she hadn't recognised her in her previous body. She didn't know that she's regenerated since Darillium. Would she be disappointed that she was a woman?

The Doctor doubted so - River never was that fussy about genders or sexuality, but she thought about it all the same. It was hard, she supposed, to predict how her wife would react after a century of not seeing her - longer, in the computer.

The door was slightly ajar as the Doctor approached the room cautiously. She didn't know why she shook with the anticipation of seeing River; couldn't understand why her hearts palpitated as if she were confronting some long sworn enemy. She just forced herself to look ahead, and she peeked inside the room.

She didn't consider herself the emotional kind. Compared to Bowtie, she was fairly in control of her feelings. She could hold her tears when she wanted to, stomp down her anger when she needed and feigned indifference countless times in front of the fam.

But the sight of River in the room, her hair spread on the pillow and sleeping, brought tears to her eyes instantly. Flashes of River sleeping in their bed in the Tardis, in their house in Darillium, in various hotels all over times and space flashed across her mind at a rapid pace.

She gripped the doorknob tighter and swallowed, breathing deeply. She watched, marvelled, as River's chest rose and fell as she took in deep breaths, and it was all the Doctor could do not to run to River and sob over her, to shake her and make her promise never to leave her side again.

Before the Doctor could even take a step, however, River stirred. The Doctor froze at the door, unable to move as River blinked blearily.

"Sweetie," she croaked, her voice rough and coarse. She barely seemed to notice her surroundings, her eyes hazy as they swept over the room, unseeing. "Sweetie, please."

She closed her eyes again.

The Doctor seemed to stumble forwards, flailing helplessly as she tried to cross the room in as little time as possible. Her vision was blurred by the tears rapidly building in her eyes and she collapsed by the side of River's bed, grasping onto a high-backed chair.

Her lips trembled as she looked over her wife and studied her closely. She was pale, so pale she looked almost ghost-like. Her lips were dry and chapped, and the hospital gown was overly large for her, but all the Doctor could see was her. River.

Hesitantly, she reached out to touch River's face. The instant she made contact with her skin, tears poured out of her eyes. She was warm. She was warm and real and safe.

Her hands trailed to her hair, combing the curly tresses out of her face and fanning it out neatly along her pillow, carefully avoiding the various tubes attached to her.

"Hello, sweetie." she whispered to her shakily. Her lips trembled as she tried to smile down at her wife, but the amount of tears she was producing made it impossible for her to appear happy in any way. "You're home."

Almost as though the Doctor's voice had awoken her, River started to stir again. This time her eyes blinked the haziness away and she focused immediately upon the Doctor, staring at her with a mixture of awe, happiness, relief and fear.

"Doctor," she croaked again, her voice still weak and hoarse. "Doctor, you've changed."

The Doctor looked down at her fondly, stroking her hair sweetly. "You haven't. Still getting yourself into trouble."

River smiled, and the Doctor felt her hearts soar at her expression. "Always." She looked the Doctor up and down. "A woman?"

The Doctor smiled hesitantly. "Like the upgrade?"

"It certainly doesn't bother me," River said. The Doctor is in awe at her ability to inject even an ounce of suggestiveness when she's lying in a hospital death, having nearly escaped the brush of death.

She beamed at her wife, sniffing slightly. "I'm glad you're here, River."

River nods. "Me too, darling."

"I should let you rest." the Doctor starts, reluctantly removing her hand from River's hair and replacing it by her side. "But I will be here, River. Whenever you need me, I promise I'll be right here until you're ready to go home."

"You don't need to stay, sweetie," River said, her voice getting weaker but her eyes more determined. "I promise I'll be just fine until you come back from whatever important business you've got going on."

"You're the important business, River," the Doctor replied. "You're important too. In fact, you're the most important business I have. Everyone else needs an appointment, you know?"

"Don't I feel special," she teased, but it was clear that the drowsiness was slowly taking hold of her again as her eyes started drooping slightly. "Doctor." she whispered, as she slid into slumber once more.

"Hmm?" the Doctor asked softly, reaching out to take River's hand in hers.

"I'm glad you're here."

[owl-with-a-pen]

(SO, Last night’s Doctor Who episode gave me some major inspiration. I decided to turn that inspiration into a quick fic that may be expanded upon ever so slightly in the future.)

SUMMARY: The Doctor has always hated endings. She shouldn’t be sad about it. She isn’t sad about it. No, instead, it gives her an idea.

After all, she isn’t bound by Time Lord laws anymore. And there’s one person she had always been meaning to save...

It’d been a long two decades.

Maybe not the longest two decades she’d ever lived, maybe not even close, but in the grand scheme of things, it had certainly felt longer than most.

All that time to think, and… what conclusions had she made?

Well, for starters, intergalactic prison food was terrible. All the nutrients required for a dozen or so assorted species packed into one solid brick of barely ingestible material. Honestly, she would have preferred to go without. But then it would’ve been harder to think. And she’d really needed to think.

Okay, what else?

Angela? Terrible neighbour. Literally the worst. Couldn’t get a wink in with her buzzing about. Plus, having Silent Bob next door had made thinking very difficult. Couldn’t focus on a single thing without it washing away the second she glanced in the wrong direction.

At least she’d been able to hold a conversation with the Ood.

Love an Ood. Even an ill-tempered one.

Doing it again, Doctor. She was missing the point. The big ol’ elephant in the room that she was getting particularly good at avoiding.

Had she seen any elephants in that prison? Bit odd. Odd as the Ood. Did they have something against elephants?

Focus.

Two decades. No closer. She was no closer to figuring out who she was, the identities that were hers and hers alone. That had been taken from her. Erased by higher forces just to keep her in check.

And it burned. Deep inside her chest, igniting both her hearts, making it difficult to breathe.

Or, maybe that was just prisons for you. Not like they made it easy for you to do anything. Although, she supposed breathing was pretty necessary to live out your sentence.

Seven thousand offences. She would’ve needed to breathe for a very long time.

She’d lost Ryan.

Lost Graham.

Her fam. Gone in an instant. Quicker than a blink, really. Faster than a Weeping…

“They’re not gone,” the Doctor said.

It was the first thing she’d said in a while. Out loud, at least. No one to talk to at the moment. 

The TARDIS rumbled affectionately beneath her hand, sending a calming pulse through her fingers as she continued to fiddle with various dials.

Well, maybe that wasn’t necessarily true.

The Doctor’s lips twitched. She ran her thumb along one of the TARDIS’s nodules, grinning when it flashed an encouraging blue. “Been a while since we talked, hasn’t it mate?”

Yaz was somewhere within the TARDIS. If the Doctor had wanted, she could have opened a psychic link with her ship, noted her exact coordinates. They could’ve talked, too.

Maybe the TARDIS was prodding her to do just that. Maybe she didn’t want to be prodded.

“Okay,” the Doctor relented. “They are gone. But, just from me. That’s not too shabby, now, is it? They’re safe. Ryan and Graham. Defenders of Planet Earth.” Her smile weakened. “Maybe Jack can push ‘em in the right direction. Didn’t wanna get too involved, thought it’d be best for them to find their footing on their own. Although, maybe a couple of calls wouldn’t hurt.”

The TARDIS made a soft whirr, a clanking groan following soon after from somewhere at her centre. The Doctor’s fingers clenched across the console. “Too soon? Maybe they need space.” She blinked. “Then again, we are already half a galaxy away.”

She felt the TARDIS’s thoughts probe gently against her mind. They weren’t thoughts in the predominately biological sense of the term. It was an impression of thought, really, like warm water tickling her brains. She knew what it meant, what it always meant.

And, distantly, the TARDIS procured something recent of hers. A fresh memory, still buzzing at the surface.

It’s okay to be sad.

The Doctor shuddered. “No, mate. Don’t play that game.”

The TARDIS groaned again.

“Why?” the Doctor asked, baring her teeth. “You know why. I’m not sad. How can I be? They’re off doing their own thing. They’re happy.” The last word travelled morosely around the room, punctuated by every metal wall it bounced across.

The Doctor reached restlessly for something to fiddle with, turning a gear that offered no further progression to their journey. They weren’t positioned for time travel right then, after all. Just space. Just… exploration. Idle movement. Something to do while Yaz caught her bearings.

She needed time. Plenty of that about on a time machine, after all. She’d be okay. Just needed some human comforts. Food and sleep – both of which the TARDIS was happy to provide to her in abundance. Maybe the Doctor should have gone to her.

It’s okay to be sad.

No. No, no, she wasn’t opening that one. It was silly, really, not something worth focusing on. Besides, there was so much more she needed to think about.

“Ten months,” she murmured. “Lots can change in ten months. Ten years. Ten decades. Ten…” She stopped, her mouth falling open. “Ten,” she repeated, a little surer of herself. Her lips twitched fondly. “Haven’t thought about you in a while, have I?”

She glanced up, narrowing her eyes. That was something to focus on. Something she quite liked, actually. No, even better. This was a plan.

And a plan meant she could think.

The Doctor skirted around the TARDIS, trailing her fingers along every bump and notch until she found what she was looking for. One of the data screens, reeling information about their current location. Nothing too fancy for the moment.

The Doctor grabbed at its handle, pulling it down towards her. Her mind was beginning to whir again, that familiar clank of gears not too dissimilar from her own ship’s. She caught the flash of her own eyes in the screen’s reflection, a ghostly image with a toothy grin, ready to enact a plan. The best plan.

“Y’know,” the Doctor said, engaging with her ship once again. “I used to play it safe, always so considerate that I had these set amount of lives. It was the Time Lord way.” She reached out blindly, wrapping her hand around a familiar lever. “But, it got me thinking. I’m not a Time Lord, am I? Actually, I don’t know what I am. But… time is still the same. Same rules apply. My rules, though?”

She caught something in her reflection. A darkness settling comfortably behind the shimmer of her eyes. She looked away, staring adamantly at her console. Her TARDIS.

“Ryan and Graham are safe. But I saved… I saved someone else. A long time ago. Too long ago.” She closed her eyes, gritting her teeth. A sharp pulse shot through the Doctor’s chest, teasing her hearts with a new fire.

She could do this.

“I saved her. But, that wasn’t enough,” the Doctor continued. “I could’ve done more. Could’ve…” She sucked in a breath, shaking her head. “But I can now, can’t I, mate? ‘Cos I’m not who I thought I was. I’m more. More than any of ‘em.” She clenched her free hand, lifting it towards her chest, feeling both hearts thrill inside. “Maybe I still don’t know everything. Maybe I’ve got a lot to learn. But, one thing I do know is that I have exactly what it takes to bring her back.”

The Doctor’s hand tightened firmly around the lever, pushing it down with a rattling thud.

“I got more lives than I ever thought possible,” she murmured. When she looked up at the screen again, she no longer saw her own eyes staring back at her. Instead, a new face took up every inch of visible space. Or, should she say, an old face.

River’s eyes, both old and young at the same time, stared back at the Doctor. An abundance of densely packed curls framing her face, a crease in her eyes as she grinned out from the photograph she’d given her a good century ago, at least. 

A face the Doctor hadn’t seen in so long. A face she ached to see again.

“Guess what?” the Doctor asked, bracing herself as the TARDIS shuddered into action. She grinned tightly, a power she hadn’t felt in quite some time resurfacing within her. “I’m gonna use one of them to save you.”

[wordsablaze]

Revolutionary Embrace

When it's just the two of them left in the tardis, Thirteen and Yaz finally get round to the just as awkward but much softer and sincere reunion they both deserve...

A/N: happy new year !! thought i'd start 2021 with a lil thasmin fix-it because i just want our space girlfriends to be happy <3

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“It’s okay to be sad.”

Yaz doesn’t take her eyes off the Doctor, not even after the tardis doors quietly click shut and both of them are left standing in silence, save for the quiet thrumming of the tardis around them.

Thirteen sighs and turns, finally taking her eyes off the doorway but still unsure how to approach the dangerously soft look in Yaz’s eyes, the one she’s seen so many times before, the one she’s regretted causing in the first place so many times before.

“Yaz, I…”

When she doesn’t continue, Yaz sighs, walking over so she’s leaning on the railing directly beside the Doctor. “It’s okay. I’m sure they won’t mind if you visit every now and then.”

Well, that’s really not what Thirteen had thought she’d want to talk about. She blinks, then shakes her head, grinning sheepishly. “I’m not very good at timing the whole ‘now and then’ thing.”

The tardis seems to thrum louder at that, perhaps in sympathy or perhaps in outrage, and both of them laugh awkwardly. Yaz leans a little closer, gently nudging the doctor with her elbow. “Hey, did you really mean to come back as soon as you’d left?”

Ah, so they are going into that after all. Thirteen sighs, letting her head drop as she exhales. As much as she appreciates the way Yaz is waiting patiently for an answer, she hates the quiet between them. It feels cold and wrong and nothing like the way things should be. Not for the first time, she wishes she could turn back the clock and try again.

“Yes,” she answers eventually. “Yes, of course, I really thought I set the coordinates right. I didn’t mean to be gone so long, I swear.”

Yaz hums in acknowledgement. “You, uhm, you were smiling. When you got back, that is. Was that just for our benefit then, so we wouldn’t know how long you’d been gone?”

It’s almost frightening, the way Thirteen doesn’t even know who she is anymore but Yaz can still read her like an open book. Maybe it’s the new body, she thinks, and there’s something about her face in this regeneration that makes her easier to decipher. Maybe it has something to do with Yaz being the first person she really interacted with in this new body, she thinks, and something had blossomed between them because of that. Maybe-

“Doctor?” Yaz asks softly, pulling her out of her musings.

Thirteen lifts her head up again and offers Yaz a smile. “Gold star for Yaz.”

“How long were you in... space prison?” Yaz asks, her voice somehow even quieter than before, so quiet that even the tardis seems to pause her thrumming so none of the words get lost in the mostly but not entirely metaphorical distance between them.

She thinks of the tally marks, the endless strikes of white against uncaring stone walls, and the way she could navigate her daily walk or narrate every creature she goes past even in her sleep by the time Jack had made his way inside. She thinks of every time she’d wished she could leave and every time she’d wished she could see her lovely team back on earth again. She thinks of the clothes she’d been made to wear and how they were so impersonal, nothing like the outfit she’d picked out for herself with the help of the others, and how she’d felt so unlike herself in them.

Turning to face Yaz properly, Thirteen sighs. “Too long, Yaz, too long.”

“I’m sorry,” Yaz murmurs as if any of this could possibly be her fault.

Thirteen shakes her head. “It’s not your fault. Seeing you all again was the only thing that mattered. Did you guys miss me?” she half-jokes.

Yaz chuckles but her fingers are clenched into fists and her eyebrows are furrowed into a strange frown. Without thinking, Thirteen reaches for Yaz’s hands, covering them with her own and waiting as Yaz’s eyes widen in surprise before she looks up, something like hope shining in her beautiful brown eyes.

“I missed you. Every day. All of you! My wonderful, brilliant fam…” She trails off as the hope inside Yaz’s eyes fades into something darker, something more dismal and disappointed, but she doesn’t stop talking. “I knew Ryan and Graham would be there for each other, they’re great when they’re not bickering! But I’d hoped- well, I’d hoped I could be back before you... I didn’t want to leave you alone, Yaz.”

Yaz’s fingers slowly unfurl but instead of moving closer, she shakes her head and steps backwards, her hands slipping out from under the Doctor’s as she blinks slowly, clearly trying to calm herself down. “I wasn’t alone, Ryan and Graham came by a lot and I- I didn’t always notice how much time had passed, you know? Must be something to do with being inside the tardis, I guess.”

Thirteen nods. “Yeah, the tardis is pretty great, she’s… she always seems to know what to do.”

The tardis seems to thrum in approval but then she goes quiet again and Thirteen can literally feel the way that’s just to let her know it’s her turn to comfort their human now. She just wishes she knew how.

“So what do you say we celebrate the new year in the Meringue galaxy anyway?”

Yaz slips her hands into her pockets and nods slowly, half a smile blooming on her face. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, that sounds nice. I don’t even remember the last time I ate one of those anyway so it should be fun.”

Thirteen smiles back, hesitating for only a moment before reaching her left hand out towards Yaz. She hadn’t predicted the way Yaz’s expression seems to crumple but before she can panic about it, Yaz has thrown herself forwards, this time not to shove her away but to pull her close, Yaz’s arms looping around the Doctor’s neck almost desperately as she bites back a sob.

Her breath hitches but Thirteen lets herself relax into the embrace, slowly curling her own arms around Yaz and letting her eyes slip shut as she breathes in the scent of leather and lavender, a genuine smile growing on her face as the air around them fills with warmth, a warmth she’d almost forgotten could even exist.

“I missed you too,” Yaz mumbles into her shoulder, her voice thick and on the verge of breaking. Thirteen pulls Yaz closer in response, tightening her grip as the tardis thrums happily above them.

“I’m sorry for disappearing,” Thirteen whispers, “but I promise to try and never let you down.”

Yaz sighs but shows no sign of wanting to pull away, her fingers staying firmly curled around the Doctor’s jacket as if trying to physically anchor them together, as if she doesn’t believe they’re not going to be separated again, as if she expects Thirteen to disappear as soon as she lets go.

It’s not like Thirteen is complaining. She loves the feel of Yaz in her arms, she loves the way the rest of existence doesn’t seem to matter as much when she has Yaz’s arms around her, and she loves the way they fit together so well. It seems a shame they’ve waited so long to do this and for a moment, Thirteen wishes she could go back in time and do it earlier, before the whole mess of ten missing months.

“Thank you for coming back,” Yaz says after what feels like forever, pulling back just enough for their eyes to meet but still mostly wrapped around one another. “I was worried we’d never see you again.”

Thirteen shakes her head. “Oh, Yaz. The tardis and I couldn’t stand to have this universe without you, or any other universe really. I honestly can’t think of a single universe that wouldn’t want a Yaz!”

This time, Yaz’s smile fills her face, small crinkles emerging beside her eyes and a soft blush dancing across her cheeks. “I think I’ll just stick with you, Doctor.”

The tardis thrums in agreement.

“Well, I can’t argue with that!” Thirteen grins, pleased with the way Yaz laughs brightly and making a note to have more moments like this in the future.

When they finally, finally pull themselves apart from their warm embrace, Yaz carefully slides her fingers between the Doctor’s. Thirteen beams at her, squeezing her hand before going to start both the tardis engines and their journey to celebrate the new year properly.

It won’t be same as the last time they’d all gone to see nineteen different fireworks displays but somehow the change doesn’t seem so bad anymore, not when Yaz is smiling like her dreams have come true and the tardis is thrumming as if the whole universe is at peace and Thirteen finally feels like she’s truly back home.

Robertson may have been majorly wrong about the daleks being revolutionary but Thirteen can safely say she has no doubt that Yaz most definitely is.

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this was very self-indulgent tbh but hey, maybe someone else can find a lil enjoyment in a thasmin hug :)

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thanks for reading !! masterlist | doctor who blog: @thasmine