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how-masterful · 3 years

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To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards.

It was a fruitless effort.

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband.

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise.

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious.

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation.

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top- grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate.

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted.

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap.

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

#doctor who #sacha dhawan #the master #bbc doctor who #dhawan!master #bbc #sacha!master #spymaster #doctor who season twelve #dhawan!master / reader #dhawan!master x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #master x you #the master x you #the master x reader #reader #reader insert

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doccywhomst · 3 years

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Hey!! I've been trying to use your gallifreyan alphabet and it's really neat :D

I just have a question- where do we start reading the words like- how you read the sentences? What word to start with? I'm confused.

Your system is so cool seriously

Thank you!! 🥺 So, my sentences tend to be a little wonky when I write notes, but if you want to write something more legible and permanent, this might be helpful:

First sentence (above): "This is how you could write a sentence." Writing in straight-ish lines from left to right or right to left works perfectly fine, and you can use letters with lines (like S, C/K, H, or N) to connect one word to the next, as long as those lines don't completely touch the other word. Sometimes, if the words share the same final letter, like "this" and "is", you can fully connect them!

The second sentence (above): "Or you could write it more like this instead." If you know how long your sentence is ahead of time, you can write it in a spiral moving inwards - alternatively, you could do a spiral moving outwards, if it's more of a rambling sentence that needs lots of space. Here's an example of an outward spiral:

"When I write in Gallifreyan, it tends to be pretty abstract and free-form because I don't write in many full sentences, unlike English." (my pen ran out at the VERY end, wow) Most of the time, my notes are just contain keywords and small phrases, so entire sentences aren't common.

I hope this helped!!!

#doctor who #gallifreyan #circular gallifreyan #whovian #conlang

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melodypond-thewomanwhomarriedme · 4 years

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"It's okay, I couldn't sleep anyway." for 13/river? thanks!

The Doctor sat up from bed, turning on her side to look at River. Finding each other again was such amazing luck on the Doctor’s end - after watching Gallifrey burn yet again, after the Master, after the Cybermen and Time Lords merged into one as the most destructive race in existence, after discovering the mind-boggling truth of how she came to be - she wanted nothing more than to rush into the arms of someone, anyone who knew who she was.

The universe had compromised, it seemed, and given her River; the one person who knew her better than anyone - even herself.

It was with tearful kisses and extra-tight embraces that they greeted each other again. Their reunion was nothing but blissful serendipity, hour after hour spent laying in each other’s arms and exchanging sweet, hungry kisses every time their lips met until they fell asleep.

But now the Doctor was awake. She could not help but feel so grateful to River for being here - for showing up just when she needed her. Of course she would; she was clever and she always knew when the Doctor needed her. She just wished that she could enjoy this undeserving miracle that came out of nowhere.

But her dreams were full of those mutant Cybermen and Gallifrey on fire; her being trapped in the matrix and using memories of herself to break out. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around River and stay curled up in their bed until the universe ended and turned to dust - she could not contemplate ever stepping outside the Tardis feeling how she does right now.

“Sweetie?” came River’s quiet voice, filled with sleep and confusion.

The Doctor took a moment to shut her eyes and savour the feeling that came over her at the sound of her wife’s voice. She’d almost forgotten just how much of her wife she missed - the way her hair was simply everywhere as they slept, the way she crinkled her nose as she snored, the way she curled into her in her sleep, the way her voice sounded particularly sexy when she woke up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” the Doctor responded quietly, turning back to her and smiling fondly. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

But River frowned, blinking blearily as the Doctor stared at her. That was another thing she almost forgot - how goddamn adorable she looked when she was still waking up.

She sat up and reached out for the Doctor’s shoulder, her hand curving to accommodate the Doctor’s small size. “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she lied, and when the Doctor gave her a disbelieving look she rolled her eyes and conceded. “Alright, I just want to feel you next to me while I sleep. Is that a crime?”

“No,” the Doctor grinned at her wife. “That is perfectly fine.”

“Good.” River nodded, though her lips turned into a small smile at the look on the Doctor’s face. She raised her hand and cupped the Doctor’s cheek, her finger lightly tracing under her eye. River’s smile turned fond and reverent as she looked at the Doctor. “What’s bothering you, sweetie?”

The Doctor sighed fondly at River. “You always know, don’t you? Always so clever,” she said, shaking her head as her own hand reached up to circle River’s wrist gently. She pulled her hand down and started tracing Gallifreyan words and symbols across her palm. “I went back to Gallifrey. Remember how I told you it was saved?”

River nodded.

“The Master - he destroyed it. Burned it to dust. When I went there, everything was ruined - only smoke and ash left,” the Doctor said quietly, and River instinctively moved closer towards her on the bed as the Doctor traced the word fire into her hand. “And he said that he discovered the truth about all Time Lords. That we weren’t what we were told - that I wasn’t what I was told.”

“He must have been lying,” said River, frowning and shaking her head. The Doctor wrote the word truth across her palm this time. “He just wanted to cause trouble.”

“That’s what I thought,” the Doctor said wryly, but then she sighed and looked down at River’s hand again, this time tracing the word lies. “But then he proved it to me. He showed me - I’m the Timeless Child, River. I came out of nowhere, dropped from the sky on Gallifrey. I should have died after falling off a cliff but my mum - she found me again, but I was different. With another body. She conducted experiments on me. She spliced my DNA into Gallifreyans and - and -”

“Doctor,” River said in horror. “Doctor, she experimented on you?”

“I don’t remember it,” the Doctor shook her head. In River’s palm, she traced memories. “I don’t remember anything. I was used by the Time Lords. I - I had whole other lives I don’t remember, River. Lives I lived, people I met - and each time they simply reset the clock so I would forget it.”

“Sweetie,” River whispered emphatically, her voice shaking. “Sweetie, I am so, so sorry.”

“I don’t know who I am, River.” the Doctor whispered to her. She looked up at her wife and saw tears in her eyes. Her own vision was clouded by tears too and she sniffed, grasping River’s hand. “I wanted to find you. I thought... if anyone knew who I was it would be you.”

River smiled softly at her, squeezing her hand in comfort. “Of course, darling. You’re the best person I’ve ever known,” she said softly, lifting their hands to press a wet kiss to the back of the Doctor’s hand. “You are great and kind and you save so many - you’ve helped so many. You are more than the DNA they stole from you, my love. You are good. And good people - they’re hard to come by.”

The Doctor let out a shaky breath as she looked at her wife, staring until her eyes burned with tears that fell. She bowed her head and pressed their hands to her chest, feeling more thankful than ever that River was back again. She cried into her hand for a few moments before lifting her head and looking at River, who watched her with the most loving, tender expression on her face.

“I love you, River Song,” the Doctor whispered hoarsely, her eyes rimmed red as she stared up at her wife with eyes that expressed just how devoted she felt to her. Affection gushed up inside her for her wife and she knew that only River could give her that kind of assurance with merely a few words; she would only accept that from River. “I’m so, so happy you’re back.”

She pulled away from her hands and traced the word home into her palm. River smiled faintly, her eyes still full of tears as she stared at the blatant adoration and affection that the Doctor so readily displayed for her.

“Home,” the Doctor whispered. “It finally feels like home with you here.”

#drfic #doctor/river #dwfic #spacewives #space wives #13/river #13 x river #thirteen x river #river x thirteen #river x 13 #nat's tumblr fics #thirteenth doctor #river song

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doctenwho · 4 years

Text

Lured Desire

Hello! Thank you for the prompt! I’m glad you liked Not a Cat Person! Sorry this took a bit, you caught me in the process of moving! This was alot of fun to write when I finally figured out how to make it work! I wrote this three times; it got deleted once, I forgot what I was doing once (that one’ll probably be made into something else), and then there was this copy!

Hopefully it’s close to what you’re looking for! I tried to follow your prompt as best as I could, so I hope you like it!

Summary: Check out the prompt!

Warnings: I don’t think there really is any for this one.

Word Count: 6,524

*Gif is not mine, credit to the creator*

The landing was rough. Unexpected. It was enough to rattle both you and the Doctor to the floor.

You lost your footing, falling backwards. You managed to catch yourself on the guard rail behind you, but it didn’t really offer much as a way to balance. Not when the whole of the TARDIS was quaking with the rails. The Doctor had been flung from the console as well, but he was quick to get back to his feet and start pushing buttons and pulling levers to try and steady the TARDIS.

You pulled yourself to your feet, keeping a strong grip on the railing. The TARDIS was still moving, shaking and plummeting. You didn’t need the Doctor to tell you that the TARDIS was crashing, you’d been in enough TARDIS crashes to know when it was happening.

Besides, even if you did attempt to talk to the Doctor, he probably wouldn’t even acknowledge you. He did really have better things to be worried about if his TARDIS was crash landing. There wasn’t much he could do, but there was always something that could make things easier—less messy.

It took a few minutes for it to stop feeling like you were dropping right out of the air, and for the floor to stop vibrating and settle on solid ground. The Doctor still didn’t seem pleased, a foul look on his face as his hands shot out to fidget with different parts of the control console.

You let him work in silence for a few more minutes, waiting in case anything more happened that could result in you falling on your arse, before cautiously making your way towards the man doing stressed circles around the TARDIS console.

“What happened?” you asked as you approached him. He barely paused in his movement. His hands were still busy, like the time and space ship was still falling, which you were quite sure wasn’t the case. He glanced at you briefly, then turned his attention towards the screen he’d pulled away so you couldn’t see. “Did we crash?”

“No,” the Doctor replied sharply without so much as a glance in your direction. “We didn’t crash, we fell. We fell a bit and then settled. There’s a difference, (y/n).”

“Okay,” you frowned, moving closer to him so you could see what he was doing. A crash was a crash to you, falling usually resulted in a crash, but you weren’t about to go against the Doctor when he was already so riled up.

“We fell, and it doesn’t make sense,” the Doctor muttered, but you weren’t too sure whether he was talking to you, or just speaking aloud to himself, “it doesn’t make sense. How could we have...”

His voice faded off, as he hunched into reading whatever was on the screen. Most of it was in what you assumed was Gallifreyan—something the Doctor would do when he didn’t want you to see what was happening. The TARDIS wouldn’t translate her mother tongue, so it was a failsafe for the man to revert things to Gallifreyan instead of English so you couldn’t read along.

With him completely distracted by the screen, you moved towards the doors. He didn’t seem to notice you, and if he did, he didn’t bother saying anything. You don’t know what overcame you—you never acted before the Doctor explained more.

Alien planets, or different time periods weren’t to messed around with. Especially without the Doctor’s incite. You’d never just gone to open a door, but something was pulling you towards the doors. Towards what was on the other side of the doors. Whatever was out there...

The doors opened easily, and you peeked your head out to see what was around you.

“Uh, Doctor?” You blinked, taking a step out to gaze around you. You could faintly see the man’s head look up from the screen inside the TARDIS out of the corner of your eye, but you were too busy studying your surroundings to really take note of the complete alarm in his eyes.

“(Y/N)!” the Doctor’s voice called, when he finally took notice of your absence. The man’s eyes shot around the room hurriedly, before falling on the open doors. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, your absence in the TARDIS console room and the open doors.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled as he shot around the console to pull you back into the TARDIS. “We’re floating through--” the man froze when he reached the doorway, hand locked on your elbow with a tight, protective grip. He looked around, studying everything with an expression of disbelief and utter confusion, “we’re... we’re landed in a hallway?”

You glanced back to the man holding you securely, though you weren’t so sure it was needed when you were stood on solid ground, before looking back down the hallway.

It was a long hallway; you couldn’t even see the end of it. It was beige walls, with lines of white trim leading down along the bottom of the floor. The floor was carpeted, a neat tan that matched perfectly with the beige and white trim. There was a line of circular light fixtures spread about five feet apart, leading down the center of the ceiling, all the way down the hallway as far as you could see.

The walls were lined with large photo frames, they were wooden; a sturdy looking wood, that had been carved to the smallest detail, stained dark brown and completely identical all the way along the hallway.

Everything was completely symmetrical, lining up perfectly with an exact copy on the wall across from it.

The frames were empty, from what you could see where you stood. There was a blank sheet of canvas, or cardstock, or maybe even a blank photograph from a polaroid. None of the frames in your line of sight had anything more than a blank center.

“What is this place?” you question quietly, managing to draw your attention away from the walls and frames before you, to glance back at the Doctor’s attentive eyes sweeping over everything. You couldn’t place any of the emotions crossing the Doctor’s face, it was a flurry of multiple—

“Noh,” the Doctor said softly, more to himself. He took a step back into the TARDIS, pulling you in with him by the grip on your arm. When your feet were back on the solid TARDIS flooring, the Doctor released his grip on you and took another step back, “no, no, no.” He moved quickly back to the console, pulling the screen towards him, “that can’t be right. That’s not... it can’t be right. It’s impossible.”

“What can’t be right?” you asked with a frown, following behind the Doctor. The screen was back to English, but to be fair, you still needed the Doctor to explain things to you. To you, it was all science-y mumbo-jumbo—which was barely a step up from Gallifreyan.

“We’re in orbit still,” the Doctor pointed out on the screen. “The TARDIS is currently in orbit. We’re not... we can’t be landed. That,” he gestured wildly to the open TARDIS doors, “shouldn’t exist, we’re orbiting space, (Y/N), there aren’t corridors and, and photo frames in space.”

The Doctor stepped away from the control panel, letting out a groan-growl as he carded his fingers through his mussed hair roughly, “it’s impossible. We literally aren’t landed on anything. The TARDIS says we’re still moving, that we’re still orbiting.” The Doctor paced back and forth, anxiously, “what’s out there doesn’t exist—shouldn't exist. We’re caught in orbit, on some sort of platform that doesn’t exist. On something that the TARDIS, who recognizes everything, doesn’t recognize.”

“Are you sure the TARDIS is right?” you asked softly, leaning to look out the doors. The Doctor turned to glare at you, opening his mouth to defend his TARDIS, but you continued before he could, “it looks pretty real to me. I was standing out there before, and it was... it was like walking on carpet. Didn’t feel space-y at all.”

“The TARDIS isn’t wrong.” the Doctor scoffed on the time and space machine’s behalf, “the TARDIS has never been wrong. We’re in orbit, (Y/N). We’re stuck in orbit on... on whatever it is out there. I don’t even know what that is.”

“It seems alright to me,” you really had no idea where that came from, “we should look around.”

“You want to look around a strange space platform that the TARDIS says doesn’t even exist?”

“Uhm... yeah?”

“And you’re alright?” the Doctor asked carefully, taking a couple steps towards you. You raised a questioning eyebrow and frowned at him. “You’ve been traveling with me for ages and not once have you been so sure about a planet—about anything like this. You’re hesitant about planets I assure you are completely fine, but now, when I tell you something’s not right, you want to explore?”

“Of course I’m alright,” you scoffed, “I just want to explore a bit, what’s so bad about that? It looks like earth, like some kind of weird earth museum, or something. Besides, don’t you want to see what’s at the end of the hallway?”

The Doctor studied you for a moment, then studied the open doors of the TARDIS for a moment as well, before he looked back at you. He really didn’t like disappointing his companions, and he was always up for an adventure.

The Doctor seemed to be seriously debating it.

“We really should leave, we don’t know this place, or who or what inhabits it,” he huffed, “but I'm intrigued now. You’re right, I do want to see what’s out there. A hallway in the middle of space, orbiting on its own—and not only that, a hallway that drew in the TARDIS. It’s impossible, completely impossible, but brilliant all the same!”

The Doctor paused, seeming to shake himself from his excitement, “are you completely sure you want to go? I have no idea what’s out there, or what’s at the end of the hallway. This is here for a reason; space doesn’t just make random corridors for no reason.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I wanna see if any of those frames have any actual pictures. Maybe there’s like stolen earth museum masterpieces—something by Picasso or Van Gogh or somethin’. There’re so many things that’ve gone missing through the years.”

“Aliens stealing earth things?” the Doctor muttered with a frown, “not unheard of. It’s possible.”

There was a moment where neither of you moved, then the Doctor was moving towards the doors. “Right then,” he cleared his throat, he was looking at you as he marched towards the doors, “you need to stay close to me. I don’t know this place, or planet, or whatever it really is. We’re not staying long, just a quick peek around and then we’re leaving, alright?”

The Doctor paused in the doorway, leaning out, to glance around without stepping out of the TARDIS, despite the fact you’d already stepped out once. He frowned, still uncertain before he stepped out. He reached his hand in, an offering to you, which you moved to grab.

“Sounds good to me,” you smiled, gripping his hand and following him out. The TARDIS doors closed behind the two of you, since the Doctor had stepped out too and no one was inside.

“It looks very earthlike,” you mumbled as the two of you started walking. Slow and hesitant.

“Indeed it does,” the Doctor agreed, “I seriously don’t know what this is, or how it’s doing what it is. Be careful, and stay close.”

“I always am,” you laughed good-naturedly, which drew a small, fond smile from the man.

The two of you walked for a while. The TARDIS could no longer be seen behind you, but the hallway before you were still going. It was a very long hallway. You’d dropped the Doctor’s hand a while ago, in order to walk closer to the frames and gaze inside to see if you could see any differences between them all.

He was doing his own studying, watching everything like the frames would jump out at him, which you could understand given what he’d seen and done in his many years of life. He muttered things to himself, and periodically glanced your direction to keep a tab on you.

It was almost cute how protective the Doctor was of you. How protective he was of his select few companions he’d travel with. The ones he chose out the billions of people on earth.

The Doctor stopped every few frames to bleep them with his sonic screwdriver, but nothing came up. As far as you, the Doctor and the screwdriver knew, they were just ordinary frames. You could almost see the deep, unsettling confusion clouding the Doctor’s eyes.

But, you kept walking, almost as if something was pulling you along. Like you were tethered to something and you just had to find it.

----

The Doctor wasn’t sure what to make of this place. Not when neither his TARDIS or his sonic screwdriver could track or source anything regarding it. It simply shouldn’t exist. Some sort of spurious world that he’d never heard of, or seen.

Something that shouldn’t be here. It wasn’t the right make to even be orbiting like it was, and it certainly shouldn’t have been able to draw the TARDIS in. It was impossible. He couldn’t think of a single way that this could be happening.

The Doctor followed along a few steps behind (Y/N), who continued on without much thought. It was rather odd that (Y/N) was more excited and adventurous about this strange place than the Doctor was. Maybe because she was had a fresh mind, she still hadn’t completely figured out that things in space couldn’t be trusted.

There was a difference between being hesitant to jump right into things, and being critical of things before even thinking about taking a step out. Like earlier, when (Y/N) had stepped right out. The Doctor hadn’t even noticed her doing it, too busy trying to figure things out. As far as he’d known, they’d been stuck orbiting space—she could’ve stepped out into nothing. Nothing but space, because that’s what the TARDIS said they were doing.

The Doctor was far older than (Y/N), hundreds and hundreds of years older. He’d seen so much. He’d been trapped so many times. He’d been left with nothing more times than he could count. He’d put his companions in danger way more than he’d even dare to think about. He’d been around for practically forever at this point, and he knew when to be cautious.

As much as he tried though, he couldn’t figure anything out about this place. It was getting irritating at this point. He was confused, and irritated, and maybe even a bit pissed off that (Y/N) had been so reckless when they’d first arrived.

The man sighed to himself, drawing his hand through his hair again. He dropped his hands down, stuffing them in his trouser pockets as he followed behind his companion. He didn’t even know how long they’d been wondering about the hallway for, and he was about to make the decision that they’d spent enough time here when he heard it.

It was soft, like a whisper.

A collection of soft whispers, faint and unintelligible. Unintelligible, but inviting. Drawing him closer. It was not a language he knew, and the TARDIS hadn’t translated it for him. But he was curious.

Was there something here? Someone else beside him and his companion?

The Doctor’s eyes dropped down to the floor for a moment before he looked up and around. It felt like the whispering was coming from everywhere at once. He took a couple more hurried steps, the whispers growing louder until he turned suddenly. He didn’t remember thinking about turning, it just happened. He wasn’t even sure his brain had commanded the action, but when he looked up, he was met with a picture frame.

This one, unlike the ones across from it, or on either side, had an actual image. It wasn’t a blank frame like the others. And it wasn’t a picture at all. Not really.

It was moving.

It was... more like a television show, than a picture.

He was instantly engrossed in the moving photo.

It was... it was (Y/N). She was in a garden; it was a beautiful garden. There were multiple types of flowers, and it was sunny. It almost made him smile. Her eyes were watering, but she was smiling, holding a bouquet of flowers. She was older than the (Y/N) he was currently with, but it was undeniable that this woman in the photo was his current companion.

She looked good, perfectly fine, but maybe a little sad. He instantly wanted to make her happy again, to jump into the picture and hug her, or give her a kiss on the cheek. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of her sad smile.

It wasn’t terribly sad, she still had the same brightness about her, the one that had attracted him to her in the first place, but she looked as if she were reminiscing an event from prior. Maybe a memory from a passed family member, or something. Remembering happy things, but sad that they weren’t around anymore.

He wondered for a moment where he was in this picture. He’d never really thought about leaving her, not really. He wanted to hold onto her for as long as he could, but he could understand if he’d needed to leave her behind for whatever reason. He’d had to do the same for all his companions at one point or another.

The thought of his companions growing old and leaving him made him physically ill, but he knew it was bound to happen eventually. How he’d just regenerate and leave them in the dust—continue on with his life when they were aging and dying like the humans they were. He’d always end up alone in the end, as it had been for hundreds of years.

In the photo, (Y/N) was walking, the flowers cradled in her arms. The path she walked on was days away from being completely overgrown, like it wasn’t travelled much. Where ever she was going, she didn’t go often.

He waited, watching closely until she paused in the photo, her eyebrows furrowing as a tear trailed down her cheek. The Doctor leaned towards the picture, squinting to see what she was seeing. He wanted to reach out and touch it... touch his companion, but he didn’t.

In fact, he took a step back in surprise when his eyes landed on what she was now kneeled in front of, the flowers set on the ground before it.

It was the TARDIS. The blue Public Use Police box parked in that garden. It was covered in overgrown plants, vines reaching up along the paneling of the TARDIS. It didn’t... look much like the TARDIS anymore, old and unused like a real London Telephone box, but to him, it was unmistakably his precious TARDIS.

(Y/N) was sitting now, knees pulled up to her chest, with her arms wrapped securely around them. Her chin rested on the indent between her knees, and her attention was focused on the TARDIS. Her eyes were sad now, much more so than earlier, and she was crying again. Tears falling from her face and dripping down to the ground beneath her.

The Doctor didn’t understand for a moment. His TARDIS was there, obviously had been for a while. But he was nowhere to be seen. (Y/N) was visiting his TARDIS, hidden away in a garden and covered by overgrown plants that would’ve taken years to crawl up the length of his little blue box. He’d abandoned his TARDIS?

Then, it clicked.

He hadn’t abandoned his precious TARDIS intentionally. The answer was literally in this picture; from the overgrown garden, to the TARDIS standing withered and old without him, to the bouquet of flowers placed before his TARDIS, all the way down to the soft tears falling from his companion’s face.

It was all there.

He was dead.

He’d died somehow and left behind his TARDIS, and his companion.

He was dead.

He was strangely accepting of this. His companion outliving him for the first time since he’d first picked up a human to travel with him. It was... a nice change of pace. He wasn’t the last one left anymore. He was... gone.

The last Time-Lord in existence, and he was gone. His whole race put to rest with him. He wasn’t put off by the idea. He almost... liked it. That he wasn’t the one to be losing someone this time. He still felt terrible that his companion was bringing flowers to his, what he assumed was his, resting place with his TARDIS, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad, or upset.

It was almost... freeing. He wanted to touch; to run his fingers across the photo. To place a finger over his companion staring sadly at his TARDIS, or maybe even touch the TARDIS. His hand hovered over the picture, and it almost... rippled like he could just hop right in.

This was a... a desire he hadn’t known he’d had.

The man turned away from the frame abruptly, using all his willpower to draw his hand away and turn away from the picture. He’d almost touched it. Had been close enough to see it ripple. What would’ve happened had he touched the picture?

What would’ve happened had he reached for that desire he’d had hidden within him?

The man whipped out his sonic screwdriver, bleeping the frame he’d just been staring into quickly. For a second, one single second, the screwdriver detected something, but in the next moment, the Doctor was watching the colourful canvas, (Y/N), the garden and the TARDIS included, fade back to the identical blanks surrounding it.

In a matter of seconds, it was like the photo he’d seen hadn’t existed at all. Like he hadn’t been drawn to a desire he hadn’t realized he had.

With the picture gone, the Doctor carefully let his fingertips brush along the surface of what had been that picture. Nothing happened, there was no ripple this time. It was like touching any other sheet of canvas.

It didn’t make sense. It really didn’t make sense. Nothing about this place made any sense.

“We’ve been here long enough,” the Doctor spoke firmly, suddenly afraid of what this place was capable of. He turned to look down the hallway at his companion, “let’s head--” the man froze, “(Y/N)?”

She was gone. The hallway around him was empty. Nothing but blank picture frames. “(Y/N)?” he called louder, in case she’d continued on while he’d been distracted by the picture. The Doctor turned back the way the two of you had been coming, but you weren’t that way either. “(Y/N)!”

He was sprinting down the hallway before he even realized he was. He needed to get to her before anything else got to her. Before she got hurt, or was put in danger. Or worse, before one of the pictures spoke to her like they had to him.

He’d barely been able to draw himself away from the photo, a human wouldn’t stand a chance against it. No human would have the willpower to pull away from a desire like the one he’d been shown. And, as much as he cared for (Y/N), she really was no exception to that fact.

The man ran as fast as he could, passing hundreds of picture frames in just minutes before someone came into view.

Just as he’d feared, (Y/N) was staring into one of the photo frames, mesmerized by whatever was happening. The Doctor barely managed to stop himself from running into her, as he reached hurriedly for her arms and tried to pull her away from the picture.

To him, it was blank. It looked no different to any of the other canvases on the walls. He bleeped the canvas with his screwdriver when you barely budged, and to his surprise, he was getting all kinds of feedback from it this time. Something more than a simple photo frame was hung on this wall, and it was quickly drawing his companion in as it had to him.

He bleeped you as well, frowning thoughtfully at the reading it got off your head.

“(Y/N),” the Doctor pleaded, taking your hands into his own, “I know it looks ideal, whatever it is you’re seeing, but it’s not real. Please, come back to me, whatever you’re seeing, it’s not there. It doesn’t exist. Don’t touch it, alright? Don’t touch, it’s not safe.”

You made no movements, but you still didn’t draw your attention from the photo. The Doctor chewed his bottom lip, thoughts flying faster and more anxiously than he was sure they ever had. He had to do something. He wasn’t sure what would happen if you touched the picture you were seeing, but he wasn’t about to find out.

With no other way around it, the man pushed you back carefully, just enough so that he could come between you and the canvas. You didn’t react, eyes wide and unseeing, but so focused on the blank canvas in front of you. The Doctor reached up to cradle your jaw in his hands for a moment, thumbs brushing along your cheeks.

You moved to look around him, back at the picture, to which he gently tightened his hold and directed your gaze back onto him. You didn’t move again after being corrected.

He drew in a breath, pulling his hands back for a second to see if you’d move (you didn’t) before he lifted his hands and settled his fingertips to your temples. He squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating on accessing you mind. He couldn’t see what you could looking at the picture, but he could through your eyes.

----

You’d lost the Doctor somewhere along the hallway. He’d stopped and... even if you’d wanted to stop and see where he’d gone, or perhaps even wait for him, something inside you directed you along.

The whispered were calling to you. They’d started a while back, and you’d been following them. You didn’t understand them, but they were inviting. They were calling you over, trying to show you something.

You followed them, step after step, going exactly where the whispers directed you. Or, maybe you were following they’re volume, since you couldn’t really understand them.

Everything went quiet suddenly. You glanced around the hallway, before your eyes caught sight of a splash of colour. One of the frames had an actual picture in it.

You reached up to rub your eyes, in case you were seeing something, since it had been nothing but whites and browns all the way down the hallway, and now suddenly there was this one single picture with colours.

When you blinked again, the colours were still there. You stepped towards the picture—it was like nothing you’d ever seen before. But... at the same time it was familiar.

It really wasn’t anything special, a small house with a white picket fence surrounding the property. There houses on either side, ordinary and uniform, but each with personality. A cute little neighborhood.

The closer you looked, the more you could make out. The small windows on the house were full, detailed beyond imagination. But all of them... there was a little you in there.

One of the windows featured you with a pet—a cat or a dog, you couldn’t really make it. Possibly even a rodent, or a reptile, or something else along the lines. It was hard to see, but you could tell you adored whatever it was.

Another featured you with small children, possibly your own children, but you couldn’t be sure. They were cute, playing on the floor with you, showing you objects and giggling. You’d never really thought much about kids, but it was weird seeing some in the perfect little house the picture had.

One of the other windows was dimly lit, a living room or something in the late hours of the evening. You were cuddled up with someone, a significant other, on the couch, both watching a film, talking and laughing.

The last window housed you, and your friends and family all sitting together and laughing. The friends and family you had barely even spoken to since meeting the Doctor. The ones who left messages on your answering machine, and invited you out, despite not knowing you were adventuring in Outerspace with a literally alien.

They were all so domestic. So ordinary. It was... normal life. You assumed each window was a different representation of something. A pet, wanting children, a perfect significant other, and to be closer to those you love. It was cute, a cute concept.

You didn’t see the Doctor though. He was nowhere to be seen. He, and the TARDIS. Not so much as a glance at the Doctor.

The picture changed in the blink of an eye, and you were walking. In the picture. A different scene, the house was gone, and it was just you. You were just... walking down the street. And it looked nice. A relaxing walk. Nothing like exploring an alien planet with the Doctor, but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

You passed a blue police box, and barely batted an eyelash. You strolled passed a man sitting on a bench, which, when you looked closer, realized was the Doctor. He made no effort to speak to you, and you breezed right by him like you’d never even met him.

And... maybe you hadn’t in whatever this picture was showing you. It was hard to imagine never meeting the Doctor, and never seeing the things you’d seen in your travels. But this imagery the picture was supplying... it made it easier to think like that, not that it was really possible.

Everything the picture showed you was normal. Ordinary. It was relaxing. You could just... go for a stroll at any point, or get in the car and visit your friends, or your parents. You could step out of your door without being afraid.

There were no aliens, or potential death threats, or kidnappings, or strange creatures trying to get you, or to chase you around. You weren’t a part in trying to destroy the universe (unfortunate timing really), and you also weren’t a piece to the solution to said problems. You were just there, one of the regular people down on earth.

You weren’t afraid for your life, or for the Doctor’s life on some strange planet... it was just earth. Normal earth, with normal people and normal activities. Normal everything.

You’d never met the Doctor in these... whatever they were. Possible futures? Alternate universes?

You’d never met him and... your life was normal. You lived a regular life, like everyone else. You weren’t one of the special few the Doctor selected to travel with him and... that didn’t bother you.

It felt kind of nice actually, to be normal. To not be following the Doctor around on strange planets like a puppy, or to not be fearing for your life in a TARDIS crash landing. As much as you liked the Doctor, and your travels, you wouldn’t be disappointed or upset if... well, if none of it happened. If you’d never met the Doctor at all...

Your life looked like it would’ve been good, great even. Normal. Ordinary. Black and white. Vanilla.

You’d been in some dangerous situations, had actually thought yourself dead on a couple of occasions. You relied heavily on the Doctor to keep you safe. It was a lot. All of it was. And... it would be nice to have it be calm. The calm after a storm.

The whispering was back suddenly, louder than ever and urging you to reach up and touch the picture. It was promising things—a perfect life, a family, or a pet, anything your heart desired. It was promising to take away the pain of your traumas, and wipe your mind from all that caused you harm... the Doctor included.

And you... you couldn’t help but reach up to touch the picture.

It all sounded wonderful. Ideal, and perfect. A second chance without having to miss the Doctor because, well, you never would’ve met him in this timeline.

Your hand was hovering by the picture, rippling what you’d thought was a canvas. The whispers were growing louder, urging and begging you to touch. You wanted what it was offering. Something deep inside you wanted to touch the picture, and get the life it had showed you.

Your fingers got closer, and your mind started getting fuzzy and--

And everything stopped.

Your hand froze in place and the Doctor’s face came into view. He was blocking the picture; all you could see was his face. And... you could feel his fingers on your face, gentle and careful. The whispers were getting softer, further away.

“Please,” you heard. It was the Doctor, you thought. You knew his voice. He was pleading, voice tight and nervous, something you’d never heard before. “You can’t go, not yet. Please, it’s not real, (Y/N). You need to come back to me.”

You wanted to tell the Doctor that it looked pretty real to you. That you were so close to forgetting it all, and being normal. So close to a quiet life, without the hassle of a space and time machine, and a regenerating alien.

“I know,” the Doctor interrupted your thoughts as if he’d heard you. His voice was soft, maybe even hurt, “I know it seems perfect, but it’s not real, (Y/N). You need to snap out of it. You’re giving it what it wants, you’re feeding into it... You can’t. Don’t touch it, focus on me, alright? Focus here.”

You focused on the Doctor, on his soft pleads and appraisal. The whispers faded off to nothing and the colours behind the Doctor started fading away too, taking your quiet life away with them.

It was a sharp shock that really woke you up though. You blinked your eyes shut, an intense stinging from them being open for so long. You fell forwards, your body finally relaxing after being lured away. You never hit the ground though, you fell right into the Doctor, who caught you and held you close. “You’ve done it,” he whispered, “good job, (Y/N).”

“What... what happened?” you asked carefully. You remembered it clearly. The want to be taken away. The need for a normal and quiet life without the Doctor. The pull the canvas had to it. Even the ripping in the supposed canvas. “I almost fell in a canvas.”

The Doctor gave a laugh, not nearly as bright as it usually was. His eyes were sad, and he was holding you longer than he usually did when the two of you escaped danger. “You resisted,” the Doctor replied quietly, “I’m quite proud of you, that’s no easy feat.”

“The picture was luring me in,” you blinked, “what even was that?”

“It... it showed you your deepest desire. One you... may not have known you had—or maybe you did. Whatever it was, was feeding off the dopamine in your subconscious with seeing the desire fulfilled.”

Deepest desire. A quiet life was your deepest desire. Your life without the Doctor was your deepest desire. You felt terrible that that’s what you subconsciously wanted, even though you hadn’t known it.

“Did you see it too?” You asked calmly, looking back at the now blank frame. It was completely gone. No trace left behind of your deepest desire.

The Doctor hesitated for a second. A second longer than he usually did, “no,” he looked down, “I didn’t. It was just a white canvas for me. Only you can see your deepest desire, it’s just a blank canvas for everyone else.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, believing the Doctor’s words, but not really believing him. It sounded completely logical, but Time-Lords were incredible creatures, and you really had no idea whether or not he could actually see. You wished he couldn’t, that he hadn’t seen. You truly do love traveling with the Doctor... it just gets overwhelming at times. And... everyone wishes for a quiet life at some point, right?

“Let’s... let’s get back to the TARDIS. I think this has been enough excitement for the day, eh?”

The walk back was quiet, no whispering, or speaking. The frames on the walls did nothing. All uniform and identical just as when you’d come in. The TARDIS was further back than you remembered, but when you got to her, the Doctor ushered you in quickly.

You were taking off before you really knew what was happening.

“Do you think... all those frames had someone’s deepest desire in them?” you asked from where you were stood beside the console. The Doctor gave a shrug, pushing some buttons. He’d been quiet. Quieter than you could ever remember him being.

“It’s possible,” he answered shortly. “I’d assume yes though. Curious travelers like us are the perfect target for something like this.”

“Oh,” you frowned, “what would’ve... what would’ve happened if you touched the picture?”

The Doctor finally looked over at you, eyes sad, and lips curved down in a frown, “I think it would’ve absorbed you and given you what it promised. It would’ve fed off the dopamine being created like it had been doing, and it would’ve kept you happy in your desire.”

“I’m glad you got me out then,” you replied, looking down at your feet.

“Are you?” the Doctor asked without looking up from the console. You were sure he was purposely trying not to look at you. He was hurt. Now, without the lure of the picture, you could tell. He was sad, and hurting.

You frowned, thinking of something to say. You really didn’t believe he hadn’t seen your desire. Not with the whole kicked puppy look. He’d obviously seen something, and it hurt you that you made him feel like this.

“Did you hear the whispers?”

“I did.” He gave a nod, still not really looking up from the console. You were flying again, away from this orbital pull, “I saw my desire, but I was able to pull myself out of it.”

“What was your desire?” You asked quietly.

The doctor turned to you with a sad smile, “it wasn’t important,” he brushed off.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking down to hide his frown, and when he looked up once more, all traces of emotions were gone. All the sadness, all the fear. His frown replaced by a bright grin.

“Right then!” He chirped like the two of you hadn’t almost been lured into alien picture frames, “how about a visit to earth, huh? We can... let’s go meet your friends!”

<><><><><>

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and please feel free to leave me prompts! They’re very welcome, and very appreciated!

#Tenth Doctor #doctor who #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #reader insert #TARDIS #angst #sad #david tennant #doctor who 2005 #prompt #fanfic #fanfiction

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roxannepolice · 3 years

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Now that genuine joy at Whittaker getting some acting space, relief at ttc getting dropped in a freezer and excitement at the prospect of the Doctor's little meow meow dropping by have gone down I sat down to think a little and...

what.

Just, let me try to get this... not straight, I don't demand straight in DW, but into something resembling a causal sequence:

Meta ancient alien Doctor pops up through a wormhole to Gallifrey, maybe from parallel universe, maybe not don't event get me started on her needing exposition on multi-verse, Four spent a good deal of his life in a different universe and brought a friend back also there was this rather big deal about another companion getting stuck in one.

She's picked up by Tecteun and clearly Gallifreyans have some civilization of their own, not time travel, but still.

Ruth!Doctor does... stuff... to Ravagers and now Time is trapped in space wtv that means?

And she does that with the Division?

And Time being controlled seems to be a rather big deal for life in general seeing what the Ravarers do when time is on the loose?

But also Time is an impartial b*tch which is fine but talks to the Ravagers like it really wanted to be freed wtv that means? Did it lose a bet against the Force or sth?

So... either:

Somehow civilizations evolved before structure of reality as we know it was formed BTW meta-ancient alien Doctor is now responsible not just for Time Lords civilization but for the very shape of reality you're welcome?

The universe ->life -> civillizations evolved roughly like humans conjure, but the Ravagers popped up and "freed" Time so the Doctor had to reestablish status quo ante?

Ruth!Doctor travelled back to the beginnings of reality and established a causal loop?

Regardless, she did that with the Division which is depicted as plain evil no symmetrism here unlike with space amazon?

Just... what? What tf does Chibs think time even is? And my real worry is that there wasn't really much thinking involved...

I'm really not trying to nitpick here, timey-wimey's fine, I'm not b*tching at Claire knowing the Doctor before meeting a WA on October 31st despite returning to her normal timeline on December 5th. I am bitching at trying to change a time travel lore that may not be flawless, perfectly consistent, let alone uwu pure, but developed over half a century and at least pretended to throw basic physics jargon in for educational points - done by someone who seems to be so uninterested in the topic as to not have rewatched bloody doctor Emmet Brown explaining why Marty can't meet himself before he was conceived.

I'm just going to assume Chibs got high one day and started talking to his wristwatch about how horrible it must for time be to be stuck in such a small thing.

#tw: negativity #rant #chibnall critical #roxanne screams into the void #needed to get this off my chest #anti timeless child

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ladiesofmarvelbingo · 3 years

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Week 32 to the end of Round 2! (If we missed anything do let us know!)

Title: All It Takes Content Creator(s): GaeilgeRua Square(s) Filled: N4 - AU: Fairytale Rating: General Pairing(s): Darcy Lewis/T’Challa Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe, Cinderella Elements Summary: Darcy’s life is about to change. All thanks to one rainy night and a single red shoe. Link: AO3

Title: A Relaxing Night In Content Creator(s): articcat621 Square(s) Filled: M3 - Free Space Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Hermione Granger/Darcy Lewis Content Warning(s): Not Canon Compliant, Massages, Crossover Summary: Darcy can tell that Hermione is over-stressed from work. She knows just what to do to set her girlfriend's mind at ease. Link: AO3

Title: there's nothing like this type of view Content Creator(s): Ellerigby13 Square(s) Filled: A3 - “Watching you beg on your knees.” Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Ransom Drysdale/Darcy Lewis Content Warning(s): Crossover, Semi-Public Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Explicit Sexual Content Summary: “You don’t dance,” someone declared from behind her - Darcy jolted a little bit, hating being snuck up on. He was tall, with the smooth kind of haircut, the crisp kind of cologne, the pressed kind of khaki shorts that all these guys dabbled in. Unlike many of them, though, he was built like a brick shithouse, broad shoulders and chest straining his light blue button-down. The thing he seemed to wear the most comfortably, though, was the unabashed smirk playing across his undeniably handsome face. Link: AO3

Title: In The Restaurant Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: M3 - Free Space Rating: General Pairing(s): Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis & Brock Rumlow, Darcy Lewis & James “Bucky” Barnes Content Warning(s): Lab Accidents, Explosions, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel Summary: “Ladies and gentlemen, the Universe as we know it has now been in existence for over one hundred and seventy thousand million billion years and will be ending in a little over half an hour.” - Max Quordlepleen, The Restaurant At The End Of The Universe by Douglas Adams.

OR, there’s an explosion in the lab (again) and Darcy goes time travelling. This time, she’s not alone. Link: AO3

Title: Not So Quiet Content Creator(s): GaeilgeRua Square(s) Filled: O5 - Pillow Biting Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): James “Bucky” Barnes/Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe, BDSM, Dom!Clint Barton, Switch!Bucky Barnes, Sub!Natasha Romanov Summary: Her lovers have no issues reminding her to not keep her pleasure to herself. Or giving her what she needs. Link: AO3

Title: Unhappy Partners Content Creator(s): periwinklepromise Square(s) Filled: O2 - Daisy Johnson/Wanda Maximoff Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff/Skye | Daisy Johnson Content Warning(s): Not Canon Compliant Summary: Things had been going well in their relationship, until ... well, maybe Daisy would have been happier not knowing. Link: AO3

Title: The Maze Stumbler Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: O4 - Kidnapped Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): James “Bucky” Barnes & Sam Wilson, James “Bucky” Barnes & Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis & Sam Wilson, James “Bucky” Barnes & Sam Wilson & Darcy Lewis Content Warning(s): Everybody Lives, Crack, Pre-Relationship Summary: Don’t drink Thor’s Asgardian booze. Ever. Link: AO3

Title: The Shock Of Waking Up Content Creator(s): periwinklepromise Square(s) Filled: O1 - AU: Dystopian Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Pietro Maximoff & Wanda Maximoff Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Hurt Wanda Maximoff Summary: Steve froze, staring down at the young woman curled up in the crate. This day had gone from bad to worse, and he wanted just one moment to ponder on that.

And then she woke up and started screaming. Link: AO3

Title: Not A Lot Of Options Content Creator(s): periwinklepromise Square(s) Filled: W1 - Arranged Marriage Rating: General Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff/Tony Stark Content Warning(s): Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Hate at First Sight, Arranged Marriage, Wanda Maximoff Has Issues Summary: “There isn't anyone else.” “Of course there is!” Link: AO3

Title: body language Content Creator(s): Ellerigby13 Square(s) Filled: L3 - Hope Van Dyne/Natasha Romanoff Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Natasha Romanov/Hope Van Dyne Content Warning(s): Fade to Black, Pining, Flirting, Sparring Summary: For some reason, Hope’s eye kept catching on the droplets of sweat glistening against Natasha’s skin.

Well, Hope was perfectly aware of the reason she kept looking at Natasha, but she wasn’t going to admit to it anytime soon. Not out loud, at least. Link: AO3

Title: The Bath of Venus Content Creator(s): remreader Square(s) Filled: M3 - Free Space Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Content Warning(s): Fluff and Humor, Bubble Bath Summary: Pepper takes a bubble bath and Tony develops an appreciation for fine art. Link: AO3

Title: Bringing Work Home Content Creator(s): Gavilan Square(s) Filled: N5 - "You own my heart." Rating: Explicit Pairing(s): Peggy Carter/Daniel Sousa Content Warning(s): Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Flirting, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Smut, Post-Canon Summary: Bringing work home is better than staying in the office all evening, but it does have some... distractions. Link: AO3

Title: Stripped Content Creator(s): The_Alias (Artemis_Day) Square(s) Filled: M3 - Free Space Rating: Mature Pairing(s): James “Bucky” Barnes/Jane Foster Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Stripper!Bucky, Fluff and Humor Summary: Bucky thought it would be a normal job. Then he ends up at his crush’s front door ready to strip for her. This really isn’t his night. Link: AO3

Title: A Gentleman Content Creator(s): The_Alias (Artemis_Day) Square(s) Filled: N5 - AU: Historical Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Western, Bar Fights Summary: Darcy's mother always told her to stay away from cowpoke and find a gentleman. She should've thought of that before getting a job at the saloon. Link: AO3

Title: Fan Preferred Content Creator(s): The_Alias (Artemis_Day) Square(s) Filled: W1 - Mistaken for a Couple Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Jane Foster/Loki Content Warning(s): Denial of Feelings, Mutual Pining, 5+1 Things, Fluff and Humor Summary: The first time someone suggested Loki and Jane were a couple, it was a fan. This was also the first time Jane realized she had fans.

Or: Five times someone thought Loki and Jane were a couple, and one time they were right. Link: AO3

Title: Like Emptiness and Harmony Content Creator(s): remreader Square(s) Filled: M5 - Insomnia Rating: General Pairing(s): Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Content Warning(s): Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony’s Space Trauma, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort Summary: Tony may be back on Earth, but he's still trying to find his way home. Luckily, he doesn't have to do it alone. Link: AO3

Title: Ghost and Shadow Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: M2 - Ava Starr Rating: General Pairing(s): Ava Starr & Okoye Content Warning(s): Crossover, Pre-Pitch Black Summary: Ava and Okoye are looking for someone - they find him but are they too late? Link: AO3

Title: the best babysitters Content Creator(s): eachpeachpearplum Square(s) Filled: N3 - Found Family Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): N/A Summary: Howard and Maria are, as ever, too busy to look after their son. Luckily, Tony has the best godparents in the world. A day at the park is just what they all need. Link: Tumblr

Title: N/A Content Creator(s): nivellesart Square(s) Filled: O2 - Hope Van Dyne Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): N/A Summary: N/A Link: Tumblr

Title: It’s A Start Content Creator(s): nicnac Square(s) Filled: W1 - Magical Accidents Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff/Reader Content Warning(s): None Summary: After an accident causes the reader to take Wanda’s powers, the pair work together to train and build enough control to return her magic. However, it’s a steep learning curve and not everything goes quite to plan. Link: Tumblr

Title: Tell Me What To Do Content Creator(s): nicnac Square(s) Filled: W2 - Carol Danvers Rating: Teen+ Pairing(s): Carol Danvers/Reader Content Warning(s): Angst, Post-Endgame/Blip, Break Up, Sad Feelings, No Happy Ending Summary: The reader scavenges alien tech and fallen space debris. When they follow up on a recent job, they see Carol for the first time in over five years and painful feelings re-emerge. Link: Tumblr

Title: burnt to a crisp Content Creator(s): queen-of-the-avengers Square(s) Filled: ?? - “Why are you orange?” Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Jane Foster/Reader Content Warning(s): Sunburn, Fluff Summary: N/A Link: Tumblr

Title: Yes, Mistress: The Meeting Content Creator(s): nicnac Square(s) Filled: E5 - Trust Rating: Mature Pairing(s): Natasha Romanov/Female Reader Content Warning(s): D/S Relationship, Sexual Themes, Domme!Natasha Romanov, F!Sub Reader Summary: The reader goes to a quiet café to meet Mistress Natasha in person for the first time and they talk through what she can expect from this new relationship. Link: Tumblr

Title: succumb to your urges Content Creator(s): queen-of-the-avengers Square(s) Filled: M3 (?) - Free Space Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Natasha Romanov/Reader Content Warning(s): Fluff, Implied Smut Summary: Every thought you have is of Natasha, and it’s starting to interfere with your missions and your job. How can you get her out of your head? More importantly, does she know? Link: AO3

Title: Sharon Carter, Agent Thirteen Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: E4 - Comic Panel of Sharon Carter Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): Moodboard, Crossover, Sherman's Gallifreyan, Gallifreyan Writing, Doctor Who Summary: N/A Link: Tumblr

Title: small world Content Creator(s): queen-of-the-avengers Square(s) Filled: ?? - AU: No Powers Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff/Female Reader Content Warning(s): Fluff Summary: While waiting for your flight to arrive, you watch one of your favorite shows to pass the time. Little do you know, you have someone watching you who just so happens to love the same show. Link: Tumblr

Title: i’m not the same Content Creator(s): that-wimpy-cowboy-doll Square(s) Filled: L4 - AU: Post-apocalyptic Rating: N/A Pairing(s): James “Bucky” Barnes/Ava Starr Content Warning(s): N/A Summary: Fallout 4 AU. A former Raider and before that, Vault Dweller, Ava Starr begins working with the Railroad to help synths escape from the Institute. Bucky, a synth with missing bits of memory and a chip on his shoulder trying to dig up the history of his namesake in Brooklyn, makes an impression. Link: Tumblr

Title: Pepperony’s 12 Days of Christmas Content Creator(s): rebelmeg Square(s) Filled: W1 - Twelve Days of Christmas Rating: General Pairing(s): Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Content Warning(s): Moodboard, Some Angsty Movie Screenshots, Happy Endings Only Summary: A themed moodboard story of Pepperony’s 12 Days of Christmas. Link: Tumblr

Title: Wanda Maximoff Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: O2 - Comic Panel of Wanda Maximoff Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): Gallifreyan Writing, Sherman’s Gallifreyan Art, Graphics Summary: I used Gimp to make the Gallifreyan writing, Inkscape for the background, and the collage was done using PicsArt. Link: Tumblr

Title: Stitch ‘n’ Sip Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: O3 - AU: coffee shop Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, Knitting Summary: Where Darcy owns a combined coffee and yarn shop, The Stitch 'n’ Sip. Link: Tumblr

Title: Stay Content Creator(s): rebelmeg Square(s) Filled: N5 - Bucky/Nat Comic Panel Rating: General Pairing(s): James “Bucky” Barnes/Natasha Romanov Content Warning(s): Moodboard, Implied Hydra/Red Room History Summary: BuckyNat moodboard of their past, present, and hinted plans for a future. Link: Tumblr

Title: Ghost and Shadow (moodboard 1) Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: E3 - Crossover Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): Crossover, Chronicles of Riddick - Pitch Black, Moodboard Summary: Ava and Okoye are now onboard the Hunter-Gratzner but they have no idea what’s in store for them. When the ship crashes, they find themselves stranded on a desert planet with a motley crew of survivors.

Their first priority is to activate their emergency beacon and send a distress call. Will help arrive before disaster falls? Link: Tumblr

Title: Survuval (Ghost and Shadow moodboard 2) Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: M1- AU: Bodyguard Rating: General Pairing(s): N/A Content Warning(s): Crossover, Chronicles of Riddick - Pitch Black, Moodboard Summary: The onset of the eclipse threatens the fragile coherence of the group. As they race for a way off the planet, all Ava and Okoye can do is keep as many people alive as possible and hope their rescue wagon arrives sooner rather than later. Link: Tumblr

Title: Higher, Further, Faster, Forever Content Creator(s): Gavilan Square(s) Filled: M5 - Happily Ever After Rating: General Pairing(s): Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau Content Warning(s): Picture of Food (Cupcakes) Summary: Carol and Maria affirm their love in a star-filled wedding. Link: Tumblr

Title: Midnight Visitor Content Creator(s): rebelmeg Square(s) Filled: M5 - “You see that child staring at me too?” Rating: General Pairing(s): Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Content Warning(s): Iron Family, Drabble Summary: Tony and Pepper have a wee nighttime visitor. Link: AO3

Title: Devastated Content Creator(s): rebelmeg Square(s) Filled: E4 - Comic Panel of Carol and Rhodey kissing Rating: General Pairing(s): Carol Danvers & Tony Stark, Carol Danvers/James “Rhodey” Rhodes Content Warning(s): Amnesia, Past Relationships, Angst, Drabble Summary: Carol brings back the Xorrian elixir for Tony, and finds out another part of her past she’d forgotten. A friendship and a relationship she’d forgotten. Link: AO3

Title: The High Castle Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: O1 - Dragons Rating: General Pairing(s): Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow Content Warning(s): Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates Summary: a moodboard as per the description above Link: Tumblr

Title: Nebula Content Creator(s): ibelieveinturtles Square(s) Filled: N1 - Picture of Nebula from GOTG Rating: General Pairing(s): N/a Content Warning(s): Moodboard Summary: a collage of Nebula Link: Tumblr

Title: Red Sunflower Content Creator(s): jayankles Square(s) Filled: ?? - Baking Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Wanda Macimoff/Reader Content Warning(s): Food Summary: Wanda tries to bake for a busy Y/N but when she realises she has messed up a few times, Wanda takes her to their favourite coffee shop. Link: Tumblr

Title: Start Caring Content Creator(s): jayankles Square(s) Filled: ?? - “You saved a piece of cake for me?” Rating: Not Rated Pairing(s): Carol Danvers/Reader Content Warning(s): None Summary: Something feels off but Carol is there to make sure you feel better Link: Tumblr

#round ups

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riversofmars · 4 years

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HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE! Hope you had a good start to the new year, hopefully 2021 will be a good one. I just want to keep doing the things that make me happy, so starting the year of with a new chapter seems just about right!

Also, massive thank you to @manyotherroadsyettorun @capybaraonabicycle and @ms-flyology for creating awesome content for this fic? I’m in awe!

Rating: M

Word-count: 3600

Chapter 3: Rules of Engagement

The Emperor threw her knife and missed the Doctor’s head by less than an inch. She laughed at how the Doctor flinched away and braced herself against the floor. She winced in pain, the wound on her shoulder was throbbing.

“Right, where were we.“ The Emperor turned back to River with a smirk and pulled her close.

The Doctor sat back on her knees, struggling for composure, breathing through the pain. She watched for a moment, relieved to not be the centre of attention anymore. She couldn’t help the wave of jealously she was feeling. She knew this wasn’t her River but the physical attraction didn’t just go away.

River moaned when the Emperor pushed her hand between her legs and the Doctor looked away, she couldn’t bare it. That’s when her eyes fell on the knife she had pulled from her shoulder and she realise she had a chance here. Every fibre of her being revolted against the use of weapons but in this universe, the dice were weighted, the rules were different, and she couldn’t be sure she would get an opportunity like this again. They underestimated her, they thought they could play games with her, this was her chance. Carefully she inched forward and closed her shaking hand around the hilt of the knife. The Emperor had turned her back on her. Stabbing someone in the back was the definition of cowardice but this was a desperate situation, and if she was the same as her in every way, she would just regenerate wouldn’t she? And keep them preoccupied long enough for her to escape?

The Doctor was swift about it and pushed herself up but she hesitated. Second thoughts stalling her movements. She knew nothing of her history, what if they weren’t quite the same and she did kill her? Her hesitation lasted only for a moment but long enough. Long enough for River to pull her wife around and out of the way. She grab the Doctor’s wrist with one hand before she’d even raised the knife, and went straight for her throat with the other.

“And what do you think you’re doing with that, darling?“ River purred twisting the Doctor’s wrist and bending her arm. The Doctor winced and dropped the knife.

“Looks like I underestimated you after all.“ The Emperor smirked intrigued.

“You didn’t.“ River shook her head without looking around, she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the Doctor, searching her eyes.

“No?“ The Emperor raised her eyebrows.

“She hesitated.“ River said simply. “She wouldn’t have followed through anyway. Hasn’t got it in her. Such a shame.“

The Doctor didn’t know what to respond to that. Usually she would have taken great pride in that but now it put her at a great disadvantage indeed. She was, however, struggling to think straight. River was half naked, pressed right up against her curling her slender fingers around her throat, just hard enough to make her breathless.

“You know, it’s the death penalty for raising a finger against the crown.“ River hummed.

“You’re not going to kill me though, are you, you need me.“ The Doctor managed to say, far more calmly than she was feeling on the inside. Her head was spinning.

“Oh there are plenty of other things I could do to you.“ River smirked with a dangerous flicker in her eyes. She let go of the Doctor’s wrist and move her hand to the button on her trousers. The Doctor tried to pull away but River held her tightly, squeezing her neck a little harder.

“Enough of this.“ The Emperor huffed. “Let her go.“

“But darling, we could…“

“Enough I said.“ The Emperor snapped and the Doctor immediately noticed the jealousy in her voice. “Guards!“ She called and River let go of the Doctor with a pout. The door opened and Yaz came in. She pressed her balled fist to her chest in a salute of sorts. She didn’t bat an eyelid at their state of undress.

“Emperor?“

“Take the prisoner to a holding cell, no-one is to know her identity and no-one is allowed in without my say so, understood?“ The Emperor ordered.

“Right away.“ Yaz nodded and stepped up to the Doctor.

“Not with the handcuffs again.“ The Doctor groaned and winced in pain when she pulled her arms back. The wound on her shoulder had soaked through her coat on both sides now and started bleeding more heavily again at the forceful movement of her arm.

“Maybe we should get a Doctor to look at that.“ The Emperor mocked which made River laugh. “Have someone look at that, discreetly.“ She added and dismissed them with a wave of her hand. Before the Doctor could protest, Yaz pulled her along.

——

“You don’t talk much, do you.“ The Doctor leaned against the bars of the prison cell she had been brought to. The cell was completely isolated from any others that might have been around, it was a small angular room, half of which lay behind bars. The other half was completely empty bar a small control panel that would open and close the bars. And even in the cell, only the basics were provided. The Doctor was watching Yaz who stood a few meters away, close to the door, she appeared to be waiting for something, and she wasn’t talking.

“You know I’m perfectly fine by myself, not like I’m getting out of here.“ The Doctor carried on, she disliked silence so much. “This really hurts you know.“ She touched her hand to the wound in her shoulder. Yaz didn’t turn around, didn’t even react at all. “Sorry, I talk a lot when I’m stressed and this qualifies as stressful.“ The Doctor groaned exasperated.

“You really are nothing like her.“ Yaz huffed, annoyed by the constant chatter.

“She talks after all.“ The Doctor exclaimed, pleased at the small accomplishment. Maybe she would be able to get some information about this place, anything could help, and she had noticed a few things already. “There are a lot of humans here, considering this is Gallifrey.“ She observed leaning against the bars.

Yaz didn’t respond, almost as if she hadn’t heard her.

“How do you know her?“ The Doctor pressed on, she was genuinely curious. So far, she hadn’t observed anything you could describe as affection between the Emperor and, well, anyone with the exception for River. And yet they were all here. Her Fam. Amy and Rory. How did the ruler of the Gallifreyan Empire come by human advisors and guards? Even if she didn’t act affectionately towards them, she still seemed to trust them more than her average lot of guards. There had to be some history there. “She seems to trust you and Ryan and Graham… And Amy and Rory, they’re humans… where are all the Timelords?“ It was a fair question.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Yaz, clearly expecting someone, opened it promptly. The Doctor stuck her nose through the bars and spotted a young woman entering carrying a medical bag. She looked rather timid.

“You requested a medic?“ The girl asked stepping into the room. Her eyes fell on the Doctor who gave her a little wave, and she froze.

“You’re not to speak to anyone about this, understand?“ Yaz asked and the girl nodded quickly slowly stepping forward. She had gone from timid to fearful at the sight of the Doctor. Yaz either didn’t notice or didn’t care, she walked up to the control panel and worked the controls to open the cell.

“No funny business.“ She told the Doctor who nodded slowly, not for Yaz’s sake but for the young woman’s. She looked terrified.

“I think it’s not me you need to worry about.“ The Doctor mumbled. She looked to the medic, she barely seemed old enough to be qualified in anything. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if she had been a Timelord but she wasn’t. The Doctor could tell straight away. And she could tell that she was scared of her. Was it because she was prisoner or was it because of who she looked like?

The Doctor glanced to Yaz who gestured for the woman to get a move on. The Doctor couldn’t help but think that she wasn’t the one the girl should be scared of around here. To make things easier, she stepped backwards and she shrugged off her coat, wincing a little as she did so, and sat on the metal bench. Surely, this was the least threatening she could possible be.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.“ The Doctor gave the girl a weak smile hoping to reassure her somehow. “Didn’t do this on purpose.“ She gestured to her shoulder.

“You’re going to need to take your shirt off too…“ The girl said, her voice a little shaky, she appeared uncomfortable asking.

“Ah yeah… you lot don’t seem to care too much for clothes…“ The Doctor huffed, she glanced to Yaz who was watching her every move. She tried her best to ignore her as she pulled her shirt up and over her head, swearing under her breath as she did so. She hugged her t-shirt to her chest covering herself up with her uninjured arm. The medic didn’t ask how it happened, she just opened her bag and pulled out some gauze to clean the wound. “You okay? You seem a bit tense.“ The Doctor asked, yet again disliking the silence.

The medic didn’t answer, she seemed to be trying to ignore her.

“You don’t have to be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.“ The Doctor carried on giving her a little smile. She didn’t like the effect she seemed to be having on her.

“I’m not.“ She replied. “Scared, I mean.“

“Yeah, nothing screams confidence like shaking hands.“ The Doctor chuckled though not unkindly.

“A couple of stitches should do it.“ The medic said when the cut was clean on both sides.

“Not a big fan of needles.“ The Doctor admitted, watching her prepare a curved suture needle. “Just slab a plaster on it?“ She suggested but the girl shook her head.

“Too big a cut, I’m afraid… I’m sorry, this is gonna hurt…“

“That’s okay.“ The Doctor gave her a reassuring smile, it was the best she could do to improve the situation for everyone. Painkillers didn’t seem to be something wasted on prisoners and she wasn’t going to show any sort of weakness in front of Yaz who continued to watch them. The Doctor winced when she pierce the skin but held her nerve. “You know I’m not her right? You don’t have to be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.“ She told the young medic, hoping to distract herself from the pain.

“I don’t know what you mean.“ The girl replied not very convincingly.

“You’re scared of her, like everyone else, just taking a guess here… I have absolutely nothing to do with her.“ The Doctor explained and leaned forward so that she could access the back of the wound more easily.

“How do you…“ The medic was tempted to ask but Yaz interrupted.

“Think that’s enough chatter.“ She snapped and the girl nodded quickly, setting about suturing her back.

“We may look the same but I’m nothing like her. Mirror image, so to speak.“ The Doctor carried on, keeping her eyes on Yaz who glared at her.

“How is that possible.“ The medic asked softly. She could tell it was true. This person was nothing like the one she shared a face with but how could that be?

“Well, funny story that…“ The Doctor started but Yaz interrupted more decisively this time.

“Fix her up and do it now.“

“You’re all scared of her, aren’t you? What is she doing to this place? This universe?“ The Doctor looked around to the medic who refused to answer now, clearly terrified of Yaz. Finished with with sutures, she returned her equipment to her bag and went to dress the wounds. Her hands were shaking and she nearly dropped the dressing.

“Let me…“ The Doctor placed her hand on hers to steady it, giving it a reassuring squeeze and her a soft smile.

“Who are you?“ The girl asked softly, unable to stop herself. She saw the warmth and kindness in the Doctor’s eyes, unlike anything she’d seen before.

“I think I’ll get you in trouble if I say, so better not.“ The Doctor glanced to Yaz who had a face like thunder. “But I promise I’m gonna try to find a way to help.“ Even though every inch of her body wanted to flee and leave this place behind, the moment she saw the fear in the eyes of this girl, she knew she couldn’t just turn her back. She would never refuse to help and those that were not in league with the Emperor seemed to need it.

“That should do it, just try to keep your arm still while it’s healing.“ The medic instructed trying her best to regain her professionalism.

“Looks like I’m not going anywhere any time soon so that shouldn’t be too difficult.“ The Doctor gave her a warm smile. “Thank you for fixing me up.“

“You’re welcome.“ The girl gave a small smile and a nod. She picked up her bag and turned to leave the cell, glancing back at the Doctor one last time, wondering what to make of her. Yaz reengaged the locking mechanism and the metal bars slid shut again.

“You really shouldn’t have done that.“ She said to the Doctor.

“Done what?“ The Doctor frowned confused. Before she could ask or do anything else, Yaz pulled her gun on the medic and shot her as she was leaving.

“NO!“ The Doctor shouted in horror and jumped to her feet. She rushed to the bars that had already locked and even if they hadn’t, it was far too late. It had been a deadly blast, the girl had collapsed onto the ground, motionless. “Why would you do that? She didn’t do anything!“ The Doctor yelled at Yaz who seemed unfazed.

“Should have kept your mouth shut then, shouldn’t you. That’s on you for sharing things you shouldn’t have.“ Yaz retorted icily.

“You let her see my face, you were never letting her walk out of here anyway.“ The Doctor realised in horror. “Don’t try and put it on me.“

“No, probably not, but you made the decision far easier.“ Yaz retorted.

——

The Doctor stared at the spot where the medic had been shot long after they had taken her away. Yaz had left with them, her cell was secure, no need for personal guard now that she had been fixed up. It should have given the Doctor the opportunity to breath at last but she couldn’t. She felt claustrophobic. Not because of the cell necessarily, small as it may be, but because of the situation she found herself in. She couldn’t think of a way out. She had scanned the cell, the lock was foolproof. The very fact that they hadn’t bothered to empty her pockets should have given away how sophisticated a prison this was. Nothing she could do would get her out of here. So after a while, all that she could think to do was use the small sink in the corner to wash the blood out of her coat and t-shirt. Now, she lay on the metal bench that was cold against her bare back, staring out of her cell to the empty space outside it. She wasn’t sure how long it had been now. She hated the loneliness, the silence, she had had far too much of that in prison. The only thing she was certain on was that eventually, they’d come back for her. They wanted something from her after all. She was torn between wanting to interact with someone and dreading what sort of thing the Emperor would dream up to make her talk. She shuddered a little at the memory of the mad twinkle in her eyes as she had leaned above her and stabbed her. She marvelled at how eyes that were the same warm hazel as her own could appear so cold.

“Think, Doctor, think, how do you get back?“ She mumbled to herself and looked up to the ceiling. No matter how hard she tried, she could’t focus. Her mind kept returning to her mirror self. The fear she had seen in the young medic’s eyes was haunting her. Even if she could find a way to return to her own reality, could she really leave this universe to its fate?

——

“Fuck…“ River breathed. Her head was spinning and her muscles ached. The Emperor dropped onto the mattress beside her and pulled her into her arms. River rested her head on her wife’s chest breathing heavily, trying to recover. The Emperor brushed her hair back from her sweaty brow and pressed a kiss on top of her head.

“I missed you.“ She mumbled enjoying the moment, their four combined hearts beating in perfect time.

“Well, that much is obvious.“ River smirked lazily drawing patterns on her chest with her fingertips. She pressed a kiss to her jaw. “Are you sure it hasn’t got anything to do with a certain visitor making puppy eyes at me?“ She teased and pushed herself up a little stretching her aching muscles. She rubbed her neck and shoulders were her wife had left dark marks. “You certainly staked your claim.“

“You’d eat her alive.“ The Emperor brushed the comment off pretending like she didn’t care.

“Might be fun.“ River smirked and her wife huffed:

“If you like that sort of thing.“

“You don’t have to be so jealous.“ River chuckled, amused that she couldn’t keep her annoyance out of her wife.

“I’m not.“ The Emperor shot back.

“Yes you are.“ River teased pushing herself up against her, brushing her hair back. “I mean, I could probably do unspeakable things to her and she’d thank me for it.“ She whispered huskily.

“You’re mine and mine alone.“ The Emperor snapped and shoved her off. She pushed her down and straddled her and pinned her hands to the bed.

“Are we going for round two?“ River grinned breathlessly, her wife’s possessive nature had always excited her. She buckled her hips against her. “I’m all yours.“

The Emperor let go of her, still annoyed, and climbed off the bed.

“I can’t wait to get rid of her. She’s an embarrassment, to share a face with her…“ She walked over to a table of refreshments and poured herself a glass of water. She had worked up quite a sweat. River rolled onto her stomach watching her, regarding her naked body with adoration. She never could get enough of her. Out of the many faces she had had, this was by far River’s favourite.

“Then we better get whatever we can from her so we can move on?“ She suggested.

“I need that information. We have to find a way to cross over.“ The Emperor mused turning back to her wife. There were only very few people in her inner circle of advisors, an even fewer number of them she trusted and only one she would ever share her worries with. “The generals are restless. Conquest is progress and there is nothing left to conquer.“

“Yes, it seems like the voices of discourse are getting louder.“ River agreed sitting up now.

“Did something happen?“ The Emperor asked with a frown.

“Another attempt on my parents’ lives…“ River answered in an off hand sort of way.

“They’re getting bolder.“ The Emperor huffed in annoyance and took a sip of water. “Who was it?“

“They dealt with it, it was probably because you were away… they wouldn’t dare while you’re around.“ River answered and reached for a silky dressing gown that lay draped over the bottom of the bed.

“Next time something like this happens, I will make a spectacle of them.“ The Emperor decided watching her wife saunter over as she fastened the gown around herself. “They can’t be trusted, none of them.“

“We could just kill them all…“ River hummed and reached out to stroke her wife’s cheek.

“The rift would be too obvious, people would see it as a sign of weakness, they’re on the verge of revolting as it is.“ The Emperor shook her head and finished her drink. She put the crystal glass down and pulled River into her arms. “No, we need a big victory, we need to expand. Silence the doubters and give the population what they want.“

“I would be delighted to get the information you want out of her.“ River brushed a strand of her wife’s hair back.

“River.“ The Emperor rolled her eyes at her.

“Please, let me have some fun.“ River pouted.

“I don’t like the way you’re looking at her.“ The Emperor admitted with surprising honestly.

“Darling, I can’t help that, she is you.“ River sighed.

“She is nothing like me.“ The Emperor snapped and River pressed a tender kiss to her lips to reassure her.

“You know it’s you I love.“ So what if her eyes wandered a little looking at the Doctor? Physically they were the same and she couldn’t help it. She also couldn’t help the intrigue of it. But it didn’t change how she felt about her wife, not remotely.

“You keep away from her.“ The Emperor said, somewhere between an order and a request.

“Of course, my love.“ River gave her another soft kiss, as much as she enjoyed teasing her, she would never do anything to retry or hurt her. “That doesn’t leave many people we can trust to do this though.“ She mused. “Amy…“

“Your mother is too impulsive, she’d kill her by accident.“ The Emperor shook her head. “No, I have a better idea… Though you probably won’t like it.“

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #Mirror Universe #river x thirteen #river x the doctor #River/Thirteen #river song #thirteenth doctor #thirteen #dark!13 #mirror!13 #Jasmine kahn #dark #violence #action/adventure #whump #space wives #yowzah #femslash

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writingithink · 4 years

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The Full Pub Experience Pairing: Ten x Rose Rated: T Wordcount: 3,834 Summary: The Doctor suffers through another honeymoon interruption for Earth wedding related things. Notes: FINALLY, this is my fic for Day 7 of @timepetalsweek ! And it's a free day. So you would think that it wouldn't be so late, but everything in my WIP folder rn promises to be long.

This fic would definitely make more sense if you've read the ones that came before it. That being said, I still think that if you know they accidentally got bonded that's also probably enough to jump in.

Super special thanks to @hey-there-juliet for betaing!! <3

All mistakes are mine.

I own nothing.

READ IT ON AO3 -> copy/paste link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25590310

With a sigh, the Doctor kicked his feet up onto the armrest and sunk into the sofa. Finishing up their honeymoon was starting to seem like a nigh impossible task. Who would have thought that trying to do seven romantic trips in a row would prove so difficult?

Sure, they’d had to sort out the Isolus when he took them to the Olympics, but after that things had gone on without a hitch. And yes, they had taken a day to do wedding planning things with Jackie midway, but then they’d gotten right back to it. Now, though, it was starting to get irritating.

His attempt to take Rose to a winter village on Sirius Colony VI had failed - they landed three years late and ended up having to stop a coup. Then he tried to take her to see the Rings of Akhaten but something went wrong with the TARDIS and they were flung out of the vortex, landing on an asteroid being used as an illegal zoo of endangered species. He’d almost been turned into an exhibit!

Once they finally made it back to the TARDIS, before he could come up with a new honeymoon destination Rose got a text from her mate Shareen. Now here they were, back at Jackie’s flat, for more wedding planning type things (he wasn’t sure on the details, just that this time he wasn’t ‘needed’).

(Not that he’d even been needed last time).

“Oh, cheer up,” his wife urged, leaning over the back of the sofa and running a hand through his hair. “How bored would you have gotten if we didn’t have a few adventures?”

The Doctor did not dignify that with a response, but did lean into her touch.

“Y’know, we could still try to get to that cabin again. We don’t know for sure if we actually missed the reservation,” she suggested.

“I suppose,” he huffed, trying to resist moving away from his foul mood. Maybe he wanted to sulk.

“Oh, come off it. Why don’t you find something to watch on the telly? Or play in the kitchen? Mum’s out, so I’m sure you could work on the perfect piece of toast.”

It was annoying, how she seemed to know just what to say. (It actually wasn’t, he was a terrible liar).

“C’mere,” the Doctor muttered before pulling her down further and giving her a kiss.

A kiss that quickly turned into a snog, him hauling her the rest of the way over the couch to sprawl on top of him. Just as he moved his hand under her shirt and up her back, there was a loud rapping on the door.

“Ugh,” he sighed, dropping back down onto the sofa as Rose quickly stood up, trying to fix her hair and clothing. For a Time Lord, he really did have an atrocious sense of timing sometimes.

We can pick up where we left off later, y’know, she telepathically reminded him.

He wondered if he could just nip into the TARDIS and move forward just a little, early evening, when ‘later’ was likely to be ‘soon’. This got him a quick zap through the bond before Rose opened the door.

“Rose!!”

Then there were hugs and squealing and he didn’t think he’d ever heard his bondmate’s voice get quite so high pitched. But the worst part was that her barriers had shot up, so all he could get from their connection was her general state. The Doctor did find himself pleased, however, when the squealing became about Rose’s ring - he had made it himself, after all. The gemstones and metal weren’t of Earth origin, but looked similar enough to the untrained eye. The center stone was quite diamond-like, surrounded by two gems that could be mistaken for morganite. He’d used an old, broken TARDIS part to create the band, which Jackie had criticized as looking too copper-like, but they had both ignored her. The Gallifreyan metal had unique properties, meaning he was able to biotune it to Rose’s finger. It would always fit perfectly, and only she could take it off.

Most importantly, Rose loved it.

“And hullo, Doctor.”

He looked up to see Shareen peering at him from the other end of the couch, and she really didn’t have to say his name as if it was a joke.

“Hello.” He hoped his smile was cheery, that’s what he was going for.

“’S it fine if I call you, what was it- oh, John?” she asked.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Well, I don’t get why you go around havin’ everyone call you ‘Doctor’. I get that John Smith is a boring name, but really.”

A glance at Rose revealed her trying, and mostly failing, to not laugh. Not even her barriers could keep him from feeling how amused she was.

“Anyway, how are you?” he drawled, trying to remember what his wife had last told him about her best mate (on Earth, that is).

“‘M fine. Aren’t you headin’ out?”

His brows furrowed and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to figure out what kind of segue that was supposed to be.

“Heading out?” the Doctor ended up repeating.

“Yeah. To like, I dunno, hang out with mates down the pub or somethin’?”

“Hang out wi- ? Down th- ? Why would I do that?” he sputtered.

“Well we’re gonna plan out Rose’s hen night! No blokes allowed! ‘Specially not the groom.”

“Oh, that’s not fair, he can stay,” his wife came to his defense before he could say anything else idiotic.

“Nope.” Shareen crossed her arms. “I hardly ever get to see ya anymore, and this is a girls thing. You two could do with some time spent apart.”

And as much as he didn’t want to, the Doctor worried that maybe Rose’s friend was right. They did spend pretty much all of their time together, even before they accidentally bonded. Sure, sometimes they would split up for a little while if they were on a safe planet, but that hadn’t really happened since they started their honeymoon.

So he found himself standing up and saying, “Fine, fine, I can get out of your hair.”

“Are you sure?” his bondmate frowned, walking up to him and needlessly adjusting his tie.

“Yeah, yeah … I’ll, erm, be back this evening.”

“But what are you gonna do?” You don’t actually have mates to go down the pub with, she laughed in his head.

“I- I can definitely ‘go down to the pub with my mates’,” he informed her, not really helping his own point by doing air quotes. “I’ll- I’ll ring Sarah Jane! I’m sure she’d love a trip to the pub.”

Actually, he wasn’t sure at all that she’d love that. But that wasn’t really the point.

“Sarah Jane ? He’s off to spend time with another woman?” Shareen asked Rose, though honestly she did it so loudly and right in front of him, she might as well have just asked him.

“The Doctor’s allowed,” Rose huffed, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “He ain’t Tommy.”

Shareen winced. “Tommy’s changed, though. Whole new man, really.”

“What?! Don’t tell me you’re still hangin’ round with him!”

This seemed like the perfect time to leave, so the Doctor silently (and quickly!) exited the flat, telling his wife goodbye over the bond before putting his own barriers up. He had, after all, overheard many of Rose’s phone calls with Shareen and was aware of who this ‘Tommy’ was. Now that he realized her best mate had pretty much been accusing him of cheating on his bondmate, his thoughts were less than flattering.

Eventually he found himself standing outside the flats, a bit at a loss. He put his hands on his hips and looked around, surveying the area. Was he really going to ring Sarah Jane and go to the pub?

It was just- it was so … humany.

There had to be something more interesting for him to do.

The sun was shining, a few children were playing with sidewalk chalk, people were walking about. Everything was calm. Not a lick of danger in sight.

With a sigh, the Doctor walked over to the nearest phone booth, lifted the receiver and sonicked it. After a moment it started ringing. And ringing. And ringing.

He was just about to hang up when she answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Sarah Jane!”

“Doctor?!”

“Yes! How are you?”

“What’s going on?” she asked, not answering his - very polite, not rude at all, very much knowing how phone calls are supposed to go, ta - question.

“Oh, erm, I don’t kno-”

“How in danger are we?”

Oh, oh.

“No danger! None at all. Why does there have to be danger?”

He could actually go for a spot of danger, but it would probably get taken the wrong way if he told her that now.

“So this is a social call?” Her obvious skepticism was offensive.

“It is! What’s wrong with a social call?”

“I mean, nothing. I just didn’t think that was something that you did.”

“Well, it is.” Now, at least. Apparently. “I was wondering if you’d fancy going to the pub?” The words felt very wrong on his tongue.

“Where are Rose and Mickey?” she asked him, once again ignoring a question.

The Doctor scowled before sighing. “Mickey moved universes. Rose is busy. I’ve been kicked out of her mum’s flat, which I didn’t want to be at in the first place, really. So it’s all worked out for the best, don’t you think? It was suggested that I go down to the pub, and isn’t it interesting that which pub isn’t specified? So really, if you want to go, any pub you like. Though I do know which pub they meant, because they always talk about the same one. It’s the one down the street. Rose dragged me there once for New Years. It’s … fine, I guess. I mean, they’re all pretty interchangeable, if you ask me. A bunch of humans drinking, watching the match, maybe playing a spot of darts. Or billiards! We could play billiards! If you’d like, I could turn off my alcohol-inhibiting enzymes. I’m not sure I’ve ever gotten drunk on Earth alcohol before. If I have, I don’t remember. Or we don’t have to drink at all. We could, I don’t know, have lunch? I know they have chips, or most pubs have chips? Well, the pub Rose goes to has chips, which is probably why Rose goes there. So what do you say?”

“I- blimey. Yes, I can go to the pub. I’m sure the one you’re near is fine, just give me the address.”

So he did, and shortly after she rang off. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for Sarah Jane to get there, but since he obviously had nothing better to do, the Doctor headed over to the pub. Since it was midday, there weren’t too many people around - definitely not as packed as it was for New Years. So he ordered a pint, realized that he hated beer, spat it back into the glass and then ordered a banana daiquiri. The bartender didn’t seem very impressed with him, so once he had his cocktail the Doctor slunk away to a booth to wait for Sarah Jane.

By the time he noticed her walking into the pub, he was on his second drink and debating the merits of trying out jalapeño poppers.

“Sarah Jane! Hi! Over here!” he called, waving his arms in a wide arc to make sure that she noticed him - she did. “Have you ever had jalapeño poppers?”

With a disbelieving laugh she walked over, taking off her jacket and sitting down her bag before sliding across from him. “Can’t say I’ve ever tried them. Suppose we could give it a go.” She got comfortable in her seat, looked around them, then focused on him. It felt almost as if he was being analyzed. Then the tension broke, she shook her head and let out a small laugh. “This is so strange.”

“Strange? Why’s it strange?” he asked, even though he agreed with her. The thing is, he knew why he felt it was strange, but she was human. This was something humans did - hang out with mates at the pub.

“Well, I mean, you’re you. I didn’t think this was something you did.”

Ah, same reason, then.

Before he could respond to that, a waitress appeared to take Sarah Jane’s order. They got the jalapeño poppers, but also each an order of chips in case those turned out to be rubbish. She also ordered a pint (but why? They were not good) so the Doctor preemptively ordered another cocktail so that he could avoid having to be subtly mocked by the bartender again.

“How many of those have you had?” Sarah Jane asked once the waitress was out of sight.

“This one is my second.”

“And did you turn off your, what did you say on the phone again? This you talks so quickly sometimes and the connection was so poor, I was having a hard time keeping up.”

“Ah, yeah, was calling on an old payphone. But yes, alcohol-inhibiting enzymes. I have them. Turned them off. It’s starting to get a little tingly. Reminds me of Rose laughing.”

“What?”

“You knooooow. Or you probably don’t, actually. I wonder if the daiquiris are affecting me more than I’d thought. It’s like … oh, I don’t know. English is a rubbish language for describing telepathy. Cancel your beer and get two banana daiquiris and that will be like if someone is laughing in your head. The nice kind of laughing. Not the you-just-did-something-stupid kind of laughing.”

“I think I’ll pass, but good to know,” she laughed. “Wait. What happened that had you and Rose connected telepathically? I thought you usually avoided that kind of thing. And as far as questions go, you said Mickey moved universes? I think we have a lot of catching up to do since I last saw you. Not to mention everything before then. It sounds like you’ve been busy.”

She wasn’t wrong. So first he told her about the parallel world, and the Cybermen, and Mickey deciding to stay there. Then he told her about Rose, and a very edited story of how they accidentally ended up bonded. Married. Same thing, really.

“Wow.”

“I know,” he agreed, finishing off his third drink and wondering if he should order a fourth.

Sarah Jane opened her mouth to say something, but then their food arrived. She ended up finding the jalapeño poppers surprisingly good, while he felt that they didn’t go as well with banana as chips did (he ordered the fourth drink - might as well get the full Earth drinking experience, right?).

“Am I going to end up having to carry you back to the TARDIS?” Sarah Jane asked him.

“Nooooo. If anything, you’d have to carry me back to Jackie’s flat. That’s where Rose is. Unless you rang her and told her to meet you at the TARDIS. Or you could ring her and have her carry me back to the TARDIS. I’d rather not have her mum see me drunk. I’ve never actually been drunk in this body before. Don’t know what it’ll be like. I pretended to be drunk once. To fool some robots. Rose didn’t think it was funny.”

She chuckled, shaking her head a bit. “I just can’t believe you’re married.”

“Why’s that? I’ve been married before this. I don’t know how many of them actually count, but I’m over 900 years old, I’ve been around.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Sarah Jane rolled her eyes. “When were you married before?”

“Well, I was definitely married on Gallifrey. Arranged union of houses. Very proper. Loomed some children and everything. I, er, wasn’t a very good husband. But I’ve also never been a very good Time Lord. It’s complicated,” he sighed, leaned back, picked up a chip and fidgeted with it.

“Considering you were exiled when we met, I think I believe you. What about these other times?”

“Oh, I’m not sure they really count. One of them happened in an anti-matter universe, pretty sure it was fictional. I did actually marry a human once. For world saving reasons. It ended up going decently well, actually, but it didn’t really last. And now that Rose and I are bonded, I feel like … I don’t know, I think I was wrong about how deep our connection really was,” he admitted.

“What’s an anti-matter universe?!”

Before he could answer, his cocktail arrived. Thank Rassilon, because he could definitely use another drink if this is what they were going to be talking about.

“Sooooo what’s new with you?” he asked after taking a long sip.

“Oh, I don’t think so. We’re not done talking about you and the fact that you’ve just gotten married.”

“Not according to Jackie,” the Doctor rolled his eyes. “She’s having us do an Earth wedding. Ancient Gallifreyan bonding isn’t good enough for her. To be fair, I haven’t actually researched it properly yet. Maybe once I can explain it better, Rose’s mum will- ahhhh what am I saying. The day I’m able to reason with Jackie Tyler will probably herald an apocalypse.”

She laughed, which was good. Things were much more tense with Sarah Jane now than they were back when they traveled together. And, of course, that was his fault. But it was nice, spending time with her again. Even if it was in a boring old pub.

“And what does Rose think of all of this?”

“Ohh, she’s got mixed feelings. Sometimes she’s excited about planning the wedding, sometimes she wants to cancel. Apparently I’m not much help, but really I-”

“Not about that, about you two being married,” she corrected.

“Oh! We’re both very, very happy about that.”

“Good. I’m not going to lie, it does seem a bit fast. Then again, I don’t know how long it’s actually been for you.”

“Mmm … maybe about, I don’t know, how long has it been for you since you last saw us?”

“It’s only been about 2 months.”

“Nearly a year, then,” he quickly calculated.

“Really?”

“Rose wanted to catch up her real age to the age she’s supposed to be on Earth. Don’t tell Jackie.” His eyes widened at the potential slap that would get him.

“I’m sure if I ever meet her it won’t come up,” Sarah Jane laughed.

“What do you mean ‘if you ever meet her’? Aren’t you coming to the wedding?”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t want to assume-”

“Of course you’re invited! Not only are you one of my oldest friends, you’re one of my best friends!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“Don’t know how I feel about oldest friend.”

“Please, I’m much older than you are,” he rolled his eyes and leaned back, propping his feet on the table, idly playing with his newest little umbrella. He had quite the collection accumulating.

“Yes, but you seem to be regenerating younger.”

The Doctor winced a bit and tugged his ear.

“What?” she asked, after finishing her drink.

“I may have picked this regeneration on purpose, a bit.”

“Oh? I didn’t know it worked like that.” Sarah Jane raised her eyebrows.

“Takes a lot of effort. Usually I don’t care which body I get, but …”

“Had a reason for looking young?” she teased.

“881 year age gap,” he frowned.

“Obviously can’t be much of an issue, considering what you told me about the bond you two have now.”

“Eh.”

He downed the rest of his drink.

“Be right back!” the Doctor announced, standing up. “I’m going to see about getting a pitcher of these. Provided they put a lot of umbrellas in. I’m using them to keep count.”

“Keep count of what?”

“I want to see how many it takes to get me drunk. Even without the enzymes, I still have a superior biology. And Earth alcohol is famously tame.”

“Are you, really?”

“I’m getting the full pub experience! What do you say to billiards when I get back?”

“Doctor, how long are you planning on staying here?”

“I told her I’d be back in the evening. And I mean, we don’t have to stay here. We could go someplace else, if you’d like. But, as I said, as far as I know and for certain in this body, I’ve never been drunk in a pub. Plus, it’s not like I’m planning on having a stag night, and you and I are both here right now, and you’re my only friend on Earth aside from Rose, so maybe this would count, right? I mean, from what I’ve seen on films, getting drunk in a pub is pretty much what a stag night is … well, there’s also ones with strippers, but that’s all a bit too human for me. Not that there’s anything wrong with it! I’m just sayi-”

“Doctor!” Sarah Jane interrupted him with a laugh. “I swear, the gob on you this go around! Of course this can be your stag night. There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.”

“Yeah, but who needs predictable, eh?”

“Yeah,” she smiled.

The Doctor put on his best grin as he went to see a man about a pitcher.

Hours - and many daiquiris - later, he felt a surge of amusement across the bond before Rose’s barriers dropped. He turned around, and there she was.

“Rose!” he bounded over, quick to wrap her in a hug, lifting his wife off her feet in the process.

“Hi there,” she smiled up at him when he put her down before giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Not that I’m not glad you’re here! I’m very, very glad you’re here.”

She laughed, and the feel of it combined with the alcohol was indescribable. “Shareen and I were drinkin’ wine and laughing at bad telly when I got a call from Sarah Jane.”

“Oh? What was it about?”

“She said I should get down here quick or I’d miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Really?! What’s that?” Also, why wouldn’t Sarah Jane tell him about it? She’d just agreed to be his groom-party-best-person, whatever it was, and it was his stag night!

“Doctor, you were about to perform, remember?” When had Sarah Jane come up behind him like that?

“Oh, right!” he bounced on his toes a little. “Karaoke! I’m about to go up!”

“You were right, this is gonna be amazing!” Shareen laughed, pulling out her phone.

“I’ve already queued up the song, I didn’t know you’d be coming, but we can sign up for a duet!” the Doctor said, getting even more excited.

“I’ll think about it,” Rose giggled. “Think you’re a few drinks ahead of me for karaoke.”

��It’s funny that you say ‘a few’,” Sarah Jane laughed.

And he was about to ask her why, but then his name got called. He’d have to ask her later.

#timepetalsweek #ficandchips #dw fanfic #ten x rose #timepetals #dw fic #tenrose #dw fanfiction #fandom: doctor who #pairing: rose x doctor #fic: the full pub experience #my fic

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sheliesshattered · 4 years

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Whouffaldi fic sketch, ~770 words. First draft, minimal editing, etc. Clara POV, set between Deep Breath and Into The Dalek. I may expand this into a full AU at some later date, but for today it was just a writing exercise to get me back into canon!Clara’s point of view, and hopefully help with my other in-progress Whouffaldi fics.

Even though it’s just a sketch, I would love to hear your thoughts on this! ❤️

Galaxies Beneath Your Skin

It takes her hours to get home from Glasgow, after the Doctor goes to get them coffee and doesn’t return. Hours of weary train travel, alone and heartsick, thankful that she always travels with a bank card stashed inside her mobile case, for just such an emergency. And then what feels like hours to make excuses to her Dad and Gran — and Linda, though by that point, Clara is so far beyond caring what Linda thought, she is nearly able to ignore her presence in the room — about how and why she’d up and disappeared on them in the middle of Christmas dinner.

So by the time she is once again alone in her flat, Clara is tired down to her bones in a way she can’t remember ever being before. Not even after spending a week on a Russian submarine, or saving Artie and Angie from Cybermen, or jumping into the Doctor’s timestream was she this exhausted, this numb to everything she’d been through since waking up on Christmas morning. She strips off her festive outfit, letting each piece of clothing drop to the floor in a line that stretches out behind her as she makes her way towards her bathroom and the siren call of her familiar shower, and doesn’t let herself think about any of the day’s strange, heartbreaking, life-altering events.

It isn’t until she’s working shampoo into her hair that she sees it. She takes it for a smudge, at first. Dirt, perhaps. She had been through a literal war zone in that outfit after all, not to mention the dual insults of clinging to the outside of the TARDIS in the Vortex and the train ride from Glasgow, and her brief stint in Victorian London in between.

It’s a dark line over her left breast, curving down towards her ribs. She swipes at it with a soapy hand, but it doesn’t budge. Exhausted and annoyed and — if she’s honest with herself — on the brink of tears, Clara rinses the shampoo from her hair, rubs at her watery eyes, and turns her attention to the stubborn stain on her skin. When even a flannel and more soap leave it unchanged, she peers at it closer, only then realising that it isn’t dirt or soot or a bit of exploded Dalek, after all.

Rather, it’s a line of perfectly formed little circles, etched into her skin with what looks like fine blank ink, each circle containing smaller circles and dots and lines, overlapping each other to form one flowing, complex geometric design. It starts near her sternum, curving up over the top of her breast and down the other side, ending on her ribs, the whole thing creating a gentle half-circle shape, as though it is only a part of a larger pattern.

She couldn’t say how she knows, but she knows. The moment her eyes focus on it fully, she knows exactly what it says. It’s written in a language all but gone from the universe, though there is enough Circular Gallifreyan scattered around the TARDIS for Clara to be utterly certain that that is what it is, pressed into her flesh.

Maybe it’s latent knowledge from her echo life lived on Gallifrey, or the recovered memory of that day she and the Doctor journeyed into the centre of the TARDIS and she stumbled across the book in his library about the Time War, or something seared into her mind when she jumped into his timestream. Or maybe it’s none of those things, maybe it’s something else entirely, maybe the knowledge was planted in her mind just as magically as the words had been planted under her skin.

However she came by the knowledge, Clara knows without needing to be told that it is the Doctor’s true name, written in his native tongue, that now sits curled over her heart.

And at that knowledge, she promptly bursts into tears.

It’s three weeks before she sees his face again. His new face, old before its time, unfamiliar except for the intelligence shining out of his eyes. But she would know him anywhere. He could have regenerated again since their abrupt and unplanned parting in Glasgow, and she still would have recognised him, known him by his eyes and by the way her heart somersaults under the place where his name has been mysteriously scorched onto her body.

Do you know? she wants to ask him. Do you know that when you disappeared, you left a piece of yourself under my skin?

Instead what comes out is, “Where the hell have you been?”

#Galaxies Beneath Your Skin #Whouffaldi #Doctor Who fanfic #Doctor Who #Clara and the Doctor #Clara Oswald #Twelfth Doctor #my writing #fic sketch #writing exercise

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shawtygonemad · 4 years

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What Is This Feeling: Chapter 11

Fem!9th Doctor x Male!Rose Tyler

WITF Masterlist

"Doctor." A far off voice spoke her name. A very familiar voice that instantly sent shivers through her body.

"Doctor!" This time the voice was closer. She felt her body be shaken.

The Doctor groan and rolled over onto her stomach. Her head was pounding. What had happened? Everything was a blurry and painful. Where was she?

"Did you just come back to get changed and take a nap? I didn't actually think you slept to be honest," Ross prattled on as he set a beach bag they had packed earlier on the ground. "What's that headband you've got on? You trying to accessorize now?" He chuckled.

The Doctor, with her eyes still closed rubbed her head trying to ease the pain. She was on Ross's bed back in their resort's suite. When did she get there? Wasn't she out investigating something? Something wasn't right. What was wrong? There were…. missing persons! Of course! She was out trying to find them. Zamora!

The Doctor's eyes flew open, and she quickly turned in the bed to face the concerned Ross. As soon as her eyes locked onto him there was a warm bolt that went through her body. She felt like a magnet that needed to be connected with him. Her sight hazed over, and all she could think of was Ross. He was still in his swim shorts. His top half bare. She just wanted to run her hands over his perfectly chiseled body, and attach her lips to his…

"Doctor, are you alright," Ross asked, confused by the look she was giving.

"I'm fantastic now that you're here," She gave a lop-sided grin and crawled over the bed to be closer to him. She looked up at him as he stood over her with worried eyes.

"You just seem to be acting different…"

The Time Lord stood up on her knees and reached out her hands to run them through his hair lovingly. "I'm just acting how I've always wanted to act. I'm just not shy anymore."

Her human's eye widened at this. She had rendered him speechless for once. She seemed to be unbalanced, so Ross placed his hands on her waist to steady her. The Doctor ran her hand from his hair, down his cheek, and traced his bottom lip with her thumb. He was completely perfect to her. She just wanted him, so badly. All of him. Her eyes flicked from his brown eyes down to his lips. Slowly she began to lean up towards him. Their lips centimeters apart.

"Doctor," Ross whispered. "What are we doing?" He whispered quietly. He was confused as to why she was starting to act this way now, so suddenly. What had brought it on?

"Everything." She replied as she finally connected their lips.

Her body felt as if it was on fire as she feverishly kissed Ross. Luckily, he had acted just as passionately. The Doctor's hand snaked around her companion's neck as she allowed herself to fall back onto the bed pulling him with her. Her hands roamed over the naked half of his body. She wanted to memorize every inch of him. Every dent, dip, scar, and freckle. The Time Lord wrapped her legs around his waist and used her superior strength to flip them, so she was straddling his waist on top. She smirked at his shocked expression. She lightly pulled his bottom lip between her teeth before nibbling down his jaw, toward his neck. She was going to leave him so many love bites as a blissful reminder of this night.

"You know," she began against his neck which must have hummed in the right way, because it caused Ross to groan. That sent another shock through the Doctor's body encouraging her to continue. "Compared to you, I'm feeling a little overdressed."

The Gallifreyan leaned back and quickly shed her jacket along with her top. Her beautiful pink and yellow stared up at her in amazement. This made her smile.

"Like what you see?" She asked in a low voice.

Her companion replied by flipping them back over on the bed, so he was in the more dominant position. The Doctor shimmied out of her pants as Ross began to caress her shoulders, up her neck towards her head. She was completely exposed below him, only in her undergarments. Ross leaned down for a soft kiss as his hands made it to her temples. He grabbed the golden headband quickly and forcefully removed it from her head. He then tossed it to the side of the room.

The Time Lord gasped against Ross's lips as soon as the article was released from her head. It felt as if a bucket of cold water was thrown at her. Her head instantly cleared, as her stared petrified at Ross. What has she done? She quickly pushed him off her as she sat up. Her face was hot from embarrassment.

"That headband you had on, I think it had some charm over you," Ross deduced as he got up from the bed as well. "Doctor…" he began softly.

The Doctor quickly got dressed as Ross did. "We have no time to discuss what just happened. There is a Junite ship out there with hundreds of kidnaped species on board. I've got to save them."

Ross had changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was putting his shoes as he spoke. "Right, who's the baddie this time, and how are we going to stop them?"

"You're not coming with," she informed him as she headed for the door.

"The hell I'm not!"

"You'll only slow me down. You have a bum ankle, remember," she reminded him as she left the room. Ross was hot on her tail like always.

"I'm coming with you. I don't care how hurt my ankle is," he said stubbornly.

"Fine. But I don't want to hear you complaining!" She led them towards the TARDIS.

"Where are they?"

"They are all caged up on a Junite's ship hidden below a water fall. We're going to take the TARDIS and pop in on them. I have a feeling that they won't be very cooperative," she explained as she unlocked the door to her ship and stepped in with her human.

She ran over to the console and set the coordinates for the Junite ship. Her mind kept flashing back to what her and Ross had just done. Dread crept into her at the thought of the conversation the were bound to have soon. Her head shook as she rid those thoughts and tried to concentrate. Ross stood back and watched her normal dance around the TARDIS as she landed them onto the enemy's ship.

Once the TARDIS landed the Doctor ran down the ramp and peaked her head outside of the doors. They had landed in the gallery that held all the cells. The Doctor grinned. It was one of the rare times that her piloting had gotten them to the right place at the right time. Her and Ross both stepped out. She nodded her head seeing that there was no panel for her to override the system. She'd have to find the main system and do it manually.

"Right then. Ross, I need to go and find the main controls to override the system and release these cells. As soon as that happens, I need you to corral all the life forms into the TARDIS. We'll have to take them all back ourselves," she informed her companion.

"What about the Junites? What'll happen to them? Can't they be reasoned with," Ross questioned.

"Usually yes. However, I met Zamora and she seems to be one of the very few Junites who are unreasonable. I'll give them one last chance to leave this planet and return home. That's all they get," She told him.

That being said, the Time Lord turned and swiftly exited the doors that had led her into the gallery the first time she was here. She needed to find the main control room. She quickly went up and down the halls scanned for the room that was giving off the most power. Once she located it, she entered the room ready for a fight. To her surprise there was no one in there.

'Well, that's highly unlikely.'

She shook her head, and went to work. Her fingers quickly graced across the controls overriding the ship's system, removing all security, and releasing the cell doors. Once completing her task, the Doctor glanced over the security cameras looking for the one that overlooked the gallery. She grinned as she watched Ross speak and lead each species into the TARDIS. I looked at the other cameras and watched as guards were running down the halls towards they gallery.

"I don't think so," she muttered to herself as her fingers flew across the controls making sure the doors to the gallery were sealed shut. She smiled at herself as she watched them struggle to open the door.

She looked over the panel and hit a button the looked like it was for an intercom. She hoped he was almost finished, because she didn't know for sure if this was going to be projected to the entire ship.

"Ross, can you hear me? How's it going in there," She asked over the intercom. She smiled as she wanted him jump at the sound of her on the monitor.

"Erm, good! Everyone is almost boarded!" He responded.

"Fantastic! Once all boarded, I'll be right down, then we'll be off!" She said as she began to move towards the door.

"That won't be happening Doctor," Zamora's voice came from the monitor.

The Doctor quickly turned around and stared at the screen. It seemed that just as Ross the last of the prisoners onto the TARDIS he was captured by Junite guards. Although, he was smart enough to close the door of the TARDIS before he was captured. Smart boy. The Time Lord's anger flared.

"Release him," she demanded.

"Not until you release my specimen, first."

"No. That is not happening. I won't allow you to enslave all of those species!" She yelled.

"They aren't slaves. They'll live a very luxurious life in their own habitats," Zamora tried to reason.

"That's just not right," The Doctor shook her head in disgust.

"Oh, but I think it is," the Junite began. "Without another festivity as successful as our flora season, our economy will crash! It was the only way our planet was able to be sustainable!"

"There are other ways than enslaving hundreds of species! I can help you! You don't have to do this!"

"We do, Doctor. This is the only way."

The only Stubborn Junite she has ever met. How could she not see the other possibilities? She realized now that they were too far gone. They were never going to see anything else besides their disgusting plan. She couldn't let these corrupt Junites continue roaming the galaxies kidnapping species. She had to end this. Her fingers ran over the controls one last time, silencing the alarm as she set the destruct countdown button off. She had 10 minutes.

"I'll trade myself for him. I'm a much rarer species anyway, being the last of the Time Lords and all."

Zamora's eyes widened. "But, that's impossible… they were all destroyed."

The Doctor's eyes were cold as she spoke, "Who do you think destroyed them all?"

"The last of the Time Lords. That's one hell of a title. People will come from everywhere just to see you…"

"Doctor, don't do it! I'm not worth it," Ross pleaded.

'You have no idea how worth it you are, Ross,'

The Doctor quickly exited the control room and ran down the corridors towards the gallery. Distract them as she got herself and Ross onto the TARDIS? Yeah, sounds easy enough. She rolled her eyes at herself. She found the doors leading into the gallery. She soniced them open and stepped inside. Her eyes instantly landed on Ross. He was still being restrained by the guards, but was otherwise unharmed.

"We will release your human if you surrender yourself to us," Zamora spoke.

"Release him first, then I will go with you willingly," she promised.

Zamora nodded, and the guards released Ross. He instantly ran over to the Doctor and engulfed her into a hug. "You can't go with them," he told her.

"Just go into the TARDIS, quickly. I've got a plan," She whispered to him.

"Really," He looked at her with doubt.

"Do I ever? Just go," she nudged him towards the TARDIS.

He reluctantly obeyed her and went into the TARDIS, but watched from inside the doors. The Doctor turned towards Zamora as two guards approached her. She knew she was going to have to fight her way out of this. She didn't want to get violent, but if she had to.

One guard grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her as the other approached from her front. She threw her head back, and head butted the guard behind her. Which left him dazed. The Time Lord threw her weight back towards the guard behind her which gave her enough momentum to lift both legs up and kick the guard approaching from the front as hard as she could. As her body and legs heavily returned to the ground, she used her strength to throw the guard that was holding her from behind over her shoulder. He landed on the guard she kicked who was starting to get up.

She began to run towards the TARDIS only to be blocked by Zamora herself. The Junite began the grapple with the Gallifreyan. "You will not ruin this for me!" She yelled frustrated.

As they spared, the Doctor finally had an opening that she took. Zamora flew to the ground in a heap. The Doctor took her chance and ran into the TARDIS's open doors.

"You destroyed us, Doctor!" Zamora yelled from her place on the ground.

"You can come with us! I can help you rebuild your planet! We can regrow your flowers! Please, let me help."

"I hope you remember this, Doctor! You destroyed us! You have destroyed us like you destroyed your own people," Zamora roared.

They didn't have much time before the ship destructed. Knowing that Zamora had made her choice, the Doctor shut the TARDIS door. She run up the ramp, swerving in and out all the different species that now filled the console room. The Time Lord didn't her normal dance around the console and send them into the Time Vortex as the Junite Ship imploded.

Once out of danger the Doctor turned towards her many guesses and clapped her hands together with a grin. "Alright. Where to first?"

...

Ross smiled and shut the TARDIS doors after waving goodbye to the human couple, the little boy, and his family. They were safely returned to the resort to Bora Bora. Once the Doctor saw they Ross was safely inside, she sent them into the Time Vortex. She took her time, knowing what was to come next.

Ross would probably demand that he be taken home. This daft old alien had practically jumped his bones. He, of course, went along with it so he could break the spell over her. Ross was a smart one. He knew to just play along. How could she possibly think that he would ever feel the way that she does. He was a human, and she was an ancient alien. The thought probably disgusted him.

"Doctor…" Ross began slowly.

All the blood left her face, and a cold jolt went through her body. This was it. He was going to leave her. Her hearts broke at the thought. She didn't want to be alone again. She couldn't. Madness would finally take hold of her. She couldn't live without traveling with Ross. Her fantastic, brilliant, smart, beautiful, pink and yellow human.

"It was just a spell, Ross. Just let it go," She said through gritted teeth.

"I don't think it was though. I asked her about it while you were running to sacrifice yourself to them. I asked Zamora what that headband was, and why it did what it did…" Ross began.

"It meant nothing, Ross! That headband was just some common love charm…"

"No, it wasn't! I asked her why she would charm you into doing that. She told me that even though it was a powerful charm there still needed to be some affection, or attraction there already for it to even work.

The Doctor refused to look at him, "She was just trying to get to you Ross."

"Why are you lying!" He yelled. The suddenly raise of his voice slightly startled her, making her raise her eyes towards him. He looked completely exasperated.

No… she couldn't lose him. Even if he didn't feel the same way. She couldn't lose him over this. Just then a thought came into her head. Maybe she just didn't have to.

"Oh Ross…" she slowly made her way over towards him. She looked up into his brown eyes as she gently placed a hand on the side of his head.

"Doctor, s'alright. I just want you to know…" he began for the Doctor to tearfully cut him off.

"I'm so sorry," she said quietly, as she placed her other hand onto his other side, and shifted her fingers into the mind connecting positions.

"What are you…" Ross began.

The Doctor forcefully thrust her mind into his. Ross was taken aback.

'What are you doing?' he asked, confused, and slightly fearful.

The Doctor instantly accessed his memories and went to work.

'I can't lose you, Ross. I know you don't feel the same, which is fine. I just can't lose you. So, I'm going to hide that memory from you. I'm not taking it away, just locking it up so you won't have to endure the memory of it.'

"No! Please! Doctor! Please, don't," Ross verbally begged.

'I'm sorry.'

With that, she locked up the memory of them in the resort bedroom and placed it into the deep part of his mind where he'll never have to deal with it again. Just to be sure she also, instantly made him fall unconscious. She carefully placed him on the jumper seat, and went about the console room. She decided to nervously make some repairs on the TARDIS while they drifted in the Time Vortex, and waited for her human to wake up.

It took about 20 minutes for him to finally come to. He groaned slightly as he began to sit up.

"Doctor," he called out.

The Time Lord held her breath for a second, before placing a fake grin on her face as she popped her head out from the other side of the console.

"Hello there, sleeping beauty! Did you enjoy your nap?"

"What happened," he asked groggy.

"You don't remember?" she asked, faking concern. She knew what happened.

"Sorta. S' all kinda fuzzy."

"Well what do you remember," She asked, slightly nervous.

"You left me on the beach," he paused as he thought back. "I returned to the room later on after getting a little sun sick. I found you napping on the bed, so I woke you up…" The Doctor held her breath again at this part. "You jumped up and started to prattle on about Junite's and missing people that we had to save. We went about the ship. You released the kidnapped species, and I corralled them onto the TARDIS. You came back and sacrificed yourself to Zamora, before becoming this badass fighter and took them all out! We then returned all of the species, and then it gets fuzzy again."

The Doctor grinned. "Well after we dropped off the humans at Bora Bora you went over to the jump seat, plopped down, and fell asleep."

"Oh. Well I suppose I am a bit tired. Should probably be off to bed then if we're going to be running around saving galaxies again tomorrow," he grinned at her. "G'night, Doctor," he called as he began to shuffle out of the console room.

"G'night, Ross Tyler!" She called after him with a grin still plastered on her face. Once he knew he was completely gone her face dropped. She laid her head against the console and released a sigh.

She was going to have to watch herself from now on. Things had to go back to normal, or even less so. She didn't want that memory being released. Her hearts broke more at the thought and Ross demanding to be sent home. The TARDIS knew her thief was upset, so she let out a warm hum letting her know that everything will be alright.

"I know, old girl." The Time Lord gave a sad smile, and placed hand on the large column in the middle of the console. "I'll be alright. I always am.

#romance #adventure #doctor who fanfic #doctor who #doctor x rose #the doctor #doctor who fanfiction #bbc doctor who #doctor who imagine #ninth doctor #9th doctor x rose #9th doctor #fem!9th doctor x male!rose tyler #fem!9th doctor #male!rose tyler #the doctor x rose tyler #rose tyler

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lizzy-bennet · 4 years

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Stars in a Bottle Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Eleven x Clara Length: 4,000 words Warnings: None Also on Ao3

Keeping the Doctor still is like trying to catch stars in a bottle, Clara thinks. He’s something that just can’t be contained, his energy spilling over, electric and crackling and begging to be back in the sky.

Which is a bit of a problem, considering he and Clara are currently stuck in a sub, miles and miles down under the sea. (A follow up to the Series 7 episode, Cold War, which ends with the Doctor and Clara being trapped on a submarine until they reach the TARDIS at the South Pole.)

Clara stands atop a surfaced submarine, surrounded by a sea of half-sunken icebergs. There’s snow flurries fluttering softly in the air like white feathers and wind whipping against her pale blue party dress, and up in the sky, there’s a silver Ice Warrior spaceship, flying away.

But never mind that. Clara’s more interested in why, when the Doctor promised her Vegas, the TARDIS dumped them onto a sinking submarine and then disappeared, like some sort of twisted version of ding-dong-ditch. “Where’s the TARDIS? You never explained,” Clara asks him now, and the Doctor glances at her a bit shiftily, before edging away as if he’s afraid of a scolding.

“I’ve been tinkering, adjusting some settings. I’m allowed,” he tells her, adding on that last sentence a bit defensively when Clara raises an eyebrow.

“What did you do?”

“I reset the HADS.” Clara stares at him blankly. She has no idea what the HADS is, other than she’s pretty sure - no, scratch that - definitely sure he shouldn’t have been tinkering with it in the first place.

“The Hostile Action Displacement System,” he explains. “If the TARDIS thinks it’s under attack, it relocates. Which is why the TARDIS is now at...”

The Doctor’s next words come out in a low, half-mumble under his breath, like maybe if he says them quietly enough, Clara can’t hear him, and if she can’t hear him, then she can’t be mad at him.

His plan’s not working.

“Doctor,” Clara says, “where’s the TARDIS?”

”She’s at the pole.”

“Right. Not far, then.”

He wrinkles his nose, “The South Pole.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“I see now.”

“You do, don’t you?”

And with that, the Doctor turns, and just like he’s simply using a deep sea Uber, he stares at the submarine captain and asks, “Can we have a lift?”

Clara sits in her small submarine cabin and sighs, rubbing her temple and closing her eyes.

By all accounts, the Doctor was handling being stuck on the sub better when its lights were flashing bright red and there was an Ice Warrior who wanted them all dead. That, at least, was dangerous, and dangerous was exciting, so dangerous was something the Doctor could handle. Boredom, he could not.

He’d already created a “disco” setting for the warning lights, invented a rather ominous looking tea kettle out of bits from a broken welding iron, and tried to increase the sub’s speed by something called “a klavnic knot.” All this eventually led to the Captain suggesting that the Doctor retire to his cabin indefinitely or be shot through the head.

The Doctor‘d had to think about it for a long minute.

But now he‘s here with her, in this too-grey, too-small of a room, and the both of them sit side-by-side on the hard edge of the narrow, metal bunk, and stare straight ahead at the windowless wall.

“You promised me Vegas,” Clara says.

“I know.” A beat, and then, “This isn’t Vegas.”

”Trust me,” the Doctor says, glowering at the wall, “I know.”

Clara laughs and then shudders, suddenly chilled. The pretty, filmy but flimsy fabric of her vintage dress she’d picked out seems like a bad choice, in hindsight, and Clara frowns ruefully as she distinctly remembers coming across a forest-green, fur-lined parka while in the TARDIS wardrobe and tossing it aside.

Why, oh, why, had she done that?

(Well, probably because she thought she was going to be partying in Vegas, and one simply did not wear parkas when one went partying in Vegas.)

Goose bumps blossom down her arms, so Clara crosses them, folding them against her chest, trying to keep warm, and then, to her surprise, she sees the Doctor’s stopped watching the wall and is looking at her now instead, frowning in that worried way of his that makes his eyes look ten-thousand-years-old.

“What?” she asks, but instead of replying, he moves, standing and slipping his arms out of the sleeves of his long, deep purple coat, and then he leans down, gently draping it over Clara’s shoulders, and she feels the warm weight of his hands lingering along her arms just for a moment as he does. “Better?” he asks.

His coat is much too big and far too long for someone as short as she is, and Clara’s overcome with the sensation that she’s a caterpillar, bundled up inside of a fabric cocoon. The ends of the coat sleeves go beyond the tips of her fingers, and the hem of it falls past her heels to brush against the floor, but the tweed is soothing and soft and wraps her in warmth, and Clara thinks she’s never worn anything cozier in her life.

”Better,” Clara agrees, as she snuggles down deeper inside. “Thank you, but don’t you need it?”

The Doctor makes a harrumphing, dismissive sort of noise, as if Clara’s made another silly suggestion again, like he did that one time she compared time streams to strawberry jam. “‘Course I don’t.”

Clara’s eyes sweep over him, taking in his woven waistcoat and white shirtsleeves. She doesn’t see how he can possibly stand it, how he’s dealing so easily with the freezing, icy air, when just the idea of giving up the coat makes her shudder again, a full body one that travels all the way down to the tips of her toes, and the Doctor reaches out to take her hand in his. “Like ice,” he murmurs, closing his other hand over hers and rubbing it, briskly but gently, trying to get some heat back into it. “Humans. Your lot has such terribly inconvenient body temperatures. Wouldn’t last a day picnicking in the Arctic without protection.”

“Who would do a thing like that, anyway?”

“The abominable snowmen, for one. Oh, they’ve got such good inner temperature, Clara, they can frolic on the ice floes for days without catching a cold. I should take you to meet their clan. Well,“ he pauses there, rethinking that. “They’ve got good temperatures, but not so much good tempers. So, on second thought, no, maybe we won’t visit them after all.”

Clara hums in agreement, listening as the Doctor continues to talk about this and that and then change his mind all within the time it takes for her to inhale, and when he’s done, she asks, “How are you not cold?” “Ah,” he says, and she can already hear so much smugness packed into the one tiny word. “Time Lord biology. I’m perfectly adaptable to both lower and higher temperatures. Gallifreyan bodies,” he informs her, “are far superior to human bodies’.”

“Seriously? Superior?”

”In every possible way.”

“How do you explain that chin, then?”

He huffs at her, and then clucks, muttering something indignantly under his breath that sounds like a mixture of ungrateful minx and shut up.

But he doesn’t let go of her hand.

Right now he’s a moving blur of long, tangled limbs as he flaps his hands and talks and plans, his mind already far beyond the confines of the sub.

“We can still go to Vegas,” he tells Clara. ”Vegas in nineteen-eighty-nine, in fact. Neon lights against the night sky. Firework shows and fireball drinks, dance floors and disco balls, and everywhere you go, people hoping for a little thing called luck.”

He plops down beside her suddenly, slinging his arm over her shoulders, “Or, alternatively, Vegas in three-thousand-thirteen, when anti-gravs are all the rage, and the Vegas strip levitates. Gives a whole new meaning to walking on air. Or, an alternative to the alternative: we don’t choose a Vegas, we choose both Vegases. Well, same Vegas, different points in time. But the question is, Clara Oswald, which one first?” Clara tilts back to peer up at him, and she feels his arm adjust around her, letting her lean back, but not letting her go.

“I think,“ she says, trying to contain a smile, “that we’d better get off the sub first.”

He huffs, “Practical spoilsport.”

Later, Clara catches the Doctor attempting to slip out the door.

“Doctor,” Clara says warningly, still wrapped up in his coat, nearly tripping on its hem as she rises to stop him, ”didn’t the Captain put you on cabin arrest?”

The Doctor flaps his hand, as if he can simply wave away her concern, and since he’s holding his sonic screwdriver as he does this, he sends its bright neon light flashing around the room.

“Clara, please,” he says, “it’s your day off, stop nannying.”

“Excuse me?” Clara raises an eyebrow. She’ll stop nannying when someone stops acting like a child that needs a nanny, thank you very much.

“I’ll skip out for just a mo.”

“Doctor, I think you should stay in here.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Clara eyes him skeptically, doubt written out across her face, but he ignores it.

Instead, he places his palm against the curve of her cheek, and leans forward to press a swift kiss to her forehead, his thumb brushing lightly along her cheekbone as he does.

“You worry too much,” he tells her blithely, and Clara thinks he means his words to be soothing, but they really just make her think he’s up to something shifty.

“I think I worry the proper amount,” Clara counters, but the Doctor’s already merrily slipping away, out of her grasp, closing the door behind him and heading down the corridor.

It’s not even a full fifteen minutes later when Clara hears the sound of the sonic and then something that sounds suspiciously like falling metal, followed by garbled shouting and the sharp click of a handgun’s safety being released. There’s silence for a second after that, and then Clara hears rapid, clumsy footsteps headed back toward the cabin.

The door opens, the Doctor scuttles inside, and Clara tries not to smirk as he quietly announces: “I think I should stay in here.”

# Clara sits with her chin resting on her hands, watching the Doctor, who’s holding the sonic screwdriver uncomfortably tight and flickering its green light as he stares up at the lightbulb in a way she doesn’t quite like. Before he can sonic it to be brighter or darker or turn it into a lava lamp or whatever the despairingly bored Time Lord is thinking of doing, Clara decides to distract him.

“Tell me about something,” she commands.

“Tell you about what?” he asks, and he sounds both curious and confused by her request, but he still hasn’t looked away from the light.

“A fact, a story, anything,” Clara says. “You’re a thousand years old. There must be something you can talk about. Space trivia. Urban myths. The first place that you visited. Last girl that you kissed.”

Now that catches his attention, Clara notices. At her last sentence, his head snaps down and he swivels around to stare at her in surprise.

“Oh,” Clara says, grinning now. “It was some kiss, then, was it?”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it, indignant.

“See,” Clara says smugly, “knew it was a snog box.”

“Shut up,” he finally says, and Clara notices a faint dusting of pink right across his cheeks.

“You blushed,” she says delightedly, and then she frowns, and he stares at her oddly, like she’s some sort of cipher he can’t figure out. And there’s something she can’t quite figure out either, because somewhere deep in the back of her mind, there’s a dark sense of déjà vu and a nagging notion that she’s said those words to him before.

But she couldn’t have.

She’s positive.

It isn’t possible.

Being trapped under the ocean must be doing things to her mind.

“Come on, tell me about her,” Clara says, pushing those hazy, bothersome thoughts away, and turning her attention back to the Doctor. “Where’d you meet this girl?”

“London,” he answers, and though he’s there beside her, he looks faraway. “It was snowing. There were snowmen. She -“ he pauses, looks over at Clara, down at her dress, and he looks like he’s halfway out of the past, halfway into the present, as he almost inaudibly says, “She wore a blue dress too.”

Clara listens to him carefully, watches intently, but there are too many layers in his voice and emotions flashing over his face for her to fully decipher. As soon as she sees sadness in his eyes, she catches a glimpse of wonder, and then past that there’s grief and determination and hope and, more than anything, the look of a man trying to solve something he just can’t understand.

“Was she nice, this girl?” Clara asks quietly.

He looks down at the floor, “Yes, yes she was. She was nice and brave and clever and far better than me.”

“Nah,” Clara teases. “That’s impossible, no one’s better than you.”

He looks up at her, “You’d be surprised.”

They sit in silence for a minute, and then Clara asks, “So what happened to her? Is she still alive?”

The Doctor stares at her, searches her eyes, and ever so softly, he says, “Sometimes I think she is.”

Clara nods, not knowing why she feels like she’s going to smile, but also going to cry. #

The Doctor’s dealing with his bored, listless energy by relentlessly rapping his hand against metal, the rise and fall of his fingers rhythmic like rain.

It’s driving Clara insane.

She’s trying to read a book she’s found in the cabin. The book’s not interesting, really. It’s something to do with Russian history and is as dusty as it is long, but there’s not much else to do, and at least it’s a novelty to think that, technically, she’s reading a book in Russian even if it’s all being translated into English for her.

But Clara can’t concentrate with that constant, infernal tapping.

“Doctor, stop,” she says sternly.

Without looking up from her book, Clara reaches her hand out and lays it on top of his, the pads of her fingers pressing against the back of his hand, pulling it down and pinning it lightly in place in-between them.

The Doctor stills under her touch, the cabin falling silent, his swirling sea of restless energy starting to calm, and then slowly, she feels his hand move beneath hers, rotating and repositioning so that they’re palm to palm, holding hands.

Amused, Clara’s eyes flicker up from her book to look at him, but he’s not looking at her. He’s staring somewhere up at where the ceiling meets the wall, and Clara wonders if he's even noticed their entwined hands at all.

Holding her hand must’ve been some sort of automatic, unconscious response, she realizes as she watches him, because he’s off lost in thought, counting the bolts in the room or mentally reciting the numbers of pi, or whatever it is bored Time Lords do.

At least he’s quiet, she thinks, and goes back to her book, her eyes taking in the faded, narrow print on the page.

She makes it a whole four paragraphs more before she senses his absent-minded energy surging again, and he starts shifting restlessly.

Then she feels the soft brush of his thumb moving up, gently ghosting across her skin.

Clara’s breath catches, caught somewhere beneath her collarbone, and there’s surprise in her eyes before slowly, she exhales, convinced it was all a mistake. But then he does it again, his thumb drifting up, absently tracing a circle on the soft, inner center of her wrist, and Clara finds she can’t concentrate, not with the way his fingers are slipping beneath the sleeve of her coat and skimming over her skin and how there’s something like a shiver starting down her spine. She’s still facing her book, but her eyes flutter shut, and she tries to decipher what exactly it is that he’s drawing out on her wrist.

At first it feels like maybe he’s mapping something, some invisible, ethereal, navigational chart that only he can see, or sketching out stars on her skin. But then she feels the pad of his thumb softly sweeping something smaller and circular over her, and it feels less like a constellation string and more like cursive, making Clara think that maybe what he’s doing is writing invisible words.

“What language is that?” Clara finally asks, and though there’s curiosity in her voice, her sentence comes out hushed, barely above a whisper. This moment is something soft, something fragile, and Clara’s afraid that simply speaking will shatter it.

The Doctor’s lips turn down in a frown, her words pulling him out of his thoughts and back into the world, and then he looks down at how their hands are intertwined in-between them and he blinks in surprise, his thumb brushing over her wrist once more before stopping, coming to rest right above her pulse-point. ”Sorry,” he says, confused and contrite. “Head in the clouds. Hadn’t realized.”

“It’s fine,” Clara answers, and she knows from where his fingers press, he can feel the fast, fluttering melody of her heartbeat, and she hopes he hasn't guessed that he’s the reason behind it. “Just tell me what it is.”

“It’s Gallifreyan,” he answers quietly. “A language so ancient it’s older than half the stars, and every bit as beautiful.”

Clara’s lips curve up at the corners, and her eyes flicker up to his.

“Show me,” she says.

He shrugs, “No pen and paper. No chalk either. Not even a tiny, table-top zen garden with a tiny rake to write in the sand with. This cabin is surprisingly lacking in resources.”

“Come on, Doctor,” Clara says, and she tugs him closer and then holds out her hand, palm up. “Just show me how you write it, I’d like to see.”

The Doctor hesitates, looking torn, but then, ever so slowly, his hand comes forward, and she watches as his finger moves in delicate, intricate curves, lightly tracing words onto her palm.

“What does that mean?” Clara asks, wondering what he’s spelled across her skin. He laughs, ducks his head, and says:

“It means Impossible Girl.” # Clara’s aware that they’re sitting on a bunk and that there’s a pillow somewhere behind her, but she can’t be bothered to look for it, not when there’s a perfectly good Time Lord next to her to lean against instead. The aforementioned Time Lord is finally sitting contented and still, having taken over her book, the discussion of ancient Russian history fascinating him much more than it did her (likely, Clara thinks, because he was actually there), so she scoots over, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Tired,” she says, yawning.

“Staring at a wall all day can be draining,” he says wisely.

“What about you? You don’t look tired at all.”

“I don’t sleep,” he says, turning another page of his book.

“Not ever?” Clara asks, not too sleepy to not be skeptical.

“Well, fine. Sometimes,” he amends. “I sleep sometimes.”

“Like when?”

“Like when people aren’t pestering me,” he says, and Clara swats his arm. ”I don’t need that much sleep, Time Lord biology is -“

“Superior in every way, yes, you've mentioned that.”

He looks up from his book and glances down at her, “Do you need the bunk? I can stand.” Clara makes a small noise of disagreement. The smooth cotton of his shirt feels soft against her cheek, and he’s much more comfortable than she ever would have guessed, what with his gangly, flailing limbs.

Besides, he’d promised her Vegas and landed her here instead. The least he could do was sit still and be a pillow. “Don’t move,” she says, curling in against him.

“Clara,” he says lightly, and there’s amusement and terror and terrible fondness in his eyes as he watches her nuzzle her face against his waistcoat. “I don’t think -“

But he’s too late, Clara’s already gotten comfortable and is nestled into his side, holding him in place and firmly shutting her eyes.

“All right, you can stay,” he says, as if he actually has a choice in the matter. “But it’s not happening again. I’m no one’s personal pillow.” “More like a personal space heater,” Clara mumbles saucily, half-asleep already.

”Watch it,” he warns, trying his very best to sound scolding and indignant, but Clara merely hums contentedly in response.

And as the soft tendrils of sleep overtake her, she feels his fingers gently running through her hair, and with both laughter and affection in his voice, he whispers, “Sleep well, Impossible Girl.”

Later, when Clara wakes up and rubs the sleep from her eyes, she finds her head‘s still curved against the crook of his neck, and her hand’s moved to rest right in the middle of his chest, in the center space between his two hearts, and she can feel their tandem tempo, beating out a rhythm beneath her fingers.

And the Doctor, well, he’s sleeping from what Clara can tell. His eyes are shut and he’s slumped over, half-sitting, half-sinking against the wall, and his left arm’s looped around her shoulders.

One side of Clara’s lips twitch up into a smile, and as if he can somehow sense her rising laughter, the Doctor wakes up, and he opens one eye, glancing at her with sleepy suspicion.

“Time Lords don’t sleep, hmm?” Clara can’t resist saying. “Superior biology.”

“Got bored,” he grouses, sitting and shifting them up. “There was nothing to do, not with you curled up on me like some sort of sleepy, clingy cat. Incredibly boring. Completely boring. Body shut down as a defense mechanism against the lack of mental stimuli, that’s what it was.”

Clara nods solemnly, “Of course.”

“Shut up,” he grumps, but she swears she sees a hint of pale pink on his cheeks.

They’ve just gotten news that they’re surfacing and that they’ll soon be back with the TARDIS, and giddy with excitement, the Doctor takes out a giant, old map he’s found tucked under the bunk and tacks it up, spreading its paper green mountains and blue paper seas over the dull grey metal wall.

“Close your eyes, Clara,” he says, a delighted grin on his face, and when she does, she feels his hands wrap around her shoulders, and she laughs as he gently spins her in place.

“It’ll be just like pin the tail on the donkey, except better. Because any place your hand lands on the map, we’ll go,” he says, offering her the world as he twirls her around. “North or South, East or West, anywhere and everywhere, whenever you want.”

Finally, he stops spinning, positioning Clara in what she assumes is the space in front of the map. With her eyes still shut, she feels him lean down over her shoulder, and there’s a shiver that goes down her spine as his face falls next to her ear and he whispers, “All you have to do is point.”

So Clara points, her hand connecting with paper, and when she opens them, she finds the pad of her finger directly over a country.

“Peru,” she says, reading what she’s landed on and smiling.

“Peru,” he echoes excitedly. “Good choice, Clara. Amazon rainforests and Andes Mountains and ancient Incan cities. Frogs and fog oases and cactuses and cloud-forest slopes.” And then he turns to her, his eyes glittering as he grins and says, “How would you like to be beside Hiram Bingham when he discovers Machu Picchu?”

And Clara grins back, because there’s a whole wide world waiting for them outside of this sub, and adventure’s only a breath away, and how lucky is she, to have this magic, mad, impossible man offering her the universe in the palm of his hand?

So, laughing, she reaches out for his hand and says, “Doctor, any point in time will do, as long as it’s with you.”

And as his fingers close around hers, he says:

“Likewise, Clara Oswald, likewise.”

And she knows it’s true.

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