#it’s sort of like Clara running around with her own tardis

[katebisho]

Like I really loved the giggle and it was done really well and Donna got everything she deserved and more and I’m so happy for her, but I just don’t know if I liked it. Does that make any sense?

[shkspr]

hi. on your post where you may or may not have ended on 'moffat is either your angel or your devil' did you have maybe an elaboration on that somewhere that i could possibly hear about. i'm very much a capaldi era stan and i've never tried to defend the matt smith era even though it had delightful moments sometimes so i wonder where that puts me. i'd love to hear your perspective on moffat as a person with your political perspective. -nicole

hi ok sorry i took so long to respond to this but i dont think you know how LOADED this question is for me but i am so happy to elaborate on that for you. first a few grains of salt to flavor your understanding of the whole situation: a. im unfairly biased against moffat bc im a davies stan and a tennant stan; b. i still very much enjoy and appreciate moffat era who for many reasons; and c. i hate moffat on a personal level far more than i could ever hate his work.

the thing is that its all always gonna be a bit mixed up bc i have to say a bunch of seemingly contradictory things in a row. for instance, a few moffat episodes are some of my absolute favorites of the rtd era, AND the show went way downhill when moffat took over, AND the really good episodes he wrote during the rtd era contained the seeds of his destruction.

like i made that post about the empty child/the doctor dances and it holds true for blink and thats about it bc the girl in the fireplace and silence in the library/forest of the dead are good but not nearly on the same level, and despite the fact that i like them at least nominally, they are also great examples of everything i hate about moffat and how he approached dw as a whole.

basically. doctor who is about people. there are many things about moffats tenure as showrunner that i think are a step up from rtd era who! actual gay people, for one! but i think that can likely be attributed mostly to an evolving Society as opposed to something inherent to him and his work, seeing as rtd is literally gay, and the existence of queer characters in moffats work doesnt mean the existence of good queer characters (ill give him bill but thats it!)

i have a few Primary Grievances with moffat and how he ran dw. all of them are things that got better with capaldi, but didnt go away. they are as follows:

moffat projects his own god complex onto the doctor

rtd era who had a doctor with a god complex. you cant ever be the doctor and not have a god complex. the problem with moffats era specifically is that the god complex was constant and unrepentant and was seen as a fundamental personality trait of the doctor rather than a demon he has to fight. he has the Momence where you feel bad for him, the Momence where he shows his humility or whatever and youre reminded that he doesnt want to be the lonely god, but those are just. moments. in a story where the doctor thinks hes the main character. rtd era doctor was aware that he wasnt the main character. he had to be an authority sometimes and he had to be the loner and he had to be sad about it, but he ultimately understood that he was expendable in a narrative sense.

this is how you get lines like “were the thin fat gay married anglican marines, why would we need names as well?” from the same show that gave you the gut punch moment at the end of midnight when they realize that nobody asked the hostess for her name. and on the one hand, thats a small sticking point, but on the other hand, its just one small example of the simple disregard that moffat has for humanity.

incidentally, this is a huge part of why sherlock sucked so bad: moffats main characters are special bc theyre so much bigger and better than all the normal people, and thats his downfall as a showrunner. he thinks that his audience wants fucking sheldon cooper when what they want is people.

like, ok. think of how many fantastic rtd era eps are based in the scenario “what if the doctor wasnt there? what if he was just out of commission for a bit?” and how those eps are the heart of the show!! bc theyre about people being people!! the thing is that all of the rtd era companions would have died for the doctor but he understood and the story understood that it wasnt about him.

this is like. nine sending rose home to save her life and sacrifice his own vs clara literally metaphysically entwining her existence w the doctor. ten also sending rose with her family to save her life vs river being raised from infancy to be obsessed w the doctor and then falling in love w him. martha leaving bc she values herself enough to make that decision vs amy being treated like a piece of meat.

and this is simultaneously a great callback to when i said that moffats episodes during the rtd era sometimes had the same problems as his show running (bc girl in the fireplace reeks of this), and a great segue into the next grievance.

moffat hates women

he hates women so fucking much. g-d, does steven moffat ever hate women. holy shit, he hates women. especially normal human women who prioritize their normal human lives on an equal or higher level than the doctor. moffat hated rose bc she wasnt special by his standards. the empty child/the doctor dances is the nicest he ever treated her, and she really didnt do much in those eps beyond a fuck ton of flirting.

girl in the fireplace is another shining example of this. youve got rose (who once again has another man to keep her busy, bc moffat doesnt think shes good enough for the doctor) sidelined for no reason only to be saved by the doctor at the last second or whatever. and then youve got reinette, who is pretty and powerful and special!

its just. moffat thinks that the doctor is as shallow and selfish as he is. thats why he thinks the doctor would stay in one place with reinette and not with rose. bc moffat is shallow and sees himself in the doctor and doesnt think he should have to settle for someone boring and normal.

not to mention rose met the doctor as an adult and chose to stay with him whereas reinette is. hm. introduced to the doctor as a child and grows up obsessed with him.

does that sound familiar? it should! bc it is also true of amy and river. and all of them are treated as viable romantic pairings. bc the only women who deserve the doctor are the ones whose entire existence revolves around him. which includes clara as well.

genuinely i think that at least on some level, not even necessarily consciously, that bill was a lesbian in part bc capaldi was too old to appeal to mainstream shippers. like twelve/clara is still a thing but not as universally appealing as eleven/clara but i am just spitballing. but i think they weighed the pros and cons of appealing to the woke crowd over the het shippers and found that gay companion was more profitable. anyway the point is to segue into the next point, which is that moffat hates permanent consequences.

moffat hates permanent consequences

steven moffat does not know how to kill a character. honestly it feels like hes doing it on purpose after a certain point, like he knows he has this habit and hes trying to riff on it to meme his own shit, but it doesnt work. it isnt funny and it isnt harmless, its bad writing.

the end of the doctor dances is so poignant and so meaningful and so fucking good bc its just this once! everybody lives, just this once! and then he does p much the same thing in forest of the dead - this one i could forgive, bc i do think that preserving those peoples consciousnesses did something for the doctor as a character, it wasnt completely meaningless. but everything after that kinda was.

rory died so many times its like. get a hobby lol. amy died at least once iirc but it was all a dream or something. clara died and was erased from the doctors memory. river was in prison and also died. bill? died. all of them sugarcoated or undone or ignored by the narrative to the point of having effectively no impact on the story. the point of a major character death is that its supposed to have a point. and you could argue that a piece of art could be making a point with a pointless death, ie. to put perspective on it and remind you that bad shit just happens, but with moffat the underlying message is always “i can do whatever i want, nothing is permanent or has lasting impact ever.”

basically, with moffat, tragedy exists to be undone. and this was a really brilliant, really wonderful thing in the doctor dances specifically bc it was the doctor clearly having seen his fair share of tragedy that couldnt be helped, now looking on his One Win with pride and delight bc he doesnt get wins like this! and then moffat proceeded to give him the same win over and over and over and over. nobody is ever dead. nobody is ever unable to be saved. and if they are, really truly dead and/or gone, then thats okay bc moffat has decided that [insert mitigating factor here]*

*the mitigating factor is usually some sort of computerized database of souls.

i can hear the moffat stans falling over themselves to remind me that amy and rory definitely died, and they did - after a long and happy life together, they died of old age. i dont consider that a character death any more than any other character choosing to permanently leave the tardis.

and its not just character deaths either, its like, everything. the destruction of gallifrey? never mind lol! character development? scrapped! the same episode four times? lets give it a fifth try and hope nobody notices. bc he doesnt know how to not make the doctor either an omnipotent savior or a self-pitying failure.

it is in nature of doctor who, i believe, for the doctor to win most of the time. like, it wouldnt be a very good show if he didnt win most of the time. but it also wouldnt be a very good show if he won all of the time. my point is that moffats doctor wins too often, and when he doesnt win, it feels empty and hollow rather than genuinely humbling, and you know hes not gonna grow from it pretty much at all.

so like. again, i like all of doctor who i enjoy all of it very much. i just think that steven moffat is a bad show runner and a decent writer at times. and it is frustrating. and im not here to convince or convert anyone im just living my truth. thank you for listening.

[riversofmars]

i wonder if you might do a story on river/13 going to a gay bar in space and they meet a bunch of previous companions/friends there too? (definitely jack for sure!) thanks

Okay first off, I love this prompt!! And it’s perfect for Pride month! I may, however, have taken some liberties and gone a bit bigger than a simple gay bar.... anyway :D I set out to write the gayest thing you’ll read all month... I hope I’ve succeeded! Happy Pride!

Invitation With A Kiss

“So what is this place, Doc?“ Graham asked as they made their way to the door of the TARDIS.

“Had an invitation!“ The Doctor retorted with a grin double-checking her psychic paper to make sure she had the right place and time.

“Who from?“ Yaz asked curiously.

“Ah, well, you know…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off but Yaz was quick enough to snatch the psychic paper from her fingers before she could try to hide it.

“Signed with a kiss?“ Yaz gaped and a wide grin spread across her features. Finally something to truly wind their friend up with and Ryan smirked as well:

“You sure you want us to tag along?“

“Oh, shut up, it’s not exactly a private party.“ The Doctor huffed trying to hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks. Quickly, she opened the door before any of her friends could comment and stepped outside.

“Oh wow, I don’t think I have words for this…“ Yaz started laughing as she joined the Doctor. They found themselves at the side of a most colourful parade. There were rainbows EVERYWHERE! Balloons, confetti, flags, people were dancing, hugging, kissing, having the time of their lives. “Please tell me this is…“

“Planet Pride.“ The Doctor grinned and put her hands on her hips as she took in the atmosphere. It was elating. There was a mild breeze that carried music and exotic smells, the sun was blazing down but not unpleasantly and the joy surrounding them was almost palpable. “Think of your 21st century Pride celebrations, multiply it by, I don’t know, a whole galaxy celebrating togetherness and inclusivity, and you get the greatest queer party this side of the universe.“ The Doctor turned to her friends who were still in awe.

“Isn’t this like… the future?“ Yaz finally found her voice and looked to the Doctor who was surprised to find concern in her eyes: “Is there a need for Pride still? Like I would have thought the issue would long be resolved and…“

“Oh it is, don’t worry!“ The Doctor grinned as she understood what she was getting at. “Doesn’t erase the past though. It’s part of the history of humankind… very sad, pointless, stupid part, but history nonetheless. Can’t and shouldn’t erase history, else you can’t learn from past mistakes… But let’s face it, Pride is brilliant. By this point it’s just an excuse to have one hell of a party.“ She pushed her hands into her pockets and they started walking down the street.

“This is brilliant.“ The Fam quickly found themselves accessorised by strangers, flower garlands and all sorts of amusing party hats were being passed out.

“Who’s the invite from, then?“ Ryan asked as they quickly caught up with the Doctor who was looking around the sea of people, clearly searching for someone.

“My wife.“ The Doctor answered knowing full well that there was no way she could keep it from them. She stopped and gnawed her bottom lip as she scanned the crowd. Where was she? Like she stood a chance of finding her amongst all these people…

“Your what now?“ Graham’s face fell and he nearly ran into her.

“Wife.“ The Doctor retorted matter-of-factly looking back to her friends. “We’re here to celebrate Pride, remember?“

“Yes but… you’re married?!“ Yaz exclaimed and carried on teasingly: “Who would agree to that?!“

“Well, we have always wondered that at one point or another…“ A voice sounded behind them and they all whirled around.

“Jack!“ The Fam exclaimed in unison as Captain Jack Harkness saluted with a grin.

“Hello, Doctor.“ He scooped the Doctor up in a tight hug who squeaked as the air was pushed from her lungs. “Fancy seeing you here! Are you ready for a party?“

“Hello Jack.“ She managed as she tried to extricate herself from his arms. “Bit too much to drink already?“ Jack ignored her comment and turned to the Fam, extending his arms.

“Ryan. Yaz. … Graham.“ He winked at Graham who blushed a little. Jack’s flirting was not lost on him or anyone else for that matter. “Missed me?“ He grinned. “Did you come here to see me?“

“While I knew you’d be here, no, not exactly.“ The Doctor retorted, trying to let him down gently.

“Well, that’s just as well.“ Jack huffed, trying not to look too offended. “I’m here with a Doctor of my own anyway. Though I seem to have lost him… and Donna just keeps trying to pass me drink after drink so…“

“You’re here with me? And Donna?“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock.

“There’s another version of you here?“ Yaz asked, utterly confused. The Doctor had told them plenty of times about how she had been a different person before and how Time Lords could regenerate their body, but they had never actually seen proof of it.

“And I don’t remember it… timelines crossing…“ The Doctor realised running her hands through her hair nervously. There was potential for disastrous chaos here.

“Doctor?“ A voice called and they all looked around. The girl that had called out wasn’t looking at them though, she was scanning the crowd and turned to another girl whose hand she was holding. “He must be here somewhere, that’s his TARDIS over there.“ They were searching for the Doctor too.

“Well, I’ve got a Doctor here if you’re looking for one!“ Jack called out without thinking. He didn't know the girls but the look on the Doctor’s face revealed that she did. She was simply too stunned to respond just yet. The girls looked at Jack who waved with a wide grin. “I think you mean to say: Her TARDIS. Times change!“

“Bill…“ The Doctor finally found her voice again as she stared at her long lost friend. There she was. Brilliant, beautiful Bill Potts. Cyberman no longer, holding on to her girlfriend’s hand and shock painted all over her face as the realisation hit her.

“Oh my GOD!“ Bill exclaimed, frozen to the spot.

“And Heather.“ The Doctor was beginning to grin now and hurried over.

“You have to be joking!“ Bill was still in shock, she shook her head to herself as the Doctor came to a halt in front of her with the Fam and Jack following close behind.

“Hello Bill!“ The Doctor smirked, amused by how her brain was reeling. “What? Not even a hug?“ She chuckled as Bill was finally pulled from her stupor.

“I really don't think I should hug you…“ Bill found her voice at last as she looked her up and down. “Cause you’re like… dead hot right now…“ She glanced at Heather who just laughed. “But also, you’re my weird space grandpa! So come here!“ She pulled the Doctor in a tight hug laughing.

“Fam, this is my friend Bill and her girlfriend Heather.“ The Doctor introduced them all.

“Lovely to meet you.“ Heather smiled. “I have a feeling you will be seeing quite a few familiar faces.“ She told the Doctor with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, it’ll get complicated when you run into yourself…“ Bill grinned, amused at the very prospect of it.

“He’s here, too?“ The Doctor’s face fell. Things were bound to get even more complicated with two of her former regenerations around!

“Well yeah, we were looking for him, lost him somewhere along the way…“ Bill explained. “Oh God…“

“What?“ The Doctor frowned, alarmed at the dread in her friend’s voice.

“Quickly, hide!“ She pulled the Doctor and Heather behind a make-shift beach bar that served all sorts of colourful cocktails. The other’s mirrored their actions. While they didn’t know what was going on, it seemed like the right course of action.

“Bill, what…“ The Doctor started to protest but forgot where she was going with it when her eyes fell on two very familiar people, making their way towards the bar.

“I really don’t know why you insisted on coming here.“ Missy gave a huff as they came within earshot.

“Why not? It’s fun.“ Clara retorted, amused at the displeasure on the Time Lady’s face.

“I don’t see what’s so exciting about drawing rainbows on your face and parading around the street.“ Missy rather stood out in her almost completely black outfit.

“Humour me.“ Clara retorted, who - in her colourful waitress uniform - looked the complete opposite. “I’ll make it worth your while.“ She looped her arm around Missy’s.

“You better.“ Missy pursed her lips, looking to the girl at her side, then continued to scan the crowd.

“If you didn’t want to come, why did you?“ Clara asked and scoffed as Missy paid her little attention and kept looking around: “You’re hoping the Doctor will be here, aren’t you. And here I was thinking you actually wanted to spend time with me.“

“Doctor, who are they?“ Yaz whispered to the Doctor, struggling to follow what was going on. Those two women clearly knew her and the Doctor seemed to know them too as all colour had drained from her face.

“Doctor, what do you want to do?“ Bill whispered to her but she didn’t respond, she was transfixed.

“Don’t get me wrong, Clara, dear, I enjoy a booty call as much as the next Time Lady.“ Missy smirked, looking back to Clara. “Particularly one where my sweet little plaything is intoxicated on sweet drinks and self righteousness but if I just happen to run into the Doctor and get the opportunity to kill him, that would be a two birds one stone kind of scenario. Particularly if I get to mortally embarrass him by putting you in a rather compromising position first.“ Missy ran her fingertips along Clara’s jaw, pushing her head up a little.

“Right, that’s it!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Clara!“ She called, marching out of their hiding place.

“Huh?“ Clara and Missy looked around confused, annoyed at the moment being so rudely interrupted.

“Oh God…“ Bill groaned and they all rushed after the Doctor.

“Sorry dear, this is a private conversation, pick a number and I’ll get to you in a sec.“ Missy gave a dismissive wave of her hand, refocusing her attention on Clara but the Doctor wouldn’t have it.

“Missy, get your hands off her right now!“ The Doctor threatened.

“Who’s this, Doctor?“ Yaz asked, hoping for an explanation.

“Doctor?“ Missy raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“Doctor?“ Clara echoed, surprised, excited and embarrassed in equal measures.

“What are you doing with her??“ The Doctor demanded to know off Clara as she wildly gestured at her nemesis.

“My my my, isn’t this some sight. Finally had the upgrade as well?“ Missy ignored the comment as she regarded her childhood friend’s new body. She snaked her arm around Clara and pulled her close to her side.

“Missy!“ The Doctor growled. “Get away from her!“

“Why?“ Missy feigned innocence and hurt. “She asked me here? She wants me here. You could even say she wants me .“ She gave a triumphant smirk and the Doctor flushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger.

“Clara, is that…“

“Uhhh…“ Clara blushed even more deeply than the Doctor herself.

“Does anyone else feel like they're slightly out of the loop?“ Ryan piped up, trying to make sense of the situation in front of them. For whatever reason, the Doctor was interrupting what looked like a perfectly consensual, happy date…

“This is the Master.“ The Doctor spat angrily. “Earlier version… don’t let the lipstick fool you, just as deadly.“

“Lipstick makes for a wonderful weapon, particularly in the right hands. Just ask your lovely wife.“ Missy retorted with a smile. “Where is she, by the way? You’re not here single , are you?“ She tightened the grip on Clara for emphasis.

“Missy!“ Clara slapped the Time Lady’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re all here to have some fun, can’t we just do that.“

“I can have fun with you anywhere I like.“ Missy smirked, moving her hand lower to the hem of her skirt, just enough to make the Doctor nearly lose it. “Fine. Alright.“ She let go of her. “Be a good little puppy now and fetch me a drink then.“ She smirked at the Doctor who balled her hands to tight fits, looking like she was about to burst. Missy laying her hands on one of her friends like that was just too much.

“Anyone else for a cocktail?“ Clara turned back to the group, hoping to move to conversation along to where she wouldn’t be mortally embarrassed in front of her best friend.

“I’ll help you carry.“ Heather volunteered quickly following Clara to the bar.

“So the Master used to be a woman?“ Graham exclaimed at last, when the situation seemed to have defused a little.

“Spoilers.“ Missy tutted at him.

“This is going to get very complicated with everyone here.“ The Doctor had to agree. “You can’t reveal anything about anyone’s future or we could be ripping space and time apart.“

“Yes, this is quite the explosive combination.“ Missy had to concede as she regarded the Doctor’s entourage. “Which begs the question, Doctor, what brings you here? Other than the rainbow candy floss?“

“River invited me.“ The Doctor shot back, almost too quickly, as if to make the point that Missy didn’t have one over in her.

“Well, she’s here somewhere…“ Missy smirked, delighting in the fact that she knew something the Doctor didn’t. “Busy though, really busy…“

“Busy?“ The Doctor frowned. She didn’t like the way Missy was saying that but she couldn’t help her hearts somersaulting just a little bit at the confirmation that her wife was here somewhere. She would get to see her again. It had been such a long time.

“Your bride dances at numerous weddings, as usual.“ Missy hummed just as Clara and Heather returned with colourful cocktails. “Thank you dear.“ She took a bright red drink that was unsettlingly reminiscent of blood and took the opportunity to press a firm kiss to Clara’s lips. “Oh I should start doing this to all your companions, the look on your face!“ Missy laughed at the Doctor’s expression. She looked like she was about to throw a punch. “Or, you know, your wife… now that would be fun.“

“Watch it!“ The Doctor growled threateningly.

“Wherever is Professor Song?“ Missy hummed in a sing-song voice and sip her drink in delight.  

“Clara!“ Everyone looked around as two female voices chanted in unison.

“Oh hello!“ Clara recognised Vastra and Jenny immediately as they were heading straight towards them.

“More old friends?“ Ryan asked and the Doctor’s face brightened. It was hard to worry about the timeline when it was so nice to see so many of her friends.

“Vastra! Jenny!“ She grinned at them in greeting and while Jenny frowned, confused, her wife’s superior senses helped her recognise her immediately.

“Doctor!“ The lizard woman looked at her in shock. “Now that makes a change.“ She looked her up and down, surprised, but not unpleasantly. Jenny must have noticed the look on her face as she gave Vastra’s arm a playful slap.

“Oi! Married!“ She reminded her. “Hello Doctor.“ She carried on cheerfully and gave a wave to everyone else, who, with the exception of Clara, they didn’t know yet.

“It’s getting rather crowded, isn’t it.“ Missy pursed her lips shooting Clara a glance with the intention of getting out of there soon but her companion was more concerned with meeting the Doctor’s other friends, past and present. “Oi!“ She shot Jack a glare who was just putting his arm around Clara all too familiarly.

“Sorry, dear.“ Vastra gave her wife an appeasing smile and turned back to the Doctor. “We didn’t expect to see you, Doctor. At least not like this.“

“Don’t tell me.“ The Doctor groaned, sensing where this was going.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt, we just thought, when we saw Miss Oswald, perhaps she’d know where the Doctor was, a younger one, that is. Suspenders too, but bow tie…“ Vastra explained apologetically. They had lost the Doctor they had arrived with quite a while ago.

“Is that who you’re here with?“ The Doctor asked, wincing at the prospect of yet another version of hers running around this place.

“Following an invitation from your wife, as I understand it. He didn’t want to go alone.“ Jenny added.

“Where is he now?“ The Doctor asked, sensing where all this was going.

“That is a very good question.“ Vastra agreed and they all looked around, everyone scanning the crowd for their particular Doctors.

“I already have a very bad feeling about this…“ The Doctor sighed.

“Are you sure you want to find your wife?“ Missy snickered, highly amused.

“I would if I knew how.“ The Doctor huffed, as a cheerful voice carried over from the other side of the cocktail bar:

“That River Song really is something, isn’t she.“ Everyone looked around and saw a blonde pulling herself onto a bar stool, setting down a nearly empty glass.

“Don’t say it like that.“ A second woman, brunette with shoulder length hair, huffed as she climbed onto a stool beside her. The Doctor looked around to her friends, none of whom recognised the two women, with the exception of herself and Missy who pursed her lips with intrigue. Now there were two people she hadn't seen in quite some time.

“Like what?“ Helen laughed, twirling the straw of her drink between her fingers.

“Like you admire the woman…“ Liv answered, clearly not enjoying the conversation.

“You’re just jealous.“ Helen retorted playfully.

“Jealous? Of what? Don’t be ridiculous.“ Liv shot back a little too quickly.

“Then stop sulking!“ Helen grinned. “The Doctor is having fun, leave him to it. And let’s have some fun too! These cocktails are really good…“ She waved at the bar keep for another.

“And really strong, you sure you want another one.“ Liv couldn’t help but point out.

“Most definitely.“ Helen nodded full of enthusiasm and nearly fell off her stool. Perhaps she had had a little bit too much after all. Liv was quick to hold her up. “Thank you Liv, you’re the best you know that?“ Helen smiled happily and reached out to stroke her friend’s cheek.

“I try.“ Liv replied, blushing at the gesture and her friend pulled her forward into a tight hug.

“No really, you are…“ Helen held her tightly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and Liv didn’t know what to do with her hands. She nearly fell off her stool herself but she didn’t want to pull back either, so she wrapped her arms around Helen’s shoulders, glad she wouldn’t be able to see her blush. Helen was completely oblivious to her discomfort, she just carried on mumbling: “You’re so kind and clever and brave and… so pretty…“

“I think you’ve had enough to drink…“ Liv pulled away, momentarily worried for her friend’s state but Helen wouldn’t let her go. Instead she grabbed Liv’s head and kissed her.

“I had money on that, you know.“ Missy smirked as the Doctor just watched, delighted and confused in equal measures. How had she never picked up on this when they were travelling together?

“Oh God…“ Helen pulled away when she realised what she was doing. But only after thoroughly snogging her best friend’s face off. She blushed deeply, her intoxication seemingly gone in an instant as sobering reality hit her. Liv blinked overwhelmed still, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. “Sorry, I was just… getting carried away and…“ Helen stammered, letting go of her but this time it was Liv that wouldn’t let go.

“You can do it again… you know in the spirit of… or just because you want to…“ Liv bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I don’t know why I did that…“ Helen carried on stuttering until Liv’s words sunk in: “What?“

“Oh Helen… my beautiful, clueless friend…“ Liv shook her head and laughed.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing.“ Helen admitted, blushing scarlet.

“I do.“ Liv assured her more confidently and leaned in to kiss her again when Helen stopped her.

“Liv…“

“What?“ Liv’s heart sank, wondering if Helen had thought better of it but she realised her friend was stopped for another reason. She was looking past her and Liv noticed they had an audience.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.“ Missy gave a wave of her hand when she realised she had been spotted. Of course, she was the only one Helen Sinclair and Liv Chenka would recognise. “Wasn’t sure where we were, timelines and all!“

“You again!“ Helen exclaimed and Missy sighed. Why were the Doctor’s friends always so stuck up on the past? So what if she had kidnapped and nearly killed her?

“I was hoping we would bump into you again, now I can finally…“ Liv was about to go for Missy but the Doctor quickly intervened.

“No, no, no, none of that!“ She held Liv back and Missy chuckled.

“Come on, Doctor, if Miss Chenka wasn’t to play, that can be arranged.“ Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Missy! Timelines!“ The Doctor scolded. The time lines were already all messed up, without anyone losing their life before their time. Missy gave a shrug.

“Doctor?“ Liv echoed, looking at the blonde in front of her bewildered. She took a step back, accepting that maybe violence was not the right course of action right now.

“While I’m sure the Doctor is elated to see you two finally stopped doing that silly little I don’t know how she’s feeling about me - but what if she doesn’t like me - but she’s from the past - but she’s from the future - I can’t ruin our friendship dance of yours, she’d rather like to know where her wife is and you seem to know.“ Missy sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“The Doctor?“ Helen repeated incredulously.

“Wow…“ Was all Liv could manage staring at the blonde and Helen, gripped by a wave of jealousy, hit her arm:

“Liv!“

“Not to interrupt the happy reunion or whatever but I think your search is over, Doctor.“ Jack announced and everyone looked around to where he was pointing.

“She didn’t just invite you, did she…“ Missy chuckled as they watched River push through the crowd accompanied by no less than thirteen Doctors, all of them competing for her attention and affection.

“She invited all of us, didn’t she…“ The Doctor sighed, realising that the same message she had received would have popped up on every other Doctor’s psychic paper as well.

“Go on then, Doctor.“ Jack put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her along. “Because if you don’t go over there, I might.“ He smirked. “Professor Song!“ He called before the Doctor could protest. River looked over to them, grinning, as she recognised Jack.

“Captain.“ She smirked flirtily as she sauntered over, while the other Doctors shot Jack annoyed glances.

“Think this is who you were looking for.“ Jack gave the Doctor a shove forward and decided that for once, he should be the wing man instead of going for the prize himself.

“Hello River.“ The Doctor managed a half smile and her feelings were incredibly conflicting. She was thrilled to see her wife; who looked beautiful in a flowing dress with the sun dancing in her curls. She was jealous that the other Doctor’s got there before her. And most importantly, she was annoyed: How could she have been so irresponsible?! All of space and time could rip apart if they put a foot wrong!

“My my my, now that makes a change.“ River smirked as she only took a moment to realise who she was. She stepped closer, looking her up and down far more obviously would have been necessary. The Doctor blushed and decided to go on the offensive to get herself out of the awkward situation:

“You know you will have to make them forget!“ She pointed to all her other selves. “This could end so badly!“

“Timelines will do that. Relax, Sweetie. None of you will remember a thing after crossing your own time stream. I can’t believe I’ve had to have this conversation fourteen times.“ River sighed but the expression on her face indicated that she had no problem repeating herself with her spouses. “Now, less sulking, how about a kiss for your old wife, hm?“ She smirked, grabbed the Doctor by the collar of her coat. She pulled her in for a kiss that quickly muted any sort of protest.

Just then, a confetti cannon went off, dousing the group in a rainbow of colours.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.“ Missy grinned as the Doctor’s friends shot her accusing glances and she hid her sonic umbrella behind her back. “Anyway, I wonder if there are more versions of me about…“

The Doctor didn’t even notice. She was too occupied kissing her wife to the chorus of jealous calls from several of her past selves. She had missed her so much .

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Unseen Softness (12th Doctor X Wife!Reader)

Characters: 12th Doctor X Wife!Reader

Universe: Doctor Who

Warnings: None

FLUFF

Request: Actually that other request that anon made about reader getting used to having no affection from 12 sort of inspired a contrasting idea about 12 being totally soft for his timelord!wife!reader and she's the only one who can get past his angry, non-affectionate exterior which is great for her as it means she gets all the hugs from him. And forehead kisses? Pretty please? :))

This new face was rather sour. A bit cold at times. Humans before we confusing but now it seemed even harder to understand them and be sympathetic. They almost seemed to be annoying at times when they were being a bit stupid. Also now he didn’t like to be touched, and he especially didn’t like hugs. Clara wasn’t an exception to his, and he was almost certain no one was. That was until his wife called on him. 

Admittedly you two didn’t see each other as much as either of you would like, but you were in constant contact, and when you did get back together finally, it was hard for you two to be separated. The doctor had always hinted at the idea that one day you two could retire from the running and the adventures and finally settle down and focus on each other, which you always laughed at and said “We’re both too selfless to let the universe fall apart.” 

You called on the phone, and it was Clara who had picked it up, and the doctor wasn’t really paying attention until he realised that Clara was smiling and having a nice conversation to whoever the person was on the other side of the phone. He looked at her confused, trying to piece together who she was talking to. “Yeah, he’s scottish now…” Clara commented, noticing the look he was giving her. “He’s looking at me a little weird- he’s probably wondering whose calling.” She said across the phone again, pausing and waiting for whoever to answer, then her eyes going wide, and looking at the doctor. “You’re married?!” She asked the doctor, who’s expression quickly turned giddy and he snatched the phone from Clara. You two quickly arranged a meeting place and the doctor rushed the TARDIS there. 

The meeting spot was a familiar one- a small family owned Cafe in France that you came to meet at every few years. You’d already been waiting there when you called the TARDIS, and it wasn’t long until you heard the familiar warping outside, and smiled, and soon the door opened, the bell ringing above it as Clara and the Doctor walked in. You got up from your seat to greet them. Your husband’s face may have changed, but purely from looking at him, you knew it was him, and you didn’t hesitate to go and kiss him lovingly. The doctor’s hands found themselves on your cheeks like they always do, kissing you back, and when that kissed was finished, kissed your head. “I’ve missed you.” You smiled up at him. 

“You two are so cute together.” Clara interrupted, making you turn to her. “Sorry, did I ruin the moment?” 

“It’s alright. I’m Y/N, the doctor’s wife.” You introduced yourself. 

“Clara. It’s nice to meet you!” She shook your hand, but was pulled into a hug by you. Clara was surprised and it took a moment for her to hug you back, not being used to it. 

That had been a while ago, and you were yet to be separated from your doctor and Clara, having started to travel with them. Clara had gotten used to you being around, and actually loved having you around. You were fun, wise and you loved to tell stories. You were almost motherly to her- but she guessed that was to be expected since you were a timelord and you were god knows how old. What she hadn’t gotten used to however, was how attentive the doctor was to you. He still hated hugs, and was brash and rather rude to mostly everyone, except you. When it came to you, Clara saw parts of him that reminded her of the face before him. It didn’t make her feel weird or jealous in some way that you got his affection- in fact it was so sweet it gave her cavities. What really got to her were the soft head kisses he would give you, and the way you’d close your eyes and smile as he did it, everytime it happened she wanted to squeal. What made it especially cute was when you told her that no matter what- no matter what face, or how long it had been since you last saw each other, that action never faltered or changed. However, when she thought it couldn’t get any cuter, it did. 

The three of you had wound up in 1950’s America and after an adventure of finding an alien impostor and sending them back home, you’d convinced the doctor to stay another night in the hotel you’d hired, mostly because you could see Clara wanted to explore a bit more. She’d gone out and had fun, exploring the area and returned to the hotel as the sun had dropped, going up to her room but realising you two weren’t there. She asked a member of staff if they’d seen you, and the man had smiled and led her down to the dining hall of the hotel. 

Chairs were stacked on tables, the lights were mostly off in the room, making it dim, and the only audible sound in the room was the radio playing in the corner. Clara watched from outside, looking through the clear glass of the door at the sight; you and the doctor slow dancing. Your arms were around each other lovingly, the doctor petting your hair and you resting you head on his shoulder. Clara could see the doctor was saying something to you- maybe promises or remembering old memories, whatever it was it was clearly heart felt. He rested his head on top of yours, kissing it like how he always does. 

Part of Clara knew that when you two were forced to part ways again for whatever reason, it will be both heartbreaking for her, especially for you both since you both had done it a hundred times, and Clara knew she’d probably never get the opportunity to see you again… but she was thankful that she got to see the truly better half of the doctor, and got to see this version of the doctor at the happiest she’s ever seen him. You really were a special woman. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS:  @courtneychicken​  @graysonmalfoy​ @bellero​ @originalpottervengerlock​ @supernatural-pan​ @esoltis280​ @lena-stan-xavier​ @lady-of-lies​ @sebstanismylife​ @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980​ @cdwmtjb8​ @caswinchester2000​ @determinedpines​

[asarahworld-writes]

randomiser

insp.

“…randomiser?”  The Doctor grinned, watching Clara’s hand hovering over the randomiser.

“Randomiser,” she agreed, hand poised.  At the Doctor’s signal, she pulled the lever and whooped as the TARDIS took flight.

The Doctor gaped; his brows furrowed in confusion.  “What?”

Clara looked up.  “What?”  She followed his gaze, eyes landing on the same point, and her brow furrowed in turn. “Do you get unannounced visitors in flight often?”

The Doctor was still staring.

A woman, nearing middle-age and with fiery red hair, was standing in the middle of the TARDIS.

“What?”  He whispered.

“How the hell did I get here again?”  She half-whispered, half-shouted.

“But,” the Doctor started.

“I was having dinner.  Proper chips for the first time in months since the shop closed. Just got my order.  And now I’m back here,” she continued.

Clara looked from the woman to the Doctor, and back again.

“Is this why you pilot the TARDIS randomly yourself?”

“Where’s the Doctor?  I swear, just send me a bloody text and STOP!  SNATCHING! ME! OFF! THE! STREET!”

The Doctor was trying to say her name.  “Do- Do-, Donna?”

“You get that sulky skinny streak of nothing and tell him to communicate like a normal person.  He can’t be gallivanting around time and space and not know what a bloody mobile is.”  Donna looked at him and frowned.  “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

Clara looked at the woman.  “Hi.  Clara Oswald. Sometimes known as the Impossible Girl. This is the Doctor.  Only known as the Doctor.  How’d you get on the TARDIS?”

The ginger woman strode forward.  “Donna Noble.  Best temp in Chiswick.  I would assume it’s the same way he technically kidnapped me as the last time.”  Her eyes narrowed.  “Wait a minute.  You’re telling me that that’s the Doctor?”

“I’m guessing it’s been a while since you’ve seen him, then.”

“Well, yeah.  Last time he regenerated it was into a whole other version of himself.  There were two of him!  He grew out of a hand!  It was seriously the strangest thing I’d ever seen.”

“Donna,” the Doctor finally spoke.  “How do you know that?”

“How are you the Doctor?”

“I regenerated. Twice.”

“Well, looks like you’ve run out of things to say.  That was probably the most succinct I’ve ever heard you.”

“Donna, how do you know who I am?  You’re not supposed to remember!”

“We’re going to talk about that later,” Donna frowned.  “I begged you not to do that.  Oh well, I remember everything now.”

“How?”  The Doctor pressed.  “That knowledge should have burned your mind into nothing!”

“Well,” Donna looked at him, noticing the strained concern in his eyes.  “I stopped eating fish for a while and things started clearing up a bit. Thought it was a bit odd – they’re always telling you that fish helps the brain, but it worked.”

“You… stopped eating fish,” the Doctor said faintly.

“Yeah.”  Donna shrugged.  “So anyway, I stopped eating fish and I talked to Grandad – he’s still watching for the TARDIS in the sky, you know – and he said he saw the TARDIS over in Shoreditch.  So I got a temp job as a secretary at the school there and I never saw you, but I guess I probably did and just didn’t recognize you.  But then again, I was stuck in the office all day and if you were around, you were probably undercover with the psychic paper.”

“What year is it?”

“Eh?  What do you mean, what year is it?”

“Clara, tell Donna the date today.”

“October twentieth, twenty-fourteen.”

“I know the date, dumbo. Anyway, started looking for trouble again cos that’s how I found you again last time and here we are!”

Clara interjected.  “So, just to be clear, you know this woman from the last time she randomly appeared in the TARDIS and she’s not supposed to be able to remember you?”

“That pretty much sums it up, yes,” the Doctor said, still focused on Donna.  “You stopped eating fish and then remembered everything?”

“Yeah.”  Donna shrugged.  “I could feel the ship in my head, like some sort of homing beacon. Got any way to turn that off?  Although I suppose if we lose the TARDIS again, that might come in handy.  Never really liked that part of the day when we couldn’t find the TARDIS.”

“The TARDIS is in your head?”

“Yeah, it was weird at first not knowing what it was but when I saw the TARDIS that day, I knew.  She’d been trying to get my attention, I think. No fish, felt the TARDIS, found you. Isn’t this great?”

“Yeah,” the Doctor agreed absently, taking his screwdriver from his breast pocket.

“You are NOT bleeping me with that thing, thank you.”

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed, replacing it.  “It’s not as if the Racnoss are still around.  The Huon particles have long since left your body.  This is something else entirely.”

“The human brain is very elastic.  Maybe she just remembered on her own.”  The Doctor and Donna turned to look at Clara.  “I took a few psychology classes in uni before settling on English.”

“Well, you always did go on about something ‘drawing us together’.  Maybe whoever it was isn’t done with us yet.  So, where are we off to?  Or is the TARDIS still the principal driver?”

[honesthammie]

4th prompt part 2

The silence was appreciated as your mind wrapped up today's event. You had met your soulmate in a goddess of a woman. Everything you had discovered so far was perfect. You watched as she pulled a metal disk and metal stick from her pockets. The metal stick made a strange buzzing sound and glowed a faint orange at the tip as she hovered over the disk.

"What are you doing?" You asked after watching her in curiosity for a few moments. You would've let her continue as her face was quite the sight. Her eyes were sparkling with intent and her nose had the most adorable scrunch.

She stopped for a moment as you spoke as if thinking on what to say before continuing. "I'm scanning for any spider eggs in the building so we can take them with the other spiders to a planet of their own. A planet without civilisation but full to the brim with creatures they can eat. I think, the fam got them all. No, fam still doesn't seem right. The team does sound better!"

"A planet? What, are you some kind of alien?"

"Yes. Would that be a problem?" She asked. From the way her eyes sparkled, I believed her. Great, no wonder why she seemed so ethereal! So when I say, she's out of this world, it'd be a fact and not a flirtatious comment! For fuck sake, that's one of my best lines as well! Maybe I could use it when the time is right?

"Nope. After the discoveries of my life recently, that's actually the most believable thing. Please don't ask yet. However, those spider babies trust me. You aren't going to get them to listen without me. I spent at least a full 5 hours with them, they trust me more than you. Come on little Miss Sunshine, hop to it, the spiders won't wait forever." I spoke with confidence. I knew she knew, she needed me. That's why she followed me. "I'm (y/n) by the way"

"Great name! Love that name, was always one of my favourites. I've always fancied myself as a (y/n) but the faces never seem to fit it. I'm normally a John but I can't be now I'm a woman. Why don't you give me an alias for when I'm undercover?"

"Hmmm. I quite liked the name Alice and you certainly suit that name. Is there a name people call you when you aren't undercover. What do family call you?"

"Alice. I love that! I'm keeping Smith. Alice Smith. Perfect! Knew you'd be the one to help me. People tend to call me the Doctor. So do I for some reason. Wish I knew why."

This cute blonde alien was more mysterious the more we talked. She told me of how her ship goes in time as well as in space. She told me of the time of when she met Robin Hood with an older face and a companion named Clara. All this talk and I wasn't bothered once by it. I could listen and watch her all day as she talks about adventures she's been on. She puts all the theatrics on and waves her arms about with so much passion and her eyes show her emotions so clearly. But I also saw age. If she's older than she looks, just how old is she? Not that it bothers me, it's just, if she's like hundreds of years old, she's probably had other lovers and I don't know if plain old me can compete with that.

Sooner than we realised, we came towards a blue Police box. She clicked her fingers and waltzed right in. This must be her TARDIS. I walked inside with awe. The ship was beautiful inside. Like a gem hidden as an ore. The golden and blue lights perfectly reflected her personality.

"It's fucking massive Sunshine! Ya didn't warn me about walking into a football field! No wonder why thousands of spiders seemed no problem! Fucking hell!" I stated as my eyes scanned the room in front of me. Then I felt a little tug on my right trouser leg. I looked down and saw a little spider wanting my attention. I bent down and picked him up. He seemed happy to be held like that so I kept him in that position as I wondered towards the Doctor.

I had so many questions I wanted to know and I'm sure she has too. But now was not the time for that. We needed to get these spiders to their new home. I continued to watch the Doctor as she danced around something she called a console. She was pressing buttons and pulling levers and many more things until the ship made a strange wheezing noise and I was thrown off my feet. Thankfully I was caught by someone. I looked up and saw an oldish man.

"Hello Love! I can tell this your first time here. We all fell down when she first did that with us. You learn to find something to grab onto. I'm Graham by the way." Graham spoke gently but loudly over the noise of the ship. I couldn't help but giggle, my grandad used to call me Love too.

Then as quick as the ship started, it came to a gentle stop. I looked around and notice the same 2 people from earlier. The girl was smiling and laughing to something the boy mentioned. They must be old friends. I then noticed the Doctor walk towards the doors and open them just enough for her to check outside.

"Right (n/n). I'm calling you that as we are friends now. Go on, it's your first new planet and you care about these spiders more than we do so I think it's best if you check everything it perfect for them!" The Doctor spoke with excitement. She even clapped her hands for a moment, obviously not being able to control the surge of energy running through her.

I held the spider in my arms and the doors opened in front of me. I closed my eyes for a moment as the light blinded me temporarily. I could feel the warmth of a sun and the cool breeze the gently whipped past your face giving you the perfect cooling needed. The planet smelled sweet yet sour like Toxic waste sweets. I could hear many creatures making strange noises, some were doing a high pitched growl and some others were doing deep scream. Then there were nicer sounds like birds tweeting but in a lower key and something sounded like a piano, specifically an old ragtime piano.

I slowly opened my eyes and noticed the silver sky and its 4 suns in each direction. I noticed that the high pitched growl was from a small flying frog like creature and the deep scream was from a big rabbit- horse like creature that was just chewing the purple leaves off the metal looking trees. The bird like sound belonged to a small Robin like creature, but instead of a red chest it was a beautiful blue hue and it had silver eyes that sparkled just right. The Ragtime piano sound belonged to a dog-raccoon like creature that scampered away with its mouth full of the fallen berries that the rabbit-horse dropped from the leaves. The grass beneath was as black as ink and the pond to the right of me was a strange red colour.

"Well what do ya think? I personally think it's perfect but you seem to know these arachnids better than me so, I could be wrong, although, I'm not often" The Doctor spoke with eagerness. I noticed her looking at me as I took in the world around me. Why does this feel all too familiar to me? Why do I like the escapism of Earth? Why is this so, freeing?

I took a deep breath in. "Its perfect Doc. The spiders will love it here! They'll adapt pretty quickly I believe. The creatures are big enough to satisfy them. Although the sounds are a little off putting." I put the spider in my arms in the oddly cotton soft grass and watched as the thousands of others followed in its footsteps. Some carried the baby spiders and others carried the eggs. They had already found a cave to lay the eggs and started weaving some webs within 10 minutes.

Once I was happy with everything, I said my goodbyes and entered the strange ship once more. I could feel fresh tears sting my eyes like tiny hot needles. I get so attached so quickly and I noticed the string warm up and I checked on my soulmate, she was looking at me with an all too familiar look, the look of complete adoration. So the string tells me when her love for me evolves until we kiss? I mean, that's when it disappears for everyone else.

"This was great Sunshine! I had a ride of a lifetime, I really did. So I guess, you can drop me off home, I'm probably not wanted and I don't wanna ruin your team dynamic here."

"Why on Earth would you think that? I was actually wondering if you'd like to join us. Those spiders trusted you and having someone like you would really make the adventures more thrilling. Besides, I really like you and there's something special about you and I can't place my finger on it. I don't like not knowing things. If I drop these off home for a bit, would you mind if I ran some tests on you?"

"Really? Sure. I don't mind. I actually wanna know aswell. You see, I know what's special but I don't want to tell you in front of the others, its a bit embarrassing." I asked whilst blushing. She nodded her head and set the TARDIS coordinates to Sheffield. The Doctor promised she'd be back in a week and set the TARDIS to float in our solar system whilst she got to work on me.

We walked into what I can assume is some sort of med Bay. The walk had conversations about the last planet and how we thought the spiders would adjust. Eventually she sat me down on a white bed.

"So, you said you knew why you were special. I don't like cliffhangers so I'll give you a custard cream if you tell me." She said as she got a paper document and waited for me to speak.

"I don't know how or why but have you ever heard of the red string of fate story?" I asked, wondering how to word this without sounding weird. She nodded her head in understanding. "Well, when I turned 16, I could see everyone's red strings. The world was covered in red. I was confused at first until I read that story."

"Hmm. That is interesting because all stories have some truth to them. Some are exaggerated and some are exactly as said. Well that story is a good example of that. Thousands of years ago, there were 2 species of human, homo sapiens and homo spectrians. Spectrians were low on numbers in population as they'd spend almost all their life playing match maker. You'd know Spectrians as Cupids. However when battles and wars happened, Cupids were out of a job as everyone had to focus on the country and not themselves. This is where arranged marriages started happening and Cupids were becoming depressed. Eventually the Cupids decided to blend in with the humans and became virtually extinct. You might be the only Cupid left in the universe, other than Valentine himself." She explained it so well.

"Can Cupids see their own string?" I asked. She paused for a moment. Her eyes flickered between heartbroken and hopeful. I felt the string flicker between cold and toasty warm just like her eyes.

"No. Cupids weren't supposed to have soulmates. But I guess you are technically half human so maybe that makes sense. Do you know who your soulmate is?"

"She's amazing. She's like a Goddess. When I first saw her I immediately thought, She's too fucking perfect for someone like me. She incredibly smart too but, can be oblivious. I mean, I only met her a few hours ago and I'm fucking smitten with her. She reminds me of sunshines and rainbows. I'm just waiting for her to make a move." I told her. She looked at me for a moment, processing this new information. She smirked for a moment once she figured it out.

"Well my soulmate had me wrapped around her finger the second she jumped in front of a spider to save her life. A bold move like that normally makes me mad but, she did it so well. I haven't known her long but I can see me being by her side forever, travelling the stars. She reminds me of those stars actually. The way she sparkles in the light. I love you (y/n) with both of my hearts." She spoke softly as we slowly leaned in. When she finished, she planted her soft lips on mine and the red string was gone. Not that I noticed until an hour later when we picked the team up and held hands to announce our relationship.

Maybe dating a sunshine is exactly who I needed.

[princesses-and-bitchcraft]

I don’t have anything for Jenny Calendar day because like. Both deadlines and plans alike have absolutely no effect on me. But I bring to the table a scene from a ridiculous crossover I’ve been working on, where Jenny gets to bully the Doctor, so that’s gotta be..... something, right? Somehow this is over a thousand words just on it’s own so I guess it’s not the worst thing I could deliver.

“Does this look like a parking lot to you? Watch where you’re leaving that thing!”

“Right. And you would be-”

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easily, Doctor. I’m going to need to know what you’re doing here first. Is something big about to happen?”

“Sorry but... have we met?”

“Oh! No. But I’ve heard of you, Doctor, you’re famous in certain parts of the Internet. Rupert will be so mad when I tell him I actually met you! Well, let’s go! I’m Jenny, technopagan, and I know my way around the local vampire population. What can I help you with tonight?”

The Doctor shook his head at the spitfire in front of him. “Oh no,” he muttered, “not this again.” He didn’t come halfway across the world to deal with starstruck fans. Although. “Wait a minute, did you say ‘local vampires’?”

“I assumed that’s what you were here for? Don’t tell me you’re on holiday!”

“Trust me when I say this would not be my preferred vacationing spot. There’s certainly something weird going on here that I’m looking into, but vampires? Come on, be serious!”

“So you’re an alien who doesn’t believe in vampires? They’re everywhere around here! You don’t think I’m being serious, just follow me!” She walked off into the nearby graveyard, pausing at the gate to make sure he was following. “It should be about time for- shit!” She stopped abruptly as she saw the vampire in front of them, already biting down for a meal. She reached into her jacket for a stake and took another step forward, but the Doctor grabbed her by the arm, holding her back.

“Wait! Look.” They watched as the victim’s skin seemed to almost deflate and crumple inward. “Is this what normally happens?” he asked, Jenny immediately shaking her head. They watched as a green creature expanded out of the human skin that fell to puddle around its feet.

“Oh, that’s new,” Jenny commented before being abruptly shushed by the Doctor. The poor vampire looked about as confused as she felt, as its victim seemed rapidly to be becoming the aggressor. The creature brought its face down towards the vampire’s and breathed out a stream of gas. When that seemed to have no effect, the creature went in with a more physical approach, raking its claws across the vampire’s chest. Jenny and the Doctor both stood in place, observing something neither had been expecting to see and not yet sure how to proceed. That is, until the Doctor’s phone suddenly started ringing. Jenny turned to look at him as he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Not now, Clara,” he muttered in exasperation as he silenced the phone. Then he turned his attention back to creature and saw that it had also turned its attention on them. “Run!” he shouted, taking Jenny by the arm again and making for the TARDIS. He shoved her awkwardly inside and pulled the doors closed behind them.

Once they were inside, Jenny didn’t waste a second. “What was that?” she demanded. “I’ve never seen a demon-”

“Alien,” the Doctor corrected. “Slitheen, actually. Haven’t run into them in a while, what are they doing here? Oh, but that still wouldn’t explain the readings. What are they after?” There was a banging at the door, but the Doctor ignored it. Instead, he was pacing around the console erratically, poking at this instrument or glancing at that other one. “What am I missing here? Vampires? Obviously the Slitheen aren’t after vampires.”

The banging outside became more insistent. “Doctor,” Jenny started, trying to reel him back to the present moment. He blew her off. The banging continued. She inserted herself between him and the nearest display, getting right into his face. “Doctor! Shouldn’t we be doing something about them? Something immediate?” She may not have been the strongest of fighters, but she wasn’t about to just sit around in here waiting.

“Right, let’s see what’s going on out there.” The Doctor pulled another monitor towards them, this one showing the situation directly outside the door where not one but three of the Slitheen were banging on the doors. “Okay, not great. Where are they coming from?” He turned back to Jenny. “So you said you haven’t seen them around before?”

“I’ve seen some messed up stuff in this town, but never anything like that. Normally I’d check online but you seem like you’ve got experience. Slitheen, was it?”

“Slitheen, yes. Very dangerous, and they tend to show up in groups to infiltrate their target area. I have no way of knowing how many more there are in town.” He paused. “Hold on, check online? What, do you think there’s just handy alien directories on the Internet, waiting for you?”

“And why not? There are for demons, if you know where to look. So, are we going to kill them or-?”

The banging had stopped, but at that point it was replaced with a rattling, and a sensation almost like an earthquake. A look at the screen showed their would-be assailants seemingly trying to knock over the ship. As unlikely an outcome as that may have been, it was very disquieting. “I’d really prefer to find out what it is they’re after, but we’re in a rather unfavourable position right now. Hold on to something Jenny, we’re going into the vortex!” He hit a couple of buttons, pulled a lever, and the rattling immediately got worse. Jenny managed to grab onto something before the turbulence knocked her to the ground, and even the Doctor seemed at risk of losing his footing from the ship’s rough motion. He took another look at the display that showed outside the doors and shook his head. There were still two of the Slitheen visible, hanging on for dear life. “We’re in for a rough ride! She’s going to try and shake them off!” Jenny braced herself.

The TARDIS eventually stabilized again and Jenny started to relax. “Are we rid of them?”

“Well, we’re rid of those ones. They won’t survive out there.” He patted the ship’s console proudly. “Good job!” Jenny shook her head at that. Men and their cars, apparently a universal constant.

“So where’ve you brought us, outer space? What about to Sunnydale?”

“We’re not really anywhere right now. Sort of an in-between place, actually. As for your town, it’s probably in for a bit of a shock about now. The Slitheen we left behind, and who knows however many of its family along with it, probably know by now that those two are dead and they aren’t going to be happy about it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to return a phone call. Find out what Clara’s learned, and warn her about the Slitheen.”

“What do you mean, ‘if you’ll excuse me’? You can’t make a phone call here! Bring us back!”

“Of course I can.” He pulled out a cell phone. “Special phone, calls anywhere in the universe. So if you don’t mind-”

“I do mind. Just because you have a phone doesn’t mean you can make a call, you know. You can’t possibly have cell service if we’re ‘not really anywhere’! How can you have a ship like this but have a worse understanding of cell phones than my husband?”

The Doctor made a point of ignoring Jenny’s withering glare as he dialed Clara’s number and waited. He silently put the phone back in his pocket and turned sheepishly back towards the TARDIS controls when Clara didn’t answer.

“Well?” Jenny asked, arms crossed. “How’s Clara?” There was a hint of mockery to her voice.

The Doctor briefly considered ignoring the question, but thought better of it. “She must be busy,” he finally mumbled.

“I told you, you crazy old man!”

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Everyone needs a distraction sometimes, so open the gates of soliloquy, step out, stare up at the starry skies and tell me: what does Doctor Who mean to you ?

I quite literally did stare up at the stars for a little bit today so I could answer this XD  What does Doctor Who mean to me....the short answer, the best one, the most poetic one: the evergrowing expanse of fantasies, of kindness, and of love. Consider that to be the core idea, the thesis statement, to my soliloquy though, since you asked for one. When I was a little girl one of the first memories I have is of being in my grandparents house and seeing Rose and 10 on TV, I remember being a little obsessed with those two actually because of the adoring way he looked at her, and because of how powerful I thought Rose was. She’s far from my favourite companion now but her and 10 hold a special place in my heart as the first faces I remember watching on TV. When I got a bit older, maybe 7? I saw a bit of the Christmas Invasion, the whole time I was waiting for Rose to appear but then the Raknos spider lady scared me and I never finished it, I couldn’t sleep for weeks and my mum banned me from ever watching the show (I wasn’t really allowed to watch it in the first place). I was quite alright with that, but I eventually got round to watching the show again. This time, an episode from Martha’s era, New New York the rerun, and I loved it, saw The Eleventh Hour as well and I loved that, but I was still too frightened of any monsters there were so I avoided the show. It wasn’t until 2013, the anniversary episode, that I finally properly sat down and fell in love with the show. What made me fall in love with it, what did it mean to me? As I said, the fantasy, the kindness, and the love held in it. I think I fell in love with it way back when I first saw it, I just needed some time to grow into it. Whatever it was that interested me all those years ago, that dormant fascination I had, awoke the second I saw Clara and 11 onscreen and their unbeatable chemistry (or so I thought at the time). Not only the chemistry between them, the best friends, the Impossible Girl and the Impossible Doctor, but the sheer....ethereality and at times ridicule of the story, the perfect blend of emotional, and humorous. You’re giggling over 10 and 11 bantering and messing with War, then you’re depressed because “how many children were on Gallifrey that day?”. You’re impressed and empowered (I was at least) by Clara’s confidence, her courage even when in grave danger, her dry wit towards the boys as they “show off” and then deeply touched at those big brown eyes and the sorrowful compassion she holds in them, as she tells the Doctor, reminds him, of the standard he holds himself to. “You told me what your name meant once”. The moment I realised that the Doctor was a girl as well, and she was a Doctor that day, as she always has been. Everyone has one Doctor that is theirs and while I would definitely name 12 as my Doctor, I think Clara came first. She was the reason I kept watching after 11 became 12, because of course I was deeply saddened by that, but in time, came around again because of Clara, and stayed for...Whouffaldi.  Whouffaldi does have the greatest claim on my love for Doctor Who because they, as a story, embody everything I love about the show. The extreme kindness that the Doctor is, and should be, the love that is held in every act he commits for the universe. There’s losses, of course, but there’s this unbound idealism to their time in the TARDIS together. “If you have 2 choices and you don’t like either of them, make a 3rd choice” - a concept I think that is held throughout the entirety of Clara’s run, the standard she holds him to, but it’s never shown quite as blatantly as the both of them standing at the end of the universe, and all she needs to do is clasp his hand in hers, and ask him to stop. The fantasy aspect is not only the various and illuminating worlds they travel to, the dangers they face and tackle (if it was, then well apparently London is a fantasy since one of my favourite 2 parters is the Zygon Invasion/Zygon Inversion, for the beautiful and heart wrenching analogy for war that plays like a faint symphony in the

background right until the climax where it rises to an unforgettable crescendo) but the way they tackle it, the hope at the heart of every adventure. Whouffaldi is a romantic fantasy, a completely equal and loving relationship, the woman uplifted as far as she is to growing into his true equal as no other has, and in some ways better because of the power of compassion she holds and holds him to, however the fantasy element of the show is just the sheer idea of....the everyday ordinary person getting to run off into space, and do the most daring things, finding the bravery in themselves that they never knew they had, and equally, finding the extreme capacity for human kindness that they hold in their hearts. There’s a great deal of difference between RTD and Moffat era companions, with the most distinct one being that Moffat companions more overtly teach the Doctor of their humanity and this is conveyed through Moffat’s brilliant framing of the everyday as the ethereal, but at its core it is always this mad and entrancing alien who is made his best by the humans he love, by his Companions. Companions, such an archaic term don’t you think, for a friend? The show could easily call them his friends, they are, but they choose to stick with Companion in canon as well as out of it. And one could argue it’s due to the legacy of the show, but I prefer to think of the implications narratively, it’s a romanticism, there’s a connotation of a deep bond to the title of Companion. They keep him company, they are his comfort, they ground him as nothing else does, these “mayflies living for a day”. Companion is the one word summary, the one word answer, to this question, because the strength and weight of the stories are given by the companion, because we see it all anew with every new soul who enters those big blue doors, we are risen to courage and kindness with each new character who rises under each adventure. Whether it’s the Girl In The Shop and the Last Of The Time Lords, the Girl Who Waited and her Raggedy Man, The Impossible Girl and her Daft Old Man, whether it’s only to cross paths for a day or to be bound together til the end of time (or as can be the case with this very topsy turvey show, both), whether platonic or romantic, as caretaker, imaginary friend, lover, husband or teacher, the unrelenting power and commonality to every adventure, every story, is the Companion, is us, living the fantasy of fantasies. The dream of the impossible, of being ordinary and daring to run through space and time being as brave and kind as possible, seeing all the wonders over and over again, never the same because nothing is ever the same, and doing the best they can to make some kind of difference in the universe, without even realising they’re doing it, finding that ordinary is a special sort of extraordinary. If the Doctor offers the whole universe, within those doors, the Companion offers their soul in the humanity they teach him, in the moment they love the Doctor and take his hand, and their face is “seared into [his] hearts”. The universe and the soul.  The exact fantasy that a lonely little girl who was afraid of her own shadow needed. “Never be cruel, never be cowardly, and if you are, always make amends.”

[writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure]

Gone || Twelfth Doctor x Reader

A/N: Based on a request by anon: ‘12th doctor & reader sort of a platonic hurt/comfort type of thing??’

I had to relive Season 9 Episode 11 for this so I hope you’re happy with this fic anon - tears were shed while getting inspiration. Also because this is my first time writing anything Doctor Who, forgive me if it’s not as good as it could be. Ngl my eyes did get a bit watery but I was also very tired when writing this so mixed reviews.

Main Masterlist

Doctor Who Masterlist

You hummed to yourself as you checked your phone whilst leaning against your kitchen counter as you waited for your kettle to boil. As it was currently a Wednesday afternoon, it was Clara’s turn to travel with the Doctor - you travelled with him on Fridays. You worked a normal job the rest of the week, and considering the Doctor could travel in time, you technically never missed Fridays anyway, and if you ever were a few minutes late, you could always blame it on the traffic. 

When you first started travelling with the Doctor your previous job didn’t have too much of a problem with you being an hour late, or sometimes more, as long as you made the hours up later. But this new job, which you actually really enjoyed, was far more strict on shift times, so you’d had to have several stern talks with the Doctor about his navigation through time so that you wouldn’t get fired. Even then, you’d sometimes walk into work after several warnings and had actually been fired, but you’d just walked back out, hopped back in the TARDIS and made the Doctor arrive at the correct time as to avoid getting fired again. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You’d been the Doctor’s companion since his tenth regeneration; you’d been good friends with Donna and had gotten yourself in a bit of a sticky situation - basically you’d been caught in the middle of an alien invasion, and Donna had been coming up with all these amazing stories of places she’d travelled to, so you spammed her phone with texts and calls until she replied and saved your ass. Since then, the Doctor had allowed you to come on adventures with him, even after Donna had lost all memories of the Doctor and the times you’d spent together.

When Amy and Rory had gone, you’d stayed with the Doctor until he met Clara, and then you arranged a schedule with the two of them. It had become very crowded with you, Amy and Rory travelling with the Doctor, and even though you and Clara both travelled together some days, you needed some time to yourself and needed to get a real job instead of ignoring reality by travelling through time around the universe. Also, you needed a slight mental health break - losing Donna, Amy and Rory had really taken a toll, as even though you’d lost family members, it was a different story when death was the result of alien life-forms and your friends had died right in front of you with no chance of truly telling them how much they meant to you, and the fact that one of your closest friends had lost any memory of some of the best moments the two of you had shared together, and if you ever spoke of them to her, she’d burn up and die.

You always liked Clara - she was clever and level-headed, which was rarely found when you travelled alone with the Doctor. He tended to be extremely unpredictable with his decisions, and even though you’d known him for a while, his brain would always outpace yours when it came to piecing together the answer to whatever mystery you were solving, so it was nice to have another human to travel with. The two of you also got along extremely well, and Clara was always eager to hear about your previous adventures with the Doctor, and you were always happy to tell stories - but it was always painful to reminisce on memories with your old companions.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ‘click’ of your kettle snapped you out of your memories, and you absentmindedly turned to fill up your mug with hot water - you’d already put the teabag in - and finished making your tea, heading back to your position on your sofa. You had just sat down, shifting back into the dent you'd made in the cushions from how often you sat there, and had taken one sip of your tea before you were rudely interrupted. If it had been anything or anyone else, you would have been far more annoyed, but as the familiar, comforting sound of the TARDIS flooded your home, you couldn't help but allow a smile to grace your face.

But that’s odd, you thought to yourself as you stood up. You were sure that it was Clara’s day for an adventure, and the Doctor would normally visit you in the evening after your shift was over (it was currently about 3pm and your boss had let you all out early after a water-pipe burst) and have a cup of tea and tell you what he’d done with Clara that day. He’d probably got the hours mixed up or something, you mused as you headed to where the sound was coming from, as it was hours too early for him to swing by.

You followed the sound to your bedroom, and sure enough, there stood the TARDIS. As you closed the door behind you, the familiar sound stopped, signalling that it had finally materialised. Your smile widened as the door opened, and you bounced excitedly on the balls of your feet as you waited to see the Doctor and Clara, and to hear about whatever crazy adventure they’d had today.

But your smile dropped slightly when the Doctor finally came into view. 

“Doctor?” You asked, moving closer to him as your eyes roved over his face. Something was wrong. Really wrong. “Are you okay?” You peered around him, trying to look into the TARDIS. “Where’s Clara? Did you drop her off at home already?” The Doctor finally seemed to regain a sense of where he was and who he was talking to, and collected himself together.

“Clara’s gone.” The Doctor’s voice hissed into a low rasp, that you had come to associate with the most dire of situations. 

“Gone where?” You asked slowly, even though you already knew the answer. You could feel your heart start to beat faster, and your vision began to grow blurry as the beginnings of tears gathered in your eyes. “Gone where, Doctor?”

“She’s dead.” He answered simply, his voice breaking on the last word, his eyes growing glassy with unshed tears. “She’s gone. And I can’t bring her back.” 

“No.” You breathed, feeling as though something sharp had been driven into you; as if every breath hurt. Your chest hurt; it was as if you could physically feel your heart breaking apart just a little more. “Doctor please, tell me you’re lying - she isn’t gone; we can just go back and get her, right? We can go back into last week and see her again, and stop whatever happened from happening.” You begged, hearing your voice grow louder as the tears that had been building up finally started to fall. 

The Doctor only watched you, with the same tired look on his face, his eyes shining with his own unshed tears. “Please Doctor. Not again. Not another one, please, I can’t keep doing this.” The tears were starting to fall in earnest now, with no sign of stopping, as you drew in deep, painful breaths. “Why Clara?” You choked out, rubbing furiously at your face to get rid of the tears.

Not Clara. Who was now just another name added to the long list of the Doctor’s companions. Clara, who had done so much for the universe, and was now gone in an instant, and who had left her life behind for a taste of adventure. And nobody left in her life would ever really know what happened.

“You think that I want to keep doing this?” The Doctor grasped your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “It’s my duty to keep moving forwards and to keep helping people. Clara-” his voice broke and he looked away, his grip tightening, and he shut his eyes tightly as he tried to compose himself. “Clara knew what she was doing, in the end. She wanted to help people, and she did. She helped so many people. But I couldn’t help her.” The two of you stared at each other, both of you crying silently, and you occasionally wiping your tears away. 

“You did help her, Doctor.” You smiled sadly at him, finally reaching up and brushing his tears away with your thumb, stepping close enough that his hands were just comfortably resting on your shoulders. “You helped her see the whole universe, and we all travelled through time. You helped open her eyes to so many wonderful things, and helped her learn so many valuable lessons along the way.” You sniffed, swallowing thickly. “And I know she helped you, too.” 

He said nothing, but simply gazed at you, a mixture of a sadness than ran deeper than words could express, and wonder showing on his face. You pulled him in for a gentle hug, leaving him room to back out if he wanted to. You knew he wasn’t much of a hugger in this body. For a moment he was still, then he seemed to crumple in your arms, his body shaking from the force of his sobs as he clutched you to him, seemingly trying to ground himself to the last shreds of his reality. All you could do was hold him tightly, running your hands gently through those soft, silver curls like you’d always wanted to. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime of intermittent crying, you broke away, and pulled down the long sleeves of your top so that you could reach up to wipe away the Doctor’s tears once more.

“Come on.” You whispered, slipping your fingers through his and tugging him towards you kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea. That always makes everything seem a little better.” You smiled weakly at him, and he followed obediently. 

As you started up the kettle again, you felt him rest a hand on the small of your back - a comforting gesture for the both of you; it felt like too much distance was between you otherwise. Once you had poured away your cup of cold tea, you turned to face him, and his hand slipped to rest comfortably on your waist.

“I feel like this is an unnecessary question to ask, Doctor.” You murmured, running your hands over the lapels of his jacket. “But why did you come here? I mean, there are thousands of moments in time or people that might have...comforted you better than I have.” 

“Clara told me that I might be on my own for a while.” He replied, voice sounding slightly thick. “She predicted that I’d go off and...I don’t know, destroy a planet or something.” He suddenly smiled down at you - a real smile, not as big as it should be, but one that made the skin around his eyes crinkle, which in turn made you feel warm and slightly fuzzy inside. “I didn’t even set the TARDIS to come here. I think she just knew that I wouldn’t be alone with you.” 

You smiled widely at him, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness amidst the sadness that hung over the both of you. “You’re always welcome here, Doctor.” You said warmly. “And I’m flattered that the TARDIS thinks so highly of me.” The two of you basked in the warm atmosphere until your kettle signified that it was time to make tea. “Now, if you’re going to stay here, I’m going to need you to grab some teabags. They’re in that cupboard over there.”

[thelittlesttimelord]

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 4

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 4 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 4/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

[A/N - I really love this chapter.]

“It is our intent to leave. If it is your intent to stop us, perhaps we should get down to business,” Vastra said and they raised their weapons.

Elise, Jenny, Strax, and Vastra went to work slicing at the robots, but they just kept coming.

It was strange to see Elise fighting, but Clara had no idea what had happened on Trenzalore.

“How many do you estimate, my dear?” Vastra asked Jenny.

“More than upstairs. About twenty, thirty?”

“The ones upstairs were mere decoys. These are battle ready. I anticipate a challenge.”

Strax laughed as he mowed down the robots. “Don't worry, my boy, we shall die in glory!”

“Okay. Good-o!” Clara said.

“Why can't you stay dead, coward?”

The robots kept getting back up.

They grabbed Vastra’s arms and forced the sword from her grip. “Jenny!”

“Hold your breath. They're stupid. Everybody hold their breath,” Clara told them. They did as Clara said.

The robots paused and then lowered their weapons.

Clara picked up the Doctor’s screwdriver and crawled through the robots to the door. She tried sonicing it, but it wouldn’t work.

Strax was about to fire his weapon when he passed out.

“Stop!” Vastra yelled.

Everyone started breathing again.

Just as the robot were about to run them through with their swords, they stopped. They doubled over, deactivating as Clara and Jenny fainted.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They arrived back at Madame Vastra’s, but the Doctor was nowhere to be found.

Clara walked up to where the TARDIS had been.

“I fear we have missed him,” Vastra said.

“He’ll be back,” Elise reassured Clara.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know him.” Elise turned and went inside to get changed. As she was lacing up her boots, she heard the time-rotor. She sprinted down the steps.

“Elise!” Vastra called.

“Yes?”

The lizard woman smiled. “When you find him, the one you’re looking for, please come by for a visit. I’d love to meet him.”

Elise nodded and ran outside with Clara.

The TARDIS had cleaned herself up and given herself a new paint-job.

Elise couldn’t wait to see the inside.

Clara and Elise entered the TARDIS.

“You've redecorated,” Clara said.

There were now stairs leading up to an upper platform that went all around the perimeter. There was a chalkboard and bookcases.

The Doctor sat in a leather armchair. “Yes.”

“I don't like it.”

“I love it,” Elise breathed, looking all around her.

There was a twitch at the corner of the Doctor’s mouth. No matter what body, he loved seeing Elise happy. “Not completely entirely convinced myself. I think there should be more round things on the walls. I used to have lots of round things. I wonder where I put them?”

He descended the stairs. “I'm the Doctor. I've lived for over two thousand years, and not all of them were good. I've made many mistakes, and it's about time that I did something about that. Clara, I'm not your boyfriend.”

“I never thought you were,” Clara told him.

“I never said it was your mistake.” He put the TARDIS in flight. “What do you think?” he asked.

He threw back his jacket, exposing the red lining. He was wearing rather tight pants and chunky Doc Marten shoes that suspiciously looked like the male version of a pair that Elise herself owned. Other that the red lining and the white shirt, he was dressed all in black. Apparently another trait he’d picked up from his daughter.

“Who put that advert in the paper?” Clara asked, ignoring his question.

“Who gave you my number? A long time ago, remember? You were given the number of a computer helpline, and you ended up phoning the TARDIS. Who gave you that number?”

“The woman. The woman in the shop.”

“Then there's a woman out there who's very keen that we stay together.”

The TARDIS landed smoothly.

“How do you feel on the subject?” the Doctor asked.

“Am I home?”

“If you want to be.”

“I'm sorry. I'm…I'm so…so sorry. But I don't think I know who you are any more.” Her cellphone started ringing.

“You'd better get that. It might be your boyfriend,” the Doctor told her.

“Shut up. I don't have a boyfriend.” Clara went outside to answer the call.

Elise noticed a glint in her father’s eye.

“Elise!” Clara called, “I…uh…I need you to come out here.”

Elise looked at her father and he nodded.

“Go on.”

She left the TARDIS and Clara handed her the phone. “Hello?”

“Ellie.” The voice nearly sent Elise to her knees.

“Dad?”

She heard him sigh on the other end. “My Ellie. My clever, brave girl. I need you to be brave now.”

“But…”

“Promise me. Promise me you’ll help him.”

Elise sniffled. “I promise.”

“I love you Elise. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I love you too, Doctor.”

“Do you remember what I said to you? The very last thing I said to you?”

“You and me, no matter what.”

“No matter what. One more thing. When the time comes and you meet him…”

“Who?”

“The one River told you about. The one you’re meant to be with. Just know that I approve and I just want to see you happy. Goodbye Elise.”

“Bye daddy.”

The Doctor came out of the TARDIS. “Who was it? Was it the Doctor?” he asked.

Clara sniffled. “Yes.”

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“He asked you a question. Will you help me?”

“You shouldn't have been listening.”

“I wasn't. I didn't need to. That was me talking.”

The Doctor scoffed. “You can't see me, can you? You look at me, and you can't see me. Have you any idea what that's like? I'm not on the phone, I'm right here, standing in front of you. Please, just, just see me.”

Clara started to walk forward, but Elise stopped her.

Elise approached him, staring up into his now piercing blue eyes. “You and me, no matter what,” she told him.

He offered her a small smile. Something about that smile was familiar to her. “No matter what.”

She grabbed his face and pressed her forehead to his. Something she hadn’t done since she was a child. She could look at him and still see the green eyed, bow-tie wearing Doctor and the Doctor who saved her. So she showed him.

The Doctor reversed the connection and showed her herself as a child. The scared brunette with the big blue eyes.

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck and he froze.

“I…I don’t think I’m a hugging person now,” he said.

“And I really don’t care,” Elise told him.

“Whatever you say.”

Elise stepped back and Clara walked up to them.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” the Doctor asked.

“Phoning. This isn't my home, by the way.”

“Sorry. I'm sorry about that. I missed.”

“Where are we?”

“Glasgow, I think.”

“Ah. You two will fit right in then. Scottish.”

“Right. Shall we, er. Do you want to go and get some coffee, or chips, or something? Or chips and coffee?”

Clara and Elise laughed.

“Coffee. Coffee would be great. You're buying,” Clara told him.

“I don't have any money.”

“You're fetching, then.”

“I'm not sure that I'm the fetching sort.”

“I’m not sure you get a vote.”

[lizzy-bennet]

May These Memories Lead Us Home Can be read as a stand-alone or as a sequel to The Symbolism of Owls Fandom: Doctor Who Pairing: Whouffaldi Length: 3,700 words Rating: G   Also on Ao3

Once, he heard a story from a weathered old woman under some golden alien sky, that the things you love always find a way back to you in the end. And it is only a fairy tale, a shot in the dark, one odd in a billion.

And yet he hopes.

A post-Hell Bent AU.

Clara Oswald is lying dead on Trap Street, and Clara Oswald is alive, somewhere out there, living in the space between heartbeats. There are so many places in the world she could possibly be, but her flat isn’t bound to be one of them, and yet the Doctor finds himself there anyway.

And he doesn’t know why.

For a moment he just stands there, right in the middle of her living room, his black boots sinking into the beige carpet, feeling at a loss for why his unconscious muscle memory would land the TARDIS there.

And then he remembers:

It’s Wednesday.

The two-word thought is something like a sucker punch, or like being sucked into space with no suit on. It is mind-reeling and breath-stealing, and it shatters him, swallows him, and around him, the room spins as the realization circles around and around in his mind to rhythm of his heartbeats.

It’s Wednesday. It’s Wednesday. It’s Wednesday.

”Of course,” he says, and he sighs, runs a hand over his face and closes his eyes. “Stupid, stupid old Doctor.”

Where else in the universe could he possibly end up? Wednesdays were Clara’s days, and old habits were hard to break. He cannot remember the color of her hair or the cadence of her voice, but he remembers other things, like an Ice Warrior on a submarine and (apparently) the address of her flat and the fact that he must’ve loved her very, very much.

Which is why he stays in her flat that she’ll never come back to, and tries to reconstruct an image of the girl he once knew.

He starts with what’s in front of him, his eyes scanning shelf after shelf along her living room wall, trying to learn what he can about one Miss Clara Oswald. She was ridiculously short, he decides, from the placement of the items on her shelves. Her head couldn’t have come up much past the slope of his shoulders. But she was obviously well-read, judging by the weathered pages and worn spines on her myriad of books. And, he remembers significantly, as his eyes land on a bright white ceramic figurine, she had collected owls.

He stares at the ceramic, and a memory niggles somewhere in a dark corner of his mind of the day she brought that first owl knickknack home. The memory is fuzzy, all sort of soft and hazy, and he feels like he’s a sailor on a ship in a storm-swept sea, trying to see a lighthouse’s beacon through clouds of fog. But the fog is too thick, the waves too high, and he can’t remember exactly what she’d told him or what he’d said back.

But he knows the memory is important to him, somehow. And he thinks that maybe it was important to the both of them.

And maybe that’s enough for the plan he’s forming in his mind.

Once, he heard a story, from a weathered old woman under some golden alien sky, that the things you love always find a way back to you in the end. And it is a fairy tale, a shot in the dark, just a nearly nonsensical spark of hope.

Hope, he knows, can be the worst thing.

But, but, but:

Hope can also be the best thing.

And the thing about it is, it’s impossible to resist. So he raises his sonic screwdriver and points it at the owl, letting a glowing blue light wash over the white, putting a tracking imprint on it. The sonic hums, locking onto her leftover memories and fingerprints, and should Clara ever (anywhere, in all of time and space, just by chance) find and hold her owl again, the sonic will glow red and lead him to her.

So he finishes getting a tracking lock on the ceramic owl, puts it back on the shelf...

...and he hopes.

#

Somewhere out there, Clara Oswald is lying lifeless on Trap Street.

But right now, Clara Oswald (one-hundred-and-twelve and the pilot of her very own TARDIS) is also in a shop on the Embarcadero in mid-century San Francisco.

The idea that her body is somewhere out there, lying beneath a cold tombstone should probably bother her, she thinks, but it doesn’t. Not really. She’d already jumped into the Doctor’s time stream, after all, and has long since come to terms with the idea that the universe is filled with the many graves of Clara Oswald.

All that matters is that, right at this very moment, this version of herself isn't in one yet.

Which is why she’s enjoying herself now, browsing a little, kitschy shop in nineteen-fifty-nine, enjoying the quiet break.

(She’s just been busy saving an entire species of luminous fish in thirty-thirty-five and needs a relaxing change of pace.

Plus, the shopping prices are quite cheaper in the fifties.)

And that’s when she comes across a pair of owl salt-and-pepper shakers.

They are adorable and admittedly tacky, but they match the retroness of her faux TARDIS diner perfectly and Clara can’t help but stop and stare at them. She’d collected owls back in her own, original timeline and silly old habits were hard to break, even after years flying around all of time and space.

Clara picks up one of the owl shakers, runs her thumb over it, and thinks of the first owl figurine she’d brought home oh so many years ago, with it’s white ceramic feathers that nearly looked like furrowed brows and the odd, almost alien expression on its painted face. And then she thinks of him, because of course she does. The only reason why she’d even started collecting owls in the first place was because they reminded her of the Doctor, with his funny, angry owl-like eyes and his velvet coat that floated behind him like a pair of wings.

The one owl she can never have.

Because that is the thing about her and him, they loved each other a little too fiercely, pushed the universe a little too far, and this is the price they paid: she is here, breathless with too many memories of him, and he is elsewhere, living with none of her at all.

Slowly, the owl salt shaker in her hand starts to gloss over and blur, it’s outline all wavy and watery, and Clara has to take a second to purse her lips and shut her eyes and tell herself very sternly not to cry.

(The thing is, she can no longer breathe and her heart doesn’t beat, but she can still shed tears.

She doesn’t know if that bit of leftover humanity is a gift or a curse from the Time Lords.)

And then she shakes her head, clears her throat, and takes the miniature owls to the cash register.

Because decades of agelessly sailing the stars hasn’t done a thing to lessen her fondness for owls.

#

The Doctor is in Clara’s old room on the TARDIS, and he keeps finding owls. They are tucked away, hidden in corners and locked in drawers and pushed behind other knickknacks, so inconspicuous that he hadn’t even noticed them at first glance, but now he sees nothing but them.

There is a painted porcelain owl standing guard over a stack of silver rings, a discarded phone charm of an owl with outstretched wings, and then, sitting atop her nightstand, as if it was meant to keep vigilance over her while she slept, there is a tiny, grey owl with bright blue eyes. It is a plastic thing, a mere children’s toy, but obviously important to her. And as he picks it up and turns it over in his hands, he remembers it sitting atop the TARDIS console.

He cannot see Clara in his memories. Her silhouette is nothing but an indiscernible blur of colors, a nebula in the outline of a body, and her voice is all distorted, but he still remembers that, at one point, she’d pointed to an owl and said:

“He looks like you.”

And then, later, later, later:

“I love owls.”

His usually steady hands falter at the memory and the owl slips through his fingers, falling to the floor, and he knows he should be moving, reaching down to pick it up, but his hands are frozen and his hearts are hammering and he’s replaying her words in his head, over and over and over again.

When she said she’d loved owls, he wonders, had she meant that she loved him? Had she been telling him all this time and he’d just been too deaf and too blind to take notice?

The thought is too much. It is gut-wrenching and raging and and all-consuming, roaring in his mind like an exploding supernova that just won’t stop, and he sinks down to the floor and puts his head in his hands and tries not to scream.

She loved him. She told him right to his face and he hadn’t heard it.

And the thing is, he no longer knows the sound of her laugh or the curve of her lips, but he remembers how he feels about her. He remembers that he loved her, loved her enough to die every day for four-and-a-half billion years. Loved her enough to burn the universe and unravel time, and he knows that she was some sort of guiding force - a North Star and a touchstone and an anchor and something that meant home.

And she still means home.

He just has to find his way back to her.

#

Once upon a time, little Clara Oswald had clutched a book about one-hundred-and-one places to see and dreamed of going to them all.

And now Clara Oswald is over two-hundred and has been to them all and then more. She’s seen the birth and death of stars and the seven wonders of the ancient world back when they were new, she’s seen the Grand Canyon on Earth and the one up on Dreaminx, and more than just seen the universe, she’s saved it.

(Thousands and thousands of times. Because in all of time and space, there are Doctors running around with countless faces, but there is also her, and she is a one-woman storm, sweeping in and saving lives before the Doctor’s ever needed.)

And right now she is standing in the middle of a festival on a starship she’s just saved from crashing, and she’s surrounded by a sea of partiers and entertainers. There are brightly glowing balloons and dancers on stilts and jugglers that hover, and off in the corner, there’s a puppet show being watched by the children with rapt attention.

And Clara turns toward it, steps closer, like it’s slowly reeling her in on a string.

(She gets closer, you see, because the puppet being used in the show is an owl.

It is a black owl, and Clara almost expects to see a flash of red in the lining of its wings.)

By the time she gets near enough to hear, she’s missed most of the story, but from what she’s pieced together, it was about something that was lost.

“See?” the owl puppet says in a gravelly voice. “The things you love always find a way back to you in the end.”

And Clara wonders if it’s true.

#

The tracker on his screwdriver is still running, and sometimes the Doctor thinks that it will always be running, that he’ll spend an eternity chasing after phantoms all hoping they’ll turn out to be her. It was a mere chance, after all, one odd in a billion. He is waiting for one particular ceramic owl to find its way back to one particular girl, and he well knows the vastness of time and the sheer magnitude of the universe and how there’s billions upon billions of galaxies and myriads of stars and countless possibilities of where in all of time and space she could be.

But he can’t bring himself to turn the tracker off.

After all, she’s died before and he’s always found her. Again and again and again. 

All he needs to do is find her just one more time.

#

Clara Oswald is winding her way through an alien bazaar. She doesn’t look a day over thirty, but she’s well over three-hundred.

And she’s about to receive a gift from the past.

Because as she’s weaving through all the brightly colored booths and carts full of trinkets, she finds herself in front of a stall selling antiques, and in that stall, sitting on a stack of crates right at the level of her eye, is a small, white ceramic owl.

It is old and weathered, its paint is scratched and its horns are cracked, but it looks exactly like the very first owl she got, so, so, so many years ago.

(Clara has no way of knowing yet, but after her death on Trap Street, the ceramic owl and her other belongings were packed up and donated and put in a thrift shop and bought as gifts and eventually passed on in wills as antiques until the owl now sits here, some hundreds of years later, miles and miles and miles away from Earth, on an alien planet, simply waiting for her to find it again.

She also has no idea that somewhere out there, the man she loves is spending an eternity tracking it, desperately hoping he can follow it back to her.)

Carefully, Clara picks the owl up, smiling at its glowering beak and the grumpy look in its eyes.

“It’s a very old antique,” the alien vendor tells her as she runs her fingers over the carved feathers. “Made in the form of some Earthen creature.”

“It’s an owl,” Clara tells them, handing over her currency.

“An owl,” the vendor repeats, carefully rolling the odd word over its blue tongue. “What’s an owl?”

Clara smiles, holds the ceramic close, and she thinks.

She thinks of the shade of his eyes and the sound of his voice and the rare curve of his smile and the way he made her laugh.

And at over three-hundred years-old, she’s earned the right to be a sentimental old fool, so she smiles and says:

“It’s something wonderful.”

#

Clara Oswald is on a far-off distant planet, purchasing back her very own owl in a marketplace, and at the very same time, the Doctor is hundreds and thousands of light years away up in space.

And the tracker on the sonic screwdriver suddenly turns bright red.

#

He tries to follow the tracker to her, but the time zone and coordinates are always changing, the numbers and eras she’s in shifting and blinking away, the temporal displacement of two different TARDISES making it hard to get the tracking and timing exactly right. He finds he’s always landing just a step behind her, a day or a decade too late to reach her.

But whenever he lands, he always knows he’s in the right spot, because the traces of her are all around; in fresh sonic scorches on metal or in ancient songs about a girl who is the savior of a thousand worlds or in bedtime stories for children about a warrior queen who came down from the stars just to rescue them.

She is everywhere and she is nowhere, and nothing feels more bittersweet.

“She was scary,” one small child tells him, when he’s landed just an hour too late. “But she was kind. She drew a picture with me. Do you want to see it?”

And the child is confused as to why the Doctor looks like he’s about to both laugh and cry over a drawing of an owl holding a guitar.

#

Clara Oswald has just liberated a prisoner’s of war camp in a futuristic rainforest, and now she’s collapsed on a stool in her faux TARDIS diner.

There’s mud on her shoes and scratches on her skin, but she’s laughing, wired and exhilarated and high off her adventure, and as she laughs she places a small brown owl one of the newly free prisoners carved from the root of a tree for her onto the counter.

She sits it right next to the old, weathered (terribly antique by now) ceramic owl she’s got sitting on the counter, and she thinks of him and wishes he could’ve been there with her, and she smiles into the quiet darkness, and says:

“You would’ve loved it, Doctor.”

(And she pats the owl on the head, and she has no idea that somewhere out there, the Doctor’s desperately trying to use it to follow her home.)

#

When he follows the tracker and lands on Lumia Five, it’s like he’s entering the aftermath of a battle. There are white ashes dusting the ground like fresh snowfall and little burning red embers that look like fallen stars and sweeping plumes of smoke curling up against the clouds.

But all around him the alien villagers are cheering. They are hugging and kissing and singing, and as a group of alien children run by, screaming at the sheer joy of being alive, the Doctor grabs one of them by the shoulders.

“There was a girl here, wasn’t there?” The Doctor asks.

“She saved us,” the child tells him excitedly. “The sky was burning, but then she saved us.”

“What was she like?” The Doctor asks, desperate and proud and eager to hear. “Please, tell me, what was she like?”

And the child grins and says, “She was impossible.”

#

The year is twenty-fourty-nine and there’s a comet about to light up the Nevada night, so Clara’s landed her TARDIS on a dusty desert hill under a clear patch of sky.

The comet only passes once every fifty-seven years. It is a once in a lifetime thing.

(Unless you’re ageless or a time traveler, of course, of which Clara is both. She’s just been back to see it in nineteen-ninety-two and is in the mood for a rerun.)

And when Clara hears the soft ding of her diner’s door, meaning someone’s walked into it, she figures that it is simply another mistake. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She is wrong on both counts.

Because who she sees in her diner stops her right in her tracks, and it’s like the world‘s stopped spinning and time has stood still, because he is there, standing in her faux diner. The sight of him again is both breathtaking and heartbreaking, intoxicating and devastating, because he is not hers, not anymore, but he is beautiful.

(And Clara....Clara has seen nebulas that burn color into dark skies and suns that sweep patterns of light and glittering, curving constellations and diamond filled caverns and nothing, nothing, nothing compares to the elation at seeing him again.)

“Owls,” he says softly, and for the first time, she notices that he has not bothered to turn toward her, that he is concentrated instead on the collection of owls she’s got on the counter.

Clara stares at his side silhouette, but he doesn’t even spare her a glance. He still doesn't know her, she realizes. Maybe he’d just wandered in on a whim. It was the night of a historic comet, after all. She’d been reckless and foolhardy, thinking she could be a part of history and not ever run into him.

And once again, Clara silently, violently curses the entire planet of Gallifrey for making her ageless but leaving her with the ability to cry, because there’s a lump in her throat and there are tears stinging the corners of her eyes. And she’s torn between drinking in the sight of him and closing her eyes because it’s been over three-hundred years since she’s seen him and even after all this time she’s not sure she can handle another goodbye.

“You collect owls,” he says, interrupting her internal storm of thoughts, and his voice manages to sound both matter-of-fact and full of wonder.

“I love owls,” she says quietly.

And at her words, he turns toward her. His gaze first falls at her feet, and then slowly, (slowly, slowly, slowly,  as if he’s trying to scan a blueprint for a secret or piece together a puzzle) he looks up at her face.

And when his bright blue eyes lock onto her dark brown ones, it feels like everything has all come down to this moment, that maybe timelines changed and the universe rearranged and all that tragedy and heartbreak happened just to bring them both back to here, to now, to this very moment.

(She should not dare to hope, she thinks. She is hundreds of years old and she knows that hope is a dangerous thing, and yet she finds herself standing there, hoping and pleading and wanting and wishing.)

And then, in a rough Scottish voice that’s uncharacteristically, desperately, questioning and quiet, he says, “Clara?”

He is asking for confirmation. He is asking for information that once sent the universe burning. Clara stares, swallows hard.

“Dangerous question,” she says, and she means it.

But then he says, “What’s wrong with dangerous?”

And the next thing she knows, he is running to her, hugging her, his arms coming around her in a way they haven’t since Trap Street, and she is falling into him, collapsing against his chest and clutching onto his coat and swearing she’ll never let go, not ever, not again. His face is buried in her hair, and against her temple she hears him murmur something that sounds like her name, over and over again, and she gasps out a sob, tears falling onto the dark velvet of his coat. And for the first time, she’s happy that the Time Lords left her with the ability to cry. Because this...this is both joy and peace, exhilaration and serenity, every second of happiness wrapped up in something that utterly, unquestionably feels right, because falling into his arms feels like coming home.

“Clara,” he whispers against her hair. “My Clara.”

And she thinks that sometimes the things you love really do find their way back to you.

[memelovescaps]

Even if it sends me to Heaven

Summary:

The Doctor has been taken and made to see horrors he can't unsee. When he manages to escape, battered, in the haze of exhaustion and need of comfort, he goes to the only place he feels safe: with Clara. It's up to her to bring the Doctor back from the depths of his own terror.

Twelfth Doctor Whump, hurt/comfort and fluff.

ALSO ON AO3

The Doctor doesn’t know how he manages to get into the TARDIS. A second ago he was handcuffed and when he saw a window of opportunity he ran and ran... until he saw the big blue box parked exactly on the spot he’d left it. He doesn’t know how long he’s been running, his body is in override, driven only by sheer adrenaline, the exhaustion coursing through him buried deep in a corner of his mind.

All he knows is that as soon as his body is through the threshold his beloved sentient machine closes the door and he grabs onto the railings, his body failing him and his energy draining rapidly.

“Clara...” is all he manages to croak before the machine comes to life, the lights switch on and the engine starts roaring.

He notices the TARDIS humming urgently, trying to keep him awake, and he stumbles towards the console, grabbing onto the brake lever as he pulls it down. Not a second later he hears the wonderful sound of the machine dematerializing, he’s never been so glad to hear that sound in all his life.

He doesn’t know how long it takes to travel through hyperspace, he’s only partially aware that he’s moving until he notices the machine coming to a stand-still and parking itself with a thud.

Come out, my Thief... I brought you to her... the machine seems to be telling him. He gulps and walks, almost tripping over his own feet, towards the TARDIS door. He opens it and closes his eyes as he breathes in, the smell of her, of Clara, getting into his nostrils and succeeding in calming him, if only briefly.

It doesn’t take him long to realize she isn’t home, perhaps she’s working still, he has no idea what day or time it is. He can’t care less. His legs take him to the sofa and give out when his knees brush against the nice cushions. His body falls onto the sofa rather gracelessly, all long limbs sprawled around him, and he feels his eyes closing. Exhaustion. Bone-deep exhaustion, it had been a few centuries since he’d felt it so deep.

But Clara isn’t here. Clara. His eyes open again, wide in alarm and panic, not knowing where she is making him anxious and terribly scared. He had to see her, now. Whenever his eyes close he still can see her pale face, his open, lifeless eyes looking up to him without seeing anymore. His lips let out a sob and he tries to pull himself up, but his body refuses to. He’s so tired he can’t focus, his vision blurring on the edges, and he falls flat on the sofa again. He passes out without noticing.

It’s been a long day for Clara, and all she wants to do is change into her pyjamas, have a glass of wine or maybe two, and curl up in the sofa with a ridiculously romantic movie she knew were predictable from the first minute but she loved anyways.

Being a school teacher wasn’t an easy job, and dealing with certain students with the tact and kindness required but still with severity was a constant struggle. She certainly had had practice with that, she thinks as she mentally laughs, thinking of the Doctor. She briefly wonders where he is right now, and what sort of trouble he managed to get himself into without her.

When Clara turns the keys and gets into her apartment she’s still wondering how her newest student, Sophie, could be so manipulative towards her classmates. She’s taken out of her thoughts and her hands stop mid-air, still holding the keys after opening the front door when she sees the TARDIS.

Her trained eyes travel from the blue machine parked in her living room until they land on the slightly slouched figure on the sofa. Alarm bells go off in her mind when she sees his face pale as death and his curls wilder and a bit longer than she remembered. His clothes are torn and wrinkled, his hoodie ripped in a few places, and his grey T-shirt looking older than it sure was. She knows in an instant something’s wrong.

“Hi Doctor” she greets in a light-hearted voice, hoping to bring him calm now that she’s home.

“Clara...” his low exhausted gruff with a hint of fear takes her out of her pretence almost instantly. She looks at him and sees one of his arms tentatively reaching towards her, silently asking her to go by his side. She sighs and walks up to him, leaving his school bag on the dinner table, until she kneels next to him, and when she does he’s fast in grabbing her hands and pull her towards him, his face mere inches away from hers, inspecting. His attack eyebrows are even wilder than before, his white curls untamed and dishevelled. His eyes are wide with panic, his fingers grabbing her wrist with a bit too much strength; but she manages to press her thumbs against the back of his hands, in what she hopes is a soothing gesture. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t have to, she knows that gaze and the terror in those eyes.

“I’m fine” she hurries to say in a soothing voice “I’m okay, nobody hurt me. I’m safe. And so are you”

She never stops pressing her thumb against his hand, willing her fingers to bring him back to the present, until she can notice his frown relaxing and his eyes losing the edge of panic and terror in them. His small hands bring his right hand to her lips, kissing the back and the knuckles delicately, bringing him back to reality. She feels him breathing deeply and she smiles after a few kisses, leaving his hand on his lap.

“Wait here. I’m going to prepare tea and some biscuits, I don’t want to know when was the last time you ate. I’ll be back in a sec”

She knows that always, but especially when he’s in this state, this Doctor needs clear instructions. In the beginning, he claimed he didn’t follow orders, but it didn’t take long for Clara to realize that that was just lies. She’s seen him react to her clear, straightforward orders, and he’s even taken up the habit of calling her ‘boss’ when doing what she asks him to do. Even if he’s a 2000-year-old alien, this particular incarnation is very responsive to a certain kind of authority, she’s seen many times he just needs her to take control and guide him, and this is one of those times.

So, she waits until he’s ready and gives her a simple nod, to get up and walk to the kitchen, making sure to be noisy. Noises help the Doctor, they keep him calm, they give him data of what is happening, of what Clara is doing. Opening the tab and leaving it to flow, filling in the kettle, rummaging through his cupboards... the Doctor can hear the tap running, the water boiling, the packet of biscuits being ripped open... and it calms him. Knowing means safety.

She knows better than to push him for an answer, though. Right now, when he’s hurting, the Doctor will most probably fall silent and answer in monosyllables, if he answers at all.

Clara hates seeing him that way. It doesn’t happen often, mostly because the Doctor’s very good at hiding when he’s in pain, but she always recognizes the ghosts in his big sad eyes. And she feels something warm spreading from her stomach when she realizes that what the Doctor does when he feels hurt, what he considers his safety net, is her.

Perhaps not to talk, for some reason, this incarnation still has difficulties when it comes to putting his feelings into words, but that doesn’t bother Clara. In fact, she’s touched because even in his inability to put his feelings into words he recognizes in Clara an escape. She’s his coping mechanism.

As she thinks, half her brain focuses on serving two mugs of tea, the Doctor’s with insane amounts of sugar, and a few biscuits she knows will help cheer him up, if only momentarily. She then brings the tray to the living room and leaves it on top of the coffee table.

The Doctor reaches to grab her wrist as soon as her hands are free from the tray and pull her down, making her fall to the sofa in a half-laying position next to him. She’s about to complain and move away when she freezes as he throws himself at her. Suddenly she notices his rather larger body on top of her, his long arms going around her middle as he moves his own body down a few inches so he can hunch his shoulders and hide his face against her chest, right under her chin. She’s so taken aback she doesn’t know what to say, so she lets him try to find some solace by laying on top of her, his head on her chest, his impossibly long and wild curls tickling her chin as he clutches at her.

As soon as she can react, though, her arms go around his back and bring him closer to her, one of her hands playing with her hair while the other draws soothing circles on his back. His breathing is irregular, and she starts to gently shush close to his ear when she notices his body shaking slightly and his throat emitting pitiful sounds, much like muffled sobs. She tries not to think about how those sounds are breaking her heart, how much it hurts to see, to feel him so lost and so broken.

Instead, she focuses on whispering reassurances to him, her voice just a whisper close to his ear. She tries to control her breathing and hopes her heartbeat goes back to a regular pace, knowing the Doctor is listening to it. She focuses on how soft his hair is when her fingers run through the grey curls, or how remarkably solid his back really feels even if he seems like a tall stick insect when he’s standing upright.

Clara’s taken out of her reverie when she notices him rubbing his face against her jumper as if he’s trying to impregnate himself with her scent, as his arms pull her closer to him. She shushes again, craning her neck so she can kiss his temple and forehead hoping it would help in calming him. She looks down and feels a bit hopeless as she sees the mighty proud Time Lord, always so full of pent-up energy and knowledge, silently sobbing and curling himself up in a ball as though he wanted to become smaller and smaller until he disappeared.

The silence stretches, his whimpers becoming more like sighs until Clara realizes that he seems calmer. His breathing has become regular again but, much to Clara’s relief, he makes no indication that he’s uncomfortable or overwhelmed by being so close to her.

That’s one of the things Clara has noticed have changed since Christmas. Before their second chance at travelling together, the Doctor would be very adamant to keep displays of affection to a minimum. She never knew what it was exactly that made him as tense as a ramrod whenever she hugged him, rested her head on his shoulder, or even just held his hand.

After the affair with the dream crabs though, he seemed like a kid who’d been given the present he’d been asking for years, and he changed. The Doctor that emerged from the months apart and their reunion was kinder and warmer, and what previously scared him or made him tense, now seemed to make him happy and relieved.

He seems to revel in the new-found physicality of their relationship, and it still takes Clara by surprise when he unexpectedly holds her hand, moves to hug her or squeezes her arm. She can’t help but appreciate every single one of his gestures, though, and can’t do anything else but smile. And he smiles back, his eyes warmer, his smile softer, even his attack eyebrows don’t seem as stern as they were before. She’s grateful of the long way they’ve both come and most especially tonight, since right now, with the weight of the Doctor’s body on top of her, she’s relieved to be able to be affectionate to him without being afraid to overwhelm him.

Clara comes back to the present when finally, after a long while of hiding his face against her chest, the Doctor moves away a few inches and looks up at her.

“Hey,” she whispers, smiling softly.

Her smile falters momentarily when she realizes his eyes are sad, red-rimmed and wet, as well as his cheeks, the tears had left a mark where they rolled down. She doesn’t let her smile disappear, though, and with gentle movements she cups his cheeks with her small warm hands, wiping away the tears with her thumbs as she looks at the man who’s stolen her heart with a soft, loving expression. He doesn’t move, simply lets her have her way and clean his face as he closes his eyes, breathing deeply.

She realizes he hasn’t said anything except for her name when she arrived. It’s not unheard of, this incarnation more prone to falling silent than the previous one, but it still makes Clara anxious. When the Doctor is silent it means there’s something wrong and she doesn’t like it. She’d rather have him ramble away in his Scottish gruff she’s come to appreciate, than his silence.

However, she knows he won’t talk. At least not now. She’s been with the Doctor long enough to know that whenever he was in deep pain he tended to run away, putting the pain away in a corner of his mind until he could be functional again, and never talk about it again. It was a recurrent theme with him, and something extremely hard or painful had happened for him to come to look for her, something she wants to help with but doesn’t know how.

“I know something happened, Doctor” she whispers, looking at him in the eyes. His own widen in panic but she’s quick to shush and caress his cheek before he can even think of pulling away “I know, I know it hurts” she continues, her voice soft, full of understanding and so low it’s a mere whisper “it’s okay. Just know that whatever it was, it’s over. You’re with me and nothing can hurt you here. Or me. We’re safe”

The sad but hopeful expression in his eyes breaks her heart, and she doesn’t hesitate in leaning in and kissing the tip of his nose, smiling and nudging him to return to his previous position. He does, his arms surrounding her body as he takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out, his chest expanding against Clara’s stomach.

Suddenly, she thinks she hears something. It’s subtle at first, like a mumbling of words you only hear the noise of but can’t distinguish a single word, but after a while, it becomes more insistent. For a split second, she’s about to ask if he said something but decides against it. She keeps silent instead, her ears straining to hear the noise again when she realizes it’s not a noise. It’s a voice. His voice. But it doesn’t come from his throat, it’s not the usual gruff that erupts from his chest, but the voice inside his mind, the same voice that kept rambling on probably even when he was taking one of his cat naps.

And it’s whispering some words, over and over again. Clara focuses more, closing her eyes and opening her mind, wanting, yearning to know what he’s saying. And then she hears, as clear as day, his voice inside her head.

Clara... my Clara...

It takes her a while to realize why she’s hearing that until it dawns on her that Time Lords are telepathic beings. This Doctor hardly ever uses his telepathy so it’s easy for her to forget, but now she can hear his thoughts loud and clear in her mind.

Clara... scared, so scared... Clara, safe...

It shocks her that his thoughts are not complete sentences or even ideas, just a string of unconnected thoughts all jumbled with each other. She hears and can almost feel his fear reverberating through his words, though, and realizes that when his thoughts are clouded by his terror his arms cling to her a bit tighter. She’s shocked and touched by just how much the Doctor truly considers her safety, by how his only thought when he’s frightened is her.

Clara, my Clara... safe... not hurt... alive...

She considers his thoughts for a moment. He isn’t only scared for himself, he seems to be fearful for her safety. She notices his arms impossibly tight around her, his body craving to feel the closeness of her, to feel her against him. She frowns, her brain going at a thousand miles an hour to guess what had happened to the Doctor to bring him to this state.

“Yes, your Clara... I’m here, I’m safe... and so are you. I’m not going anywhere” she whispers, dropping a kiss on top of his head while trying to allay his fears. He moves his face away from her chest, one of his eyebrows raised impossibly high, and her throat emits a half-laugh “I can hear you, Doctor”

“You can... hear my thoughts?” he manages to ask, his voice raspy and croaked.

“I can” she answers, nodding slightly “I never could until now”

“I’m sorry,” he says almost immediately, trying to pull away from her, but her hands stop him “I don’t normally do this, this stupid, stupid body is so useless sometimes...”

“Hey, it’s okay” she interrupts soothingly. She grabs the lapels of his wrinkled coat and stops him from pulling further away “it’s okay, nothing’s wrong” then she pauses for a moment “why do you say useless?”

“Time Lords are telepathic, you know that. But some are better than others, and some incarnations are better than others. I used to be good at this; I used to be good at reading people’s faces and emotions and at keeping my thoughts from leaking when people touched me...”

“Is this... why you’re so averse to hugging?” Clara asked, suddenly the pieces falling into place in her mind.

“Partly, yes. Your brains are fragile, Clara. Having a connection with mine, having your mind attacked by the force of a Time Lord brain could kill you... I... I can’t...”

“Shhhh it’s okay... it’s okay, you didn’t hurt me” she soothes when she hears the Doctor’s voice breaking, his eyes averting her gaze. She can feel his hands on her hips, his fingers grabbing her clothes desperately, silently pleading for her to not leave “you can never hurt me, you daft old man...”

One of her hands travels to his face, caressing his chin with her index finger before she gently tilted his head up to make him look at her. He squeezes his eyes shut at first, refusing to do so, but Clara uses the same finger to trace his bushy eyebrows and eyelids, very gently and slowly, until he finally opens up his eyes. When he does, she isn’t surprised to see them glassy with tears, his face contorted in a pained expression of pure guilt and fear she hates seeing. And her eyes well up too when his leaked thoughts travel to her mind, pulling at her heart a bit more.

Clara… don’t leave me, please… please… I’m sorry, please…

The fear and need she hears leaking from his mind and the utter desperation in his words and his eyes do it for Clara. She closes her eyes and feels a couple of tears flow freely down her cheeks as she grabs the lapels of his torn suit jacket and pulls him in, just at the same time that he lunges forward at her, his arms encircling her immediately. Tears flood his eyes as he rests his face against her shoulder, hiding his face in her hair as he clings to her in desperation, his arms squeezing her upper body with so much strength he seems to want to disappear altogether. His previous muffled whimpers become audible and she does what she can to hold him tight and whisper reassurances close to his ear.

“Shhh, it’s okay Doctor… I’m not leaving you…” she whispered, again and again, hoping that some of the meaning behind those words get into his broken hearts.

She desperately wants to know what happened to bring the Doctor to this state. This isn’t like him. They’ve lived hundreds of adventures together, she’s seen him angry, frustrated, hurt and sad; but he’s never had an emotional breakdown in front of her. Not like this, not like he’s so terrified of losing her that he’s trying to be engulfed by her small body, much smaller than his. And it’s starting to truly scare Clara, not knowing what it had caused the Doctor to flee to her apartment and wait for her, and hide against her in pain and terror.

She feels something pull inside her chest, her mind remembering that old boy inside the barn, crying himself to sleep. She felt his terror that day as she feels it now, and she does what she wishes she had done back then: hold back her tears and hold him tighter, protectively passing one arm around his back while the other hand strokes his hair in calming motions that she hopes help in soothing him.

“Doctor I’m alright. I’m okay, you didn’t hurt me. Nobody did” she reassures him, her lips kissing the top of his head repeatedly “you don’t have to be scared. It’s all over now, whatever that was. It’s over”

“But it isn’t” she hears him say, his voice raspy, broken and terribly sad “it’s still in my mind, when I close my eyes... I...”

“Shhhh” she soothes him. She manages to grab one of his hands, gently disentangling the fingers from its death grip on her clothes and brings it to her chest, placing it just above her left breast, where she knows her heart is beating “it’s still over, Doctor. Listen to my heart, I’m okay. I’m alive...”

She’s about to tell him that it didn’t happen but the words die in her mouth before she can spill them, and she feels momentarily grateful for it. She feels a bit out of her depth, without knowing what had happened to the Doctor she can’t reassure him except to tell him that she’s alive and well, but what if she wasn’t? What if the Doctor had seen a future where she isn’t okay, where she’s dead? She feels terrified for a second before she puts those thoughts away, they don’t matter now. Compartmentalise, come on Clara she tells herself shaking her head slightly.

She can feel the Doctor’s large hand on her chest, his fingers grabbing the fabric of her jumper as the palm is pressed against it, and slowly the Doctor’s whimpers start to diminish. She allows herself a small breath of relief.

When his sobs are nothing more than quiet sniffles she squirms a bit under him, but his arms tighten their hold again. She awkwardly turns her head and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Doctor, I’m not going anywhere” she whispers, her voice incredibly soft and in a tone she usually reserves for when the Doctor is feeling low or hurt, even if he never admits it to her in words “I won’t disappear on you. I promise”

But he shakes his head.

“You can’t promise that”

“I can’t promise tomorrow. But tonight, I’m all yours” she keeps her voice low as she manages to disentangle a reluctant Doctor from her and shifts on the sofa to sit on her heels. The Doctor slowly moves away and sits on the sofa facing her with his legs crossed, she doesn’t fail to notice just how close he sits, so close that her knees brush against his shins.

Her face leans forward until it’s mere inches away from his as he watches, using the back of one of her hands to caress his cheek and dry the tears. She didn’t know how much she hated seeing his tears until now, and she can’t be quick enough to get rid of them. If there’s one thing in the whole wide universe she simply cannot bear is seeing him hurting.

She leans even closer until her lips find his other cheek, brushing against his pale skin as they kiss the tears away.

“Tea is cold” she whispers, their faces so close that her lips almost brush against his nose. He doesn’t answer, just shrugs, but when she locks eyes with him she’s momentarily breathless.

They’re still glassy and look impossibly old and sad, but they gaze at her with so much affection and, she can’t describe it any other way, devotion in them, that she feels her chest tighten and a shiver spreading throughout her body.

“What would I do without you, my Clara...” he whispers as he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

His voice is open and vulnerable, his walls completely crumpled at his feet, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. She tries to rationalize it, she tells herself that must be the hurt, fear and exhaustion talking, she’s noticed how slow his movements are and wonders just how he copes to even be awake in his state, but all those thoughts are nothing compared to the impact his words have on her. She feels her eyes welling up again and she gulps at his confession, feeling her heart explode with how much love and care he’d put in those words. She smiles.

“You won’t have to worry about that for a long time, old man” she whispers, her trembling fingers caressing his cheek, putting a few of his unruly curls behind his ear and her smile softening when they move out of their own accord to go back to their previous position.

“I will... soon... it will happen in an instant, and then I don’t know what...” he stops talking and breathes a few times, trying to calm himself.

She frowns.

“What did you see, Doctor?” she asks.

He feels his entire body tensing and she knows this isn’t what she set out to do in the first place. But she takes in his state: not only is he terrified and had come looking for her, scared for her safety as well as his own, but he’s also looking pretty dishevelled. His clothes are torn at a few spots, all wrinkled and dusty, and his face looks like he hadn’t washed it in a couple of days. His eyes have dark shadows under them, and he looks even thinner than last time they saw each other. He’s clingy and needy, something that truly concerns Clara as he never, ever showed her his pain to this extent. This isn’t the Doctor she’s used to, he’s close to a tipping point, and it is her job to care for him, especially when he’s at his lowest.

“I know you don’t want to tell me” she continues, her voice just a mere whisper “but you’re not yourself. You’re hurt and scared. Let me help you”

“No, you can’t” he starts and tries to pull away, but Clara’s hand goes towards the nape of his neck, holding him in place.

“Shhh... don’t go. Don’t hide from me, Doctor. Don’t go to a place I can’t reach you” she pleads.

She looks at him as she tries to hide her tears, blinking repeatedly to dispel them, but seeing him like that is one of the hardest things she’s ever done. The Doctor is pulling away from her, or at least it seems he’s trying to, but she knows he isn’t really trying.

“Let me help” she insists “you’ve held the weight of the universe on your own for so long it seems that only you can do it, but you don’t have to do it alone…”

“I can’t... if... if I let you in, I’ll lose you and... the memory will be too hurtful, the pain too great...”

“And yet, whether you want me in or not... I’m already in” she whispers. He looks at her quizzically and she smiles warmly and softly before placing a kiss on his forehead, one of her hands still at the nape of his neck and her fingers playing with the curls there “you’re with me and I’m with you. I won’t stand here and let you torture yourself”

“Clara…” he’s tired, she can sense it. His accent gets thicker, his r’s rolling even more when he calls her name “you don’t know what I’ve seen, or the things I’ve done...”

“Maybe not everything, no. But I know you” she answers, insistently “and you’re here, with me. That tells me everything I need to know”

The Doctor doesn’t answer, his lips are pressed into a thin line, but his right hand hesitantly travels towards her. It rests on top of her chest and she hears him breathe deeply and close his eyes as he feels the drumming of her beating heart under his fingers.

Clara’s rather small hand cups his face, so small it can barely cover the cheek and uses her thumb to stroke the skin, dry and dusty but still beautiful to her eyes. The Doctor’s eyes flicker open again and focus on her, solely on her, and she feels her breath taken away as the man who’s seen burning stars and the birth of entire galaxies looks at her as if she’s the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.

She opens her arms as she realizes the exact moment the Doctor gives in, his body sagging against her as it falls forward, trusting she’ll catch him. And she does. Her arms receive his battered, lanky body as if they had been doing this all their lives. He breathes her in, her scent intoxicating his nostrils as his arms tighten around her.

“I was taken. And they made me see... I saw you. I lost you, Clara. You were... Gods, there was so much blood…”

His voice is raspy and his words slurring even deeper in his Scottish accent, it seems to Clara that every word said was agony.

“I felt your life leaving your body as I held you in my arms, and then all I could see was darkness tearing me apart... there was nothing for me, I couldn’t breathe...”

His voice breaks as he sniffles and catches his breath, finding it impossible to continue. She gently cradles his head and strokes his hair, letting him try to calm himself down and not making an effort to stop his choked sobs.

“And then I saw myself... drifting in and out of consciousness, and wanting to be dead when realizing that... that you won’t be here anymore...”

His breath hitches and a sob interrupts him, but she doesn’t need him to continue. She understands now. She grasps why the Doctor feared for her safety, and why he was so scared of being alone. But above all, her eyes are open to her own mortality.

They’d been open before, or at least she thought they were, with Danny Pink’s passing. She thought she’d realized just how fragile her human life was, and decided to make the most of her years and youth with the Doctor. She wanted to see all those wonders he’d promised week after week so that when she was old and frail she could have those memories to look back at.

Now, she realizes that the Doctor stands to lose much more than a friend and companion. She becomes aware with painful clarity that losing her will break the Doctor, in all the ways a Time Lord can be broken, and she fears he’ll be so far gone nobody will be able to bring him back.

“I’m so sick of losing...” his broken, gravel voice utters, muffled by her clothes. Clara tightens her hold on him, wishing nothing more than to open up his hearts and get rid of his immense pain with her own hands. She gulps.

“I’m sorry Doctor... I’m so, so sorry...” she whispers, sniffling against his hair. She hasn’t realized when she started crying, but she cares not “I’m sorry you’ve had to see that and it got you so scared...” she pauses, craning her neck and kissing his cheek “but I won’t feel sorry for being with you”

His breath hitches and she knows, even though she can’t see his face, that he wants an explanation.

“All of us lose at some point. All of us lose people who are precious to us, people we can’t bear to lose, without whom we think life has no meaning. And yet, we live. We go on, day after day, putting one foot in front of the other, knowing that the world is a little bit more grey because of their absence”

She feels the Doctor nodding. Both of them have had to deal with losses that have shaped and made them who they are now.

“But if there’s one thing I know is this: what we do, what we have, is worth more than every ounce of pain it can bring later” her voice is soft but clear, determined “I’m better because I’m with you, Doctor, and I’ll never regret a single day I spend travelling with you”

“But I will. Clara, this... it’s become too dangerous, I can’t keep you safe if...”

“You don’t have to keep me safe, I never asked you for that. I’m with you by my own choice, and I won’t leave” she knows this is something he doesn’t want to hear but needs to hear anyway “isn’t this life worth living and remembering, precisely because there will be pain later?”

She feels the Doctor is about to speak, but she cuts him before he can even open his mouth. It’s important to her that he understands.

“And one last thing: isn’t this why you keep us? Isn’t this why you befriend us, why you make us your companions, why even after losing so much you keep coming back?” she asks.

The Doctor removes his face from her shoulder at her words, and she feels his eyes focused on her, but she can’t say what she needs to say and look at him at the same time. She casts her eyes down and fixates upon a hole in his hoodie, one of many it has, as she gathers her thoughts.

Their relationship had been marked by silences and lies they told each other to protect themselves. The lies and the deception had been the constant in their friendship, but no more. Clara had had enough of feeling a rift between her and the Doctor, she had had enough of wanting to get close to him but struggling to find the way. She realizes now that the only way to do that with the Doctor is to strip down of anything that covered her, to get rid of all the lies and layers and layers of coolness detachment. She cleared her throat, this was the moment.

“I don’t think you travel with us just to show us stars and planets, or to live adventures in some far-off universes no human has heard of. It goes beyond that. It’s to do with pain and grief, and sadness and loneliness” she infuses her words with a gentle caress of his cheek with the back of her index finger, still not looking directly at him “what you do, Doctor, is never about travelling and stars and planets. It’s about compassion, friendship, and loyalty. It’s about love. Love for every sentient being in the universe, for every person that is brave enough to stand next to you when all you have in front of you are hard choices”

Her eyes stop avoiding his gaze and lock onto his. They’re glistening, his eyebrows raised in an expression of warmth surprise.

“Why do you come with me, Clara?” he asks, emphasising with his index finger towards her “why do you do it still, after everything that’s happened?”

And Clara takes a deep breath, looks at him in the eye with warmth, and smiles.

“Because I see wonders” she repeats the words she said long ago, now a seemingly distant memory “I see wonders beyond my imagination, I discover new things every single day...”

She pauses and smiles warmly, one of her hands travelling to his forehead, brushing a few strands of hair off his face.

“And because I see a beautiful universe hidden inside a blue time machine”

He raises his eyebrows, his eyes posing a question so innocent she’s tempted to giggle, but she just smiles, feeling her cheeks burning.

“The universe is vast, wonderful, scary and mysterious. But there's no bigger mystery that I’d love to spend my life exploring than this one” she places her hand on his chest, right between his two hearts, and she feels him shiver with the contact “and if one day I die next to you, in one of our adventures - ”

She feels his breath hitch but she presses on.

“I want you to remember my words. I want you to remember that there’s no other place in the universe, no one else I’d rather spend my life with than you. I’ll never regret that decision.”

Her eyes travel to his cheeks and she smiles when she sees him blushing slightly, her pale cheeks gaining a bit of colour and even the tip of his ears are of a slight pink. And she knows he finally understands. It’s not easy, they both know it won’t be, and when the time comes he’ll need reminding of the words exchanged right now at this moment. But for now, Clara is satisfied.

However, all breath is taken out of her lungs when she finally locks eyes with him. There is no fear or panic anymore, there is no sadness. Instead, she sees them warm and dangerous, glistening with a burning fire that threatens to consume everything. And for a mad second, she thinks that burning surrounded by that fire wouldn’t be such a bad death after all.

Neither of them knows who makes the first move. Suddenly, all her doubts, the lies she’d told herself, the walls they’d built... they all come crashing down at their feet as their lips find each other. It’s tentative at first, a mere brush of lips against lips, but the touch is electrifying and soon their mouths are demanding and giving at equal parts.

My Clara...

She hears inside her head as her arms surround the Doctor’s body and pull him towards her, deepening the kiss. The Doctor responds by passing his long arms around her back and pulling her against him, his legs moving out of the way so their bodies can be even closer. She won’t lie to herself, she’d imagined before what it would be like to be kissed by the Doctor, but she’s glad to prove that none of her fantasies came even closer to the sensations coursing through her body now. Her mind is fuzzy and she can’t think, only enjoy the wonderful feeling spreading to every single cell in her body.

She only comes back and feels she can think coherently again when she hears a muffled moan coming from the Doctor, stifled by her own lips. She doesn’t want to rush things and she knows this will take time, so her kiss begins to transform into something kinder, softer, less urgent. The Doctor responds, he seems confused at first but relents until she ends the kiss with a slow, warm kiss on his upper lip.

“Is this... okay?” he asks, his voice sounding tentative, concerned and just a tiny bit scared. She thinks it’s adorable.

“More than okay” she answers, smiling widely as she leans again and places a warm, loving peck on his lips.

After a quick dinner, Clara sees the Doctor begin to slip, and she knows he needs to sleep, she’s surprised at the Time Lord’s stamina to even be awake in his state. He’s physically and emotionally exhausted, and she offers him her bed to spend the night.

He gets flustered when she offers and tries to tell her that there’s no need to, he can sleep in the TARDIS, but she can read him so well he knows he was just trying to be polite. His eyes have lost that panic and terror edge they had when she came in through the door, but she knows the horrors that await in his dreams and she won’t let him be away from her tonight.

So, she uses her ‘carer’ card and tells him she would worry less if he’s sleeping next to her, just in case he wakes up, she’d rather be by his side. His eyes soften, his lips drawing a wonderful warm smile and he nods his head slowly, his hands pulling his suit jacket off and discarding it on top of one of Clara’s chairs.

She watches as he gets undressed, making sure to pretend averting her gaze to give him a modicum of privacy. But she doesn’t have to be telepathic to know that his methodic, shy and studied movements are a result of shame, he doesn’t like the body he’s in right now, and she’s seen many instances in which he referred to bow-tie him as a “dashing young time traveller”. She knows he’s convinced this incarnation is not something nice to see, and that Clara would much rather be with his previous, much younger-looking version of him. He confused her coworker Adrian Davies with her boyfriend only because of his nice hair and bowtie, it reminded him of his previous incarnation and the one he thought Clara was attracted to.

What he doesn’t know, what Clara is dying to tell him, is that no other Doctor has awakened in her the feelings he does, and that’s all because of him, and only him. She will tell him, of course, but not today. For now, all she does is change into her nightwear and climb into bed, waiting for the Doctor to strip to his wrinkled T-shirt and boxers. When he does she stretches her arms into a silent but clear invitation, smiling when she sees he’s still blushing slightly, his eyes darting to a hole in the blanket and bouncing slightly on his toes. When he looks at her, though, his eyes still hold that blazing fire and she gulps as he finally climbs into bed.

Once the mattress sinks under his weight he moves closer to her, at first tentatively but when Clara manages to pass an arm around him he presses himself to her until half his body is on top of her. She notices one of his long legs bending and coming to rest in between hers, his cold toes caressing her shins as one of his arms rests over her stomach, his hand grabbing her pyjamas between his fingers.

She sighs against him and brings him closer to her, letting him rest his face near her breastbone, his nose inhaling her wonderful scent as she pets his hair in slow, soothing motions. She closes her eyes and lets the silence fill the room until she can hear drumming close to her. She focuses on the sound and realizes that it’s the beating of his hearts, strong, pumping; a set of four beats that make her relax instantly, the cadence of it calming and soothing.

“Good night, my Doctor” she whispers as her lips kiss the top of his head, her eyes still closed.

Good night, my Clara she hears in her mind before his eyes close and she feels his body relax against her.

[riversofmars]

Chapter 10: The Lesser Evil

Tranzelore

“Don’t go, please my love, it’s too dangerous.“ River pleaded, grabbing her husband’s arm as he headed for his time stream that pulsed and flared in the middle of his supposed tomb.“You can’t cross into your own time stream.“ It was done, Vastra, Jenny and Strax where back, so were Amy and Rory. Clara had done it, jumping into his time stream, she had stopped the Great Intelligence at every turn, keeping the timeline intact. There was nothing left to do.

“I’ve got to get her out.“ He insisted stepping closer to his time stream.

“You could die, you could cease to exist.“ River argued trying to stop him.

“She’s always there, all over my time stream, that is why she is important.“ The pieces were falling into place. This was why they had been encountering Clara over and over again. He had been so intrigued and finally, he had figured it out. “Run you clever boy and remember.“ He echoed the words she had said to him many times over.

“Darling.“ River could sense she wasn’t getting anywhere, her husband was in a world of his own thoughts.

“Finally I’ve worked her out.“ He grinned, pleased with the accomplishment. Initially he’d only kept her close out of curiosity, trying to work out how she could be appearing and dying again and again but what a nice surprise that she was actually a loyal friend all along. Sacrificing herself by jumping into his time stream, he could hardly think of a greater proof of loyalty.

“Then leave it at that.“ River tried to reason with him. “We’re safe, the timeline is intact, don’t risk it now, making her sacrifice pointless.“

“I won’t fail.“ He reassured her, a confident smile on his handsome features.

“But what if you do.“ River exclaimed. “You can’t risk your life for hers!“

“Why not?“ He looked back at her confused.

“Why not?!“ River echoed his words in disbelief.

“There are only very few people we can truly trust River, we need to keep them close. She’s just proven her loyalty.“ He looked back to the pulsing energy as if he could see Clara within it. “I owe her to get her out of there.“

“Is that all? Loyalty?“ River’s words were sharper than she had intended, revealing more than she meant to.

“River.“ He groaned in annoyance. Jealousy was not an attractive quality.

“I think it’s a fair question, you’d make me a widow of me in a pointless attempt at saving her?“ River retorted accusingly. Surely he had to know how this would make her feel.

“River, I love you, you must know that.“ He started reaching for her hand, trying to reassure her.

“Then listen to me!“ River insisted, her expression one of both anger and fear. What if he did, in fact, lose himself in there? She couldn’t bare the idea of losing him.

“I always listen.“ He told her and pulled her into his arms. “You’re the one that always here by my side, you’re the first thing I see when I wake and the last when I go to sleep. And I always listen.“ He pressed a kiss to her hair. “But sometimes, you have to listen to me too when I tell that this is what I have to do.“ He took her face in his hands and kissed her, hoping to convey his love and devotion. “Trust me?“ He asked softly as they parted.

“Always.“ River smiled. That impossible, infuriating man.

“See you in a minute, Professor Song.“ He gave her a wink, straightened his bowtie and jumped into his time stream.

——

“Now isn’t that a bit forward, seeing as you’re still fully dressed, Doctor?“ River smirked as she grabbed the Doctor by the collar and ripped her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. The Doctor jolted back, colour draining from her face. She was too shocked to respond and River took advantage of her stupor. She pulled her around, knocking her into the wall face first. The Doctor tried to pull away but River pinned her against the wall with her own weight. “What? Should I not have said anything? Would you like to keep going and we pretend I don’t know who you really are?“ River hummed against the shell of her ear as she pressed herself against her. She brushed her hair aside and pushed her other hand around her, fumbling with the button of her trousers.

“You knew.“ The Doctor groaned as River trailed kisses up the side of her neck. She tried to pull away from her touch. This had been a terrible idea. She was already regretting her moment of weakness. “When did you realise?“

“About five seconds in.“ The amusement was audible in River’s sultry voice.

“Then why did you…“ The Doctor tried to throw her off, anxiety building as River succeeded in unbuttoning her trousers. She should have realised this was a trap, she should have questioned why River had fallen for her act so completely. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to imitate the Emperor well enough to fool her own wife.

“It got you here, didn’t it? Also… I was curious to see how far you’d go…“ River chuckled as she buried her hand in the Doctor’s hair and pulled her head back. “Maybe I should have let you carry on, now we will never know.“ She ran her hand along the waistband of her Doctor’s pants, clearly enjoying the Doctor’s near-panic as she fought against her. “But alas, I couldn’t do that to my wife.“ Unexpectedly, she let go of her and took a step back, tying up her nightgown. “I didn’t think that I would have to be the one to stop.“ She tilted her head in amusement as she watched the Doctor turn around quickly doing up her trousers, she tried to pull the shirt shut to cover herself up but the buttons were all but two ripped off. Her eyes darted around the room for a way out as River regarded her like a lioness her prey. “Don’t even think about it. I triggered a silent alarm ages ago when I went to get changed.“ River smirked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Of course you did.“ The Doctor groaned, annoyed by her own stupidity, she really should have known.

“Well, I didn’t know how much time I would have. How was I to know you were that easily to keep close.“ River chuckled. “The guards are outside the door and my wife should be home any minute. You think you had a hard time last time? Just wait till she finds out what you’ve been up to.“

——

“Fine, no more games.“ Clara chuckled, there was no need for theatrics now that she had got River out of sight of anyone else. “I think that’s quite enough of that.“ Somewhere in the other room the squark of a raven sounded making River look around for a second. As she looked back to Clara, her tattoos began to blur, rising up into the air.

“A quantum shade.“ River jerked back, immediately realising what she was dealing with.

“Aren’t you the perceptive one.“ Clara replied patronisingly as she pushed River’s hand with the knife away. “Now, I suggest you stop this.“ She tried to shove her off and River obliged, she got to her feet and stepped back, keeping the swirling darkness in her sights. She knew when something could be fought and when it was better to take a step back and reevaluate her options. “There’s a good girl.“ Clara got to her feet as River tried to formulate an escape plan.

“You’re trying to use me to get to the Doctor. Is she even here?“ River tried her best to control her anger, as she realised what was going on. She wanted answers. She didn’t do well at the mercy of others. She threw the butter knife across the room in anger.

“Oh she’s here alright.“ Clara said softly. “And yes, I am going to use you to get her help.“

“Her help? If you need help, you just ask for it! You don’t have to blackmail the Doctor, the Doctor always helps if…“ River exclaimed but Clara started laughing, interrupting her.

“The Doctor always helps.“ She mimicked her. “I bet she does as well… You’re so naive. Both of you are. It’s laughable. Just between us girls, River, I don’t think it’s the sort of help she’ll want to give.“

The Raven burst out of the other room making River take a step back. It landed on Clara’s shoulder as she held out the note she’d written earlier.

——

“Alright, fine, shouldn’t have done this, I get it.“ The Doctor tried her best to steady her voice. “Brain short-circuited, physically you could be my wife after all.“

“Yes yes and since she’s dead, it’s not really cheating, is it? You tell yourself that. I thought you were someone who would be kept up at night by this sort of thing but maybe I underestimated you after all. Or I overestimated your devotion to your wife.“ River hummed with no small measure of gratification in her voice. “Do you still want my hand between your legs, Doctor?“

“That’s quite alright, I can sort that out for myself later.“ The Doctor bit back, trying to give as good as she got and gloss over how much her words stung.

“I very much doubt you’ll get the opportunity.“ River grinned briefly glancing to the door. The Doctor couldn’t be sure if she actually expected her wife to return any moment now or if she was only trying to intimidate her by acting like she would. Either way, she needed to get out of here now.

“You really are remarkably like my River, witty, determined, strong… but there’s just one thing, one mistake my River never would have made.“ The Doctor said as River returned her attention to her.

“Yeah? And what’s that?“ River laughed.

“My River never let’s me keep my sonic when she doesn’t want me to get out of handcuffs.“ The Doctor grabbed her sonic screwdriver from her back pocket and blasted River with it. It wasn’t much, not harmful, not debilitating but for a moment, she blinded her, disoriented her, scrambling the signals from the nerves in her eyes to her brain. A moment was all the Doctor needed to bolt and rush to the TARDIS. River screamed, not in pain but in anger as she needed a moment to recover. The Doctor wasn’t even paying attention to her anymore, she didn’t look back, when she found the TARDIS wasn’t locked. She rushed inside and the lights came on. It wasn’t the warm golden light she knew, it was red and garish against the black walls.

“Really bloody cheerful.“ The Doctor mumbled to herself as she hurried to the console. She started pressing buttons and pulling levers but the TARDIS revolted. The humming and wheezing was loud, unhappy, the Doctor got an electric shock and she pulled her hand back. The TARDIS knew she wasn’t the Emperor and she was refusing to cooperate.

“She won’t let just anyone fly her.“ The Doctor whirled around to see River heading for her. The diversion had been even less effective than she had hoped. “You’re going to regret this, Doctor.“ River snarled.

“Emergency teleport then!“ The Doctor used her sonic to blast the TARDIS console. Sparks flew and River lunged forward but the TARDIS control room around her disappeared. It wasn’t ideal, she didn’t have the TARDIS like she had hoped, but it was a way out.

When the Doctor materialised she looked around panicked, trying to orient herself.

“Great, it worked!“ She exclaimed as she recognised Clara’s quarters. “Clara! We need to talk!“ She looked around for Clara but froze when she found a second person with her. “River…“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock. There was no way the Emperor’s wife would have been able to get here before her. She wouldn’t have known where the teleport went and this River was wearing the environmental suit she had worn in the Library. There was only one explanation. The Doctor’s head was spinning, she felt sick as her emotions overwhelmed her. The extraction chamber had worked, River was here.

River looked back at her in surprise. This woman had just appeared out of thin air and judging by the look on Clara’s face, she hadn’t expected her sudden appearance either. The blonde looked at her as if she was a ghost or perhaps a wish come true? There were all sorts of emotions painted on her soft features and tears were welling up in her big eyes that were so impossibly deep and old, not at all matching the youthfulness of her pretty face.

“Doctor?“ River asked slowly remember what Clara had told her. The Doctor was a woman now and this woman looked at her as if she was her sun and stars.

“River, you’re alive!“ The Doctor exclaimed and throwing caution to the wind she rushed to her, flinging herself around her neck. River was overwhelmed, she nearly knocked her off her feet but she pulled her close, held her, reflex more than anything else, as she tried to wrap her head around what she already knew to be true.

“Is it really you?“ She asked tentatively as she pulled back and looked the blonde up and down.

“Oh right, you haven’t seen this face before.“ The Doctor smiled as she took a step back and wiped away a few stray tears in embarrassment.

“Can’t say that I mind…“ River chuckled. “What have you been up to?“ She raised her eyebrows at her barely buttoned shirt.

“Ah… uhh…“ The Doctor blushed and a crushing wave of guilt came over her, overshadowing her joy for seeing her. What had she done? How could she? She struggled to breath as she was searching for the right words.

“Sorry to interrupt this touching moment, but you are in my quarters.“ Clara interrupted at last, fed up of being ignored. She scrunched up the note she had been about to give her Raven. There was no need for it now. This was even better than she could have imagined.

“Clara.“ The Doctor pulled River behind herself as she turned to face her.

“How nice of you to join us, Doctor.“ Clara smirked, observing her protective gesture with amusement. Yes, this would work very well indeed. “It seems as though you forgot something in the extraction chamber.“

“What’s going on here?“ The Doctor demanded to know.

“What’s going on is that I was just trying to work out what exactly happened when you came here, Doctor, and as I was having my look around the extraction chamber, your wife appeared.“ Clara explained with a smug smile.

“River, are you okay, are you…“ The Doctor glanced to her wife and grabbed her hand to assure herself she was here.

“Alive? I think so. As alive as one is coming out of an extraction chamber…“ River replied giving her hand a squeeze. “I know what it does Doctor, you sentimental idiot, you couldn’t just let me die, could you? I’ll have to go back eventually, you know, unless you want a paradox ripping time apart… again…“ She knew the sad truth behind what the Doctor had done. As much as she appreciated the sentiment, there was more heartbreak to come for them, it couldn’t be avoided. And yet, she was grateful for every moment she got to spend with her husband… wife.

“But not for a while. How about we deal with all that when we get out of here.“ The Doctor suggested, trying not to think about what she was implying.

“Sounds like a good idea.“ River nodded looking around for an escape route again.

“You are not going anywhere, Doctor, not just yet. Mind you, we probably haven’t got long to have this conversation. Your teleport, I’m sure they’ll be able to trace it.“ Clara pointed out.

“I don’t think there are any guards at the door.“ River said and the Doctor nodded, having come to the same conclusion.

“Run?“ The Doctor suggested as they inched away from Clara.

“Let’s.“ River agreed and they bolted to the door but Clara had other ideas. The Raven took off and sailed in front of them, barring the door.

“I don’t think so.“ Clara hummed and the tattoos dissolved, swirling into to air and jolted forward. The dark smoke struck the back of River’s neck forming a quantum lock.

“No!“ The Doctor shouted whipping back around to Clara.

“Do I have your attention now, Doctor? I said we need to have a conversation.“ Clara crossed her arms in front of her chest expectantly.

“Take it off her.“ The Doctor yelled taking a threatening step towards Clara who grinned:

“I will, eventually, if you agree to help me with a little something.“

“What?“ The Doctor asked and looked to River with great worry. River touched the back of her neck her expression darkening. Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“I would like your help, Doctor. Your wife assures me one only needs to ask for your help? Well, I thought it would be more convincing if I had your wife as collateral.“ Clara revealed and the Doctor squared her jaw.

“What do you want?“

“You’ve been here long enough now to know, Doctor, that this is not a nice place. You’ve been to the streets, you’ve seen the poverty, the state of the Empire? Perhaps you will reconsider what we talked about before?“ Clara smiled.

“You want to topple the Emperor.“ The Doctor concluded with a sigh.

“I’d never be able to do it by myself as you know and it’s unlikely I’ll ever be able to convince her that I am a far more suitable match for her… so I’m left with few options.“ Clara confirmed with a shrug.

“I won’t kill anyone, not even her…“ The Doctor retorted firmly.

“I realise that and I don’t expect you to. What I do need you to do is play a role. It looks like you have been having a practice run already. There is a ceremony tomorrow, celebrating the Emperor’s return to Gallifrey, it’s the most important holiday. That is why the Emperor has been so eager to get information out of you so quickly, I presume she was trying to announce the next big chapter for the Empire tomorrow.“ Clara explained crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“That’s never going to happen, I would sooner die than tell you how…“ The Doctor shook her head. River looked on in confusion. Who was this mysterious Emperor they were referring to? It sounded like the Doctor had been here a while already and was one step ahead of her.

“Oh I know and I’ve accepted that. I want you to announce the next big chapter in the history of the Empire in her stead tomorrow.“ Clara clarified and the Doctor understood:

“Transfer power to you.“

“Exactly. Not so difficult, is it? Small price to pay for your wife’s life isn’t it?“ Clara glanced to River who still had confusion painted all over her face.

“And how are you going get rid of the Emperor?“ The Doctor asked which seemed to be the one big catch.  

“You leave that to me. You just be back here tomorrow at noon. I would keep you here but you’ve ruined it now with your teleport trick. It they find you here we’re both done for, they need to see you fleeing the palace so the don’t suspect me.“ Clara sighed, what an inconvenience. Likelihood was they had traced the teleport by now and were on their way here. She had to wrap this up.

“And what if I don’t agree?“ The Doctor huffed.

“You will do this for me, Doctor, or your wife, who was so very fortunate to get a second lease on life, will die.“ Clara shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s really a very easy decision to make. I will contact you with the details, my Raven will find you.“

“Take off the lock.“ The Doctor demanded, her voice firm.

“Once I can be sure of your cooperation.“ Clara smiled giving River a wink.

“Fine, alright, I’ll do it, but you leave her alone.“ The Doctor threatened.

“I’ll take the mark off her once it’s done.“ Clara clapped her hands together in excitement.

“No! You take it off her and you take it off her NOW!“ The Doctor yelled jabbing her finger at her.

“Alright, fine. Just remember I can put it back whenever I please.“ Clara huffed and with a wave of her hand, the chrono lock disappeared from River’s neck. River gave a sigh of relief.

“And you take it off the Monk.“ The Doctor went on, remembering why she had come here in the first place.

“The Monk?“ Clara frowned confused.

“Sign of good faith. If you want my help, do it.“ The Doctor insisted.

“Alright, fine, don’t care about him either way.“ Clara gave another wave of her hand. It wasn’t like the Emperor had any way of finding out about this.

“Doctor, you can’t help her…“ River spoke up. She wasn’t sure what exactly was going on but the Doctor was being blackmailed into doing something she didn’t want to do, and that in itself was enough information for her to protest.

“It’s a matter of the lesser evil, River. You haven’t met the Emperor yet… and her wife.“ The Doctor replied, hoping she never would come across them. “They deserve it.“

“Yes they do, Doctor. I’m glad you have come to your senses.“ Clara agreed.

“When it’s done, I’m taking the TARDIS. You can’t fly it anyway. I will need it to find a way home.“ The Doctor realised this was the right moment to bargain. If she wanted to find a way back to her own universe, the TARDIS would be her best bet.

“Fine.“ Clara smiled at her graciously. She had no use for the TARDIS anyway. The Emperor and her wife were the only ones that could fly her. She couldn’t imagine the Doctor would even find a way of using it. “See, the things we can accomplish when we work together.“

“Then you have yourself a deal.“ The Doctor nodded. Her best and only cause of action right now was to agree. She could reevaluate her options later when her and River had got to relative safety.

“Now, I suggest you go, before the guards turn up.“ Clara engaged a screen on the wall, surveillance of the corridor outside.

“River…“ The Doctor grabbed her wife’s hand again but Clara cut in:

“…will be my honoured guest until tomorrow. No harm will come to her, I need her as assurance and you know I wouldn’t harm her, else I would have nothing to pressure you with.“ The Raven squawked for emphasis. “You know I’m right.“ She extended her hand to River. “Unless you’d like that chrono lock back?“

“I’ll be fine, Sweetie.“ River gave her wife’s hand a squeeze before letting go and joining Clara though ignoring her hand. “I’m sure Clara and I have a lot to talk about.“ Perhaps she could find out more about this place.

“We’ll braid each other’s hair and drink champagne, nothing for you to worry about, Doctor.“ Clara smirked at the Doctor who balled her fists, feeling anxious. She didn’t like the idea of leaving River here but under the circumstances she might not have another choice. She glanced to the screen and spotted guards heading their way. They were running out of time. “Now be a dear and make sure they see you as you bolt down the corridor so they leave us alone in here.“ Clara said going her a little wave.

“Everything will be fine, River, I promise, I will come back for you.“ The Doctor looked to her wife who gave her a little smile.

“Well, you better, what good was all that business with the extraction chamber if you don’t.“ River winked. “Go before they catch up with you.“

“I will be back.“ The Doctor insisted. There was so much she wanted to say, she had played it out so many times in her mind of what she would say if she ever got to see River again, but now there was no time. And very little hope. But she took what she could from the little smile and nod River gave her. There was time for words later.

The Doctor had hardly pulled the door shut behind her, when she heard voices. She hurried towards the hidden passage way but hung on by the corner where she could still see the door to Clara’s rooms. She couldn’t allow for River to get caught. If they had in fact traced her teleport signal, they would be searching for her there. When she realised the guards indeed headed straight for the door, she knocked over a nearby bust that crashed to the ground and drew their attention. Calling “Oi! Over here.“ would have been too obvious, they couldn’t realise she was drawing their attention on purpose. When she was sure they’d seen her, she bolted down the corridor. Luckily, she knew more than one secret shortcut to the city below.

——

Clara knocked over a table and some vases, creating traces of a struggle. She picked up a shard from the broken vase and cut her own arm, barely flinching. River raised her eyebrows, concluding that she had to be very scared of the Emperor to go to such lengths to not be found out.

“I don’t think I have to explain to you what will happen if anyone finds you in here.“ Clara caught the questioning expression on River’s face and ushered her to a small room further into her quarters.

“No, you don’t but there is something you do need to explain to me: the Emperor, who is she? And why do you need the Doctor?“ River asked.

“Miss Oswald, please open up.“ There was knocking on the door.

“We haven’t got time for this, get in here and not a sound.“ Clara pushed her into the room and locked the door. River didn’t struggle, she didn’t trust Clara but she trusted the Doctor and if she was concerned for her safety should anyone find her, she know she should try her best to hide. She looked around the room, a small spare bedroom by the looks of it. Nothing much to it, nothing that she could fashion a weapon out of if needed. The vase on the dresser appeared to be her best bet so she grabbed it and stood against the door, pressing her ear to it. She had to find out more about what was going on here.

“Emperor…“ Clara’s voice was distant but clear.

“Don’t even start, Clara! We know she was here. Using my own TARDIS, she’s going to pay for that!“

River froze when she recognised a voice that sounded exactly like the Doctor’s, only with an icy edge to it. Suddenly, Clara’s demands were making a lot more sense. The puzzle pieces were falling into place and River didn’t care for the picture they were revealing.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

Forever

Author’s note: Please let me know if you’d like a Thirteen x Reader multi chapter fic <3

The sound of thunder cracked from the sky above you, the ocean waves roaring below your dangling feet. The wind blew your hair from your face and the smell of rain filled your nostrils. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself the feeling of the cold air to sweep across your body.

You could almost feel the smile coming from the person next to you, their own hand touching yours just barely. The five suns were setting in the seas distance, allowing a golden glow to rise up from the horizon, bathing your skin in what was left of it's daily warmth.

"It's so beautiful here," You heard yourself whisper, your eyes still closed. The person moved their hand closer to yours, wrapping their pinky finger around your own, making a small smile cross your face. Your heart stuttered in your chest, the feeling of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

This was so different then what it had been. She was so different then what she had been in her previous regeneration's. You had loved The Doctor for so long, back when she was a wild haired man in a trench coat. You had thought, for a while, that just maybe there was a chance that the feeling was recuperated. But after your last adventure together, or misadventure, with the grey haired Scotsman, you realized that maybe there wasn't room in the universe for you and The Doctor to ever be together.

And then, just when you thought you had moved on, she had shown up on your doorstep with a new face and a new smile and her eyes gleamed adoration for you. She asked you to come with her and you could never say no to The Doctor.    Not now, not in a million years.

She told you about her current companions, ones that she had dropped off somewhere and intended to get them once she had taken you somewhere. But she said she hoped that you would get to meet them for yourself, because she wanted you to stay, just like old times.

You had a life back on Earth. An apartment, a pet, friends. You knew that you couldn't just drop and leave it. But you never had been great at saying no to the Time Lord.

"I've never-" She began but suddenly cut herself off. You could feel her pulling away from you, but your finger gripped her own tightly.

"Don't pull away from me Doctor. You're one of my oldest friends, you can talk to me," You tried to reassure, opening your eyes and turning to face her.

The afternoon glow highlighted her short blonde hair, it made her brown eyes sparkle, it made you fall deeper in love with her. You tried to look away from her but you realized, as she looked out towards the ocean, that there was absolutely no way you could.

She cleared her throat and turned to look at you, the tiniest bit of a smile on her face, "I've never been good at this sort of thing," She stood up and began to pace, running a hand through her hair.

You followed suit and stood up, dusting off your pants and watching the internal battle she fought within.

"You were there. You were always there," She began, still pacing and moving her hands around, "And I have no idea how I've never seen it before now. You were there with Rose and Martha and Donna and the Ponds and Clara and Bill, but I never saw it," She scrunched up her nose, "Well I think I saw it but I just ignored it because I'm old," She turned to face you, her features serious, "I'm so impossibly old. Do you understand that?"

"Doctor, what are you talking about?" You asked, worry crossing your features.

"I'm old and I'm an alien and one day I'm going to have to watch you die and maybe that's the reason I chose not to see it," She continued to pace, her eyes showing the sadness she felt in her body.

"Doc wha-" You were cut off by her suddenly standing in front of you.

"Because I love you. And it terrifies me because you're so human and when you're with me you're always throwing yourself into these different types of danger and if I lose you then-" She slowly raised her hands to your cheeks, "-I've lost so much already and I don't want to lose you,"

Two tears fell down your cheeks as your heart fluttered, you watched the wind blow through her hair and moved your hand to brush it away from her face, making sure that you could see it fully, "Doctor, you are worth everything. I don't remember a time when I didn't love you," You whispered, watching as her eyes glistened.

"You can have me for the rest of your life, but I can't have you for the rest of mine. And it breaks my hearts," She whispered, moving her forehead to rest gently on your own.

"I'll love you forever Doctor," You whispered, watching as tears trickled from her eyes, "No matter how long we have together,"

You felt her lips gently press into yours, her tears mixed with your own leaving a salty taste on your lips. She moved her hands to cup your neck and deepen the kiss, moving your hair behind your ears, "Forever," She whispered into your lips, moving her hands down your arms and lacing your fingers together.

You both turned to face back out the ocean, your heads leaning against the other with your fingers interlocked. Your lips plump and swollen, but your heart thumping ecstatically in your chest. "My Doctor," You whispered, smiling as the Time Lord let  out a small sigh of content, her fingers gripping your own tighter.

"We still have a while before we have to pick up the others," She mentioned casually, "And I think I know how to make ice tea,"

You let out a laugh as you pulled The Doctor towards the TARDIS, "I can't wait,"

[sheliesshattered]

Hello! I'm very intrigued by Gallifrey, Someday WIP. Is there some lil' details and spoilers you may share about it? Thank you!

Gallifrey, Someday is one of a couple of different in-progress fics where I’m playing around with a more abbreviated style of storytelling -- short scenes with larger time gaps between them that convey a mood and a series of events, but don’t follow the characters day to day or minute to minute like most of my fics do. So far I haven’t actually finished any of the stories I’ve tried writing in that style, but it’s a technique that intrigues me, one I’d like to achieve some level of skill with.

This particular fic is an alternate ending for Death In Heaven, where the final conversation in the coffee shop goes a completely different direction. The whole thing would go AU after that, bypassing Last Christmas and s9 completely. I have a couple of thousand words written for it, but I’m still not entirely sure where I want it to go just yet. 

Here are a couple of the finished scenes as a little taste, starting with the opening sequence:

“Danny’s dead,” Clara says, stopping the Doctor’s babbling mid-sentence, her large eyes fixed on her fingers, fidgeting as restlessly as his insides.

“But the bracelet—”

“He figured it out, but he,” she shakes her head, tries again. “He sent someone else back in his place. A boy whose death he felt responsible for. It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be here, Doctor,” she says, finally meeting his gaze again. “You don’t want to make the commute, and I don’t want to be here, so let’s just go.”

“Go?”

“To Gallifrey,” she clarifies. “Or anywhere else you like. Just— just away. I don’t want to come back here.”

“You’re serious?”

“Very.”

It takes him a moment to recalibrate for this. He came because she asked him to, utterly certain that this was it, the final goodbye for them. A happy ending for Clara, one he couldn’t — shouldn’t, wouldn’t — weigh down with his own grief. But here she is, eyes wide and sincere, asking to run away with him, and there would only ever be one answer for Clara when she looks at him like that.

“Alright,” he says, throat dry, and watches her break into a wide smile, some of the sadness receding from her eyes, and knows he made the right decision.

--

It’s only later — hours later, everything packed from her flat, a few quick visits for hasty goodbyes and false explanations, one last stop for chips because she means what she says about not coming back to Earth, and has been a frequent critic of the rest of the universe’s ability to properly fry potatoes — that he realises that he lied to her about Gallifrey, and then agreed to take her there.

Or anywhere else you like, she said, and he decides to start with that.

--

“You know,” he says, once she’s finished fitting the remnants of her Earth life into her room on the TARDIS, “this is a time machine. We don’t have to go directly to Gallifrey, we could stop off a few places first, no one would notice.”

“Take the long way ‘round?” she asks, smiling up at him.

“The scenic route,” he agrees, watching her from the corner of his eye.

“Well, go on then,” she says easily. “Show me some planets.”

--

And then this scene, from later in the story:

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Clara says, looking at him expectantly. There’s something wrong with her voice, her accent gone all garbly. 

“What?” he says, his eyebrows finding a confused scowl.

“Did I not say it right?” she asks, voice back to normal and sounding concerned. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” she says again, emphatically, each syllable formed intentionally. 

It’s only then that he realises that she’s speaking Gallifreyan, that he’s grown so used to the TARDIS’s translation circuits over so many hundreds of years of not hearing his native tongue that he completely missed it the first time around. He spots the book in her hand a moment later, a crisp paperback with the sort of ridiculous, overly long title that tells him it was produced specifically by the TARDIS for Clara’s benefit, rather than actually published somewhere in the universe at a real point in spacetime.

Well, that makes one of them that’s convinced she’ll have a reason to speak Gallifreyan, someday.

He repeats it back to her, the words tripping off his tongue like music, and is rewarded with Clara’s beaming smile. She tries again, less garbled, and again, striving to match his cadence. 

“It’s always wonderful to see you,” he tells her, a slight shift in conjugation changing the meaning from one of first encounter to that of meeting a beloved friend after an absence.

She catches the difference, book flying open to decypher what he’s said, and he wonders fleetingly just whose benefit the TARDIS had in mind when she produced what is likely the only English to Gallifreyan phrasebook in existence. 

This fic would need a lot more work before it would be ready to post, but I’ve had a lot fun trying out the slightly more pulled back storytelling style. I would really love to finish this at some point. Thank you for asking about it, my dear! 

Ask me anything about my WIP fics!

[thetruthlsoutthere]

Possibilities/Comparisons & Differences & Parallels with -A

ok so this might be a bit of a thing so im gonna put the read more thing BUT IMPORTANT THING: in what you read below the read more line, i am putting it out there bluntly and truthfully as i have said and feel outloud as well as told others this same line because they are believers in this doctor who is real thing: I never have nor do i nor will i ever want someone else’s place in life let alone their spot, if you want to call it, in another’s life. Each person is their own and you cant change who you are, you can’t be someone else because you’re not them. Whatever and Whoever I am, is all i want and like anyone believing any of this is real, i too want to be completely in all/any of their lives, even if its just working along side, spending time with and developing any sort of relationship with them here on Earth. Anything more than that, I am here for them and other loved ones in anyway they want. If that means traveling and people want me along or working for any such organizations, i accept that but i dont expect it. I am myself and all i want to know if what and who I fully am as time passes.

I will say this again: these are possibilities, comparisons, parallels. I am NOT stating these as facts and i refuse to come off in any such way that puts me in a selfish negative light. Anyone is entitled to think however they feel off the things i put below the read more, i am merely just stating things ok? ok.

NOW, parallels and comparisons and differences and possibilities you may ask, with what or who? Clara Oswald, the Impossible Girl.

1) Where Clara lost her mother when she was young but still has her dad, i lost my dad when i was young but still have my mom.

2) the dream of the real version of the 11th incarnation of the Doctor in the backyard of my house, the adventure action that ensued, we were running together in the direction of the woods and he said in a urgent/desperate tone of voice with seriousness “You need to remember me Clara” or have to but it was words like that & it was just me and him in the dream.

3) we look eerily similar in most if not all aspects.

4) Where she was an only child, i have 5 older brothers and 1 older sister.

Note: taking the differences into account, there is this theory that they exist so that the similarities wouldnt be noticed and the differences would make it far fetched, names changed and things to protect the truth ya know? 

5) with waking reality to sleeping realoty, the sense of having an old soul and living/having countless other lives too / with Clara being impossible??

6) from meaningful blogs to quotes to songs to videos that pop up in ways they dont make sense to be showing themselves because anything viewed it appears with, they are completely unrelated to each other/ they keep popping up and with this THEORY, especially with CLara, Clara & the Doctor, especially the line “You are the only mystery worth solving”

7) with number six: Clara, things involving the Tardis and this life being mentioned when said videos and other stuff are completely unrelated to each other.

8) in public, hearing ‘Clara’ by others.

9) her whole thing with ravens {those and or crows} are the most kinds of birds constantly seen, heard by me and are around me.  {other birds too but relative to other meanings they stand for} {the meanings of seeing and hearing these birds, themselves}

10) everything with the leaves : fall/autumn has always been my favorite season and i always see more big leaves then the little ones, especially the ovate leaves and the maple leaves, especially in orangish redish brown colors. This ofc the leaves thing when it comes to Clara.

11) Where she was going to be a teacher and going between options before choosing, i did the same thing but i chose something else ; i had wonderings and thoughts about being a teacher and people told me that as a suggestion like they could see me doing it. And whenever i thought about it, i thought about doing the younger kids which is what Clara did.

12) Like with 11, Where Clara babysits and is good with kids, i have babysat and being an aunt, i have been told im great with kids and would be a good mom.

13) the kind of aura/vibe Clara would give as an old soul/restless/always here or there/here but not really here/countless lives/etc: A person who believes in this doctor who is real thing , is also really intuitive says and went into detail about how and why i give off that same vibe and how she only ever felt it from one person before, but who was that person?

14) were eerily similar in personality / things we say / act/carry ourselves, ideals and beliefs.

15) the dream with the Eleventh Doctor with him telling me “You need to/have to remember me Clara!”... what if instead of the Doctor forgetting, i forgot as he intended?

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

This will be part 1 but additional information to add will be in a future part {s} bc i don’t want this one too long.