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regenderate-fic · 2 years

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All the Quiet Nights You Bear: Chapter 25

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: General Ship: Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, Yasmin Khan/Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor/Rose Tyler/Yasmin Khan, Past Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler Characters: Thirteenth Doctor, Yasmin Khan, Rose Tyler, Najia Khan, Hakim Khan, Sonya Khan, Dan Lewis, Jack Harkness, Ryan Sinclair Series: And We’re Not Out of the Tunnel Word Count (Chapter): 2,904 Other Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst, Emotional, Disabled Character, Chronic Illness, Bad Wolf Rose, COVID-19, Self-Quarantine, Domestic, Autistic Characters, Polyamory, OT3, Slow Burn, Disability Read on AO3 / Read in order

Summary: Rose Tyler-Noble jumps out of her parallel universe, leaving her husband and family behind in the hopes that being back in the right universe will improve her well-being.

Yasmin Khan is out for lunch with the Doctor when she sees a blonde woman sitting on the sidewalk, crying.

The Doctor, Yaz, and Rose travel back to Sheffield to see Yaz’s family, but they have to leave the TARDIS so it can reset, and when they come back, it’s gone. The police have confiscated it, and they want to see proof of ownership before they give it back. And the Doctor left her psychic paper on board. And they’ve landed in March of 2020, just before everything shuts down.

Stranded in Sheffield, they have no choice but to get a flat and quarantine together. Which, when you have three emotionally volatile people who care for each other more than they’re willing to admit, can be complicated.

(Sequel to And Still I Will Live Here, but hopefully readable out of context. Updating on Saturdays and Wednesdays.)

Yaz is back on Gallifrey, back in the room where she found the Doctor before, collapsed on the ground. She looks around. For half a second, she expects to see the Mouri— but no, that was a different, albeit similar, room. This one— well, Yaz doesn’t know what this one is.

The Citadel. It’s the Doctor’s voice, inside her mind. On Gallifrey.

Yaz looks to her right and sees Rose, her eyes wide. Without even thinking about it, she takes Rose’s hand. Somehow, even in this telepathic dreamscape, it’s warm.

There’s the sound of talking to their right, and the Doctor and the Master stumble in, arguing. The Doctor— asking why, why would he destroy Gallifrey, why would he give it up— and the Master— talking about the place, the history, the Time Lords. The truth.

Glowing white rings spring up around the Doctor. She’s suspended in them, her body vertical but limp, her head lolling to the side. The Master continues his monologue, but all Yaz can focus on is the Doctor. She looks— more helpless than Yaz has ever seen her, really. A hopeless and sorrowful love wells up in her.

And then the scene shifts— or no, dissolves— and there’s a spike of pain in her mind, one that goes away as quickly as it comes.

Sorry, the Doctor’s voice in the back of her mind tells her. Trying to compartmentalize a little. Don’t want to hurt you.

“It’s okay,” Yaz says out loud. Rose squeezes her hand. They’re in a total blankness now, an uncharted space. The Doctor is standing in what might as well be the middle of it, the Master’s voice surrounding her. Are you suffering comfortably?

Images start to flash as the Master launches into a fairy tale, only Yaz realizes too late that it’s not a fairy tale. It’s an origin myth. No, not a myth.

It’s the Doctor.

The child— found, raised, regenerating.

Abused. Exploited.

Lost.

It sinks in, heavy in Yaz’s chest: this is the Doctor’s secret. Her most closely guarded self. This is what she’s been hiding, and what she’s been chasing after.

She watches as the Doctor unravels, screaming at the Master. Why would they lie? The words rip into Yaz, cut into her, and she yearns to reach out, hold the Doctor, help her.

But the Doctor is alone. So much more alone than Yaz thought possible, suspended in the ether. Her eyes are red, her jaw set, and still the Master continues to torment her. He shows her one last scene— the child, older, different, being recruited into Division. The word crashes into Yaz’s mind, settling in with all the times the Doctor’s mentioned it, talked about needing to find Division, looking for Division. As the scene fades, Yaz finally, finally, understands why.

There’s no record of it. No record of the Doctor’s time there, what she did, what she didn’t do. And— the Doctor doesn’t remember it.

The scene fades into a cold gray room. The Doctor, curled up on a slab in the center, her eyes wide open, staring at the wall. The room is covered in tally marks.

The scene fades again, this time into a space that looks suspiciously like a TARDIS console room, although some instinct— or maybe just the Doctor’s subconscious, rubbing up against Yaz’s— tells Yaz that it isn’t. There’s a tree in the center, spreading pink foliage above the space, wires feeding into it. It’s incongruous with the rest of the space, which is mostly a gunmetal gray. And then there’s the Doctor, and an alien creature Yaz doesn’t recognize, with a wrinkled bald head and many tentacles in place of a mouth.

“Ood,” Rose murmurs.

An old woman sweeps into the room, her affect motherly, even warm. Or— it would be warm, if Yaz didn’t know, somewhere deep in her heart, with cold certainty, who this woman was.

The Doctor’s voice confirms it. Tecteun .

She has a lot to say to the Doctor. She explains Division. She explains the Flux— which is new information, for Yaz. But— when Tecteun tells the Doctor that the Flux was made to stop her, that Tecteun was willing to destroy the entire universe just to keep the Doctor under her control, Yaz understands why the Doctor never told her. There’s so much tied up in all this— the Doctor’s past, her quest for it. Yaz wishes she knew sooner, but— it’s so immense. She understands, suddenly, why the Doctor didn’t tell her.

The Doctor argues with Tecteun, yells at her. It’s pure, raw emotion, tearing, cutting, stopped by nothing. And Tecteun stays maddeningly calm throughout. It’s painful, twisting in Yaz’s gut.

And then Tecteun says it.

They're your experiments, just as you were mine.

Tecteun means her , Yaz realizes with a jolt. According to Tecteun, she is one of the Doctor’s experiments. Yaz’s mind races. Could that be true? She chose to come along. She chooses it every time she enters the TARDIS. She’s had plenty of chances to leave. Trips to see her family. Trips to visit Ryan and Graham. She could’ve left anytime.

And— it’s not an experiment, is it, to have friends? Maybe it could be, Yaz thinks. But only to someone whose idea of connection is so twisted, so warped, that they’re incapable of thinking about other people as anything else.

The Doctor isn’t perfect. There have been points, if Yaz is being honest with herself, where the Doctor’s treated her unfairly, even badly. But still, Yaz has seen nothing in the Doctor that makes her think the Doctor sees her as anything other than a human being.

The scene jumps, and Yaz snaps back to attention. They’ve moved forward in the narrative, just a little, to the Doctor staring at a glass-encased pocketwatch. Tecteun comes up behind her, with the same insidious calm. Slowly, Yaz realizes: this watch, somehow, holds the Doctor’s memories.

And then Tecteun comes apart.

There’s one more scene. It’s back in the TARDIS. Yaz knows this one: the Doctor is standing alone, but Yaz is eighty percent sure she herself has just left, off to show Dan the bedrooms. The Doctor, on her own, has let her guard down: there’s a single tear making its way down her face. She pulls the watch out of her pocket. Dangles it over a hole in the console. Asks the TARDIS to keep it safe. Not give it to her unless she really, really asks.

And then the console shifts, imperceptibly but undeniably. It’s the lighting, maybe, or the ambient sounds, or the way the Doctor has straightened up and is now looking directly at Yaz and Rose.

They’re out of the memory. Now they’re just in her head.

The Doctor’s dream-self’s breath hitches, and for a moment Yaz thinks she’s about to speak. But she doesn’t. Instead, for just a moment, an invisible barrier lifts, and suddenly Yaz is feeling everything: anger, pain, sorrow, hurt, but over the top of it all, love. A greater love than Yaz knew was possible. Love for Rose— and love for Yaz.

Yaz never realized, before this moment, how much she really, truly believed she would never be loved. And further, how much she really, truly believed the Doctor couldn’t possibly return her feelings. But it’s the opposite: the Doctor magnifies her feelings, enhances them, experiences them far over the top of what Yaz could possibly imagine. Yaz feels it welling up in her chest, escaping in her breath, everything she feels and everything the Doctor feels all at once.

And then it’s over. The feelings dissipate, the Doctor’s hand drops from Yaz’s cheek, and Yaz opens her eyes back in the flat to see the Doctor sitting steadfast, tears filling her eyes, rolling down her face.

“That’s it,” she says, her voice breaking. “Everything I haven’t told you. I think.”

Yaz doesn’t really know what to say. Faced with the full enormity of— well, everything— she’s at a loss.

“I understand,” the Doctor says. “If you don’t want to be around me anymore.”

“What?” Yaz and Rose ask together.

“Why would we want that?” Yaz asks.

“Well, you know,” the Doctor says, looking down. “It’s like she said, right? Tecteun. I’m just taking advantage of you, aren’t I? My experiments?” She says the word bitterly.

“No,” Yaz says, emphatic. “Doctor, you—“ She cuts off. She’s still at a loss.

Fortunately, Rose always knows what to say.

“I don’t like the implication that I haven’t got free will,” she says. “You asked me, back when we started traveling together, whether I wanted to come, and I ran to the TARDIS.”

“Only after I came back and told you about the time travel,” the Doctor murmurs. “I manipulated you.”

Rose shakes her head. “I wanted to go with you from the start. Anyway, even if you had manipulated me, which you really, really didn’t, we stopped back at my mum’s all the time. I could’ve stayed behind whenever. C’mon, Doctor. I might’ve been young and stupid, back then, but I still made my own choices. And I don’t regret them.”

“Rose.” The Doctor’s voice is forceful. “Your whole body changed. Because of me. You’re different, forever, because you traveled with me. How is that not my fault? How does that make you not my experiment?”

“First of all,” Rose says, “I chose to look into the heart of the TARDIS. You literally told me not to! You told me to let the TARDIS die out on a street corner, become some random old box, and I didn’t listen. That’s on me. And I’m glad I did it, because otherwise you’d be dead, and so would Jack.” She takes a deep breath, her voice quiet as she reaches out, her hand ghosting over the Doctor’s arm. “Don’t you remember, Doctor? It was going to overwhelm me. You took it out of me. You regenerated, just to save my life. You made it better. Not worse.”

The Doctor is silent at that.

“Anyway,” Rose says, glancing at Yaz, “as much as I’d love to keep arguing about how much of a horrible manipulator you aren’t , I think you and Yaz have a lot to talk about.” She taps the Doctor’s arm twice. “I’ll be in the living room.” And before Yaz can say anything, Rose is off the bed and picking her way across the floor to the door.

And then Yaz and the Doctor are alone. They stare at each other. The Doctor’s expression, finally, is open, full of emotion.

“You did the same thing for me,” Yaz says. “With the Mouri. You let all of time run through you, just to get us out of there. We would’ve died, if you hadn’t.”

“Can’t have a universe with no Yaz,” the Doctor says softly.

“Exactly,” Yaz says. “Doctor, I know you care about us. I saw it, just now, inside your head. Can’t argue with that.” She takes a deep breath. “There have been moments where I didn’t feel like you respected me. Or I didn’t feel like you wanted me around. Or I didn’t think you liked me like I liked you.” She pauses. “But Doctor, I’ve never felt like an experiment, or like you didn’t think of me as my own person. You were just hurting. Lots of people hurt. Doesn’t make them bad.” With a shrug, she adds, “I don’t want to feel disrespected or unwanted. But I don’t think you want me to feel that way, either.”

“I don’t,” the Doctor breathes. “Yaz, I’m so sorry. I should’ve— I should’ve told you.”

“You told me now,” Yaz says. “And Doctor, you should have told me earlier, but I really do understand why you didn’t. It’s—“ She takes a deep breath. “It’s a lot.”

The Doctor nods.

“If I’d known this is what you were going through—“ Yaz shakes her head. “I don’t know. I would’ve tried to help. Doctor, it’s okay to ask for help.”

“I couldn’t,” the Doctor says. “I just—“ She waves her arms helplessly. On instinct, Yaz catches the Doctor’s hands, holding them gently in her own.

“I know,” she says. “Doctor. You’ve been through so much more than anyone should ever go through. You’ve been conditioned to think people won’t stay with you, or people won’t love you, or whatever else it is.” Yaz takes a deep breath. This is the moment of truth, the moment she jumps off her highest cliff yet and hopes she lands in safe, warm waters. “But Doctor, I do love you. And I love you even more now I know what you’ve been through, and now I know that you’ve come out of it still trying to be kind. You deserve love, Doctor.” She takes another breath. “And you’ve got it from me. If you want it.”

The Doctor just stares at her, stunned. Yaz is freefalling. She’s afraid, for a moment, that she’s gone too far, but then she remembers what she felt in the Doctor’s mind, all that love, and her fear dissolves.

“But—“ the Doctor begins.

Yaz doesn’t let her finish. She has so much she wants to express, and in the absence of telepathy, there’s only one way she can think to do that. So before the Doctor can continue, she leans forward, nerves and boldness and love and security mixing in her stomach, and she cups the Doctor’s neck in one hand, ignoring the Doctor’s speech fizzling out, and she crashes her mouth against the Doctor’s, hoping something in her breath, her lips, her body can tell the Doctor what her words can’t.

For a moment, the Doctor doesn’t react, and Yaz is worried she’s misread things, misread the Doctor’s feelings, misread the Doctor’s tolerance for unexpected touch. Her fear spikes: what if, after all this, she ruins her relationship with the Doctor anyway?

And then the Doctor’s hand lands on Yaz’s waist, and there’s pressure against Yaz’s lips, and a tension Yaz didn’t even know she was holding, didn’t know she’d been holding for the past seven years, suddenly releases. She pulls the Doctor closer, her hand tangling in blonde hair. It’s very different from kissing Rose: with Rose, it was comfort, something shared between the two of them. Romantic, but in a steady, familiar sense, the sort of thing that felt inevitable. With the Doctor, it’s a crescendo, a culmination of everything in Yaz’s very being. It’s something she’s wanted for years, whether she knew it or not, and it’s something she never thought she’d be brave enough to ask for.

(She does, on the other hand, make up her mind to buy both Rose and the Doctor some good chapstick. She thinks it could go a long way. Especially if the three of them are going to do much more of this.)

And then she pulls away, just a little, her face still inches from the Doctor’s. The Doctor’s eyes are closed, still, her lips barely parted. When she opens her eyes, she’s looking at Yaz with a heartbreaking mix of love and fear and sadness. Yaz recognizes it: she feels the same.

“And you’re sure you want this?” the Doctor asks. “I mean— me?”

Yaz can’t help it. She laughs.

“I am so far beyond sure, it’s not even funny,” she says. “Seriously, Doctor. You have to ask?”

But the Doctor does. Yaz can see it in her eyes, all the doubt. Yaz always sort of thought the Doctor had it all together— she was thousands of years old, after all, and knew just about everything worth knowing, and surely, somewhere in there, she had gotten rid of any passing insecurities. But now, having seen inside the Doctor’s mind, Yaz understands. The years have only added to the Doctor’s insecurities, not healed them. And now the Doctor’s been sitting on raw, unprocessed trauma, convinced she couldn’t tell anyone for the risk of losing them.

“I want this,” she says firmly.

The Doctor nods. She still doesn’t look fully convinced, but Yaz figures it’ll come in time. She brushes her hand over the Doctor’s cheek, wiping at her tears. And then she presses her lips to the Doctor’s one more time for good measure.

“I want this,” she says, pulling away. And then her own flicker of doubt resurfaces. “I mean— if you do.”

“Yasmin Khan,” the Doctor breathes, her eyes shining, her hand still resting on Yaz’s waist. “You’re brilliant.”

Yaz grins, exhilarated. “You’re not so bad yourself.” She pulls the Doctor into a hug, a fierce, real hug, crushing their bodies together. Her voice muffled by the Doctor’s hoodie, she adds, “Thank you for showing us what happened.”

“I’m glad I did, it turns out,” the Doctor admits.

“Knew you would be.” Yaz pulls back, her hands still resting loosely on the Doctor’s back, the Doctor’s hands still on her. She grins, a rush of affection running through her. “All right, then. When’s the last time you had a proper meal? Chicken nuggets don’t count.”

“Yesterday,” the Doctor mumbles, looking away. It’s got to be around midday now: that’s at least eighteen hours.

“All right.” Yaz slides off the bed, holding her hand out for the Doctor. “Let’s get you some real food.”

The Doctor takes her hand.

“If you insist,” she says.

Yaz smiles. “I do, actually.” She opens the door and pulls the Doctor through.

#doctor who #my fic #fanfiction #all the quiet nights you bear #and we're not out of the tunnel #thirteenth doctor #rose tyler #yasmin khan #thirteenrose #thirteen x rose #doctorrose #thasmin #thirteen x yaz #yaz x rose #thirteen x yaz x rose

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gothhabiba · 5 years

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mfw I see Hell Professor cited in a text on authorship that I’m reading @ Oxford........... smh

#Let Me Live #a more arrogant obnoxious condescending hypocritical man I have NEVER #had the displeasure of being taught by #it was very difficult to keep myself open to anything of value that he said #because the rest of it was so smarmy and patronising that I wanted to tune out entirely lol #personal #Najia goes to university #Najia goes to grad school #hell professor

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ssaalexblake · 3 years

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Anyway, I feel like DW consistently reminds you that you Can't have a responsible relationship with the doctor as a companion. No matter what flavour the doctor companion relationship takes, no matter how much anybody tries, it can't be done. You either get the doctor Or a stable home life, you don't get it both ways.

Amy, before she got all her past back wasn't shirking Much when she ran off with 11. But they made a point of saying 'actually... Rory'. When Amy does get her past back, it's pointed out that as a couple Amy and Rory are notoriously unreliable to their friend group, and that they do know this and are hesitant to include them in important life events because of this (Amy's friend wants her to be a bridesmaid but is reluctant to ask because Amy can't be relied upon to be present).

I use Amy and Rory as an example because the doctor was trying his absolute hardest to make sure these two had a normal life, a good relationship with their own humanity, and let them live normally a lot.

And yet. It didn't work, Still. Amy and Rory start to commit to earth things Only when they say they are going to soon tell the doctor they're done. They've grown up. Effectively, the doctor merely took over a decade in short bursts instead of an intense couple of years.

The doctor leaves trails of disasters behind them, frankly. Even when the doctor and the companion Are fine the family is almost inevitably bought into it negatively. Think if Jackie and Mickey. The kids Clara cares for almost get converted to cybermen BC they caught Clara out and blackmailed them into a time travel trip.

There are more examples.

Anyway, as for right now, Najia isn't happy with Yaz and this blonde woman, she is suspicious Yaz keeps being sent away. Yaz IS shirking her work and home life to a huge degree.

Ryan, who saw this whole thing as a kind of post school travel opportunity I think, didn't Realise he was damaging his home life till can you hear me? When he saw his friend suffering and realised he'd run off for fun with other mates and didn't think about the old ones. The conversation he and Yaz have at the end of the ep is Vitally important to their personalities and development yet gets ignored for, honestly, a much less narratively complex moment because people were mad 13 is unsure how to comfort Graham.

Ryan realised that he's not off having harmless adventures, realised his patchy communication and lies weren't working. Realised it actually Is impossible to do this without damaging other parts of his life that he genuinely values. He is swept up in the last 3 eps of s12 but he made his choice, really, in cyhm?.

The Closest to a healthy relationship with travelling any companion has, is, actually, Graham. But Graham's not a kid, he's a retiree with more freedom, no mentioned family other than Ryan and no pressure to be constantly available to his peers because the era of text and email isn't his demographic. He gets away with it!

Except the second he finds out he has a reason at home to stay, he quits on the spot to stay with Ryan, his priority, his Family. He is older and wiser and Understood off the bat that staying on the TARDIS would be a disservice to those he owes, in this case: Ryan.

I feel like nu!who goes out of its way to point out that the doctor does have a negative effect on the companions normal lives. Even when it's not extreme, even when 11 was determined to give Amy and Rory normalcy as well as the universe, he failed.

Ryan's arc is a coming of age story and part of that involved Noticing this and deciding he was finished and would stay in his normal life. I know often Yaz is (for good reason) compared to Martha, but Ryan has His similarities with her too that I've not really seen mentioned.

As for where they go from here (and assuming whatever they had planned hasn't been cut for covid) I actually kind of think Yaz is going to have a lot of trouble next season. In the s12 premiere her family were suspicious and worried, after what she was like in those ten months I imagine it's only gotten worse.

The doctor and companions home lives don't Mix. They never have and never will. The closest to ok the doctor's gotten imo, was with a retiree but... It's not like DW is keen on those demographics, is it?

#dw shit #my 2 cents #it is inherently unhealthy to irriesponsible on a scale and some relationships #are extreme and some are jusy questionable but... its Never healthy bc it cannot be!#its a power fantasy to think it would #whoch is what Every companion thinks it all is until #it suddenly becomes clear its not #dw meta

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ranxiaolong · 4 years

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The Woman who fell in Love with the Stars - Chapter 4 - Wish Upon a Falling Star

Chapters: [1] [2] [3] 4 [5]

Sneak Peek: Myths about shooting stars granting wishes were thoroughly untrue; shooting stars were as unreal as the wishes they were supposed to grant. A shooting star implies the star continues its trajectory. Yet those brilliant streaks of light in the sky are falling towards earth, burning up in the atmosphere before (often) disintegrating completely.

Wishes to stars were meaningless, you learned that a long time ago, but you supposed the ritual of it all still kept that slowly-dying hopeful fragment of your mind alive. If a star would grant your wishes, that would truly be a miracle. You paused, hands clasped, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed tightly shut.

You pondered, searching for something you could ask of the stars that they might grant you. If the stars felt kind—if they would give you just one thing…

Notes: Hi everyone, thank you so much for bearing with my wacky update schedule! I hope you all enjoy this chapter! (Did I really have the audacity to update this chapter on Valentine's day? You bet your pretty face I did.) ❤️

You sighed, contemplating the stars. You lay in a grassy field, a small hill not far from your flat. Whenever you wanted a few minutes of peace outside at night, that was your go-to spot. The grass was soft and the view pleasing. It was the place with the clearest vision of the night sky—your equivalent of a secret hideout.

As a light breeze passed, you pondered your love of the stars. It really was an odd choice. There were so many other things you could have fallen for, so many interesting things right there on Earth, yet what you were most fascinated by were the celestial beings in the sky.

Was this what Icarus felt when he fell in love with the Sun?

The Sun was the brightest star from your perspective, purely through close proximity, yet your fascination lay with the stars light-years away. It would have been less ridiculous to fall in love with the Sun. The Sun could be relied on, it would always appear. You should have fallen for the Sun.

Another sigh fell from your lips.

The pull of starlight was always too great for you to resist. Soft, distant, mysterious. The light of the stars always lured you into chasing more.

But the light from the stars was cold. The Sun was warm, it’s rays holding you, guiding you. The stars were distant. The light of the stars could guide only if the sky was clear. If there was anything to obscure the stars, you would be plunged into darkness. However, even on cloudy days, the Sun’s brilliant light managed to penetrate through the coverage. Even on gloomy days, the Sun would force its way through to let you see.

A bright burst of light shot across the black canvas, bringing your mind back to the stars before your eyes.

A falling star.

You brought your hands together to make a silent wish. Wishes to stars were meaningless, you learned that a long time ago, but you supposed the ritual of it all still kept that slowly-dying hopeful fragment of your mind alive. If a star would grant your wishes, that would truly be a miracle. You paused, hands clasped, eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed tightly shut.

What were you to wish for?

There was only one streak of light, so you could only wish once.

What would you wish for?

Wishing for the Doctor was unreasonable. Wishes were unreasonable by definition, but to wish for that felt like an utter extreme—like you were tempting the universe to unleash something upon you that you could not yet even imagine. It would be tempting fate.

How were you to wish upon a star that the stars would return your love?

You pondered, searching for something you could ask of the stars that they might grant you. If the stars felt kind—if they would give you just one thing…

You breathed in deeply, your wish made on the exhale leaving your lips.

You wished for the hurt to stop. It almost didn’t matter how. You just wished desperately for the pain to stop.

————

Yaz’s mother held out a drink for you to take, a fresh cup of tea in the white mug. You accepted it gratefully from your chair at her dining table.

“Thank you, Mrs. Khan.” You smiled.

“I told you, Najia is fine. You’ve been Yaz’s friend since the both of you were below my waist!”

You laughed softly, “Sorry, I’m just so used to calling you that, I’m not sure I can call you anything different.”

Najia smiled warmly at you before turning to Yasmin, a slight crease in her brow. “And Yasmin, I told you to bring your friends around more often.”

Yaz rolled her eyes.

Najia sighed, sitting next to Yaz on the couch.

“Are you seeing anyone?“

“Mum, stop.”

“What? You never tell me anything. The only way I seem to get answers is by asking people you know or pressuring you in front of them.”

Your gaze is on Yaz, whose eyes look up to yours, connecting for a moment.

There’s a strange lightness in your chest that lasts for a fleeting second.

That was odd.

Najia casts a glance between you and Yaz. “Are you two together?”

Yaz choked on her drink, sputtering.

“Mum!”

While Yaz had her coughing fit, your hand waved the thought away, a light smile on your lips, “No we aren’t together, Mrs. Khan.”

Yaz’s mother deflated slightly in disappointment for a brief moment before smiling again. “Well, regardless, feel free to stop by anytime, we don’t see you come by as often as we’d like. I feel like you don’t pop on by as often anymore. Yaz never brings her friends around much.”

Yaz groaned, cheeks still red from her lack of air, “That’s because you embarrass me every time I do bring anyone.”

You chuckled into your cup.

Yasmin’s mother waved her off, “I just get worried about you. I want to make sure you’re making friends.”

A long-suffering sigh exited Yaz’s chest. “Mum, I’m not twelve.”

“I just want to see you happy, darling.”

Sonya snorted as she walked into the room, sitting down at the table with a mug in hand, “She’s married to her work, don’t expect her to come home with anybody anytime soon.”

Yaz shot her sister a glare.

Yaz’s mother hummed, “But I would be happy if you find somebody nice to settle down with, If you want that sort of thing. I just want the best for you.”

“Mum, stop it.”

“What? I want grandkids to spoil.”

Yaz moaned into her hands, face flushed.

You laughed cheerfully at Yaz’s expense, a warm smile splitting your face, eyes crescenting with your grin.

“And you never tell me anything, for all I know, you could have been dating her.” Yasmin’s mother nodded your way.

The odd lightness bubbles forth within your breast, quickly dying out again.

Yaz’s eyes flitted to you momentarily, a darker blush settling across her cheeks as she goes back to berating her mother for always being so invested in her love life. “Mum, I told you to stop sticking your nose in my life like that. And don’t bring her into it. She has to deal with enough.”

Your giggles slowly died out in your cup as you took another sip of tea. You look up from the rim of the ceramic, catching Sonya’s gaze.

Sonya studied you with squinted eyes.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “What?”

Sonya leaned forward from across the table, “I don’t understand why she doesn't just tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

Sonya sighed exasperatedly, “You two are absolutely hopeless.”

“Hey!” You cried indignantly, ”What’s that supposed to mean?”

Yaz walked over, stopping a few paces away from your chair, arms loosely crossed. “What’s going on over here?” Her eyebrow raised, glancing between the two of you.

“Your sister is being cryptic and I can’t tell if I’ve just been insulted or not.” You groaned.

Yaz sighed, exasperation laid into her tone, “Sonya...”

“It’s all right,” you chuckled, “can’t imagine it was that important. Just something about some secret you are apparently keeping from me.”

Yaz’s eyes widened in alarm, glaring at Sonya, “Don’t you dare.”

Sonya rolled her eyes, “I didn’t tell her anything. But you probably should. If for no other reason, it’s almost painful to watch you drool over—”

Yaz’s hand slapped over her sister’s mouth.

“I don’t drool over—” Yaz turned her head slightly, biting her tongue. Her eyes closed as she exhaled heavily through her nose.

“Gaze longingly after? Stare after like a lovesick puppy?” Sonya all but batted her eyelids mockingly.

“Stop.” Yaz’s tone was sharp, her eyes furious.

Sonya shut her mouth.

“Hey,” you interjected warily, “I’m sure it’s all good, yeah? Nobody told anybody anything. Not even sure what this is even about, but we can all be civil here.”

Yaz looked back, her chocolate irises connecting with yours, a kind of urgency and desperation in her eyes you didn’t remember seeing before.

“She really didn’t?”

You shook your head.

“Whatever it is, I can tell it’s important to you, so I won’t push. But do tell me if I can help. You’re my best friend, Yaz.”

Sonya glanced between the two of you.

Yaz let out a resigned sigh.

“Thanks.” She says your name with a strange tint in her tone. You don’t quite know how to place it, so you tuck it away in the back of your head, something to think about later.

You smiled brightly. “Always.”

————

You were running. Your heart pounded in your ears as you lept over a branch that obstructed your path, the forest dark, moonlight casting random splotches of much-needed light through the leaves. You continued to run, not turning your back. Every second you didn’t spend running…

You gasped as something ice-cold wrapped around your wrist, short spikes digging into your arm. You struggled against the firm grasp, the freezing appendage refusing to let go. You turned in the creature’s hold, face pailing.

The face of the creature was bug-like, hexagonal compartments glinting disturbingly in the faint light of the moon. Its long greyish-blue body towered a good two feet over you, head bobbing up and down slightly. The pincers of the creature’s mouth clicked together rapidly in a menacing fashion. You gulped, looking down, the praying mantis-esque arm biting down into your forearm.

The creature raised its other arm, moonlight flashing across the tough exoskeleton. Your eyes snapped shut as it sliced downwards, a cry for help leaving your lips.

You bolt up from your pillow, heart thundering in your chest. Your pulse roared beneath your skin as your eyes rapidly scanned your surroundings. Without thinking, you unlocked your phone and clicked on Yaz’s number, bringing the phone to your ear, still breathing heavily.

As the phone rang, your heart rate slowly began to return to normal.

This was stupid.

Your mind began to process the situation.

What were you doing?

You kicked yourself mentally.

It was just a bad dream and you weren’t six.

You sighed, continuing to harshly berate yourself internally.

You were a grown woman, you didn’t need to call somebody. It was pathetic. It was just a bad dream. It was stupid to call Yaz. It’s not like she could do anything about it—not like you actually wanted her to—but—

Just as you were about to bring your phone down to end the call, Yaz picked up.

You stuttered into the speaker, struggling to come up with an excuse for waking her up at the ungodly hour. “Ahh, sorry. Sorry. I was about to hang up the phone.”

“‘S okay,” Yaz mumbled groggily, “‘S it ‘n emergency? Do ‘ou need an’thing?”

You could hear faint rustling on the other end of the line between Yaz’s sleepy words.

“No. I’m sorry for calling you in the middle of the night. It’s just that I had a nightmare and I woke up, and I don’t know why but I called you and I’m so sorry for waking you up for something as stupid as this and—”

Yaz cut your increasing ramble off, “Shhh-shhh-shhh. ‘S all right. I don’t mind.”

Yaz waited patiently on the other end of the line for you to calm your nerves.

“Do you want t’ talk ’bout it?”

You shook your head, then realizing she couldn’t see you, verbalized your response. “I don’t want to keep you up, but—”

Yaz’s voice was soft, “You’re not a bother. You can tell me.”

You felt tears well up in your eyes. A slight hiccup left your trembling lips.

Yaz called your name out softly. “Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” you immediately respond, “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

You couldn’t help the last few apologies that slipped past your lips between your shaky breaths.

“Thank you.” You replied faintly, a slight crack in your hoarse voice.

Yaz hummed tenderly into her phone. “Always.”

The nightmare had faded, but your heart was still rapid within your breast.

It was just a lack of sleep. That must be it.

————

The soft smell of grass brushed over you, your eyes roaming the night sky. It was nice out; the stars unobscured.

The slow pulses of light shone, your focus floating amongst the constellations.

Your gaze drifted across the sky, eventually dropping, finding the constellation of Scorpius. So obsessed with the nebula residing just south of the belt of Orion, you hardly paid attention to the main antagonist of the old myth. You followed the curl of the scorpion’s tail. It was fascinating how people came up with shapes from the placement of the stars to tell stories to better understand the world around them.

Your brief thoughts fell to the mythical man that was pasted in the stars. Zeus admired him so much that his image was immortalized in the glittering sky. You wondered if Zeus plastered the Doctor’s image in the stars as well, every thought of the stars becoming thoughts of the Doctor.

The Doctor’s constellation was the entirety of the endless drops of light in the night sky.

If Icarus was doomed to love the Sun, would you forever be doomed to love the stars only to crash back to Earth? The stars had lured you in. You had been drawn in by the stars’ tempting glow. The twinkling lights fanned dreams filled with wonder, dreams of fascination and of love. Your wings were forged from your affections and you flapped towards the heavens, eager to greet the iridescent lights.

With wings tipped in space filled dreams, you flew up towards the stars. But dreams were fragile, crafted from wax and string as the mold to pour your accomplishments into—wings made of feathers and wax do not last. You had flown too close to the sun. The brightest star in the sky burned your wings and let you fall. You were naïve to believe the stars would catch you.

The sun never caught Icarus, and the stars would never catch you.

————

You laughed with glee at the adventure Yaz was relaying to you. The Doctor had taken the gang to a planet that, to instill a sense of contentment amongst its citizens, had a kind of gaseous substance that tricked the brain. If inhaled or eaten, the substance caused people to hallucinate the things they desired the most (or at least in that moment).

The culture of the planet was to treat guests to a banquet, and their culture believed it was a kindness to show people what they desired to see. In theory, it sounded fantastic. In practice, however...

Ryan had apparently started to hallucinate about a large tub of fried chicken following him. You had found the image hilarious, the man swatting at an imaginary container and his outrage that every time he tried to pick up a piece his hand would pass straight through or he picked up some other food that tasted exactly nothing like what he saw. The Doctor had finally deduced that the acceleration of the effect was a chemical most likely contained in the food, so despite the starving fam, none of them were allowed to eat the banquet set before them.

“I was just sitting there, starving for nearly three hours.” Yaz groaned, head falling back, back against your dining room chair. Her eyes had flickered to yours, a small smile of contentment blooming on her features at your elated expression.

You giggled, “Was food the only thing you guys saw?”

Yaz shook her head, sighing. “No. I think for a world like that, those aliens didn’t process the chemical the same as us. They went on with their lives in a generally happy mood, but some of the things we saw after a lot of it got into our system…” Yaz trailed off, her expression dropping, eyes intent upon a spot on the table despite her forlorn features.

You sat forward, prompting Yaz to continue.

Yaz sat, looking intently at her hands, “It started getting really hard to just be there. Graham and Ryan kept on seeing people passing by as Grace. It started not just being objects that we saw or things that made us happy, but things we missed or lost as well. We started seeing people. I felt like I was about to go mad.”

Your brows furrowed.

“You would also see situations… they wouldn’t exactly be hallucinations, but they became so clear in your head that—” Yaz bit her lip. “You thought they would happen, it was so believable, you became almost certain that they would happen. Even if you knew they wouldn’t.”

You wavered, not sure if you wanted to sate your burning curiosity that bubbled at her words. “Did you see anybody?”

Yaz hesitantly nodded.

“Can I ask who?”

Yaz paused.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you added quickly, “From what you were telling me, it’s probably a touchy topic.”

Yaz looked up before her eyes dropped back to her clasped hands. “It’s alright. It was just a silly wish.”

“Water, water everywhere?” You offered.

Yaz’s gaze fell on your face again, something unreadable in her eyes.

There was most definitely something that came more to mind than just some food she couldn’t eat on the alien planet. There was something she desired that she couldn’t have.

Whatever it was, Yaz deserved to have it.

The thought immediately passed through your head. Yaz had helped you through so much. She deserved any wish she could possibly have.

“Nevermind.” A blush rose to Yaz’s cheeks, her face turning away quickly.

You let it go, though your mind still resting on the rosy hue that adorned Yaz’s cheeks, wondering what—who—she saw.

————

Your eyes meandered across the sky, grass brushing the back of your neck softly. Silver dots across the bluish-black backdrop had you plunged into an internal debate. The past few months had been rough, the sense of abandonment probably the worst of everything you felt. The feeling of being cast aside by the woman you loved still fresh despite the start of the whole ordeal being nearing four months ago.

Had it been already?

It felt like so much longer.

Your eyelids slid closed. Time seemed to pass by so much more slowly when you weren’t always traveling in the blue box.

Yet, despite such thoughts, you were glad for the slow pace. You weren’t sure how well you would have handled it all if you were forced to move through your emotions and faster than you already were.

Gratitude towards Yasmin bubbled in your chest. If it weren’t for your best friend, who knew where you would be. Losing the Doctor was a lot more than just losing a woman you fancied: it was losing the night sky as a whole. It was having to lose the stars.

If you could think of some way to properly repay Yaz, you would do it in a heartbeat. Nothing seemed great enough to repay the woman who helped you through your love with the stars.

When you opened your eyes, a flash of light darted across the velvet sky.

There had been quite a lot of falling stars as of late. You must be passing through the residual line of rocks and ice left from another object orbiting the sun. Thoughts of falling stars filled your mind. Another wish nagged at the back of your head.

You begged the stars to listen to your request. Even if they could do nothing about your own plights, you hoped they would at least listen to this one.

Please grant Yaz’s wish. Please let Yaz be happy.

————

As you sat on the stairs leading up to your apartment next to Yaz, two steaming mugs of cocoa in hand. You offered one to your best friend, who thanked you softly. Your baggy sweater drooped over your body, doing a decent job of protecting your frame from the cool air nipping at your skin. Your cheeks were slightly rosy due to the night air.

“I’m not sure if it’s incredibly bad luck or if this is just some big cosmic joke that the universe is playing for laughs.” You nursed your cup close to your breast, a sigh leaving your chest.

Yaz raised an eyebrow, “What’d you mean?”

You shrugged, “The whole situation, really. Seven and a half billion people on the planet and I fall in love with an alien.”

Recognition lights in Yasmin’s eyes, her gaze quickly averting to her cup, fingers tightening around the handle. “Oh, that. Yeah. Odd how that works out.”

Your dry laugh was mirthless, self-pity in your eyes. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for love.”

You miss how Yaz’s eyes dart across your crestfallen form.

“I mean, there’s an entire world of people I went and fell in love with a star.”

Yaz barely managed to bite her tongue, words nearly tumbling out from between her lips that would be hard for her to take back.

What if you were looking at the wrong stars?

Yaz wasn’t sure if they were words she would want to take back.

“I’m sure there’s a star that would fall for you.”

Your mouth went dry as your eyes connected with Yaz’s, her irises intently on yours.

You quickly shook your head, praying your chuckle didn’t reflect the sudden skittishness you felt well up inside of you, “No, no. I—I’m not worthy of a star.”

A frown tugged at your best friend’s lips. “You’re worth all of the stars. Just because she doesn’t think you’re worth it, definitely doesn’t mean that you’re not.”

Your heart raced in your chest, your palms damp.

Why were you suddenly so nervous?

You quickly turned your head, resting your mouth in your palm to partially cover your face indiscreetly, hoping Yaz hadn’t noticed the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You mumbled into your hand.

Yasmin’s eyes were soft, her kind smile caused your stomach to become impossibly light when you turned back. “You deserve all the stars in the universe.”

You fought the fluttering in your chest.

Your eyes turned to the stars. There was no sadness when you looked at them. For the first time in nearly four months, no melancholy.

The lightness in your breast was just due to looking at the stars.

Your cheeks burned.

It was the same lightness you had when you looked at the stars.

————

You gazed longingly up at the night sky while laying on the grassy hill, dots of light twinkling back. A quick dash of light zoomed past, quickly being swallowed by the darkness as it fizzed out of existence.

A falling star.

You breathed in deeply, the crisp cool night air and the smell of damp grass filling your nostrils.

To you, Yaz was like a falling star. She was there to give you a blazing glimmer when your eyes were glued to the cold glow of the dewy drops in the sky.

Yaz was able to bring the light and gently place it into your hands.

In a world where the stars were trapped above like a spiderweb in the sky, Yaz managed to pluck their rays and set them in your palms.

Myths about shooting stars granting wishes were thoroughly untrue; shooting stars were as unreal as the wishes they were supposed to grant. A shooting star implies the star continues its trajectory. Yet those brilliant streaks of light in the sky are falling towards earth, burning up in the atmosphere before (often) disintegrating completely.

But despite the resolute answer of the myth, Yaz somehow managed to grant nearly everything you could have ever wished for. She cared for you when you were down, she provided company on lonely nights, and she was a shoulder to cry on when the pressure became too much. Yaz was always there, a falling star that landed in your arms. You held out your palms and she landed in an explosion of fireworks.

Your heart fluttered within your breast.

Yaz fell into your reach, she fell from the sky into the mud to bring you back up to look towards the stars. Yaz shone brilliantly, brightly, breathtakingly, beautifully.

Yaz shone like the stars.

————

As Yaz recalled her latest adventure enthusiastically, you could see all the stars of the sky shine in her eyes, all the planets untold, all of the excitement you wished you shared. Your gaze fell slightly, trailing down her face, ultimately landing on her lips. You forced your gaze upwards, berating yourself internally. Yaz was just a friend—your best friend—looking at her like that was inappropriate. Your mind briefly flickered to the Doctor. You had thought that about her, too. Suddenly your mouth tasted bitter.

You didn’t notice the frown that began to tug at your lips. Yasmin’s ramblings halted, noticing your expression.

“Is something wrong?”

You jumped. “What? Nothing, nothing. It’s just,” you weren’t quite sure of how to finish your sentence, “I was remembering something unpleasant.”

Yaz frowned. “Nothing to do with me, I hope?”

You shake your head quickly, “No! Not at all. Of course not. I was just reminded of—I was thinking about—“

“The Doctor?”

Your eyes widened in alarm.

“I’m not an idiot. I can tell.” Yaz smiled sadly at you. “If me talking about my adventures with her makes you uncomfortable I can stop.”

You shake your head vehemently. “God no, I don’t want you to stop. I love hearing about all the things you get to do—get to see. I just wish I could be there with you.” You fiddled with your fingers, eyes glued to your hands in your lap. “I love watching you tell me everything, you always look so excited and happy and—the stars you’ve seen seem to be reflected in your eyes. I feel like I’m there with you, but it makes me wish I could actually have been there too.”

You glanced up from your hands to Yasmin’s face, and you were startled at how intently she was looking at you. You couldn’t quite identify it, but the look of awe and wonder in her eyes made your body tingle. You felt like you were swimming in her dark eyes.

Yaz leaned forward slightly, her eyes still locked with yours. You felt your pulse quicken, breath becoming slightly more erratic. You hoped she didn’t notice. The woman’s eyes briefly fell lower on your face before flickering back up. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I’ve been waiting for so long,” Yaz’s eyes seemed to be searching yours. What she’s looking for you didn’t know—what you were denying to know—refusing to hope. “I thought that it would only be her.” Yaz let out a breath, “I thought that she would be the only one who could match up to the stars in your eyes. The one who you would look at like you looked at that nebula.”

The look of awe Yaz gave you was soft, the emotion in her eyes everything but spoken aloud.

“I never thought I’d ever see you look at me the way you look at the stars.”

You faced her fully, unable to tear your eyes away from her chocolate pools. Yasmin leaned closer, her eyes flickering down again briefly and you lick your lips, her breath lightly fanning against your mouth.

“You need to tell me if you want me to stop because I don’t think I can otherwise.”

You could only swallow thickly in response. Yaz’s chest brushed your shoulder, faces centimeters apart, lips a hair’s breadth away from one another. She slowed, waiting, giving you enough time to decide to pull away before your lips collided.

You didn’t.

Notes: Ah, Yes. Metaphors have a way of taking this story by the throat, don't they? I bet a lot of you are getting pretty sick of my stringing-you-along-at-the-pace-of-an-iceberg shit, aren't you? I try to act badass yet I'm all blushes and giggles and this soft crap is what I post. What a blow to my reputation.

Ahhhh, but if nothing else, the rest of you like the show for its commitment to the stars, the fascination to the heavens and all its endless splendor? Right? Right? Let me and my cheesiness live.

Aaaaaaanyways, I hoped you guys enjoyed this chapter! And I love hearing your guys' feedback! I want to know what you loved, what you didn't, what would you possibly shout at anybody in this story as your emotions are put on edge! Please tell me! Until next time, ciao!

Tag List: @oster-hagen , @creativefangirling123 , @wonders-of-the-multiverse , @skittle479 , @actuallyanita

#doctor who #Doctor Who fanfic #13th Doctor #13th doctor x reader #13 x reader #Yasmin Khan #yaz khan #yaz is an amazing character #far too many stars metaphors #I did update this story on valentines #pining #yaz x reader #yasmin khan x reader #haha I bet none of you expected that when you suckers started reading this story #I'm sorry I was joking please don't leave me #the woman who fell in love with the stars #wish upon a falling star

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voidgremlin · 4 years

Text

An Oath to Hope (chapter 5)

Chapter 5: Cookie and Tea

First of all, Yasmin had planned only one thing when inviting the beautiful mystery woman to a cup of tea while as sleep deprived as a bat in the daylight and it was to see the gorgeous woman, just to see her, to listen to her, just a little longer like putting pause on the most perfect still in a movie and get to appreciate it.

Which is in fact, a quite beautiful plan with nice and selfish intentions at the same time and Yaz is pretty sure she was too tired to be a real judge of that.

Secondly, She is very very tired and haven’t slept when she should have. Her brain usually makes miracle in those conditions like in the finals period where she would cram into several sleepless nights to works on lessons and stuff but this time, this one single time. Yaz’s brain is broke and cannot function. Was it because she was there ? Who knows.

So there should be no one to blame her for when poor Nadzieja as soon as she passed by the door and got showered with attention by Yaz’s family. Her coat taken off, Sonya in awe with her earrings, tea made for her right away as well as many sweet pastries. They all sat around the kitchen table, asking wildly how the two of them met.

“Really ? The O’Brian’s car ?” Najia, Yasmin’s mom, asked in disbelief to which the blonde woman answered with a strong nodding that could belong to five years old.

“This car made way too much noise, remember how it woke us up when he took his grandson to school one morning ? It was so awful !” Hakim grumbled before sipping the tea. “This man should take care of his car more god-“

“Hakim !” Najia cut him making eyes. “Be kind ! You don’t know how they dealing with…” trailing off staring to the newcomer.

“Right right darling.” Hakim grumbled again. Nadzieja only looked at them for a short period before staring down to the plate of pastries, swallowing with difficulty. Sonya took over to avoid an awkward silence.

“Is it true you made Yasmin repair a car ?” she mocked. “How long did that took ?”

“Well, we did took most of the night when I can do it in a few hours.” Nadzieja said candidly. “But it was good work !” she added turning her head to Yaz who was slowly dozing off. “You did good work !” The affirmation was earnest and one of the kindest thing Yaz could remember happening to her. Not that she cared a lot about her ability to be a mechanic. It was to not feel like she fucked up.

“Ah ! Nadz my dear you are a miracle for being able to make Yasmin do anything with her hands ! She is so not skilled” Intervened Sonya with a smile.

This statement made Yasmin rose up to make a little punch on her sister’s arms too tired to do anything else. It made Nadzieja chuckle.

“I think Yaz is someone very skilled and brilliant. She could be an engineer if she wanted to.”

“Really ?”

“And yet she decided to be a cop.” Hakim murmured.

“Dad please we already talked about this.” Yaz whispered back.

“I know and I won’t stop complaining. You should put your time in better activities Yasmin.”

Yasmin only sighed refusing to explain herself any further. She knows what she had to do and as she laid her head on the table being lulled to the sounds of nice chat and the birds chirping. She felt like she accomplished something grand. Finding her again was fate, a good roll of the dice, she wondered if she will be that lucky again. If she, maybe, could lo-

She fell asleep right away.

It only took two side conversations about one of the many travels of the new lady in town and one about Sonya’s plans for the future before noticing Yasmin snoring on the table. It made Najia chuckle before explaining that this new job was quite tiring and that she refused to sleep today for her. Nadzieja blushed and stuttered at the mention.

After this they all worked together to put to sleep the young lady, Sonya and Najia wanting to try to carry her to bed before the woman with the rainbow t-shirt swopped the sleeping body like she weighted nothing, to carry her in her bed. The bedroom was small but comfy, with blue tint and small golden lights on the desk who wasn’t cleaned up in days, maybe years. Bed undone by Yazmin bolting earlier in the day. If anything the blonde woman felt like home, not her car even though it is her home. It felt like Home, something she lost, chose to lose, years ago.

She laid her down, carefully, covering her with the blankets. Yasmin moved to be comfortable mumbling a thank you, before opening her eyes to see the blonde woman. Nadzieja was pretty sure she didn’t really really see her but she smiled at her sight, a sweet smile. It made her pause, considering something, before hearing Sonya knocking on the door softly.

“Hey, mom wants to know if you want to stay for dinner ?”

Nadzieja nodded, guess she will stay for dinner too for some reason.

The kitchen was bubbling with laughs and casserole heating up. Hakim made the dough for a naan bread with meat, while Sonya and her mom prepared sweet rice called Zarda. Nadzieja stayed clear of the kitchen looking from afar their actions and work as a team.

“Don’t you want to help ?” Sonya asked while cutting the pepper bells.

“I would love nothing more but alas disaster comes when I goes in the kitchen.”

“Like what ?”

“Well.” She squinted pondering if she should present herself as such a disaster to this loving and caring family. “When I was little, I decided to be chief, of pastries ! And I tried it, cake with flour, mud and some cinnam-“

“Mud ? I have heard mud ?!”

“Plants get nutrients from it ! And we need bacteria in our digestive system ! Soil is for the best!” Nadzieja said adamantly.

“Darling, I’m pretty sure we need to keep the bacteria’s out.” Hakim said while forming the dough.

“Anyway, in the end, the cake cooked just fine, but I have started a fire just in time to be forever banned from all the kitchen’s in the universe.”

“How is that possible ?”

“I am that lucky.” Nadzieja answered smug. “Do you know where I could help ? Repairs ! I can do repairs ! Do you need something fixed ?”

After a good dinner and laughs, Nadzieja was also invited to stay sleeping, hearing about the car situation and Najia refusing to let the woman leave the flat. They installed her in Yaz’s room who was still sleeping soundly. A comfy mattress prepared just for her and everything. They left the room telling her goodnight and the only thing Nadzieja felt like doing was to watch the young woman sleep, sit beside her bed.

“Hi,” she wishpered “I- I-… Thank you for the tea, the talks, the dinner even. You weren’t there but I cried at dinner. Been a while since I had a family dinner. I think I miss it.” Her eyes started to fill with tears. “Your mom is awesome by the way, she was so worried for me and wanted to make laugh. She is very good. So are you.” She started patting Yaz’s hand “I- thank you so much. I will probably leave before you wake up. But it was nice.”

Thank god it was the weekend even for Yaz, she could rest. Thank god her mom was so caring and patient with her, probably carried her to the bed. Made sure she was well. Or was it the mystery woman ? She wasn’t sure.

When Yaz woke up it was 4 a.m. which was normal when working at night. She stared the ceiling, her mind still hazy. She didn’t gave the address to the woman did she ? Oh god she didn’t ! She have to find her again ! Gosh. Today is got to be a long day.

While she felt the anxiety of responsibility and wariness over Nadzieja’s health rise in her gut, she also felt a touch, a small touch and a small snore. To her right, the blonde woman in her mom’s pajamas, kneeling next to her bed, her head with fussed hair laying on the mattress, holding her hand.

There were a mattress ready for her made by Yaz’s mom but the sheets and blankets were untouched. She was here. Touching her hand. She was still there.

Yaz silently thanked god for that moment.

She forced the sleepy woman on her bed, to rest more comfortably. After some struggle she accomplished the deed. Nadz beside her, snuggling in the blankets resting her head on her shoulder, Yaz stayed like that and waited for the sun to rise and for her people to wake up.

After a few hours, Nadzieja rose up. Delighted to be there.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Yaz answered.

“Is it a typical situation in your household ?”

“No” she chuckled.

A little silence fell down, Nadzieja pondering something.

“I was supposed to leave you know.”

“But you didn’t.”

“You were here. Why would I leave that ?”

#dw #doctor who fanfic #an oath to hope #yazmin khan #my stuff

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katedoesfics · 5 years

Text

Under Shadow: Chapter 19

“Sleep well?” Alex asked Najia over their morning’s coffee. The sand storm had dissipated over night and they had gathered around their little fire pit once more before heading out on the road again.

“Like a baby,” Shane said with a false sense of cheerfulness as he sat across from them with coffee in hand.

“Wasn’t asking you,” Alex said snidely.

“Rude.”

“I slept well, too,” Gil chimed in sarcastically. “Thanks to those two.”

“Sorry, Gil,” Shane said. “I guess we were a little too loud.” He shot a glance toward Alex and smiled.

“Seriously?” Najia muttered.

“It sounds like someone’s neediness kept you up, Najia,” Alex said, his gaze on Shane’s. He turned to her, his eyes softer. “Next time you can bunk with me.”

Najia stood abruptly and stormed away from the fire towards the car.

“Oh, good,” Shane said. “You pissed her off. Real good with the ladies, aren’t ya?”

“Some ego from a dirtbag like you,” Alex said.

Shane stood. “That ego of yours is so big, that giant fucking head of yours has its own orbit.”

“Well,” Alex started. “I’m Shane. I’m brighter than the sun. The fucking universe revolves around me.”

The engine to the car started and the head lights flicked on. The five men turned toward the car and watched as it sped down the high way.

Marlon stood, his hands in his pockets, and sighed. “Good job, you fuckin’ dweebs,” he hissed at them. “Neither of you know how to properly woo a lady.” He turned toward the road, pointing. “Look at that. There she goes. The last women left and you drove her away.” He nodded to himself approvingly. “Good for her. Wastin’ her time with the lot of you shitheads.”

“For the record,” Harvey spoke up. “I think she liked me.”

“Shut it, Harvey,” Alex spat.

“That’s enough,” Gil growled. “Both of you.”

Shane moved toward the Hummer, but Marlon’s hand was tight on his arm.

“I don’t think so, cowboy,” Marlon muttered.

“We can’t just let her leave,” Shane said. “She can’t be alone out there.”

“She was alone for a long time before she had the unfortunate luck of bumping into you. I think she’ll manage.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Shane pulled his arm out of Marlon’s grip.

“I’m the one with the keys, boy. What I say, goes.”

Shane smiled. “Fortunately you don’t need keys to start an engine.”

Gil’s rifle cocked from behind him. Marlon smiled at Shane.

“You better watch yourself, son. The world could use one less survivor.” Marlon stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. “Now, how about we clean up here and get a move on?”

*****

Najia fumed to herself as she sped down the highway. How dare they treat her like some piece of meat? She knew Shane was an ass, but she never expected him to act that way. But then again, maybe she was being stupid for trusting a guy she had only known for a couple of weeks. She cursed under her breath. Stupid. Stupid, trusting, Najia. Always trying to find the best in people. Always trying to look at the bright side of the darkest situation. Shane was right; she was being stupid. She couldn’t trust any of them. She had no reason to. Any of them could have turned around and taken advantage of her. Hell, they had been alone for so long, it was a surprise no one had done that already. It was a good thing she left when she did. A good thing she had the courage to be on her own again. Alone. Out in the big, dark world, with enemies lurking in the shadows, alone.

Najia swallowed and looked back in the rear view mirror. Was it too late to turn around? What if they were gone? What if she lost them? What if they were the only survivors left, and she’d never see them again? Cursed to spend the rest of her life in this dark, cruel world, alone. Cursed to die, scared and alone.

She bit her lip and looked forward once more. No, she didn’t need them. She had gotten so far without them; without anyone. She could do it again.

But she had a taste. A taste of companionship. A being to talk to; to laugh with. Even if it was kind of an ass. She couldn’t imagine going on without that again.

But it was as if Yoba heard her fears and granted her one wish. Her headlights flashed over the body of a car on the side of the road, and there was a light flashing in her face, as if someone were trying to flag her down.

Her heart raced as she neared the car and pulled up beside it. She opened the window and peered into the darkness.

“Oh my Yoba,” a voice said. “Another person.”

Najia fumbled for her flashlight and shown it on the two women in the car. Their light swept over her face. She smiled to them.

“I can’t believe we found someone,” the other voice - a girl with purple hair - said.

“She doesn’t seem as excited to see us.”

“You’re not exactly the first people I’ve come across,” Najia said.

Their eyes widened. “There’s more?” the driver said.

Najia nodded.

“Where?”

She hesitated. “I kind of ditched them,” she said. “Quite a few miles back.”

The two women exchanged a glance.

“Why?” the girl with the purple hair asked.

“I don’t really know,” Najia said slowly. “They pissed me off.”

“Where are you heading?” the driver asked.

“The coast. You?”

They turned to each other once more.

“Don’t know,” the driver said. “We’ve just been driving aimlessly without much of a plan.”

“We had a plan,” the other girl pointed out. “It just kinda fell through.”

“What’s at the coast?”

Najia hesitated. “Hopefully my grandfather.”

“At least she has someone left,” the girl muttered.

“Do you think we could join you?” the driver asked carefully. “We actually kind of broke down and have been stuck here for a while.”

“Yes,” Najia said quickly, then hesitated once more. “I mean. Yeah. I don’t know. Sure.”

They didn’t wait for Naia to make up her mind. They hurried out of the car, grabbing their things, and piled in with Najia.

“I’m Leah, by the way,” the driver said, sliding into the passenger seat.

“Abigail,” the other girl said as she closed the back door.

“I’m Najia.”

“So,” Abigail started. “What happens when you get to the coast? If you’re grandfather’s there?”

“I’m not really sure,” Najia said as she stepped on the gas. “I guess he’s kind of crazy. He called me before this all happened. Told me to meet him there. He would be able to protect me. I’m starting to doubt him, though.”

“Well, that’s a chance I’d be willing to take,” Leah said. “You can always worry about it after you see for yourself.”

Najia pinched her lips. “Maybe.”

#under shadow #chapter 19 #us19 #stardew valley #fic #fanfic

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cepmurphy · 4 years

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“And we’re the flies.” – Arachnids In The UK

I only just now got that the title is a pun on “Anarchy in the UK”.

This is a creature-feature horror story. It aired on Halloween, we open with a POV of unseen something passing through the hotel, there’s bodies wrapped up in webs and tense creeping through homes that have gone mysteriously quiet. Things are in the walls. Something tears out of a sink. Things are in dark canyons.

It's all fun stuff but the horror is never quite as good as it could have been. In part, this is that the spiders never kill anyone that we’re told matters – they kill Not-Trump’s niece-in-law after we’ve seen her for a minute and they kill his henchman and they have murdered someone’s colleague, but they never kill someone we are sympathetic to or have seen for very long. We’re absolutely sure Yaz’s mum will be fine. The other reason most of the horror doesn’t land is the directing, which isn’t bad but isn’t the same directing we saw last time in Sheffield, in the first episode – the dark grimy corners and shadowy monsters aren’t here.

There is one scene that does work though. While the bulk of the episode is at the fancy hotel, our first spider attack is in a flat in Sheffield in broad daylight, where drawing curtains reveals a corpse in a chair. This is the proverbial Yeti on the loo in Tooting Bec, the monster is in YOUR HOME, KIDS!!

So, the horror is uneven. What else is there? The character work, Not-Trump, and the spiders themselves. Two of these are good and one is a drag.

Let’s start with the spiders. These are a classic monstrous monster, big spiders that will eat you; they’re not unearthly alien things like Tim Shaw’s mass of coils or the murder bandages, or a single individual like Tim Shaw. You can see how “big toxic-waste spiders run amok” should go. However, despite the clear threat, these are not monsters. It’s presented very early on that these are just animals acting funny, that something weird has happened to them. Both the Doctor and Dr McIntyre know the spiders shouldn’t attack, and this is a puzzle more than a horror beat. When discussing the behaviour, McIntyre says “I can’t work out if they’re confused, or angry, or scared” – the spiders are victims.

What happens in the end, with the final fate of the beasts? The Mother Spider can’t breathe properly, she’s dying in pain. The big swarm are trapped rather than massacred, as living things deserve dignity and “a humane, natural death”. (Let’s assume they were put down rather than devoured themselves in a starving frenzy!) Throughout the whole episode, the spiders aren’t met with equal force but with scientific means of containment, from ordinary vinegar to attracting them with music – and there’s that practical hands-on theme again. They’re hungry confused animals, and the real menace is the human who made them and salivates over killing them.

Unfortunately, that human, Jack Robertson, is the weakest part. He’s clearly a stand-in for Trump: a rich, sociopathic American hotel owner with political ambitions. But up until the halfway point, he hasn’t been named and I was left wondering if he was meant to be Trump, or at least the Who equivalent of him. But he isn’t! Trump, we’re told, exists and is president and Robertson is a rival of his! We’re just dealing with a knockoff Trump even within universe. The sombre moment where this horrible man might end up in the White House is wrecked because someone worse (because they’re real) is already there, and Robertson can’t possibly get in as a (presumably) independent candidate anyway.

Everything about him is undermined by being Not-Trump. Any threat he provides isn’t that impressive and every instance of malice isn’t as cutting, because he’s not really Trump; every heroic diss against him isn’t as crowd-pleasing, because he’s not really Trump. With his election plans so vague and irrelevant to the plot, he doesn’t even need to be a guy trying for politics. He could have been another famous businessman’s stand-in, like Bezos or Branson. If he was meant to be political, he should have been a British person planning to be Trump – a Farage-esque figure, or someone planning to run for ‘metro mayor’ of Sheffield – for a ‘it can happen here’ approach. But instead, he’s a dull void.

On the plus side, we get a lot of character work. Much of it goes to Yaz: we see how disappointed Yaz is nobody texted her while she was time travelling, we see her interact with her family, we learn she never brings friends round, we see her attempting police authority when a gun is pointed at her. The Khans are quickly sketched out as characters and given ways they interact with Yaz. (One nice touch, Najia Khan immediately assumes the Doctor must be Yaz’s girlfriend if she’s trying not talk about her – and there’s no judgement of the idea, just irritation her daughter would keep it from her)

Graham gets the second biggest share of the character work. Once more, he’s a double act with Ryan and once more, we see him and Ryan both getting better at communicating as a result of all this. At the start, with the prospect Ryan’s dad might come back, both are too ‘manly’ to properly discuss how they feel and Graham is clearly worried, but afraid to say it, that Ryan will leave him. Later, Ryan tells him he won’t correspond with his father in part because he’s insulted Graham. “I don’t like that he put that – proper family.”

And it’s Graham who is still suffering bereavement but unable to tell anyone, though everyone can clearly tell why he really wants to “nip home first” (and Ryan offers to go with). This is a very low key, very sobering scene. A sad old man in an empty house, pretending he’s talking to his wife, consumed by loss. Why does he want to keep travelling with the Doctor? Because he doesn’t want to do that anymore. He doesn’t want to be lonely and grieving. This is how he moves on.

(Away from Graham, it’s Ryan who works out they can use the local grime radio to attract the spiders. Not just a practical plan, something specific to him and this the lad that was giving up & worried he couldn’t achieve much in the first story!)

Finally, the Doctor – she’s lonely too. When she drops everyone back home, she clearly doesn’t want to go just yet, she doesn’t want to stop hanging out. She expects to be left alone and it’s so obvious she wants them as friends, but she can’t bring herself to ask.

Outside the TARDIS, everyone is lonely, frustrated, not communicating well. Together, they’re better.

#doctor who #doctor who s11 #doctor who reviews #jodie whitacker

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