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#doctor who oneshot
renniethedwstan · 1 year
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Prompt: I thought you could do with a hug.
A strangers comforting touch
Eleventh Doctor/Reader
Oneshot.
Warning: veryyyyy light angst, fluff.
The Doctor and Reader are complete strangers in this.
Once again, The Doctor had found himself completely alone. He missed his friends dreadfully but had slowly accepted that he'll never see them again. Loneliness didn't take long to seep in, causing The Doctor to be at his lowest point once again. He was used to loneliness by now as it was the curse of the timelords. He was always going to outlive his friends, or they were going to move on eventually. But it didn't make it hurt any less, nor did it stop him yearning for another person to travel with. But he had decided that he would rather hide away than lose another person and experience heartbreak all over again.
He sighed as he walked through the streets in the Victorian times, three years after losing The Ponds, then Clara not long after. He was a monk for a while, but he quickly grew bored and went back to the clouds in the sky. It was now summer, so the nights were brighter, so he had grown rather fond of walking through the park in the evening where he could watch the sunset. He went over to his favourite park where the perfect view between two trees enhanced the burning ball of fire that was growing more red as it slowly dipped into the horizons. When he first watched the sunset after the Ponds incident, he weeped. He weeped because it meant that it was a new day without his friends, and that loneliness had truly sunk in.
Two arms wrapped around his neck from behind, causing The Doctor to smile softly. "Warmth, Happiness, Comfort." Those were the first words to come to his mind as another person joined him. They were always there when he needed comfort. Never asked questions and never asked who he was. They just hugged him before joining him, where they both watched the sunset. After that, they just went their own way, living their lives again. Not a single word is ever spoken between them even all these years later. He knows what they look like. Of course he does. He's not an idiot. They had (your H/C), (Eye Colour), (skin colour) They were (your height) he also noticed that they had the most beautiful smile in the universe. No matter how sad he was, somehow, they always made him feel better when they smiled.
Once the sun had set, they stood up, leaving again, but a voice stopped them in their tracks. "Why do you keep coming back?"You looked like you needed a hug." They smiled at The Timelord, who smiled back at the mysterious but kind person as he watched their figure grow smaller and smaller. He turned back around, staying seated on the bench as he let out a chuckle. "One day, Doctor. Maybe one day." He got up and walked back to The Tardis thinking about the mysterious person once again as he realised. Maybe he wouldn't feel so lonely anymore if he simply started up a conversation.
(Sorry if this isn't the best. I just thought it would be a fun and cute little story to write.)
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ep-the-penguin · 1 year
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~Request Rules~
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[Published: Sunday, January 7th, 2023]
I write One-shots, headcanons, and drabbles. Maybe a mini-series, when I think a request is good enough for one. Also if people keep requesting for me to make one, lol...
Only Platonic stuff. Whether it be friends, sister, or daughter-related stuff. Characters don't have to be related to the reader, obviously.
All requests are done in the Reader Insert style [using (Y/N)], no expectations. I'm also only writing for females. I apologize to any male readers out there, but it's what I'm most comfortable with.
I will not write the reader doing drugs of any kind, consuming alcohol, having intercourse, self-harm, suicide, etc. I'm not comfortable writing any of that.
While I do write characters being yandere, I will not write them intentionally physically hurting the reader in any way, emotionally is a bit in the grey area for me, but please nothing too extreme. I won't write the reader being a yandere either.
While requesting something, I would advise that you specify the fandom, the character, and the scenario you want me to write. But with the scenario, please explain it to me like I'm a five-year-old. I need you to be as descriptive as possible to get your request right✨
Fun fact: This blog was created out of spite that the fanfiction community does not have enough or just simply the lack of platonic stories for my bois... So here I am, committing to writing things for them, and for my fellow readers out there who also want to read platonic fics.
If there's something you have in mind but aren't so sure that it will be uncomfortable to write, or a character you aren't too sure of, just send it in. Please, don't hesitate to ask. I know it can be a bit daunting to ask and or comment on things, but always know that I'm happy to communicate with all of you! It really makes my day to see people comment on my works or just simply ask questions regarding my works✨
~T.V Shows/Movies/Characters I Write For~
Supernatural (Seasons 1-5)
John Wick
Doctor Who (New Who, except the 13th Doctor and so forth)
Stranger Things
Van Helsing (2004)
The Sandman (Dream of the Endless/Morpheus)
Hopefully, more will come in the future. I might even add more anime characters/series later on. For now, this is all I'm writing for...
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shuichiakainx · 2 months
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they say home is where the heart is, but God I love Matt 💕
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morganas-pendragons · 5 months
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ache | fourteen
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this got away from me sooooooo quickly, I hope you like it!
The first time you met him, he didn't have to tell you how old he was. You were well versed in reading people. In distinguishing those hidden details between the lines, between the cracks of the person, and recognizing the little things no one else could bother to care about.
You knew he was old. You didn't know he was forever. You didn't know that he'd been running for so long that he'd never allowed himself to learn how to stop. To plant his feet in one place, to inhale, to exhale.
You didn't realize how much he craved you. How he craved you like the oxygen he has not breathed in since Gallifrey. Since the last time he allowed himself to simply exist without having to flee to the next destination.
The Doctor. The man who keeps running, because he dare not look back.
But with you... when he left you...
Oh, he did. You just didn't know.
Kate Lethbridge-Stewart found you in the aftermath of the Doctor's departure. You were sitting on the park bench where the TARDIS had last dropped you off, knees drawn to your chest and eyes blankly staring at the spot in hopes the box would materialize.
It never did. Every time you sat here and thought about it, about him, your chest ached so badly. Like it was seeking the oxygen it had been deprived of.
She'd sat beside you and waited until you turned your head to acknowledge her, "Whatever it is, I'm not interested. I'm waiting for a friend to come back."
There's so little hope in your voice. You know he's not coming back. You know, but you hope, because The Doctor can ease that ache in your chest and breathe that air back into your lungs.
You wish you hadn't been so impressionable. He'd flashed those marvelous brown eyes and that charming smile. That was all it took.
And when he'd laid those bleeding hearts in your hands, you'd let the blood run through your fingers and held them close to your chest. You'd protected them. Cherished them.
And then you'd thrown them back in the TARDIS. Left to fend for themselves. Left to bleed again.
The ache just won't go away.
"Your friend is a notorious runner," Kate remarks. "The likelihood is slim. However, I do have an opportunity for you that you could consider.. where he may show his face sometime soon enough."
You heard her out. She told you about UNIT, about The Doctor and his involvement, and you took the job when she offered it to you.
You saw him from afar multiple times after that. You never saw Ten again, but Ten would see you, parking the TARDIS out of sight multiple times before he changed faces because just seeing you eased the ache in his chest that had settled there when you were gone.
Then the one in the tweed with the bowtie. He was clever. Sweet. Kind. You saw him several times. Marveled at him from afar.
The ache got a little bit easier to deal with.
Then the next one. So much older. Older and angry and lonely and so, so ready to give up. That companion who'd gone with him sought you out the first time they came to UNIT together. Almost like she recognized you.
Turns out, Clara did.
"Hi," You turn to acknowledge the younger woman from your spot at your desk and smile warmly. "My name is Clara. Forgive me for the intrusion, but I have to ask you something."
"Come on in," You wave to the open chair with an empty hand and settle your tablet on your desk. You'd been reading up on the Doctor and all UNIT had gathered on him since you'd joined. There was a lot to sift through. "What can I do for you, Clara?"
"I thought you looked familiar. Then I remembered," She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old photo. You froze instantly at the sight and leaned outward to inspect it. "He's got a picture of you on the console."
It's definitely you. You and Ten and Donna, weeks after you'd joined them on the TARDIS, wrapped in your parkas and Ten in his trench coat on the Planet of the Ood.
"That is me," You whisper. Clara softened as you ran your fingers along the edge of the picture, turning it over to read the inscription on the back. That's Ten's handwriting. It's not yours. It reads, When the ache was gone. "I used to be just like you. I was so..."
Clara waited. She waited, but your voice never came, because then she was saying, "I just wanted you to know something. He talks about you. He hasn't done it a lot, but you're the only one he's got a photograph of on the console. I see the way he looks at it. And he's mentioned you a few times. The Doctor told me once that he's been in pain since you've been gone. And I don't think it's going to stop."
And then she's gone, and you're on your own again. She didn't even leave you the photo. She just leaves you to collect your thoughts and the fact that The Doctor has not been able to move on from you.
Silent tears track down your face. You would give anything to touch him. To hold him, to run your thumbs reverently under those ancient eyes, and just... tell him how loved he is.
But you can't.
He keeps running away.
***
He stops cold when he sees you inside of Unit HQ. You're standing there behind Shirley, so beautiful, and so very alive. He's only just come back from Soho.
From the Toymaker. From the nightmare, from the constant reminding that he failed you, failed them, failed all of them. All the ones who died.
"We hired Y/N as a liaison. Turns out hiring your companions has proven to be quite beneficial. They are something of experts, after all."
And then there's Mel, and it's all just too much because there are so many people in this room who love him. He doesn't deserve that love. There's too much weakness in this room. His hearts are bleeding everywhere and The Toymaker knows his weaknesses.
The Doctor will not let the ache infect him again. Not when you're standing less than three feet away from him for the first time in fifteen years.
You have no time to react before he's in front of you, and you can smell him, and he's everywhere and his fingers are lacing with yours.
Something shifts inside of your chest.
"I have so much to answer for," He murmurs lowly enough only for the two of you to hear. "And I know there's no universe in which you don't hate me for what I did-"
His whole affect shifts into something of despair when you step forward to fill the gap between you and grip his chin between your thumb and finger. There's so much pain in those eyes now. Pain from inevitable losses, pain from what he's done to you, pain from existence.
You just want to take his ache away. If you're going to do anything with the precious amount of time you two have, you are going to take those bleeding hearts back into your hands and fix them. And then you are going to hold him.
You are going to hold him with your bloody hands - because when does anyone who is ever associated with The Doctor not have blood on their hands? - and refuse to ever let him go.
It makes your ache less. It makes your pain less.
"There won't ever be a single instance in which you could make me hate you," You admit. "And you will have all the time in the world to tell me why you made me leave."
"The Toymaker. He... He preys on weaknesses. He will know. He always knows."
And it's on that moment that you see something you almost never saw with his Tenth face: Fear. He is terrified. That unnerves you.
Without thinking, you stand on your tiptoes and cradle his face in your hands as you kiss his forehead. It's tender. Reverent. Mel and Donna try not to gape as The Doctor leans in closer and remains there until you pull apart.
"Then don't let him," You say firmly. "And you go out there and you win."
***
"I'm all sonic and Timelord. Take that away... what am I? What am I now?"
Donna is reminded of one of the earliest trips she'd ever taken with Ten. Among the very first where she'd realized that he had fallen in love with you. There's faint memories of Pompeii, of the aftermath, when you'd followed The Doctor into the console room after he'd stormed in there asking the same question.
That time you'd answered him with all the gentleness she answers him now, "Take that all away, and you're still a good man."
The few moments that you get alone with Donna give her the opportunity to fill you in on what she'd learned from being inside The Doctor's mind. She tells you about Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen, about the ones who died, about The Flux. You hear all of it.
What makes the ache unbearable is the fact that when Ten died, he died alone. And that's the worst part.
Because you'd broken your promise that he'd never be alone again. Despite the fact he'd forced you out, you'd failed him.
And now here you stood.
"Hey," Donna's hand rests on your shoulder as your eyes flicker over to the Doctor, who now stands mere feet in front of the Toymaker. "You'll be with him soon enough."
Seconds after she says it, the air is pierced by a scream as the galvanizing beam activates, and it is shot straight through The Doctor. Mel's hand is going white from how hard you are gripping it.
"I played one game with the first Doctor, the second game with the second Doctor, and I will play the next game with the next Doctor!" The Toymaker exclaims boldly.
You don't realize you're the one screaming until the beam turns off.
He falls to his knees. The last time he'd done that that you had seen was when you walked out of the TARDIS. Defeat. Resignation.
You wait for the regeneration energy to appear. You're about to lose this face, again, and there's not a single thing you can do about it. Not until Donna's voice speaks up again and shouts, "He's not dying alone!"
"You can do what you like to me," You're speaking before you can stop yourself. "But I'm going to be with him. I keep my word. And I won't fail him again."
Mel nods her confirmation to both remarks. You steel your expression as you pursue Donna and Mel toward the Doctor. You cannot be falling apart right now. The ache is not allowed to consume you when it is him who is about to die, to change, to become another man.
Everything in the world around you disappears when you meet those eyes. Those kind, sad eyes that have always looked at you with such reverence and devotion. Those are the eyes of a man who you would burn the galaxies and all within it if it gives him some peace.
The words are on his tongue, so ready to be said. The ache has made the weight of keeping those words to himself unbearable.
He knows though. In that moment, he knows. He will love you eternally. No matter the face.
"It's okay," You say confidently. "It's okay."
"It's not dying."
"But you're going to be someone else." Mel interjects. The Doctor's eyes travel between the three of you. His former companion, his best friend, and his love. "It doesn't matter who. 'Cause every single one of you is fantastic."
He meets your eyes head on, and you rest a singular hand between his hearts.
"Here we go again," He murmurs. "Allonsy."
***
There are two of them. Two Doctors. The older one, the newer one, wears something you've never seen on The Doctor. He wears the mark of acceptance. Or peace.
Probably both.
But the way he looks at you? Oh, the way he looks at you. It's like he knows something that you and the younger Doctor don't know. When The younger Doctor and Donna approach the newest Doctor after the Toymaker is defeated, you stay behind to let them have their moment.
Until Fifteen looks back and motions you forward the second Fourteen's head falls into the crook of his neck. He already knows. He already knows, and he’s asking you to come step in. To be his sanctuary.
You suck in a breath and approach, bridging the gap between The Doctor and Donna to tenderly run your hand up his spine. He can’t see you. He can’t see you, but you can see him, and his entire being trembles at your touch.
“How many people died?” Fourteen asks again. You swallow the knot in your throat and meet the older Doctors dark gaze, to which he winks at you and gently turns his younger self around so that way his face is buried in your neck instead.
“They’re right.” You whisper, threading your fingers through the hair at his nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. The older Doctor presses a finger to his lips and tugs on Donna’s arm to give the two of you a moment of privacy. “It’s not your fault. None of this, none of the ones who died, are your fault. You want to know why?”
He allows you to lift his head from the crook of your neck. Your fingers trace the curve of his jaw until you’re cupping it in your hands, and the urge to kiss him until the ache disappears has never been stronger.
The Doctor asks with such a hesitation that is so unlike him, "Why?"
And it's then that you realize: For all the time this lonely harbinger of death and destruction has existed, when was the last time he stopped? When was the last time he lived?
"Because we choose to. We choose you. There were so many of us, so many of us who wanted something better then the simplistic life we get here on Earth."
The Doctor shakes his head. "Humans are not and have never been simple-" You press a finger to his lips and quirk a brow, playfully daring him to continue.
"You come and urge us away in that brilliant little box of yours with promises of a better life. An exciting life. Regardless of the dangers to ourselves, we always take it, because of you. We take you in all that you are even when the Oncoming Storm dares to rear his ugly head. Ancient. Timeless. Infinite," You tenderly run a thumb under his eye. "You love so much... but don't let yourself be loved in return. You don't let yourself be thanked. That's why. We love you because you're selfless, because you're you."
The Doctor hates how wrong you are. He wants to believe those things about himself, but he is by nature a selfish man.
"You are too good to me." He whispers in your ear, lips brushing your temple. You hum thoughtfully and reach under his vest to playfully squeeze his hips.
"Because you're deserving of goodness too, my love."
In the doorway behind you both, The older Doctor smiles. This is exactly the thing, the people, that his younger self needs to heal from all that damage. All that pain and loneliness.
And eventually, he too will wear the mark of peace that this new body has been granted.
***
"Do you know why I think this face came back? So you could stop. So you could come home."
The Doctor has been absently sipping at his drink for the greater part of thirty minutes as he basks in the sunlight and the joy from the group gathered around the table. Mel is just barely leaning into him, enough for her warmth to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Donna is grinning brightly as Rose tells the story of when The Doctor took her to Mars.
In the distance, Wilf's shotgun goes off as he misses yet another mole attempting to emerge from its burrow.
It is the most peace he's had in millennia.
"Hey," Donna's voice softly calls from his left as she nudges his side with her elbow. "Where did you go?" Ten had this blank look of devastation and haunting that he wore quite often when she'd ask him a question about his past, or about where he'd come from. He lived in his memories. Memories about Gallifrey. About his companions.
This time though, it's you.
Before he can properly reply to Donna, there's a voice shouting from inside the house. His brow furrows. All of the family is outside. So who-
"Donna! For God's sake, why does your house have little to no counter space? There's only four of you! Where am I supposed to put this food?"
The Doctor sucks in a sharp breath. "Is that-"
"Don't worry, I didn't say a word," Donna assures. "But yes. Now go."
She says it with such demand that he has no choice but to trust her and stands to his feet. The Doctor wiggles his toes in the damp, warm grass and takes his empty glass inside to refill it.
There you are. Right there, in all your splendor, muttering curse words under your breath as you work to create space for the desert you'd brought at Donna's request. He's at a loss for words.
That's a first.
"Donna, if you're just standing there gaping-" You whip around and lift an accusatory finger, eyes wide as The Doctor's gaze flickers down and back up to yours playfully. "Doctor."
"Hi."
"What are you doing here? I thought you'd have flown away by now."
Be brave, Doc. Be brave.
Your eyes follow the path of his hands as one comes to rest on your jaw, then the other, until you find yourself drawn impossibly close and only mere inches from his lips. "Between you, Donna and my older self... Think I figured it out."
"Figured what out?"
The Doctor's fingers tangle in your hair then and tip your head upwards. "Why I was coming home," He whispers. "The long way around."
The sigh of relief that escapes from both of you as the ache finally, finally leaves makes all of the pain worth it. All the heartache. The loneliness.
It's all worth it if he gets this.
"I love you." The Doctor murmurs as you pull apart. The smile that rewards him could rival the brightness of Gallifrey's suns, and he thinks he might be able to do this kind of life after all if it means he gets to see that smile. Forever.
"I love you too." You reply, resting a single hand on his chest. "The ache..."
"What?"
"The ache." You breathe. "It's gone. Guess I must've needed a Doctor to fix me up."
Donna turns her head to gaze at the open kitchen doors as laughter pours through, and The Doctor emerges with you carried on his back. You take your place in his lap easily enough once he sits down.
Yeah. The amnesia.. the missing years, the adventures... It had all been worth it.
Those bleeding hearts that have spent millennia broken still beat, messy stitches holding as they take their rest within their cage.
Healed. Fixed.
No longer aching.
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redskull199987 · 4 months
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Happy Tears
11th Doctor x fem!reader Word Count:1.7k Warnings:none at all, all fluffy. This is set in the first episode of season 7, so also no spoilers Summary:You knew that the Doctor was alive. Not only because you refused to believe that he was dead, but also because River told you that he wasn’t. The only question was, If he would return… Masterlist
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The Doctor didn’t plan on returning. He really didn’t. He thought it would be safer for them. For Amy and Rory. And for you. He believed that it was his duty to protect his friends. And he did that in keeping his distance.
But were you really just a friend? Was that really all you were to him? He remembered the day he met you, as if it were yesterday. When he still had another face. Just a young girl with a pure heart and no idea whatsoever to do with her life. And the Doctor just came along and swooped you away. Quite literally, as he had to save you from an exploding building. It always made him smile, when he remembered with how much confidence you jumped off that roof and into his Tardis. 
And he was there to catch you. He would always be there to catch you. He knew that and so did you. 
In fact, the Doctor was embarrassingly aware of how often he looked after you, visiting you without telling you, just admiring you from afar and making sure, that you were safe. He sometimes even saw you with the Ponds. On coffee dates with Amy or cruising around with Rory in his new Car. 
Or simply just for Christmas Dinner. 
And that was exactly what brought him back. Christmas Dinner. He wasn’t sure if this really was the right choice, but he knew he had to try. To at least keep in contact with you. Who knows, maybe even take you on an adventure or two. 
His two hearts were beating rapidly, as he made his way out of the Tardis. The dark Blue front door of the Ponds immediately catching his attention. And he was about to go knock, when he decided to look back at the Tardis one last time, pondering if he should leave again. But what he saw instead, caused his breathing to stagger for a second.
There you were. Just walking down the street, probably on your way to the Ponds. Just like the Doctor. He slowly walked back onto the street again and took in your appearance. A big fluffy coat covered most of your body. He could barely see your black boots underneath it. He couldn’t prevent the chuckle that left his lips, as he realized that you were wearing a long multi-colored scarf that was tightly wrapped around you. Your gaze was directed to the floor, while you slowly walked towards him. A pair of big headphones sat atop of your head, which was probably the reason why you didn’t see him yet. 
The Doctor just stood there for a few seconds, enjoying this moment. The knowledge, that you would see him in a few moments and sprint towards him, probably with tears in your eyes, as he could finally hug you again. Feel your body against his, hear your sweet voice again. Oh and your eyes, your big curious eyes would finally look at him, with the most adoration, he had ever felt in his life. 
It seemed that the doctor got too caught up in his thoughts of you. Only when you called out to him, he snapped back into reality.
“Doctor?”, You asked nervously, your voice breaking slightly.
But the Doctor didn’t say a word, he only smiled at you and opened his arms. And as he predicted, You immediately ran towards him and when your body collided with his, it almost took him off his feet. But after a few seconds, he managed to find his footing again. The smile on his lips only got bigger, as he heard your relived chuckle, while you held onto him tightly. 
After a few moments of intensely hugging each other, the two of you finally parted again. The Doctor looked down at you, his smile bigger than ever and his eyes practically glowing. His hands were still laying on top of your shoulders. He finally had you back. After all this time of traveling alone, he finally had you back.
“Hello? Earth to Timelord?!”, you suddenly said, waving a hand in front of his face, startling him slightly. You could only chuckle at his reaction:”You haven’t changed a bit, Doctor.”
“Is that good or bad?”, he asked curiously. You could hear a bit of nervousness lingering in his voice, while his gaze slowly drifted from your eyes to your lips.
“Oh Doctor.”, You chided, your hand rising to grasp his cheek,”No matter how much you change, you’ll always be my Doctor.”
All of a sudden, the Doctor seemed to find his confidence again and a smirk appeared on his face:”Your Doctor?”
“Ehm, I-I mean…”, you stuttered helplessly, looking down while you felt heat creeping up your neck and all the way to your cheeks,”You know what I mean, Doctor.”
“Do I now?”, he teased further. But your breath stocked, as he suddenly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand back to rest on his cheek. You looked back up at him, confusion written all over your face.
“I do.”, he finally said, after a few seconds of Silence. A content smile graced his features, while he slowly leaned closer to you:”The Question is, do you?”
His words were hushed and gentle, only for you to hear. His gaze was focused on your lips only and it seemed like he waited for permission.
“I do.”
That was all he needed. He pressed his lips against yours tenderly. Almost afraid that you would push him away again. But you didn’t. On the contrary, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, while you deepened the kiss.
The Doctor, a bit surprised by your reaction, wildy waved his hands around for a second, before he finally decided to rest them on your waist. His touch was soft, treating you like you were porcelain. It was similar to his kiss.
When the two of you had to part, the need for oxygen finally becoming too overwhelming, both of you were panting rapidly, but still holding onto each other for dear life.
“It was about time, wasn’t it?”, You asked after you had caught your breath again. The Doctor could only nod, before he leaned in again, kissing you softly on your forehead.
“I’ll always…always be here for you.”, the Doctor mumbled,”I’ll alway protect you.”
You watched how a tear ran down his cheek. You gently raised your hand again and wiped it away.
“Look at you.”, you smiled,”Happy tears, that’s a first, isn’t it?”
“There’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”, he agreed, while pulling you closer again. for one last time, he pressed his lips to yours. It only lasted a few seconds, but it made you long for more. 
Only now, as you were about to knock at the Pond’s door, probably bringing them the biggest surprise in their life yet, you spotted something behind the Doctor.
“You know what?”, you said, patting his chest lovingly, “You go say hi to the Ponds, I’ll say hy to the Tardis.”
The Doctor could only smile at you:”She missed you almost as much as I did.”
“Of course she did.”, You grinned before sprinting towards the Time Machine.
You took in her form. She looked exactly the same, but it still made your heart flutter. You hastily pulled out your Tardis key, that you always carried with you, just in case, and quickly opened the door. You took a deep breath in, before stepping inside. Almost immediately, you heard the familiar humming coming from the console. 
“Oh I missed you too, old girl.”, You smiled, quickly ascending the stairs to look around.
”He’s taken good care of you, hasn’t he?”, you breathed out, while taking in the familiar surroundings. It felt so good to be back.
“And you took good care of him, hm?”, You whispered, your hand now resting on the console. You heard the distant humming again and you took it as a yes. Before you could say anything more, the monitor suddenly came swinging towards you. You quickly ducked away, afraid you might hit your head.
“You want to show me someth-”, Your voice died down, as you saw it. The small picture of you, taped to the edge of the monitor. It was the day, the Doctor took you onto your first adventure together. You looked so young, you almost couldn’t belive your eyes. 
“Thank you, old girl.”, You smiled contently, before quickly making your way outside again.
You couldn’t stop the laugh that left your lips, as you saw the Doctor and Amy in her doorway, just staring at each other, both too stubborn to hug first. You swiftly jogged over to them.
”Just hug already!”, you shouted, while simultaneously pushing the Doctor against Amy, forcing both of them to hug. Laughing erupted in the hallway, while the two fo them finally hugged.
“Rory?!”, You questioned into the kitchen,”Look who finally showed up!”
Only seconds later, Rory’s head popped out of the Kitchen. A smile soon appeared on his lips, as he saw who your entourage was.
“Was about time.”, he chuckled, patting the Doctors shoulder,”Come on, we were about to eat.”
“If it doesn’t cause too much trouble.”, The Doctor said nervously, while searching for your eyes for help.
“Oh don’t worry.”, You chided.
“Yeah, she’s right.”, Amy agreed,”We always set up a place for you. Come on.”
With that, the Ponds walked back into the kitchen, while you and the Doctor remained in the hallway for a few more moments.
“Oh Doctor. We already had that today, didn’t we?”, You chuckled softly as you raised your hand again to wipe away his tears,”You know, I could get used to you happy crying.”
His entire face changed in seconds,”Don’t you dare.”, without another word, he pecked your cheek before following the Ponds into the Kitchen. You could hear the sound of their laughter chiming into the hallway.
A content smile sat on your Face. You were finally home, together with the people you loved most.
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bird-slayer-brainrot · 3 months
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Who? - Ineffable Husband watch Doctor Who - crack, fluff
"Mr Bond, you're truly a hero." the blond, bespectacled women said to him. It had been quite a victory, that much was true. The girl clutched Bond's arm, blushing up at him. "Mr Bond, it was ever so brave of scramoush scaramoush will you do the fandango.......
"Crowley, is that you?"
Crowley groaned. Blinking into awareness, Crowley pressed the phone to his ear. He really should change his ringtone. Leave your phone in the Bentley once and it thinks it has the right. "Yes, yes, hello Aziraphale."
"Oh dear," the angel paused for a moment, and Crowley pulled himself out of his covers and sat up. "Were you asleep? I'm so sorry for interrupting you. I'll let you get back to it."
"No, no." Crowley cleared his throat. The angel, to his credit, sounded genuinely distressed by the prospect of accidentally waking Crowley from his sleep. Crowley grimaced. "I was just getting up. What's the matter?"
Aziraphale was silent for a moment. The static buzzing of a tea kettle, knowing him, transferring through his end was all that could be heard.
"I'm afraid it's rather silly." That got Crowley's attention. He performed a quick miracle and he was dressed. Black sweater, black sweatpants (even demon's had lazy days, and he planned on gardening) and combat boots (to make up for the sweatpants). Aziraphale made a noise over the phone. "It's really not important. There was just something I wanted to show you, if... if you're not busy."
Crowley, of course, had nothing on. But Aziraphale wanted to see him so he was obviously free. Even if he had something on, he'd try and get... okay, no, that line of inquiry is well worn. He just wanted to see Aziraphale. He was bored yada yada.
"I'll be there." Crowley said into the microphone.
"Oh, good." Aziraphale's sigh transmitted through, and Crowley really had no clue then what it was Aziraphale wanted to see him for, and the angel wasn't telling him. "I'll see you soon. Safe driving."
"Never," Crowley responded, as usual. Aziraphale hung up the phone and Crowley sprung up and grabbed his keys.
Aziraphale was pacing.
Perhaps he shouldn't have called Crowley. It was ridiculous, this whole thing. But he couldn't, in good conscious, not tell the demon. It would be simply unfair not to. And Aziraphale was an angel, so he should be the one to tell him.
The bell at the door chimed. Crowley stepped inside, miracling his clothing dry. Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief.
"Crowley," he approached his friend, smiling as the demon propped himself a bookshelf. "You look cozy. How was the drive?"
The demon tilted his head and put a hand on his hip. "Uhh, fine." he finally spoke. That was good. That was very good. "So do you mind telling me what's going on?"
"Ah, yes." Aziraphale shifted, adjusting his cardigan, "Well, I stumbled across something that might be rather interesting to you. On..." Aziraphale paused, but Crowley, who knew Aziraphale's mannerisms as well as his own, waited. "the television."
Crowley smiled.
"Aziraphale..."
"Crowley."
And the demon laughed as Aziraphale led him upstairs.
It was unexpected.
They were in the small sitting room in the flat at the top of Aziraphale's bookshop. Crowley had only been up here on occasion. The room was like the rest of the space. There was a small, brown couch with a blanket and several homemade cushions; an antique coffee table covered with books, a newspaper, two tea cups and a half finished plate of biscuits; and a slim and small TV on the bureau. The curtains were drawn.
"This is cozy." Crowley said as Aziraphale sat on the couch and reached for the remote. Crowley took that as invitation to join him. And waited.
The theme of Doctor Who began to play, and at this, Crowley looked over at the angel. Aziraphale was watching the screen, adjusting his cardigan again. Several names flashed across the screen, then, the title, The Christmas Invasion.
The episode started to play. Ten minutes in, Aziraphale paused it, and slowly turned his head to face Crowley. Crowley was already looking at Aziraphale.
"That." was all Crowley said.
"I know." Aziraphale flinched. "I was just as surprised as you."
"David Tennant?"
Aziraphale shifted. "I was meaning to catch up on the series, before it got too far away from me." he tried to explain. "And, well, there's this." he gestured towards the screen, where a still image of David Tennant's sleeping face. The resemblance to the demon at his right was uncanny.
"And you thought this was my doing?"
"Well," Aziraphale shrugged. "I didn't know what to think, but you seem just as surprised by this information."
Crowley leaned back into the couch, pondering this for a moment. Then he shrugged, and got up.
"Wait, where are you going? You can't hurt him!"
Crowley spun around on his feet. The expression on his face was incredulous.
"Aziraphale." he said in a measured tone. "That is a human man. You want to watch Doctor Who, and so do I. I'm grabbing wine." then he turned away again, and walked out of the room.
Several hours later...
Aziraphale turned the TV off. They stared at the black screen.
"That was..."
A noise broke through the silence. Aziraphale turned his head, and Crowley turned his away.
"Crowley." he said gently. "Are you... crying?"
Crowley sneered at this and turned back to face Aziraphale. His face was dry, miraculously, and Aziraphale felt a wave of tenderness wash through him.
"Well," Aziraphale's hand itched to reach out and comfort the demon. On the screen, the Doctor walked away from the wall dividing him and Rose. Well, the wall that was actually a gap in the void. The theme swelled, and Aziraphale's heart clenched. He paused the episode.
"Next one?" Crowley said gently, and Aziraphale obliged.
Later, Crowley would deny ever crying at that episode. It was not brought up again.
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wildwallflower24 · 5 months
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Me waiting excitedly for my favorite author to post the fic I requested
(But also patiently because I respect that fic writing takes time and that authors have lives outside of Tumblr)
(Seriously though I love and respect every fic author on tumblr, and I hope you’re all having a wonderful day)
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doverstar · 24 days
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maybe tomorrow I'll post that tenrose oneshot that is the fanfic-writing equivalent of two scrambled eggs and the toasted end of a loaf of bread I threw together for breakfast
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yesokayiknow · 11 days
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Query: how do you kill a being that transcends time? That remakes itself? That braids its existence back and forth within the fabric of the universe? How do you kill a Time Lord? Answer: how do you undo a gordian knot?
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The Doctor gives Amy and Rory a set of, as far as he's obviously concerned, very clear and sensible instructions. A video on a DVD edited down by the TARDIS, subtitled even, on how to take care of him while he's in his temporary human-fobwatched state. Delivered to their home a day ahead of time, in a package including his sonic screwdriver, some bowties, a confusing variety of books, and several sets of "casual" "outfits." A letter with a basic description of the situation is taped to the top.
"Hello Ponds, I have an important job for you! I need to hide out as a human for a bit, and I need you to keep me out of trouble. I'll be there tomorrow. WATCH THE DVD!!!! Lots of love, the Doctor."
Amy thinks, oh for fucks sake, of course he's pulling something like this, and tries calling the Doctor, to no avail. Rory thinks, at least he bothered to warn us first, accepts his fate, and gets the spare room ready.
When they're done their self-assigned tasks, they watch the DVD with hopes the instructions will be nice, easy, and concise.
"One: don't let anyone, not even me, know who I am." "Okay, easy enough," Rory says. "Two: don't let me wear neon bowties, I have standards!" Amy groans. Rory checks the run time, and puts his face into his hands.
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Eleventh Doctor x reader where the Doctor discovers the reader’s art journal?
Fantastic
Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader
Summary: Ever since agreeing to come on the TARDIS with the Doctor, you've been documenting your adventures. And one day the Doctor finds your art journal and it's filled with images upon images of your adventures in time and space.
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it! <3
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You were always passionate about art, drawing or painting anything that inspired you. Except the world had been lacking inspiration, at least you thought so anyway. So when this strange man fell out of the sky in his magical blue box, it was like a miracle had occurred, like the universe had decided to offer you a solution to your problem.
And you'd been travelling with the Doctor for quite some time now, almost a year in fact. And during your time on the TARDIS, you'd been drawing all the wonderful things he'd been showing you. Your journal was practically overflowing now, it was bursting at the seams.
You'd never told the Doctor about your journal however, simply because you never felt the need to. But you would soon be forced to offer him an explanation as he was currently holding it in his hands as he stared at you.
"Is this a journal?" He asked, his brows knitting together in confusion as he looked down at it. He hadn't opened it yet though, to which you were grateful.
Heat crept up your neck as you stood there watching him inspect the bulky leather book in his hands. "It's nothing."
"What's inside it?"
You shrugged, unsure of why you were feeling so embarrassed by this, it was only filled with drawings. "It's nothing, really. Just, can I have it back please?"
He didn't protest as he quickly handed you the journal, looking slightly disappointed now as he began to back away. And it was that very look that made you break.
"Fine." You huffed, gaining his attention now as he stepped towards you again. "Here."
You held the book out to him and he carefully took it from you, as if it would break from the slightest touch. Maybe it would, it was looking pretty battered.
He gave you one last look before opening the book, casting his gaze onto the worn pages now as he took in your work.
"These are amazing (y/n)." He said, his voice quiet as he kept his eyes glued to the pages. And then when he reached a certain page, his face seemed to light up as he looked at you, an excited grin spreading across his face as he turned to book towards you, pointing at the page. "That's me!"
You were unable to supress a smile as your eyes scanned over your drawing of the Timelord. You'd done that last week. He was doing god knows what underneath the console, wires everywhere as he sat on his little swing seat, goggles strapped around his head as he scowled. And you were bored, so you sat and watched him, lazily dragging your pencil across the page as you attempted to capture that very scowl. You thought you were pretty successful.
"Why have you never shown me these?" He asked, closing the book now and tucking it under his arm as he frowned at you.
"I don't know, I just never felt like they were any good."
"They're brilliant, (y/n). Fantastic."
"Really?"
He chuckled then, his head bobbing from the movement. "Yes! Although, I'd prefer it if you drew me with a smile next time."
You couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips then as you stared at him. "Okay, I'll try and draw you with a smile next time."
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A/N: If this isn't what you were wanting, let me know and I'll be happy to rewrite it. But I hope you like this! Thank you for the request! <3
[Main Masterlist] [Eleventh Doctor Masterlist]
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lz-didyounotice · 2 months
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11th doctor Mission : Save the king
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This gif do not belong to me.
Heyy! This fic is a little longer then the last one. Wanted to do a propper adventure for the doctor and Clara to follow. This one is also cought in a time paradox. You will be presented as Jeanne du Berry, Favorite of the King Louis XV. I inspired myself with the plot of "The girl in the fireplace". Hope you enjoy !
Froggit-
Warning : Could be concidered Angst at the end, with a preestablished relationship. Mention of prostitution. As always, english is not my frist language.
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“Jeanne du Berry '' was one of the most beautiful women the 18th century had ever seen. From Lorraine to Paris, her beauty was jealous of many, as she attracted all eyes wherever she went. A tall and skinny figure, adorning wonderful pale skin. Her blue eyes looked so innocent, yet she knew how to make use of her charms. Her Long brown hair bleeding into blond as she walked amongst the sun.
She was also known as the favorite of the king, the one who had been part of his most desired dreams by the ladies of the court. Yet, by his side, she never wanted to change who she was and try to be another woman with the numerous étiquettes she was supposed to follow. It wasn’t her place to be. All she wanted was to love the king, make him laugh, let him know he deserved to be treated like a normal individual, to let his title aside when he was by hers. To love him for who he was, and not what he was supposed to be.
After the death of the previous queen, Jeanne rose to power. The king’s daughters all wanted to see her fall, to see her lying in the dirt like the prostitute she was. A whore who had no right to be by their father's side. 
Fortunately enough, Jeanne had what it took to ignore the pretentious princesses all too worried about their reputation to care for their father's feelings. And despite giving her best to be kind around her, something was lurking. Wanting her to be a part of something bigger. A piece of machinery well wired who needed guidance in the more gruesome ways.
As she entered her quarters, the king's valet was waiting for her. 
"Sa Majesté souhaite que vous l’honoriez de votre présence ce soir pour le bal..."
(His Majesty wishes you to honor him with your presence tonight for the ball...)
"Faites-lui savoir que je me présenterais avec joie à ses côtés."
(Let him know that I would gladly present myself at his side.)
—--------------
As the doors of a blue police booth opened, a little brunette had taken a look outside, outstanded by the beautiful scenery. 
The doctor hadn’t lied. Versailles was beautiful at this time of the year. In her dark blue dress, she also looked magnificent, a candy to the eye some would say. Her hair, up in a simple updo, refusing to wear one of those tall and overly done wigs (She had tried to before, but it was too itchy to even keep. Plus, if she needed to run, it would be a disaster). 
As she turned around, she fell eye to eye with the doctor trying to activate the chameleon system of the Tardis. For the occasion, he had put on a magnificent Blue-tailed coat, with an intricate chemise, adorned with a waistcoat of a darker shade of blue. He hadn’t put a wig on either and preferred to hide it with a magnificent officer hat. 
“Doctor, Hurry up, I don’t think we should be late for such an event! ”
“There is only so much I can do Clara !” Said the doctor trying to make the Tardis invisible.
“There seems to be something preventing her from disappearing… A force field or something of the sort. Which is weird since I closed the last one. ” He continued, still searching for the issue.
“Last one ?”
“Yes, well it wasn’t quite a force field, more of a time portal. Had a wonderful night with Madame de Pompadour on the occasion. Wonderful woman I might add.” He said while finally resolving their little camouflage problems. “Ah ha!”
“We may go now ?“ Pressed Clara, still waiting by the door.
“Yes !”
—--------------
The Ballroom was extraordinarily beautiful. Filled with too many of the richest people in the country. If she was being honest, Clara found it rather charming, yet felt a little uncomfortable around so many gorgeous women and men. 
Elbows locked with the doctors, the assembly awaited for the king to arrive, rearranging themself as he was announced. 
“Sa majesté le roi !”
As dictated the etiquette, Clara and the doctor bowed before him and returned to position once he had passed. The brunette found it rather hilarious, trying to retain a smile as she graced the floor. Checking for the doctor's eyes, she found him deep in thought, as if he had seen something he had wished to unsee. 
But before long another person was announced. 
“Madame la Comtesse du Barry !”
And here she was, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She wasn't wearing any fancy wigs, her hair let down on her shoulders, decorated with white and long feathers. Her dress was assorted to the cream-white coat the king was adorning. Her trail seemed to be as long as the ballroom as she gently walked towards him.
Once before the king, she presented herself, but as she did so, her eyes couldn't quit his, making the others start chattering, breaking the silence that once stood in the room. And as she did it two other times, Clara looked at the doctor, confused by what was happening before her. 
But soon enough, the chatter was silenced by the music starting, a soft yet charming baroque rhythm playing in the assembly. And as the crowd arranged to dance, The Comtesse had in mind something rather scandalous for both her and Her Majesty. Taking his hand in hers, she accompanied him to the middle of the ballroom and started dancing with him. As everyone stopped to look at them, the Doctor couldn’t stop himself from seeing something he would have wanted to avoid.
All he could see was the golden bracelet around her right wrist, a piece of jewelry he knew wasn’t what it seemed. A shimmer perhaps? Whoever was dancing with the King wasn’t the real woman, a copycat at best, and looking at most of the guests, some wore the same one, hiding it under exaggerated sleeves. 
“Doctor? Is something wrong…?”
“Very wrong…” Catching the girl's hand, he went to one of the hallways, trying to drown out the noise as he thought of a plan. “I guess I know now why I had so much trouble with the Tardis. We might have some uninvited guests… and a portal inside the castle.” He let out flapping his hands about.
“Why would someone want to invade Versailles in the 18th century? ”
“Lots of reasons…! An alien could easily overthrow someone else to get what he wants from it, by preparing a future terrain… Now, what I don’t understand is why choosing the favorite of the king and not the king himself.”
“Maybe he is the next target…? ”
“They would have already done it. Or-” Then it occurred to him that the king had been gone for months before the ball. Giving enough time for those who wanted to hurt him to take place within the court. “Or it was easier to blend in…” He turned toward Clara, excited by his breakthrough, but the frown on Clara's face made him get on track.
—--------------
Being attached to her bed was not really how she expected her reunion with the king. Her arms stretched too far for her to reach her feet tied to the end of the bed, unable to move. She was stuck and worried sick. Worried for her son, worried for the king- 
The room which seemed so calm and charming was now giving her chills as she knew she would soon be killed by those imposters. All of them had left her alone, wanting to partake in the king's murder. The silence was slowly killing her. She had tried to cry for help, but the music seemed too loud for someone to hear. 
Tired of her luck, she took a deep breath one last time and called, her vocal cords trying to hold as she begged to be let out of this situation. 
And soon enough commotion  was noticed by the woman, making her cry once more. Begging whoever was in the hallway to walk into the room. A weird whirring noise was heard, then the lock gave out, leading the door to open.
Before her, stood a tall youthful young man, with unruly brown hair, sticking up in some places. Behind him, a beautiful woman, seemingly the same age as him, wearing a magnificent blue dress. 
“Excuse me, sir…, do you happen to know how to get me out of those bindings ?”
“Please do not Sir… Just call me the Doctor. ” The man said while coming closer to the headboard. Using his sonic screwdriver manages to get her out of the metallic bindings.
“ The Doctor? What a particular name… Is it your occupation or is it a title ?”
“More of a title.”
“What a pity, your hands seem adept at such handy work.” Said Jeanne as her own were finally freed. Soon enough she was off the bed, standing before the two travelers. “Regrettably, there’s no time for discourse, for my liege is threatened with poison by one of those deceitful fellows. One has assumed my likeness, and I dread I may be implicated in the scheme.”
“We may be of assistance!“
“I would have expected as such.”
“Those individuals as you call them, what do you know of them ?” Asked clara, stepping beside the doctor.
"From what I saw, they resemble humans with crystal antlers protruding from their foreheads. Lacking noses, they still appeared capable of breathing. One among them spoke of a civil conflict back in their homeland, mentioning something termed 'the hour of joy,' if memory serves."
“Ow! How stupid could I be! Of course!” Said the Doctor, slapping his forehead frustrated he had let such information sleep through. “ To flee the war they had to have a way out. That’s why there is a time vortex opened. They want to kill the king so it would be easier to find a new home for their people in one of the most influential countries of her century.”
“Doctor? Do we have a plan ?”
“Need to find the portal and send them somewhere other than here.”
“How do we do that ?”
“Simple” The doctor confirmed while scanning the room. “As expected. Jeanne, has there been any renovation in your room while the king was away ?”
“A painting of the king had been installed in my room…”
“Clever! Now could you show me where that would be ?”
Not losing any time, Jeanne convail them in a small room, adjacent to the bed. A rather large library awaited behind. In the middle of the room, was a soft red sofa, invaded by all sorts of books and before it stood a medium painting of the king.
Putting out his sonic, the doctor took it upon himself to jump on a chair and try to open what was hiding the portrait. “Here you are” As the painting got off the wall, a mix of wires had been discovered, a large panel hidden behind.
After reversing its polarity, the doctor finally was able to close the portal. Making whoever wanted to enter it appear on another planet that wasn’t Earth. Now, all they had to do was to get the imposters back to their ship.
—--------------
Jeanne was confused, yet still grateful for the help of the doctor. The ball was still going, and the final moments were to arrive soon, her dear king would be taken away. With a loud bang, the doors at the end of each hall opened, leaving the Comtesse now the center of attention. 
She entered furious, still in the dress she had on this morning. Her corset was killing her, but running to get to the scene was not an option. The doctor had told her about the shimmers. How certain of the guests could also be traitors. But all you could think of was getting this imposter off her lover. 
“My liege! I fear I am not the one you are holding in your arms!” Jeanne was still running toward him, not caring about the looks the other guests were giving her. 
The music had stopped, and panic seemed to ensue as everyone saw double. Thanks to the doctor the situation was taken care of. Explaining what was happening to the king, it wasn’t long after he was out of the fake Jeanne's arms, trying to get back to his favorite. Still connected to their ship, the individual fled. The doctor promised them a safer and harmless way out. Welcoming them to an inhabited planet where they could thrive again.
—--------------
In the end, everything went well, no one was hurt, and the king was saved. He had even tried to get compensation for the help the doctor had offered. But he had refused, claiming it was just another Saturday for him.
Jeanne had followed the doctor and Clara back to the Tardis, wanting to know more about the two time travelers. It was irrational, yet she seemed to be attracted to this incredibly gentleman. Clara had gone ahead, entering the Tardis while the Comtesse stayed to discuss with the timelord.
“So, tell me. Am I to ever see you again?”
“We weren’t to meet in the first place.“ Let out the doctor.
"That is regrettable. I would have desired to learn more about you."
“You can always ask.”
"Can you be truthful? Your eyes betray a distant presence. Why must it be so melancholic?" Looking into his eyes, all she could see was dread, something old that still lingered.
“An old friend of mine had been missing. I searched everywhere, but I’ll find her at some point.”
"If she holds such significance to you, perhaps she is nearer than you anticipate."
“How could she be ?”
"I suppose destiny plays a role? And it's undeniable that you're attractive; I wouldn't fault her for desiring your return."
The doctor couldn't help himself but look at her. Something was screaming at him to look closer into it, to try and understand, but shoving a sonic screwdriver into someone’s face wasn’t a good approach.
“Have we met before ?”
"I don't believe we have. But something suggests it won't be the final occasion either."
“How can you be so sure ?” The Doctor said while trying to find out why he was so attracted to her.
"Life unfolds in mysterious manners. So do I. To my knowledge, no one is born twice."
“I can guess of a few species that can.”
“You're the Bowtie maniac, you should be the one who knows.”
The doctor looked as if he had seen a ghost. “I’m not -(A bow tie maniac)”. In the whole universe, there was only one person who called him this, that he accepted it from. Locking eyes with hers, all he could see was how old they seemed, how much they lived, despite seeming so young. But it made sense. After all (Y/N) had told him about certain past lives. Never giving a name to not disturb time paradoxes that weren’t meant to be. She did mention having had a peculiar life in the 18th century, falling in love with the king. But never would he have guessed for you to have been born as Jeanne de Becu. La Comtesse du Barry.
“Madame! Le roi vous attend !” They heard being called. The Valet of the king interrupted the many questions that had yet to be asked, but it was better to not know and let destiny be what it had done best. Reunite one another.
Jeanne felt there was something more and she wanted to know. But it would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it? Caressing his confused face with her right hand, she smiled at him. A simple smile, that made his hearts flutter. 
"I suppose this is merely a 'farewell,' Doctor. I'll see you when the time arrives, my Bowtie Maniac." And as her hand left his cheek, he felt his hearts hurt, being left once more by the woman he loved the most in the entire universe.
—--------------
Bonus : 
The Tardis felt silent, sad even. The tension was too much for Clara, and she couldn’t help herself from asking what was going on. Why was he looking so distraught, and was being so quiet as he brought her home?
“Who was she ?”
“Jeanne du Berry? Favorite of the King. A more pleasant way to say concubine. She was born in a monastery. But she became a lady in waiting, then worked in a brothel. She got the visit of a rich noble from the court that presented her to the king. It was love at first sight.”
“And to you ?”
“I didn’t know her by that name. At least never heard her mentioning it as one of her previous incarnations. She never wanted me to know.”
“Why would she hide it ?”
“Paradoxes. If I had known, I might never have wanted to meet the younger version of herself. Avoid it even.”
“What happened to her ?”
“I lost her” Seeing the sad face of Clara, the Doctor still wanted to see her smile, and stop worrying about what went through his head. “But I’m sure we will meet again. Travel together once more like we always did. I’m sure you two would love each other.” Finally let out the doctor full of hope.
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shuichiakainx · 3 months
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morganas-pendragons · 3 months
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All My Love | Twelfth Doctor
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@pompeiianbollockr
Set during the blindness arc in Season 10 because I love me some vulnerable Doctor. I don't care if it's not in Twelve's character. He gets to be vulnerable because I SAID so :D
He hasn't spoken to you since before you landed on the space station. In fact, it's been nearly a week. It's been nearly a week since The Doctor allowed himself to kiss you. To touch you.
And possibly the most devastating part.. to see you.
Self sacrificial. That was one of the best words you'd ever used to describe him in the time you'd known this face. This face. With all its quirks, and all the things he hates about it: The attack eyebrows, the lines, the wrinkles and the age... Despite all the things he'd hated about this face, the one thing he'd learned from traveling with you is that the faces didn't matter.
He truly believed you loved him for him. You knew it. He knew it. This, though... This was something he wasn't sure he was going to come back from. The Doctor had spent centuries gallivanting across the universe, running further and faster from home because he couldn't dare look back, with promises of adventures on his lips and desperation for escape in his heart.
"Tell me... am I a good man?"
You scooted closer to where he was sitting on the stairs and tentatively rose your hand to graze your fingertips across his temple and card through those unruly silver curls. He shivered at the sensation and forced his eyes open to meet yours as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The best man I will ever know."
He hasn't forgotten the feeling of your lips meeting the skin under his ear. Or the first time he'd kissed you of his own accord. Or the first time you'd marked him in the dead of night in his bedroom, where your lips had branded his skin. The way he'd linked your fingers together on either side of your head.
The sound of your voice calling his name. The sound of your voice in general, so soft and sweet and good...
That is something he clings to so tightly now. All the memories of the past - mere years for you, millions of years for him - that had opened his eyes to the truth: Despite all his misgivings and all his failures, he too was someone deemed worthy of loving.
You had brought a light into his life that The Doctor had not realized he'd been so deprived of. It was the light of humanity, of hope, of a heart far too big for this universe that nobody would ever thank you for. You deserved so much better than him.
And yet, you didn't want better.
You only wanted him.
He can't figure out why he's so... sad. There's an empty hole in his hearts and his mind where someone used to be, where the memory and the love of someone he cared for used to occupy, and the realization he cannot place who they are is angering him.
The Doctor has always been vengeful. The Oncoming Storm, The Valeyard, Timelord Victorious. He has rage written into the very essence of his bones and a desire to protect and save people in a way no one had ever saved him from himself.
"Hey you," You dragged your fingers across his shoulder blades as you came to sit beside him in the open doorway of the TARDIS. "Where did you go?"
That was one of the things he'd first recognized he loved about you. Despite this body having difficulties with physical affection and intimacy, he'd learned how to communicate with body language and gazes. Absent looks. Looks of adoration. Affection. Longing. That was all it took.
And you still read him like a book.
"Something's missing," He lightly knocked on his temple as you reached out and took his hand in your own. The Doctor let you. It was like he could feel the sunlight and warmth seeping from you into him. The light overwhelming the dark. "In here. There's someone who's supposed to be in here with the rest of them. I don't remember."
You did. You did, and Clara had made you promise before she flew away that you would never help him remember. That you would help him carry the weight.
"Maybe you're not supposed to. We're all stories in the end," You whisper. The Doctor softened as he lifted your hand to his lips and tentatively brushed them against your knuckles. "And maybe some of those stories become songs. Whispers of melodies and lines that hold the things we cannot remember."
All of his memories are composed in a form of music: Lines upon lines of melancholic notes in the minor key that is his endless life, with crescendos of bright notes meant to convey the optimism and light brought by the companions who travel alongside him.
And when they leave, the decrescendo extends over what feels like years, softening to a singular note that eases into silence.
Him, alone, on his own battlefield. That's how he feels right now. Battling the recognition that he may never be able to bask in the light again. That he may always be victim to the darkness.
So The Doctor lets the darkness win. He distances himself from you because it's better to face the darkness alone.
However, you are not willing to let him.
***
You know him. You know him better then you know yourself, and you have known him long enough to know his tells when it comes to how he keeps his secrets. How he lets himself lie. You are the only person who is able to truly see The Doctor.
You would be lying if you said you weren't hurt by his sudden distance. He hadn't done this since he'd recently regenerated. When he'd been resentful of his new body, of the world, and of who he was now.
You had lost count of all of the times that you had followed the sound of grief and heartache and despair into the darkness of his bedroom. All the times he'd turned you away. All the times he'd left you out in the cold of the TARDIS hallways.
All the times he'd finally given in and allowed himself to be held.
You'd been longing to do that again. To be the one being held, to be reminded that he did indeed still love you. The Doctor always went on about having ''a duty of care'' for you and for Bill.
Did your self hatred overwhelm your duty of care, Doctor? Did the coward finally win?
When Bill and Nardole had disappeared, you had stayed behind with The Doctor when he'd attempted to read the Veritas. You had been right around the corner when you were alarmed by the sound of pained groaning coming from within the cage.
"Cardinal, it worked. I can see. Not well enough. Not yet."
Dread bubbled low in your stomach as you approached the cage from behind. Hadn't his blindness been cured? What was he talking about?
"Think about the universes. Whatever you need, you can always borrow." He blinked heavily. Once, twice, three times to try and clear the haze from over his eyes. You were standing just outside of his peripheral vision. He wouldn't be able to tell you were there. And after shutting you out, after days of nothing.. This upset you. This hurt. "As long as you pay it back. I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes, but... I will be able to read this."
He slammed his hand on top of the Veritas. You weren't paying attention anymore. The next thing you knew, the lights were going out, and you were running to keep up with him even though he did not know you were there.
You tried not to let your hurt show. Or for him to hear it in your voice.
That would come later.
***
When all was said and done, you found him in the console room. He was still adjusting to learning how to identify when people were approaching based off of his other senses. It took The Doctor a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps approaching, but he did turn from his seat on the pilot's chair nearest to the console to where he thought you were standing.
He also didn't know that you were very aware he was still blind.
"Darling? Is that you? You should know that I always know it's you. Don't be coy."
"I'm mad at you."
His brow rose at that. "And why would that be?"
You walked forward to stand in the natural part of his legs. "For all of the times you have dragged me across the universe," You begin, swallowing your fear as you take both his hands and settle them on your hips while you settle in his lap. "For all the times I have had with you, the years I have known you. I never thought you'd be this thick."
The Doctor snorted. Did you not know this face? He was ridiculously thick headed.
"You should know by now that I am extremely thick," He argued, allowing his fingers to drift under the fabric of your cotton shirt and drum lightly against your hips. "Thick headed and arrogant and a selfish old man."
"An old man who forgot the first promise we ever made." You have yet to touch him. To properly touch him. ''Tell me. When did you forget?"
He struggled to keep hold of those memories. The early ones. When one has an infinite life, you do your best to hold onto what is precious.
"You can't." The Doctor had declared. It had been mere weeks since he'd regenerated, and he was so unsure, so scared. He did a remarkable job of hiding it. "You can't love me."
It was also the first time you'd properly been able to communicate how you felt to him. Eleven had called you, desperate and longing and begging you to understand, to remember that he's still The Doctor despite having a different face.
You had never had the courage to tell his younger face that you loved him. When Eleven had helped you to recognize the fear underneath that worn, aged face, you'd walked right back into the TARDIS and declared it with all the courage of a soldier facing a battlefield alone.
"I do love you. I have loved you. It took a while for me to recognize it, but I do. It's not a lie. It's not a trick or deception. It's me." You took your hand and placed it on his chest. He winced, though briefly, because this body was not quite ready to accept more physical contact than that. "Being brave."
"Promise me then. No secrets. No tricks." He murmured. You took the opportunity to close the gap of space between you, keeping your hand in its place as his grey eyes met yours. You shivered as he brought his own hand up to cradle your jaw. Your lips parted on their own accord as his eyes flickered down to them before slowly dragging his gaze upward to meet your own. "Promise me that you will keep them safe."
"Them?"
"Those fragile, beating things you've held in your hands since we met. Tell me," His breath fanned across your face as he hesitantly leaned inward. "What does it feel like to hold a Timelords hearts?"
"I asked you to keep me safe," The Doctor remarked. "That's not your job. It was an unrealistic promise."
"You're forgetting the beginning of that promise," You finally leaned inward enough that The Doctor could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He froze as you lightly tapped his sonic glasses. "No secrets. Take them off."
He did not move for almost a minute and a half. The Doctor knew that he should've seen this coming. He should've known you were clever enough to figure him out.
He removed one hand from under your shirt and removed the glasses willingly. Your heart hammered painfully hard in your chest as you were greeted with the familiar grey of his eyes. This time, however, they were cloudy. They were almost... dark.
"It never went away. I just didn't know how to properly tell you." The Doctor shrugged. "You deserve better. It's as I've said. Selfish old man, traveling across the universe with his best-"
He paused as you pressed a fingertip to his lips. The Doctor hummed and kissed your finger, reveling in the feeling of warmth tracing his face reverently.
"I wish you'd just told me." You murmured. You pressed yourself closer, dragging his hand up your hip until his thumb was pressing hard enough against your skin to feel your heartbeat. "You know me better than this. I love you. You have all my love."
"Even without my sight?" He asked. "I can't... I can't see you. And it's devastating."
That was a peculiar way to describe it. "What could be devastating about that?"
"You really don't know, do you?" He replied. You took both of his hands and slowly lifted them to your face, setting his thumbs against the curve of your lips. "It's hard to come to terms with the darkness winning when you've learned to love the light."
Oh.
"You can't see me," You whisper. You shiver as he drags his fingers across your mouth slowly, allowing them to travel across your face. "But you can learn how to find the light again. Darkness isn't forever."
You spent what felt like hours in silence after that. The Doctor allowed himself to drink in the warmth for the first time in ages, humming as you allowed him to relearn your face. The shape of your eyes. The sweep of your nose, the curve of your lips, the texture of your hair under his fingers.
When he was done, your breath caught as he tangled his fingers in your hair and dragged your head back just enough to expose the slope of your neck. "My love," His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Tell me, what does it feel like?"
It took you a moment to find your voice as he lowered his head to drag his teeth across your pulse point, followed by the warmth of his lips that elicited a shiver from deep within you. "What does.. What does what feel like, Doctor?"
The last thing he says is, "Being the light." Before he's capturing your lips with his own, and the light overcomes the darkness once again.
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parageist · 1 year
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hello tumblr i am a local silly autism person. part 196 refugee. not much to say about myself in this introduction, im just vibing B] i also am an artist and creator of the upcoming webcomic EXSPIRAVIT!
(ALSO HERE'S MY PATERON FOR MORE PROFESSIONAL STUFF)
THIS ACCOUNT IS GONNA HAVE HEAVY SPOILERS FOR THE MEDIA IM INTO SO BE CAREFUL⚠️i also don’t really have a filter lmao so be prepared to see me post some unhinged things (nothing nsfw though)
im really into RAIN WORLD, amulet (book series), yiik a postmodern rpg, doctor who, omori, mashup week:megamix, deltarune/undertale, undertale yellow, homestuck, pizza tower, jojo, satisfactory, tf2 characters, minecraft, twilight imperium, elden ring, across/into the spiderverse, disco elysium, and a bunch of other indie games and random things my autism finds cool lol. i like to draw, look at memes, and reblog cool things i find.
this account is a safe space for all and i dont engage in any sort of discourse but i sometimes reblog political stuff. just be chill and nice, that's my only dni criteria (along with zionists, pedos, racists, etc. fuck off)
HELP SUPPORT PALESTINE, CONGO, WEST PAPUA, SUDAN, TIGRAY, AND OTHER PLACES IN NEED
https://www.tumblr.com/randomthoughtswhileeatingdonuts/744096413677486080/congo
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goeldicotton · 7 months
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Little sketch for the fic I wrote at like 3 in the morning
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