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lz-didyounotice · 1 month

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Simplement Humain [Part 1]

Those gifs don't belong to me

Heyyyy! How are you lots? Following up the episodes of "Human Nature" and "The Familly of Blood", this fic will be in 2 parts. As in the original, Martha will be part of the trip, but will only consider the Doctor as a friend. Next up, will be a time paradox episode. Anyway, hope you enjoy it!

Froggit-

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Part 1 , Part 2

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Warnings : English is not my first language. Angst on some parts, but mostly fluff. Martha is not in love with the doctor. Preheastablished relationship.

Translations : "Simplement humain" : Merely human.

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Two months had swiftly passed since you had started your role as a nurse at the Farringham School for boys. Martha diligently fulfilling her duties as a maid to Mister John Smith, while you navigated the halls alongside Joan Redfern, the school matron.

Despite the woman’s kindness, your heart ached witnessing the unfair treatment Martha had to endure from her. While recognizing the societal norms of the era, it pained you deeply to witness your friend being the subject to such remarks. Though you longed to defend her honor, the fear of jeopardizing your employment forced you to a silent support, offering her solace whenever possible.

In the bustling corridors of the school, your presence remained veiled from the Doctor's awareness. To him, you were merely the assistant to the school nurse, a captivating woman with (H/C) tresses whose charm had begun to catch his attention. Concealing the depth of your feelings had proven to be challenging, each interaction with him reigniting what had been lost for several weeks now.

Your initial encounter had him wondering how someone he could have met for the first time could possibly feel so familiar. There was definitely something more to you, yet he couldn’t quite place it. This mystery made him want to know you even more, pry into your life in a more private way. And with each smile, he barely could hold his heart in place anymore.

With the passage of weeks, casual conversations evolved into a daily rendezvous, as if fate conspired to draw you closer. Martha, attuned to the subtle cues of affection between you and the Doctor, became a confidante in your clandestine courtship. Like two lovesick souls navigating the maze of emotions, your longing for one another grew palpable with each passing day.

—---------------------------

In the present moment, the confines of John's study provided quite the intimate setting as you meticulously sewed his scalp back together.

Upon discovering him struggling with an armful of books, you had extended your assistance, seizing the opportunity to learn more about the other. However, a casual mention of an upcoming dance at the vintage hall precipitated John's inadvertent tumble down the stairs, necessitating your immediate attention. As you deftly maneuvered the needle, John winced in discomfort, lamenting the pain.

"Stay still," you chided gently, your fingers working deftly to complete the final stitches. "You'll reopen the wound if you keep fidgeting."

"It hurts," John grumbled, his features contorted in anguish.

Acknowledging his discomfort, you offered reassurance, " I'm almost finished, just bear with me a little longer, Mister Smith."

Before you could secure the final knot, the door bursted open, admitting a visibly distressed Martha. Focused on your hands, John barely registered her arrival, his gaze flickering upwards momentarily. "Is he alright?" Martha inquired anxiously.

Completing the task at hand, you turned towards Martha, a reassuring smile adorning your lips. "He'll be fine, just needed a few stitches. No signs of concussion, if this was your concern."

“Thank you for taking care of him.”

Returning her gratitude with a wink, you snipped the thread with precision, signifying the completion of your task. Martha's relief was immense, by you attending his care there was little to no worry. In a bid to make amends for her abrupt intrusion, she volunteered in tidying the study, suggesting a reorganization of the many books strewn across the tables.

Observing your meticulous actions from his vantage point, John couldn't help but marvel at your grace and competence. "Perhaps you should rest for the remainder of the day, Mister Smith," you suggested, concerned for his well-being. "We wouldn't want you getting worse by tomorrow."

“Thank you again for dealing with this.” John acknowledged while pointing at the back of his head.

"It's all part of my duty," you reassured him, a sense of satisfaction permeating your demeanor.

Turning his attention toward his maid, John resumed their earlier discourse, starting to rumble once more. “So… I was just telling this Noble Matron, about my dreams, they are quite remarkable tales, hum”. As he continued he wasn’t even looking at Martha anymore, his gaze drifting once more toward you. “I keep imagining that I'm someone else and that I'm in hiding.”

Of course, in your little talks after school days, Martha had told you about him getting those weird ‘Dreams’. As if his memories began to bleed through, despite the chameleon arc.

“Hiding in what way?” You inquired, wanting him to take his attention off the stitches going down his skull.

“But almost every night” A smile formed on his lips. He was grateful for you to listen, and yet he couldn’t help but think that perhaps those crazy stories should be kept secret. “This is gonna sound silly” Shucking his head from side to side, he wondered if you would even be interested in this madness.

“ Please, tell me,” Gently placing your hand on his shoulder, you encouraged him to continue, to let loose what seemed to have been eating at him.

“I dream quite often that I have two hearts.”

“Well, I could be the judge of that, let’s find out.” Taking your stethoscope, you placed it on his first heart. Slightly bending over him, you felt yourself getting dangerously close to his face. Checking for yet another pulse, you only were met with silence. “I can confirm the diagnosis, only one heart.”

Standing up, you took the chance to put away the stethoscope, while John continued about his dreams. Looking over at his desk, at the small notebook neatly folded on it, he wondered about sharing his work with you. “I’ve written some of these dreams in the form of fiction, not that it would be of any interest”

“On the contrary, I would be very interested.”

Standing up from his seat, He started to go toward his desk, putting some paper covering the book away. Finally fishing it out, he handed it over to you, indulging you into opening it. “ I’ve Never shown them to anyone before.”

Passing through the different pages, you could only smile as you saw his handwriting. The small drawings, making it even more endearing, for each story had its illustration. “Look at these creatures, such imagination, ” You complimented.

“Yeah, quite a hobby”

“That’s wonderful.” Turning to the next page, you pointed out the beautiful face of a blond girl in the middle of text. ”Quite an eye for pretty girls”. John felt his cheek flare up as he told you about who he had remembered to be Rose. Looking into her wonderful eyes, you could only see why the doctor seemed so distraught the first week you had spent traveling with him. That blond girl was a sight for sore eyes.

As you stared at the next page, you thought your mind had been playing tricks on you. Pictured on the whole page, was the perfect portrait of your younger self. He had remembered her to be called Louise, yet didn’t seem to know who she was. He had come across her once and had managed to remember her every trait. Looking behind the girl, an army of what you had assumed to be sontaariens, seemed to follow.

Turning your attention to the next page, you came across a peculiar frame, he seemed excited to show you the drawing he had made of the TARDIS. “Oh! That's the blue box, it always seems to be there” Stars shining in his eyes as he explained. “Like a magic carpet, this fun little box seems to transport me to faraway places.”

“She’s beautiful...” You whispered with a slight smile. Fingers softly drifting on the colored paper.

“Sometimes I wonder how wonderful life could be if any of this was true”

“If it ever was true, could I perhaps get away with you?”

John seemed to be surprised by your wonders. “Why would you want to get away?”

Giving him a soft yet shy smile, you answered with an open heart. “I don’t know, the stars seem too beautiful to be explored alone.”

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Gun practice constituted an integral component of the boys' curriculum, a fact that left you unsettled as you observed John, the Doctor, instructing them in firearm usage. His usual aversion to violence starkly contrasted with the scene unfolding before you. In your mind, he was supposed to be the embodiment of pacifism, relying on his trusty screwdriver to resolve conflicts, always giving a second chance even to the most vile creatures. Yet here he stood, imparting lethal skills to impressionable young minds.

Your concern peaked as you witnessed Timmy's unfortunate mishap, prompting Redfern to spring into action, orchestrating medical aid for the injured boy. Following Tim from the corner of his eyes, John had soon remarked on your presence on the small elevated platform.

Coming your way, he seemed to be holding the brightest smile. “Ahh! Nurse Noble,”

“Hello, Mister Smith.” You replied with a small smile. Rearranging some hairs behind your ear, you felt a soft blush creeping its way up your cheeks. “I have finished reading your journal. I have to admit I quite liked it. I- I was wondering if you could tell me more about them?” You started a little hesitant. “Perhaps on a walk after school?”

His initial surprise soon gave way to enthusiasm, and he readily accepted your proposition. "Let me fetch my coat," he offered, eager to spend more time in your company.

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Walking alongside him through the tranquil streets of town, you savored the rare moment of intimacy shared between you and John. Discussing his drawings and the visions he hoped to capture within them, you found yourself captivated by the melodic timbre of his voice.

As John delved into his dreams, you were taken aback by his unanticipated honesty regarding your presence in some of his sketches. His admiration for you, evident in his words, caused your heart to flutter with a mixture of delight and bashfulness. Blushing profusely, you remarked, "I never imagined I'd be inspiring such dreams, Mister Smith..."

With a sheepish expression, John appeared equally flustered, attempting to divert attention from this unwanted revelations. "I... I tend to ramble, don't I?" he mumbled, his cheeks tinted with a hue mirroring your own.

“I found it rather charming.” You confessed, edging closer to his side. Trying to see what had caught his attention, you didn't have the time to react. He had already taken the cricket ball of a small child's hand, chucking it into a pile of metallic pipes. This had them fall onto a sort of catapult, sending a leftover brick to knock over a rather large barrel. This all stopping a stroller from getting crushed by an originally pristine piano.

Uttering a single word—"Lucky"—John's incredulous expression diminishing the pride he felt in his accidental heroism. Observing his clueless demeanor, you couldn't help but marvel at his innocence, even in moments of unexpected bravery.

“Miss Noble, may I invite you to the village dance this evening- As my guest” He finally let out as if he did not come to wake up a third eye.

“You, extraordinary man.-”

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“Tell me Miss Noble, you’ve never really talked about your interests. You seem to like astrology, but I can’t help but wonder about those small songs you’ve been humming in the hallway the other day.” Inquired John as he leaned closer to you, sitting beside you on the sofa.

“I didn’t think someone was listening.” Looking over at him, you felt the tips of your ears burn.

“It was quite charming.” He complimented, with a small smile. “Perhaps you could share some of your writings with me.”

Bewitched by his pleading gaze, you found yourself unable to resist his request, even if the songs you were singing were only expressions of your feelings for him. His sincere curiosity drew on your sensitive cords and you only could indulge in his wish.

Thinking back to one of those songs, you saw yourself hunched over his face, slowly stroking his hair as sleep had fallen upon the both of you. A rare occurrence you could only have cherished, softly singing into his ears, a song you had written for him, a candid reminder of your love.

“Promise me to not laugh. I think it’s one of the silliest songs I could have written. It’s not even in English.” You confessed, feeling a flutter of nervousness.

Gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, John's gaze intensified, his heart quickening. "Why would I laugh? You've listened to me talk about some rather unlikely adventures. It couldn't be as bad."

While trying to find your voice, you discovered in his eyes the will to stop doubting. In a sweet but powerful voice, you found the courage to address every word to John as you did with the Doctor. It seemed easier to think that he was always there, by your side. While the Doctor knew all the languages of the cosmos, John could barely grasp any of them. It intrigued him. The knowledge you seemed to carry, made him want to know you in even more intimate ways.

“J'avoue j'en ai bavé pas vous, Mon amour Avant d'avoir eu vent de vous, Mon amour Ne vous déplaise, En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions, Le temps d'une Chanson”

As the sound of your voice reached his ears, his heart skipped a beat. If he wasn’t already drunk with your sent, the melody you shared made him lose all his means. His breath, cut off by the beauty you were holding.

“À votre avis qu'avons-nous vu De l'amour? De vous à moi vous m'avez eu Mon amour Ne vous déplaise En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”

And as the next lyrics came to you, you could only look at him like you did the first time you ever sang to him. Your eyes, softening, love spilling out of every and each breath you took. Getting closer to him, your most beautiful smile making it's way on your lips.

“Hélas avril en vain me voue À l'amour J'avais envie de voir en vous Cet amour Ne vous déplaise, En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”

Your bodies, getting closer to one another each passing seconds. His hand, reaching out for yours as he got lost in your eyes. You, trying to lean in on his chest, hand gently brushing the fabric of his suit. Eyeing his lips more and more, contemplating the feeling of them again yours.

“La vie ne vaut d'être vécue Sans amour Mais c'est vous qui l'avez voulu Mon amour Ne vous déplaise En dansant la Javanaise Nous nous aimions Le temps d'une Chanson”

As your singing came to an end, you could feel the other so close, noses almost touching, while a small space was given for the one who wanted to escape.

Looking at him for approval, you only had time to take a small breath, your lips getting captured by his, in a passionate yet timid kiss. His hand resting on his thigh, he seemed so afraid to break you, seeing you in this exact moment as the most fragile thing he’d ever laid his eyes upon. Closing your eyes, you finally got lost in one another. And had you barely left his lips, you could see how shy he had become.

“I have never-”

Without saying a word, you got closer once more, capturing his lips in a much fierier kiss. It was as if you wanted to enter his vital space, your hand gently reaching his cheek needing to keep him under your sway for a moment longer without having to worry about what might well happen around the both of you.

But as he began to lean further into you, that damned door ended your ministration. His lips moving away from yours, you had finally heard him raise his voice against the poor Martha, trying to get her out of the office.

Looking over your shoulder, you felt your heart squeeze, her apron disappearing behind the door in pure embarrassment. But as your attention was spiked by this intrusion, you felt your cheeks become a different shade of red, the intense gaze of John’s eyes slowly returning to you.

Trying to get out of this uncomfortable state, you let out what seemed to be a poor excuse at first. But seeing the time getting dangerously close to the one you were to attend the dance, it didn’t seem as far-fetched as you thought. “I do believe it’s getting late. I better go get something to change into.”

“Good idea” Hearing the sad undertone to his words you gave him a gentle smile before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

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Hidden away in the dim confines of a small shed, you found solace in the company of the TARDIS, her interior a sanctuary despite her slumbering state.

Perusing the array of dresses adorning her walls, you marveled at their beauty, eventually settling on a stunning (Y/F) Greek-inspired gown. Adorned with delicate embellishments and layers of luxurious fabric, the dress exuded an ethereal charm that complemented your figure flawlessly.

With meticulous care, you selected the perfect accessories—a pair of comfortable shoes and an ornate headband—before hastily arranging your hair and applying a touch of makeup.

When you finally got back, only half an hour had passed, and as John appeared in the frame, all you could see was how wonderful he looked in his brand new suit. Showing him the bag containing your dress, he led you to the bathroom, leaving you to change into your evening attire. Thanking him, you quickly disappeared,swiftly donning the exquisite attire, even adjusting some of the bottom ruffles to make them look a bit more voluminous.

Struggling to fasten the buttons at the back of your dress you could only feel more frustrated by the seconds. Knowing you would probably be struggling for a few more minutes, you knew you needed John's assistance. Venturing through the corridors in search of him, you stumbled upon his partially open door, the soft glow of light emanating from within.

Knocking gently, you entered cautiously, holding your top even closer to your chest. "Mister Smith? I seem to require your assistance..."

Meeting his gaze, you were met with a mixture of concern and curiosity as you struggled to conceal yourself behind your dress.

“I can’t seem to reach the back… Could you perhaps help me out?” Your bare back now facing him, you were almost scared to feel his fingers on your skin. The cold yet warm touch of his fingers gently and efficiently buttoned up the back. Hearing the soft shift of the couch, you finally felt his hands, sending your back shivering as his breath tickled your neck.

“You look beautiful tonight Miss Noble.” He murmured, his eyes filled with admiration.

“Oh, please I told you to call me (Y/N)” you chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.

“Then, in this case, you may as well call me John.” John replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he completed the task.

Facing him, you couldn’t help yourself but get lost in those deep brown eyes. They were the eyes of a man you had sworn to love until your very last breath. A man you couldn’t even resist, who would have you wrapped around his fingers as long as he would exist.

Bringing you back to earth, you felt his fingers brushing against your cheek, and lean into it, even reaching up his hand with yours to keep it against your skin. This moment could have lasted an eternity, you wouldn’t have minded. You, kissing the palm of his hand with the softest lips, him getting hypnotized by your endless (E/C) eyes.

As you started to get closer, you couldn’t help the gut feeling of something bad only awaiting to happen. As much as you wanted to kiss him, you couldn’t stop it from invading your mind. Perhaps this night would be the last you would spend with him.

“John, I-” This couldn’t have been a worse moment, the loud sound of the door getting in the way of you both being so close. Martha tried to not panic, as much as it was difficult, practically out of breath. Looking up from her knees, the girl stared at you in distress, giving you a look you knew too well.

John seemed lost. Martha could have been forward in the past, but not to such an extent. “Martha-” Stopping John from giving her yet another lecture, you tried to keep calm and gave her directions. “Not now John. Martha, look in my bag, it’s under the sink. The key (Sonic) is under a fake layer at the bottom.”

“(Y/N) What’s going on?” Ignoring his request, you gave a reassuring nod to Martha before turning around to face John, letting the girl get out of the room. “What’s going on? You're scaring me.”

Taking a deep breath, you tried to find your words, not knowing how to tell him what was going to happen. “John…” You took his hand in yours. “My beautiful John… As much as I would like to pretend, I am as scared as you are. I had hoped to have a better moment to tell you this, but I don’t have that much time left.”

Trying to make sense out of your words, John could only think of you, having to go somewhere far away. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“I only found out about it this morning. They are sending me to an abroad school. Martha had been helping me get the paperwork together.” Trying to disguise the truth, you didn't mention the distressed look Martha bore as she exited the study.

The teacher felt his heart shatter “Is this our last night together then?”

“I’m afraid it is.” As much as you wanted to control the tear going down your cheek, you felt your heart break when his hand got to the side of your face. “I’m sorry to have not told you this earlier. I just… I just wanted to have one more normal day by your side.”

“It’s okay…” Leaning forehead to forehead, you passed your hand on the collar of his suit, straightening the already perfect fabric. Not wanting to give in to the tears, John tried to lift the spirit: “ We still got a few hours together. What do you say? Should we go now?”

“I think It’s a wonderful idea.”

#the doctor x reader #doctor who x imortal reader #doctor who x reader #10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #noble family x reader #doctor who #Platonic Martha #Spotify

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themswritinwords · 7 months

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Songs and Ships

Tagged by @athenswrites (many thanks!) and tagging @stesierra, @silvertalonwritblr, and @arigalefantasynovels (if you want, no pressure)

rules: write two to five songs that represent a ship between your ocs (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said wip (if possible!) underneath it.

I know you shouldn't play favorites with your (brain)children, but I'm going with my all-time favs, Evan and Rowan, from The Rockbridge Experiment.

I Guess I'm In Love by Clinton Kane

I mean, the title says it all. He fell first, she fell harder, a little obliviously mutual pining (and everyone around them rolling their eyes) later, they're the embodiment of "this might as well happen." But make it romance.

Have Rowan's "oops! Feelings!" moment.

If she’d been anyone else, he might have just done it. Acted on impulse and kissed her right then, two-weeks-acquaintance be damned. But if there was a way to ruin everything, that would have been it. You didn’t just accept having a crush on your brand new coworker, let alone act on it. Is that why he was so hung up on her? He saw a pretty girl, but she was automatically off limits, so his brain threw a fit and refused to let the idea go without closure. That was then misinterpreted as attraction. Desire. Whatever this was. Was that really it? The thought gave him a peculiar, distasteful feeling in the pit of his stomach and he frowned to himself, turning another corner. He… didn’t want it to be just some fleeting attraction. And it wasn’t, was it? Yeah, sure, that came with it, but… Oh gods, he liked her. As in, ‘I want to kiss you because I really like you,’ not ‘I like you because I really want to kiss you.’ He stopped midstep, heart pounding with both joy and terror at the realization that this wasn’t a cut and dry case of having the hots for his coworker. “Well,” he said, putting his hands on his hips, “shit.” What did he do now?

Pas Peur by L.E.J.

Is it cheating if it's in a different language? Not if the character speaks said language. A song for the spicy Cajun girl who built a huge chunk of her identity on being Not Scared Of Anything, but is deeply terrified of the fact that she's crushing on someone for the first time in her life. (Bonus points because she literally didn't realize it for 3/4 of the manuscript. I'm not getting over that.)

Have the Terror of Realization.

She glanced surreptitiously to the side, scanning Rowan for any hint of how he was interpreting it. He had his hair down, running his fingers through the ends as he watched the alley ahead of them with a residual smile. Evan’s stomach did that weird twisting thing again, and a tiny jolt went through her as something shifted into place in her mind. Something totally foreign to her, a murky, terrifying unknown slowly fading into focus as her eyes traced the angles of his face.

Falling, by Florence + the Machine

What can I say? I'm a sucker for the scared-of-vulnerability and helpless-descent-into-madness vibes. This one applies to both of them. They're both terrified in different ways and for different reasons-- Rowan because he's usually the smooth talking player who dates around and is always chill, and now he's totally off his game with the facade stripped away. Evan because she's never actually cared for anyone like this, and she also doesn't know how to be the vulnerable, needy one.

Alas, there's not a ton of other quotes I could draw from because Major Spoilers, but have a snippet of a lil heart-to-heart that was particularly fun to write.

“You know,” she said after a moment, “a while back you told me that if the detective thing didn’t work out, I had a future as a therapist.” She looked up with a smirk. “I didn’t realize you were projecting.” “Side effect of your mom having a doctorate in psychology,” Rowan said with a smile. “The analysis, anyway. The awkwardly saying it out loud uncalled for is all me, unfortunately.” “Hey now, you don’t get to give a speech like that and then go calling yourself unfortunate.” With no witty comeback to be had, he just chuckled quietly. “Thank you,” Evan said, quickly and quietly. “I… I think I kind of needed that.” “I meant it,” Rowan said. “You really are incredible.” Their eyes met and lingered in a warm, fragile silence. “I don’t know why this feels like the time to say it,” Evan said after a moment, “but for all the insanity and general screwed-up-ness of this whole situation… if nothing else, I’m glad it means I got to know you.” “The feeling’s mutual,” Rowan said quietly.

Maybe it's time to get back to focusing on rewrites and shortening this one. I forgot how much fun I had writing these kids.

#the rockbridge experiment #original writing #original character #rockbridge #tag games #writeblr #writing #writers of tumblr #urban fantasy

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