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mianavs · 3 years

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Thicker Than Water // PART 01

tags // haruchiyo sanzu x f!reader, historical!au, dark content (incest), smut, manipulation, implied grooming, morally grey characters, inspired by the tv series El Cid, scheming, fight for a throne, period-typical sexism, takeomi akashi, senju akashi, manjiro “mikey” sano, mentioned mickey x senju

note // first part dives right into the conflict. y/n confirms her suspicions, haruchiyo’s facade starts to slip, and takeomi throws y/n a curveball

wc // 3.8k+

extras // playlist masterlist @planetonet @tometpd

PART 01 // SUCCESSION

“The king is dead, long live the king!”

It was the mantra courtiers cried out in the throne room while you stood on the sidelines, watching and seething. Your hands fisted the skirt of your dress as your older brother, Takeomi, sauntered up to the throne where the Archbishop and crown were waiting for him. You shifted your gaze to the object of your desires, the golden crown, that almost seemed to tease you because, no matter how much you wanted to feel its weight on your head, it would never be yours. The lack of a particular appendage between your legs guaranteed you would never rule, no matter how much the man standing next to you insisted you should.

As if he had read your resentful thoughts, Haruchiyo pried your hand away from your skirt and laced his fingers through yours. Your heart rose to your throat at his shameless display and your eyes scanned the room while you tried pulling away from his grasp. When the two of you were in the clear, you gave him a pointed look and tugged on your arm again.

Haruchiyo met your sharp gaze with a seemingly playful one and a wicked grin that would have fooled anyone but you. He was someone you knew well, and you could make out the irritation under his facade that manifested in his tightened jaw and bruising grip. When you didn’t relent, he ever so slightly leaned into your ear and whispered.

“Your struggle brings more attention to us.”

You fought the urge to shudder from his hot breath in your ear and merely fixed him with a hard stare before returning your gaze to your brother, already on the throne with the crown resting on his head. Shifting closer to Haruchiyo, you hid your conjoined hands behind your skirt while he let out a quiet hum, stroking your knuckles.

“Long live the king!” the two of you chanted but neither of you meant it.

“Congratulations again, Your Majesty!” Senju, Haruchiyo, and you cried while simultaneously dropping into bows and curtsies. It was after Takeomi’s coronation ceremony and all of the courtiers had left, so it was only your three siblings and Takeomi’s sworn shield, Manjiro “Mikey” Sano in the throne room.

“There’s no need for such ceremony when it’s just us siblings!” Takeomi declared, raising each of you with a smile. It was the same smug smile he’d worn since the will of your father, the late king, had been read and declared him the heir.

“After all, I am your big brother before anything.” He shot a wink at your little sister, Senju, who giggled in response. You shifted next to her and Takeomi’s eyes traveled to you, his smile faltering.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, you are our king, first and foremost, and we are your loyal subjects.” You declared firmly, lowering your head. With your face hidden from Takeomi’s view, you shot Senju a reprimanding glare and watched the smile disappear from her face.

“We merely wish to show you the respect you deserve as our sovereign.” You continued and raised your head, a fixed smile already gracing your features.

Despite your respectful tone and words, you had already defied the king after only a couple of hours of being crowned and Takeomi knew that better than anyone. Your brother might’ve been a cocky beast of a man, but he wasn’t stupid. He regarded you with amusement for a moment before his mouth stretched into a smile and moved to stand before you.

“While I appreciate your devotion to me, dearest sister, blood is thicker than water.” He drawled and lowered his voice to a rumbling whisper. “It would do you well to remember that.”

‘It is you who should remember that!’

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from voicing your retort and merely lowered your head demurely in the way you’d been trained to do by your late mother and your nanny.

“I will keep that in mind, brother.”

“Good!” He exclaimed with a clap of his hands before turning his heel. You waited for him to dismiss the three of you, but your brother wasn’t quite done with you yet. He waited until Haruchiyo and Senju filed out of the room before speaking.

“I want you to join me tomorrow for breakfast, Y/N.” He turned around to face you, the royal cloak whirling around his tall frame in ripples of violet velvet. “There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

“Your wish is my command, Your Majesty,” you replied stiffly and broke into a low curtsy to hide the displeasure that no doubt reflected on your face.

While turbulent thoughts occupied your mind, your feet took you directly to the only person you could confide in. By the time you snapped out of your daze, the maids were scurrying out of the bathroom and Haruchiyo stood before you in only his loosened chemise and smallclothes.

A smirk spread across his mouth, stretching the two ugly scars at the corners. “Are you here to bathe me the way you used to, sister?”

You rolled your eyes at his use of the title he claimed to hate but still approached him until you stood before him. He quirked a delicate pink brow but stayed silent, bending over and watching you grip the hem of his chemise to pull it off him.

Suddenly, he reverted to the wild child he’d once been when your father had summoned him back from the country, and you were his older sister that had helped him bathe, taught him courtly manners, and held him tightly during his fits of rage. Melancholia tugged at your heart as you dropped the piece of clothing on the table next to you and resisted running your fingers through his soft pink hair the way you’d done when he was still a touch-starved child.

And just like that, Haruchiyo once again became a man before your very eyes by standing up straight and towering over you.

You couldn’t help but admire his lean muscular build, pale skin, and pretty pink nipples. Your eyes immediately went to work counting the silvery scars that littered his body, searching for fresh ones. An angry red one under his left rib cage caught your gaze and you tutted in reproach before tentatively tracing the ugly red mark with a feather-light touch. His breath hitched in his throat but you ignored it and continued to examine his scar.

“How did this happen?” You tore your eyes from his body and met his lidded gaze, peering down on you. His sky-blue eyes widened fractionally before he looked away, a dust of pink spreading across his pretty face.

“During my investigation in town. I had a… scuffle with some people an–”

“Did they discover you?!” You demanded, splaying your hands on his naked chest. His eyes were on yours in an instant, narrowed and full of suspicion.

“No, I got rid of them,” he bit out. At his admission, your entire body relaxed, allowing you to take care of your miffed little brother. Your hands traveled up his chest, to his collarbones, and settled on the sides of his neck with your thumbs resting on his jaw.

“You did well, Sanzu,” you praised, using the nickname he only allowed you to use. “Takeomi cannot know that we’re investigating father’s death.”

You waited until he relaxed underneath your fingers and nodded his understanding to ask him about his trip. “Did you find out anything important?”

He nodded. “You were right, Y/N. Mikey hired a middleman to purchase a rare poison and then eliminated him the night before the late king fell ill.”

You didn’t chide him for not referring to your father as ‘father’ the way you normally did and instead beamed up at him before pulling him into an embrace.

“Thank you,” you murmured into his skin, taking in his sweet musky scent. “We’re this much closer to bringing down Takeomi and having you take your place on the throne.”

Haruchiyo’s arms wrapped around you and drew you in closer until the space between you was eliminated. He buried his face into your neck and breathed in your scent, nuzzling the way he used to as a child after getting reprimanded by everyone around him.

“You know that I love you more than anyone, right?” You said, running your fingers through his soft pink locks as a reward for his obedience.

He didn’t respond, choosing instead to let his hands wander south over the curve of your rump and north to the laces of your gown. You stiffened in his embrace while his hand groped the supple flesh over your skirt and your laces were loosened, exposing your thin shift. It wasn’t until his mouth pressed a hot kiss to your sensitive neck that you pushed him away.

“That’s enough, Haruchiyo. I’m your sister and I demand respect.” You quickly turned away from him to fold the chemise you’d discarded, doing your best to dispel the growing heat between your legs.

You waited for the apology that usually followed when he tried to cross the line with you, but it never came. Instead, he pressed you against the table, wrapping his fingers around your neck and cupping your sex over your skirts. A sharp gasp escaped your lips when you felt his hardened member grind into your ass.

“Don’t you dare deny me this, Y/N.” He hissed into your ear, fingers pressing into your sensitive bud. “You’re the one that started this years ago.”

His hand turned your face to him, and you were taken aback by the dullness in his widened blue orbs and the twitching grin on his scarred mouth. It was the first time you felt something other than love or pity for your little brother. At that moment, you were overcome with unadulterated fear that Haruchiyo took advantage of with a hungry kiss.

As he slanted his lips over yours and ran his hot wet muscle over your bottom lip, a strange feeling of pride spread across your chest in knowing you’d taught him everything he knew when it came to giving you pleasure. He knew exactly where to lick, bite, and suck to send you into an aroused frenzy that left you flushed, panting, and melting into him.

He broke your kiss first, leaving you lightheaded before his mouth traveled down your jaw to your neck while his hands hiked up your skirts.

“Haru! Y-you can’t!” you protested, trying to stop him.

“Sanzu,” he gritted, biting down on the crook of your neck and drawing out a cry from your lips. “When we are together, you are to call me Sanzu.”

With tears in your eyes and your skirts bunched up around your waist, his fingers parted your slickened folds and furiously worked your hardened nub. He shuffled around behind you until you felt his hot throbbing member slide between your legs, coating itself with your arousal.

“Since I did so well, I deserve a reward, don’t you think?” he groaned and continued his ministrations until you were shaking like a leaf. “And all I want is your pretty cunt wrapped around my cock. You’ll let me claim my reward, won’t you sister?”

His fingers pinched your clit when he spit out the familiar title, and your orgasm washed over you like waves crashing onto a bed of rocks. You mindlessly clung to your brother as the aftershocks of your orgasm pulsed through your sex. It wasn’t until Haruchiyo pushed you over the table that you came to your senses, knowing what he intended to do. In that moment of clarity, you turned around forcefully and struck him across the face.

“I’m a princess, not a whore! You will not bend me over and take me like a bitch!” You snarled, matching the anger he emanated as his hand gingerly touched his reddened cheek.

Like a mother after disciplining her child, guilt bloomed in your chest and tears stung your eyes as you took his face into your hands, pressing feather-light kisses over the warm red mark.

“I-I’m sorry, but you understand me, don't you?” Your arms wrapped around his torso and you pulled him into a hug while you moved back onto the table. With his warm body pressed against yours, you let yourself succumb to your carnal desires. “I taught you better than that, didn’t I?”

At your shift of tone, you saw his anger turn into lust while you hoisted yourself up on the table. Dragging your hand down his chest, you watched with pleasure as he shivered from your touch and seemed to beg you with his beautiful blue eyes.

“What is it, my darling boy?” you asked as your hand trailed down to his navel and went even further, wrapping itself around his raging erection.

“I want to touch you,” he gasped, shaking as you pumped your hand. “Please, let me touch you.”

“Do you remember how?” You snapped, tugging on his cock and watching as a bead of cum coated the tip. He nodded furiously as he peered down at you, panting and blushing prettily.

“Alright, you can claim your reward now.”

Sanzu fell to his knees in an instant and you helped him along by pulling up your skirts and spreading your legs. With one last look up at you, he buried his face between your legs and you bit back a moan.

He licked a stripe up your slickened folds before settling his lips around your clit and sucking on the hardened nub. Your fingers dug into his pink locks while your other hand splayed on the table behind you for support. When your entire body started to shake, Sanzu released your swollen nub and his tongue delved into your tight hot cunt. You cried out but held his head firmly between your legs, grinding your hips into his face as he fucked you with his tongue.

When you felt your orgasm near, you pulled his head away and admired the way your arousal coated his scarred smiling mouth. Sanzu caught his breath and peered up at you with pure adoration in his eyes. Tugging on his hair, he stood up obediently and kissed you so you could taste your cum on his tongue.

As Sanzu kissed you, you felt his cock prod your cunt a couple of times before he inched himself inside of you. When he bottomed out, the two of you groaned into your kiss from the bliss of being conjoined once again after months of abstaining from the act. Your hands roamed to Sanzu's back while his hands snaked around your backside and gripped your bare ass before rocking his hips into you.

When Sanzu’s cock dragged against your fleshy walls and sent jolts of pleasure down your toes, it was so easy to forget that the two of you shared the same blood. When his tongue slid against yours and claimed your mouth, you forgot he was your brother. When his fingers and teeth dug into your skin and marked it as his, the fact that you had taken care of him like a mother slipped your mind as you drowned in the pleasure he gave you.

“Fuck! Gonna come!” Sanzu groaned against your shoulder but didn’t pull away from you, tightening his hold instead. “Wanna fill you up.”

“No!” You snapped, pushing against his chest. “Only when you become king! Do you hear me!?”

He grunted in response and loosened his grip, pulling out in time for his cum to coat your dress instead of your womb. He collapsed into your arms, panting and shaking from his own orgasm, while you caressed his hair and pressed butterfly kisses from his cheek to his neck. You held him until his breathing evened out and his arms wrapped around your frame.

“Now, how about that bath?” you asked, pulling away from him. His lips formed a pout as he peered down at you, and unable to hold yourself back, you pressed a chaste kiss on them. “I’ll join you if you help me undress.”

At your offer, his face lit up almost instantly before his hands went to work undoing the rest of your laces, while you laughed at his eagerness and helped him.

By the time you finished bathing and waited for Haruchiyo to fall asleep, it was far too late for you to leave his quarters through the front door without drawing suspicion, so you resorted to using the secret corridor.

It was a narrow path within the castle’s stone walls that connected your chambers to those of your younger siblings. You’d discovered it as a young girl and used it to comfort your baby sister after your mother’s premature death. When Haruchiyo returned home after ten years, you assigned him the empty rooms that the corridor also led to and thus began your influence over your siblings unbeknownst to your father and older brother.

With only a candle to light your way, you moved with a swiftness only a person that knew the corridor like the back of their hand could. As you came to the door that led to your antechamber, a brightly burning fire approached and you watched Senju tentatively approach you with a torch in hand. She smelled like sweat and dirt which told you she’d just gotten back from her training with Mikey.

“Did you find out what I asked?” You demanded, forgoing formalities with her.

“Mikey did leave the castle grounds last week and didn’t return until morning. He confirmed it himself.” Senju replied, the bitterness in her voice not lost on you.

“That will be all,” you nodded, side-stepping her to reach for your door. “You may go–”

“You were with him, weren’t you?”

You froze at Senju’s question that was more like an accusation before turning to her with a retort ready for attack.

“A bit late for sword practice, don’t you think?” You took a couple of steps toward her until you saw the panic written all over her face. Satisfied with her reaction, you leaned in and sniffed your little sister’s hair. “You reek of Sano, dearest sister. I wonder what the king would do if he found out his right-hand man was teaching his baby sister how to handle another type of sword.”

She staggered back until her back met stone and the fire of her torch illuminated the horror in her jade eyes. “Y-you wouldn’t dare!”

You cornered her and slammed your palm against the wall next to her head. “Then I suggest you adhere to our agreement, Senju. I turn a blind eye to your relationship and you keep your nose out of my business unless I say so.”

You waited until she nodded before pressing a kiss on her brow and caressing her hair that reminded you so much of Haruchiyo.

“Sweet dreams, little sister.” You murmured against her skin before turning your heel and crossing the threshold into your chambers, thoroughly pleased with the progress of your plan to bring down Takeomi and rule through Haruchiyo.

“The time has come for you to end your studies, Y/N."

You need to focus on your lessons with your nanny and Father Shiba.”

“But Father, I am excelling in my studies! Even Takeomi has yet to catch up to me!”

“Insolent girl! When will you realize that your place in this world isn’t on the throne but behind your husband, serving him and raising his children.”

“We both know that if I had been born male, you would have passed over Takeomi to make me your heir! What difference does it make if I have a womb instead of a cock?!”

Your father, with only a few wrinkles and more dark hair than grey, peered down on your adolescent self with a mixture of abhorrence and disappointment. It was a face you’d see constantly whenever you bested Takeomi in your studies, diplomacy, and military strategy. A face that even in death, still haunted your dreams to remind you of your place. Unfortunately for your late father, your strong will had been forged by his disdain and disapproval and his nightly visits only spurred you on.

While your dream usually ended when you reached out and dissolved your father with a wave from your hand, this time his face altered until he became Takeomi with the crown atop his head and a mocking smirk on his face.

It was that same face you met the following morning in his solar. There was a light spread of breakfast foods on the small table near the window where he stood, peering out at the commotion below. He remained immobile, not even greeting you until you stood next to him.

“Do you know what makes a kingdom strong?” He asked, watching the knights training in the courtyard while ladies watched from a distance, giggling and chattering amongst themselves.

“People,” you replied, confident in your answer.

“Bonds, Y/N. That is what makes a kingdom strong.” He finally turned to you and the calm smile on his face set off warning horns in your mind. “Without bonds, people have no reason to remain loyal to a ruler.”

It felt like a lesson and a threat all at once. He didn’t sound like the odious older brother he’d always been but like your father—like a king.

“Shall we eat?” he asked, moving to the table before you could even respond. It wasn’t until the sound of the wooden chair scraping the stone floor echoed in the room that you took the seat your brother had pulled out for you.

“Thank you,” you managed to mumble, averting your gaze to the golden platter of food on the table.

“You’re welcome, dearest sister.” He replied with a sweetness that made your skin crawl and the little appetite you had, disappear.

You managed to nibble on some fruit and cheese before your brother finally addressed the reason behind your visit.

“You’ve been of age for some years now, haven’t you?” He spoke and proceeded to take a sip of wine. Your blood ran cold as the lesson from the window and his smile all came together with his question and everything pointed towards one possibility—marriage.

“Yes,” you admitted, the bitter taste of defeat fresh on your tongue.

“As a princess, I’m sure you’re aware of your duty to strengthen the kingdom by creating bonds domestically or with other kingdoms.” He took a bite of bread and looked up at you with a menacing look of warning that left you unable to speak. Wringing your hands together beneath the table, you nodded stiffly and waited for him to give you your sentence.

“In your case, it will be a domestic bond with the Duke of Roppongi, Ran Haitani. He has asked for your hand and I have given my blessing.”

And just like that, Takeomi exerted his power over you as your brother, guardian, and king while you were left sorting through your scrambled thoughts for a way to overcome the newest obstacle in your fight for power.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #sanzu x reader #sanzu smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x you #tr x you #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #sanzu haruchiyo x reader #sanzu x you #sanzu haruchiyo x you #sanzu haruchiyo #akashi takeomi #akashi senju #manjiro sano #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tr fanfiction #tw:incest #navs.tr

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tenroseforeverandever · 3 years

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A Bottle of Bubbly

Characters: Ninth Doctor; Rose Tyler

Tags: Human AU; New Year’s; meet-cute; fluff; hurt/comfort;mentions of cheating; non-graphic mentions of war; drinking; strong language

Notes: Well, here I am again… fashionably late, as usual, an entry for the 31 Days of Ficmas. I wrote just two stories for Ficmas this year, and while I used multiple prompts for each, ironically, the Day 1 prompt, Snowed In, and the Day 31 prompt, New Beginnings, were the forces chiefly driving the muse for my first and second (last!) story, respectively.

The inspiration for this story was a random prompt I found online somewhere (I don’t even remember the exact wording…) The @doctorroseprompts prompt from the 31 Days of Ficmas, New Beginnings, was also inspiration for both main characters, although the words aren’t specifically stated in the text. But the spirit of them is strong and a guiding theme throughout the story. I also used the Ficmas prompts shopping and countdown, and the Winter Fic Bingo prompt night.

As always, my love and gratitude to my wonderful betas, @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci. Thank-you for making me better. I’m an eternal fiddler, so I fiddled with this since they saw it… but all mistakes are mine anyway!

Summary: Rose made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly. The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

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A Bottle of Bubbly

Rose Tyler staggered out into the night. The pub door swung shut behind her, silencing the raucous shouts and cheers and endless chatter. As she stood on the doorstep, the bubble of silence clung around her like a hug, before dissipating into the city, replaced by the steady rumble of traffic. She took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill her lungs and clear the spinning of her head.

She was alone.

New Years-fucking-Eve and she was alone. Not exactly how she had planned her evening to go, but she swore to herself, it was the last bloody time, Jimmy Stone, her cheating ex-boyfriend, would ever get another chance to ruin her life.

But Rose didn’t want to think about him right now. He was now officially part of her past and could rot in hell for all she cared. What she did want to think about was enjoying the rest of the night and bringing in the New Year properly plastered. She’d already made a decent start of it with a couple glasses of wine and a few shots. She supposed she could try out a few different spots (far away from Jimmy-the-Wanker), and do a regular old pub crawl, solo-style. Dressed to kill, she reckoned she’d never be without a drink in hand and would probably have no trouble finding a bloke to pull.

A car whizzed by, drunken twats hanging out the passenger windows, catcalling at her, spouting some shite about having her “seeing fireworks all night long.” She tugged her coat tighter around herself and sighed. On second thought, shagging complete strangers wasn’t really her thing. Maybe she could meet up with Mickey, instead, at the local near the Estate. With a little coaxing, he might take her home for a cheeky shag to bring in the New Year. It wouldn’t exactly be fireworks, but it would be safe and familiar. And she wouldn’t be alone. Mickey had never been able to say no to her.

But then – she sighed, and her shoulders sagged – she’d have to explain herself, answer all his nosy questions, admit things she’d rather keep to herself for now. Everyone would know, soon enough. No doubt the Estate would be rife with the gossip of her falling-out with Jimmy by daybreak. Besides, she’d be taking Mickey away from Trisha Delaney. That wasn’t fair, doing to Trisha exactly what had just been done to her.

“For fuck’s sake,” she snorted as she stumbled onto the pavement, her head woozy with drink, “I’m worried about hurting Trisha Delaney’s feelings. The stupid cow! Clearly, I’m thinkin’ too bloody hard about this. More to the point, I’m able to think too bloody hard about this. And I’m talking to myself… Blimey, I need another drink.”

Setting out on her quest for another pub (just for drinks, no pulling, she reminded herself), she tottered down the street, swaying precariously on her too-high heels, tugging down her too-short dress as the bitter wind bit through the too-sheer fabric of her tights. This was rubbish, hopping from pub to pub. All she really wanted was something strong to drink, her warm flat, and her telly. She’d be alone, but she’d be warm and, with any luck, thoroughly pissed long before midnight.

Decision made, she hopped on the nearest bus, and half an hour later, with the effects of her earlier drinks lamentably wearing off, she trotted into the 24-hour Tesco, close to the Estate. She made directly for the liquor aisle, determined that what she really wanted to bring in the New Year was a bottle of bubbly.

The shop was nearly deserted, except for the unlucky few employees who had drawn the short straw for the night’s graveyard shift, so she was shocked to find another customer in the liquor aisle, standing in front of the wine shelves, his hand around the neck of the very last bottle of sparkling wine.

“Oi! That’s my bottle, mate!”

The man turned to her, his brow knit quizzically above his aquiline nose. “Excuse me?” he challenged in a strong Manc accent.

“That’s my bottle,” she reiterated.

“No,” he placed the bottle into his shopping basket with a tight-lipped smile, “it’s not.” Without another word, he turned his back to her and walked away up the aisle with long strides.

“Fuck,” Rose muttered through gritted teeth and rushed after his receding form. “Oi, Mister! Mister!” She caught up with him just as he reached the end of the aisle and she tugged on the battered leather sleeve of his jacket.

He swung around, rolling his eyes at the sight of her. “Oh, it’s you again!”

“Yup, jus’ me. Hello! The owner of that bottle of fizz.” She sidled up to him and flashed him what she hoped was a winning smile. She even poked her tongue between her teeth. That always had blokes dribbling on their shirts.

Much to Rose’s disappointment, the man remained unmoved, stony-faced as ever. Then with a snort, he turned and walked away from her once more.

“Oi! Mister!” she yelped, scurrying to catch up to him again. “You can’t jus’ go swannin’ off like that…”

He didn’t even break his stride. “Yes, I can. ‘Ere I am. This is me, swannin’ off.” He gave the shopping basket a defiant little shake.

Rose knew she should just give it up at this point, go back to the liquor aisle and find something different to drink, but she was determined to have that wine. After having had her night ruined, she reckoned she deserved to have something special. “Hey, Mister! C’mon! You can’t just walk away. That’s not fair. Mister! Mist– Oooph!” She nearly crashed into him when he suddenly stopped in front of her.

He spun around and glared at her. “Seems fair enough to me. W’at isn’ fair is you not lettin’ me do my shoppin’ in peace. Now, scram!”

Rose held her ground, meeting his gaze. He was a striking figure, quite a bit older than she, dark and brooding, his features unconventionally handsome below his military haircut. She should have been intimidated, but instead she found herself getting lost in the blue of his eyes as they flashed down at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I could call security, ya know! Tell them you took it from me. So, it’s your choice. Hand it over, or I’ll start screamin’ for help.”

He scoffed. “Is that supposed to sound tough?”

“Sort of.”

He called her bluff, “Doesn’t work,” and started walking again, but this time she tripped along by his side. She wasn’t going to let him go, not while he still had that bottle.

“Mister… I need that wine! If you knew what I’ve been through tonight…”

“You need to leave me alone. Looks to me like you’ve ‘ad quite enough to drink already.”

“C’mon, Mister. Please.”

“No! An’ it’s Doctor.”

Rose quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You keep calling me ‘Mister’. If you’re so set on using honorifics, you’d better use the right one. I go by Doctor.”

“Doctor? Is that supposed to sound impressive?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“If you’re a doctor, how comes you’re shoppin’ at a 24-hour Tesco… in Peckham?”

“I live ‘ere. Jus’ ‘round the corner.” He stopped at the deli counter and tossed some packages of sandwich meats and some cheese into his basket.

“What? On the estate? You must be new. I haven’ seen you ‘round ‘ere before.”

“That’s ‘cause I jus’ moved in this afternoon, me, and I’m having this champagne (or whatever the hell it is) to celebrate.”

“Blimey, don’t think we’ve ever had a doctor livin’ on the estate, before.” Rose narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him, curious. “W’at’s a doctor doin’ livin’ ‘ere anyway?”

He didn’t speak, just stared at her with eyes cold as ice, and his jaw set and tense, and Rose bit her lip, wishing she could take back her brazen words. It was none of her business why anyone might need council housing.

“Erm... Doctor, you’re gonna need some bread to go with that other stuff,” she ventured, attempting to make up for her thoughtlessness, “an’ some milk and tea, maybe some eggs. And a couple cans of beans. Ya can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” She linked her arm with his and proceeded to lead him through the shop.

As Rose nattered away to him, he maintained a detached silence, except to offer bewildered grunts to her various queries about the items she heaped into his basket. Finally, as she placed a box of tea on top of the mound, he smirked down at her, and spoke: “I hope you’re not attempting to curry favour so I’ll give up the bubbly.”

“Never gave it a second thought,” she fibbed with a cheeky grin. Honestly, she just wanted to make it up to him for being rude, but she had hoped, maybe…

He pulled the bottle out of the basket to peer at it. “It’s proper British Fizz, you know.”

“Oooh, lovely! Somethin’ a bit posh. Don’t know w’at it’s doin’ here, in a Tesco on the flippin’ estate. Guess they reckoned people wouldn’t be thinkin’ about the cost so much when they’re bringin’ in the New Year.”

“Yeah, gonna cost me an arm and a leg, this is.”

“The price don’t matter to me. Not tonight. I’d be happy to take it off your hands if you’re having second thoughts…”

“Ahem… nope.” He placed it back into the shopping basket. “Worth every penny, this. I have plans for this fizz.”

“Yeah,” Rose muttered, rolling her eyes, “so did I.”

They headed toward the checkout each lost in their own thoughts. “So, what’s your story, then?” he asked after a few moments. “Tell me, what makes you so deserving of this posh beverage on New Year’s Eve?”

Rose shrugged, her problems seeming rather small and distant, now.

“C’mon then. You said earlier, you’d had a rough night of it. So?”

“You sure you wanna hear me rattle on? It’s pathetic, really.”

“I’ve been listenin’ to you rattle on non-stop for the las’ twenty minutes, anyway. So, I’m all ears… and no jokes about these silly things hangin’ off the side of me head.”

“I would never! ‘Sides, there’s nothin’ wrong wi’ them. They suit you.”

He looked unconvinced by her compliment. “Well… out with it then,” he insisted, changing the subject back to Rose as he began to load his groceries onto the checkout counter. “I’m waitin’ on this great tale of woe.”

“Alright, you asked for it.”

“Yes, I did!”

“Okay, so, earlier tonight, I found my tosser of a boyfriend (ex-boyfriend now, by the way, and good bloody riddance!) out back of the pub, gettin’ a leg-over with one of the servers. It was humiliatin’. And you better believe I told him what he could do with his bloody– Well anyway, I ended up slappin’ him (and fuck that felt good!) and walked out. Thought about goin’ to a few other pubs, but I decided I really just wanted to go home, watch the countdown on the New Year’s Eve Fireworks programme, an’ get hammered in peace. I s’pose I jus’ wanted the wine to make me feel a bit more… special.

“And that’s about it. See? Pathetic. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She wagged her finger at him.

“Oi, not pathetic at all, Miss, erm… Blimey, I don’t even know your name.”

“Since we’re neighbors now, I s’pose I should probably tell ya, yeah? It’s Rose… Rose Tyler.”

“Nice to meet you, Rose. I’m John Smith,” he returned.

“John Smith? That’s it? Pull the other one! John Smith?”

His shoulders stiffened. “Well, if you don’t like it, you can jus’–”

“Nah, nah, nah, it’s fine. It’s nice and, erm… straightforward.” Rose couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over her face at his sudden offence. “It’s jus’ I think from now on you’ll always be the Doctor to me.”

“Fine...” he huffed, shaking his head at her as he paid for his order and gathered his bags. “Anyroad, gettin’ back to your tale: it sounds to me like you’re well shot of that stupid ape boyfriend of yours.”

“Ex-boyfriend. And yeah, Jimmy’s a right arsehole. To be honest, I don’t really feel all that upset about it. Thought I’d be gutted, yeah? But all I can think is that it’s no great loss. Reckon it was a long time comin’; shoulda dumped him ages ago.”

They walked out the doors of the Tesco and headed in the direction of Powell Estate.

She shrugged, adding, “I’m mostly just pissed off that he ruined my plans for New Year’s.”

“Yeah, rightly so!”

They walked in slightly awkward silence for a short time before Rose braved asking the enigmatic Doctor more about himself. “So… you’re a medical doctor, then?”

“Yup. Was a doctor in the military for years. Resigned my commission ‘bout a year back. Figured I’d seen enough…”

Rose glanced up at him, frowning concern at the tenson etched on his face again. “What are your plans now?” she asked, hoping to take him out of whatever unspoken horrors lingered in his past.

“I’ve always planned to start my own practice, me. Thought I could open one right here on the Estate.”

“Blimey, mate, it’s a war zone here too, sometimes.”

He grunted. “All the more reason you need a doctor.”

“Can’t argue wi’ that. We haven’t had a doctor ‘ere for years. The old one jus’ cleared off one day, no notice. He was just gone. His clinic is still there, though, between the chemist and the launderette. No one’s let it. Bet it’s a bargain!”

“You think?” He offered her a smug smile. “Already made arrangements, me.”

“But that’s brilliant!” Rose cheered, grabbing his arm and bouncing up and down. “When do you take possession?”

“Beginnin’ o’ next week,” he said as they strolled into the Powell Estate quad. “But it’ll be a bit before I can get everything set up properly. Plus, I have my flat to sort out. Boxes everywhere.”

“Don’t ya have some mates to help ya out?”

“Nope. There’s no one else. Jus’ me.” His words were blunt, his voice rough with emotion.

Rose watched his Adam’s apple bob heavily and grabbed onto his hand. “W’at happened? Doctor?”

He swallowed again and looked down at their joined hands.

Rose gripped a little tighter, but he wriggled his hand free of hers, leaving behind an aching emptiness deep in her heart. She ducked her head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry. I jus’… Oh, never mind.”

The strained silence returned for another minute or so as they walked, then he sighed. “Rose, war changes a person. I came back a very different man. I had plans, me. Was goin’ to start a practice as soon as I resigned my commission. Even had a place all set to go in my hometown. But I couldn’t make a go of it. Too much baggage. I haven’t been able to keep a steady job, all this time. And I lost people, good people, because they couldn’t take any more of my shit. My mates, my fiancée. One way or another, they’re all gone, and I can’t say I blame ‘em. That’s who I am, now. I drive everyone away from me.”

Rose’s heart swelled with compassion. “There’s me…”

They paused as they approached the entranceway to Rose’s building, and he shook his head, rolling his eyes at her and offering a guarded smile. “Yeah, you I can’t seem to get rid of.”

“I’m just too good.” She beamed at him, poking her tongue between her teeth again. This time, she noted, his eyes drifted to her mouth.

“No, you’re jus’ too drunk.”

“Uggghh,” she groaned, “I wish. I never got a bottle from the shop, after all.”

Grumbling deep in his throat, he dug in his shopping bag and extracted the bottle of sparkling wine. “There you go. Happy New Year. Take this and go home and celebrate your freedom from that twat. Now, go on, forget me, Rose Tyler.” He pressed the bottle into her hand and turned away, striding off toward the building opposite hers.

Rose watched him go, feeling rather lost. Numbly, she headed toward the staircase of her building, the bottle dangling from her fingers. She had her prize, but somehow it seemed a hollow victory.

She stopped and turned back. The Doctor was halfway across the quad, his figure illuminated by the dim sparkle of fairy lights strung from the balconies above. “Wait, Doctor,” she blurted. When he paused, she wasted no time rushing forward to meet him.

“Thought I told you to forget me,” he growled.

She was undeterred. “I’m not havin’ you sittin’ up in that empty flat by yourself.” Impulsively, she perched up on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Come to mine. Mum won’t be home ‘til tomorrow anyway, and I think we both deserve this bottle of bubbly, wouldn’t ya say? Better with two, yeah.”

“Erm…” He gazed down at her, his gruffness replaced with a sad, gentle smile that teased at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m not on the pull or anything,” she insisted… a little too forcefully. “Blimey!” she laughed, her cheeks burning. “I mean we jus’ met…”

He chuckled too. “And you were trying to steal my bubbly. You’re weren’t off to the best start, anyway, to be honest.”

“Oi!” She grabbed him by his sleeve and tugged him toward her building. “Wait! Hold on,” she paused a few seconds later, sniffing the air, “do you smell chips?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“Morrison’s must still be open! I want chips!”

“Me too.”

“And since you brought the bottle, the chips are on me! You’re in for a treat! Best chips on the planet, Morrison’s, an’ they’re right here on the estate. C’mon!”

“All right! Chips it is! And if we’re still hungry later, you can’t go wrong wi’ beans-on-toast.” They both laughed as he held up his bag of shopping. Then he clasped Rose’s hand in his, the gesture warming her to the core. “Lead the way!”

As they walked towards the chippy, Rose leaned her head against John Smith’s shoulder and gave his hand a little squeeze. Her evening, which had started out quite wretched, had completely turned around, and was now looking more promising than she could ever have imagined. Despite his wine-hogging tendencies, she rather thought she was going to enjoy being the Doctor’s neighbor.

“You know what, Doctor,” she grinned up at him, “I bet we’re going to have a really great year!”

#doctorroseprompts #nine x rose #human au #31 days of ficmas #winterficbingo #meet cute #fluff #hurt/comfort #strong language #new year #drinking #cheating #non-graphic mentions of war #ficandchips #tenroseforeverandever's fic

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might-be-a-zygon · 3 years

Note

Ohhhh Thasmin and "are you kidding me?! you're not 'fine'!" OR River/13 and "i can't believe i almost lost you

This one got away from me a little, I’ll admit. It’s pretty angsty and features a lot of (canon) character death, so fair warning on that one.

I’ll add an AO3 link in the reblogs!

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The Ghosts That Broke My Heart

Sleep had always been a funny thing for the Doctor. She certainly needed a lot less of it than her human friends, but it had always been a reliable break from whatever life chose to throw at her that week. She had dreams, like everyone did, but there was one thing which the Doctor didn’t really do.

She didn’t have nightmares.

Really, what would she have them about? The Doctor faced the creatures of nightmares every day. To some species, the Doctor was a creature of nightmares.

Still, after what had happened on Gallifrey? She’d found the creatures that could jolt her awake screaming.

Ghosts.

Whatever she’d done to overload the matrix had broken centuries of carefully constructed barriers, holding back the people she’d lost, and now her mind saw fit to make her relive each dark moment whenever she let her guard down to try and sleep.

It had started out right away- that first night in the Jadoon prison she’d laid down on the slab that passed for a bed, and closed her eyes to sleep.

“What does that mean?”

Jenny was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, all wide-eyes and excited smiles. The Doctor could recognise a lot of her own nervous energy in the young woman- ready to go off and explore the brave new world that awaited them. She also saw the gunman poised to take all that away in a moment.

It was like she was watching through thick glass. Poised on the sidelines, watching her past selves getting it all wrong over and over, but helpless to interfere. She slammed her palm against it, sending a too-real shooting pain through her arm, but making no audible sound.

“It means a new world.”

Sandshoes was grinning now, more genuine hope than she could ever really remember feeling shining in those eyes. He’d burned in the end- she remembered that much. He’d been angry. Vengeful.

The Timelord Victorious.

How different might things have been if he’d just turned around? The Doctor tried to speak, to shout for him to get her out of the way. Her voice didn’t make a sound.

She watched the happiness melt from Jenny’s face, even as Sandshoes maintained his stupid, complacent grin. The Doctor was pounding on the glass now, silently screaming that it wasn’t worth it, but of course she couldn’t change it. Jenny shoved Sandshoes out of the way, the bullet striking her square in the chest. Martha- brilliant Martha who she’d never once deserved- she knew right away there was no chance. She watched her past-self hold their dying daughter, and tell her of a future she’d never see, already knowing she was beyond saving. Lies had always fallen too easily from her tongue.

“You’re gonna be amazing, you hear me, Jenny?”

Had she even heard?

That first night, when she woke with a whine, curled up into a tight ball on her uncomfortable prison bed, the Doctor had attributed it to stress. She’d jumped haphazardly from Byron, to the cybermen, to Gallifrey, to prison with no time to clear her head. The Master always did funny things to her mind, anyway, it was normal there’d be some aftereffects.

Her hand ached from where she’d been slamming it into the ‘bed’.

She tried to shake the traitorous vision of Jenny- bright, young Jenny with so much potential sacrificing herself for the father she hardly knew. The father who would go on to do so much damage.

Against her better judgement, she’d turned over, and tried to get to sleep again. It was the last time she made that mistake.

The first thing the Doctor heard this time, was screaming.

She was on a ship, which certainly wasn’t her TARDIS. It took her a minute to recognise the place- but, maybe that made the whole thing even worse. Somebody was screaming for her help, and she couldn’t even remember who it was.

She stood there, behind whatever barrier her mind had constructed to stop her interfering, and watched the doddering old fool she’d been back then just stand there while a good woman was in trouble just feet away. She could have reopened the airlock doors- she’d known how- but she’d been so desperate to look for a way around it, that she’d left Katarina there screaming.

“Change course.” The Doctor in front of her finally ordered. “Take him back to Kembel. Take him back to Kembel! Let the Daleks deal with him.”

In that moment the Doctor looked into her own eyes and saw a spark of that ruthless fire which would one day burn galaxies. It was that same fire that made her risk tearing time apart for Clara Oswald- the fire that burned too brightly. If she was feeling generous, she might have called it admirable, that she was willing to fight so unbelievably hard for the people she loved.

Right now, she called it selfishness.

Steven stepped towards the old Doctor, his anger doing a poor job at masking his fear. “Yes, and us!”

“Don't worry, dear boy, We'll find a way out.” The Doctor cringed at her first face (or, the first face she remembered), while standing in her glass prison. Her methods of comfort hadn’t come on any in three thousand years. She was still a liar.

Both of the men who’d been with her bck then had been afraid. Bret had even tried arguing with her, but the Doctor had never been an easy person to argue with.

“I can't sacrifice everything for the sake of that one girl.” He argued, still at the controls. Luckily, she was spared the embarrassment of having to watch her former self argue by Steven stepping in.

“Listen! Without us you wouldn't have got off Kembel at all, and nothing would be worth bothering about!”

“All right, so we all go back together. But without me, I doubt that you would have got this far either.” Bret had given in quickly enough, and all the while the Doctor just stood and watched, and listened to Katarina’s frightened screaming in the airlock.

She watched as Katarina broke free and hit the release for the airlock. She watched as both her and Kirksen were sucked out into space. She watched, and knew that that girl- that girl who was so brave in the face of so much danger- had sacrificed herself so the three of them could get away.

Her hearts ached, as she thought of a dozen ways she could have saved her, if she’d tried harder.

“She wanted to save our lives and perhaps the lives of all the other beings of the Solar System.” The old Doctor in front of her began to make his silly speech, and the Doctor turned away, revolted at her own self-importance. “I hope she's found her Perfection. Oh, how I shall always remember her as one of the Daughters of the Gods. Yes, as one of the Daughters of the Gods.”

Rule one.

She hadn’t thought about Katarina in centuries. That poor, brave woman, who had made the ultimate sacrifice to keep them all alive, and the Doctor hadn’t even bothered to remember her.

The Doctor had awoken, still curled up on that cold stone slab, unable to shake the revulsion at her own actions. Was she still like that man? So pompous as to think that every being in the universe made their decisions based around her.

She hadn’t tried to sleep again, after that, shifting to lay on her back, staring at the celling, and trying to shake what somewhere, deep down, she knew.

There were very, very good reasons, she was in prison.

At first, it was always death. Faces she’d remembered, and ones she’d long since forgotten, all meeting their end because the Doctor had failed to save them.

“It snapped my neck, Sir. It wasn’t as painless as I expected, but it was pretty quick, so that was something.”

Angel Bob.

The Doctor had forgotten all about Angel Bob. He was young, and clever, and he was so scared, and she had just walked away and forgotten all about him, as though he’d never even existed.

She could see the look on the faces of the others- the muted horror on River’s, and the more pronounced look of it on her mother’s, as well as the well-managed grief of the soldiers who’d fought with him. They were all ghosts, now. Amy, River, the soldiers. All blown away like smoke on the wind.

“If you’re dead how can I be talking to you?” She tried not to think about the genuine interest her former self’s voice held in that moment- a man had just died, and Bowtie was curious about the mechanics.

“You’re not talking to me, Sir. The angel has no voice. It stripped my cerebral cortex from my body and reanimated a version of my consciousness to communicate with you. Sorry about the confusion.”

She tried her absolute best not to think too hard about how conscious the original Bob was at that moment. Had he known what had happened to him? Had he felt the angels turn him into their puppet?

She watched as Bowtie told them all to run- to run into the maze of weeping angels with no plan, and to just trust him, and she watched as he stopped behind to defend himself.

“Yes, I called you an idiot, and I’m sorry-“ He didn’t sound sorry at all, but the Doctor in her glass cage watching it play out certainly was, “But I couldn’t have saved your men.”

“I know that, Sir. And when you’ve flown off in your little blue box, I’ll explain that to their families.”

She watched, sick to her stomach, as Bowtie smirked.

“I’ll have to tell his mother.”

Seeing Rose, even after all this time, was still painful. This was only the second day they’d met, back before they’d travelled together. Before she’d managed to soften the war ravaged Doctor standing in front of her now.

The Ears had been one of her shortest lived, and angriest faces, and the ways he’d treated people were downright cruel at times. She saw the questioning look he gave Rose, clueless in the face of Mickey’s apparent demise, and why she’d be at all upset.

Why Rose hadn’t walked away then and there would forever be a mystery to the Doctor. She’d never once deserved that kind of love.

“Mickey” I’ll have to tell his mother he’s dead, and you just went and forgot him, again! You were right, you are alien.”

Alien didn’t have to mean cruel, though. So why did callousness seem to come so easily to her? Maybe it was just the sheer amount of death she’d witnessed, but it still hurt to see. She had to keep reminding herself that this death, at least, hadn’t been real- that Mickey was alive and living on earth, raising a son with his dad’s eyes and his mum’s brains who’d have the whole world talking in a few years.

At least it was a good reminder of why she was staying away from August Smith.

“Look, if I did forget some kid called Mickey-“

“Yeah, he’s not a kid-“

The Ears cut Rose off before she could keep speaking, but the Doctor watching from the side-lines found herself nodding in agreement. Rose was right. Of course Rose was right.

“It’s because I’m busy trying to save the life of every stupid ape blundering about on top of this planet! Alright?”

“Alright!”

“Yes, it is!” Ears sounded insufferably smug.

The Doctor shook her head in disgust, glancing at Rose and quietly muttering, “Why did you ever put up with me?”

“Look out!”

It was another voice she hadn’t heard in a long time, and one she’d frankly been dreading hearing. If Nyssa was here she had a good idea of what she was about to see. She saw the cybermen coming up behind her back, while her fifth-self fumbled with the controls. It was as good as useless.

A cyberman lumbered up behind her, and her past-self ignored it completely, leaving Nyssa to have to shoot it down with a discarded cyberweapon. She was once again saved by a more competent friend, and her own hypocrisy when it came to guns.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever even thanked Nyssa for saving her life.

“I must save Adric!”

Stuck in the corner, exhausted and emotionally drained, the Doctor was just glad that, while she was having to watch another of her failures, this version of herself was at the very least trying.

“Look!”

“Adric.”

The screen came to life, and the Doctor tried to shut her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch, but of course it didn’t work- in her dreams she wouldn’t be allowed to block out the parts she didn’t want to see. The only consolation was that she wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes.

She’d always been cowardly like that.

She watched as the ship began to come apart- watched as Tegan and Nyssa held each other, and Celery just stood there gawping like a fish who couldn’t believe his own incompetence.

She still remembered that feeling- like someone had clawed the hearts out of her chest and shown them to her. Back then, it’d been such a long time since she’d really lost someone that she wasn’t used to the pain of it anymore.

When had she become careless enough that death just bounced off of her?

It only took ten days of reliving her worst moments before the Doctor had begun actively fighting sleep. Prison, at least, was a safe enough place to do it. She’d pace her cell at night to keep herself from drifting off- reciting books she knew by heart, or just talking to herself to keep her eyes from closing for too long. During the day, she’d do the same- chatting to the other prisoners, pacing, never letting herself remain still for fear of finally giving into the exhaustion which seemed to have seeped into her bones.

Of course, even a Time Lord (if she could even call herself one anymore), couldn’t stay awake forever. After weeks of forcing her eyes to stay open, she’d eventually collapse, usually when she was in her cell, if she was lucky, and she’d endure another walkthrough her past- too exhausted to even wake up- before being woken by the prison systems to begin all over again.

After a while she’d slip into waking dreams, too exhausted to even think straight. She’d sit in her cell, nutrient block in hand, while her sleep deprived mind played out snippets of her life, a few seconds at a time, while she fought to wake up enough to dismiss the visions.

At first, when she next saw herself- sitting on a bench, eating chips, she thought maybe this was just her mind crying out for some real food. It was easy to forget the specifics of what had been discussed all those years before, after twenty years sitting in a cell.

“She scares me.” Came Bill’s voice from next to the older-Doctor, quiet in its honesty. Admitting you were scared was something so few people ever did- least of all when they were around the Doctor, and being brave was so important, but Bill had never been afraid to admit it to her. She’d been strong like that. “Like. She really scares me.”

As much as she still, after all this time, wanted the Master to be everything she knew he could be, it was hard to deny how right Bill had been to be afraid. After all- it was the Master who’d handed her over to the cybermen, in the end, just not the version she’d feared.

“Okay. Just, promise me one thing, yeah? Just promise you won’t get me killed.”

“I can’t promise you that!” Eyebrows had laughed at her, as though her concerns were something flippant. As though her fear was something worth laughing at. He’d been right, in the end, he hadn’t been able to keep Bill alive, but it was horrible looking back at it now.

The Doctor had managed to shock herself back into reality, but she hadn’t been able to shake the self-contempt that settled in her hearts.

Most of the time, those waking nightmares came while she was stuck sitting around, waiting for the time to come that she’d be allowed out into her tiny cube of the exercise yard, just for something to break up the routine of sitting alone, and thinking about death.

“I keep remembering all the people I’ve killed. Every day I think of more. Being bad- Being bad drowned that out. I didn’t know I even knew their names. You didn’t tell me about this bit.”

“I’m sorry, but this is good.”

“Okay.”

The Doctor watched herself hold her self-ascribed goodness over her oldest friend, and couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t what had driven the Master to the depths of madness he’d displayed on Gallifrey. She might have lorded it as a good thing back then, but she was quickly learning the types of things that isolation, imprisonment, and guilt could do to the mind. If she got out of prison with her sanity, she’d count it a blessing.

She’d dreamt about Missy a lot, after a while. The longer she stayed locked up, the more her guild-addled mind saw fit to remind her of her stint as jailor.

On those nights she was too exhausted to keep her eyes open, the Doctor saw herself through the glass again. It was her twelfth face- well, the twelfth she remembered- the one with the angry eyebrows and the trusting nature. She saw Missy standing there, looking more dishevelled than she had before the vault, standing so close to the forcefield that it was rippling. She looked strangely earnest despite the pantomime of madness she put o- as though she was proud of herself for actually helping.

She watched as Eyebrows shoved Bill back away from Missy, not seeming to care much about how what had just transpired had clearly affected her. She’d never been good enough for Bill- the kind, inquisitive girl who’d gone out of her way to buy the Doctor Christmas presents and who’d called her grandad, and who she’d promised she wouldn’t get killed. Bill who had been so strong, who had fought off the monks and the cybermen by sheer force of will. Bill who’d deserved so much more than what the Doctor had given to her.

She watched Eyebrows walk up to that rippling forcefield, and look his oldest friend in the eyes like she was still the monster she pretended to be.

“Even if that was the truth the fact that you’re suggesting it shows that there’s been no change. No hope. No point.”

Eyebrows sounded angry, and the Doctor winced slightly at that. How was the Master ever supposed to change with the Doctor constantly telling her that her progress meant nothing? Was that why she’d given up in the end? It had to be easier to go back to what you’d known before rather than being constantly strung along and put down by someone who had promised to help you become better.

Missy’s face contorted for a moment. The Doctor left her here for months, all alone in this dusty room with almost nothing, and then he’d turned up just to talk to her like this? Her Twelfth face was one of the few she’d always thought of as good- or, if not good, at least kind. Sandshoes had been angry from the war and from everything he’d lost, but Eyebrows had tried so hard to be kind. Was this really what her version of kind did to people?

After her own stint in prison, leaving Missy trapped like this for so long was beginning to seem more and more cruel. She’d wanted to help people, she really had, but it wasn’t as though her friend had come to her and asked. She’d saved her, and then abused that power, keeping her prisoner for decades to try and make her into something she’d never tried to be. It was hard, knowing what had later become of the Master, not to wonder what all that time in the vault had done to their already fragile mental state. How much had she contributed to his snapping and destroying their home?

Looking at it like that how was the Doctor any better than the Jadoon? And how was Missy running off with the Master much different from her running with Jac They’d both been escaping jailors who kept them confined alone for long enough to drive them half-mad.

“We don’t sacrifice people.” The scene playing out in front of her was hardly easy, but the Doctor laughed anyway, because the irony of that wasn’t lost on her. She’d let so many people die for her as Rainbows that Eyebrows’ words felt hollow. “It’s wrong because it’s easy.”

“Back in the day I’d burn an entire city to the ground just to see the pretty shapes the smoke made. I’m sorry your plus one doesn’t get a happy ending, but like it or not I just saved this world because I want to change.”

There was a forced lightness to Missy’s voice, almost undetectable unless you really knew her well- and the Doctor knew her better than anybody. It’d been a cry for help, of sorts- she’d wanted her friend back, and Eyebrows had ignored her. She’d saved the world- the Doctor would have likely spent months searching for infected water supplies and food chains following up his own stupid theories, and Missy had told him the answer freely, and without reward. She’d saved the world and he’d told her there was no hope for her- no wonder she’d run.

“Your version of good is not absolute.” She continued, her fingers pushing slightly against the forcefield now. The Doctor watched it ripple from behind he own glass patrician, and she knew the look in Missy’s eyes far too well. If that forcefield had been replaced with glowing blue bars it could have been her in her own cell. At least during her imprisonment she hadn’t had to live with the knowledge that her oldest friend was her jailor. “It’s vain, arrogant, and sentimental.”

Vain, arrogant and sentimental.

She always had said the Master knew her soul a little too well.

Once the spectre of death faded, somewhat, it was her own shortcomings her subconscious decided to force onto her. Those moments when she’d forced others into complying with what she’d wanted- as though that was always her decision to make.

She was the Doctor, after all. Who would ever dare to question her whims as anything less than genius?

“You know you can fix that chameleon circuit if you just tried hot-wiring the fragment links and superseding the binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary binary-“

Not this. Not Donna. How was this fair? At least with Jenny she hadn’t seen the gunman. She could see it in her past-self’s face that he knew this was killing her, and he was just standing there like an idiot, watching it happen. He could have stepped in sooner.

“I’m fine.” Donna was showing off that big grin, back to talking a mile-a-minute. The Doctor had always wondered if on some level she knew what this would do. She had all of that knowledge inside her head, it must have been somewhere in her all along that she’d become an impossible thing.

She didn’t pound on the glass or scream this time, watching her own past unfold with her hand pressed up against it. She mouthed I’m sorry, but no sound came out.

“I bet he’s great, Charlie Chaplin. Shall we do that? Shall we go see Charlie Chaplin? Shall we? Charlie Chaplin. Charlie Chester. Charlie Brown- no he’s fiction-“ She watched as Donna pranced around, playing with the console and the phone. This wasn’t quite Donna- not really. This Donna was far too Doctor- maybe that was why she found it so unsettling, seeing her charming, funny, irreverent friend talking like someone she hated.

“Friction, fiction, fixing, mixing, Rickston, Brixton-“ Donna cut off with a gasp, and the Doctor wanted to slap Sandshoes for leaving her in this state. She had to be scared, and he wasn’t even bothering to explain it to her. Of course, with that much of the Doctor’s mind burning through her own, Donna had probably understood it all already, but there was still something to be said for compassion in a situation as horrific as this one.

“I was gonna be with you forever.” The sadness in Donna’s eyes spoke volumes. She’d trusted the Doctor so much, had so much planned for them, and it was all the Doctor’s fault.

If her hearts hadn’t already shattered they did now. Nobody ever stayed with her forever- not really. Even if she wanted them to, she’d always destroy them before they got a chance.

She was on the floor, kneeling on the dirty floor of a TARDIS she’d long since tried to forget. When had that happened?

“I know.”

She screwed her eyes shut, grateful that this time, at least, she managed to block out the visuals- maybe because this time, the sound of Donna begging for something the Doctor was too selfish to give her was enough. She wouldn’t watch Sandshoes lie to her like that- like he’d lied to Jenny, and to Bob, and to Steven. Pretty words to ease the pain she was about to put her through.

“I can’t go back. Doctor. Please. Please don’t make me go back.”

Listening to her beg wasn’t any easier than watching it. Or living it- especially now she knew just how painful it was to have your memories taken from you. Gallifrey may have erased her path, but she’d run roughshod over her friend’s mind just as carelessly.

“Donna Noble. I am so sorry. But we had the best of times.” Was that supposed to make either of them feel better? She’d been so self-righteous back then. The Doctor opened her eyes again, and regretted it almost immediately, curling in on herself behind her little partition. “Goodbye.”

“No. No! No please! No. No! No!”

Staying awake proved easier once she’d left prison.

During her incarceration, it had only been the thought of getting home to her fam which had really kept her going, so having Yaz back at her side was a real boost to her mood, which kept those waking nightmares at bay.

The running helped too- adrenaline in her system keeping the more dangerous effects of her sleep-deprivation at bay. Still, it didn’t mean that nights didn’t come where she came down from that high of finally being able to help again, and her tiredness came crashing down on her like a crushing weight.

This time, it came after a particularly harsh day.

She was getting sloppy in her exhausted state, and that sloppiness had put Yaz in far greater danger than she’d ever wanted to risk again. She’d told herself, that after the cybermen, and the daleks, she’d be more careful, but then all of a sudden there they were, stuck in a trap she should have been able to spot, if she was thinking clearly.

They’d been held hostage for longer than she was willing to admit- some scrapper who was very keen on getting hold of the TARDIS- not that he really knew what it was or what significance it held. No, for this man the greatest ship in the universe was worth some spare parts, and whatever the scrap value of its base components was.

They’d gotten out, in the end, but it wasn’t as though she could even take credit for that- it was quick thinking on Yaz’s part which had distracted their attacker for long enough for them to get to the TARDIS. As impressive as it was, it was still terrifying to see Yaz be so like her in the way she acted. The last person who’d wanted to be the Doctor had gotten killed trying to do so.

She’d hardly said a word once they returned to the ship, trying her best to ignore the furtive looks of concern she kept getting. She slipped off to the library alone when Yaz went to make a cup of tea, getting there on her fourth attempt (since the TARDIS seemed insistent on placing her room behind every door she opened), and counting on the near-infinite nature of the TARDIS rooms to hide her for a while. She needed a little space while she cleared her head and tried to get rid of some of the overwhelming guilt that was eating her up inside.

She could have gotten Yaz killed today with her carelessness. If Yaz wasn’t as good as she was, she would have gotten them both killed.

No matter what horrors from her past her brain decided to drudge up, a world without Yaz was still a terrifying thought.

“I’m not asking you for a promise. I’m giving you an order.��

She really didn’t want to see this.

The Doctor had not gotten her memories back just so she could watch Clara Oswald face the raven all over again. Even in prison her mind hadn’t been cruel enough to remind her of that particular death. She remembered the others- Oswin, and the governess she’d met in London, and a hundred other Clara’s who’d died to save her- but this one had never come up.

Evidently, her subconscious thought she needed a reminder of what happened when she took her eyes off things for a moment too long.

“You will not insult my memory. There will be no revenge. I will die, and no one else here, or anywhere, will suffer.”

Well there was a promise the Doctor hadn’t managed to keep. She’d tried to tear time itself apart to save Clara, and worst of all, she’d never even known if it succeeded. Testimony didn’t remember whether Clara had lived or died- it’d been taken the moment before the raven hit- before the Doctor had tried to pull her from her timeline. She had no memory of anything that’d happened with Clara after this, and while she knew they’d been together on Gallifrey, she didn’t know how permanent that salvation might be, or what about it had taken her memories to begin with.

“What about me?” Eyebrows asked, and the Doctor who was watching him managed a harsh, bitter laugh. Clara was dying, and as usual her former self was there to be selfish and make her comfort him.

“If there was something I could do about that I would. I guess we’ll both just need to be brave.”

“Clara-“ He was trying to argue again, but all at once she was pulling him into a hug, and looking at the desperation of it from the outside, the Doctor just knew that Clara was trying to pull some comfort from it too, since Eyebrows hadn’t been offering her any.

She’d been human, and she’d been dying, and she’d been scared, but she’d forced herself to be brave so her friend didn’t have to be.

Looking back on it, Clara had always been so much stronger than the Doctor had ever been.

“Don’t run.” It had to be the first time she’d ever said that to one of her friends in a bad spot. “Stay with me.” Eyebrows was practically begging her now. Worse than that, the Doctor knew that if she had to go back and do it again, she wouldn’t be any stronger.

“Nah.” She could see how heard Clara was working to keep her tone casual, not wanting to hurt the Doctor any more than this whole thing already would. It was heart breaking, really, knowing that even in her final moments she’d had to suppress her own feelings to try and save her pain. “You stay here. In the end everybody does this alone.”

She shouldn’t have had to do it alone.

“Clara-“ Eyebrows tried again, and if the Doctor wasn’t stuck in her self-imposed cell, she might have hit him. This was his last chance- why couldn’t he say something to her? Why couldn’t he make sure that she died knowing how deeply she was loved.

“This is as brave as I know how to be. I know it’s gonna hurt you but- please. Be a little proud of me?”

There was a hopeful note to Clara’s tone despite everything, and in the end that was what really broke the Doctor. Her hand was pressed against the glass, desperate to say something, but unable to- the sands of time separated them more surely than the glass ever could.

“Always.” She promised, because if Eyebrows wouldn’t say it, then this new Doctor would. “I’m always gonna be proud of you.”

Clara turned away from her, and walked towards her grave.

“No no no no…”

The Doctor’s eyes blinked open, giving her a hazy view of the warm purple walls of the TARDIS library. She was curled up in one of the armchairs near the fire, her eyes still heavy with sleep. How long had it been since she’d last slept? Weeks, at least. Maybe months. And since she’d last slept properly? Well that had been decades.

Her hands ached from where she’d been clutching onto the arms of the chair.

Her eyes were already falling closed again, too exhausted to even force herself to stay awake.

“If you die here it’ll mean I never even met you.”

She’d never really appreciated how true that statement was. Without the Doctor blundering through her mother’s life, River Song would never have existed. Melody Williams (would she even have been called Melody, with the paradox of her name?) would have grown up safe and happy, the human daughter of the journalist and the nurse. She’d have had a normal life. She’d have been raised by loving parents, and have had a happy childhood, and maybe even brothers and sisters- maybe she’d have still written books, or taught archelogy, and had a much happier marriage than theirs had been.

Melody Pond would have been so much better off if she had never met the Doctor.

“Time can be rewritten.” For once, she seemed to be in agreement with Sandshoes. He was selfish, but at least he’d have been doing her a favour.

“Not those times. Not one line. Don't you dare. It's okay. It's okay. It's not over for you. You'll see me again. You've got all of that to come. You and me, time and space. You watch us run.”

Live great lives. That’s what she’d told her fam. If anyone had lived up to that, and lived a great life despite the Doctor’s meddling, it had been River Song. They’d had some amazing times, saved so many people, so many planets. There were stars out there still burning because River Song had been there to save them.

If the Doctor had found a better way around getting the people out of there, there might have been so many more.

The computer counting down the seconds left of her life in the background wasn’t helping the way that the Doctor’s hearts were pounding. She was crying, now- she wasn’t sure when that had begun.

From her cell, she watched Sandshoes babble on about his guilt- his suspicions, being expertly put down by River. She was so used to shutting him up when he was talking about things he didn’t know anything about- she could really use that, right now.

She should have saved her.

“Hush now. Spoilers…”

River smiled, and the Doctor lunged at the glass in front of her, shouting words that even she could barely comprehend. She was still clawing desperately at the glass when the room flashed bright white.

The Time Lord didn’t even fully wake that time, despite having thrown herself onto the floor at some point during her anguish. She was barely drawn out of her nightmares for a moment, a noise that sounded awfully like a whimper escaping her. Her eyes were shut too-tightly, and she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, fingernails digging into her arms as though that would protect her from the horrors of her own mind.

“Who decides they’re so unimportant? You?”

The Doctor knew where she was this time without even looking up. Somehow, this scared her even more. She wasn’t watching a loved one die, she was watching her own stupid power-play blow up in her face. This hadn’t been a mercy mission, it’d been her trying to prove to the whole Universe that the Doctor had power over all.

“For a long time now I thought I was just a survivor, but I’m not. I’m the winner- that’s who I am. The Time Lord victorious.”

“And there’s no one to stop you?”

“No.”

“This is wrong, Doctor. I don’t care who you are. The Time Lord victorious is wrong.”

Captain Adelaide. She’d been so brilliant- she’d understood more about this than her idiot younger self ever could. The Doctor just about managed to give her a smile from behind her glass wall before she resumed staring at Sandshoes in disgust.

“That’s for me to decide. Now, you better get home.”

It was chilling. Watching her old face shift so quickly. Darkness turned cocky in an instant as he pointed his sonic at the door. Unlike with the other dreams, The Doctor wasn’t shouting. She didn’t try to say a word, just watched on with self-loathing and dread weighing down her hearts. A silent spectator of her darkest moment since the Time War.

Sandshoes smirked at that brave, doomed woman, challenging her to argue her fate further. He’d set himself up as a self-styled God. “Oh it’s all locked up- you’ve been away. Still, that’s easy.”

“Is there nothing you can’t do?”

“Not anymore.”

She watched as the great Time Lord Victorious turned his back on Adelaide. She watched as the captain drew her gun. She braced herself for that flash of blue light and the thud of a body hitting the floor.

“Don’t do it, Adelaide.” She was talking to nobody, but she still couldn’t help herself trying to butt in- trying to fix the damage she hadn’t noticed until it was too late. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t-“

“Doctor?”

A hand on her shoulder drew her out of there before she had to watch that, jolting her awake. She came to, immediately caught off guard by the shadow of someone standing over her, and the scent of a familiar perfume hitting her. It took her a moment or so to place it, but when she did her hearts picked up a little. Yaz. Brilliant, wonderful, human Yaz who’d probably just heard her rambling all sorts of scary nonsense in her sleep.

“Doctor are you alright?”

The Doctor swallowed a little too hard and sat up quickly enough to make her head spin, forcing a familiar, false grin to spread across her face. Her body was aching from sleeping on the wooden floor, and she was pretty sure she was going to be bruised from where she’d fallen off the chair.

“Yaz! Yasmin Khan- Sorry, must have nodded off-“ Her voice sounded a little false even to her own ears, and she did her best to pass it off with a yawn.

“Sorry, just, you were talkin’ in your sleep an’ I thought-“ Yaz looked a little sheepish about waking her, and her eyes were full of concern.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry- Time Lord. Vivid dreams- I was…” She forced another yawn, trying to give herself time to think of a lie. “Did I ever tell you about the time I met a real life siren on a pirate ship? That was a good one, that. Dream about that one a lot. M’fine, though. Really.”

Yaz shot her a look that showed she didn’t believe the Doctor for a moment. There was a beats pause, before she exploded

“Are you kiddin’ me?! You’re not ‘fine’!” She drew air quotes around that last word, straightening up, to stand over the Doctor, showing she was serious.

“I’m-“

“I swear if you say ‘fine’ I’m gonna-”

The Doctor shut her mouth before Yaz could finish the threat.

There was a tense moment, almost like a standoff between the two of them, before Yasmin’s hard eyes softened, and she bent down to help the Doctor to her feet.

“I’m worried about y’.”

Suppressing her initial urge to insist that she was fine, the Doctor bit her lip.

“You shouldn’t be.” She eventually managed.

“When was the last time ‘y slept?” Yaz asked.

“About a minute ago.” The Doctor tried to make a joke. Yaz laughed weakly.

“Before that.” She clarified, glancing at the floor where she’d found the doctor collapsed.

“…I don’t remember.” The Doctor admitted.

Yaz sucked in a surprised breath through clenched teeth.

“Doctor-“

“I’m not human. I don’t need as much sleep as you lot.”

Raising an eyebrow, Yaz gave her another of those easy, disbelieving looks. “And that’s why I found you passed out on the floor cryin’?”

The Doctor blinked, bringing her hand up to her face. Sure enough, she’d been crying- she hadn’t even realised. Waking up with tears in her eyes was just normal by now.

“What’s so bad that it’s keepin’ you up?” Yaz leant forwards, taking one of the Doctor’s hands in both of her own. “Please don’t lie to me.”

There was an earnestness in her eyes that reminded the Doctor of all the people she’d loved most. Rose, Amy, River, Clara. Even Koschei. She’d always liked the people who could be honest with her the best- she needed honest people to stop her tearing herself apart and taking everyone else with her.

“I’ve lost a lot of people, Yaz.” She said, resigned note in her voice. “You saw Gallifrey. My home world is gone, my wife is gone, my children are gone, my granddaughter is gone. I’ve lost most of my friends, and- since Gallifrey, I can’t block them out anymore. I see them die every night.”

All at once, Yaz leaned forwards, just like Clara had in her dream, wrapping her arms tightly around the Doctor, holding her grounded to the spot. Even that brief contact allowed some of the tension in the Doctor’s body to loosen, her shoulder’s slumping as she leant into the contact.

“’m sorry.”

“So am I.”

Yaz pulled herself back from the hug, keeping her hands firmly on the Doctor’s arms, so she could ground her while looking her in the eyes.

“Have you got a bedroom on board?” She asked.

“Somewhere. How come?”

Yaz smiled, “Because you’ve gotta sleep sometime, and I think it’s probably comfier than the floor.” She let one of her hands fall, the other moving up to brush the hair out of the Doctor’s eyes. “Come on.”

She caught Yaz’s wrist in her hand, suddenly looking nervous. She was really worried where her subconscious would go from what had to be one of the worst things she’d ever done. “I don’t wanna. Not yet.”

“Y’ need to.” Yaz insisted, still trying her best to smile. The Doctor recognised that look from how often she herself wore it- that false-cheer that just barely covered the worry. “I promise I’ll sit with y’ the whole time- I can wake you up if you start makin’ noise.”

The Doctor thought about that for a minute. It’d certainly been easier to deal with the dream about Adelaide since she’d been pulled out of it before she actually had to hear the shot go off. If Yaz could pull her out of the bad moments before she had to see anything too bad- Maybe it would let the Doctor get a bit of sleep. It wasn’t the most elegant solution, and it didn’t seem as though it would last too long, but- it was an infinitely better one than her current plan of depriving herself of sleep until she could hardly stand.

“You really wouldn’t mind?” She eventually asked, her fingers still resting around Yaz’s wrist, though she wasn’t trying to use them to push her away any more.

“I love you. Let me take care of you, for once.”

There was another slight pause, before the Doctor let go of her hand, nodding. “Okay.”

Yaz let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”

“For what?” The Doctor turned to her, genuine confusion etched across her features.

Yaz took another step closer, cupping the Doctor’s face in one hand, and giving her the most genuine smile either of them had shared since they’d reunited. “For letting me in.”

#thirteenth doctor #doctor who #thasmin #yasmin khan #yaz khan #madeathing

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melancholydreadfuldream · 4 years

Text

Dreamer File 01

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: Tenth Doctor x reader

Warning: angst

More warning: English is not my native language and I suck at it but I wanted to write for DW so here it is. My name is (YN) (LN) and I'm a traveler in time and space. I met the Doctor on his tenth incarnation. He picked me up alongside Rose. I have been with him for so long. He is a wonderful man so of course I ended up catching feeling for him. But he only have eyes for Rose.

Rose has the advantage because she has been with him the longer and I have to admit that she is a wonderful person but she is possessive of the Doctor. I'm the third wheel in this. They laughed and joked around and I didn't feel included. At least, the Doctor didn't kick me out because I do love to travel with them.

When Rose is gone trapped in the other world, his love for Rose is so great he even burn out a sun just to say goodbye. How can I ever compete with her? No chance.

The Doctor wanted to drop me home despite my protest. He said if I stay with him, I will ended up like Rose.

Before he could though, Donna appeared on board of the Tardis and we ended up having to sort her out.

He invited Donna to come with us but she refused. I felt hurt that the Doctor invited her when he said he want to drop me off. Did he got tired of me? That is so unfair.

Thankfully the Doctor no longer insisted that I go home. We eventually met Martha and she became a fellow traveler.

I could tell that Martha is smitten with the Doctor. I warned her that the Doctor is still hung up on Rose.

The Doctor didn't treat me and Martha very well. We endured it but one day I just snapped.

"I know you are still hurting over Rose but Martha and I deserve better than your treatment so far. Doctor, we love traveling with you and I know we can't replace Rose. She has a special position in your hearts. But I would appreciate it if you stop comparing us with her."

The Doctor is silent and I thought he will be mad at me. But he told me he didn't mean to make us feel like that and promise to do better.

And then the Family of Blood happened. Martha and I ended up having to care for a human Doctor. We worked as servants at the military school where John Smith will be a teacher.

He fell in love with Nurse Redfern. I can't help feeling bitter about it. Why am I never the one? I could drive myself crazy thinking about it so I don't. I pushed my feeling down. I am lucky that Martha is with me. I don't think I could bear it alone.

When John Smith turned back as the Doctor, I am glad to leave that time period behind.

I think my relationship with the Doctor improve a little during the time we got marooned on the year 1960. We have a moment together under a starry sky on top of a building after I finished my work. I also bonded some more with Martha since we both have to work hard to support the Doctor.

Then things with Jack and the Master happened. It was the worst time of my life. My father was taken on board the Valiant by the Master as hostage.

For some reason, the Doctor send Martha off to do whatever he told her to do. He didn't ask me to go with her and so I stayed and wonder if he think so little of me that I can't do whatever it was he tasked Martha to do. Maybe I really am useless.

During my time aboard the Valiant, between the mental and physical abuse from the Master, my father got a heart attack and died. I cried so hard that day. I didn't even get to bury his body. The Master ordered the soldiers to throw his body off the ship. I wanted to kill him but Martha's family stopped me before I did a stupid thing.

I cried and begged the Doctor to fix it. I knew that was selfish of me to ask that of the helpless Doctor but I was out of my mind with grief.

Then Martha came back and the paradox machine got destroyed. The Doctor returned to his former self and able to neutralize the Master.

Everything got a reset. The world had forgotten about what happened. The year that never was. Except for the lot on board of the Valiant. I didn't get my father back. I hated the Master with my whole life. I picked up the gun, wanting to kill him but the Doctor stopped me.

The Master is dead, shot by his dutiful wife. I only felt bad for the Doctor for losing the only other Time Lord but I'm also relieved because if he is alive and the Doctor take him on board of the Tardis, I don't think I could cope.

Martha decided to leave us. I couldn't leave the Doctor. The man with the sad eyes, how could I? Also it was easy because I no longer have any family now my father is gone.

I don't even want to sort my life anymore. I want to stay with the Doctor for as long as I could. Martha warned how unhealthy my choice was.

"Don't waste your life for someone who didn't appreciates you..." She said. "But maybe...you still have hope with him. I saw how he look at you. But be careful, don't let yourself be second best for someone, not even him."

But the thing is I will always be second best compare to Rose. And yet I can't bring myself to leave him. Not brave enough, not strong enough.

After she left, it was only the Doctor and I. We didn't talk much except during adventures. There were times when I caught him looking at me but he never said a word.

When Donna joined us, I felt so grateful because she made the mood more lively.

Donna knew of my feeling for the Doctor and often pushed me to be with the Doctor even after I told her that he still in love with Rose.

Of course, I had to experience almost dying of poison before I decided to confess to him.

"I love you, Doctor. I know you didn't feel the same and that's all right." I lied. "But I just want you to know how much you are loved and that this is not your fault. I choose this. I choose you."

But then, he managed to cure me and thing become awkward between us. Donna who heard my confession, pushed me to have a talk with him.

"No way. Just pretend that it didn't happen. He doesn't feel the same. I don't want to be a nuisance. What if he drop me home and never come back because of this?" I ranted at Donna.

I don't know what Donna said to him but the Doctor ended up cornering me for a talk. Thankfully, he didn't kick me out as I feared. He made sure I knew that he care for me. He didn't exactly rejected me and he is being confusing when he kissed me in the forehead.

Donna pushed the both of us to have a date night together and to my surprise, he didn't turn away the idea. Of course, having a sort of date night with tour on Midnight, didn't end well when the Doctor almost killed by the passengers and I'm helpless to stop it.

Then Rose come back. I missed her but I resented her for coming back. The Doctor forgot about me and it's all about her.

Donna and Jack comforted me. Jack knew of my feeling for the Doctor during the year that never was. He sympathized with my situation because he also knew that the Doctor is all about Rose.

Martha is right, I should have left. But I can't.

The Daleks forced the Tardis into their ship and then Donna got trapped on the Tardis, presumed to be dead.

Rose took the Doctor's hand to comfort her and once again I was left behind. My heart hurts.

Next thing I knew there are two Doctor. A metacrisis,the Doctor said.

After we saved the world, Martha approached me and she give me a hug. I hugged her back.

"Remember what I said." She said before she said goodbye to the Doctor and left the Tardis.

I sat in the corner alone watching the others interact with each other. There were only Donna, Rose, Jackie and the metacrisis doctor left. The Doctor was outside saying goodbye to Martha, Jack and Mickey.

"Are you okay?"

I jumped in surprise when I saw the metacrisis doctor stand before me.

"I'm okay." I forced a smile.

"Why are you sitting alone?"

"I hates goodbye."

"Me too."

I wonder if I should ask him about his feeling for me. He still technically is the Doctor. But I'm a coward, too afraid of the answer.

The Doctor entered the Tardis and proclaimed their next destination, Bad Wolf Bay.

I was confused why he did that. Rose is staying, isn't she?

I observed the conversation between the Doctor, Rose and the metacrisis from the Tardis doorway.

I heard Rose proclaimed loudly about what she said last and what the Doctor intended to say during their last meeting.

And then I saw Rose kissing the metacrisis.

The Doctor and Donna got inside the Tardis and we left them behind.

"Doctor..." I called out. I stopped, unsure if I should mention Rose again. Will it really be okay to leave Rose again? Didn't he love her so much?

Donna pulled me aside and told me about how Rose and metacrisis will get to stay and grow old together.

I felt like a dose of cold water being poured over my head. Of course, the Doctor is immortal and I am not. How could we ever work out? How could he stand to have me? I will die someday and he will move on from me. He gave Rose the greatest gift he could ever give. But where that left me?

I didn't get the chance to break down because of what happened next to Donna.

The Doctor erased her memory of us and dropped her home.

We are alone again, only the two of us again.

"I'm not going anywhere." I blurted suddenly which surprise the Doctor and the smile he gave me next made me pushes down all my insecurities aside temporarily.

I hugged him tight and he hugged me back.

I was scared and worried about the future but I keep being in denial about it and continue to run away with the Doctor.

The Doctor has become somewhat affectionate with me. He didn't say he love me but he would look at me with that warm grin that I loved. Almost look like the grin he shared when he was with Rose. Almost. It did make me hoping that he finally see me.

I think the Doctor is sad but he wouldn't tell me why. He seemed to be running from something. It wasn't until later that I learned about how he is going to die and regenerate into a new man.

The Master is alive and took over the world in creepy way. Every last human on Earth turned into his clone.

Of course, the Doctor saved the day. But at a cost, to save Donna's grandfather, he sacrificed himself and now he is dying.

He went to his farewell tour while I remained at the Tardis.

When he returned on board, I knew he is about to drop me off for my own safety.

"I'm not going anywhere. Don't you dare say goodbye to me or I will hate you forever!" I yelled stubbornly.

He sighed at my stubbornness. "You always stay with me even after I hurt you. Why?"

"You know why."

He nodded with a sad smile. "It's time..." He whispered as he started to glow.

I watched in tears. "Doctor..."

"I don't want to go..." He whispered.

And then he changed into a new man right before my eyes.

I didn't get a look at him because the Tardis is crashing.

I woke up on the floor near the swimming pool. There was blood on my face. I think I got bumped my head pretty hard.

There was a strange man in front of me, fussing over me.

"Let me take a look at you. Oooh, you look like you might have concussion. That’s no good."

"Doc...tor?"

He smiled at me. "Hello again."

#tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x oc #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #shiefenwrites

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megabadbunny · 4 years

Text

No Place Like Hohm (8/8)

“Ready?” the Doctor asked Rose.

She beamed at him. “Ready.”

***

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe.)

***

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Chapter 8

This time, Rose smiled as she stepped outside into the city. The planet Hohm looked much the same as it had a few days prior—clear blue skies, three moons shining overhead, colorful pennants waving lazily in the breeze, white buildings practically glowing in the sun—but there seemed to be a little extra pep in everyone’s step, as the people and horse-people bustled about their business. Maybe Rose was just imagining it, but she didn’t think so.

“So,” she said, a grin spreading across her face as she turned to Dyana and Vareem. The two of them grinned at her in return, standing tall and proud in their elegant ceremonial Council robes; it was a look they were both well-suited-for, Rose thought. “Ready for your next adventure?” she asked.

“Yes,” replied Dyana firmly, as Vareem said, “Not even a little bit,” and they both burst out laughing.

“At least we look the part,” Vareem chuckled, plucking at her robes. “That counts for something, right?”

Rose laughed. “Absolutely. That, and confidence, and cleverness, and a good heart. Luckily, you two have got all four in spades.”

“Oh, stop,” said Vareem. “You’re making me blush!”

“And if all else fails, you can always take the Doctor’s advice and just walk about like you own the place,” Rose told them. “Cos, I guess you sort of do, now?”

“And it’s about time we left you to it,” piped up the Doctor’s voice; Rose turned to see him waltzing lazily in her direction, Mickey following close after. “Wouldn’t you say?”

Dyana frowned. “You’re not leaving already?”

“Of course we are,” the Doctor said pleasantly. “We’ve done about all the damage we can do round here, best leave it in the hands of the experts now. Besides, you’ll be far too busy to notice us being gone, what with your planet to rule and your people to help and your rotten system of oppression to dismantle.”

“And don’t forget about the Championship, while you’re at it,” added Mickey. “Might want to consider taking a sledgehammer to that thing.”

“Actually,” Vareem replied hesitantly, “we’re thinking we might keep it.”

Mickey’s eyes widened in alarm and Rose and the Doctor both stared at her, nonplussed. “Come again?” asked the Doctor, eyebrow arching sharply.

“Look, much as I hate to admit it, the Council was right about one thing,” said Dyana. “There’s a lot of money in the Championship. The Council was a bunch of greedy prigs about it all, but that money could really help our people—boost our economy, lift the town out of poverty, get everyone back on their feet.”

“And make technology available to everyone who wants it,” Vareem interjected.

“Besides, the idea of the Championship isn’t bad—it’s just the way the Council ran it,” Dyana continued.

Mickey and the Doctor didn’t look convinced, but Rose was patient. She nodded at Dyana and Vareem, urging them to continue.

“See, this time around, no one’s gonna be forced into anything. It’s all voluntary. You pay to get in, or you sponsor someone else getting in, or you pay to watch it all live,” Dyana explained. “And there’s no deadly weapons, no bride-prizes, no killing. Just people competing against other people. Just regular sports, really.”

Vareem nodded. “The groundwork’s already all laid out. A couple of easy adjustments and you’ve got something that’s, y’know, actually fun for everyone involved. We’ll just recenter the event on showcasing everyone’s athletic skills, just for the prestige of it.”

Mickey’s face lit up at that. “So it really is your planet’s version of the Olympics!” he laughed. “That’s pretty awesome!”

“It is indeed,” added the Doctor, beaming. “Well done, you two! Really well done.”

Dyana and Vareem both laughed, Vareem shaking her head, smiling shyly. But Dyana quieted down before too long, her expression growing thoughtful. “Seriously, though,” she said, her voice deep with sincerity. “Thank you all, for everything you did for us.”

“Absolutely,” Vareem chimed in. “Thank you so much!”

“Rose, you especially,” Dyana added, taking Rose’s hands in hers. “Just—thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?” Rose laughed. “I hardly did anything!”

“Not true,” Dyana told her firmly. “See, my sister and I had been planning things for ages, yeah, but when she—after—”

She swallowed, eyes clenching shut, and Vareem grasped her shoulder, humming in sympathy.

“After my sister was killed,” Dyana started again, and her voice only shook a little, “I was just...lost. I didn’t know what to do, except go on with the plans we’d made. I felt like I owed it to her, to try. I mean, she died trying to make things better for the two of us. For everyone in the city, really. So if I couldn’t carry on for me, I could at least do it for her, you know? But I was just going through the motions. It didn’t feel like anything was possible, without her. I’d lost hope. Truly.”

She squeezed Rose’s hands, tears welling up in her eyes. “Then I met you, and I saw how hard you fought for everything, no matter how bad things seemed to be, no matter how helpless or hopeless. You kept pushing on. You never gave up. Not ever.”

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “You helped me have hope again, Rose.”

Feebly, Rose started to protest—she didn’t deserve such praise, really she didn’t—but her gaze flickered to the Doctor to the Doctor’s just briefly, and she was surprised to see him softer than usual, somehow, a warm grin playing across his face. Like he knew something, maybe, that Rose didn’t.

Like maybe Dyana was right.

Rose’s smile deepened, and she felt a prickle of moisture behind her own eyes. “Thank you,” she said quietly, squeezing Dyana’s hands in return.

“I just thought you were sort of neat,” Vareem interjected and the three of them laughed again.

Brushing away her unshed tears, Rose lunged for Dyana and Vareem, looping her arms about both of them in a snug embrace. “You’re both brilliant, you know that, right?” she asked, hugging them both fiercely. “You’re gonna do great things here. You’re gonna make your sister proud.”

Both women hugged her back, just as tightly. “I really hope so,” said Dyana.

“Well, I just so happen to know so,” piped up the Doctor, “because I’m fairly certain we’re about to enter Hohm’s New Enlightenment, more or less.”

“Hey, now!” protested Mickey. “Are we allowed to say things like that?”

“Oh no, not at all,” the Doctor replied. “Anyhoo! Time to hit the open road, put the pedal to the metal, we’re burnin’ daylight here. Time’s a-wastin’.” The Doctor clapped his hands in illustration. “Let’s get this show on the road. Chop chop!”

Mickey and the Doctor both turned toward the TARDIS, but before she had a chance to move away, Dyana reached out to Rose for another hug. Rose happily accepted, squeezing tightly.

“That Doctor bloke’s hopelessly in love with you,” Dyana whispered in her ear. “You know that, right?”

Rose’s mouth fell open in response. Dyana pulled back with a saucy little wink. Rose’s cheeks flushed hotly in a way that had nothing to do with the sun beaming overhead.

“Stay out of trouble, yeah?” Dyana added, grinning cheekily.

Stepping back, Rose laughed. “No promises,” she said, hands spread wide as she stepped closer to the TARDIS.

“That’s my girl!” Dyana called out, and Vareem blew her a kiss as the TARDIS doors closed.

“That’s it, then?” Mickey asked once they’d entered the Vortex, after the central column stopped grinding and the TARDIS calmed to its usual soothing hum. “We just pop in, have a bit of an adventure, then boom, we’re done, off to the next thing?”

“That’s it,” said the Doctor happily. He bounded round the console as he pressed a button here, threw a lever there. “All round the universe, anywhere and everywhere and everywhen and everything in-between.”

“Never a dull moment, huh?”

“Not with Rose and the Doctor!” the Doctor replied.

“And Mickey,” added Rose, laughing as she climbed up the stairs to the console.

“If you insist,” said the Doctor, and Mickey rolled his eyes. “Now the only question is: what next?”

Rose made a show of pretending to consider as she rounded the console, slowly approaching Mickey. “What, or where, or when?” she asked the Doctor, her tongue peeking out between her teeth.

“Any and all of the above,” said the Doctor, grinning. “Astrion’s still on the table, you know. Or Kabos Prime. Or ancient Egypt! Ooh, ancient Egypt. Who doesn’t love a good sarcophagus every now and then?”

Laughing, Rose nudged Mickey’s shoulder with hers. “Remember your Egypt phase, when you first saw Indiana Jones? This’d be right up your alley, I reckon!”

“Well, yeah,” said Mickey thoughtfully. “But what about you, babe?”

“What about me?”

Mickey shrugged. “You said one day, remember? One day, and then you were going home. Back to the Estate.” He crossed his arms, leaning back on the railing. “You still wanna go home?”

It took a second for the words to sink in, for Rose to remember. Her grin faltering just a little bit, Rose glanced over at the Doctor, before she had a chance to think better of it. Normally he might be fussing about the console right now, making a show of being busy while he pretended not to overhear such a conversation. But now, his hands were still, his attention focused solely on her, his face carefully impassive. Neutral. Watching. Waiting.

(Some things, Sarah Jane had told her, are worth getting your heart broken for.

Rose wondered if those words had been meant for the Doctor, as well.)

She smiled.

“Nah, we can always squeeze in another trip or two, or three,” Rose told Mickey, after a moment. “I’m not in any rush,” she said casually, looking at the Doctor.

The Doctor grinned at her, that soft, quiet grin, again, same as the one she saw before. She thought she might see something loosen in him, just a little bit.

“Quite right, too,” he replied softly.

“All right, cool,” said Mickey, blissfully oblivious to the exchange that had just taken place. “So, ancient Egypt, then? I’d love to see the pyramids. Or a real-live pharaoh, even!”

“Excellent!” the Doctor laughed. He flipped a few switches and the central column lit up, starting its telltale grind and groan. “Ancient Egypt it is, then! You lot ready?”

“Ready!” called Mickey.

“Ready?” the Doctor asked Rose.

She beamed at him. “Ready.”

“Fantastic,” said the Doctor. He pulled a lever on the console and the central column glowed golden, churning; the TARDIS shook and groaned all around them, sailing on the waves of the Vortex, on and out to the next adventure.

The Doctor whooped. “Allons-y!”

***

Find me on AO3! ❤︎

#picandchips #ficandchips #tenrose #tenxrose #ten x rose #it is probably not a great time of night to post this #but i spent the last like 6 hours updating the artwork and I WANNA POST NOW BY GUM #XD #post-gitf #post-gitf fixit #fluff #mbb fic #rose x ten #rose tyler #tenth doctor #mickey smith

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heathsbitch · 4 years

Text

Treat You Better ➳ PEAKY BLINDERS

xii. THE REUNION

The sound of their breathing was the only sound in the room. Everything was silent. Everything was still. Ivy's body moved slightly, her eyes were still shut. She could feel the presence of another body next to her. Memories from the night before came flooding back along with a dull ache that shot down her legs. Slowly, Ivy opened her eyes. They immediately met with Mickey's jawline. It was sharp and prominent. Veins were ever so slightly protruding from his neck and small breaths left his nose. His eyes were shut, he was still asleep.

Light flooded in from the window and illuminated the rest of Michael's face. Miniature patterns of shadows danced across his face and his lips were partially open. The shadows continued down his chest and along his abs. The blankets covered the rest of him. Ivy's legs were wrapped around his and her arm was strewn across Mickey's torso. She realised that she was beginning to stare at him but, it didn't really matter. He was asleep anyway and he wouldn't know. That's what Ivy thought anyway. "You know, it's rude to stare." Michael said, his voice hoarse from the sleep. "Sorry." Ivy immediately apologised. He laughed at her timidness. "You don't have to apologise. I've just woken up," Relief flooded her. "What time is it?" He croaked. Her gaze glanced over to the small clock that rested on her bedside table, it read half past six in the morning. "Half six." Ivy informed the man. "I should move into my own room now. I don't want mum to get suspicious." She nodded at his words. "Do you know what she did to get you out?" He got out of the girl's plush bed, still stark naked. "She'll tell you in her own time. Goodbye, Ivy." With that comment, he left. The coldness of the room now surrounding her naked form. Michael didn't bother to put any clothes on before he left so she just stared at his naked ass as he walked out of her room.

Her eyes closed as Ivy drifted back off into another sleep. The night terrors that usually visited her during the night had not appeared for almost two weeks. She thought it was because she could finally relax. The Solomons didn't have to worry about her father bursting into her room to shout at her or wake her up at a ridiculous hour. She was finally at peace.

A cold hand pressed into her shoulders. "Ivy," Someone whispered. "Ivy." They repeated. She groaned, being pulled from her sleep. Ivy's ice eyes opened to meet with another pair of equally bright eyes. Tommo. She immediately pulled her covers up to her chin to cover any exposed skin. "Tommo, why are you here?" He took a seat on the edge of the girl's bed. "Polly is keeping Michael away from me and she wanted to do the same to you but I persuaded her to let me borrow you for a while."

"That doesn't answer my question, Tom." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'm going to visit your mother and I thought that you would like to pay her and your brother a little visit." He seemed tense when he mentioned Ivy's mother but she thought nothing more of it. Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of her family. It seemed, though, that the only time Tommy wanted to speak with the girl was because he was visiting her family members. Ivy nodded to his proposition, how could she say no to seeing her brother for the first time in three years? "Get dressed and meet me in the car in ten minutes," He patted her shoulder and stood up. "Ivy?" He began before he left her room. "Yes, Thomas?"

"Why are you naked?" She sighed deeply at his question, nerves flowing through her. "It's uh none of your business." Tom's eyebrow lifted up as he glanced at Michael's clothes that he had left on the floor and the marks dotted along the Solomons' neck. Tommo left the room without another word. Ivy peeled herself from her bed, letting out a grunt in the process. The apex of her thighs burned from the night before. She searched for her underwear that was thrown all over the floor and chucked them on. Getting dressed as quickly as possible, Ivy met Tommo downstairs. Nobody was in the house, she wondered where Polly and Michael had gone to. Maybe they were helping with Arthur’s situation?

"Who stayed with you last night?" Tommo asked bluntly as they got closer to May's house. Ivy's breath became heavy and her heart pounded against her chest. "N-no one, Tommo." He chuckled deeply. "Ivy, that wasn't your suit on the floor of your bedroom, was it?" She stayed silent. "Who's was it? Finn's?"

"Why does everybody think that I'm with Finn?" She asked with deep curiosity, avoiding Thomas's question. "Now you're not answering my question." He kept his eyes on the road as he interrogated the girl. "It's not important, Tommo. Seriously." Tom decided not to ask anymore questions about her late night visitor and the rest of the journey to the house was silent.

Greenery stretched for miles. The ground was flat but bursting with plant-life of all kinds. But the house, the house was huge. It was made out of red bricks that glistened in the rare, English sun. It beamed happiness and peace. Stables and a small race-track sat behind the house. This was definitely May's place. "Are you nervous?" Thomas asked Ivy as they pulled into the driveway. "Kind of. I haven't seen my brother in almost three years." The pair got out of the car and Tom gave Ivy's shoulder a quick squeeze before heading off down the path. They reached a set of large wooden doors. Tommo lifted his hand up and rapped his knuckles against the door.

A small, pale maid answered the door. "Miss Carlton. You have visitors." She called out to her mistress. "Ivy, what brings you here?" Ivy's gorgeous mother asked as she glided down the stairs of her house. "I was coming to check up on the horse and thought it would be a good idea to bring her along." Tom answered her question for her. Ivy smiled widely at her mother, happy to see her again. She still held a grudge against May for leaving her for all of those years, but she could understand, from her mother's point-of-view, why she did it. May walked up to her daughter and engulfed her in a warm hug. She smelt amazing, a wonderful mix of peppermint and roses. Ivy made sure to wear a fairly high-necked shirt that day, to cover up any marks that Mickey had made last night. "Come in." May finally said when she pulled away from the embrace.

"Tommy, can you wait in here for now? I think Ivy deserves to see her brother." Thomas nodded and took a seat on a small sofa. Ivy's mother led her into a large room with a bar and golden decorations. "Joseph, darling! Can you come in here for a minute?" She called out to the girl's brother. Sweat formed on Ivy palms, anxiousness pumped through her veins. May stood in front of her daughter but she could see over her shoulder. From the door, Ivy saw a tall boy, that was no older than fourteen, with striking blue eyes. That was him, that was her brother. A tear slipped out of her eye as she saw him properly for the first time in what felt like forever. "Joe." Ivy whimpered. His head immediately snapped up from hearing his sister's voice. "Ivy?" He asked, his voice breaking. Tears slipped from his cerulean eyes, as they did from hers. Ivy sprinted over to her brother and swung her arms around him. Sobs were coming from both of them, hard and fast. "I've missed you so fucking much." He muttered in her ear. "Language." Ivy pretended to tell him off. He laughed, tears still falling from his eyes.

They pulled away from the hug and Ivy gripped her brother's face. "You've grown so much." She choked out. "Well, we haven't seen each other in ages," Ivy laughed at his words. The pair went back into another hug, the grip Joe held on his sister was so tight that she almost struggled to breath. She was glad to be back with him, as was he. "Ivy?" He began. "Yes, Joe?"

"Don't leave. I don't want you to go." She looked back at her mother who had tears in her eyes as well, she gave her a small nod. "I'm not going anywhere." Ivy shook her head and he took a deep breath, pulling his sister back into the tight hug. They stood there for a couple of minutes whilst their mum watched on. The Shelbys had completely flown out of the window and Ivy only wanted to stay there, she didn't want to go back to Birmingham.

"I'll give you two some time to catch up so I can talk to Thomas about the horse." May announced. They pulled out of the hug for the final time to watch her leave the room and go into the arms of Tommo. "Is Thomas the man with the dark hair?" Joe asked Ivy as they took a seat by the window. The window looked out onto the stables. The girl could see multiple horses lined up there, light and dark, small and big. "Yeah." Ivy simply replied to Joe. "He stayed around the other night. I heard some weird nois-"

"Joe, shush." She laughed, cutting him off. He was definitely too innocent to be knowing about that side of life right now. Her hand raised up to her neck and the marks that rested there from last night. She smirked thinking of the dull ache that rested in her legs, also as a result from last night. "Are you staying with him?" Joseph asked his sister. "Yeah. Well, I'm staying with his Aunt and cousin," He gave her a strange look. "It's a long story." He nodded, "Maybe you can tell me later." He said. "Yeah, I'd like that. I guess."

The next couple of minutes were filled with silence as they looked out onto the grand stables of the house. "Why aren't you with Dad?" Ivy's entire body tensed up at the question her brother had just asked. He never knew what he was like; he didn't know the pain that she went through. He knew that his parents used to argue all of the time, but he never knew why. Ivy's mind debated with itself, 'Should I tell him the truth, or only parts?'

"We uh fell out," Ivy decided to tell him the key ideas, not any details. He was still quite young. She would tell him when he got older. He didn’t need to grow up as fast as she did, and she wouldn’t force that upon him. "He got really mad so I ran away. That's basically it," He stayed quiet whilst she told him. Joe moved his hand and placed it on Ivy's, giving it a light squeeze. "So, Joe. Do you have a girlfriend yet?" Ivy decided to change the topic to a much lighter one. His entire face flushed into a bright crimson. "N-no." He stuttered. "I find that hard to believe." The girl ruffled the small curls that rested atop his head. He giggled and pushed her hand away from him. "What about you, Ivy?" He returned the favour by ruffling his sister’s hair with his hand.

"Do I have a girlfriend? I'm afraid not, Joseph." He rolled his eyes at her little joke. "You know what I meant." Annoyance and humour ran through his voice. "Do I, though?" Ivy scrunched up her nose and he mocked her. They went back and forth, pulling stupid faces at each other. Ivy had missed this, a lot. Out of the corner of her eye, the girl noticed her mother and Tommo talking. They stood outside next to a water trough. She stopped messing around with her brother to look at the pair. Just as the boy turned to look in the same direction as his sister, May stood on her tip-toes to press her lips to Tommo's. "No!" Ivy shouted and grabbed Joe's head, turning him away from the scene going on outside. "I'm fourteen, Ivy. You don't think I've never seen people kiss before?" Ivy shrugged her shoulders. "Fair point." She was laughing at something Joseph had said when Thomas burst into the room. "Ivy, time to go." He walked up to the Solomons and roughly grabbed her arm. "What? But I want to stay."

"No, we're leaving. Now." He demanded and dragged Ivy out of the room. She thrashed, trying to get out of his grasp. She didn't want to leave, she wanted to stay there. With her real family.

Joe rushed over to his sister but he couldn't do anything to help her. May came into the room. "Thomas, leave her here. She doesn't want to go back with you." Tommy ignored her and pulled Ivy down the steps of the grand house. Tom pushed the girl into the car. Her gaze was cast to the front door of the house. Ivy saw Joe rush after the car, chasing it down the path. She looked at Thomas. "Take me back," She shouted. He ignored her. "Thomas, take me back to my fucking family!" Thomas slammed his foot on the pedal, the car now going full speed down the road. Ivy gave up fighting, he wasn't listening to her. It was of no use. After being reunited with her family again for barely even ten minutes, Thomas drags her away from them. Why? She wanted to know why he thought he had the right to do that.

But Ivy remained silent.

She wanted her family back, she wanted her father back, she wanted her mother back, she wanted her brother back. she wanted to go back home. Her real home.

xiii. MR SOLOMONS

MASTERLIST

#finn shelby #harry kirton #michael gray #finn cole #smut #angst #fluff #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #treat you better

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missbrunettebarbie · 3 years

Note

Doctor Who

For the record: I am only at the begining of season 5. I skipped most of season 3 and didn't watch even one episode of season 4. This show kills my joy, but I am too stubborn to quit. At first I stood around to see what Moffat era is about and while it was a vast improvement, it was not imoressive. I am watching for River now and for Clara and when she will show up.

the first character i ever fell in love with: ehhh, I don't love anyone here. Except, maybe, River.

a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: I was much more fonder of Rose in season 1 then in season 2. Even if the season's finale gave me feels.

a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: Rose/The Doctor. Rosenine was a bit better than Roseten.

my ultimate favorite character™: River, but I hope Clara dethrones her, no offence. She and her ship with Twelve is the whole reason I started this show.

prettiest character: Clara, hands down.

my most hated character: The Doctor :))). I cannot stand him.

my OTP: Clara/Twelve based solely on gifsets xDD

my NOTP: I wasn't a fan of Rose/Mickey or even Rose/Ten, but for very different reasons.

favorite episode: The one that introduced the Weeping Angels. Amy was so clever there, the horror element is on point and I saw River for the first time.

saddest death: I don't think there were any permanent deaths.

favorite season: I guess season 5? Season 6 has an arc that I am more interested in, but I haven't seen enough yet.

least favorite season: Season 3, but really, were of them are pretty awful. Why do people like this show?

character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: The Doctor. All of them xDD

my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: Umm, well, I liked Lady Cassandra.

my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: Martha deserved better than her boring seasons/era. I could only watch a few episodes with her, sadly.

my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: Ehhh, none? Given spoilers, Amy/Eleven is somehow the closest thing to this, but I am ambivalent to it.

my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: River/The Doctor

#doctor who #my thoughts #this is harsh lmao #anti doctor who #dw thoughts

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partbadpartwolf · 5 years

Text

A Bit of a rant

Why I love Rose Tyler:

Why she is my favorite companion: I wrote this rant in response to a comment that Rose x Doctor felt forced and honestly I’m just posting it here because I needed to get it out but I didn’t feel like getting into it with the person who said it hahaha. So this is more for my own cathartist than anything else. Okay first thing: They started as friends first. She has always called him out on his bullshit, and hasn't always listened to him. She made him show compassion to a Dalek. A species that was literally at war with his people. She knows he's important to the universe, that he needs someone there. Her line of " He's not my boyfriend Mickey he's much more important." That he can't really do what he does alone because he needs someone to ground him. Planets, aliens, people all rely on him. Rose just didn't want him to be on his own. That was her main concern always. When she's at bad wolf bay and asks him if he's going to be on his own and he nods she tells him she loves him. Hoping that is a small comfort for the fact that she knows how lonely and sad he is. When the dalek had her and she was sure she was going to be killed she told the doctor "Whatever happens it wasn't your fault." Basically saying look I signed up for this and I knew the risk I was taking don't blame yourself. When Martha got in danger she screamed at the doctor " this is your fault!" basically trying to absolve herself of any responsibility. Do I like Martha? Yes. She is brilliant and I dont think the doctor necessarily treated her the way she deserved to be treated but that’s another rant. When the possibility that the doctor might be dead Rose's thought was "well even if he was how could I leave him? All on his own all the way down there?" Even if it meant her own death she still didn’t want him to be on his own. When she met Donna she literally told donna she was the most important woman in the whole of creation. Cared about Donna's family, and Donna herself. She invited Sarah Jane along with them, and even asked Sarah Jane seriously if she should stay, looking to the older woman for advice. The only reason they both argued at first was Rose was told NOTHING about her and she saw how close they were and realized does he just get close to people and dump them? Does Rose have selfish moments? Absolutely but so does the Doctor. The Doctor treated Mickey like shit because the Doctor was absolutely 100 percent jealous and wanted Mickey out of the way. Rose remember is a 19 year old girl. She never had much going on in her life and this guy who is 900 years old shows up and basically challenges her reality and she challenges him right back. They challenge each other to think about things differently and changed each other for the better. He gave her purpose, drive, and believed in her even though she was low economic standing, wasn’t “special” by any societal standards, but was brave, compassionate and kind. She taught him that compassion that he carries with him even now. Sorry just had to get this out because their relationship has been one of my favorites for TV couples basically ever and I needed to get out why I love them so much.

#Rose Tyler #The doctor #Doctor who #a rant #I'm so sorry #ten #nine #ten x rose #nine x rose #rtd #series 1 #series 2 #series 3 #series 4

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shewhowantsmouseears · 5 years

Text

Shattered, Chapter 4

Notes: As always, big thanks to my amazing editors Drucilla and BlueShifted!

TW: Suicide Idealization.

Ratface is a "new" addition to the story when it was made in my head, although by new I mean about a year or two.

Summary: As Minnie makes a major decision about her future, she finds an unusual ally for her journey.

Despair and agony didn't stop time, but they did make Minnie less aware that it was passing. When Minnie was put to bed, she didn't get up for hours, which turned into days. When her parents tried to speak to her, she didn't hear them. When Mama tried to put food in her mouth, she didn't acknowledge it. Although her body ached from hunger and grew sore from lack of movement, it seemed incredibly small compared to the pain in her heart. Mickey was gone, and it was her fault. In retrospect, everything was pointless.

Eating was pointless. Sleeping was pointless. Talking was pointless.

On day three of Minnie's mourning, Papa entered her room quietly and sat down on the bed, taking off his hat. He didn't say anything initially, thumbing the hat in his hands and observing his daughter who was becoming thinner by the day. When he finally thought of something to say, it was as if he was making it up off the top of his head. “You need to get up,” he said softly, not looking at her. “School's over soon... you'll have to start your new job. Sewing's a fine thing. We need all the help we can get with our clothes... we're not getting new material in. And your mother is wasting food if you won't eat it.”

He didn't think this would be enough to stir Minnie, and he was sadly correct. He reached out to touch her hand, squeeze it, but even that didn't get her to as much as look at him. He sighed deeply, getting up and placing his hat back on his head. “Better him than you, Minnie. You're a good girl. You always have been. What good does it do anyone if you lay here the rest of your days?” With that, he left, closing the door behind him.

Night had already fallen, and Papa and Mama went off to bed. But as Minnie lay there, she finally heard what someone had said – unfortunately, she understood it a different way. Yes, it wouldn't do anyone any good to lay there forever.

It wouldn't do anyone any good if she continued to exist.

She wordlessly rose from her bed, aware of what needed to be done. If everything was pointless, that included living. Why burden her parents? Why burden the village? Ultimately she had even been a burden to Mickey. If not for her, maybe he'd still be here. Without making a sound, she found the string to the attic, and pulled it down, climbing up the stairs to the forbidden room. It had become even mustier, and the singular window even dirtier. This time she paid no attention to the alluring mysteries of the room, and headed to the window with one goal in mind.

Yes, maybe from this height, she could...

The snow had stopped falling, though she couldn't say when. Didn't care, either. She stepped out into the night, letting the chill embrace her. If Mickey was dead, she'd merely be joining him. Yes, this was for the best, wasn't it? Everyone would be better off without her. She stepped onto the terrace, and then onto the edge, looking out across the village. Nothing here would ever change, even if one by one they were snatched away by the Snow Queen. Even if one girl ceased to be, it would still go on. No one would miss her. No one would care.

Everything would feel better if she just gave up.

She inhaled deeply – and then flinched as a harsh wind blew around her. It felt like a slap to the face, and when she opened her eyes, she saw a red petal fly in front of her.

The color stood out so brilliantly that it stopped Minnie completely. She blinked several times, assuring herself that it wasn't an illusion. But where had it come from? She faltered, and then fell backwards with a little “Oof!”, sitting on hard dirt. But what was dirt doing...? The memories came back all at once – Mickey's attempt at a garden.

There, surrounded by dozens of other dead attempts at the same flower, stood one singular red rose. It was even more beautiful than the illustration in Mickey's books, a red she'd never seen in any food or clothing before. She felt her mouth open in shock, and as she observed the area around the rare flower, she could see this hadn't been Mickey's first attempt. He'd dug various holes, planted many seeds, and although each one kept dying, he still attempted. He never told Minnie about this, perhaps not wanting to get her hopes up until he finally succeeded. How many times had he tried? Five? Ten? Twenty? She was losing count. And he'd done this for years, and years, and years.

An image came to her then, of little Mickey stubbornly making another dirty hole with his fingers and planting the seed, tucking it in gently with a proud smile on his face. He didn't have any proof it would work, yet he saw no reason to stop. He kept trying. He never gave up on it.

And he never gave up on Minnie, either. Even as the Snow Queen had loomed over him, he had told her to leave Minnie be.

Minnie heaved, and then covered her mouth for what she knew was to come – a scream. An agonizing, horrible scream as her body allowed her to properly grieve. Hot tears flooded her eyes, making the world a blur. Here she had been ready to throw away her life, when Mickey had done everything in his power to protect her. What had she been about to do? She choked hard on her sobs, wishing she could apologize to Mickey for her selfishness. He had been trying so hard to convey what she couldn't understand until this rose showed her – she had a reason to live, and he was that reason.

Her hands dropped, clenching the dirt. She couldn't go on living without him, so what was there to do? He wasn't going to return, no one ever came back from the Snow Queen's grasp. As her cries died down, her eyes staying on the rose, the rest of her mind began to settle. If one took away all obvious options, such as staying here and waiting, then... really, there was only one thing to do.

Minnie had to get Mickey back.

She blinked at the rose, not surprised when a slightly rational part of her chided this idea. What could a stupid, weak girl like her possibly do against the powerful Snow Queen? How would she even find the magical witch? What if she got a shard in her just like Mickey did? There were a million reasons not to do this. Yet they all seemed inconsequential to the one obvious truth.

Minnie wanted him back. So that was that.

After swallowing once, she brushed down her clothes, and then crept over to the rose. Mickey had left some tools around the garden, and she used his small pocketknife to chip away the thorns on the rose. With that accomplished, she plucked it out of the dirt and placed it behind her left ear. It would do well as a reminder of her goal, a part of him that was always with her.

She looked back at the window, and understood she had to do this now, and quickly. If her parents discovered what she was going to attempt, they'd surely stop her. No doubt the rest of the village would feel the same way. It was now or never. She came back to the window, crawling inside, and left the attic. She found her school satchel, and emptied the books out – she could only afford to grab a few things, and she didn't want to risk making too much noise and waking up her parents. She held onto Mickey's pocketknife, tucking it in first, along with a few vegetables for food. She didn't want to deprive her parents of anything necessary, and genuinely didn't know how long this would take.

With her satchel over her shoulders, she headed out into the snow. Minnie knew that the Snow Queen's sled had come from the woods, so, logically, she must go into the woods. Surely if she walked around long enough, she'd have to come across her lair eventually, even if it meant going all over the world. Her knowledge of what laid beyond the village was minimal, as the school hadn't seen any worth in teaching it. Part of her knew she was wholly unprepared, but she still walked forward, the world silent save for her footsteps crunching on powder.

After a certain point, they crunched something else. Minnie stopped and looked down, seeing a familiar glint buried beneath the snow. After a moment of hesitation, she bent down to dig it out – and there lay the necklace that Mickey had bought for her.

“Will you be my bride?”

She never gave him an answer. He deserved one. If she couldn't bring him back to the village, she could at least give him an answer. She brushed the snow off the necklace, seeing her unwanted reflection in the red, and tucked it into her satchel. She didn't feel she was worthy of wearing it. Not until she told Mickey what she wanted to say.

With that settled, Minnie continued walking towards the woods. She had never ventured in there before, and the closer she got, the taller the trees became. By the time she was definitely inside the woods, they seemed to stretch on forever into the heavens. She walked on, eyes flitting here and there, rather curious about this place she'd never reached before. She had expected to be frightened, and while she was, it didn't wholly consume her. She walked and walked and walked, walked as hunger began to nibble at her belly, as exhaustion tugged at her ankles, as sleep tried to nudge her eyelids.

She walked on as the sun began to rise, and the tree's shadows crisscrossed over her, and she felt an odd comfort in that. It was if the trees were watching over her, and giving their blessings for her journey. She knew it was a silly thought, but one Mickey would chuckle one. At first she heard him chuckling, but then realized what she was actually hearing – there was a rustle in the tree's branches in front of her.

Minnie slowed her walk to a stop, and it was only due to the dawn's sunlight that she saw what was making the sound. There, at a very low branch, was a large black raven, cleaning its wing with its beak. Minnie found herself smiling – animals were getting rarer to see with every passing year, so this was a treat. She observed the cute thing with its dark feathers and green eyes. The bird finished cleaning, and then met Minnie's eyes, blinking at her.

“Hello, pretty bird,” said Minnie.

“Hello, pretty girl,” said the bird.

Minnie almost walked on, except – wait a minute. She then whirled her head back to the tree, startled. While her education was severely limited, even she knew that birds weren't supposed to talk. She stared hard at the raven, wondering if she'd lost her mind. She was glad she was alone when she asked, “Did you just speak?”

“It would've been awfully rude if I didn't, don't you think?” the raven replied, leaning his head down to get a better look at her.

Minnie waited a bit, then pinched her cheek – this was real life, all right. “But... but birds don't talk.”

“And yet here I am, talking away.” The raven clicked his tongue. “You may be a pretty thing, but you're not terribly bright, I see. After all, what is a young one like you walking alone in these woods for?”

It was a fair question, and Minnie decided that trying to find sound reason in the bird's existence wouldn't get her anywhere. “I'm... The Snow Queen took my friend, so I'm going to bring him back.” It sounded so simple when she said it out loud, despite the very words themselves being impossible.

The raven appeared to think the same way, as after he was finished gawking at her, he began to laugh, one wing on his belly. “You? You think YOU can bring back one of the Snow Queen's prisoners?” He laughed more, hopping on the branch, and Minnie patiently waited for him to run out of breath. She was rather annoyed at his reaction, but couldn't blame him, so there was no use in getting angry about it. “What makes you think you can do what no one else has done? You're not even headed in the right direction!”

Minnie's eyes widened, and she sprinted towards the tree. “Does that mean you know where it is?”

The raven snapped his beak shut, and then looked away, pretending to be an average, ordinary bird. He even tried to chirp, but it sounded more like a grown adult mimicking a pitiful bird call than a real one. Minnie gave him a curt look, and he grumbled, “So what if I did know?”

“Oh please, pretty bird,” Minnie begged, her hands on the tree, trying to tippy-toe up to implore as best she could. “Please show me where the Snow Queen lives! I must get my friend back, I must tell him what he needs to hear!”

“And why should I do such a thing?” the raven asked her, its beady eyes squinting. “What can you do for me?”

It only occurred to Minnie now that she hadn't brought any money or anything truly worth exchanging. She felt dumber than ever, and fished around in her satchel for something she hoped a bird would crave. “I have some tasty vegetables!”

“Pass. I'm full.”

“How about a pocketknife?”

“Pass. My beak and my claws do plenty.”

That left her with just the necklace, and Minnie was reluctant to part with it. She glanced at the raven, and then at the satchel, before closing it up and walking away. “All right. Goodbye, pretty bird.”

The raven stared at her back, incredulous, and then jumped off the branch, flying to the next tree. “Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong with you? Aren't you mad at me?”

“No,” which wasn't entirely true, but as always, Minnie felt no need to feel. “I don't have anything to give you, so I'll just have to find her myself.”

“You'll never find her on your own! You'll wither and die long before that! If you had any brains between those big ears of yours, you'd go back home.” But no matter how much he insulted her and informed her about chances that she was more than well aware of, she didn't stop. Minnie continued to walk on, face forward, never looking back. The raven flitted from tree to tree, and Minnie found herself walking towards the trees he occupied.

Was she just lonely, or was he leading her around? Minnie quietly hoped he wasn't trying to take her back to the village, but to her relief, they came upon a riverbank. A few empty wooden fishing boats lay on the shore with abandoned nets, with Minnie remembering that the fish supply was getting low. The raven flew to the closest boat and sat on the edge. “See, you'll never get anywhere now. The river is barely moving. It'll take you forever and a half to get there, you'll never last.”

Minnie raised her eyebrows. “I was thinking of walking along the river's edge. Are you saying it's faster to get there by boat?” When the raven said nothing, she spoke again. “I think you do actually want to help me, pretty bird. You're just being very silly about it. Would you like to come with me?”

“What I said still stands,” the raven huffed, turning his cheek away, ruffling his black feathers. “Look at the river, it's at a standstill. You can't force the tide. You'll have to walk, and then you'll get tired and cry and give up. You people aren't made for the stuff it takes.”

Didn't that just raise a whole new field of questions? But Minnie was certain if she tried to ask directly, the raven would dodge them. She looked at the river, and then approached it until the water almost touched her shoes. She saw herself reflected in the clear water, and thought, and thought, and thought.

“Do you know what they call your village?” the raven asked, leaning back and forth on the boat. “They say it's the land of the walking corpses. You people may as well be dead already, if not on the outside.” Minnie didn't know if this was true, or if he was just trying to rile her up. He certainly was a strange one, and thus Minnie decided she had to embrace just how weird her entire trip was going to be. It gave her an odd sense of freedom, and she nodded to herself.

“Maybe if I give the river something, it'll help me,” she decided out loud.

The raven stared at her, and then scoffed. “Give the river something? You are truly insane, pretty girl. What sort of gift could a river want?”

Minnie couldn't imagine a river could want, but that wasn't the point of the gesture. She thought of the villagers who complained when they lost things when fishing, only to be educated by their peers that complaining would solve nothing, they should be grateful for what they kept, so on and so forth. “People lose things by accident in the water,” Minnie concluded, and then bent over. “But no one's ever given you anything on purpose, have they?”

The raven shook his head. “The girl's talking to a river. What a loon.”

Unfazed, Minnie went on. “It's not much, but it's what I can afford to give you. I don't know if you can take me all the way to where the Snow Queen is... but if you could give me any sort of help, I would be grateful. My friend was taken away, and he asked me something very important. I need to give him an answer.” With that, she slid off her shoes, and pushed them into the water.

“That's not going to...” The raven began, trailing off as the shoes floated in the water, and then were pushed back onto the dry shore.

Minnie took a deep breath. “Please, river! Please, take them. I must see my friend again, please, please!” She bent her head low, and the raven noted this was the first spot of emotion, aside from surprise, he'd seen from her.

The water pushed forward, and then back, swallowing up the shoes. The river rippled, and then began to churn forward, slowly, and the boat the raven was sitting on began to rock. Minnie sighed in relief, and then began to climb into the boat. “Thank you very much, river. When I come home, I will tell everyone to clean you up.” The boat was small, simple, able to fit two, which for Minnie was more than enough. It floated quietly on the stream and began to leave the shore.

“That shouldn't have worked,” the raven grumbled, though he didn't move.

Minnie placed her satchel down on the bottom. “Maybe it was just good luck,” she offered in an attempt to appease her companion.

However, it did the opposite, as the bird suddenly jerked, and its green eyes hardened. “What... did you say?”

“I said, maybe it was just good luck?”

Suddenly the bird flew at her face, screeching, “DON'T YOU EVER SAY THAT WORD AGAIN!” And Minnie gave a cry of surprise, gripping the boat's side so she wouldn't fall out.

“W-what word?” She stammered, worried he might try to claw her face with his sharp talons or his rough beak.

“LUCK!” he snapped at her, and although he came close to her eyes he didn't once hurt her. “Luck is the mindset of the fool! The epitome of stupidity! Anyone who relies on luck should be hung from their feet and made to suffer for all eternity! If you ever say that word in front of me again, I'll leave you and never return!” He then flew to the opposite end of the boat and sat, his wings shuddering, his back to her.

Minnie blinked slowly, natural curiosity making her wonder what in the world could have happened to him to make him despise such a word. She sat up slowly, smoothing down her dress, and tried to think of what to say. They floated along the river in silence for a moment. “I'm sorry,” she finally attempted. “I didn't mean to upset you, pretty bird. You have my word, I'll never say lu-... that word again.”

The raven turned his head, although he didn't look back at her yet. “I suppose you have little fault, you didn't know.” His voice was much softer now, and he appeared to be looking at his form in the water. When he spoke again, it was once more arrogant and haughty. “But if we're to do this impossible quest, you need to give me your name. Can't go calling you pretty girl all the time, it will give you a swelled head.”

Fair enough. Minnie sat up straighter. “My name is Minnie... but, then, what do I call you?”

Again, the raven looked at himself, and then with one hop, he turned around. “You will call me Ratface,” he declared, as if he thought it to be terribly clever.

Minnie blinked slowly. Whenever people discussed rats in her home, it was usually as a derogatory term. “Are you sure? It doesn't sound very nice.” It seemed very rude to call someone that, especially one who was going to help her, reluctant and strange though the help may be.

“It's what you will call me,” Ratface replied, waving a wing to dismiss the matter. “And I will respond to nothing else. If you can't handle that, you may as well go back home.”

She sighed quietly to herself. “Very well... Ratface.” In her mind's eye, she could see Mickey reacting to the raven with a mixture of annoyance and bemusement. She couldn't recognize that these were actually her own feelings, as they were so foreign. “Ratface, may I take a nap? I have not slept in some time, and if this is going to be such a long journey, I'd like to get some sleep. Will you wake me up when the boat has reached the shore?”

“I might,” Ratface said, and Minnie understood this was as good as she was going to get from him.

“Thank you, Ratface. For everything.” She then moved until she was on the floor of the small boat, and rested her head upon her satchel, her eyes closed. Ratface walked along the boat's edge, observing her quietly. His eyes were on her lips, which smiled so strangely, as if she could not tell she had been smiling. This was the sort of girl the world of the Snow Queen produced, so he thought. What would she have been like if there wasn't a Snow Queen?

Add that to his extremely long list of “what if”s. He waited until he saw the natural rise and fall of her chest, and then dipped his wing into the river. The water was warm, which didn't surprise him any. He'd lived long enough to know that the whole world was full of mysteries and monsters, and sometimes you'd never get an explanation for things. Some rivers listened. Some did not. Some people listened. Some did not.

He then walked quietly onto the boat's floor, and used his wet wing to lightly clean bits of Minnie's hair that been ravaged by her dormant stages of grief, and then smoothing it out with his beak. He then laid beside her, his dry wing covering her eyes so the sun wouldn't disturb her. He didn't sleep himself, didn't have to. He tried not to think of the “what if”s, and yet one inevitably came.

What if Minnie was the one?

~*~

Mickey had drifted in and out of consciousness during his capture, so it was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he arrived in... well, of that, he wasn't sure either. He seized onto this moment with all the strength he had, which was barely any, and as his vision tried to straighten, he saw himself reflected everywhere – on the walls, on the ceiling, on the floor, as if he was surrounded by ice. He wasn't standing by his own will – the two riders of the sled were holding him up by the arms, not paying him any attention otherwise. He tried to find his voice, and it came out in harsh breaths. “Wh-who... are you...?”

But they didn't acknowledge him. Their blue eyes stayed ahead, unblinking, their touch as cold as death. He heard footsteps, which was easy – whatever this place was, it was so large and empty that any noise echoed endlessly. It was no great shock who the footsteps came from. The Snow Queen approached the trio, staff in hand, eyes on him. Mickey gave in to anger easily, and tried to wrestle his arms out of their grasp, but all it amounted to was a pathetic wiggling of his fingers. “Y-You...” It hurt to speak, yet he felt he must. “Can't make me... stop... loving her...”

“I can,” the Snow Queen said casually, and then she touched his cheek, her cold touch like daggers slicing his skin. “I must admit... you've held on longer than most. But in the end, you will be like all the others. If you give up now, the rest of this will go much smoother.”

Had Mickey the strength, he would have spat at her feet. Granted, had Mickey the strength, there was a lot he'd like to do. Instead, his body gave his strength to his eyes, which allowed him to see what lay beyond the icy walls – and horror grew inside his chest.

Soldiers, just like the ones at his sides, hundreds of them, men, women, old, young, staying absolutely still. All of them with the same blue eyes, and Mickey knew what his fate would be – what the fate of all those who had dared to love had been. What words could he say that they didn't say before their time was up? “Why...” he breathed, chest hitching. “Why are you... doing this? I just want her... to be happy... It's not fair...” It was childish at this point, but it was all he had.

The Snow Queen began her ritual, holding the staff with two hands, and the mirror began to glow. The crack in the glass began to spread. “One shard to freeze your mind...”

Whatever was to come next, there was no turning back. “You would understand, if you just... If you just... tried to love someone!”

The impact those words had on the Snow Queen was immediate – her entire body clenched, and there was a pain in her eyes so deep and wretched that took her away to a time years ago. No wonder this boy reminded her of - She staggered, teeth clenched, and when she spoke again, it was a hiss. “Two shards... to freeze your heart!”

So she had – this time the shard came without needing the third commandment, large and sharp as a knife, cutting off Mickey's thoughts so harshly he did not have the ability to scream. The color vanished from his fur, from his face, leaving nothing but white skin and blue eyes. But this transformation was much more painful, contorting the bones and muscles underneath until they were hard and cold, his clothes transforming into the armor that all the other soldiers donned. In his mind, he could see the village vanishing, his people vanishing, and Minnie, Minnie, Minnie, he wanted to call her name, to announce that nothing and no one could stop him from loving her, he just wanted to see her smile again, Minnie -

And then she was gone.

Mickey's head slumped forward... and then rose slowly, his body straightening up. The soldiers at his side released him. The Snow Queen breathed deeply, then softly, settling back into her calm demeanor. That had been nothing. She felt nothing. Anything the boy had tried to dredge up was dead and buried. What she was doing was her right. Love brought nothing but pain to this world, and it was her duty to eliminate it. She was saving this world.

The continuing winter and snow, that was punishment for those who continued to love. If everyone would just give up, they could see the greenery again. Yet there would always be fools, so there would always be suffering.

With that in mind, she raised her hand over the floor, and summoned up a new weapon for her new soldier – a blade of ice, and Mickey took it wordlessly. “As my newest soldier, you will prove your worth. There are lands that continue to defy me... and they will have to be punished.”

The staff began to shrink down, until the mirror could be held in her hands. With this, she could see all that she wished to see, and the mirror glowed before giving an image. “You will head for the Golden Kingdom, and you will take the princess.” The soldiers didn't respond, not that she expected them to, as the mirror showed the image of a young woman with yellow curls twirling around in a new blue dress.

The image then began to change, to show someone else, to show what she once wished to see – and she quickly threw it to the floor before she saw it. How bothersome, to think that her magic could still have flaws after all these years.

How bothersome to think that she could still have flaws after all these years. But they would be fixed. The world would be fixed. Even if it took her until the end of time, love would die.

Only then would the world know peace, and wasn't it the duty of any angel to give the world peace?

#disney #fanfic #shattered #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #magica de spell #ratface #tw: suicide idealization

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 5 years

Text

Second Chance at Forever - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 of this year’s entry for the @dwsecretsanta, my present to @wordsintimeandspace! Beta’d by the always-kind @stupidsatsuma

@doctorroseprompts and @timepetalscollective as an AU fic

General warnings for: alcohol use, cursing, discussions of sexual activities

Masterlist

AO3

Summary

Once upon a time, a boy and girl met at a bar and fell in love - until he ghosted her.

Five years later Rose Tyler’s best friend Mickey is getting married, and arranges a dinner for her to meet the groomsman she’ll be walking with - unaware that the two already know each other.

John Noble’s not sure how his friend and mentee managed to connive with the Universe to bring the One Who Got Away back into his life; all he knows it carefully built and maintained walls are crashing to the ground with no warning.

Feeling terrible, John picked at the chips. “I have no idea why my card was declined, I’m so sorry.”

“It was my turn anyway.” Seemingly nonplussed, Rose was chowing down on her own order, and he realized she must have skipped lunch. Too busy crying over you. Again. Jackass.

“You’re too forgiving.”

Rose’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, before slowly lowering. “Clearly, we have communication issues,” she started, staring down at her chips. “And trust issues. And you-thinking-too-hard is a problem. But… I still think it’s worth pursuing. I still want to find out what we’re capable of. Do you?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, leaning forward and reaching for her hand, which she gave willingly. “I meant it, when I said it was you. And there hasn’t been anyone else since we first met, by the way.”

Her eyes widened, grip tightening on his hand. “Not for me, either,” Rose breathed. “I… really liked you, John.”

“What about now?”

She was silent for long moments, making his heart race with worry. “I’m falling,” she finally spoke. “Hard, and fast. And that terrifies me, because the last time you just up and disappeared on me. I can’t… I can’t give myself to you if I still think there’s a chance you’ll vanish again.”

“I won’t,” he promised softly, thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. “I swear to you. How can I make you believe me?”

“Time. That’s why I want to wait until after the wedding. That’s what I need.” She met his eye then, a steely glint there, and he knew he couldn’t change her mind even if he wanted to.

“Then that’s what you’ll get. Can I make a revision to our original agreement, however?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded. “Depends – what is it?”

“You said ‘friends’,” he started slowly. “I want to say dating. Exclusively. And nothing physical, that’s fine, I’m not trying to talk you out of it – but it might help you to know that as far as I’m concerned, we’re together. If that’s what you want. So if people ask, you can say you have a boyfriend – they don’t need to know what is or isn’t happening in the bedroom.”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” Rose laughed, throwing her head back, and he was momentarily stunned by her beauty.

“Are you sure you want me?” he countered. “I’m twenty years older than you, Rose. Is that really what you want for your future? I must be about your parents’ age.”

“You are,” she shrugged. “But I don’t care. Really, I don’t. Because I see you, John. I see the man you are. That’s what I want. I just… I knew. I knew.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

Rose shook her head, biting her lip. “It’s not about deserve.”

“If you say so.” He picked up another chip, gesturing for her to continue eating. “What will your parents say, though? I actually don’t know much about them, you’ve never said.”

She barked out a laugh, glancing around carefully at the other patrons. Other than them, only two or three others were scattered at the tables, none paying them a lick of attention and seemingly too far away to hear their conversation. “Erm, they’re your age actually – they had me at twenty. Um, they’ve been married since. Mum used to do hairdressing and stuff, was pretty good at it – now she’s a homemaker, I guess. We lived on an Estate until I was… about four.”

Rose licked her lips, looking nervous, and he squeezed her hand. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“My dad’s always been sort of an inventor, having these mad ideas. None of them went anywhere for the longest time, until… he created this brand of health drinks.”

“It did well then?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Ever heard of Vitex?”

John’s eyes went wide, staring at her in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“You’re Pete Tyler’s daughter?”

“Yep. And thank you, for not calling me ‘the Vitex heiress’. I hate that.”

He shook his head, trying to process this revelation. Of course he’d heard of Vitex, everyone had. It was the best-selling health drink, and his unofficial experiments and testing of the beverages showed that while the benefits were modest, it certainly wasn’t a scam as the company’s opponents liked to claim. Its business practices were also respectable, heavily supporting various charities and reinvesting in the community. There were mumblings about Pete Tyler eventually running for a seat in the House of Commons, and maybe even being Prime Minister someday.

“I had no idea.”

“Thanks,” she grinned wryly. “I may’ve grown up with money most of my life, but it was just… there. My parents still brought me up as though it could disappear any second; I certainly wasn’t raised in the lap of luxury. I went to a good school, but I still had crappy summer jobs and had to earn spending money. My brother, on the other hand…”

“Do you live at home?” John asked, curious. “At least, that was the impression I got the first time round.”

“I did then,” Rose confirmed, “but after I graduated uni I moved out. They bought me a nice flat as a graduation gift, but I’ve been living on my salary since.”

His brow furrowed, filtering that in with what he’d already known. “I thought you were already working when we met.”

“Yeah, but it was summer,” she explained. “Internship.”

“Oh.”

“Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“My age.” Rose crossed her arms, leaning forward on the table as she steadily met his gaze. “You keep thinking it’s an issue for me… is it really a problem for you?”

John exhaled. “I’m forty-six, Rose. I’m a year older than your father. What’s he going to think?”

“So that’s a yes then,” she deduced, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to deny it. “Okay.”

“I’m falling too, Rose,” he murmured, closing his eyes. “Desperately. You’re not the only one afraid the other’s going to find something better.”

“So where do we go from here?” Rose looked tired, toying with her fork and stabbing chips without lifting them to her mouth. “What next?”

“We keep dating?” John rubbed his hands over his face, trying to think. “And we just… talk, I suppose. It’s like you said – it just needs time. Then we reevaluate after the wedding.”

“All right.”

Rose still looked sad, and hurt, and his heart ached. “Hey.” He extended his hands across the table, palms up, and after a long look she settled her own on top. “There’s no one else’s hand I’d rather hold.”

She attempted a grin, and though it was still sad, it was genuine, and he smiled back.

“Okay.”

When Rose walked into the office the next morning, Donna was already seated at her desk and on the phone, arguing with a vendor.

She waved, and Rose nodded in return, wincing as Donna’s voice raised. She was an excellent assistant, hard-working and organized, exactly what Rose’s occasionally-scatterbrained personality needed to keep her on track. But she was scary, and Rose was always thankful when Donna’s yelling wasn’t directed at her.

Twenty minutes later, once Rose had grabbed a cuppa and started going through her emails, Donna rapped on the half-opened door.

“Come in.”

“So…” her assistant prompted, settling on one of Rose’s guest chairs. “What happened after you left yesterday? No dirty details, I don’t need that much information about my big brother, but otherwise, tell me everything.”

“Uh…” Rose shuffled a few papers, coughing awkwardly. “Were you able to-”

“The Emerson meeting is fully scheduled, I sent the Robertson’s documents to the printers, and arranged all three potential-client meetings for next week. Work is fine. Talk personal,” Donna ordered. “The curiosity is killing me. The idea of you and John is at the same time mind-boggling and perfectly obvious. I can’t believe I didn’t think of setting you up first.”

“What do you know?” Rose asked, biting her lip.

“‘Know’ might be a bit strong, but I have a few facts that I suspect are all relevant. One – Five years ago I stand John up for drinks, and the next afternoon he calls and thanks me. That’s beyond strange. Two – for the following week every time I talked to him, he sounded like he was on Cloud Nine – which is impressive, considering he can be the grumpiest bastard I’ve ever met. Three – he shows up on my doorstep at one in the morning blitzed, moaning and grumbling on about some girl’s heart I somehow broke. Four – he hasn’t had a relationship since. Five – in the last three weeks, he has reverted to cavity-causing-sweet happy John. Six – he spent all of lunch yesterday telling me about all the places he’s been lately, which is surprising for a bloke who basically leaves his flat to go to work.”

“Wow,” Rose blinked at the veritable waterfall of information. “I… don’t even know where to start with that.”

“The beginning’s usually a good place,” Donna drawled.

“The beginning,” she repeated, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her stomach. “Okay. Um, we met five years ago at a club, on a night when you cancelled on him at the last moment. We were together for almost two weeks when he stood me up and completely ghosted me. A month ago we met again at a dinner for our mutual friends, Martha… something, Jones I think, and Mickey Smith. We’re supposed to walk together in the wedding.”

Donna’s face dropped. “Wait, what? He ghosted you?”

“Yep.”

“That idiot!” she burst out, to Rose’s surprise. “I’ve seen you two together for about thirty seconds, but I know you, and I know him, and you must be the best fucking thing to ever happen to him. And he just- moron.”

“Thank you?” Rose was touched by her vote of confidence. “D’you really think so?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“The age difference?”

“So what? Who cares?” Rose’s eyebrow shot up, and she nodded. “Of course he does. Cause he’s an idiot. Does it bother you?”

“No. But he… seems to think I’ll want to trade him in for a younger model somewhere along the way.”

“Will you?”

Slowly, Rose shook her head. “No. I… well…”

Comprehension sparked in Donna’s eyes, and she nodded wisely. “I see. But as smart as he is- and he is, certified genius, him- he’s a right bloody idiot. And a prat.”

“Thanks.” The women shared a smile.

“What if…” Rose started, biting her lip in worry. She considered Donna to be a friend, if only casually, but now she was John’s sister. Would she keep Rose’s confidence?

“Donna your assistant’s perfectly capable of keeping secrets from Donna his sister,” Donna said, seemingly reading her mind. “And I’m actually the perfect person to talk to, considering I know him. Then so long as I can bully him into telling me things, then maybe I can keep you two goobers from another miscommunication.”

“What if he wants someone older?” she blurted. “Someone his own age.”

Donna’s eyebrow shot up, and she gave her an incredulous look. “Know a lot of blokes who’d trade younger women for older ones, do you? In my experience, it’s usually the other way around.”

She shrugged, slumping. “John’s not like that. At least, I don’t think so. He says he wants me, but… he said that the first time. How do I know he’s not going to get scared again?”

“I can’t promise that,” Donna said quietly. “But I can say this- he really likes you, Rose. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be this torn up about it all.”

Rose nodded, blinking her eyes to chase away tears. “Thanks.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Keep seeing each other. After Martha and Mickey’s wedding at the end of the year we’re going to reevaluate.”

Donna merely smiled, looking down at her notebook and shuffling a few papers. “One last thing before we focus on work…”

“Shoot.”

“We should go shopping together somewhere along the line so I can make sure John picks out a nice ring for you.”

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #timepetalscollective #ficandchips #dwsecretsanta #doctor who #Human!NinexRose #human!nine #rose tyler #au #second chance at forever #oohlala

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incomingalbatross · 5 years

Note

Fandom ask: Doctor Who, Gravity Falls, Psmith

Ooh, THREE of my fandoms? Thank you! This got very long, though, I’m afraid… I think I’m going to split it into three posts. Hopefully that’s okay!

1. Doctor Who

Favorite Male Character: Ahh, so many amazing ones… Overall, I guess I’d have to say the Doctor. But it’s not just because he’s the main character! He’s got so much depth and complexity, and he’s such a good person and–especially post-Time War–tries so hard to be one. And he cares about individual people so much, all the time! And he manages all this while being a chaotic, childish, idiot dork, which I love so much.

Favorite Female Character: Hmm… Again, so many amazing ones! This is very hard… Today I think I have to go with Sarah Jane? There’s a reason she got a New Series appearance and her own (amazing!) spin-off. So yes… either Sarah or the TARDIS. (Yes, the TARDIS is a character. I love her.) But I love a LOT of the female companions. (Donna is probably my fave in the New Series? Under the loudness and brashness, she’s just a beacon of compassion and maturity in pretty much all of her stories.)

Least Favorite Character: …ROSE. I’m sorry, but this is not a hard choice. Just… Rose. For many, many reasons.

Favorite Ship: Ian/Barbara, maybe… They’re certainly the most unanimous ship in the fandom. :) But I also like Harry/Victoria, which I made up myself and started shipping by accident. (New Series might be Doctor/River, especially since seeing her with 12? They were just… so married together, and really conveyed the pain and the love of that tangled relationship. I also support Amy/Rory and Martha/Mickey.)

Favorite Friendship: OOH. Again, so many… Probably the Doctor & the Brigadier. It’s just… so unchangeable and timeless and good. The Brigadier supported him from the moment they met, just about, and gave him a home in his third life, and is always so incredibly accepting of him? And the Doctor snarks at him and the military and humanity, but I’m pretty sure he trusts and respects the Brig more than anyone in the universe. (Also they’re fun. One of the least angsty relationships out there–just look at the Brigadier’s return appearances!)

Favorite Quote: Depends on the day… “There’s no point in being grown-up if you can’t be childish once in a while!” “There are some corners of the universe which have bred the most terrible things. (…) They must be fought.” “Laugh hard, run fast, be kind.” “Just go forward, in all your beliefs, and prove to me that I am not mistaken in mine.” “Nothing is ever forgotten, not completely. And if something can be remembered, it can come back.“

Worst Character Death (if any): This may be cheating, but… some of the Doctor’s deaths, probably. :P The Fourth and Sixth in particular deserved better endings–oh, and David Tennant, as well.

This made me so happy you have no idea Moment: Basically any moment in the New Series when they reference continuity? Off the top of my head, hearing him mention Susan in Rings of Akhaten was AMAZING. So were the old-school Cybermen in The Doctor Falls. And, of course, the end of Day of the Doctor.

Saddest Moment: Maybe the end of Hand of Fear, when Sarah leaves… Companion departures are usually the saddest moments. (In the New Series, maybe the Brigadier’s death?)

Favorite Location: THE TARDIS. I love the TARDIS. It’s so big and mysterious and weird, but also one of the safest places in the universe… It’s perfect and I want to live in it.

(Gravity Falls and Psmith answered as well, now!)

#isfjmel-phleg #doctor who #classic who #new who #asks #ask meme #i really do love this show a lot #and writing this helped remind me of all the reasons why #so thank you!

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distant-rose · 6 years

Note

1, 10, 16, 22 FOR SALTY ASKS, BITCH! xo

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?

I’m going to say it and people are going to possibly fight me but Rumbelle. As someone who specializes in family and human rights law, it’s hard for me to watch because I feel like I’m watching one of my cases, particularly cases regarding Battered Women’s Syndrome where women are put through a cycle of abuse and affection that eventually leads to them snapping and killing their partners due to the constant fear that they feel. Granted, that didn’t happen on the show and I don’t think Adam & Eddy even have a clue what BWS is but it was the cycle that got me - the manipulation, the gaslighting and sometimes even trespass against the person via false imprisonment. (And yes, false imprisonment is categorized as trespass against the person in tort.) I constantly cringed while watching them mainly because it became clear many times that Rumple just doesn’t respect Belle’s autonomy and views her more as a coveted object than a partner.

Another is honestly…Kataang. I don’t find it abusive for the record or anything. And just a PSA out there for you, you CAN dislike a ship and not find it abusive, just saying. It’s more that I felt there wasn’t much chemistry for Aang and Katara. There was a serious maturity gap between them. I felt to me that Aang was always trying to hold on to his childhood and really not face issues unless they were pressing and he felt compelled too while Katara honestly acted more like an adult, which isn’t surprising considering the fact her mother died when she was young and she and Sokka were often left on their own because of the war. Katara really faced things head on and I feel like her actions towards Aang were more maternal than anything. @justanotherwannabeclassic and I have discussed this before but it feels like Katara was just a prize for Aang for saving the world and kinda lost her autonomy as person. She just became his girlfriend when she was a master fucking waterbender and I don’t think she would have been satisfied with just being a wife and mother, not that there is anything wrong with that but she’s very much into helping people and being a revolutionary - she was the fucking Painted Lady, c’mon now.

I could write an entire essay on these two and other ships but honestly this answer is long enough as is.

I’m gonna put my other answers under the cut because I have a lot of salt

10. Most disliked arc? Why?

Alana. Seriously. If I could, I would rewrite the entire Once Upon a Time show post-season three. There’s so many things I have an issue with in regard to OUAT but if I had to chose one and this is hard, but the entire Killian killed David’s Dad/Killian’s Realm Tour 2017. That story arc was bullshit, in fact most of season six was bullshit. Season five was also bullshit but I digress. Anyway, I think the whole issue of Killian killing Robert was fucking dumb and was just drama for drama’s sake because Adam and Eddy got lazy and apparently wrote the majority of their plots high, and not the good kind of high. Like the kinda high you get when you buy cheap ass marijuana from a sketchy street vender in Switzerland kinda high. That’s the minor beef I have with this arc, the main bit is the Emma moping and thinking Killian abandoned her nonsense. Girl, we just went through THREE SEASONS of crazy ass insanity where it was confirmed MANY times that Killian wasn’t ever going to leave her, loved her and would die like five hundred times for her. The fact that she immediately thought that he left instead of, maybe I don’t know, being kidnapped or hurt is just absurd to me. It’s fucking absurd.

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

Oh god, where to do I fucking begin. Number one, I would have had a fucking real overarching plot for OUAT and I would have totally reworked seasons four through seven with more original spins. One of the things that attracted me to the show in the first place was how they took characters like Snow White and Little Red Riding Hood and they turned them on their heads and made them bad ass and unique. That didn’t seem to happen much post-season three. I would have changed Elsa and Anna up a bit instead of making them carbon copies of their movie selves. It would be something making Elsa morally grey and a boss ass political bitch who gives Regina a run for her money and make Anna an absolute tomboy who have no interest in being a princess but would rather be a flower child and walk around in the woods all day bare foot and incredibly strong because all she does is climb trees. I love the idea of playing Elsa off as winter and Anna as a spring. Work with that. That would have been an interesting thing.

Also, I actually did not enjoy the author arc at all. I get the idea of playing around with the characters as inverse/opposites of their true natures but I just rolled my eyes a lot. I would have done an entirely different arc, maybe looked more at realm traveling or you know actually address whether people want to return to the Enchanted Forrest. Hell, I would have maybe even done something about the town line and whether the citizens of Storybrooke wanted to explore the outside world.

Dark Swan was a wasted opportunity in my opinion and they really missed a chance to make Emma actually do some really crazy shit and you know confront some of the issues that had been buried under the rug in the past few seasons but that’s not biggest issue actually. I had more issues with the Underworld as a Greek mythology buff than I did with Dark Swan but how they did the Dark Ones thing could have been so much better. But Underworld deserves more of my beef. *sigh* That, personally to me, was a wasted arc creatively. Don’t get me wrong, I cried like a bit at the elevator scene but I feel like they should have gone more Greek myth than Disney Hades. I think I’ve said before to @katie-dub that it would have been more interesting if Hades wasn’t so much of an antagonist but more of someone who misleads them into thinking that Killian is in the worst part of the Underworld while he really isn’t, he’s either on the Asphodel Meadows and doesn’t remember her or in Elysium where he’s completely at peace and taking him back would pose more of a moral question for Emma on whether or not she should.

We can all agree that seasons six is a train wreck right? I was a little annoyed at the timelines and the issues brought up in regard to Captain Swan. It seemed like they were issues that had been addressed or should have been addressed in previous seasons. I found the whole wedding thing super rushed. I would have been content if Captain Swan had more of background role drama-wise and maybe they actually used the wedding to really build on Emma and Snow’s relationship more because it had been strongly ignored. The Black Fairy was a wasted villain and Gideon wasn’t really necessary. Let’s be real, that final battle was a massive letdown and the last time I checked a TLK doesn’t save you from normal mortal wounding. I kinda wished they played around with the Untold Stories Thing a bit more in S6. I would have totally nixed the Wish Realm and the Musical Episode even though I liked the music. I just found a lot of their plots confusing, unnecessary and tired.

Okay, I didn’t watch a lot of season seven but I do have an issue with the recycling of plots and characters. I don’t mind Jacinda or Tilly/Alice but I found the whole recycle of Alice in Wonderland and Cinderella a sign that the creative well had run dry. I wish they had work with new material and stories such as the Labyrinth, Black Cauldron, Treasure Island, Atlantis or even fucking Enchanted. They could have also worked in on some of the legends from 1,001 Arabian Nights, worked more with Greek mythology particularly the Odyssey or the Argonauts. There’s a lot of creative things they could have done and just didn’t do. You’re welcome to like season seven and the characters it introduced but it just felt more like a money grab with incredibly lazy writing.

22. Popular character you hate?

I have a feeling a lot of people might unfollow me for this one but David Tennant’s Tenth Doctor. Like I’m sure not a lot of people have noticed this but I do not reblog anything with Ten in it. I know he’s everyone’s favorite and people love him and think he’s attractive but I actually hate his treatment of Rose, Martha and Donna as well as his weird space casanova act. I actually don’t really like Ten/Rose that much mainly because Ten doesn’t seem to have the same love and denotation for her that Nine did and was totally cool with leaving her and Mickey alone in a murder robot infested space in the 51st century to chase after Madame Pompadour. I don’t think the Ninth “I could save the world but lose you” Doctor would have done the whole “does it need saying?” and would have left Rose in Pete’s World with his clone without giving her a say. I was really irked by that. He whined about how much he missed Rose for TWO. WHOLE. FUCKING. SEASONS and when she came back, he’s like “here, have my clone and fuck off.” It bothered me so much and I think a lot of Rose hate is honestly based off Ten’s melodramatic ass and how he whined about missing Rose and made Martha feel inferior. Martha Jones was a fucking boss and didn’t deserve the shit he gave her. And then, we have Donna, poor Donna who didn’t get a choice at all in her fate. He chose it for her and that will never not bother me. Rose, Martha and Donna deserved more. End of story.

#asks #answered #starlessness #ro speaks #meme bullshit #salty asks #I AM A VERY SALTY PERSON #I'M NOT SORRY #personal

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hellostarlight20 · 7 years

Text

I Will...6/10

Ten x Rose Rated T Telepathy (telepathic marriage bond) Angst Fluffy laughter Not exactly a rewrite Dimension Hopping Rose JE fixit Happy ending! Beta’d by the ever fabulous MrsBertucci, without whom this chapter wouldn’t exist AO3 and TSP and on Tumblr Chapter 1 (the corrected!) 2, 3, 4, 5 Part of the The Adventures of Bad Wolf and the TARDIS…and their Doctor series

…find a way

“Mum and Pete are taking little Tony to Broadchurch this weekend,” Rose told him.

“You’re not going?” The Doctor asked, looking at her askance. “Where’s Broadchurch?”

“Little beach town in West Bay, Dorset.” Rose paused then rushed on. “I…I might go. There’s not much left to do at Torchwood with the canon, and Mickey—well, Micks convinced me that spending time with them while I can might be the best thing.”

The Doctor did his very best not to let his jealousy bleed through their link. He tried, really. He gave his success rate as maybe 68%. Rose didn’t hit him but she didn’t look at him, either. No, she kept her head on his chest, fingers running lightly through the hairs covering it.

“How’s his Gran?” He didn’t want to talk about Mickey Smith in their bedroom as they lay in bed, drowsy and content and naked, but they promised never to hold back, not to keep secrets while they were separated.

More than that, he knew something bothered Rose. The Doctor didn’t know if it was their separation, the lack of progress on the cannon, or loneliness.

The same loneliness that choked him and made him contemplate desperate things—like dismantling the dead Daleks in a 1930 New York sewer and using whatever he could from them to punch through the Void. They did it, they broke through and with a few tweaks he could as well. After all, he was far smarter than a Dalek.

He hadn’t. Well, all right, he had dismantled them. He’d taken them apart with cold precision and destroyed the cavern they’d used for their hideous experiments.

But he hadn’t punched through the Void.

The TARDIS somehow alerted Martha who lectured him on destroying the universe and demanded to speak to Rose. Not the first or last time that had happened. And Rose. His beloved, his hearts…

He held her tighter, his own grief and loneliness swelling through him.

Or maybe it was hers.

If asking after a beach trip or Mickey’s Gran helped Rose, then that’s what he’d do. He had to be there for her, even if it was to talk about vacation plans with the family and her best mate. Plans he couldn’t participate in.

“They moved into the mansion. Rita-Ann wasn’t too sure of that, she remembered this world’s Pete and Jackie and, of course, heard all the gossip. Everyone heard about Jackie’s death.” She paused and sighed, and the Doctor ran his fingers through her hair, hoping that small movement, the slight press of his fingers on her scalp, soothed her. “But Mickey convinced her. Best place for her. Best place for all of us. And it’s nice, having Mickey around.”

“So, Broadchurch, eh? Nice place?”

“So I hear. Sleepy little town, but it’ll be nice to get away.”

The Doctor kissed her and tugged her closer to him. He loved telepathic sex with Rose, but he missed touching her physical body as badly as he missed sharing their adventures.

“We’re heading to Cardiff,” the Doctor told her.

Rose rubbed her leg over his, head on his chest, and kissed the spot between his hearts. “Going to refill the TARDIS?”

“She deserves it. Doesn’t need it often, but after being powered down for the three months I hid from the Family and then being caught by the Angels when we were separated...” The Doctor shuddered and tightened his hold on her.

“Almost had to take out a mortgage,” Rose teased. But she kissed him gently and cupped his face. “Whatever would you have done?”

The Doctor caught her gaze and held her hand to his cheek. “Bad enough that flat had curtains.”

“Didn’t have carpets at least.” Rose lay her head back on his chest and held him tight. “And you had Martha. I’m glad she was with you—she’s good.”

“She’s a star, Martha Jones is.”

“Shame we can’t communicate through the watch anymore.” Rose sighed, though he didn’t feel her soft breath on his chest. The loss cut through him. “I miss being a part of your life.”

“You are my life.”

The Doctor swallowed and shuddered, pushing his loneliness and fear as far back into the screaming pit of darkness he carried with him. She didn’t need that. She needed him. His support, his love, his telling her of how he spent his day even if it was wandering through marketplaces with Martha looking for elusive TARDIS parts.

“I don’t need you two ganging up on me again!” He pulled her even closer. He’d give a regeneration for Rose to be in the same universe, galaxy, planet, TARDIS, room with him, she and Martha teasing him.

They were both right when they told him that his plan to evade the family wasn’t his best. Being with Rose in the watch greyed out a portion of their link; in a way it was fantastic, being with her all the time. As if they hadn’t been separated.

However it wasn’t the same, and him being John Smith had killed a lot of people and ruined an entire village. Not to mention how he’d hurt Joan Redfern. And Martha.

“It’s impossible now, without my mind in there. No way to connect the two of you.”

“No, I know. Still, it was nice having a friend…” Rose trailed off and the Doctor looked down at her.

She never talked about it, but then the Doctor knew everything that went on in Rose’s mind. She was lonely in the other universe. Achingly so. Not only because she missed him but because that world treated her like an interloper.

Half of Torchwood thought she was a vacuous daddy’s girl bleeding money from Pete—of course half of the UK thought she was a vacuous daddy’s girl who resurfaced as Pete Tyler’s daughter to bleed him of money.

It didn’t matter how smart she was or how uninterested in money she was. It didn’t matter she donated her Torchwood salary to President Harriet Jones’s charity, Feed the United Kingdom. It also didn’t matter that Jackie made a miraculous return from the dead and that she completely embraced Rose as their daughter. (A convoluted story the Vitex PR department had a hell of a time spinning.)

Other than the handful of dimension canon scientists and technicians assigned to work with her, ostensibly to study the feasibility of interdimensional travel and the impact on the environment, both Earth’s and the universe’s, Rose only spoke with Mickey and Jake. At least she had them, and for that the Doctor had never been more grateful to Mr. Mickey.

“How go the jumper calculations?” He asked, changing the subject.

Rose shrugged. “Still at a standstill. Not because it won’t work,” she amended and kissed where his right heart beat beneath her touch. “You and Mickey both agree on the calculations, which—” she raised her head and glared at him—“I never want to go through again. Had a migraine for a week, I did, having the pair of ya go back and forth on dimensional coordinates verses galactical verses Earth Prime.” She shuddered and scowled. “No, those pinpricks in the Void walls aren’t big enough.”

Neither said those pinpricks might never be big enough for her to jump through. Neither had to. They both knew the risks. For now, it didn’t matter. She’d been trapped a year there, already.

Not enough time for anyone to notice the changes in her. Not yet. But then he hadn’t even realized Bad Wolf changed her to begin with. It’d taken months and months; only after she and the TARDIS merged again to fly the ship to pre-Revolutionary France had either of them realized anything had changed in Rose.

“The TARDIS is still scanning,” he promised. And his amazing ship hummed insistently in his head, promising she was, in fact, looking hard for any way to reunite the three of them.

“I know.” Rose sniffed back tears and the Doctor moved just enough to cradle her face in his hands. To show her, as tenderly as possible, the depth of his love for her.

“Don’t cry, my hearts,” he begged. “Please don’t cry.”

“I miss you.” She looked up and grinned at the ceiling. “I miss you, too, darling.”

The TARDIS preened, but Rose’s voice broke and the Doctor couldn’t even roll his eyes at the pair of them. All he could do was blink back his own tears, his own grief, and hold his wife close.

Clung to her might’ve been a better descriptor.

“We won’t be in Cardiff long,” he told her, kissing her gently. “Any suggestions for our next trip?”

“Have you taken Martha to that asteroid bazar?” Rose wound her arms around his neck and slid her leg over his hip. The Doctor couldn’t feel her tears on his chest and hate that more than he loathed the fact she cried. Unable to say anything around the lump in his own throat, he held her closer. “The one with the eight-foot-tall troubadours in that anti-gravity well?”

“Herschel Asteroid.” He nodded in agreement.

“The one discovered by the first English female astronomer, yeah?”

“Yup!”

“Take her there. I think she’ll like it. Lots to see, good ice cream, too.”

They never made it to Herschel Asteroid. They didn’t even last long in Cardiff. The Doctor tried to joke about no one ever expecting Jack Harkness, but it fell flat.

“Hello again.” The Doctor frowned down at the body as Martha raced inside the TARDIS for the medical kit she insisted on keeping handy after a small (very slight) problem with Daivander Stinger Bugs which most definitely was not his fault! “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Here we go.” Martha pushed him out of the way and knelt beside Jack. “Get out of the way. It’s a bit odd, though. Not very hundred trillion. That coat’s more like World War Two.”

“I think he came with us,” he said and wondered how he could keep this from Rose.

She slept now, he had carefully calculated his and Martha’s trips so he could spend the maximum amount of time with Rose in their telepathic world. Rose needed her sleep, she pushed herself to develop the dimension cannon, and he was loathed to deprive her because he was lonely.

“How do you mean, from Earth?�� Martha squinted up at him.

“Friend of mine,” the Doctor was forced to admit. Martha frowned. “Used to travel with me, back in the old days.”

“With Rose?” Martha asked softly.

His gaze jerked from Jack’s body to her, though he really didn’t see Martha. He didn’t see this planet or Jack or even care. He saw the three of them, Team TARDIS Rose had called them. “Yeah. We—before. The other me—we traveled together.”

“Oh.” Martha nodded and the Doctor was suddenly relieved he’d told her about regeneration. Especially since Jack might or might not know about it, and either way this barren land wasn’t the place to describe what happened.

“But he’s—I’m sorry,” Martha whispered. “There’s no heartbeat. There’s nothing. He’s dead.”

Of course Jack wasn’t and when he woke up, he scared ten years off Martha. The Doctor, uncomfortable, sad, and desperately trying to figure out how to tell Rose, couldn’t even grin.

“Nice to meet you, Martha Jones.” Jack winked. The Doctor did roll his eyes then.

“Doctor.” Jack stood and helped Martha up as well.

“Captain.”

He tried not to watch Martha as he and Jack exchanged what could only be called forced polite hellos. Not even all that polite.

“Just got to ask. The Battle of Canary Wharf. I saw the list of the dead. It said Rose Tyler.”

His hearts squeezed and for a moment his world stopped. The Doctor frantically reached out for Rose, despite her slumber, and for a moment—a lifetime—held her close. “Oh, no! Sorry, she’s alive.”

Stunned, Jack’s façade fell and his smile bloomed. “You’re kidding!”

“Parallel world.” The words cut through him as surely as any sword. “Safe and sound. And Mickey, and her mother.”

“Oh, yes!” Jack hugged him and the Doctor let him. And for a moment, reveled in the lie. That he could find Rose any time he wanted to. That he could see her whenever the fancy took hold of him—

As simple as crossing a bridge.

“Wait a minute.” Jack pulled back and squinted at him.

“Yes,” Martha said and stood between them, allowing the Doctor distance and he seriously wanted to fall to her feet in gratitude. “Great reunion and all,” she interrupted. “But we’re a hundred trillion years in the future. Let’s explore, eh?”

It wasn’t until they were in the silo, with Jack in the radiation chamber that the Doctor admitted what he knew Jack wanted to know.

“You married her,” Jack said, stunned. “Even knowing—?”

“I—yeah.” He and Rose had only told Jackie about what Bad Wolf had done to her, how opening the Heart of the TARDIS and looking into the Vortex fundamentally altered her, increasing her longevity, her healing, her overall health.

Once it became clear to both of them he couldn’t pilot the TARDIS through the remaining gaps in the Void, Rose finally told Mickey who just nodded and shrugged. “Yeah, that don’t surprise me none,” he’d said and they returned to their cannon work.

“She’s not just in the other universe, Jack.” Each word chipped at what little composure he maintained outside his and Rose’s telepathic bedroom. He hadn’t been in their real, physical, bedroom since losing her. “I can’t reach her. The walls closed after the Time War and it was only because the Cybermen punched through that the gaps opened in the first place. She’s trapped there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Yeah. He was, too.

“What happened?” Jack asked, and his tone caught the Doctor. Lived through the entirety of the 20th century—yeah, Jack knew all about loss and loneliness. Grief. Even waiting a hundred years to see Rose again, Jack mourned her as if they met for tea only yesterday.

So, the Doctor told him—Bad Wolf, merging with the TARDIS, flying back to save him. Them.

“If you’re married…” Jack let the sentence trail off. “Oh. I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Yeah.” He repeated. “How could I say no to her?” the Doctor whispered. “She was everything to me.” He sniffed, looked away from Jack. “Still is.”

And then all hell broke loose.

The Doctor grabbed Jack’s wrist and flicked through the sonic’s settings as quickly as possible. They needed to leave this place before either the riot reached them, the atmospheric shell dissolved, or the Master decided not to take any chances and return to kill him anyway. Freezing the TARDIS’s controls wouldn’t last long, not on another Time Lord, but the Doctor knew his beloved ship wouldn’t let someone like the Master break into her systems.

They landed hard, with Rose screaming in his head and that sickening feeling of transporting through the Vortex minus a TARDIS making him dizzy. Rose railed at him, fists beating against his chest for not only lying to her about Jack but about her part in his change.

“My hearts.” He grabbed her hands and held her close as she spat at him, tears streaking her beautiful face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

“There’s no excuse, Doctor,” she said, hard and flat and too silent for anything other than furious anger. “You lied to me after promising me never to do so. After telling me that sharing a bond opened up everything you were to another.”

“I—yes. I did. You’re right, there’s no excuse.” He took a breath, though that did nothing but allow him to taste the air. “I buried it deep, far too deep for you to find, and I did it on purpose.” Jaw clenched, he met her gaze. “And I did it because I’m a coward. I ran from Jack because he’s wrong, time-wise, yes, but you’re right. I could’ve returned.”

“Why didn’t you?” she demanded. “Any time you could’ve said, we traveled for months together before we found out about Bad Wolf—and then for a year or so after that! WHY?”

He ran his hand through is hair—now wasn’t the time for this conversation and he knew it, but he’d lied to his wife, his bond mate.

“I was afraid!” he shouted, more at himself than her. “I’d kept it from you for so long and then I didn’t know how to tell you. I was terrified you’d—” he cut himself off.

Rose crossed her arms over her chest. “That I’d what?”

“That you wouldn’t forgive me for being more concerned over you, over keeping you safe. I was regenerating, Rose, and you’d just looked into the Heart of the TARDIS. Forgive me for being more concerned for you than Jack.”

“And later?”

He swallowed and closed his eyes, the weight of his lies caving his chest inward. “I didn’t know how to tell you. Even when I promised never to keep anything from you, you believed me because it was the truth. By then—by then,” he said softer, “I’d buried Jack and what happened to him so far back I meant every word.”

“The TARDIS is chiming in my head.” She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. Pulling back, Rose kissed him fiercely, hungrily. “We are by no means finished with his, mister.” She pecked his lips and stepped out of his arms. “But do what you need to do to stop the Master.”

“I love you, my hearts.”

Rose nodded. “I know. I love you, too, Doctor, even when I’m furious with you.”

The Doctor opened his eyes and found himself on a street with Jack and Martha—no. Martha wasn’t there.

“Where is she?” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” Jack admitted, looking pale and worried. “The Vortex Manipulators work on multiple people when everyone is holding on, and I know she was.”

The Doctor felt sick—if Martha let go, she could be floating in the Vortex. He had no way of tracking her, no way of finding her if she was lost.

“She’s all right, Doctor.”

“Rose?”

“She’s in the TARDIS. We’ll look after her.”

“Rose says Martha is in the TARDIS.” He looked at Jack, who looked confusedly intrigued, and shrugged. “At least she’s safe.”

#ficandchips #Ten x Rose #telepathy #romance #Martha Jones #Jack Harkness

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