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qobiin · 5 years

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when i fill them, they’ll shine forever | ch 1

pairing: todobakudeku (bakugou x midoriya x todoroki)

genre: fluff, angst | abo au, growing up au, canon-compliant

warnings: swearing, trans male character, mentioned instances of transphobia, coming out, gender dysphoria

word count: 3152

summary: Katsuki being an omega from birth changes a few things.

day four of @bnhaomegaverseweek (hoping my love will keep you up tonight)

chapter one of when i fill them, they’ll shine forever

“Wow, Kacchan, your quirk is so cool! I hope my quirk will be as awesome as yours!”

Katsuki keeps her gaze forward, a wide grin spread across her face as Deku allows her to lead. It’s not often that people let her lead, unfortunately. How she longs for the chance though! She would show everyone a thing or two about proper leadership. But she is an omega and none of the alphas at school would ever let her take control. No matter how capable she’s proven herself to be, no matter how much stronger and cooler her quirk is than anybody else’s.

Well, none of the alphas except for Deku. He always lets her.

Her alpha always lets her do what she wants. He has never held her back and has never Ordered her around. She has always been the one to take charge between them and he never gets mad at her for it. In fact, if she didn’t know any better, she would say that he wants her to be the one in charge.

She tightens her hold on the large net in her hands and strides forward confidently. “I’m sure it will be, Deku!”

Of course, neither of them know that they’ll be wrong, but they continue onward anyway, smiling as if nothing could ever disrupt the dreams they have built up around each other.

Katsuki has known Deku as long as she has known her own parents.

He’s been a constant in her life for as long as she remembers. Her mom likes showing off the multitude of photos of them in the bathtub when they were babies. Katsuki would probably find it embarrassing if she didn’t still take baths with Deku now. The collection only continues to grow to her dismay, but Katsuki doesn’t say anything.

She doesn’t mind it. Not too much anyway. Deku is her mate and her alpha after all. He likes bathtime with her, so she doesn’t complain.

Even if she feels weird whenever she notices that the bottom half of their bodies aren’t the same, she keeps her feelings and words to herself. It’s something she’s actually quite good at.

Of course, she does explode at school. A mess of curses and bloody fists as she fights all those that try and hurt her alpha or any of the other quirkless kids in their class, but that’s a given.

No one hurts her alpha. No one is allowed to hurt her mate.

She still remembers when they both knew they were mates because it was Deku’s third birthday and when she came over for his party, their eyes met and glowed gold. She couldn’t forget the way the light glimmered on his face and made his freckles stand out so much. She swore to herself after that no one was allowed to hurt what was hers.

Heroes are supposed to protect those that can’t protect themselves and she wants to be a hero.

And she’ll be one. With a quirk like hers, with an alpha that lets her do what she wants, she can do it. She’ll surpass All Might and be number one. Deku will be her support or maybe he’ll take up her offers on training together and become a hero himself. It doesn’t matter if he’s quirkless.

They can do it.

They can do anything if they're together.

“You’re just a useless Deku! You’ll never be a hero if you’re quirkless!”

“Who the fuck are you calling useless, you piece of shit!” Katsuki yells, running forward to pin the beta to the wall.

Deku still stands where he was before, pressed against the other wall and trying to look as small as possible. Katsuki has told him over and over again that the bullies will leave him alone if he fights back just once. Just one punch, one shove back, one mean word in their direction to make them back off. Katsuki can’t be the only one holding off bullies for the rest of their lives after all. But she knows he won’t do it.

He’s too nice, too kind. Too soft and forgiving for any of the crap he gets. And he deserves none of the venomous words spat his way. Katsuki is more than sure of that.

She hates the fear that is wafting off her alpha in waves. It makes her hackles rise and something primal in her howl for blood, to protect, to defend. She shakes the beta in her hold and lets him fall to the floor unceremoniously when he nearly pisses his pants. She knows just how scary she can be when she wants to be, especially thanks to her explosive quirk. People know better than to go after Deku when she’s around, but sometimes, there are the stupid shitheads like this beta. The ones who think they have any fucking right to tell her alpha what to do.

The way Katsuki sees it, if she isn’t allowed to push Deku around, then no one is.

“Don’t talk to my alpha ever again or I’ll make you fucking regret it!” Katsuki yells at the beta’s retreating back, glaring at him and all those around them that stood by and did absolutely nothing, the spineless bastards. “What are you shitty extras looking at!”

The other kids scatter, spooked and terrified of her anger. Katsuki watches them go then turns and takes Deku’s hand. She coaxes him away from the wall, gentle only for him, and leads him down the hall until they enter the playground. They’re both silent as they walk, but Katsuki doesn’t let it remain that way for long.

“Why do you let them treat you like that?” Katsuki asks once they have reached their tree near the edge of the schoolyard. “You know I don’t like it.”

Deku shakes his head and sits between the tree roots, his feet laid out in front of him. “I don’t know. I just freeze up every time it happens.”

Katsuki wants to say something. Deku looks so small at this moment, so lost, and all she wants to do is vow to always look after her alpha, but it wouldn’t be appropriate. She’s an omega and she knows that Deku would never get angry at her for this, but it just isn’t her place. It’s not.

No matter how much she wishes it was.

So she sits beside him instead and stays silent until Deku asks, “I’m not that great at protecting myself, but… You’ll protect me, right Kacchan?”

Katsuki sniffs, trying not to let her pleasure bleed through. “Do you want me to?”

“Always,” is Deku’s solemn answer.

“Then,” Katsuki begins with a grin that slowly grows until it is spread wide across her face, “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to hurt you, Deku!”

She pumps her fist into the air to show she’s serious and has to fight back a laugh when Deku smiles at her. It’s her favorite smile, the one he reserves solely for her and her alone. It’s sweet and cute and always makes Katsuki a little nervous to look at, but she keeps his gaze anyway and startles when he leans in.

Deku’s lips are soft on her cheek and only stay there for a moment before he pulls back. She presses a hand to her face and feels it warm underneath her touch. Katsuki hopes she isn’t blushing tomato red like Deku sometimes does. That would be embarrassing and Katsuki doesn’t do embarrassing.

They continue on like normal, but for the rest of the day, Katsuki catches herself subconsciously raising a hand towards the cheek Deku kissed.

Katsuki holds still as Deku rubs his face into her neck.

He has started to scent her every time they come back from school. The first time, she had held so still she barely thought to breathe before he abruptly pulled away and reminded her.

She knows that the scenting is a form of comfort. That it’s to make his scent lay heavy on her, to drive away other alphas and betas that might be interested. She learned that much from her father when Deku turned six and said he was surprised that Deku hadn’t tried scenting her earlier. She knows what it’s for and that it’s to reassure Deku, but she can’t help but feel uncomfortable.

Because it leaves Deku smelling of her in return, which normally she wouldn’t mind, but she doesn’t like the way she smells.

Her scent is too floral, too sweet and sugary and makes her insides twist into knots. It makes her want to bury herself in Deku’s scent instead, but that wouldn’t help much.

And, of course, Deku notices how stiff she is, how she forces herself not to react when he scents her. He isn’t stupid. Her alpha is one of the smartest people she knows. How else would he be able to remember so much about heroes and their quirks?

So Deku asks if he can scent her. He always asks and if she hesitates for too long, he steps back and gives her space. He never crowds her and he never tries to force anything. He is always so good to her, even when she feels like she doesn’t deserve it.

Something in her twists and coils at the barest hint of her scent. On some days, she feels sick just being in her body and having to smell herself every second of the day.

She starts showering a lot more often than what is necessary and sprays her father’s cologne on herself in the mornings. It calms her, more than she ever realized.

Deku doesn’t comment on it. He doesn’t press her for answers or asks questions. He simply accepts it as a new part of her and smiles every time she allows him to scent her.

It doesn’t solve everything for her, but it helps. It helps her start to feel comfortable in her own body again and that’s what matters.

When Katsuki is seven, he knows.

He knows and no wonder he has never felt right. No wonder he hates his natural scent and his stupid long hair.

No wonder he hates his body so much.

It’s the wrong one.

He was born in the wrong kind of body.

A few weeks after his eighth birthday, he tells Deku.

It has been eating away at him, his alpha not knowing. Deku knows everything about him. Katsuki has never held a secret from him. His alpha has always been his sole confidant. Always.

And it’s about time he tells him. For his own sanity at least. Maybe it will help or maybe it will not, but Katsuki won’t know until he tries.

“I’m not a girl,” Katsuki murmurs, for once on the verge of tears as he admits his darkest secret to his alpha. “I’m not.”

Deku stares at him, confusion on every line of his face. “Then what are you?”

“A boy.”

Deku nods but says nothing. Instead, he taps his fingers on his chin and studies Katsuki like this is the first time he has ever seen him.

(And well, it’s not like that analogy is wrong.)

“I’m sorry.”

Deku frowns, his confusion growing. “What for?”

Katsuki hates the fact that his alpha is acting so dense. Of course, he has to know what for! Deku is one of the smartest people he knows. He knows Deku knows what he’s talking about.

It’s clear though that Deku is waiting for him to say it. For him to lay it all out there and open up for once.

He groans and rubs a hand through his hair, his fingers twisting into the ends of it now that it is a lot shorter than before. “Because we’re mates and you wanted a fucking girl as your mate, right? And I had to go and fucking ruin shit by being born in the stupid, wrong body.”

Deku’s expression cycles through a myriad of emotions. First anger, then confusion again, then irritation, and then a steady calm that does absolutely fucking nothing to settle Katsuki’s nerves.

“Kacchan, I want you,” Deku finally says.

Katsuki feels his head snap up in surprise, meeting his alpha’s gaze without meaning to. Deku doesn’t falter, doesn’t let any hesitation or uncertainty slip into his voice as he continues and in the back of his head, Katsuki is grateful for it.

“You can be whoever or whatever you want to be. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Especially not me, Kacchan,” Deku says, reaching out and taking Katsuki’s hands in his own. “I’m not in charge of your body. You are.”

“But, you’re my alpha. You have the right to tell me what to fucking do!”

Deku steps closer. “I am. I am your alpha and I will always be your alpha if you want me to be. But it’s not my place to tell you what to do. I would like to go our whole lives without Ordering you. You make your own decisions for yourself, Kacchan. That isn’t mine to take away from you. It wouldn’t make me a very good alpha and I want to be the best alpha for you.”

Shit, he really is going to cry, isn’t he? Fuck.

“I want to be the best alpha for the best version of you, whatever or whoever that might be. I’m not going to take your free will away, not ever,” Deku continues, his stupid green eyes already overflowing with tears. “You deserve the best kind of alpha, Kacchan.”

Katsuki buries his face in Deku’s shoulder and tries to stifle his sobs, but ultimately fails.

Later, once Katsuki is sure there is no trace of his stupid tears, he pulls away from Deku’s embrace.

Deku watches him warily, waiting to see if it really is the end of their crying fit. Or Katsuki’s crying fit, at least. Deku never really seems to run out of tears. He has always been a huge crybaby and that alone would irritate Katsuki if he was any other person, but Deku is Deku and Katsuki doesn’t have it in him to find his alpha annoying or irritating.

At least, not usually anyway.

“Do you want to tell Auntie and Uncle?” Deku asks, his voice still warbled by tears.

Katsuki stomps down the heart-wrenching fear that question brings with it and makes sure his voice is steady when he says, “I don’t know how they’ll react.”

“They’ll support you,” Deku says without missing a beat. “They love you.”

“They love their daughter,” Katsuki hisses, unable to stop his voice from shaking and cracking in multiple places as he does.

Deku’s face is still wet with tears, but his voice doesn’t waver and neither does his resolve. “No. They love you, Kacchan.”

Shit. He just finished crying too. Fucking hell.

Katsuki ends up telling his parents.

They don’t make a big deal out of it and they don’t disown him like he feared they would. Instead, his father goes out and gets him a boy’s uniform for school. Katsuki is wary but wears it anyway.

The first day he goes to school in it, people stare at him. Sometimes it looks like his teachers are going to point it out and say something, but for the most part, people are quiet. They don’t say anything to his face yet that doesn’t mean they don’t say anything at all.

Which is something he quickly learns when Deku gets suspended from school for fighting.

Katsuki storms into his apartment afterschool - spares a moment to politely greet Auntie Inko - and then barges into Deku’s room where he is lying on his bed.

“Who the fuck did you fight?” Katsuki spits out.

Deku sits up slowly, surprised to see him. “Oh! Kacchan, I didn’t think you’d hear about that so soon.”

“Of course, I fucking heard about it! It’s all anyone wants to talk about at school. The stupid extras wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone, asking why you did it and a whole bunch of other shit.”

Deku hums, like that in itself can be an answer, but Katsuki steps forward and jabs his finger into his alpha’s chest. “So why the fuck did you do it, huh? Did you finally snap?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Deku replies, his head tilted to the side as if this entire conversation is difficult. “I mean, I sort of did?”

Katsuki growls, “What made you snap? You’re full of fucking rainbows and sunshine and other mushy shit. What pissed you off so bad you finally fought back?”

“Do you really want to know?” Deku asks, oddly serious.

“Yes! I wouldn’t be fucking asking otherwise!”

Deku smiles at him, like what he just said was hilarious. The little shit. Katsuki exhales and fights the urge to tackle his alpha. He knows how well that would work out and he doesn’t want to be pinned down right now.

Something in him tells him he is going to need space after Deku finally fucking answers him.

“Someone pointed out your uniform and said some things I don’t want to repeat.”

Katsuki freezes, his breath caught in his throat. “What the fuck.”

Deku shrugs. “I know that I’m a pushover most of the time, but something in me didn’t like the way that other alpha talked about you and before I knew it, I had kicked him in the face.”

“What the fuck,” Katsuki repeats.

“Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but I’m your alpha and I know I don’t really act as an alpha should, but you’re my mate. You’re mine and no one gets to say the kind of stuff about you. Especially not in front of me,” Deku says, his eyes darkening for a moment before he exhales and his usual bright smile greets a stunned Katsuki. “I know you don’t like it when others help you. I’m sorry, but I won’t hesitate to do it again.”

Katsuki watches him, confused and pissed off, but pleased too. Way too pleased actually. Pleased enough to not act on his anger, to not go after that alpha himself, to not fight his own alpha. Beyond the pleasing feeling is something else much more fragile and shy swooping low in his belly.

He just fucking fell in love right now, didn’t he? Is that what the swooping feeling is? Did it really take Deku finally getting violent for Katsuki to admit this to himself? Fucking hell. And fucking Deku and his stupid, gigantic, good heart too! His stupid gentleness and understanding and unfalteringly support. Deku’s dumbass bright smile, the scattered freckles on his face and the way the stupid fucking sun hits his eyes sometimes. Shit.

“You’re an idiot, Deku,” Katsuki finally manages to spit out.

Deku only smiles, his stance beginning to relax as he does. “Yeah. I know.”

a/n: if you’re interested about how this is all coming together, check out my #progress-report tag (:

thanks for reading! please remember that my requests are open

#bnhaomegaverseweek #todobakudeku #bakudeku #todobaku #tododeku #bakugou x midoriya x todoroki #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #chaptered #f:bnha #g:fluff #g:angst #t:chaptered #p:ot3 #p:bakugou/midoriya/todoroki #wifttsf #s:hmlwkyut #m: fic

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colorofmymindposts · 5 years

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Hope for the Stars

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairings: Twelfth Doctor/Missy

Warnings: Major Character Death, Alternate Ending to series 10, Major Canon Divergence, Description of a Corpse

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Status: Complete but part three of my The Doctor Falls series. Reading part one is pretty optional but I definitely recommend checking out part two before reading this.

Word Count: 2134

Chapter: 1/2.

Summary: A final goodbye between the oldest friends in the universe seems as though it's the last chapter. But with the Doctor, every end comes with a beginning.

Tags: Heavy Angst, Messy Feelings, Coping with Death, Funeral, Grieving Missy, Twelve is very dead

I don’t know if the tagging system is still messed up, but you can read this work on ao3 under my username colorofmymind! Kudos and comments will be much appreciated!

The silence is deafening, save for the intermittent low hums of the TARDIS. Her hands drift and glide over the console as she circles round it, making no effort to start for any destination. A destination would require a plan. Missy has none.

What was the original plan, exactly? Redeem herself in everyone’s eyes, and then? No more tentative friendship. Renew their pact. Midnight, with the stars and him. It had been absolutely too vague, almost totally meaningless. And yet it was something. Now, there is nothing, no friend, without hope, without witness.

“Without reward, indeed,” Missy chokes out, voice hoarse from disuse and grief, realizing now she never precisely knew what that meant until this moment. Her death at least would have allowed her to escape from the shallow, crude reality of it all. Missy makes the mistake of looking down at the Doctor’s lifeless body. The sight alone is enough for her hands to tremor, knees to buckle, eyes to water and weep openly, now that the privacy allows for it. It takes much more time than she’d like to find the lapels of his jacket, fisting them in her hands for purchase. It doesn’t do much other than prevent her from strangling him, or herself.

“You absolute imbecile!” she cries out, venom behind each word. “I would have stayed here, the Vault, anywhere you would have liked for the rest of those thousand years! Two thousand even. You’d be there at least. You’d be alive.

But we were always so impatient, weren’t we? We couldn’t keep to the confines of Gallifrey or the Vault. We just wanted the universe. I wanted you.” Those last three words fall out her mouth without her permission, and she knows full well what she communicated with them. The humans always wait, desperate for that confession, that one word: love. There isn’t even a comparable translation for it in Gallifreyan; what is the need of such a word to Time Lords? Time Lords are supposed to have two hearts that are full of nothing.

She wants to rip her hearts right out of her chest, stamp them into mincemeat under her boots, and wail with the confidence and indignity of a newborn babe until she keels over. Or maybe she could cut her hearts out, carefully, scientifically, and transplant them into the Doctor, make him breathe, live again; he could cry over her body, but at least that’d be familiar for the both of them.

Death is for other people, dear. Missy said that, once. She never dreamt that the Doctor would number among the others.

The grip she has on him slackens. With complete gracelessness and depravity, Missy collapses on top of him, her chest on his, face burying into the crook of his neck. The endless propulsion of loss and guilt wracks her body; the tears flow out as quickly as the notes to Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 20 in D minor K. 466 - 1. Allegro, one of the Doctor’s favorites that she used to play on the piano. The piano he gifted to her. Missy cannot form words even if she tries. So heavy is this sense of finality, and she’s drowning under it. Her friend is dead. Time levels and undulates and then ceases to be around them, and all Missy is aware of is the uncontrollable shaking and the gasping and crying like she’s being gutted from the inside out for existing at all and the fact that he’s gone, gone, gone forever and she’s the only one left...

It’s some time later that Missy finally awakens next to the Doctor, colder than he’s ever been. It’s not really him, she reminds herself. His essence, the playful and wonderful mind, they’re gone. Could she reclaim them, she would. She should, really. It’s the least she can do when this whole monumentally stupid test to prove herself was the very reason they had found themselves in that disaster, created by her former self, no less. Resurrection has its risks though, this she knows. The potential for a miscalculation or chemical imbalance is extremely high, and his entire body could irrevocably malform; of course the safer alternative, transferring the consciousness into a living host, is something the Doctor would have never even entertained whereas the Master had, ever so frequently when in a tight spot, regrettable now in retrospect.

The stinging pain in her back and abdomen from the Laser Screwdriver has lessened slightly with her rest, but her eyes feel terribly sore and dry from what was probably the greatest lapse into emotional breakdown of her life. There are no more tears to cry, now. Missy picks herself up, squeezing the Doctor’s hand before standing only to find it has become extremely stiff with the onset of rigor mortis. The realization leaves her nauseous and quite wishing she hadn’t done that.

That does bring up the present dilemma. What to do with his body. A Time Lord’s body, particularly the DNA, would be a precious asset to almost any alien species. Burial and cryogenic freezing are right out then. The Doctor will have to burn.

Somehow, she still manages to hobble over to the TARDIS console with that thought on her mind, pulling on the levers and buttons by mere muscle memory. Already, Missy has the perfect idea for the location for the Doctor’s funeral, a strange thing to be sentimental about, but if he were still part of the universe, she thinks he would appreciate it.

“I’m almost certain you never prepared for this, my dear,” Missy begins, completely aware that the Doctor can no longer hear or respond to her. “I’m not talking about death, no, you practically begged for it when you were feeling particularly morose. What comes after is what I mean. Did you really think you could lie on a battlefield and that just be the end? It should take no more than a few centuries for a human exploratory crew or some other ship to find you with all your DNA and unleash terror on the universe. That just won’t do, not when you’ve put so much work into the place.”

The whole monologue was meant to calm her down, but she’s made an all too rational point. This is a universe without the Doctor, and it has been such a very long time since that was the reality. What will happen now, without that man roaming the stars, trying to bring kindness and goodness to the places and people he visits? As flawed as he could be while doing it, a small voice inside her offers.

“Because one day everyone's just going to need you too much.” Bill was right. The universe will never survive without the Doctor.

The TARDIS hums somewhat admonishingly, and suddenly the psychic link is made between her and the ship, and a flurry of images and memories are the sole occupiers of her thoughts: the TARDIS landing unannounced and needing help for some unknown reason, Missy’s constant maintenance of the TARDIS, Missy trying to find a way out of the TARDIS doors to help the Doctor and his companions when he was about to sacrifice himself to the Cairn gate, and the moment she stepped out of those same doors declaring confidently “Hello I’m Doctor Who.”

Oh. Oh.

Missy smiles and tuts quietly at the now reicent sentient machine. Being, she corrects herself mentally. After, she and this Type 40 are going to have to get along if this is to work.

“You knew well before any of us, didn’t you? Oh, you clever girl,” she purrs.

The ship creaks and groans upon arriving to their destination. In all fairness, this is the most hectic point in time and space besides the literal end of the universe, and Missy’s been there before. Placing the stabilizers on as a precaution, Missy retreats down one of the corridors, hoping she’ll find what she’s looking for.

“Ah, there you are,” she says upon finding it. The casket’s exterior shines just as brightly as the wood from whence it came: the silver trees of Gallifrey. Adorning the side panels are the traditional Gallifreyan rites for the deceased. Measurements in this case are not necessary; Time Lord technology has once again thought ahead to accomodate for any particular regeneration--the dimensions are bigger on the inside. It’s a difficult task for someone of her stature and injured status to not drag the damned thing on the console flooring, but she manages it for the Doctor’s sake alone.

Upon placing the casket next to him, however, she cannot seem to find the strength in the moment to lift him into it and send him away for good. A hand of hers secures itself on one of the handles on the console to ascertain that she does not collapse again.

“Well, this is it then. Me, Missy, your oldest friend, assisting you with your death. Goodbye, effectively for the two of us. What am I even saying,” she finishes under her breath, beginning the process of lifting the Doctor’s body into the casket. For appearances’ sake, she brushes off the lingering dust and debris off his coat and trousers and face, though it won’t matter for much longer. No one else besides her will be viewing him, and he’ll be crisper in just a few minutes than she ever was back in the old days. From underneath the console, Missy locates four hover discs, placing one at each end of the casket to ensure his departure is as seamless as possible. For some inexplicable reason, she is unable to close the casket lid. There is something she must say first.

“We made a pact once, you and I. We were going to see the stars together and abandon all the trivial troubles of Gallifrey. But something went wrong in the plans. We went on separate paths. Well, you went on your own path, and I followed you. I followed you everywhere I could,” Missy confesses, tangling her fingers in her Doctor’s curls. “In some ways, I wish...I wish I hadn’t woken up from that shot, the one I should have died from. We both could have been dead martyrs together. Wouldn’t that have been nice? But I understand now why I couldn’t...join you. I never got the chance to, did I?” Her voice escapes her for several moments, and she blinks away the forthcoming tears she previously didn’t know she still had.

“Standing with you...was all I ever wanted, too. Thank you, Doctor, for trying. It worked. I am standing for something now, after this and evermore, and I’m sure it will kill me someday, for good.” Missy pauses to collect herself. If she’s giving him a closing testimony she’s making sure it’s a damn good one.

“This is the last chance you have to announce you’ve miraculously survived before I send you off into Dante’s Inferno, just so you know.” The silence that follows is answer enough to her request.

“It actually isn’t Dante’s Inferno. That place isn’t real. You wanted the stars, so I brought you to them. Every single one.”

In a few quick steps, Missy is able to pull the doors open, revealing that they have indeed reached the intended destination. Gas clouds are just beginning to circulate and weave their ways, nebulas are brewing stars within their wombs, and galaxies expand their territory among the vast devoidness of empty space. The constellation of Kasterborous is just a few hundred million light-years away from forming.

“It isn’t the moment, not the singularity that started it all. Although, it’s reasonable enough to presume you’ve already been there. We’ve entered the structure formation period of the Big Bang, when stars began existing,” she explains.

“No star ever existed before this point or would be able to exist without this moment. Your casket will fly into one of those stars and burn with its light and passion, and your atoms be dispersed all around the universe and help bring life to all of creation. I think without a doubt this is the best surprise party I’ve ever thrown for you,” Missy claims, placing her hands on her hips with a certain sense of self-satisfaction in this truly bizarre and dizzying ceremony.

The casket hovers just by the TARDIS doors. All she has to do is guide it out, and discs will direct it over to that red dwarf star, his final resting place. With a certain solemnity and poise Missy has never reserved for anyone in her lives, she seals the casket shut.

In a whisper, hushed so only the infant forces of the universe behind the two of them can hear, she gives the Doctor her final farewell.

“Goodnight, my dear friend.”

#my writing #fanfiction #twissy #thoschei #space spouses #best enemies #missy #the master #gomez!master #twelfth doctor #the doctor #doctor who

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