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nats-firefly · 8 months

Text

look what you made me do

dark!sorority!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: she did this for you

warnings: dark fic, mentions of blood, murder, toxic behavior, stalking, power bottom!nat, strap on use, slapping, scratching, possessiveness, smut 18+

a/n: another repost, this is required reading (she's making a comeback ladies (gn))

🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩

words: 4k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

Natasha Romanoff wouldn’t call herself a possessive person. She was never one to hold on to things for a long time, or really care about them sticking around.

Until you came around.

From the second you saw Natasha you were hooked. Her smug grin and carefree snarky attitude immediately lured you in. You’d never wanted anyone else so bad in your life, and the redhead never felt so wanted. But the feeling of wanting and being wanted was not one Natasha was familiar with. The fight between wanting to keep you to herself and her detached personality an everyday battle.

She managed it, upheld the same rules she kept with every one else with you, even though everything in her wanted to break them. Don’t spend the night, don’t let them leave a mark, don’t chase, and most important of all leave them wanting more. She was almost as obsessed with how many people chased after her than with herself. Then you came along and threatened to change that.

She didn’t understand what it was about you. Maybe it was the way you would look for her whenever you had class together, or how if you bumped into her on campus you’d always offer to go for coffee. And that one time Natasha was cold and you offered her your jacket, that was a day she would never forget.

It was early spring and the day looked deceptively warm outside Natasha’s window. The sheer tights, miniskirt, and long sleeve in her closet almost screaming at her to be worn. It wasn’t until she was halfway across campus that she realized those were not enough layers. As if that wasn’t enough of a start to her day, some freshman on a bike almost bumped right into her, the close call sending her into the bushes and making her tights snag on the small twigs.

“Shit,” She muttered under her breath.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” She heard your voice before she felt your hand on her lower back, her cheeks involuntarily reddening. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” She reached down to where her tights were snagged, but couldn’t quite reach.

“I got it-”

“No you have to be careful, it will rip.”

“Yeah, Natasha, I got it, now stop moving,” You hand grabbed onto her thigh, the gesture somehow more intimate that any other moment you’d spent together between hickeys and clothes falling to the floor. “There you go, good as new.”

She noticed the way you stopped yourself from kissing where the twig had been. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Natasha bit her lip as she looked up at you fighting the urge to connect your lips. She had class to attend. You were just a tardy waiting to happen. “Wanna grab coffee?”

“I-” A wind blew past the two of you, making Natasha’s words falter as goosebumps rose to her skin. “I have class.”

“Do you want my jacket?” Your question was so unexpected she didn’t even have the chance to protest before you were draping the material over her shoulders. “I’ll see you later, Nat.”

And with a kiss on the cheek you were gone and Natasha Romanoff has never been the same. Ever since she revelled in the attention you gave her, got drunk on your compliments and breathed your admiration every time you were around. She couldn’t let something so sweet get away from her.

You only wished she’d tell you. Ever time it seemed like you were one step closer to her she would take twenty steps away. You weren’t exactly fond of it but Natasha was worth playing games for. You’d be her pawn for as long as she wanted.

She couldn’t help the way her head picked up from the book she was reading in a far away corner of the library when she heard your laugh. Natasha didn’t like the way she couldn’t control the smile threatening her lips, but it quickly faded when her eyes zeroed in on where this girl - is that fucking Gen? - you were with was touching you. It was just a friendly touch on your arm but it still made the redhead sick to her stomach.

You didn’t notice her, too focused on trying to finish the project you were working on with your assigned partner Gen. The project was due the following week and the two of you had procrastinated long enough. Natasha watched you the whole time. She changed where she was sitting to behind the two of you after she had finished her work, not wanting to risk any chances of you looking up and seeing her.

It wasn’t until the sun had set and the library was closing that you and your partner got up to leave. Natasha was already upset, watching you like a hawk. It wasn’t until you opened your mouth that she got mad.

“Do you wanna grab coffee?” She heard your voice in the distance, making her stop in her tracks. She held her arms close to her body trying to keep herself from pacing.

“It’s late, I probably shouldn’t,” She said, starting to walk away from the library. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Another touch to your arm and Natasha was on her way towards you, almost fuming. Nobody gets to touch what’s hers.

“Y/N, hey,” Her voice had no traces of anger, her hands slid up your arm to your shoulder as you turned to her, her fingers stroking the back of your neck. You smiled down at her, your hand instinctively reaching down to her waist and pulling her closer.

“Hi Nat,” You answered. She almost purred with your hands on her. “What are you still doing on this part of campus so late?”

“I was just working late,” She said, pointing her head towards the library you were just in. “Do you wanna grab coffee?”

“I’d love to,” You said, then pulled her closer, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I have really good coffee at my place.”

“That’s funny, I was just gonna suggest we go there anyway,” She laughed, an airy gasp leaving her lips when yours touched just below her earlobe. “Do you invite all the girls you meet to your place?”

“Only the pretty ones,” You joked, pulling away from her and taking her hand. She slyly let go of it, walking alongside you in the direction to your apartment building. You lived a short walk away from campus, the whole time the two of you walked, Natasha though about all the other places Gen might have touched. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” She said, her arms snaking around yours. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin. “What were you doing in the library so late?”

“Working on a project,” You answered, walking up to your building door. Natasha noticed how you failed to mention the girl. It meant you had something to hide. In reality you knew how Natasha got sometimes when you hung out with other people. You thought it was hot, you just didn’t want her to bother poor Gen. They were in the same sorority after all. And last time she saw you with another girl from her sorority she kicked her out, you never saw her again.

Natasha nodded her head, following you into the building silently watching your movements. When the two of you stepped into the elevator it wasn’t long until the redhead was pressed against the wall with your head buried in her neck. Her hands gripped your shirt while she pressed herself closer to you, only pushing you away when she felt you sucking a little too harshly.

She turned to the mirror, examining her neck and seeing a deep red fading. “What the fuck, Y/N, you know I don’t like that.”

“Right, you only like being associated with me when it’s convenient to you, must’ve forgotten.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, turning around. The elevator doors opened and you stepped out, the redhead following closely behind.

You unlocked your door, avoiding the redhead’s question. Natasha, however, was not ready to let it go. “Don’t ignore me.”

You sighed a long sigh, putting your backpack down on the floor as she walked through the door, flicking the door closed behind her. Your jaw clenched as you stood back up while Natasha walked towards you with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“You act like you own me, but every time I make an attempt to return the gesture you push me away, why is that?”

“Do you not like it?”

“Well if you’re gonna do that, do it like you mean it,” Your face was inches away from hers, an angry fire lit behind her eyes.

“You want me to mean it?” She asked, her hands sliding up to your neck, twirling some of the baby hairs are the bottom of your neck around her finger.

“Yes,” You whispered, inching closer. She leaned in until your lips were mere millimeters apart. Her hand pulled your head back roughly before your felt her lips connecting to your skin. You moaned, your hands automatically finding their place on her hips and pulling her closer.

Her teeth grazed your skin, her grip on your hair tightening before she made you look at her again. “You’re mine,” She pushed off of you and pushed you back until you fell back onto your bed. “Not anybody else’s,” She straddled your hips, grinding down on the strap between your legs. “Other people don’t get to touch what’s mine.”

“I wouldn’t want anybody else to,” You said, bucking your hips up against hers. Her hand wrapped around your throat as she leaned over you, putting more pressure against your airway.

“Mine,” She almost growled, lifting her hips and roughly pushing off of you. You gasped, sitting up onto your elbows while you caught your breath. You watched her shimmy her underwear down her legs, quickly scrambling to take off your own. She moved forward and grabbed onto your hands, completely pulling off your pants down before crawling back onto the bed.

“Do you think she wants you?” She asked, her eyes never leaving your body on the bed as she crawled over you. “Think she wants anything more than this?” Her hand wrapped around the strap, pushing it against you. “This is all you’re worth,” She chuckled, darkly, hovering over you. “And it’s all mine.”

You don’t remember telling her you were ever with someone else, but you were too dazed to care. Her nails dug into your thighs as she lowered herself to the toy between your legs. Your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips when she took the tip of the strap past her lips. Her head bobbed up and down the length of the dildo, her cheeks hollowing out with every movement. It wasn’t long before the redhead was crawling back up your body.

“Natasha,” You tried pleading, hand wandering her body as she positioned herself. “You- She-”

“Shut up,” She said, her hand circling back around your throat. ��I don’t wanna hear it.”

She lined up the toy with her entrance, sliding the tip along her clearly dripping folds. Your hands moved to slide over the top of her thighs, fingers reaching up to her hips then sliding back down.

“See what you do to me?” She asked, whining as the strap slid over a sensitive spot. Your lips turned up into a smirk as you gripped her hips and made her sink down onto your strap in one swift movement. “Fuck Y/N!”

You knew you had her.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, bucking up into her again. The moan she released something almost angelic. You wanted to hear it again.

She whined, rolling her hips onto yours as her hand made its way back around your throat. You felt her grip tighten as she licked a long stripe up your neck to your ear. “Do that again.”

Your hands slid around to her ass, squeezing her soft skin and moving her hips up and down your length. She moaned against your neck, her hand scratching down from your neck to the top of your shirt. You hissed when her teeth grazed the skin on your neck, knowing you’d be left with a mark there in the morning.

“Natasha,” You groaned as she pulled away from you, moving your hips in rhythm with hers. She whined, moving her other hand to grip the top of your shirt before she ripped it open.

“You look so hot like this,” She placed both her hands on your chest, resting her weight on top of you as she continued bouncing on the toy. “So willing to be used.”

You squeezed her hips as she leaned back, running her hands up your chest to your face. She tugged some loose strands of your har sticking to your skin back, then leaned back down to connect your lips one more time. Your hands wandered down to her ass again, making her whine against your mouth.

She ran her nails down your arms to your wrists, taking you by surprise and roughly pinning them above your head. “You’re mine to use.”

You watched her with a smug grin, loving the way her breasts bounced in her tight shirt. She moaned, a long drawn out sound as she worked herself closer to the edge. “Mine to fuck,” Her voice became airy, her head falling back as she rolled her hips onto yours. “Mine to do whatever I want with.”

She leaned back, moaning as her movements became sloppier. Her hand gripped your jaw, her grip tight as she rutted against you.

“You close?” You asked, gripping onto her hip with one hand and her arm with the other. “Why don’t you cum for me then? Make a mess for me Nat.”

“Fuck,” Natasha moaned over you, her walls tightening around the toy as she rode out her high, moaning and whimpering with your movements. You flipped the two of you over, pushing the toy into her deeper, enjoying the way her face contorted with pleasure.

“Is that all I am to you?” You asked, face inches away from hers. You pressed your hips further into her, making her whine. “Only something to make you feel good?”

You easily slid the toy in and out of her, the toy hitting all the right spots. She picked up her head to look at you in the eyes, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Yes.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back with a sigh before pulling out. Natasha whined, leaning up on her elbows with a confused expression on her face. “What?”

“Nothing,” You picked up a shirt from the floor and moved towards the bathroom. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow, Nat.”

“Since when did that ever make a fucking difference?” She asked, moving off the bed and in front of you. She slid her shirt over her head and let her skirt drop to the floor. Your gaze lowered to her naked body, her smirk growing as you caught your lip between your teeth. “You don’t wanna fuck me anymore?”

She pressed you back against the doorframe, dipping her head into your neck and leaving a trail of small hickeys down your neck. Her hands slid down your arms and placed your hands on her hips, leaning closer to you. You could feel her slow breaths on your face, and you didn’t realize you moved forward until she was pressed against the opposite side of the door frame.

Natasha’s smirk grew, her white teeth now peeking out from between her lips. “You don’t wanna press me up against the wall and fuck me until I can’t even think anymore?”

“I never said that,” You growled before connecting your lips again, the redhead’s hands entangling in your hair and pulling you flush against her. Your hands reached down and pulled her up, her legs wrapping around your waist. Natasha moaned, her lips trailing down your neck as you slid the toy back into her.

She moaned against your skin with ever buck of your hips, her whole body jolting with your movements. By this point in the night you didn’t even have to look in the mirror to know Natasha had littered your skin with deep bruises. She didn’t want Gen to have a single doubt in her mind, you were Natasha’s, not anybody else’s.

Natasha whined into you, hands pulling your head back to look at her. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” You watched her bounce another few times, waiting for her to become more desperate. You tilted your head, smirking when she tightened her grip on your hair and whined. “Please.”

“I’m all yours,” You said, watching her face scrunch up as her orgasm started washing over her. Natasha’s hands gripped onto your shoulders as she came for a second time, her head leaning back onto the doorframe. Your lips kissed down her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot at the corner of her jaw.

Her legs unwrapped from around your waist, your grip on her hips faltering as you slowly eased her down. Natasha pushed you away before you could leave anything permanent. She slid her hands down your chest, admiring the small bruises she left in her wake, tracing the scratches she etched onto your skin.

Natasha loved when you were like this, when your skin was covered with her. There was no way anyone would look at you snd not think you had someone you belonged to. She was pleased with her work, she doesn’t have to worry about Gen.

—

Natasha wasn’t planning on following you into the library the next day, she really wasn’t. But you sent her a snapchat of you after you showered and she noticed some of her marks had faded faster that she would’ve hoped. She was only doing this to make sure Gen didn’t cross a line.

She watched you greet her, the same friendliness you had offered yesterday. Everything was fine until Gen stupidly decided to ask about the marks on your neck.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” You said, looking over your shoulder. Natasha wondered if you knew she was there. You didn’t, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of her eyes on you. Gen, however, seemed like she had a death wish by how insistent she was on knowing where all the hickeys came from.

“I just don’t get how you have so many, Jesus, Y/N,” Her fingers traced the ones on the side of your neck and you subtly scooted away from her.

“They’re hickeys, Gen, don’t be a fucking moron,” Natasha muttered under her breath, roughly turning the page of the textbook she was pretending to read. The redhead noticed the way you didn’t welcome Gen’s touch, the way you almost flinched away from it. Gen was about to learn an unpleasant lesson.

Whoever Natasha wants, Natasha gets. There’s no standing in her way.

—

You ended up leaving the library much later than you’d planned. Gen had to leave early, telling you she was being called into an emergency sorority meeting. You knew the drill. You knew it was her gaze you were feeling through the day.

Poor Gen. She was nice, and she loved Tri Delta, it’s a shame Natasha would have to kick her out.

You were packing up your things when your phone buzzed with a text from Natasha. You were wondering when she was gonna text.

Come over?

You answered you’d be there soon. Natasha might be a little extreme, but just enough to keep you hooked. A sick and twisted part of you loved how she went out of her way to make sure she had you.

Because that’s the way it would always be. She had you, and would have you for as long as she wanted, but you’d never have her. Strangely, that was enough for you.

You made your way across campus to Natasha’s sorority, the usually busy campus eerily quiet at this time of the night. When you walked up to the large house, a cold chill ran down your spine, the usually buzzing mansion suspiciously quiet even for this late at night.

The strong smell of bleach was the first thing that welcomed you as you stepped through the door. You watched as two of Natasha’s sorority sisters walked down the stairs and into the kitchen with bloodied rags and a bucket.

“What the fuck?” You somehow walked further into the house, ignoring every instinct telling you to get the fuck out of there. You spotted a pledge walking past you, her face pale as she carried a bucket of what seemed like bloodied water.

You continued your way to the staircase, noticing the small droplets of red on the steps. Your stomach turned, wondering what in the hell could’ve happened and why there weren’t any authorities at the house.

“Maria,” You spotted the brunette wiping down the wall, small streaks of red following the rag in her hand. “What the hell happened?”

“You know how she is,” She shrugged and turned back to the wall. “Just Nat being Nat.”

Your head turned to the other end of the hallway where Natasha’s bedroom was. Your chest tightened at the heavy trail of blood leading into the room.

“It’s a shame,” You snapped back to Maria who continued to wipe the wall. “I liked Gen.”

You swallowed hard as you took careful steps towards her bedroom, trying not to step on any of the blood. Your hands shook the closer you got to the door, having to wipe them on your pants before you entered the bedroom.

“Nat?” The redhead was straddling a body on her bed, her clothes completely drenched in blood with smudged handprints covering her chest and neck. She turned her head to look at you, roughly pulling the knife out of the unfortunate girl under her. Your eyes widened in horror when you noticed it was Gen.

“Y/N,” Her voice was sweet, and somehow inviting. “You made it.”

“What did you do?” You walked towards Gen, but Natasha stopped you, the bloody knife pressing up against your stomach as she looked up at you. “Nat-”

“She needed to learn her lesson,” Her cold stare bore into you, invited you in, drowned you in her affection. The blade of the knife slid over your clothes before you felt the tip pressing against you. “Nobody comes between me and what I want.”

“Natasha she never did, she-”

“Shh,” The tip of the knife pressed further into you, Natasha’s free hand gripping your jaw and making you look at down at her. “She needed, to learn, her lesson.”

Your chest heaved up and down, your stomach twisting when you noticed her blood was smeared on your face now. You wanted to throw up. Natasha’s lips tugged upwards, bringing your face down closer to hers.

“It’s okay, baby,” She said, her breath brushing over your face. “There’s nothing between us now, it’s just us.” Her lips touched yours and for a moment you forgot what she had just done. “It’s just you and me now.”

It’s just you and her.

Your eyes were locked onto hers. How could someone so perfect do something like this. Gen groaned from her bed, your eyes trailing towards her. Natasha’s grip on your jaw tightened, the knuckles grabbing onto the knife turning white with rage.

“Don’t look at her,” Her voice was almost unrecognizable. “You’re mine.”

She pushed you back before moving towards Gen again. In one swift move, before you could stop her, Natasha sank the knife into the other girl’s chest. Blood spattered on your cheek, Gen’s body went limp.

Natasha turned back to you, her hands shaking and tears in her eyes as if she had just caught up to her actions.

“All I wanted was you,” Her voice cracked. “I wanted you to myself.”

You didn’t know what you were doing, but you stepped forward and took her into your arms, her small frame shaking with her sobs. “You have me.”

“I did this for you,” She said as you both fell to your knees, Natasha almost limp in your embrace, a small smirk tugging on her lips as she nuzzled into you. “Look what you made me do.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff smut #dark!natasha romanoff #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff smut #*singsong* she's making a comebaaack

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magiccath · 5 months

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A matchmaker of sorts

tenth doctor x GN!reader

summary: In which Donna is fed up with her love-sick, oblivious best friends.

Warnings: brief use of y/n

Donna had always known that her best friends were in love with each other. She wouldn’t call herself the most observational person, but it really didn’t take much to notice. She was honestly surprised that neither of you had figured it out by now.

The two of you were different in the ways that you showed your affection, but she had picked up on it.

The Doctor always looked at you with that big, stupid grin. He only ever smiled that much when you were around. He looked at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She supposed to him you were.

He always made excuses to touch you, even in the slightest of ways. He would ghost his hand on the small of your back when you were in crowded areas, something he never once did with her. He was always holding your hand, and you were the very first person he hugged after any victory (no matter how small).

You, on the other hand, were always flustered around the Time Lord. You turned scarlet from his little touches, especially when he hugged you. When he got super excited he would sometimes pull you into a tight hug, spinning you around the room ceremoniously. She could have sworn she once saw you grin bashfully into his shoulder as he whipped the two of you around the room.

When he walked around the ship your eyes would always follow him. Even off the ship, you seemed to be constantly looking at him. You always managed to look away embarrassed before getting caught, though.

The two of you were clearly head over heels. Donna would even admit that you were good for each other. The only issue was that neither of you could seem to see the other’s feelings, no matter how glaringly obvious they were.

Donna was pondering this issue one afternoon when she got an idea. She could try and mastermind the two of you into each other’s arms. At the very least, maybe she could encourage you to admit your feelings. Mischievous antics were already brewing in her brain.

“Doctor?” Donna asked, walking over to lean casually against the TARDIS console.

“Yes?” He acknowledged, not looking up from his work. He was fiddling with the controls in front of him. You and Donna had stopped asking specifics beyond that long ago. Sometimes he just needed something to do with his hands.

“Let me set you up on a date,” Donna smiled cheekily.

“Not interested,” he grumbled, eyes still trained on the console. Maybe he actually was doing something purposeful.

“Why not? I know you’re lonely.”

“I have you.”

“Oi!” she gasped, slapping him, “not like that!”

“I mean, I have you to keep me company,” he sighed, taking his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. “And y/n.”

“Don’t you want someone you can be with romantically though?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” he sighed, turning away from her, “I don’t age, I regenerate,” he said, a twinge of sadness riddled in his voice.

“That’s not a valid enough reason,” Donna put her hands on her hips. If that’s all the cause he had for never asking you out, he needed a proper whacking.

“I can’t spend the rest of my life with someone.”

“Can’t you just enjoy the time you can?” “Why risk it? It eventually ends,” he groaned, moving back to the console. He was clearly done with this line of questioning, but she wasn’t.

Donna knew the Doctor could get lost in his thoughts, but they usually weren’t this pessimistic. Self-effacing and anxious? Sure. But properly “glass half empty” wasn’t the Doctor’s style.

“What about y/n?” She gandered. She examined her nails as if her words weren’t carefully planned.

“What about them?” The Doctor raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“Why don’t you go on a date with them?” She clarified. The Doctor's eyes widened and he looked away with a scarlet flush.

“I- uh.”

“I see the way you look at them,” Donna poked, feeling she was getting somewhere.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“I think you do!” Donna groaned, moving away from him. He could be so stubborn at times.

She started to walk away when the Doctor’s voice caught her attention. His gaze was glued to the console, so she wasn’t even sure if he was talking to her at first.

“What if I did?” He finally whispered. Donna looked back with interest, her eyebrows raised. “What if I did have feelings for them?”

“Do you?” She asked lightly.

“What if I’m so very in love with them and it scares me more than anything ever has before? What if I think about them all the time and the only thing I want to do is kiss them?” He shoved himself off of the console and started pacing, his hands raking through his hair anxiously. “What if they’re the most beautiful being I have ever seen and I want to spend as much time as I can with them?”

Donna stared at him wide-eyed and flabbergasted. She hadn’t expected him to admit his feelings to her.

“Hypothetically,” he added. Donna chorted. Of course, he needed some plausible deniability in the matter.

“Hypothetically,” she confirmed, smiling to herself.

“It really hurts, Donna,” He looked at her, pain etched into the features of his face. “Being this infatuated with them, and knowing it can never happen.”

Donna leaned her head sympathetically on his should, but before she could respond a crash came from the nearby hallway. Both Donna and the Doctor turned in the direction of the noise, clearly confused.

You cursed to yourself, bending down to pick up the book you had dropped. You had been walking down the hallway when you heard Donna say your name. You picked up that she was talking to the Doctor and didn’t want to interfere, so you just remained in the hallway. You hadn’t intended to eavesdrop at all. Once you started listening, it had just become a little hard to stop.

So much for subtly you thought to yourseld, moving slowly out of the hallway and into the room with a wince. Talk about awkward.

The Doctor looked at you with shockingly wide eyes before quickly averting his gaze. He acted as if you had just walked in on him admitting something horrible.

“Hi,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The Doctor was still fidgeting his face bright red, refusing to look your way. You stared at him awkwardly, the tension in the room at an all-time high.

You wrung your hands anxiously, not sure what to do now. You hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead.

“Right!” Donna sprung up, her voice breaking the deafening silence. You stared at her in shock, her sudden contribution had startled you.

“I have things to do,” she lied, pointing to the hall. You nodded meekly, and the Doctor didn’t respond. Awkwardly, Donna made her way to the door. She turned back around to send an encouraging thumbs-up in your direction. You smiled painfully back at her.

The room remained silent for a few minutes after she left. It was an awkward and uncomfortable kind of silence.

You sulked over to the console to stand adjacent to the Doctor, but you didn’t know where to go from there. You settled on leaning back against the cool metal, your eyes focused on your trainers.

“How much of that did you hear?” The Doctor finally mumbled.

“Quite a bit,” you admitted, rubbing your arm absent-mindedly. You really hoped everything he had said was true, but a small part of you still refused to believe it. You’d been in love with the Doctor for so long, the thought of him feeling the same way was so far fetched.

“I- Uh, well,” He choked. You tried again to catch his eyes, but he averted his gaze.

“Doctor?” You asked, running your hands along the console next to him. Next to you, he stiffened.

“Just forget it ever happened,” He said, shoving himself off the console. He ran his hands through his hair aggressively, still not looking you in the eye.

“What?! No!” you gasped, shoving off the console too, “you can’t take it back! That’s such a coward move!” You snapped.

The Doctor looked at you, shocked. His mouth was slightly agape, and he met your eyes for the first time since you had walked into the room.

“Especially not when I feel the same,” you mumbled. Now it was your turn to avoid his gaze, your eyes settling on the floor.

“What?” He asked, stunned. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“You heard me,” you whispered, deciding it would just be worse to double back on yourself.

The Doctor moved closer to you so he could delicately trace the lines of your jaw, guiding your face gently upwards. Your eyes landed on his and you had to fight the urge to look away.

“Do you really mean that?” He whispered, his breath dancing across your face.

“Yeah,” you gasped, voice hardly a whisper.

The Doctor smiled brightly before lightly gripping your face to guide it up to his own, his lips crashing into yours.

The Doctor kissed in a way that was so very him. He couldn’t stay still, his hands constantly moving in one way or another. They danced around your face, rubbing small circles into your cheeks, they tangled themselves in your hair, or ran elegantly down your sides. Every touch sent sparks through your body, a warmth spreading with it.

He wrapped his long arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. Your feet dangled comically, and you couldn’t help but feel silly.

You hummed happily, sinking deeper into the kiss. You felt more at home than you ever had in your life, and you never wanted it to end.

The two of you were happy, the world only consisting of each other.

That was until Donna started loudly clearing her throat.

The Doctor pulled slightly away and lowered you down to the floor slowly. However, he didn’t remove his grip on you, still holding you gently against him. He wasn’t ready to let you go yet. Begrudgingly, you turned your head to look at Donna.

The fiery redhead stood with her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised in question. You felt a scarlet flush flood your cheeks, and you avoided eye contact.

“Been waiting for you two to stop being so thick,” she rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “Now, if you two will stop snogging, I would like to go somewhere”

The Doctor threw his head back laughing, arms still lightly wrapped around you. After a minute, you joined in.

“Allons-y!” He cheered, grabbing your hand with a bright smile.

#10th doctor x reader #tenth doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #tenth docotor imagines #The Doctor and Donna #Donna noble #doctor who #10th doctor #tenth doctor #doctor who fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #david tennant

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aralezinspace · 1 year

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Matchmaker

Requested by @internet-stranger-says-hi: Ninth Doctor/reader where Jack and rose get fed up by their obliviousness and play matchmaker

A/N: this TARDIS crew is one of my absolute FAVES xD Doesn't feel like some of my best writing, but I enjoyed writing these sassy space dumbasses xD Hope you like it!!

~~Requests are open!~~ ~~Current WIPs~~

“Don’t think I haven’t seen you staring.” Jack’s words came from above you, disrupting the peace in one of the TARDIS’ many lounges.

You had carefully picked this particular spot to read your book, some peace and quiet had been needed after your latest adventure. Rose had joined you about fifteen minutes in, but she had a magazine of her own. The two of you had been sitting in companionable silence for not nearly long enough before Jack had barged in.

You looked up from your book, indignation rising slightly when you saw the smugly teasing smirk pulling up the corner of his mouth. He even had his hands on his hips, cockily resting his weight on one leg. The captain was positively itching for mischief. You rolled your eyes and gave him a look before looking back down at the page, trying to find your spot.

“Don’t flatter yourself, captain. I’m definitely not the first to notice you have a nice ass, and I won’t be the last.”

Jack shrugged in acquiescence; you certainly weren’t wrong in that regard. “Fair,” he conceded, “But that’s not what I’m talking about.” At this point, Rose peeked up from her magazine, curious to see just what kind of staring Jack was about to charge you with.

“Then what are you talking about?” you asked indulgently, turning a page to hide your exasperation. So much for peace and quiet.

“You’re gonna make me say it?” Jack sauntered over to the couch you were plopped into and draped himself over the remaining two cushions. His sock covered toes gently tapped your thigh.

“Spit it out Jack,” Rose urged with a big smile, never passing up an opportunity for teasing anyone. Jack sighed like he was under extreme duress and pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh this was just delicious.

“Alright then. Sixth moon of Caldorsia, not twelve hours ago. Your eyes barely left the backside of our mutual friend. You, my obvious little friend, were staring.”

You pretended to ignore him and turn another page, but Jack had found you out. You had admitted it to yourself, but that didn’t mean you were ready to admit to anyone else that you had a major crush on the Doctor. You bit your bottom lip, trying to suppress the burning flush that had risen to your cheeks.

“Not only that,” Jack continued, oblivious to your discomfort (or at least feigning it), “There was that time a few weeks ago when he helped you out of that sink hole, gathered you in his arms and you giggled and swooned like a Victorian lady.”

In… Out… In… Out… You forced yourself to breathe slowly, evenly. You couldn’t let Jack and Rose see how affected you were. Rose’s smile grew, the tip of her tongue between her teeth.

“Oh, and!” Jack held up a finger like he had a eureka moment. “There was that time in Spain when the two of you got caught-“

You threw your book at Jack before he could say any more, the paperback hitting him square in the chest.

“I KNEW IT!” Rose yelled, clapping her hands and laughing. “I knew you had a thing for him!”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands, trying to drown out Jack and Rose’s laughter. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed,” Jack goaded. He put your book on the floor and patted your back. “Not the first to have a crush on dear old Doctor and certainly won’t be the last.” Rose giggled again.

“Exceeept,” she cooed, fanning herself with her magazine. “I could swear I saw a certain Time Lord staring back…” You lifted your head up just an inch, a tiny spark of hope glimmering to life in your chest.

“Wait,” you asked in a small, barely audible whisper, “Really?”

Jack stifled a giggle against his fist. It really was just too cute, how much you and the Doctor clearly had feelings for each other and were just too silly to realize or act on it. “Oh yea,” he agreed, briefly biting into his knuckles. “I can confirm, those eyes rarely leave your-“

Rose threw her magazine at Jack, albeit with much less intent to kill. “So!” she sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Think you two lovebirds can sort this out on your own, or do the captain and I need to intervene?”

Over your next few adventures, Jack and Rose tried everything they could think of to get you and the Doctor alone and in a confessing spirit, and nothing had worked- tender moments, life-threatening incidents that overwhelmed one into getting all their secrets off their chest, even truth or dare. Nothing could get the two of you to just come clean with each other. As sweet as it was to watch you stare tenderly and wistfully when you thought the other wasn’t looking, the lack of results was getting frustrating.

A few (relative) weeks after Jack and Rose’s intervention, you went on another adventure that had not yielded any confessions of love, but for once, it was you saving him (with the help of Jack and Rose). That’s right, you had figured out how to save the Doctor, Jack, Rose, and an entire passenger shuttle. You were on top of the world, the whole universe! Your blood ran deliciously hot in your veins, you felt like you could run a marathon, fight anything and anyone bare-handed. You even felt like you had enough courage to finally fess up. You had just saved his life, there probably wouldn’t be a better time.

The Doctor nimbly piloted them back into the vortex, bracing himself on the console with his head hung once they were safe in the river of time. He had come so close to losing all three of you, close enough to feel the specter of death breathing down his neck. And then, like a shining angel in full glory, you had appeared with a solution, saving everyone on that shuttle, including him. He had never seen you like that, full of blazing fury and determination. Once he saw that look in your eyes, he knew they were all going to make it out alive.

He had never felt so much simultaneous love and terror in his life.

You were pacing laps around the console room, adrenaline still fueling your steps. Rose and Jack had discreetly sidled into a corner, watching the two of you and whispering, taking bets on whether one of you would finally break.

You got in two more laps before the impulse hit you. The Doctor was no longer hunched over the console as if it were the only thing that could keep him standing, rather he was standing straight and tall, hands behind his back, a soldier at rest. On your next lap, you broke your pattern and your brisk strides took you to the Doctor.

You purposefully grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him into a searing kiss. The Doctor was only momentarily surprised, his hands flailing for a few seconds before resting on your shoulders.

You barely heard Jack and Rose’s cheers and high fives, all your senses were focused on the Doctor and the fact that he was returning your kiss. When the two of you finally separated so you could breathe (damn respiratory bypass), the adrenaline finally faded and a dopey smile spread across your face.

“Took you long enough!” Jack called with a laugh, only feeling safe to do so because there was nothing in your reach you could throw at him. Rose chimed in with “You’re welcome!” The Doctor glowered, but you just rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Yea yea yea,” you ground out with a laugh. “You two are regular matchmakers.”

#Doctor Who #Doctor Who fanfic #the doctor x reader #ninth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine

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lanawinterscigarettes · 2 months

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put on your records and regret me (Whittaker! Master x reader, Dhawan! Doctor x reader)

Summary: after a long and less than healthy relationship with the Master, you find yourself searching for love in the arms of another

Warnings: cheating, Master and reader have a pretty toxic relationship (Master's controlling, possessive, doesn't think reader deserves bodily autonomy, etc.), reader doesn't really have a good basis for what a healthy relationship looks like so they just go along with it, ending could be seen as somewhat bittersweet (Doctor and reader end up happy but Master doesn't, and it's pretty obvious)

A/N: another song based fic because I cannot and will not be stopped (this time based on high infidelity by taylor swift) I hope you enjoy the pain </3

You didn't think when you first started your affair with the Doctor that she'd find out. Not if you told your lies well enough. Not if you were careful. Clearly, you underestimated the Master and what she was capable of.

She would always find out. It didn't matter what you did or how well you thought you'd covered up your tracks. Sooner or later she'd find out what you were hiding.

After all, she was nothing if not persistent. The only reason she hadn't figured it out sooner was the blind hope she had. The delusion that you still loved her when you didn't.

Maybe a part of you still did, but not the way you had before. You didn't love her nearly as much when you first met. But then you figured it's easier to love someone before you find out who they really are.

The Master vowed to give you everything, and yet all of her promises were empty. You made plans, and they fell through. You gave so much, and in return she took it all and left very little behind.

She didn't know how to give when it came to love, only take. So she did just that until there was nothing left, and kept taking even after.

It really shouldn't have come as a shock when you started becoming more and more withdrawn. You loved her, you really did, but what good was a person's love if they didn't receive any back?

And yet, still you stayed. You'd been cut off from your friends and family, and she would threaten anyone who so much as looked at you for too long, so there was nowhere for you to go. You had no choice but to stay there with her, forever.

Until he came along; the Doctor. He took all of your darkest gray skies and swept the clouds away, repainting them as the most vibrant shades of blue.

He actually took the time to get to know you, the real you, and not the version of you that you had been manipulated and molded into by The Master so long ago. It was like a breath of fresh air after spending so long being trapped in a house full of smoke.

If she wasn't so self obsessed, she might've noticed the change in your personality sooner, but the Master rarely paid attention to things that weren't based on or around her.

You used to find it to be an endearing trait, a slight character flaw, but after being around someone so selfless like the Doctor for as long as you did you couldn't stand going back to thinking that way. In fact, there were a lot of things you couldn't stand going back to.

The curfews, the jealousy, the possession over you, the randomly picked fights- none of those things seemed like the fairytale you once thought them to be. The Doctor had taken off your rose colored glasses and finally exposed the Master to you for who she really was; a major walking red flag.

All of this was completely unbeknownst to the very problem herself, of course. She had just assumed you were growing so distant and moody because you were upset with her for all the times she threatened to handcuff you to your bedpost if you tried to leave.

I mean, honestly, what was she supposed to do? Sit down and talk it out like a normal person would? Actually acknowledge your feelings and take them into account? As if.

She finally got wise as to what was going on when she was going over the TARDIS travel logs one day and saw several trips that she didn't remember taking. She never bothered to shut the TARDIS off whenever she left you alone with it, as she figured you were much too ignorant to know how to fly it and much too fearful of her to try.

It was her constant underestimation of you that helped you get away with doing so much. Of course you weren't trying to escape that one time when you ran off into a random alien marketplace. You were just scared of some of the locals, you would never try to actually get away from her.

One or two crash landings would have been one thing, but multiple trips to the same star systems back to back? That gave her reason to be suspicious.

She also noted how any possible crashes had repairs done to them almost immediately after they took place, another thing that was definitely unusual as she never let you learn how to do maintenance on the TARDIS, either.

Knowing how to fix anything wrong with it was just a few steps away from being able to fly it, and that led to the possibility of you leaving her.

The Master frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in a mix of confusion and annoyance as she studied the repairs that had been done. They were far too advanced for some silly human like you to do, at least not by yourself.

In fact, the only person who could be possibly repair it so well was someone who knew their way around a TARDIS. Someone who was well knowledgeable in Gallifrean technology. Someone like...

Her nostrils flared with anger as the hand resting on one of the control panel's several knobs tightened into a fist, clutching it harshly in the center of her palm. The TARDIS let out a beep in response, almost as if to tell her to loosen her grip, but she ignored it.

It was all starting to make sense now. How could she have not seen it before? Of course it was him that was behind all of the weird things that were going on.

The Doctor was the only one other than her that could possibly teach you how to do repairs on the TARDIS, as well as fly it. She also happened to know that he often frequented the star systems you'd been traveling to in your spare time.

It was just then that she realized she hadn't heard from you in a good three hours. She'd dropped you off on some random planet so she could spend some time alone in the TARDIS, as she was custom to do when you got too aggravating.

You'd usually send her a distress signal on the small communicator she gave you after just thirty minutes, begging and pleading with her to come pick you up again. And yet, nothing. There were no new messages on her end.

It made her think; if you'd been taught how to fly and fix the TARDIS by the Doctor, it wouldn't be too much of a leap to assume he'd taught you how to message his own TARDIS.

The Master felt her blood go from boiling hot with rage to running ice cold in fear. How could she be so stupid? She was so focused on keeping you with her physically that she hadn't even bothered to make you want to stay.

She quickly pulled up the tracking information for the communicator, relieved to see it pinpointed you as still being on the same planet she left you on. Maybe if she hurried she could catch you before it was too late.

The TARDIS was put into overdrive as she flew it back to the planet where she'd left you, nearly crashing as she was too caught up on the thoughts of getting you back to worry about parking correctly.

Tree branches reached out, scratching at her limbs and snagging her coat as she ran through the woods, calling out your name. When she finally reached the field where she last saw you, she half expected for you to be there, waiting for her like you always were.

You'd jump up and run into her arms, and she would apologize over and over again for all the ways that she'd managed to hurt you. But you weren't there.

The Master fell to her knees, her chest aching as her eyes darted around the empty field, trying to find you.

A glimmer of something reflecting off the rays of the sun caught her eye, and she felt her heart break in two as she realized it was the communicator. It had been ditched on purpose, left there as a red herring so she wouldn't spend time trying to find out where you'd actually gone.

A strangled cry of sorrow and frustration tore from her throat as she felt her eyes become wet with tears. She looked up at the sky and bitterly shouted for it to bring you back, someone, anyone.

Nothing happened, just like she'd expected. She thought with time she could learn how to show her love to you in a healthy, unburdening sort of way, but apparently she was wrong.

You were gone now, lost in the love of another, of her worst friend, of her best enemy. And as much as she wanted to hate you, she couldn't.

After all, you couldn't be blamed for leaving, as she knew she'd run away from her own self, if only she could.

felt like gifting y'all some angst today <3

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

Main masterlist | Doctor Who masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @theonetruepotato87 @sessa23

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the-untamed-soul · 2 years

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It’s fire, it’s freedom (part 3)

croA/N: I will admit taking two weeks to write the next chapter is quite rude and I apologize! I let life get ahead of me. I didn’t think the bar scene fit well into this chapter but expect it in part 4! All the spears to me for the tardiness and crappy quality of this one.

Pairing: Tom “ICEMAN” Kazansky x Y/N

Music: The Greatest Show – Greatest Showman

Summary: Two volleyball matches, a new callsign and a cute moment between a Gosling and his auntie.

“Goose?”

“Yes Sprite?”

“I fucking hate sand. Remind me to tell Mr. Sandman that he needs to keep it in line.”

“……Sprite I don’t think that’s how it works.” Goose tried to keep a straight face as he gazed down at his sister-in-law. The aforementioned woman was glaring at the hot terrain, a pout causing her lower lip to jut out and her hands were crossed stubbornly over her chest.

“Well today is the fucking day. I swear to God he has it out for me since I said Pitch Black was cooler than him.” Y/N tossed her hands up to the sky and stomped her foot once before turning to meet the gaze of two amused but confused pilots. “Don’t ask. Best two out of three Popsicle Man.”

“It’s Iceman.”

“Does it look like I care? You remind me of a L’Oréal commercial so deal with being called Popsicle Man before I call you Vogue or something.”

Goose couldn’t help the snort that escaped him nor the shaking of his shoulders as he hid his face in his hands. Slider was also attempting to not meet the gaze of his pilot, staring off into the distance before offhandedly remarking, “She isn’t exactly wrong.”

“Shut up Ron.”

“Shutting up.”

A volleyball sailing past their face caused the two to turn their attention back to Goose and Y/N. The short woman tried and failed to keep an innocent look upon her face as she questioned, “Are you guys going to play or are you afraid that you’ll be chanting the Air Force song by the end of the night?”

“Hey Mother Goose? Don’t kill Iceman for taking your sister-in-law on a date. We need someone to keep Maverick from killing the rest of us and that Top Gun trophy won’t be near as fun to win if your best competition is six feet under.” Slider shared a long look with his fellow RIO as both teams got back into position. The first game had ended in their favor, but it had been a close one before Y/N decided she could no longer play nicely with Mr. Sandman.

“Moneys on Ice,” Hollywood nudged Wolfman and received a grin in return. “Easy money. Y/N looks like she is about to kill Slider.”

Y/N grimaced as she dived to return a ball and felt her side spasm in pain. The first set hadn’t bothered her at first but as time went on, her scar was starting to give her problems. Each jump sent fire down her leg and caused her teeth to clench involuntarily. Sweat gathered at her temples and her body trembled with both exhaustion and pain. It was only her sheer desire to win and prove herself that kept her standing. Y/N ignored the concerned looks that Goose sent her way, knowing that if she gave him an opening that he would try to end the game before she was ready to toss in the towel.

Across the net, Iceman’s gaze was switching between Goose and Y/N. He picked up the tension in his classmate’s face and the way Y/N was clearly favoring her right hip. He could make out the puckered skin of fresh scar tissue and it caused questions to bubble inside his head. What had caused that? Is she prideful enough to keep playing even though she is clearly struggling? Iceman almost snorted. Of course, she would. She was Maverick’s friend.

Casting a glance at his RIO, Iceman nodded once in Y/N’s direction before leaping up and setting up the ball for Slider to snag the game winning point. Y/N and Goose moved to intercept but just barely missed the ball before it slammed into the hot sand. “And that’s game. Seems like we won 2 out of 3, Y/N.” Ice couldn’t help the cocky tone that entered his voice or the automatic puff of his chest as he gazed at the woman who had snagged his attention.

Y/N could only shake her head in disbelief but also felt the initial stirring of admiration. So, Iceman was more than just a pretty face and cocky attitude of a pilot.

“So, you did, Popsicle Man. Guess I will be seeing you boys later at the Hard Deck. Don’t worry – I won’t take forever in front of the mirror AND I’ll be nice and get you something stronger than the fruity drinks I know you boys so enjoy and love.”

Iceman quirked a brow before shaking his head with a laugh, “Don’t forget that your day tomorrow is mine. Let’s see if you’re more than all bark, Tweety.”

“What did you just call me?” Y/N took a step forward, her face taking on a rosy hue and her hands clenching and unclenching as she imagined tackling the infuriating pilot. How had she admired him only a second ago?

“Tweety, short for Tweety Bird. You seem all sweet and innocent, but we all know you’re not. You’ll grow to like it. Well, as much as you can grow.” Laughter came from the gathered people and even Goose chuckled at the now dubbed ‘Tweety.’

“Vogue. You’re going to die. Not today, not tomorrow but sometime in the near future. Goose, shut up before I tell Carole you bullied me today and she doesn’t ask you to take her to bed.” A few “Ooos!” came from Hollywood and Wolfman as Y/N turned and tried to stomp away from the gathered men. She made it a few steps before her leg started to buckle and she had to grab Goose for support. As she steadied herself, she met first Goose then Iceman’s eyes before turning away stubbornly. She didn’t want to see the questions or the pity in their eyes. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Honey! Come tell Sprite to stop being stubborn for once and accept some help.” Goose called out to his wife as he watched his sister-in-law stubbornly limp upon the stairs to the house he had been provided by the Navy.

There was a sound of scampering feet before a small head of blonde hair poked around the glass door and the eyes of the gosling locked onto his aunt. “Auntie! Are you huwrt? Did Dad push you down the stairs again? OOOOoooo you’re in trouble Da. Momma is gunna wash your mouth out with soap! And then she won’t give you any of the chocolate chip cookies and I will get more and and....”

Y/N laughed as she scooped up her nephew and hugged him tightly to her chest. “Yeah Goose. No cookies for you AND an extra helping of dawn.” y/n mocked and widened her eyes dramatically. Goose was tempted to stick his tongue out at his sister, eyes narrowed dangerously but his face cleared instantly when Carole Bradshaw appeared in the doorway.

“Did I hear Gosling say you pushed y/n/n down the stairs? With her bad hip? Nick Bradshaw! I know your ma taught you better than that!” With laughter in her voice and eyes, Carole tried to appear stern as she held one hand to her hip and the other wagging a finger at her husband.

“Daddy’s in big trwouble.”

“Yes, yes he is. Let’s make a run for it. I heard something about cookies...” Y/N whispered conspirately as she and Bradley made an escape for the kitchen and away from the scene of the crime. “Y/N: 124. Goose: 1.”

Y/N and Bradley had managed to eat four cookies apiece before a mussed Carole and Goose made their way into the kitchen. Her sister was quick to narrow her eyes at the two cookie thieves as they tried to appear innocent, crumbs littering clothes and chocolate staining Bradley’s cheek. “Did Goose get dish soap in the mouth?” y/n smirked, which prompted an eyeroll from Goose.

“He sure did. Remember that Gosling - boys who are mean to girls will get dish soap in their mouth and a good scolding!”

“Yes mama. If I be good, I get cookies. If I be bad like daddy, I get yucky soap.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad! I swear it was all Sprite this time! She bet against Iceman and lost. You know how your auntie gets when she loses.”

At this, Gosling and Carole both nodded their heads. Y/N was a horrible sore loser. Her competitiveness knew no bounds - even against poor Gosling which earned her quite the ribbing from Maverick and Goose alike.

“What did you bet against this time y/n?” Carole asked as she begin to pull out the lasagna she had been heating in the oven. Y/N was quick to narrow her eyes at Goose as she started to say “Well, I have to buy everyone a drink at the ba-” before she was interrupted.

“She has a date. Tomorrow. With Maverick and I’s sworn enemy! The betrayal. The horror! The poor fool.”

“It is not a date! I just have to hang around for a few hours, finagle some food and then run away the first moment he looks away.”

“A date?! You actually agreed to a bet with a date on the line?! Nick, tell me all about him. Y/N hasn’t been on a date in years. What does he look like? What’s his favorite color? How tall is he? Will y/n walk all over him? Does he sing? You know the Bradshaw tradition!” As Carole got more and more excited, y/n sank lower into the seat she had next to Gosling. Fucking Goose.

As Goose attempted to answer all the questions rapid fired his way, Bradley couldn’t resist putting a sticky finger to his aunt’s cheek. “Is ok Auntie. You win next time. And then we can go get ice cream and fly in Daddy’s jet.”

“Of course, Gosling. Anything for you.”

TAG LIST: @bellamy1998 @emiiarmenn @jkholmes @chaoticassidy @screechingdreamercollectorsblog @kanevill @rhemoona @callsignsmiley @verxyn-cryptic @red-ace-in-space @itsagpbro @fandomalert31 @nessrin

#top gun #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #iceman kazansky #iceman #top gun 1986 #carole bradshaw #goose bradshaw #ohdear

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casasupernovas · 1 year

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if anyone has martha's page from the 'journal of impossible things' PLEASE reblog it under this post because i saw it on twitter during lockdown and now i can't find it. my main problem with series 3 is that there isn't enough focus on martha outside of unrequited love, and this page from john smith's journal teases a WAY more interesting story that joan and john. in the episode, the doctor says the tardis will pick a random place in time for them to go hide. it chooses 1913. the doctor then says he is the one to make up the character of john smith, and that he will have a residual memory of who martha is but nothing outside that. martha has to improvise, but there is a danger that john may abandon her. fast forward to the journal. john smith has dreams about his true nature and writes them down or draws it.

and in one page, he draws martha. and the stuff he says about her make me scream in frustration because we didn't get this story: john and martha. see, we barely see what john even thinks about martha (apart from that black people don't understand fiction). she's his maid and rocastle refers to her as his 'favourite servant'. but we see little evidence as to why she'd be his favourite. maybe he's pointing out that she must be important to him because he arrived with her and she is the only black maid in the school. clearly this is unusual for them. but other than this, john smith is generally oblivious to her.

but. BUT. the journal page tells us that john smith is actually well...scared of her. in his journal page, his drawing of her has her facing away from him. he, like the doctor said, knows something is important about her that he has forgotten, but everything else is suspicion and a little panic. he writes that she doesn't show him her face, why can't he see her face. see martha doesn't crumble at the execution of john smith like joan does because according to this, martha very cleverly and deliberately distances herself from 'john'. she makes sure he's okay, takes care of him but she doesn't get emotionally attatched to john smith because he isn't real. and john smith apparently notices this distance and it makes him uncomfortable. where was this story? where was the instances of john trying to get to know martha and her politely stopping this line of conversation? where's his increasing frustration at realising his 'favourite servant' isn't easy to read? where is his moment when he feels dread at martha's final revelation of the truth, confirming his long deep seated fear that something wasn't quite right and that martha is at the centre of it. where is his moments of being disturbed at how calm martha is whenever he mentions a particularly strange dream? where is that story?

#doctor who #human nature #the family of blood #martha jones #tenmartha #john smith #tenth doctor #10th doctor #journal of impossible things

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galacticlamps · 1 year

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Ok I really do love the costume changes Victoria & Jamie go through in the first ten minutes of this serial, it really feels like a settling into their characters for both of them - not even the actors, I literally mean the characters into their roles as companions.

It's so hard to imagine Victoria anywhere else but Maxtible's mansion & Skaro in her 19th century dress, but the one she has here still preserves that delicacy her outfits will lose more as time goes on - with the little floral print and the neat pleating on the front - just with a significantly more streamlined silhouette. It’s such a good ‘ok well try this maybe?’ kind of dress, which is fitting considering she’s one of relatively few companions who get a ‘please change your clothes now’ moment at the start of their first adventure proper - you can see both the sense of putting her in something like this & her discomfort with it all at once, which I think makes it a wonderful bridge between her actual Victorian gown and her obviously more Victorian-inspired but significantly more pragmatic outfit for the next two serials. I think you can tell Jamie and/or the Doctor picked it out for her, aiming for a trimmed-down version of what they’ve seen her wearing so far, but it isn’t until Abominable Snowmen that she starts dressing herself and goes for something less overtly similar to what she wore before (in as much as gown -> dress looks like less of a leap than gown -> breeches) but that has its own through-line both historically and practically.

Jamie’s costume’s development is less pronounced, but it’s amazing what a different top can do - for one, it alters his whole silhouette, since he tucks the button-down in while the sweater over the kilt almost gave him a drop-waist look, but it’s also a more structured look all over, not just because of the now-visible belt but also the collar, pockets, epaulets, and cuffed sleeves vs rolled or just shoved up ones when you’re dealing with the sweater material. Even his hair seems to take on a more shape & texture compared to the very round bowl of the last few serials.

I’ve gotta say, I think Jamie’s Season 4 look suited him being the newest, youngest, most inexperienced member of the Tardis team SO well, it just had to go as soon as Victoria joined completely and took on that role herself. When we were in Victoria’s own time period it was fine for the contrast between them to come in the form of her in a larger, more structured and more detailed outfit and him in something decidedly looser, more informal, and frankly, futuristic - but now that we’ve left it behind and she’s changed into something she’s less comfortable wearing (& doing!), his way of welcoming her, guiding her, and preceding her is to evolve himself - in this case, into a more mature & practical guardian-type role, which his clothes clearly reflect. There’s something military about the shirt itself, but he wears it in a laid-back enough style with the sleeves up and the top button undone - though compared with the pieces he’ll accumulate later on in his tenure, there’s still something youthfully unencumbered about this first iteration without the ascots and the vests and the sporran, and the slimmer shoes with the long socks vs the chunkier boots with the shorter ones. It’s actually one of my favorite costumes for him, mainly because I think it hits that mark of no-longer-the-least-experienced-traveler so well - but for the same reason, I’m unreasonably peeved whenever it’s some version of this costume that appears on the cover of audios meant to be set during Season 4 when he’s traveling with Ben & Polly - the evolution feels so deliberate, that’s just not the same Jamie at all! And in that regard, Tomb really does feel like the start of a new season, a new stage in the characters’ lives, in a way that season openers don’t always do at this time in the show’s history, which is a nice fresh detail.

#tomb of the cybermen #victoria waterfield #jamie mccrimmon

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saiilorstars · 9 months

Text

• Previous Chapters • Sequel to Falling in Temptation • Avalon’s Masterlist

• 11th doctor x ofc

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel @stareyedplanet @gloryekaterina @lenonizi @foxesandmagic

If you’d like to be a part of this OC’s work/edits, let me know!

Disclaimer: This chapter’s plotline is from Doctor Who’s comic stories. Most of the dialogue is directly written from the comic. The plot is NOT mine.

"I cannot believe I am doing this," Avalon walked tiredly into the TARDIS, tossing her nurse's hat directly at the Doctor. It hit his cheek in the midst of his research on the monitor. "You owe me big time for making me do this!"

The Doctor picked up the nurse's hat off the floor and dusted it off with his fingers. "I think you look positively adorable." His remark was received with a deep frown. "Absolutely sexy?"

Avalon rolled her eyes. Clearly, no kind of compliment would lighten her mood. She detested the stupid nurse costume she was in and much more that she was working as a nurse in a retirement home. "I am a traveler, a mediocre writer—"

The Doctor scowled at the lowball self insult. "Avalon!"

"'—but I am not a nurse!" Avalon finished with a heavy huff. "Why can't we go pick up my grandfather who is an actual certified nurse!?" She stomped her way to the console up to the Doctor, demanding to hear a good answer from him.

"We already started this undercover mission," the Doctor pointed out, "And your grandparents are busy. Besides, I thought this could be a fun trip for the both of us."

Avalon's eyes narrowed. "How is this fun when I'm pretending to be a nurse in a retirement home where you're pretty sure people are being murdered?"

"It's interesting at the very least," the Doctor settled for his new description. "C'mon Ava, you've already been there three days and you've done a beautiful job blending in. Now I'll come in tomorrow and do my part to investigate."

"You mean go straight to the director and tell her what you think you know about her?"

"Absolutely!" The Doctor set the nurse hat back on Avalon's head, an admittedly difficult task given her unruly curls were being extra resistant. Avalon mentioned it took half a dozen pins to keep the hat in place.

Avalon swatted his hands away, effectively making the hat fall to the floor again. "I will do any other kind of UC job but not as a nurse. I don't like it."

"Next time," the Doctor promised her. She grumbled. "How about I draw you a nice bath?" His hands threaded down Avalon's hair. "I can get you those sweet lavender scented soaps and shampoos you love so much?"

"You mean the ones you love so much?" Avalon raised an eyebrow.

The Doctor smiled ever so innocently. "Me? I don't recall, but if you really need my help—"

Avalon's brow furrowed. "I didn't say I needed your help—"

"—then I will of course assist you however I can," the Doctor finished with an even wider smile, more like a grin.

Avalon wouldn't even pretend to be by these antics anymore. After a couple decades, she got too tired. "Yeah, alright," she shrugged.

The Doctor beamed. That had been far too easy!

"But I will need a massage, and a face mask..." Avalon started listing her demands as she headed for the corridors, the Doctor right on her trail.

"Anything you want, love," the Doctor promised, grabbing Avalon by the waist for a moment to kiss the crook of her neck. She smiled to herself. He was much too easy to work.

~ 0 ~

The next morning, Avalon begrudgingly returned to the retirement home just like they planned. This was a ludicrous plan from the start given that it had not been their intention to get involved in the first place. But that's what happens when you're time traveling with your birth mother for "bring your daughter to work" day.

They had stumbled across a much older River Song — she wasn't even in prison anymore! She was Dr. River Song, archaeologist, and she and her team were excavating bodies 200 years from now of the very retirement home Avalon was now walking the hallways of. The issue turned out to be that every coffin was empty which meant that the patients dying right around these days were not being buried. It was a mystery that the Doctor couldn't let go of. So here they were, investigating on their own.

Avalon learned fast that she was not made to be a nurse like her grandfather. It was simply not her vocation. She had little patience for difficult people, she did not like to clean bedrooms, and she didn't like her boss either. At least when it comes to writing, I'm my own boss. However, there was one thing that made the place bearable and Avalon was heading right there.

She met the face of her favorite patient in the entire retirement home and immediately smiled. "Good morning Arthur! I brought you a cup of tea!"

The older man was lying on his bed and watching Avalon's every move. His thick eyebrows knitted together as his eyes squinted.

Avalon walked up to his bedside with a tray in hand. "It's me, Arthur. Nurse Reynolds? Avalon?"

"I'm sorry," Arthur awkwardly smiled back. "Nurse Reynolds…" The recognition glinted in his eyes after a moment and it was then that Avalon set the tray on the bed stand.

"It's alright," Avalon assured him, picking up the cup of tea from the tray. "Believe me, I know a thing or two about losing memories." She presented Arthur with the cup of tea. "No pressure, honest."

"You?" Arthur chuckled lightly. "But you're so young. Your memory's got to be in top shape."

Avalon set her hands on her hips for a moment. "Oh, you would not believe me but I am older than I look."

"Really?" Arthur leveled her with a disbelieving look.

Avalon nodded. "Aha!" She turned away, making her way up to the windows and opening the blinds to let the sunlight in. "I'm nearing 50 now. Had I been a normal human, I would've been wrinkly by now."

"Is that where you're from, then?" Arthur took a sip of his tea.

"I hadn't told you that?" Avalon watched the children below, all playing much too loudly for her taste.

"Uh, maybe you did, but I can't really remember," Arthur smiled apologetically.

"That's alright," Avalon dismissed it. "God, did you get some good sleep with those kids? They're so loud and it's not even nine!"

"I don't mind," Arthur said, "It's good to hear their laughter and games. It can get so quiet here sometimes."

"What—I'm not chatty enough?" Avalon swayed back to the bed. "I feel like I talk your ears off!"

Out of all the patients Avalon had met in the past days, she liked Arthur the best. He was such a sweet gentleman who suffered a form of dementia. He didn't have any family nor friends but he was still so talkative. He was the only patient who had thought to ask Avalon about herself. Everyone else tended to grumble.

"I like it," Arthur nodded, "It's been so long since somebody talked to me. Nobody visits me — well, nobody visits anyone here."

"Yes, I've noticed that," Avalon mumbled under her breath. Three days she had worked at the retirement and not once had she seen a visitor. There were plenty of patients here that would warrant at least one visitor, but nobody had showed up.

"What story do you have for me today?" Arthur curiously asked her.

Avalon's smile returned, a sweet one. She may have also told him several of her written stories as well as her adventures. It passed the long hours for both of them, and Arthur seemed to like them.

"I, uh, I had a bit of a quarrel with my husband," Avalon said, reaching to press Arthur's blanket down. "He's a bit childish, remember?"

Arthur nodded. His tea was half gone already. "He's a traveler, right?"

"Yes, we both are," Avalon reminded him, "I just chose to have a job for a bit...try to, um, set some roots." That was normal, right? She had no idea. Lately, she didn't really know what she wanted to do with her life besides traveling.

She was set on being a writer, at least on some level, but the idea of school was still troubling her. She was never indecisive about anything and yet this one thing bugged her for decades now. The pressure was just there — to do something — with her life. It seemed like Amy and Rory were finally learning how to do that, even Lena now. Avalon now faced a reality she didn't think would ever come: her family was okay, and safe, and now she could do whatever she wanted. It was an odd feeling this way, truthfully. Avalon didn't know what to do with it.

"Is he on a trip right now?" Arthur's question drew Avalon out of her thoughts.

"He was...he's supposed to be in today, actually," she said, "Going to pick me up." This all sounded so blatantly normal that it felt so weird for Avalon. She couldn't imagine having a regular job and having the Doctor waiting outside to "pick her up" after her shift. She almost laughed.

"What's his name, again? I think I forgot…" Arthur attempted to place his cup on the bed stand.

Avalon hurried to take it from him and do it herself. "No, I didn't tell you that. He's a, uh, a doctor. I think you'd be entertained with him."

"My Elsie was the same," Arthur said reminiscently.

"Your wife, right?" Avalon stepped away and put her hands behind her back.

Arthur nodded. "She was a light in every room. She told the best jokes." Avalon smiled at him. "Lost her to cancer years ago."

"I'm so sorry," Avalon sighed. "It must have been so terrible…"

"It was. I don't wish that kind of pain on anyone…" Arthur flashed Avalon a small smile, "Especially good, sweet people like you."

Avalon chuckled. "Well, thank you. Although, don't be fooled again, I'm not that sweet. My husband actually tells me that I have a nasty temper."

"Even then, I'm sure he would miss it greatly if you were gone," Arthur said, pointing a finger at Avalon. "And you would miss his childish ways if he were gone."

"Oh…" Avalon brought a hand to her chest, feeling it constrict at the mere idea of losing the Doctor, "No, I can't even talk about something like that. If I were to ever lose my husband, I think I would die myself."

"Unfortunately, those who remain suffer worse because we're still here...and they're not."

Avalon nodded slightly.

"Nurse Reynolds!" A gruff female nurse called from the open doorway, ignoring the way that Avalon flinched. "If you're quite finished you have duties to perform!"

Avalon could barely hold onto her tongue. She hated Nurse Frost. The name suited her perfectly.

"Of course," Avalon said through gritted teeth. "I will be right there."

"Now," Frost corrected.

Avalon looked at Arthur apologetically. "I'll be back later, Arthur. Would that be alright?"

"Of course," Arthur nodded, "Go, go. I'll be here, waiting for my story."

Avalon promised that she would come up with another story for him in the afternoon. She would follow Nurse Frost out and tend to the other patients, just like she had for the past 3 days.

~ 0 ~

It took very little to get into the retirement home. The Doctor knew it would've probably been easier to get Avalon like this as well but he was guilty of wanting to see her in that hot nurse outfit...and to get deeper information from the inside of course.

He treaded the hallway carefully, keeping an eye open for anything plain strange. Most of the doors on his sides were closed but the few that happened to be opened didn't allow for much view of the patients. Avalon said most patients tended to stay in bed and that seemed about right because there had only been a handful of patients walking the gardens outside.

It was almost as if they were encouraged to stay in their rooms, on their beds…waiting for something…

"Hello there," he startled the woman sitting in the office. She looked up from her dark rimmed glasses and scrutinized the unknown visitor. The Doctor could practically read the woman's thoughts: 'A visitor!?'. He was a novelty not because he was an alien but because he was visiting. That alone waved red flags.

"The name's John Smith…" the Doctor strode into the office waving the psychic paper around. "How are you!?"

The woman barely had a moment to look at the psychic paper before the Doctor stuffed it in his inside pocket. Next thing she knew, the Time Lord was taking a seat on her desk. "Excuse me–" she started, but the Doctor went ahead with his facade.

"And you're clearly the woman in charge of this place! Miss Bruce, isn't it?"

"I—" the woman blinked, "Yes, how do you know that?"

The Doctor pointed to the plaque sitting on the desk.

Miss Bruce flushed. "Right, right. Um, what exactly are you doing here?"

"Doing some investigation of course!" the Doctor hopped off the desk and started pacing in the office. "Because, tell me, bodies disappearing, people vanishing mysterioualy in the night – ring any bells?"

Miss Bruce's face fell grim. A deep crease marked her forehead.

"Wait!" the Doctor exclaimed, his hands flying in front of him, "I know exactly what you're going to say! You have no idea what I'm talking about and deny all knowledge, right?"

Miss Bruce was beginning to hate him by the minute.

"Which means, Miss Bruce, either you're extremely unobservant or you're the one who's trying to cover it up. Let's see, residents going missing from right under your nose – embarrassing! So what do you do?" the Doctor pretended to hum as he feigned thought of all the options Miss Bruce could have in the situation. "You arrange with the local undertakers to bury empty coffins in the churchyard down the road. No one need ever know what's really going on."

"I don't—"

"You're probably wondering how I know all this," the Doctor nodded to himself, bringing his hands behind his back, "Because I was there when one of the coffins was dug up by archaeologists! Well, my mother-in-law but that's another story for another day! But you should know that she was not happy and truth be told, neither was her daughter – my wife – because she was writing an article on it. Had to stop the whole thing."

It had not boded well for anybody in the group when the coffins turned out empty. River Song was finally getting to bring Avalon to some of her "work" and that happened to include one nefarious location that was about to be dug up. The Doctor felt bad for introducing the idea in the first place and see it go horribly wrong. Avalon had no article to submit to the university and because she had always written stories for them, she felt twice as bad. And when Avalon felt bad, the Doctor felt worse.

"So, you see, I've done some thinking, Miss Bruce," the Doctor 'tskd' at the woman who was still blinking widely at him, "And here's my other suppositions about this place. You only take in residents who don't have any friends nor relatives so that when their bodies eventually disappear, there's no one to miss them and most importantly to report them missing. Here's the good news, though," he leaned his hands on the desk, reaching forward until he was face to face with Miss Bruce, "I don't think you're responsible for the disappearances, just the cover up, because if you were responsible for the disappearances, you would've thrown me out by now."

In truth, miss Bruce was like a frozen statue and an unhappy one at that. She let out a heavy sigh, confirming everything the Doctor had just said. "Something else you want to add?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Two things. One: I'll be taking a walk and talk with some of the residents. Two: have you been allowing children into the grounds?"

That was the first time Miss Bruce appeared startled, almost offended. "You're clearly insane, Doctor Smith. There are no children on the premises. It's like you said, I don't admit any resident with families or friends."

~ 0 ~

Avalon followed Nurse Frost into an empty bedroom. If Avalon remembered correctly, it belonged to a patient named Margaret Webster. She was a sweet old woman but she barely talked. She had a fascination with stuffed birds that creeped Avalon out.

"Margaret passed away in her sleep last night," Nurse Frost informed as she turned the lights of the room on, "We need to clear it up for the next patient."

"What – but she passed away last night," Avalon blinked, staying right by the doorway while Nurse Frost started taking the sheets off the bed. "Shouldn't there be, I don't know, studies going on? Like the medical kind to make sure no foul play happened?"

Nurse Frost snorted. "What 'foul play', Reynolds? She passed away. These people here are very old, it happens."

"Still, where's her body?"

"The undertakers have already collected her mortal remains."

"Already?" Avalon made a face. "That's beyond quick!"

Nurse Frost flapped the sheet hard, gesturing for Avalon to come help already. The ginger reluctantly did.

"That isn't your concern nor your job! You're supposed to tidy away the effects of the decease—"

"For the family?"

"She had no family! When you're done here, refresh the sheets. This bed will have a new occupant by this evening!"

"This evening?" Avalon whispered to herself. It truly was beyond fast for a senior center.

"Stop repeating everything I say into a question!" Nurse Frost snapped, throwing the sheet down on the bed for Avalon to take. "And get to it already!" She headed for the door.

"Whatever you say, Cruella De'Vil," Avalon muttered with a roll of her eyes. With a sigh, she started taking in all the personal objects in the room, putting them neatly into boxes. She was slightly quicker with the stuffed birds so she wouldn't have to look at them nor feel their presence.

She stopped by a portrait of a young girl with long ponytails. Judging by the face, Avalon presumed it was Margaret as a child. "You look straight off the 1950s magazines," she chuckled to herself. She turned to bring the frame to the boxes when she came face to face with the same girl…in person. Avalon gasped deeply and let the frame in her hands fall.

The girl was stoic for a moment, not even the thud of the frame pulled her eyes off Avalon. The redhead, on the other hand, was breathing heavily.

"H-how are you here?"

The girl didn't response. Instead, she turned around and walked out the room.

"H-hey! Come back!" Avalon went after her. The girl walked pretty fast, forcing Avalon to pick up her pae as well. "Little girl! Seriously!" The girl made a turn on the corner and just as Avalon did the same, she crashed into Nurse Frost. "Woah!"

"What are you doing here?" Nurse Frost demanded.

"I was just – the girl – where's the girl!?" Avalon peered around Nurse Frost in search of the girl but she had disappeared.

"What are you talking about?" Nurse Frost looked at Avalon like she was crazy.

"The-the girl!" Avalon exclaimed, gesturing behind Nurse Frost. Of course, when the woman looked over her shoulder there was nothing there. Avalon was pointing at thin air.

Stop playing games!" Nurse Frost snapped. "We have a lot of work to do!"

"But I—!"

Nurse Frost seized Avalon's wrist and pulled her in the opposite direction. Avalon kept craning her neck as much as it allowed to see if she could spot the girl again. It truly was like the air had swallowed her up.

~ 0 ~

It took the Doctor a short half hour to find a patient to converse with. He was about the only one who wouldn't give the Doctor suspicious looks. It was always nice talking to someone inviting.

"A police box! That takes me back!" the elderly man gazed appreciatively at the TARDIS parked in the outer parts of the center's gardens. "I haven't seen one of these things in over 40 years! I used to be a bobby myself, just after the war…"

"Arthur, you were telling me about this boy with no face…" the Doctor gently reminded the man. It was the second time he had to nudge the conversations back to the prime topic. Arthur's mind sometimes went.

"Doctor, one of the other residents, a friend of mine, Bert, he said he saw the boy and then he died the next night!" Arthur said, letting out a shudder. "So if I'm seeing the boy now, it means that I'm next!"

"Nonsense," the Doctor waved it off, "You'll be around for a long while yet…probably. Now tell me about these children. You said they've only recently started coming here?"

Because off in the distance, there was a group of singing children dancing around the trees.

"Yes, but they don't like to get too close and…there's something wrong about them…" Arthur admitted.

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, "Their clothes for starters." The children were dressed as if they belonged to an earlier time period, perhaps the 50s if he had to be more accurate. "And no mobile phones or ipods. Just a bat and ball. Odd!"

The Doctor fixed his jacket up before approaching the group of children. As soon as they spotted him getting close, one girl with long pigtails grabbed a younger boy beside her and stepped in front of him.

"Oi Mister! What do you want?" the girl demanded.

The Doctor put on his best smile. "I'd just like to know who you are and why you're here."

"Can't say," the little boy said as he came around the girl, "Grown ups mustn't find out or they'll put a stop to our games!"

"Will they?" the Doctor went along with the boy's game, whatever it was.

"But don't worry, Arthur," the girl smiled at the older man, "You have nothing to fear. You'll be coming to play with us soon." The words had the opposite effect on poor Arthur. He stumbled back a few steps.

The Doctor didn't like the words either. He straightened up and quickly led Arthur away from the children. The elderly man seemed to be having chest pain.

"It's just indigestion," Arthur said, though clutching his chest contradicted his statement, "It comes and goes…"

As they neared the TARDIS, Avalon came running towards them. "Oh my God! There's a girl – I saw her! But that Nurse—" she growled abruptly. "Nurse Frost – she didn't see the girl so she didn't let me follow her! But there's a girl!"

"Well hello there, Nurse Reynolds!" the Doctor waved a hand, "I sense that you saw something strange?"

Avalon deadpanned him. Her hands fell on her hips. "I don't appreciate your sarcasm. I had to roll up sheets of a deceased older lady, so watch it or the next thing I roll up will be your dead body in a sheet!"

The Doctor just smiled in the face of a threat. "That's my wife, Arthur. Isn't she lovely?"

Arthur looked at Avalon — who seemed ready to seethe — and asked her if that was truly her husband.

"Unfortunately, yes," Avalon replied. "He thinks he's so funny but dead people can't be funny."

"Oh, calm down, Avalon," said the Doctor, "You'll be relieved to know that Nurse Frost can't see the child because there's a perception filter on the children."

"Not feeling very relieved here," Avalon said flatly. "And 'alien tech'?"

"Exactly. It's shielding the children and probably their hiding place as well, it's amazing what some people won't notice."

"You don't say. Well, I guess it's like the laundry closet," Avalon said, "People just walk by that room all the time. I hate doing laundry so I do the same thing but at least I can see it."

The Doctor smirked all of a sudden. "I really love you, wife."

"That's great but what did I do?"

"Let's go see that laundry room!"

"What – I don't want to do laundry!" Avalon groaned.

~ 0 ~

Avalon led both the Doctor and Arthur down the hallway towards the laundry room. She slowed her pace, however, when she saw Arthur was walking slower than normal.

"Arthur, really, if you're not feeling well, I can take you back to your room," she said, "Really. The Doctor can go on his own."

"Not a chance, Avalon," Arthur said sternly, "I haven't had this much excitement in years!"

Avalon chuckled. "Well, I can't argue with that sentiment. I'm a girl who loves excitement too. And adrenaline. Lots of it."

"Is that why your stories are simply the best?"

"Hm, if only you knew, Arthur," the Doctor started, "Most of those stories actually happened."

"What?" Arthur blinked. "That can't be!"

Avalon smirked over her shoulder. "Yeah, I don't behave so well sometimes."

"Sometimes!?" the Doctor snorted.

"Oh shush, you're not that better than me!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. He had plenty more to say but they reached the laundry room Avalon talked about. Using the sonic, he led the way inside and found not a laundry room but a huge spaceship-esque room instead.

"Woah…" Avalon breathed in at the sight, eyes wide and matching Arthur's as they both took in the sight, "Had I known this was inside, I would've gone in this laundry room a long time ago. Wouldn't mind washing clothes here."

The Doctor gave her a light push from behind, and exchanged smirks.

Arthur wandered towards one of the walls and noted the weblike structure going across it. There were large pods holding small creatures inside. "This looks like a nest..."

Avalon's head flipped in his direction and frowned. "It does. Doctor, why is there an alien nest hidden in the laundry room?"

"It's not a laundry room, dear," the Doctor said, "It's a nest."

"Yes, but why? And for what?"

"For me," went a new voice, and a gruff one at that.

The trio turned around to find Nurse Frost herself standing in front of them. A second later, the Nurse Frost was morphing into a huge, spiky alien creature with tentacles. "Analysis: you are a threat to the surrogates! All threats must be eliminated!"

"Uh, yeah," the Doctor put his sonic away fast, "We need to run! Now!"

"My husband, ever so smart!" Avalon shot him a mock glare.

"Oh, shut up and run!"

The pair started running back for the door but Avalon looked back to see Arthur struggling to move with them.

"Doctor!" she called and returned to Arthur.

"Engaging defensive weaponry!" the creature declared.

Red lasers shot forwards. Avalon covered her head as energy began striking around them. When she was able to lower her arms, she saw Arthur had collapsed on the floor.

"No!" she ran the remaining length and slid on the floor beside him. "Arthur!?" She checked for his heartbeat and was horrified to find none. "Doctor! He's dead!"

"Avalon, move away!" the Doctor exclaimed, trying to make a run towards her. The lasers were much too close to hitting her.

Avalon shook her head fervently. "No, no, no! Arthur!" She fell back from an electric force that enveloped Arthur's body. "NO!"

A dark haired boy was shooting the electrical current towards Arthur.

"Stop that!" Avalon demanded from the boy. Arthur's body was disappearing before her eyes. "I said STOP!" She scrambled to get up, intending on taking the boy herself when the Doctor arrived to pull her away. "No! No! Stop him! Look what he's doing!"

"I'm sorry but we can't touch him!" the Doctor had a tight hold around Avalon's waist. "He's gone, Avalon!"

"Literally!" Avalon cried as Arthur's body disappeared.

The little boy straightened up and marched up to the pair.

The Doctor set Avalon on her feet and stepped in front of her. "Alright now, you can stop," he warned the boy.

But the boy stopped in front of them then turned to face the creature. "Stop," it commanded, "The Doctor and Avalon are my friends."

"Well…that's unexpected," the Doctor blinked. Avalon wiped the tears from her face and stared at the boy, puzzled.

The creature froze in its tracks. "Doctor, Avalon – designated non-hostile," he repeated.

"You-you're in charge of that thing?" Avalon sniffed. "How the…you're a…I am so confused and tired…"

The Doctor reached over and rubbed her back comfortingly. She really needed her rest.

The boy turned around as did the creature, and smiled at Avalon. "It's me, Avalon. Arthur."

Avalon's eyes widened, as did the Doctor's. They both looked at each other, neither one sure whether to believe the boy.

"No, he was — you're just a—" Avalon rubbed the side of her head. "No, no, you're joking. You can't be Arthur."

The Doctor continued to study the boy and his uncertain self-examination. 'Arthur' kept looking at his hands and then put one over his head, eyes looking up as much as he could.

"Why am I so short now?" he asked.

"Oh dear," the Doctor breathed. It was Arthur, but he had no idea how he'd become a child. "Erm, that's...that's Arthur," he told Avalon.

"What!?"

"On the bright side, he's not dead."

"Doctor!"

The Doctor winced. "Yeah, alright." He cleared his throat and turned to the creature. "If we're non-hostile, then you can start giving us some answers. What's your function?"

"Designation. Vorlax regeneration drone. Function: to provide replacement bodies for infantry terminally compromised in conflict," the creature dutifully responded.

"Doctor – English, please?" Avalon said impatiently. Why couldn't one of their 'enemies' be simple and clear?

"It creates clones that absorb people's consciousnesses at the moment of death. It's brilliant, actually!"

"I don't know if that's the word I'd use for this," Avalon said, "It's not exactly asking for consent, is it?" Her eyes then fixated on the creature. "Technically speaking, Arthur is dead but his consciousness was copied and placed in a clone. Yeah, it's cheating death."

"Well," the Doctor fixed the collars of his jacket, "Can't really say anything there, can I?"

Avalon sighed. "No, I guess not." Her eyes flickered to the creature as well. "So why the hell are you posing as a nurse anyways?"

"Compromised by enemy fire. Teleport drive malfunction. Upon arrival in foreign terrain, activated camouflage protocol."

"And you decided being a bitchy nurse was the way to go?"

"Avalon," the Doctor said. He whipped out his sonic again and used it on the creature.

"And now, neither will you," the Doctor said gleefully. A bright light was taking over the creature from within. "I've repaired the Vorlax's teleport. Programmed it with a new destination and started the countdown for departure!"

"Where's it going to!?" Avalon asked.

"I'm sending it to an uninhabited garden world! Somewhere it can't cause any trouble!"

"Now wait a minute!" Avalon hurried in front of the Doctor, arms open wide on her sides. "That thing about consent – it should involve the rest of the residents! They should have the chance to choose what they want to happen to them and their home!"

"But – Avalon!" the Doctor groaned. He hated when she made sense. He stopped the process and lowered his sonic. "What do you want to do? Ask everybody?"

"Yes, why not?" Avalon raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't they deserve to make the choice? The choice that the others didn't get to make?"

The Doctor bobbed his head. "Yeah, I guess so."

"You should!" huffed Avalon. "Given the fact that you can regenerate, you should've thought about this first."

"You can allegedly regenerate too," the Doctor pointed out solely for the argument's sake. He never wanted to see his wife regenerate. "Alright, fine, let's gather them up and ask."

Avalon grinned and dropped her arms on her sides.

~ 0 ~

As soon as they left the now dozens of children in the new uninhabited planet, Avalon and the Doctor returned to the TARDIS for a much needed rest. Avalon was ecstatic that everyone in the nursing home had decided to run away and become children again – they were going to live a new life! That they chose! She of course took special interest in what little Arthur was going to do now. She might check up on him later in the future.

Much later in the evening, now in the TARDIS, Avalon bobbed her head in front of the bathroom mirror. Her voluminous red curls bounced with her. They were damp from her shower.

"Do you think if I regenerated, I could turn into a, I don't know, a teenager?" She walked into the bedroom and rolled her eyes at the sight of the Doctor lying on their bed, carelessly tossing his sonic into the air relentlessly.

"Why on Earth would you ever want to go back to being a teenager?" the Doctor shuddered. "Talk about awkward!"

"I don't know, maybe to see if this time things worked out in my favor?" shrugged Avalon. "That would be a good story, actually."

The Doctor caught his sonic and pointed it at Avalon, his face dead serious when he warned her: "You better not try to regenerate for the sake of a story."

Avalon smirked. "Don't tell me what to do, Fairy Tale Man. I might just do the opposite now."

The Doctor didn't like that joke on any level. He sat upright, putting his sonic away. "I mean it, Avalon. Your regeneration isn't exactly a stabilized thing. We don't know if you actually can regenerate, alright?"

Avalon shrugged again. "I'd have to find out at some point in my life. How long can you live in one body?" She walked up to the bed, climbing over it to sit beside the Doctor.

With a sigh, the Doctor answered her. "Your first body is always different. You live to a very old age – there's no exact number – but it can be your longest body if you take care of it."

"What about the last one?" Avalon asked quietly.

The Doctor's head lowered. "Like the first one. You can live long as long as you take care of it."

"Really? You're not just telling me that?"

"No."

Avalon scooted closer to the Doctor, bringing one arm over his shoulder and leaning her chin on top. "Good, because when you go…I go too."

"Don't," the Doctor warned her again.

"Well, what would you do if I died? Or if I just couldn't regenerate?"

"I'd die with you, but…that's different," the Doctor said, prompting a hard scoff from Avalon.

"How?"

The Doctor sighed. He moved his shoulder until Avalon pulled her arm from him. "You really want to know?"

"If there's an actual answer behind that other than hypocrisy? Yes, I do," Avalon said, sitting on her knees and promptly waiting for said explanation.

"Fine," the Doctor shifted his body to face Avalon, "If you were to die – which you won't – then I'd have nothing again. I've lived for a very long time, Ava. I know what it's like to be truly alone for ages. The darkness that rears its head around is one that I don't want to face again, not when I've lived such wonderful, amazing years with you."

As touched as Avalon was, and she was, she couldn't fathom the idea of letting him simply die with her. It actually hurt her heart to even think about it. "But you could still have centuries to live after, to find somebody new!"

The Doctor shook his head. "I wouldn't. I know I wouldn't because I've already been everywhere before you. I know what's out there and I'm not interested. But if I were to die, I'd want to you to keep going. You haven't seen a quarter of what I've seen already. You haven't lived like I have. I don't want you to waste your precious years – your regenerations – on me because you deserve to live your years. Centuries. You're an aspiring writer, a traveler, and you have too much to look forward to."

Avalon smiled softly at him. "I appreciate the sentiment but what makes you think that I'd want to do any of that stuff if you're not around?"

"You'd have to," the Doctor said simply, "Because your family wouldn't let you do anything else." He reached for her body, tugging her closer until he brought her down on the bed beside her. He interlaced their hands between them. "That's the difference. For better or for worse, that's it."

"Well, it sucks then because it's not fair," Avalon said, shaking her head, "I'm 50 years old…"

"And I'm 1400, talk about an age gap," the Doctor smiled at her. "But see? You've got so much to do, with or without me."

"I choose with you," Avalon said cleverly, snuggling up to him. She simply couldn't imagine a world where she didn't live with her husband.

It just couldn't happen.

~0~

A few hours ago.

All the new children waved happily at the TARDIS as it disappeared. One brunette girl with pigtails especially liked the dematerialization process.

"It's like magic, huh Arthur?" She looked around for her friend but didn't see him right away. "Arthur?"

The TARDIS had completely disappeared now.

The same girl started looking around more carefully as the other children walked away from the area. "Arthur? Arthur, where are you!?" It was like Arthur had disappeared into thin air. "ARTHUR!"

From a distance, a girl with long black hair smirked. Chiyoko loved seeing history unfold itself. One more to check off the list.

#ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fd: doctor who #doctor who #doctor who fics #11th doctor #11th doctor fics #11th doctor imagines #11th doctor x oc #doctor who imagines #dw #dw fics #dw imagines #doctor who fanfiction #oc: avalon reynolds #fic: written in the stars

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headcanonsandmore · 1 year

Text

All You Ever Wanted

Summary: Tegan Jovanka thought she would never be able to see Nyssa of Traken again. But the future has a way of turning out differently to how you expect...

Read on FFN. Read on AO3.

~~~~~~~

‘Stupid bloody machine!’

Tegan Jovanka was not having a good day. The Doctor and Turlough had run off into danger as per usual, leaving her to pick the pieces. The Doctor had told her to reactivate a piece of technology from the TARDIS workshop; it looked almost like a bicycle, except with added panels.

Oh, and it didn’t work, either.

The Doctor had said that, once she had got it going, the technology contained within it would integrate with the rest of the TARDIS and run diagnostics on the alien egg that the Doctor had brought back from their initial foray onto the surface of the world outside.

Well, the Doctor had been captured by the palace guards and Turlough had disappeared off to goodness knew where, so Tegan was the only one who could do this.

And, like with everything the Doctor told her to do, Tegan found herself wondering if he’d just suggested it so she’d stop yelling at him.

The pedal of the machine swung round, hitting the front of Tegan’s leg and leaving a small gash.

‘Rabbits!’

Suddenly, the machine whirred into life. The seat changed to be the correct size for her, and the pedals changed direction entirely.

The monitor of the TARDIS, set up nearby, flickered into life. It seemed to be playing footage of someone setting up the machine. A young woman with bushy hair, wearing a dark maroon jumpsuit.

Tegan’s heart seemed to break.

It was Nyssa.

‘That’s what she would say,’ Nyssa was saying, as she worked the levers of the machine. ‘I never understood Earth curse-words, but that was one that Tegan used a lot...’

Nyssa’s face suddenly creased, and Tegan was stunned to see a tear slide down the Trakenite’s cheek.

‘Oh, Tegan…’ Nyssa said, beginning to gently sob. ‘I know she wanted to go back to Heathrow but… we didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. And now she’s gone…’

The screen blinked off.

Tegan stared at the now dark monitor before reaching up to wipe a tear from her eye. She wasn’t normally in the habit of crying, but Nyssa had always had a habit of being her weakness. Not that she cared; if anyone had a right to make Tegan vulnerable, it was Nyssa. The woman she had loved from the first moment they had met; from the moment Tegan had clapped eyes on her in Logopolis, she had been well-and-truly gone for the last daughter of Traken.

She swore to herself -there and then- that if she ever was lucky enough to find Nyssa again, she would tell her that she loved her.

-Four decades later-

Tegan smiled. She had to admit, she had been doubtful about the idea of a support group for friends of the Doctor when Graham had initially suggested it. But, now that she was here, she saw how much of a good thing it could be. Granted, she had already known Ace through U.N.I.T but there was something rather wonderful about meeting so many other people who had been through the same sorts of experiences as she had.

That whole business with the Master attacking Earth had happened several weeks ago, and U.N.I.T was starting up its new new headquarters. Tegan was technically still a freelancer, as was Ace. And Yaz.

Poor Yaz.

The young woman had clearly been in love with the most recent version of the Doctor. Tegan wasn’t sure what had happened to them but, from the scarce bits of detail Yaz had provided, that version of the Doctor had been at the point of regenerating when they had dropped Yaz off outside the community hall.

Tegan could tell that Yaz was putting on a brave face. But, when Yaz had walked in with Graham and Dan, the look of pain and barely disguised grief had been there under the surface.

Tegan had shared a look with Ace, who had nodded at her in understanding. While the support group was there for all of them, they all needed to be there for Yaz in particular. She needed to know that someone could have a fulfilling life after travelling with the Doctor.

After the meeting had concluded, Tegan was in the kitchen of the community hall, along with Ace.

‘I think that went well,’ Ace said, cheerfully. ‘Nice to meet more people who’ve been through the same stuff as us, eh.’

‘Yeah,’ Tegan said. ‘Although I still think the Doctor could have graced us with a visit.’

‘You know fully well they wouldn’t do that because of Yaz.’

‘Hmm,’ Tegan muttered, taking a sip of tea. ‘That’s their excuse.’

‘Someone mention the Doctor?’

A man, roughly a decade older than Tegan, had poked his head through the door. He was tall, with an amiable face, long sideburns and an easy smile.

‘Mister Benton?’ Tegan asked, putting her cup of tea down. ‘Good grief, talk about a blast from the past!’

Benton grinned and crossed the room, shaking hands with both of them.

‘Sorry I couldn’t make it here earlier for the meeting,’ he said. ‘I was looking after the grandkids today.’

‘How have you been?’ Tegan said. ‘The last I saw you was… what, the early nineties?’

‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘Kate sent a car for me today; weird, considering I used to help babysit her back in the day. But that’s the passage of time for you.’

Ace chuckled, grinning.

‘Fancy a cuppa, Benton?’ she said. ‘We’ve got enough here to fuel an army.’

Benton grinned and began helping them with drinks for everyone (mainly orange juice and a couple cups of tea). Tegan then lifted the large tray off the kitchen counter. She had expecting Benton to insist on carrying it, but he likely knew her too well.

It was at that moment that, from outside in the corridor, the voice of Kate Stewart talking on her phone drifted in.

‘Os, what do you mean, they just teleported in?’

Ace, Tegan and Benton shared a look. Ace darted over to the door and stuck her head out, throwing a quizzical look around the corner towards where Kate was presumably stood.

‘Okay, stand by,’ Kate continued. ‘I’m coming over. Good grief, that’s all we need right now; someone from off-world teleporting into a major London airport…’

‘What was that about?’ Ace asked.

‘There’s an incident over at Heathrow,’ Kate said, coming to stand in the doorway. ‘A woman, presumably from another planet, has teleported into the middle of Terminal One. Scared the baggage-handlers half to death. Border Force called us because the woman kept insisting on speaking to U.N.I.T.’

‘Wait, she knows about U.N.I.T?’ Ace replied, looking baffled. ‘How?’

‘Apparently, she met my father once,’ Kate said, slipping her phone into her pocket. ‘She used to travel with the Doctor.’

‘Really?’ Benton said. ‘Maybe Tegan knows her.’

‘I would imagine so. Apparently, her name is Nyssa of Traken-’

CRASH!

Ace, Benton and Kate spun round.

Tegan had dropped the tray. Her eyes wide, her mouth open, the Australian ignored the rapidly growing pool of tea and orange juice spreading across the floor, and stormed towards Kate.

‘Take. Me. There.’

‘So… what’s this all about?’

Ace turned to face Yaz. The two of them were sat in the back seat of Kate’s car. Benton was sat in the front, along with Kate, who was driving.

‘Nyssa used to travel with the Doctor back in the eighties. A while before my time.’

‘And she was… friends with Tegan?’

Ace looked over her shoulder at Tegan. The Australian was staring out of the window, face a mask of urgency. She hadn’t spoken a word since her outburst at Kate at the community hall. Which, for Tegan, was pretty unusual, to say the least.

‘That’s one way of putting it,’ Ace said, quietly, to Yaz. ‘They were… very close.’

Yaz nodded in understanding.

The car stopped, and everyone piled out, hurrying towards the main building of Terminal One. Sure enough, several U.N.I.T personnel were stood around the exits and entrances, consulting with the border staff.

Tegan followed the others into the building.

‘So,’ Kate said, as several officials hurried up to her. ‘Where’s this woman who keeps demanding to speak to a U.N.I.T official?’

‘Just through here,’ one of them replied, gesturing towards a group of U.N.I.T agents. ‘We thought it best to keep her under observation until you arrived.’

A woman emerged from behind the U.N.I.T agents. She was wearing a spacesuit of sorts, with the helmet missing. Her hair was long, bushy and starting to grey.

Tegan’s breath hitched in her throat.

It was Nyssa. The same kind smile, the same inquisitive eyes, the same porcelain skin and the same quiet resolve in her stride. Roughly forty years had passed, but Nyssa was much the same as she had been when they had parted ways on Terminus all those years ago.

Nyssa looked around at the assembled people, unsure of who each of them were. But her eyes then landed on Tegan, and the Australian felt her heartrate increase as she saw recognition in Nyssa’s eyes.

‘T-Tegan?’

‘N-Nyssa?’

Without thinking, Tegan ran forwards across the floor between them. At the same time, Nyssa began to do the same. It lasted barely a few seconds, but Tegan felt as if time was slowing to a crawl as they finally reached each other.

The two woman threw themselves at each other, their arms wrapping around each other in a protective hug.

‘Tegan…’ Nyssa’s voice whispered in the Australian’s ear. ‘Oh, Tegan…’

‘Nys… I got you, Nys…’

‘Oh, I’m missed you,’ Nyssa said, hugging Tegan tightly. ‘I-’

Nyssa stopped speaking because, at that moment, Tegan leaned forward and pressed their lips together.

The Trakenite remained rigid for a second, before leaning upwards into Tegan’s touch, one of her hands pressing into Tegan’s back while it’s brother wrapped into the back of Tegan’s hair so as to kiss her better. All other thoughts disappeared from Tegan’s brain; all that mattered was Nyssa-

‘Hem. Hem.’

The two women’s lips broke apart, their faces flushing. Tegan was suddenly very aware that the two of them were not, in fact, alone and were instead standing in the middle of a crowded airport. The same airport that had indirectly caused their first meeting all those years ago.

It was Benton who had coughed. The man was stood, rather awkwardly, next to the others.

‘I… I missed you too, Tegan,’ Nyssa said, her face a very pretty shade of pink as Tegan’s head turned back to her. ‘Although I wasn’t expecting such a… warm welcome.’

This was when Tegan’s carefully constructed wall of iron came crashing down around her ears. She burst into tears.

‘Nyssa…’ she sobbed, holding the startled woman close to her. ‘I’m sorry… I need to tell you… I wanted to… but with Terminus and everything… I never… I never stopped…’

‘Never stopped what, Tegan?’ Nyssa said, softly.

‘I… I love you, Nyssa,’ Tegan blubbered. ‘I’m sorry I never told you at the time, but I was so scared… I was a scared young woman in love with her best friend, and I know you probably think I’m being ridiculous but I just wanted to tell you-’

Without any warning, Tegan was swept off her feet, and Nyssa kissed her on the lips. It was arguably just as passionate as the first kiss, but with less urgency and more tenderness, as if Nyssa had been waiting for the opportunity and knew it was finally alright to do so.

Eventually, their lips parted.

‘Tegan, I love you too,’ Nyssa said, tears now trickling down her cheeks. ‘I always have.’

‘R-really?’

‘Of course, my darling.’

There was a sudden cheer, and both Tegan and Nyssa startled.

Ace was jumping up and down in excitement, a wide smile on her face. Kate was grinning to herself as she applauded. Yaz was smiling happily. Benton was clapping enthusiastically, a huge grin on his affable face.

‘A welcoming committee?’ Nyssa asked, turning back to Tegan.

‘Er, yeah,’ Tegan said, face burning red. ‘That’s Ace and Yaz; they both travelled with the Doctor after we did. Benton used to work with the Brigadier, and Kate is the Brigadier’s daughter.’

Nyssa smiled at the assembled people.

‘A pleasure to meet you all,’ she said. ‘You must all know the Doctor well.’

‘Understatement,’ Yaz said, a little wistfully. ‘Yeah, I just left her.’

Nyssa’s eyes widened in confusion as she turned back to Tegan.

‘Her?’

‘Long story,’ Tegan said. ‘We just saw her the other week, actually.’

‘You’ve been busy, then?’

Tegan chuckled.

‘Something like that. I would like to know one thing, though, Nyssa.’

‘Oh; what is it?’

‘Did you choose Heathrow to teleport to because I mentioned it so many times?’

Nyssa grinned, blushing prettily.

‘You know me too well.’

Tegan reached out and squeezed Nyssa’s hand.

‘Can’t help myself, love,’ she said, feeling the weight of four decades finally leave her shoulders. ‘Not when you’re involved.’

~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, everyone! Hope you enjoyed this fic; I thought this one might be suitable for the New Years celebrations, as it deals with the past and the future. Hope you all have a happy 2023!

#doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #tegan/nyssa #nyssa/tegan #tegan x nyssa #nyssa x tegan #indestructible #heathrow scientific #tegan jovanka #nyssa #nyssa of traken #yasmin khan #ace mcshane #sergeant benton #kate stewart #past yasmin khan/thirteenth doctor #fanfiction

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riversofmars · 2 years

Text

Songs Of Love - Day 17

Prompt: Love Letters

Rating: G

Summary: In the time that Liv and Helen spend apart, they realise just how much they miss each other. Trying to connect with each other and to feel a little bit less lonely, they start composing messaged for each other.

Until We Meet Again

“This is stupid, why do I even-” There was no answer to Liv’s complaint as the flat around her lay quiet. Tula was at work and Liv was alone with nothing to do. She was bored of the entertainment channels and it wasn’t like there was much else for her to do. She was largely dependent on Tula. She had no money of her own, no transport… Kaldor City wasn’t exactly the kind of place where you could get around on foot, not that she had anywhere to go either way. She had come to stay and build bridges with her sister but she hadn’t really considered what she would be doing the rest of the time when Tula was busy! Which was a lot.

So now, Liv was at a loss for what to do and inevitably her thoughts turned to the person she would usually spend her downtime with. A feeling of emptiness settled in her gut, of absence and of longing. Staying on Kaldor for a year had been a split-second decision, she hadn’t thought through what leaving the TARDIS - even just for a time - would entail.

Dear Helen ,

she wrote on the blank paper in front of her, despite knowing how ridiculous it was. For her friends only moments would pass if everything went according to plan. They would simply skip a year ahead and pick her up and carry on and not feel the passage of time in between, not like Liv herself would. But there were things she wanted to say, every day she thought of things she wanted to tell Helen about, and there wouldn’t be the time.

“Write them down,” had been Tula’s simple suggestion and Liv had scoffed into her breakfast.

“What? Like letters?” She asked, mouth full of cereal, and her older sister grimaced at her lack of table manners.

“Well, you are on holiday away from your friends so… yeah, why not?” She chose to forgo the confrontation and carry on the conversation. “If you feel like there are things you want to tell them, do. It must be strange not having them around.”

“It’s not like I could send them to them. No time will pass for them at all,” the med-tech pointed out, balancing her spoon on her finger like a bored toddler. In many ways she felt like one these days.

“Well, they don’t have to read them. You can do it for yourself as a way of… I don’t know… feeling close to them…” Tula shrugged before finishing the last of her morning coffee. She would have to get going.

“That’s… surprisingly insightful. Who are you and what have you done to my sister?” Liv narrowed her eyes at her sister playfully.

“Haha,” the overtech gave back sarcastically.

“Just seems like a waste of time,” Liv mumbled, feeling deflated. She really missed her friends a lot. They had become her family.

“Is it a waste of time if it makes you feel better?” Tula countered, giving her a compassionate look. “Besides, you can always give them to them later. As a collection of works or something.”

“Hm,” her sister huffed, clearly unconvinced.

“Don’t sulk, it was only a suggestion,” the overtech waved the issue off and grabbed her briefcase. “I need to go.”

“Have a good day,” Liv gave a wave with her spoon, still staring into her cereal thoughtfully, and Tula shook her head to herself but wished her a good day in return. Whether she would have one remained to be seen. And with that she left Liv alone with nothing but her thoughts.

Now, a good hour later that she had spent mulling over how to pass the time, she was staring at the page, empty except for the greeting to her best friend and her mind was as blank as the page. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had written a physical letter so it wasn’t as if she had the practice.

I miss you.

“This is stupid,” she groaned once more. What else was there to say? And yet, she looked at the words and contemplated their value and the simple truth they spoke.

I miss you. I miss you more than I miss the Doctor and I don’t know why that is.

It was a good question. It was something she had been noticing more and more. Of course she missed the Doctor, they were the best of friends and yet… she missed Helen in an entirely different way. In a way that made her feel empty, made her feel a longing she had never felt before. No, that wasn’t entirely true, she had felt it before, she realised. When Helen had disappeared into the Vortex with the Eleven after stopping the Doom Coalition. Liv had been lying awake every night until they found her again, worry eating her up, making her toss and turn and inevitably hurry the Doctor along. Helen would never know it had been her bed Liv had been restless in, trying to feel closer to her.

Now, however, there was no need for anxiety or worry. Helen was just fine and taking a shortcut while Liv went the long way around. Now her longing for her had nothing to do with worry for her safety, it was entirely selfish. She simply wanted her close.

I miss talking to you.

Liv grimaced at how non-specific that was.

I miss talking to you. I miss the sound of your voice and how passionate you are when you talk about the things you care about.

That made more sense, she decided, and was undoubtedly true. Seeing the world through Helen’s eyes, sharing in her perception of things and learning her viewpoint had been one of the greatest joys of Liv’s life. She was experiencing the universe in an entirely different way now. Her outlook had been so gloomy. So many bad things had happened to her… but Helen had such unbridled enthusiasm, such curiosity for everything, such joy and kindness and she had brought all those things into her life. She felt their absence almost as keenly as that of the linguist.

I miss the expression on your face when we go someplace new. I miss walking around the TARDIS with you and discovering more of her secrets. I miss laughing with you. I miss the cups of tea you make.

She scratched out the last part. It sounded stupid. It wasn’t like she would ever let Helen read it anyway. It was just for her. Tula was right, it did make her feel better, it made her feel closer to her… and perhaps it would help her finally put into words what she had started feeling for her best friend. Because if she could learn how to express them, then maybe she would be able to tell her the next time she saw her.

Until then, she would keep writing, she decided, and keep naming all the things she missed about her. It would be a long list… but she had all year. And maybe, by the end of it, she would be able to figure out exactly the reasons why she had fallen so deeply in love with her.

---

I miss holding your hand when we run from danger. I miss your laugh. I miss you poking fun at me when I make a mess of the kitchen. I miss the light you brought into my life. I miss sharing my life with you.

Helen stopped reading and folded up the handwritten pages as she feared her tears would make the ink run. She hugged the sheets of paper to her chest and drew a deep breath, gathering herself and her thoughts. She couldn’t count the times she had read these words. She knew them by heart now. Liv’s scrawny handwriting had burned itself into her memory. She noticed and memorised all the small variations, the subtle changes… she could tell where she had stopped and where she had picked back up, she imagined how much time had passed between every line, what had happened on Kaldor on any given day to prompt her to write about the things she was missing.

A sob broke from her throat, unbidden and pointless. There was no-one to hear it and take pity on her, except perhaps the TARDIS, but there was only so much the space and time ship could do. She gave a low hum and Helen took some comfort from her concern. She wasn’t entirely alone, the TARDIS had done her best to look after her but in the same way as Liv had had Tula, it wasn’t enough to stop her from missing the things she didn’t have. The person she longed to spend every moment of her life with,the one who had left a gaping wound with her absence.

Helen placed the pages on the console and pulled up a chair as her back wasn’t what it used to be. Spending her life crouched over desks had left a mark. Her hands found the controls she needed instantly. She had carried out the same action so many times, it had become second nature. A screen flicked on to her right hand side and reflected her picture to show it was recording. The linguist frowned. She looked even more tired than last time. The lines on her face furrowed deeper. Her hair had been grey for a long time now but somehow it looked duller today, less… alive. Perhaps it had something to do with how pale she looked, she considered, or maybe all of it was just a symptom of an underlying, incurable condition: old age. They were signposts along the way, announcing she didn’t have far to go. Hopefully she could finish her quest before the end of her journey.

She took a deep breath, trying her best to ignore how quickly she became out of breath these days, and focused on the task at hand. Her eyes fell onto the pages on the console and she smiled, recalling the image of her best friend in her mind: a memory even forty years couldn’t take away from her. Liv Chenka, laughing, smiling and listening intently as the linguist started speaking.

“I think this might be my last entry…” She gave a sad smile. “I miss you Liv. I know I tell you every time but I do, still, after forty years… I have spent more of my life missing you than anything else I’ve ever done… I wish I could say there are other things I will do with my life but I’m beginning to think that that won’t be possible… Because the likelihood is, Liv, by this point… I won’t have much of a life left when I get back to you and I’m… I’m ever so sorry about that.”

Most of her entries had been recounts of her days, of the places she had been and the things she had tried and how she would improve on them tomorrow. But there wasn’t much to be said about that now. She had a plan, one last attempt that she felt confident about, but suddenly, talking about her progress didn’t feel as important. There were other things she had to say as she considered the nature of the life she had had.

“I-I wanted to share it with you. All of it. I hadn’t planned on growing old here, alone, still unable to get back to you. But I hope that… maybe through these messages, through… I don’t even know what this is, a diary? Maybe you can… I mean, I hope you will, one day, take the time to listen. I know there is a lot of it but a lot of time has passed.”

In many ways, these messages had been what kept her sane. Imagining talking to Liv had kept her going, had made her feel closer to her, as she imagined and hoped it had made Liv feel when she had put her thoughts to paper during her year on Kaldor. Helen smiled at the irony of it. It was so very unfair to think that two that longed to be together as much as they evidently did had been cursed with years apart. Age had given her understanding and perspective. She now understood what the feelings she had for her meant. She had been young and naive at the time, unable to figure them and herself out, but now that she feared it was all too late, she understood.

“A lot has changed, I have changed… but some things haven’t, not one bit. Like your room here. I have left it just the way it was so I could go in and feel a little closer to you. The TARDIS hasn’t changed much at all actually, which is nice and familiar. She’s been a good friend to me… What hasn’t changed is my determination to find Nicholas and save you. I know I will do it, if it’s the last thing I do - which, let’s be honest, it might be.”

She gave a sad, almost bitter laugh and spared a moment to consider the cruelty of the universe but only until more important matters refocused her mind. As the TARDIS landed and she hoped she might have finally reached her destination, Helen declared the things she wished she had understood a lifetime ago:

“And what hasn’t changed - and never will change - are my feelings for you. I don’t know if I will ever get the chance to say this or if you will ever hear this message but: I love you, Liv. I have loved you for such a long time. A lifetime. And I always will.”

Liv’s vision blurred when the recording finished playing and froze on Helen’s aged and yet somehow radiant expression as she spoke of her love for her. The console room went silent and instantly the med-tech regretted her thoughts of leaving. Playing the recording must have been the TARDIS’s way of putting her back in her place and it had done just that. No matter how bad things were with the Eleven around, she couldn’t go through being without Helen again. And it seemed neither could her friend be without her.

The med-tech was at a loss for words. She had often wondered how Helen had made it through the forty years of travelling alone, what had kept her sane through it, but this was not what she had expected to find. She wondered if Helen would ever have shown her these recordings of her own volition. She couldn’t blame her for keeping them to herself, she had done the same with her letters after returning from her year on Kaldor, but it seemed in both cases the TARDIS had intervened to deliver their messages when the other most needed them.

After another argument with the Doctor and the Eleven who were currently finishing each other’s sentences in the engine room, Liv had marched into the console room. Impulsively she had intended to simply open the door and walk out but the TARDIS hadn’t let her. Instead she had reminded her that she never would forgive herself if she did. And now, the med-tech stood rooted to the spot in the eye of a storm of emotions that raged around her. Sorrow and regret as she considered the ordeal Helen had been through. Guilt that she had even considered inflicting such pain on them both again. And despite the heartbreak and the miserable situation they were in at present, there was joy and wonder too, as she realised Helen shared the feeling she harboured for her.

“Liv?”

Helen’s tentative voice behind her startled her and she looked around. Liv wasn’t sure what had made her come here, just at the right time, but she could only presume the TARDIS had something to do with it.

The linguist looked past her friend and found the image of herself on the screen, a sight she had grown accustomed to over forty years of practice, but she hadn’t expected to see it again. Not here, not now.

“What- when did you record that?” Liv asked into the silence.

”I’ve been recording them most days through my journey just for something to do, on the off-chance I wouldn’t- that was probably the last entry,” Helen answered and surprised herself with how collected she was. It was no use. If Liv had watched the entry, she already knew. There was nothing to do now, nothing to say, just to wait and see how the chips fell.

“Yes…” Liv gave a soft smile and a nod, then asked: “But what was that?”

“The same thing this is,” Helen offered and pulled Liv’s letters from her pocket. She always carried them with her.

“Where did you-” The med-tech was surprised, she hadn’t even realised the letters were missing, she hadn’t so much as looked at them since returning from Kaldor, so she hadn’t had the opportunity to miss them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go searching. I was feeling lonely so I went into your room… I promise, I didn’t go through your things, I just… lay down on your bed and slept there… I found these under your pillow,” Helen felt the need to explain, she dropped her gaze and hoped she could forgive the invasion of her privacy.

“It’s fine…” Liv answered softly and it really was. She wasn’t sure she would have had the words to say what she wanted to but if Helen had read them already, there was no need for words at all. “So what do you think they are?” She asked slowly as she considered the nature of their confessionals, their messages that had kept them both going.

“Love letters,” Helen observed simply with the wisdom she had gained in forty years. She knew hers had been messages of love and she chose to consider Liv’s letters the same. She chose hope over doubt and was rewarded for it.

The med-tech smiled in response and took a step closer.

“Would it be alright if I kissed you?” She requested softly as she saw no more need for words, they had spent them all on baring their hearts. It was finally time to act.

“Please,” Helen nodded and met her halfway. Liv grasped her face and Helen her shoulders and years of heartache were erased in an instant. Their doubts had long since been washed away in their waterfalls of words, leaving nothing but the pure knowledge of what their feelings meant. There was nothing left to figure out, other than how their bodies best fit together as they met in the blissful conclusion of their painful journey.

They kissed until they needed air, then rested their heads together with only their heartbeats in their ears. Nothing needed saying, except - Liv realised - the thing she hadn’t been brave enough to write but Helen had said already:

“I love you too, Helen.”

And the rest was silence.

#Doctor Who #fanfiction #liv chenka #helen sinclair #femslash #liv x helen #tula chenka #fluff #mild angst #feelings realisation

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leoswritingcorner · 2 years

Text

SW October Prompts Day 6: Senator

ft cool sexy funky fresh senators lucky, patience and betty

R3TT’s mechanical growls alert Lucky to the presence at her door before there's a reluctant knock. R3TT lets out a short bark, quieting at Lucky’s hush. The GV/3 droid makes a whirl that sounds something akin to a huff, as it circles and lays down.

Shaking her head, Lucky looks back to datapad, her eyes picking up where she has left off with her newly drafted bill. It only needed just a few more final touches before today’s meeting in the evening. R3TT growls again when another knock comes, this time, more persistent. “Yes?” Lucky calls, typing the necessary changes to the bill.

“Senator Day,” Comes the voice of one of the senate guards. “The meeting…”

Lucky takes a quick glance at her clock, worrying for a moment she had let the time slip away from her. Relief fills her when she sees she still has two solid hours to go. “Isn’t for a while,” Lucky says, setting the datapad down, and rolling her shoulders. How long has she been working on this exactly? She looks at the several empty cups of caf and tea that are littered across her desk, and then at the blanket splayed over the couch in her office.

That’s right, since yesterday, with three hours of sleep to balance it all.

“No, Senator,” The guard says impatiently. “It’s been moved up,”

Lucky’s fingers freeze mid-typing. Her green eyes shoot to the door. “I…the- the meeting…” she gets out, fumbling over her words. A stark contrast to her verbal fluidity in the Senate Rotunda. “It’s what?” She finally gets out, standing to her feet quickly.

“The meeting has been moved up, it’s in 15 minutes. Anyone who is tardy will have to present their bills next week”

Lucky is sure her blue skin has gone red. “What?” She gets out again, this time anger lining her voice rather than shock. “This is clearly harassment,” She snaps to herself, snatching up her items. None of her advisors were here yet. All believed the meeting would be later. If she didn’t present her bill, she wouldn’t get the chance till next week. She couldn’t afford that. Someone was pulling strings in the Senate. Again.

“Should I escort you?” The guard calls. Lucky doesn’t answer and makes a desperate search for her headpiece. She’s thankful she took a trip to the refresher and showered just hours before and got dressed. Yes, it always helped to be prepared. Especially with snakes in the Senate.

The charms of her headpiece chime as she dashes for the door, her dress swirling behind her. The guard looks at her as the door slides open, and the Pantoran senator all but storms out.

“I’ll be fine.” Lucky finally responds, shuffling her items around in her arms, making a mental inventory of everything. “Where are the Coruscant Guards?” She asks, heading down the corridor, glancing around, noticing the absence of the red armored troopers.

The senate guard snorts, following her at a distance. “Patrolling,” He says “don’t worry Senator Day, your Corrie clone will be happy to escort you back later,”

Lucky ignores him, the mocking tone in his voice agitating her nerves more than they were already. She pushes her feet to walk faster toward the designated entrance to her repulsorpod. Her eyes drift back to the datapad in her hands, and for a brief moment, the confidence she had in her work abate. Lucky quickly pushes the doubt away with a shake of her head. Well…maybe she could make a slight change to article 3, section 5…

A startled gasp leaves Lucky as rounds the corner and nearly meets head-on with Senator Patience. Lucky fumbles in catching the paper notes she had tucked in her arm. Patience catches the falling items, and Lucky sighs. “Oh, Senator Patience, thank you.” She says, taking the papers back. “I’m guessing you got the news of our early meeting late as well?” She asks, smoothing out her dress.

Patience makes an unimpressed sound. “Corruption in the senate rears its ugly head once more,” She states with a roll of her eyes. “Obviously a last-ditch attempt on the Trade Federation’s part to keep this war waging for as long as it can,” She points out, pulling her own datapad into her hands.

Despite her displeasure with how the day was turning, Lucky couldn’t help but smile at Patience’s words. She had always admired the Europa senator. Her speeches were always so moving and inspiring, always taking into consideration not just the Republic, but its people.

“Patience!”

The young women turn to see Patience's advisor Betty making a brisk beeline for them, pointing to a chronometer on her wrist. “We only have five more minutes,” She warns quickly. “Senator Day,” She greets politely, before taking Patience by the arm and whisking her off down the hall. Her blonde head whips back as she calls back. “Love the dress. Knock them out, Lucky!”

Lucky takes a deep breath, entering through the doors to her repulsorpod. Oh, she intended to.

If at all possible, Lucky’s mood has gone from bad to worse. Her legs ached from the countless hours of standing and pacing, and her throat was raw from her speech, and though she was met with booming agreement from her fellow senators, her bill was ultimately placed on the back burner.

The chancellor had made the suggestion to strengthen it and present it in the next senate meeting. She knew she could have made that change to article 3, section 5…

A ping from her datapad catches her attention. A chat from Patience waits for her on the screen

Patience: I thought you were wonderful. Your bill should have passed. They don’t see this war for what it is, only as a means to make money.

A rueful smile comes to Lucky as she types a hasty reply.

Lucky: Thank you. But if the chancellor wants a stronger bill. A stronger bill he’ll get. Wait till he and the senate see my new one. Something in regard to sentience and rights for some men who are a big part of this war.

Patience: Lucky Day, I must warn you, that will certainly upset some folks here. It may cause quite a scandal, too. Mind if I draft that up with you?

Lucky bites her lip and holds back a laugh, not even paying mind to the Chancellor’s closing speech.

Betty beams at them both, clapping her hands in applause. “You both were absolutely wonderful out there today.” She compliments Patience and Lucky as they wander back out to the hallways. “We should go out to dinner and celebrate,” She offers, walking between them.

“Celebrate our bills being practically rejected?” Patience asks, her brows rising in humor. Betty scoffs, waving a hand.

“Obviously, they scared someone enough they had to pull this stunt and see to it the voting was swayed.” Betty concurs with verity. Lucky and Patience share a look and smile. That was certainly one way of looking at it.

“I’ll have to pass, I have some more work to wrap up.” Patience declines with a shake of her head, stopping before her office. “Betty, why don’t you head home for Europa? I know it’s been a week that you’ve been here to help me to prepare.”

Lucky wishes she could go home to Pantora, for a moment she visualizes her family’s ranch and the wide marshlands. She sighs and nods. “I have work to do as well,” She says. Betty’s shoulders drop slightly but she nods.

“Next time, then we’ll actually celebrate because the bills will pass,” Betty says with a smile. The three give their farewells and hugs before parting ways.

The Senate can be so serene after dark, where the calamity of the day has ended and the countless have gone home. But sometimes, the shadows could play tricks. Lucky barely makes it down the hallway before leaning against the wall and tugging off her heels. A wisp in the shadows makes her squeak and freeze. Her wide eyes follow the moving silhouette as he heads toward Patience’s office. Leaning back, she spies the tall and strong form of a young man, his features become more apparent as the door to the office swishes open. It’s hard to mistake his clothing and robes for a Jedi’s. There are a few hushed words before he slips into Patience’s office. Lucky stands there wide-eyed, her hand flying to her mouth. Well, then. This was something entirely different for another day. Should Patience ever wish to speak about it.

When Lucky finally makes it to her office, R3TT is there to greet her with a happy mechanical bark. Lucky looks around the room, the flashing lights of Courscant's night life reflecting in. She wanders over to her desk, linking up her datapad to the computer.

“Well, R3TT…” She sighs. R3TT lifts its head to her questioningly. “It’s back to work,” She says, lacing her fingers, and cracking her knuckles.

Another long night.

#lucky day #patience #betty radcliff #yj and dd sw au #henry porter in SECRET but not really lmaoo #holla to romy for that spice Dang #absolutely no editing we post like men

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