#11th doctor fics

[saiilorstars]

When you lost all trust, don't worry. Someone is always by your side and that's your shadow.

​"Doctor, you might have to face it. That woman  — Grier — might be gone," Amy said cautiously while the Doctor pensively stared down at the console. Neither Amy nor Rory dared to go around the console to stand beside him, not yet. He was too upset. 

The Doctor raised his head, eyes following the Time Rotor go up and down. "She lost everything; her family, her home, her actual world. She got pulled into our world and I dragged her into my problems. She saved me from the Daleks, Amy. From there on, my enemies learned about her. What happened to her now was because of me. I didn’t find her in time and now look where she is?”

“But you’ve said it yourself, you can’t change the past for anything or anyone,” Amy said, growing slightly panicked the more she considered the implications of her own words. Rory too. “You-you said it could have catastrophic consequences.” 

“Doctor, this is your number one rule,” Rory said, “How far are you willing to go for a woman who’s already established she’s tried to kill you on multiple occasions and would do it again.”

The Doctor didn’t face either of his companions when he answered, and he answered almost immediately after Rory had asked the question. There was nothing to think about. There was never anything to think about when it came to Grier. “To hell and back, Rory.” Grier didn’t know it, but he would burn anything and anyone who got in his way. He would find Grier before her future was sealed. 

The Doctor would do everything in his hands to "save" Grier Cromwell, even if it cost him his last life.

Excerpt from Grier’s fic: A Moment in Time

Grier’s Masterlist

taglist: @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​ ​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​​​​ @gloryekaterina​​​​​ @foxesandmagic​​​​​​  @lenonizi​​​​​ @kmc1989​

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Unplanned Surprise (Doctor Who Drabble)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: You have an unplanned surprise to tell the Doctor about.

CW: reader is GN but is pregnant, so the afab body is specified

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

“I’m pregnant,” you said, taking the bullet head-on and finally confessing to the Doctor the thing that had been plaguing you for quite some time. Well, only a few weeks- but it felt like a very long time. 

You weren’t really sure what to expect from him, given that he was reasonably prone to unpredictability. Would he scream for joy? Would he cry? Would he send you away and never want to see you again? For once, the endless possibilities did not fill you with intrigue or confidence. 

“Pregnant?” The Doctor repeated dumbly, wriggling his fingers thoughtfully. “How did that happen?” 

His tone wasn’t upset, angry or joyous. It was just casual. He was being casual about this. Maybe it hadn’t quite sunk in yet? You blinked at him as the question actually registered. 

“H-how did that happen? Doctor, you know exactly how that happened,” you blustered, mouth agape. 

“Well, yes, conceptually, I know how you humans pro-create and conceive,” he broke off for a second, trying to think of the word. “Babies. But you and me?” The Doctor gestured between the both of you a little too aggressively. “Not the same species, remember? My ejaculate should not be able to impregnate you.” 

You were lost for words, blinking confusedly. You supposed that made sense, but then again, the three tests you’d done had all said you were pregnant, so it looked like there was a first time for everything. 

“Should have tested that theory a little better before engaging in your breeding kink then, hey,” you replied, picking at your nails. The Doctor practically choked on his tongue, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offence. 

“Excuse you, Petal,” he argued, “but I am quite certain that you enjoy being bred full of my cum- do you not?” 

You split into a cocky grin, knowing he was absolutely right. 

“That may be so, but the point remains that I am pregnant, and it’s definitely yours, Doctor.” 

The Doctor opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed that information. Then, he closed his mouth and split into the widest, most pleased grin you had ever seen from him. 

“You’re pregnant,” he all but shouted, hands outstretched in shock. He ran one hand through his hair. ‘You’re pregnant!” He shouted again, this time ending with a disbelieving giggle. 

“I am,” you confirmed, the Doctor’s grin infectious. 

You both let out a nervous laugh and then the Doctor had you scooped up into his arms and twirled you around. You laughed louder, holding onto him as he lifted you up and back down again. 

The Doctor slowed before wrapping you up in a tight hug as if to hold you close and never let you go. You breathed out, feeling content. 

Life was looking good. You were going to be parents. To a baby- a hybrid half-human-half-Time Lord baby but still!

“Parents,” the Doctor whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead and echoing your thoughts. “Almost unbelievable, isn’t it?”

You hummed, listening to both of his hearts beat in his chest. They were beating fast, telling you exactly how ecstatic the Doctor was about this news. 

“Completely insane,” you agreed with a soft nod. “I can’t wait.”

[undiscovered-horizon]

Eleventh Doctor x insecure/ anxious reader?

🫀REQUESTS ARE OPEN🫀 || Doctor Who-inspired playlist

"Cold feet" - 11th Doctor x Reader

SUMMARY: Funnily enough, after facing death and vicious aliens, it's small talk with strangers that gives you cold feet. Fortunately enough, you found yourself in the company of an expert on running away.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.9k

A/N: As an anxious person I cannot be thankful enough for people in my life who casually roll with my anxiety and don't try to "fix" it with cheap advice

"Time Lord to human! Are you listening to me?"

The sudden yelling shook you awake. Only then did you realize you zoned out in the first place, letting Doctor's rushed words brush right by you. You looked at him only to see pure annoyance seeping from his expression. Although you never meant to hurt him, the guilt still gnawed at you.

"Sorry, missed the last bit," you explained yourself as you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. "What were you saying?"

Instead of repeating his scientific ramblings which definitely would have been a little too fast and complex for you to understand, he shifted his posture to rest his hands on his hips. You felt as if he had caught you red-handed doing something he had absolutely prohibited you from doing.

"Oi, what's going on with you? It's like you've lost your head."

You absentmindedly shook your head to dismiss his worry. "Yeah, sorry, it's no-"

"Are you in love?"

For a moment you couldn't get any sound to leave your mouth. "What?" It was a bizarre conclusion to jump to. You couldn't tell what on Earth could even get him that idea. "No, it's on-"

"Good for you!" he said as he clapped his hands. "Now, moving on. Focus, eyes on me."

"Look, it's just that I've got a..." you suspended your voice thinking of the right word to use. The Doctor stared at you with wide eyes, clearly awaiting the second part of the sentence. "Thing."

"A thing?" he repeated in confusion. It seemed as if with each of your words he only grew more offended at your misplaced attention.

"Yes, a thing." Out of all the words you could have used, your choice seemed to have fallen on the worst and least exhaustive one. "My friend, Ada, is throwing a party for some of her college friends but apart from me everyone invited is from her course, so she's going to be the only person I know there."

"And that's what you've been thinking about while I was explaining my clever, clever plan?"

The Doctor stared at you with closely knit eyebrows. In some way, he couldn't fathom how a party invitation could be in any way more interesting than him showing off his extraordinary intellect and creativity. Choosing between a college party and aliens should have been a lot easier than it truly was.

"It's not as simple as it sounds, you know?"

"Alright, then tell me." By his hand-flapping and surprisingly undivided attention, you couldn't tell whether he was growing more upset or actually wanted to hear about what was troubling you.

"Honestly, I don't want to go but it's important for Ada. Also, I haven't seen her in ages. On the other hand..." your voice drifted away. Now that you've started this little heart-to-heart, it was pointless to lie to the Doctor - if successful, fooling him wouldn't gain anything anyway. "It's a party full of strangers."

For a moment he stared at you in silence, visibly expecting you to elaborate but truthfully, there wasn't anything more to say. The hypothetical group of strangers, as faceless as they were, was already stressful enough, even without giving them imaginary traits or habits.

"Strangers, right," he said as he clasped his hands. The sound echoed throughout the console room. He looked away for a moment, basking in enlightenment, before looking back at you. "How exactly is that a problem?" he dwelled on the subject. It seemed as if the discomfort of a company of strangers was hardly conceivable.

"You wouldn't get it." You vaguely waved your hand at him in a dismissive manner. Maybe it was unfair towards him but you really couldn't imagine a scenario in which he doesn't throw in a sarcastic comment about your anxiety. "I mean, how could you? Socializing has never been a problem for you."

"How could it be? People, party, cake, dancing. I love dancing! Great times, nothing to be scared of."

"Yes, there is: small talk and thirty people I've never met. And that's only the beginning."

Even the mere mention of that situation made a cold shiver run down your spine. A flutter of anxiety in your chest brought an unpleasant, suffocating sensation. Unconsciously, your face contorted in a grimace.

"You just go up to them and talk, what's hard about that?"

"Everything!" you exclaimed as you made a broad movement with your hands. "It's just... I can't do that. I physically can't make myself go up to a stranger and ask how they're doing, I'd rather hit my head against a wall. I know the theory, the 'walking through a house' metaphor, it's just... I can't force my body to do that. And when I do find myself talking to a stranger, I want it to end immediately. And the silence! Oh God, the silence... Like when you ask them a question, they answer and then the silence. The awkward silence of my anxiety, lack of social skills and being a generally uninteresting person. Just a bit of quiet and everyone knows I'm weird, awkward and-"

"Hey, hey, stop it!" he scolded you in a whiny voice as if you were a child. "Don't say that. You're not awkward or weird, you're brilliant!"

"Thanks, that's nice of you but unfortunately, I am self-aware."

He may have known you for weeks but you've known yourself for decades.

"No, really." He refused to let go. If the Doctor was going to spout cliche pick-me-ups, he appeared exceptionally committed to the meaningless act. "You crossed the universe as it is wide and long. Fought aliens and risked your life because a toddler couldn't sleep at night. Blimey, you told a Sontaran with a bomb bigger than your head to piss off. And it's house party small talk that gives you cold feet?"

Contrary to his presumption, the context didn't give you any comfort or motivation - it only made you feel worse. If you really were as brave as he made it seem, why couldn't you just start a conversation with your friend's guests? By the measure of saving the universe multiple times, you should be more than capable to do so.

"I know it sounds ridiculous and I agree it's stupid but it's not the same. When we're saving worlds it's a mission, a puzzle to solve." You paused for a moment but by your expression, the Doctor could tell there was something else on your mind. "And I've got you," you added.

"Me?" he asked sheepishly. The Doctor vaguely pointed his finger at himself. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You make me a little braver. I mean, you don't look scared even when you are, so it gives me a little push. I feel a little less anxious when I know that you've got my back."

"So what do you do when I'm not there?"

"Bail," you answered with a shrug. Were you really the same person who criticized the fashion choices of an alien with more guns than limbs? "I rarely go but when I do, I just run off around midnight like Cinderella." You made a small pause when you lowered your gaze, avoiding the Doctor's face. "Honestly, it always makes me feel ashamed like I'm making myself miss out on something but it's either that or panicking in the bathroom."

A silence fell between you. The Doctor's typical hand flapping came to a strange halt as he continued to stare at you with an inexplicable expression. He would have agreed on your resemblance to Cinderella, your regent-esque charm and princess-like beauty but there seemed to be a matter more important at hand:

"Has that ever happened?"

His voice was surprisingly quiet, hesitant even as if he didn't want to actually know the answer. Maybe he wasn't sure he was ready for the responsibility the knowledge would bring. The Doctor's words were barely audible over the whirring and wheezing of the TARDIS's engineering.

"Which part?"

"Panicking in the bathroom."

"Yeah," you said quietly. Your gaze fell to the floor. Looking for some kind of comfort, you slowly rubbed your arm. "It was New Year at my friend's, didn't know anyone there except for him. At some point, I just needed to take a break from being around so many people. I sat in the bathroom wearing a silver sequin ballgown and fought back tears. Funny, I probably looked equally pathetic and great. The only thing I could think about was how rubbish I was at just hanging out with people and, you know, being a normal teen at a normal teen party filled with normal teens. I just..." you stopped yourself at the last moment possible. A heavy, defeated sigh left your lips before you continued in a voice barely above a whisper. "I just wish I was a little less anxious."

"You never said anything."

"Why would I? It's not something I'm exactly proud of." You let out a bitter chuckle as you answered him.

Suddenly you found yourself engulfed in a tight hug. The Doctor's arms were tightly wrapped around you, his slow but ragged breath brushing against your neck. Surprised at the unforeseen affection, you hesitantly reciprocated the embrace. The tweed of his jacket was slightly coarse, some strings were coming out of the seams. He always smelled like burnt wires and a second-hand bookshop. At first, that distinct fragrance wasn't exactly pleasant to you but with time it became a beacon of hope, comfort, adventure and a good laugh.

"Oh, you brilliant, clever you," he quietly said in a sad voice.

Then he stepped away from you just as swiftly and surprisingly as he hugged you in the first place. The first thing you noticed was the change in his facial expression: the Doctor was no longer annoyed or concerned but excited as if he had just come up with a perfect solution to some mind-boggling problem.

"Well then, good thing you're not going alone this time."

"I'm... not?"

"Yes! A plus-one. It's still a thing, right? I'm your plus-one."

"That's sweet of you but you really don't have to. I'm fine on my own," you assured him, although he had no reason to believe you after what you'd already told him.

"Change of plans, sweetheart!" he exclaimed as he pulled one of the many levers. The TARDIS was about to take flight and it was a little too late for arguments and second thoughts. "We're going together and when people become a little too much we attend to an emergency," he said while running between different parts of the flight console. As if he was dancing, he made a whole circle around the control switchboard and stood in front of you once again. The Doctor stuck his index finger in your face as if reprimanding you once more. "No panicking in the bathrooms."

"Wait, what emergency?" you asked as he was already taking directions to your hometown.

"You know, this very real emergency that can't wait and we have to take care of it at the very moment. The crisis that I definitely did not invent just now."

"Right..." you drew out your answer as you caught on to his ruse. A smile crept unto your face. "Time travellers, defenders of the universe. You can never know when you're needed. Any suspicions as to what the emergency is?"

"Laskos' fourth moon. There's that small waffle bar that might need an inspection."

[arting-block]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 | 11th Doctor x F!Reader

❝𝘪 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘳𝘦.❞

Summary: The Doctor doesn't need sex, just you

Warnings: Grinding, P in V sex, hints of sub!Doctor

Words: 1K

A/N: HAHAHA I'm back!! I had this scenario rotting in my brain and I needed to get it out. This does take place in Stranger in a Strange Land, but this fic can be read as a stand-alone!

The Doctor has no need for romance. Eons spent traveling the cosmos trying to save everyone from destruction leaves little room for trivial things. His need for sex is even lower. 

“Please,” a breathy whine, a slight gasp. The Doctor’s hands gripped the cloth of the bedsheets in hopes he could gain control of his erratic heaving. Everything’s too hot, too much. Despite the tops of his shirt being undone and his jacket laying on the floor, his bodily temperature keeps rising, “There’s people in the other room—”

His voice ended with a pitched cry as your fingers went to the zipper of his pants. Light pressure from your fingers sent his mind into a frenzy. A mix of cold dread and pure excitement pools in his chest all the way down. The Doctor could easily stop your hands. One word and you would step back. 

Sex isn’t important, he doesn’t crave it. Plenty of beautiful men and women have thrown themselves at his feet and he spared them no glance. From powerful queens to cheeky immortals. Hell, even his own companions have tried and ultimately failed to garner any carnal desire from him. 

The Doctor tightened his hold on the bed when you moved to hover above his lap. Your perfume invades his nose and your hand cups his burning face. He couldn’t help but stare helplessly at your face. Your beautiful, terrifying face. 

“Yet you don’t want me to stop,” it was a casual statement. No tremors or wavers in your voice; it was the truth. You place the palm of your hand on his flushed chest, sliding up and around the back of his neck, “I can taste your desire.”

He curses your ability to understand his body. How your hands ignite a path of fire wherever they caress. How your searing kiss to the tender spot on his neck makes him emit pathetic noise at the back of throat. How you press your clothed core on his lap and he jumps. His hands find the curve of your waist, pushing downwards for any relief to your cruel torture. He hates how your breathy laugh makes his pants tighter. 

“Please,” another whine.

Your smile shows no mercy, “Please what, Doctor?”

The way his name slips out of your mouth with a hint of cruelty, a dash of need, sends him in a spiral. You hands busy themselves with unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, making sure to trail your hands down his chest to his pelvis. The palms of your hands are cool against his flushed skin. He feels everything from the drumming of his two hearts to the slick accumulating on top of his pants. 

The Doctor doesn't need sex.

“I need you, love. Please—” your hips ground on him once more, nearly jumbling his speech “ —fuck me.”

Who were you to deny your beloved Doctor?

Grabbing his flushed face, you preoccupied his senses with the taste of your lips. The Doctor melted into you, eagerly meeting your kiss with equal vigor. His mind was close to blanking, something he never thought possible. It seemed the longer you indulged him the more dopamine seemed to numb his consciousness. 

You tangle into him until there’s no distinction from your body to his. Every gasp he emits makes you shiver. Every moan you slip makes The Doctor want to flip you over and show you how cruel you’ve been.

Pulling back, you take a look at The Doctor’s disheveled appearance. Pride swells in your chest seeing the almighty Doctor submit to your whims with just a kiss. The air tastes of his need and your spine tingles from The Doctor’s unspoken trust in you. A silent prayer; trust that you will alleviate the ache in his chest and underneath your lap. 

Sex was never something he needed. He can live without the intimacy of another. He’s done it for centuries so why not a century longer?

“Doctor,” your eyes close and brows furrow. The sound of your whine permeates the fog of his mind and zero in on the bliss on your face. 

The tension in your face relaxes and you allow yourself to give into the pleasure. The Doctor can't help but marvel at your expression. 

He can’t go a century longer. Not after meeting you—fucking you until neither of you can choke a sentence. The moment you allowed him to bury himself between your thighs, he knew sex wasn't something he craved. Sex in itself wasn't what he wanted.

No, what he wanted—needed—was you. How could he not? His body craves the love you pour into each drag of your finger. Your lingering kiss on his jaw that tingles for seconds after. A cheeky grin and a promise sealed with a wink. 

The sight of your undoing, all because of him is what he wants. Tossing your head back, screaming his name until you finally stop trembling. How you cling onto him like he’s the only solid thing in the world. 

Selfishly, he only wants your pleasure and nothing else. 

“I love this,” a hushed confession; a bright smile on your face, “I love you.”

Your words send fire into his blood. No matter how many times that phrase has been uttered, it still makes his two hearts stop. 

Air hits The Doctor’s length and you are delighted in the hiss he lets out. You move your soaked underwear to the side and allow The Doctor to buck his hips up. The head of his cock nudges your entrance and you have to bite down a groan.

“How do you want it, hm?” you dip close to his ear to ensure he never misses a word. Lining up his length towards your center, you delight in his stuttered breathing, “Slow and gentle?”

You dropped your hips downward and watched as The Doctor’s head tilted back, baring his throat to you. Your cunt stretches to accommodate the intrusion, but the pleasure it brings lights the fire in your stomach. Reaching for the back of The Doctor’s head, you force his head up.

Wild green eyes stare back at you. You imagined your expression is no different. 

“Or do you prefer I fuck you instead?” 

[gracesimp]

Who is he?

eleventh doctor x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n finds herself displaced in a different universe. There, she meets the doctor. One problem...He's already met her.

(part two to Who is she? But you don't need to read part one to understand.)

based on the 'reader hops through the doctors time stream' trope hehe - its my fav, what can i say?

Y/n landed with a harsh thump and the odd golden light that had encircled her body began dissipating almost immediately after.

"Blimey, my head." She groaned, groggily. But she didn't have much time to focus on her soon-to-be bruised body as her attention was shifted to her surroundings. Her eyes narrowed as she looked around, having no luck in finding anything familiar.

Y/n was cautious when she stood on her feet, and even more so when she crept around the corridor she had found herself in. Her steps halted at the sound of mixed voices. Still feeling a little nauseated, her hand clung onto the corner wall with a tight grip to keep her situated, while her head peered around as stealthily as she could master.

A tall man, dressed in tweed and a questionable bow tie, was flapping his arms around happily, conversing with an equally tall man and a redheaded woman.

The bow tie man hopped around a circular table, smiling wide and pressing buttons. She watched, uncertain at what to do, when his back suddenly tensed and his smile dropped a little, only to come back brighter than before. His head snapped up and he locked eyes on Y/n, making her audibly gasp. Her feet stuck to the ground and refused to move - despite her minds best persuading efforts.

"Y/n!" He yelled with glee, his own two legs running to her, arms opened wide, but slowing at the fear on her face. "Y/n?"

She gulped, feigning confidence as she demanded with force. "Who are you? How do you know who I am?"

And with those simple words, the Doctor's hearts broke. His lips parted slightly, attempting to release words, or even just a noise, but no sound could escape. Meanwhile his arms fell from the welcoming stance they had naturally taken.

Growing impatient; also ignoring the own erratic beat of her heart, Y/n crossed her arms across her chest and raised an unimpressed brow. "Well?" She prompted.

"Y/n," He began slowly, words spilling out in nothing more than a hushed whisper. "Please tell me you know who I am."

She observed him for a few seconds, her eyes raking down his strangely attired body before meeting his eyes once more. "Never seen you before in my life." She concluded.

A strangled noise pushed through his throat and came out of his mouth as he stared ar her, desperately clinging onto the hope that this was just a cruel trick. But when he looked into her eyes, he could see the utter confusion and perhaps a little bit of fear that he'd never seen in her before.

And when she looked into his, she was unable to see the sorrow which now roamed in the green.

"Doctor," The redhead called, hand wrapped tightly around the other man's as she dragged him to join the doctor and Y/n. "What's going on?"

The doctor stilled shortly, before allowing a small smile to grace his features. A smile that could now pass as genuine to Y/n, but only now that she hadn't the faintest idea of who he was. In the past, or her future, depending on how you look at it, Y/n would be the first to see through his tries at acting okay, and she'd offer comfort and love.

So now, when he concealed the pain he held with a tight lipped smile, and she didn't say a word, his hearts broke further.

As his hearts held so much love for her, but in her eyes, he was merely a stranger.

"Y/n, meet Amy." He said softly, hand gesturing to the woman. "And Rory."

"What do you mean?" Amy quizzed, Rory sporting the same puzzled expression as his wife. "We've already met. Tons of times."

"You have. But she hasn't." The Doctor vaguely explained.

Y/n huffed, squinting at the exchange before finally losing her tether and snapping. "Would someone, please, tell me what the hell is going on here? I just want to go home."

The Doctor rubbed a hand down his face, needing to think about how to articulate the words he was preparing to speak. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. But you're a long way away from home now."

Her head whipped to him fast, missing the sympathetic glances Amy and Rory shared. "What do you mean? How far?"

He sniffed, tilting his head to the side, his face also taken over by pity. "You've travelled to a different universe." He stated, words spoken soft as if to lessen the impact. "And travel between parallel worlds is impossible."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. "No, it's not!" She claimed, denying his words. "You just said I did it, so take me back."

"I can't. You're an exception. It should be impossible - even to this day I'm at a loss of how you managed it." Though he couldn't tell her, at that moment, how grateful he was that she did.

I did intend for this to be longer, but considering I haven't posted for a while, due to starting some medication that's making me a little bit drowsy for a while, I figured this would be okay :). First 11 fic. Hopefully more to come.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Bored In Captivity (River Song x reader)

Summary: getting kidnapped never bothered you as you knew it wouldn't take long for you to be found again

Warnings: mentioned violence (kidnappings, threats, guns, etc.), pretty sure that's it

A/N: I really wanted to write something with River and this is just some short little thing that I was able to come up with. I initially planned on The Doctor actually making an appearance in this since it was supposed to be a fairly obvious poly relationship between him, River, and the reader, but he got left out unfortunately 💔 so it's just implied to be one instead

Any time you went on a trip with The Doctor, there was always the chance of something bad happening and things going sideways fast.

Unfortunately, you were typically the most affected party, and had grown quite accustom to the occasional threats and kidnappings. At this point, if you didn't find yourself in danger at least once a week, then it wasn't a real adventure.

Even trips that were supposed to be nice and relaxing usually didn't stay that way for very long, what with the many power hungry maniacs littered across the universe.

Take now, for example. You were currently tied up in front of some alien dictator, two guards nearby so as to make sure you wouldn't try to escape. Yeah, as if.

You were forced to listen as he droned on and on about how foolish it was of you to step foot in his domain and how amusing it would be to make you watch as he got rid of The Doctor once and for all.

To be quite honest, it was all a bunch of blathering nonsense that you couldn't really make any sense of. You'd tuned him out about three paragraphs into his speech.

Something that did make you perk up, however, was the all too familiar swooshing sound of a certain police box, followed by a commotion that was heard going on out in the hallway. The two guards standing on either side of you glanced at each other uneasily, clearly not liking where this was headed.

The dictator, on the other hand, either ignored what he heard or was just too stupid to recognize the gravity of the situation. He kept talking, though he stopped when he noticed that neither you nor the guards were paying him any attention.

Before he could complain about how rude it was to ignore someone of his high ranking royalty, however, the door blasted open, and he was sent flying backwards by a sudden laser blast to the chest.

The guards both dropped their guns and ran, and you honestly couldn't blame them. After all, you'd hate to be in their position right now. You, on the other hand, had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Letting out a cough, you blinked a few times as your eyes started to adjust to the dust settling around the room.

Despite not being able to see very well, your hearing was near perfect, meaning you were able to pick up the two very distinct words that never failed to send a shiver down your spine and make your heart race (in a good way).

"Hello, sweetie," River purred in a soothing voice as she stepped over the fallen dictator's body, making her way over to you. "Let's get you out of those restraints, shall we?"

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

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[ghoulie-67-baby]

Tally- Doctor Who.

Summary: You’re running from the silence. You’ve been separated from the doctor and the Ponds and life seems to be slowly coming to an end. What if the madman doesn’t come to save you?

Warnings: Fear, pain, mentions of death, dehydration, exhaustion, pet names, mentions of hallucinations, crying.

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x GN!reader. (Platonic or otherwise.)

Word count: 1,151.

The rushing of blood echoed in my ears and my limbs ached with exhaustion. I had been running for god knows how long and I just seemed to get more lost. I allowed myself a break, falling to my knees in the fine, desert sand, chest heaving as I caught my breath. Dizzying pain ripped through my ribs from the stitch I had; I knew I couldn't stop for long. I didn't know what I was running from, but the fear that had acclimated forced me to run. Whatever it was, my body was in fight or flight and my senses told me it was something life-threatening.

An assortment of tally marks stained my skin, and though I knew I was the one who put them there, I couldn't remember why and that chilled me to the bone. The marker pen in my pocket seemed to dig into my flesh as my ears caught a gurgling sound behind me. My head turned slowly to face the noise as my hand grappled to pull the pen from my jeans as the creature came into view. My body felt as though it was sinking into the ground as I scrambled against the ground.

The wind seemed to pick up out of nowhere as it lumbered closer to me, kicking sand into the air around us. I groaned in pain as it blew into my eyes, blinking furiously.

My mind felt fuzzy as the sand finally cleared and I sat up, shaking my head to clear it before standing. My heart was beating a million miles an hour, but I didn't understand why. Fresh markings littered my skin and I stared at them, questions and fears rolling around in my head. My eyes watered as I scraped through my mind to work out what was happening but all I could work out was I was terrified and whatever I was terrified of was causing me to lose my memory.

I let out a few sobs as I fought off my panic before huffing out a long sigh. Now wasn't the time to break down, now was the time I needed to run and find someone who knew what was happening. I had to keep moving. I was in a desert with no food or water and was constantly moving. I wasn't stupid, I knew I had days to live in this condition and I didn't know how long I had been running for.

In the past hour, I had gained a total of 11 extra tallies despite the empty desert around me. My legs were barely holding me up, knees trembling with exertion but I forced myself to keep going. I longed for the wheezing of that beautiful blue box to fill the dry air, desperate to feel the cold metal of her interior on my scorched flesh. And that madman's voice to just tell me everything was okay, that he had fixed everything and I was safe but I had slowed to a stumble.

I didn't have the energy to run anymore and soon I would collapse, the sand would cover me and I would be forgotten to the world. There was no TARDIS on the horizon, no Doctor to save me and no Ponds to make me feel better.

Precious tears streamed down my face as my body gasped for breath, pain flaring through my body as my knees buckled beneath me. I didn't want to die, not like this and not in such a beautifully dangerous place but as hope drained from my body, I was slowly coming to terms with it.

"Y/N!" My head snapped up at the voice and my eyes zeroed in on the gorgeous blue monument ahead of me. "Don't give up, keep going," I scoffed at the hallucination of the Doctor, of course, it was him my dying brain would imagine. "You're nearly there now, Love." I clambered to my feet unsteadily, if I was going out then I might as well use every ounce of energy.

The sun glared into my eyes as I trudged along, feet slipping against mounds of sand. The TARDIS seemed to get closer and I had a horrible feeling that as soon as I reached her, I was going to die. She was like my light that people warned you not to walk into. So be it, I'd die happy if they were my afterlife.

"Nearly there, come on, you can do it." He coaxed me closer, holding open the door as I kicked up sand in my fight to reach him. I held my hand out towards the Timelord, his hallucination blurred by tears as I closed my eyes to welcome death.

But death never came. Instead, my hand was met with the calloused skin of another as fingers curled around my own. He was never a hallucination.

My eyes shot open as the hand pulled me forward, the familiar creaking of the TARDIS door behind me, as I all but fell into the police box and into waiting arms. The pen in my pocket clattered to the floor as I gripped the tweed jacket and buried my head against the time lord.

"I know, you're safe, Love, just breathe." My sobs echoed through the console as my body became overwhelmed with relief and pain, dragging me through a tidal wave of emotion.

I gasped as we sunk to the floor; pain, exhaustion, confusion, fear, relief, and happiness all at once. The chest beneath my head vibrated as softly spoken words carried me through the feelings.

"I've got you, you're safe," he whispered into my ear, my gasps settling to shuddering breaths. "I'm so sorry Y/N," my body leant against him bonelessly as his hand smoothed over my hair, the other rubbing gentle circles into my back. "That's it, good job, Love." Silence followed as I clung to him, the ambience of the TARDIS comforting me. After a few minutes, I tilted my head to look into those beautifully old eyes and smiled weakly.

"Knew you'd find me," I whispered, ignoring my hoarse throat. "Cutting a bit short weren't you." I teased, his green eyes glazed with tears as he smiled down at me, wiping my cheeks gently.

"We had some trouble," he chuckled, "Someone didn't want us to find you but I couldn't let that slide now could I? Not for one of my favourite humans eh?" I forced my arms to wrap around him, gripping the back of his jacket in a hug and buried my head in his neck as the past few days caught up with me.

I was safe now, my body had clocked on to that fact. I couldn't help how my eyes slipped closed as I relaxed into the Timelord's grip, finally letting my body and mind shut down to recover from the ordeal.

He would always save me, no matter what.

[newbie-whovian]

So sorry for this ask, but could you please do one for the Eleventh Doctor where the reader is on the autism spectrum and also has depression, and the Doctor discovers that the reader is really beginning to feel like she doesn’t belong on the TARDIS? The Doctor ends up confessing his love for her after the reader confesses that she doesn’t want to live anymore? Sorry if this doesn’t sound like something you’d like to write.

(so sorry for the wait! I'll be posting more consistently, I promise)

Stormclouds

Pairing: 11th Doctor x GN!Reader

Rating: T

Tags/TW: hurt/comfort, reader struggles with suicidal thoughts

You'd learned a long time ago that happiness was an exceedingly fickle thing.

Life had a habit, one that you'd noticed for years. It would tease you with something brilliant, something beautiful, and after long enough, when the clouds had finally parted, everything would fall apart. The thing that looked so beautiful from far away would suddenly feel far-fetched and even laughable, and the clouds would close in again.

:readmore:

When you met the Doctor, a voice from the back of your mind told you that you shouldn't accept his offer, that the universe would be treacherous and you would be better off on Earth. But the Doctor opened the TARDIS doors, and for a moment, everything was bright.

You travelled through space and time and it was everything you could have hoped for and more, until a trip went wrong.

The TARDIS materialized in the middle of a space battle, a massive dogfight with what had to be a thousand spaceships shooting at each other. The roar of the engines and the shriek of the blaster fire left you covering your ears and huddled in a chair, while the Doctor rushed around the console.

In an instant, he'd taken the TARDIS into the bridge of the command ship and rushed to the doors, sonic in hand. You followed him out of instinct, nearly falling to the floor as blaster fire rocked the ship. He began tearing apart a control panel, shoving piles of shredded wires into your arms.

In a few tense minutes, he'd disabled the command ship, sending out a signal (somehow) that deactivated the rest of the opposing fleet. You retreated inside the TARDIS as he (somehow) sorted out the rest, and the voice in the back of your mind returned, whispering that it'd been right all along.

There were trips after that, but those first few months of peace and calm had been a fluke, because for every one trip that turned out exactly as planned, there were at least five more trips that ended in disaster. You wondered if it was always like this, travelling with the Doctor, and you had to insist to yourself that it wasn't. But there was a feeling, creeping in and corroding each day - the feeling that everything was wrong and there was nothing you could do.

The universe was full of problems you couldn't solve, along with problems no one could solve, not even the Doctor. You were only one person, one human being, how could you do anything worthwhile? The feeling drowned out everything else.

The Doctor told you today that he had a wonderful trip planned, that the TARDIS was on its way to the largest forest in the universe, with trees hundreds of times taller than skyscrapers and bioluminescent birds.

You couldn't help but think that something would go wrong. When you were proved wrong and the TARDIS landed safely on a branch the size of a bridge, the feeling remained. Your mind was flooded with images of giant bloodthirsty hawks and venomous bugs, and you lamented that you couldn't even enjoy what the Doctor was trying to show you.

He tugged on his jacket and offered you a smile, gesturing to the doors. You returned his smile but it didn't quite reach your eyes. The two of you left the TARDIS to admire the forest, and if he'd noticed you were acting strangely, he didn't say anything. Deep down, you thanked him for it.

He began walking down the massive length of the branch, pointing out each bird he could see in the branches above and telling you what they were called. For a moment, you let yourself listen.

His voice turned into a hum in your ear as you continued to walk, staring down at the bark beneath your feet before stopping entirely. You took a deep breath that shuddered in your throat, and when he heard it, the Doctor stopped and turned to face you.

You looked up and saw the look on his face, and your heart plummeted in your chest. He looked concerned, not confounded or frustrated, but concerned. When he spoke your name, his voice was low and softer than you'd ever heard it.

He stepped closer and cupped your face in his hands, peering into your eyes. "What's the matter?" he asked. You tried to say something, anything, but your eyes started brimming with tears and your shaky exhale turned into a sob.

Your knees buckled underneath you and he held onto your elbow as you sunk to sit on the branch. Now that the dam had burst, tears streamed down your face and every breath you tried to take came with a hoarse cry. You couldn't remember the last time you'd cried like this, but instead of feeling cathartic, this felt like you were dying.

The Doctor tugged you to him, holding you in an enormous bear hug as you sobbed. He stroked your hair and spoke gently, "It's alright, I promise, everything's alright."

You made some attempt at cleaning your face, saying, "No it's not. It's really not-" Your voice broke off and you tried to look away. "I don't know why I'm here."

He took your chin in his hand and gently lifted your head. "You're here because you want to be, aren't you?" he asked, trying and failing to crack a smile, "What's wrong?"

You sniffed. "I dunno, everything is wrong, I'm wrong, everything goes wrong and I can't help. I stand out of the way while you do all the work and I'm useless-" you said, choking back another sob. You swiped your sleeve across your face and sniffed again before saying, "I don't know what I'm doing here, I'm always in the way. It was the same on Earth, I can't do anything right. I'm like a-" You cried softly, "I'm like a parasite-"

"No one talks about my friend like that," the Doctor said, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "You're incredible! You're lovely, and brilliant, I couldn't imagine traveling without you."

You covered your face with your hands and muttered, "You don't understand-" Your shoulders shook and your chest heaved with sobs. "That feels like a lie, it feels like- like you're just trying to be nice, and I can't help it, but I can't believe you- and I'm tired!" you cried, "I just want it to stop, I'm so tired of feeling like this. I just-"

You paused, sniffing and wiping the tears from your eyes. The Doctor peered at you, not daring to say a word.

You said, "I'm sorry," and the Doctor responded.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about, alright? Nothing at all, I promise," he said. You sniffed again and took a deep breath.

"It's just... A lot, all the time. It gets terrible like this, and I've- sometimes, I..." you said, swallowing a lump in your throat, "I think the world would be better off without me in it. I dunno, it- it feels like I'd be doing everyone a favor." You chuckled bitterly.

The Doctor spoke, slow and deliberate, refusing to break your gaze. "Please believe me when I say that the world would not be better off without you. I have been travelling for over a thousand years, and I have never met a person that didn't matter. You're extraordinary."

He touched his forehead to yours, cupping your face and taking a deep breath. "I can't imagine a world without you," he said, stating it like it confused him, "But if I can do anything about it, I'll make sure that any world with you in it is nice and safe, I promise I'll try my hardest."

He paused again before saying, "I also want you to know that I love you, and I'm here, even when it gets hard."

You froze. Your eyes flashed across his face, looking for any telltale signs of a lie, but as you looked, you found nothing but sincerity. A tiny smile crept onto your face.

He enveloped you in another bear hug, stroking your hair as you wrapped your arms around him. For the first time in a while, you felt content.

[doverstar]

so Lost and Rewritten's first lil sequel is basically done now, and since I don't know if I'll ever post it, here's a peek at one of my favorite scenes (context: he's back)

[theobjectofyourire]

Eleventh Doctor x reader fluff disguised as smut because it’s actually the reader’s first time and they’re really nervous. But the Doctor’s incredibly sweet and patient. Kind of inspired by the Daemyra scene from episode seven? I’m still not over it.

a/n: wow wow wow I cannot tell you how much I loved this!! seriously this was so much fun to write and so perfect for my first request! thank you so so much, anon, I really hope you like it!

word count: 3.2k

cw: some angst and hurt/comfort vibes in the beginning, worries of unrequited love - but it all gets resolved, so much build up, definitely gets spicy later on, I think the request pretty much sums it up

ps. if you want The Feels, the song I imagine them dancing to is The Night We Met by Lord Huron

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~

A Thing Of Poetry

Your cheeks flush as reality begins to settle around you, adrenaline leaving your senses far more alert than you'd like. The chill of the ocean breeze does little to cool your skin, let alone soothe your ego, and it all seems a terrible joke that despite having a Time Lord by your side, you're incapable of erasing this moment from history.

You'd need only travel a few minutes into the past, just enough to create a distraction, some sort of loud noise that would send you both back to his blue box, or out exploring beyond the sands. It wouldn't be anything serious, not in the big scheme of things. Of course, there was always the chance that your past self would run into your current self and tear a hole in the fabric of space and time, which admittedly seemed rather an extreme risk for what essentially amounted to an embarrassment. It's also exactly why the Doctor would never allow it, and it isn't as if you could fly the Tardis without him. Not that you would want to. You can't imagine one without the other.

No, the only thing you truly want right now is for this unbearable, almost unbelievable silence to end. He's the Doctor, your Doctor, who not a few hours ago managed to talk for ten minutes straight without so much as taking a breath. The same man who once explained water in such a way that by the end of it, even the poor fish was confused. The Time Lord who has a clever, if not somewhat silly reply to everything and everyone in the whole of the universe, and yet, here and now, seems incapable of uttering a single word.

You've done the impossible in rendering him speechless, and you're not entirely sure how to feel about it. Unsettled seems a good word. Awkward, chastened, terrified, the list goes ever on, but you're trying not to dwell on it too much. Instead, you attempt to refocus your attentions by observing him, hoping to discern something of an understanding from his movements.

He stares at you with wide eyes, unreadable save for the obvious shock. His long lashes continue to flutter the way they always do when excited or nervous, and his fingers are trailing along his bottom lip as if examining a precious artifact.

You wonder if you've made a terrible mistake.

His gaze begins to wander, drifting from yours to the midnight sea stretched before you. At the end of a trying day and a few near misses, he'd asked to take you here, a moonlit beach at the edge of the world. A world, he said, where dragons once roamed. Your face lit up at the mere mention.

I knew you'd love it.

You'd nestled yourselves in the sand, just a little distance from the incoming tide. You hadn't any blankets or towels, only a knit jumper and his body heat to keep you warm. It had been, by all accounts, the perfect evening.

It might have stayed that way.

You never should have kissed him.

Your Doctor lets out a deep sigh, a sound so uncertain, you think your heart might break. You can't bear the silence a minute longer.

"I'm sorry," you choke as you haul yourself to your feet, all but running back to the Tardis.

"Y/n," he murmurs. His voice is soft and painfully kind, enough to make you consider turning back. You can't help but imagine the way he'd wrap his arms around you, holding you tightly as he kissed the top of your head, comforting and consoling you until the dawn. All you want is to snuggle into him, but you're already fighting back tears, and it doesn't seem fair to let the Doctor see you cry.

You force yourself to keep going. He says your name again, louder this time as he shuffles about the sand. You hear him curse (his idea of cursing, anyway) as he slips, unable to get a firm footing, but you keep your eyes fixed straight ahead as you trudge across the beach. Knowing his coordination, or lack thereof, you have a few minutes before he catches up with you.

You find yourself trembling as you fling yourself into the Tardis, propping the door shut behind you. She rumbles, seeming to sense your distress.

"I'm alright," you mumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'll be alright."

The Tardis lets out a low groan.

"I know," you heave a sigh. "I don't buy it, either."

You run your hand along the rails as you make your way towards the stairs. You plan on going straight to bed, but you've not made it two steps into the hall before you find yourself on the other side of the console.

You swear you can hear crickets chirping as you glance around. Did you take a wrong turn? You must've done.

You give your head a good shake before returning to the stairs, taking them two at a time and heading to your right. You end up exactly where you were a few seconds ago, steps away from the Tardis console, in full view of the doors.

"Oh, god, no." Your voice is little more than a whine. Even to your own ears, you sound like a child, but you can't bring yourself to care. "No, no, no, don't do this to me," you plead with the ship, panicking as you hear the Doctor's voice getting closer.

You run up the stairs again, though you don't know why you bother. The Tardis keeps putting you back in the console room, determined for you to be there when the Doctor arrives. Unfortunately for the both of you, you're too stubborn to simply give in.

"You're just like him, you know," you grumble as you head up the stairs, yet again. "Neither of you play fair."

The Tardis hums sympathetically. Where do you think he learned it from?

You snort as you keep walking. The whole thing becomes somewhat soothing - like walking in a circle without getting dizzy. That's how he finds you, arguing with his old girl while walking in a loop, disappearing up the stairs before reappearing seconds later on the other side.

You're too caught up in your own whirlwind of frustrations to notice the Doctor, who's currently leaning against one of the rails and smiling something proud.

Look at you.

Stomping around the Tardis, arguing with her as if she were your own, refusing to surrender despite knowing you can't possibly win...right now, you look a little less human and a little more Time Lord.

Though he tries to suppress it, you can't help but hear his giggle. You turn on your heel with a glare, staring him down. "What?" You flinch at the venom in your voice, but it doesn't seem to fluster him in the least. He just keeps on beaming.

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all," he chuckles as he rubs his hands together, a cheeky glint in his eye. "Just reminding me of meself."

You cross your arms. "Oh, am I?"

The Tardis gives another little rumble, which the Doctor matches in turn. "Yes," he smirks, straightening his bow tie. "Yes, you are."

You try desperately to cling to your anger, an ire so warm it's nearly burned away even the deepest of insecurities, but it doesn't stand a chance against your Doctor. His lopsided grin is already beginning to quell your irritation, leaving you more vulnerable than you'd like. Anxiety trembles in your core while shame coils itself around your heart and in an instant, you remember why you're stuck in this predicament in the first place.

You never should have kissed him.

You chew at the inside of your cheek, offering him a small smile you hope looks sincere. Of course, it doesn't help that you can barely meet his gaze.

In four long strides, he's made his way over to you, eyes alert and brows furrowed. "Something's wrong." His voice is low, a slight growl in the back of his throat the way there always is when he's serious.

You shake your head. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not," he mutters, looking you up and down as if you're something to be analyzed, searching for a crack in the surface. Your Doctor, always looking for some physical wound, some stretch of skin easily mended. You feel exposed when his cheeks flush, realization dawning on his features.

"Oh."

You manage a nod, gulping down a bit of tension. "Yeah."

"Oh, Y/n," he sighs as he leans in, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against yours. His breath is warm on your skin, like a campfire beneath an autumn moon. If only you could stop thinking of his lips.

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

He pulls away just then, making you regret having said anything at all. "For what?"

He's looking at you with such concern, at once both gentle and steadfast. It certainly isn't a help to your poor heart, which is beating approximately five times faster than it should be. He's really going to make you say it, isn't he?

Your fingers are shaking as you run a hand through your hair, forcing yourself to look at your shoes, at the console, anywhere but his face. "I shouldn't have kissed you."

Kissed. Such a small word, a thing of poetry, and yet it feels like an awkward curse as it tumbles out of your mouth, tasting of something forbidden. You feel so tiny. So silly. You just wish you could disappear. You just wish he could say something to make it all better.

"Why?"

Well, that isn't what you had in mind.

You bounce on the balls of your feet, completely overwhelmed with nervous energy. "Why did I kiss you?"

"Why are you sorry?"

You perk up, daring to look at him as a little spark of hope begins to flutter in your chest. His brows are still furrowed, confusion etched on every line of his face, both endlessly ancient and unfathomably young. Such a beautiful contradiction, your Doctor. The way he's looking at you...

"I...your reaction," you stammer. "I thought you didn't like...I thought you didn't want..."

You trail off as he breaks into a grin, taking your face in both of his hands and again, you find yourself feeling tiny. This time, you don't mind it so much.

"Oh, Y/n." His voice is soft, almost a whisper. His thumb grazes your cheek, wiping away a fallen tear. "My silly, wondrous, Y/n."

You're about to say something, ask him a question, perhaps, but you never get the chance. His lips are already brushing against yours, immeasurably soft with a tender passion you had only ever dreamt of. Your breath catches itself in your throat as his long lashes tickle your skin, his grip on you tightening as he loses himself in a kiss filled with a lifetime of yearning.

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him close until his chest is against yours and you can feel his hearts, both beating almost as quickly as your own. You can't stop yourself from moaning into his mouth as he presses you up against the rails, no more than you can help the shiver down your spine when he echoes it back to you.

You find yourself trembling as he pulls away, admiring the slight blush that still lingers on his cheeks. "I've wanted to do that since the moment you first stumbled into my Tardis," he murmurs, offering a smile as sweet as it is mischievous. He sweeps his thumb across your lower lip, chuckling as you suppress another moan. "I never imagined you wanted the same."

"More than anything in the world," you admit, swallowing down a shaky breath.

He gives you a wink. "Which one?" God, he's sly.

You slide your hands down his chest, wrapping your fingers around his suspenders and giving them a playful snap. You could swear he growls in response. "All of them, Doctor. I want you more than all of them."

He takes one of your hands in his, eyes refusing to leave yours. He presses his lips against the soft skin of your wrist, gentle, and yet desperately possessive. "What are we waiting for?"

He slowly leads you around the console, drawing you nearer the stairs, but despite the fact that your desire is growing by the second, you can't ignore the nervousness in the pit of your stomach.

"Doctor..."

You curse your voice for wavering, wishing you could maintain any semblance of the confidence you felt a minute ago. If you're being entirely honest, part of you is terrified. Not of the Doctor, never of the Doctor, but of disappointing him. After all, you aren't as experienced as most humans, let alone a thousand year old Time Lord.

He needs only glance at your expression to see your apprehensiveness, and it doesn't take a moment for him to spring into action. The lust in his gaze is replaced with something softer as he strokes the back of your hand. "Y/n?" he asks, his voice overflowing with care.

"I...I haven't...well, you know how some people...you know, most people..."

His forehead is all scrunched up as he tries to make sense of your words. You can't blame him, of course, you can hardly make sense of them, yourself. You hadn't thought any of this out, but you're determined to get through to the end.

"I'm what you might consider," you continue, uncertainly, "well, that is to say that I'm not one to have participated in...you know, I've never..."

Mercifully, understanding flashes in the Doctor's eyes before you manage to butcher another sentence.

"Oh!"

"Yeah."

"I see." He runs a hand over his jaw, eyes darting about the console room as he contemplates. You start to curse yourself again, worrying you'd ruined it all. You shouldn't have said anything. Why did you always have to say something?

"Oi, you," he murmurs, kind but firm. "Stop that."

"What?"

"Getting lost in that head of yours." You nod sheepishly. He's right, seeing through your anxieties as he so often does.

"Doctor?" you ask, hesitantly. "I want this. I wasn't lying, earlier. I want this more than anything, and maybe I shouldn't have told you-"

"Oi," he interrupts, wagging his finger like the silly old man that he is. "What did I just say?"

"Get out of my own head."

"Exactly." He taps the end of your nose, making you smile and squirm. "I'm glad you told me. If this is what you want-"

It's your turn to interrupt. "It is."

He smiles and squeezes your hand. "Do you trust me?"

You don't even consider your answer. You've known it all along. "Always."

He winks and snaps his fingers. The Tardis dims her lights as music starts playing from the console. A song from your world, a song he knows you love more than anything. The lyrics always made you think of him.

He brings your hand to his lips as he bows, tipping an imaginary hat and beaming when it makes you giggle. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his voice but a whisper in your ear as you dance in the heart of his ship.

"You're divine," he hums, kissing the base of your throat. Your hands slide into his hair as he lightly sucks the sensitive skin, cheeks flushed from the sensations as well as his words. You can feel him smiling as you shiver. "I want to show you."

"Show me, Doctor?" You're nearly breathless. "Show me what?"

He brings his lips back to yours, engulfing you in a kiss so longing, so endless, it cannot but threaten tears at the sheer romance of it all. It nearly shatters you when he breaks away, caressing your cheek as his green eyes, full of stars, pour into yours.

"I want to show you how brilliant you are," he murmurs. "I want to show you just how much I adore you."

You gaze up at him, lashes fluttering as you blush. The music seems quieter, somehow, and it's only when your eyes drift from the Doctor that you realize you're no longer in the console room.

The Tardis, it seems, transported the both of you to your bedroom. You can't help but giggle.

"Too right, old girl," he chuckles, looking up at the ceiling and giving her a salute. "Too right."

He takes off his jacket, draping it over a chair before shrugging off his suspenders. Next is his bow tie, which he slowly unravels and sets gently atop one of your shelves. He's undone two or three of his shirt buttons when you still his hands with yours.

His eyes are twinkling as you make your way down to the last, brushing aside the fabric to run your fingers along his chest. It's his breath that shakes, now, as you explore further, hands toying with the zip of his trousers.

He swallows a moan as he stops you. As much as he wants to know what your hands would feel like around him, it can wait. This night is about you.

With a kiss that leaves you trembling, he begins to undress you, an act that can only be described as reverent. He presses his lips against every inch of your bare skin, the shock of the cool air immediately soothed by the warmth of his breath.

When you're standing before him, all but bare, he sinks to his knees and asks once more if you trust him.

"Yes," you whisper.

He places loving kisses along your hip bones before moving down to your thighs, holding you steady when you begin to quiver with anticipation. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, gripping tight as he gets closer and closer to your aching sex.

"Please," you beg, not even certain what you're begging for.

He smiles against your skin. "As you wish."

Head between your thighs, you call out for him, your voice little more than a whine as his tongue swirls around you, sucking at your most sensitive spot all but dripping with arousal.

"Doctor," you murmur breathlessly as his fingers slide inside you, unlocking secrets even you were unaware of. He hums your name, the vibrations sending intense waves of pleasure through your core. You cling to him for dear life as you clench around his fingers, your own digging into his scalp.

The orgasm feels endless. You wonder if it is. If the Tardis is somehow looping time, or if the Doctor is simply that good. Something tells you it's the latter. The thought sends a tingle down your spine.

He licks his lips, swallowing your arousal with a moan as he looks up at you with a smile. "Do you have any idea how delicious you taste?"

You giggle as you cover your face, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks yet again. He rises from his knees, kissing his way up your body until his lips are against yours, the ache between your thighs already returning. You're still shivering from his fingers, his tongue, everything he did, and it hasn't gone unnoticed.

"Don't worry, my love," he purrs. "The night is just beginning."

[11thsdoctress]

“make me human..” [Eleventh Doctor / Reader]

Fandom: Doctor Who

Ship: Eleventh Doctor / Reader

Word Count: 1021

Summary:  Recalling some fun memories comes with remembering the bad ones, and since the brain does not know how to shut up, it got the best of you, til the Doctor found you in that vulnerable state.

Author’s Note: Okay so I wrote this fic with my brain half asleep, and this was a request by @/deathgripz on AO3: “ can you write a story where the reader has a panic attack and the eleventh doctor tries to distract/comfort them? thank you sm if you can!!!"

“For the last time, stay here in the Tardis, I don’t want you to get hurt again.” The Doctor commanded as he shuts the doors,

You just sigh as you sat on the stairs and try to relax, you wanted to join him on kicking Dalek circuit butts, but he wanted you to stay this time made you slightly upset and guilty on starting that argument in the first place.

Remembering some adventures and memories of you and the Doctor going on multiple time periods and planets had gotten you hooked to the adrenaline and the adventurous spirit, even to the point that you would join in almost every day.

Remembering some good memories comes with also remembering the bad ones,

At first, it was just the embarrassing moments, like the one time the Doctor had walked in on kissing your then partner, or the time where He was plainly changing his clothes right in front of you, as an alien was on its way back to earth.

You brushed it off again until the more unpleasant memories fueled your nagging brain,

You could vividly remember each small detail, your brain scrutinizing every detail, the time when you and The Doctor almost died multiple times from the Daleks, and you hated the times when the Doctor had to put himself in danger just to save you from the various dangers of space and time.

Each unpleasant memory came with the feeling of re-living the emotions and stress of each moment, replaying the thrill and anguish of how many near-death moments had happened and trying to fathom the feeling after the said moment.

The more unpleasant memories are recalled, breathing became harder to do, and you were trying to ground yourself, however, your brain got the best of you, and you started to overthink, blaming yourself,

“He almost died so many times because of you”

“You’re just another burden to him.”

“You should’ve stayed at home.”

The voices in your head were beating you down so much that you sunk to the floor, burying your face in your knees, not wanting to see the TARDIS’ surroundings, breathing became almost impossible as your hands were starting to shake, and you were feeling lightheaded.

As you were about to try to make it to your room in the TARDIS, a sudden barging sound made you flinch,

“The Daleks could never outsmart the one and only-” The Doctor’s proud and happy look dropped when he saw your state, 

“I’m sorry… You shouldn’t see me like this..” You say softly as you looked away in an effort to hide your tear-soaked face, and spare yourself from the possibility that this would be another embarrassing memory to think back to.

Not saying anything after that, you tried to stable your breathing, but the scary part was not hearing the Doctor talk for a bit,

You were silently blaming yourself, for letting him see you like this, but suddenly, your world stopped when the Doctor kneeled down and suddenly pulled you into a hug.

“Dear, I’m sorry you had to feel that way, but please tell me if something is bothering you, it kills me that you can’t tell me if something is killing you.” He gently says as he plays with your hair for a bit.

You nodded, “I-it’s just that…. I think that I might be just a burden to-”

He places a hand on top of your mouth, shutting you up instantly,

“Don’t say that about yourself, I want you to be here, You are my companion, and I am your Doctor, again, I want you here, not just to witness me looking so clever, but to make me feel human.”

You look at him as he said the last sentence,

“It sounds a bit selfish, and I’m not the best when it comes to comforting another human, but you make me feel and sound sane, and you make me believe that I have the capacity and ability to care for someone, After all, I’d be a terrible Doctor if I left you for dead.” he leans forward connecting both of your foreheads.

“All I want now is for you to relax and get out of your own head, okay?” He looks at you, waiting for your answer.

“Alright.” You say weakly, “But can we stay like this?” you ask shyly, blushing a bit.

“As long as you want.” he plainly replies as he gently brushes and plays with your hair.

He just held you as the TARDIS drifted away in space as you slowly fell asleep in his arms. Noticing this, he smiled a bit as he carefully carried you to the bunk beds on board, instead of placing you in your upper bunk, he placed you in his bed on the lower bunk.

After placing you on his bed, he just sat on the edge of the bed for a bit, making sure you were fast asleep, not wanting to breach your privacy, he stood up, but stopped as he felt your hand grabbing his wrist.

“Please stay.” you ask, “I want you to rest as well.”

“You know I don’t sleep, right?” he scratches his head.

“Don’t care.” you pulled him into the small bed, making him lay next to you,

Blushing, he just stayed quiet, and slowly, both of you slowly fell asleep.

Bonus: 

You wake up with arms wrapped around you tightly, you look over to see the Doctor’s peaceful but asleep look, moving a bit to adjust, he suddenly mumbles, “don’t move, 5 more minutes, love.” he sleeptalks, making you blush a bit.

Gently waking the Doctor by shaking him a bit, “I thought you wanted to explore and kick Dalek butt?” you whispered as you didn’t want to be too loud.

“Nope, I like this, and I changed my mind, I want this to last longer so shush.” He was awake but didn’t bother to open his eyes, as he pulled you closer.

You just quietly giggled and rolled your eyes as you just stayed there, enjoying the peaceful moment, making it a core memory with your Doctor.

=============================

Author’s Note:

I hope ya’ll like this fic I wrote when my brain was half asleep and was trying it’s best to form words and sentences that make sense. so yeah, hope to catch up with the requests aaaaa

[saiilorstars]

• 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.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Star-Crossed (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Eleventh Doctor x GN!Reader (fluff/angst)

Summary: You and the Doctor find out that neither of you are on the same page when it comes to defining your relationship.

EVERYTHING: @winchxters

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu @thegen3sisark @wereallbrokenangels @florduarte @pansexual-imp (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Star-crossed lovers. That's what people called the two of you. After you'd both averted some new catastrophe on a random moon or planet and the people you'd befriended on this particular adventure dragged you away to ask what it was like- travelling with the Doctor.

"It must be nice, travelling the stars with such a handsome partner."

"You're both so lucky to have each other."

"Tell us, is he a good kisser?"

On and on it went. Planet after planet, moon after moon. And you wish you knew if he was a good kisser or not. You wish you knew what it was like to cuddle under a ship window and listen to him tell you stories. You wish you knew what it was like to sleep next to each other and have him cuddle you back to sleep (if he slept at all, of course). All of these things and more, but from what you could tell- he just wasn't interested.

"Come on, now," the Doctor broke you from your sulking. You took a deep breath and looked over at him. "What's that face for? It's a new day, new adventure, new hijinks. We've got it made, you and me."

You forced a smile onto your lips, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by a lot of things right now.

"What face, Doctor? There's no face. Promise."

The Doctor clicked his tongue, brows furrowing disapprovingly at your very obvious lie. Abandoning his post by the console, the Doctor came to sit by you, throwing his arm over your shoulders comfortingly.

"All right," he acquiesced as you turned your head to face away from him. You craved this kind of physical affection from him, but it also hurt. A lot. "Pretend for a second that I believe you, what could I do to make your great day even better, hmm?"

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, and suddenly the Doctor's thumb and forefinger were under your chin and turning your head towards him.

"What's wrong, Petal? I can't stand to see you hurt like this."

"I just- look, it's silly, but I get tired of hearing people mistake us for a couple all the time," you explained, eyes downcast. Then, the Doctor's arm was no longer around you and the cool of the TARDIS interior made you shiver.

Forcing yourself to make eye contact with him, you were very surprised and frightened to see hurt on his features. This confused you, and you reached for one of his hands which was currently picking at his nails anxiously.

"You don't want to be a couple anymore then?" He asked, struggling to not look away from you.

"Well, I-" you started and then abruptly stopped. "Anymore? What do you mean 'anymore'?"

Now the Doctor looked just as confused as you did. You could see the gears trying to turn in his brain but struggling.

"I've spent a great deal of my time around humans," the Doctor said, processing. "Do you mean to tell me... I've been considering us a couple going on four or five months and you didn't know?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. You were seeing error.exe messages in your mind's eye. What was happening right now?

"But- I- we've never even kissed?" You protested, windows computer noises playing over your brain as you tried to figure out how this miscommunication could have happened.

"I thought you wanted to take things slow," the Doctor answered.

You couldn't help it. You burst into laughter. Raucous, loud, boisterous laughter that filled the room and out into the hallways. The Doctor followed, little giggles that turned into full-bellied laughter in no time.

You couldn't believe the ridiculousness of the situation. How could he have thought that? How could you have thought he wasn't interested? Gods, there was a lot of miscommunication there that needed to be seriously looked at as some sort of Ripley's believe it or not record.

When you were able to stop your giggling long enough to take a breather, the Doctor took your hand.

"Given we didn't do this the right way the first time," he said, looking equally as mystified by the situation. "I feel it's my duty to ask... would you like to go out with me? Complete restart. From the beginning."

"Yes," you grinned, wiping the tears of laughter from your cheek with your shoulder. "I would love to go on a date with you."

"Excellent!" He exclaimed, jumping up and heading to the console. "Now, you go put something on. Something... fit for a nice dinner and a movie, and I'll put the coordinates in. Go on, off you pop."

You hopped up, feeling giddy with excitement. A fresh start, this was just what you needed. Maybe you were star-crossed lovers after all.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Hi there! Could we see a touch starved!reader x The Doctor? Whichever Doctor you would want, but I admit I am biased to 11 hehe.

I really enjoyed your fic ‘Keep blessing me’, as someone who is plus size, I rarely see myself represented in media positively.

I can imagine reader being the type of person who is overlooked often, never been desired romantically and feels like she has been forgotten by the universe. She yearns to be held and feel safe but she also feels unworthy. She definitely is majorly pining for The Doctor but doesn’t allow herself to dwell much on it. Maybe he feels the same way?

[TW: negative self-talk, referenced/implied depression]

"Stone walls" - 11th Doctor x touch starved!Reader

Doctor Who-inspired playlist

Should you ask anyone who has taken part in some kind of competition at least once in their life, they will always say the same thing: the fourth place is the worst. Right under the podium, a hair's breadth away from being someone and yet they are nothing more than a mockery, the line separating memory and oblivion. Taking into account the series of unfortunate events you call your life, you were born in fourth place.

It was never anything explicit and perhaps that was the worst part. Had there been a groundbreaking revelation, a true calamity of heartache, you would have accepted it but it was that silence that sucked the life out of you. It wasn't that someone told you they hated you, it was that you were never chosen, drifting away on the waves of silence into the ocean of oblivion. Although you were born into this world, it never felt like you truly were part of it. Perhaps, all of existence was happening next to you or existence, to put it simply, refused to make you part of itself.

And then there was him - the Doctor, always scoring first place, always showered in gold medals and trophies because, truthfully, why wouldn't he? There was no way of telling how many catastrophes he had prevented, how many lives he had already saved. By his tireless service to the entire universe, it seemed as though he was born for this, to always be a winner. And the stories he told! How he had befriended so many species, how many hearts were offered to him that he had turned down. It was quite bittersweet, that you were so different and yet you were alive in the same universe.

Truthfully, you still didn't quite understand what ungodly whim made you his "partner in crime". The longer you were around him, the more you grow to understand just how not alike you were as if his brilliancy made you painfully aware of your mediocrity. Your place wasn't with him, quite obviously - he deserved someone better; someone you could never become. Maybe it would be better to leave soon, on your own, than have him grow impatient and simply throw you out. It wasn't the way you wanted to remember him, angry and annoyed, so you thought it best to relieve both of you of your underwhelming existence as soon as possible.

"You don't have to do this alone."

His voice caught you off guard. Has he been here this whole time? How long had he been staring at you, waiting for you to finally do something?

You turned around to look at him. The Doctor was leaning against the console, his arms crossed on his chest. By all accounts, it seemed that he had been standing there for quite a while, pondering whether he should speak up.

"I'm not sure what you mean," you answered with a slight shake of your head.

For a moment, he didn't say anything. His bright, green eyes stared into you as if he was waiting for something but you couldn't be sure what for exactly. After a while of silence, he left his spot to make his way towards you. His rhythmic footsteps echoed throughout the otherwise empty TARDIS.

"I'm not sure either," he spoke in a mild tone, "but I can tell something turned you sour. Whatever it is, you don't have to do this alone."

The Doctor gently wrapped his lanky arms around you, while you didn't quite know what to do. The moment he tightened his grip around you, something heavy inside your viscera pulled you towards the ground. You grabbed his tweed jacket with as much force as you could possibly muster. It felt as if the moment you let go of the coarse material, your whole body would simply fall apart. That gaping hole in your chest you tried your best to ignore suddenly felt deeper like a beast whose insatiable appetite only grows as it devours. This hunger or whatever it really was felt absolutely awful, so painful it coursed through your veins and filled your entire body with suffering. The Doctor gently shifted his body and your hands only tightened their grip on him as if there was no greater horror in this universe than him letting go of you.

"Just hold me," you whispered. "I'm lonely."

And he did just that.

Sometimes you thought about that one time you had asked the Doctor whether he slept. Truthfully, you never did see him sleep and somehow he was always full of energy. Did Time Lords not need rest? They were, after all, a very exceptional sort of aliens. In response, he only looked at you with a confused expression. "Why would I?" he asked, "It's eight more hours without you." You never did believe them but then, when the fourth place and the first place were equals for a moment, you thought that perhaps he did, in fact, mean them.

[arting-block]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 (𝟏) | Eleventh Doctor x MCU!Sorcerer Reader

❝𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶?❞

Summary: Something is wrong...very wrong.

Genre: Romance, AU/Crossover

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, heavy cannon divergence for this series as a whole going forward.

Words: 4.5K

Reader: POC friendly, she/her, 24 y/o.

A/N: REPOST since I stupidly uploaded the wrong draft 💀. That post and timeline won't appear. I spent the week editing and I'll get to finalizing the second chapter. Sorry if the plot seems slow, I want to flesh everything out.

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Forces of the universe contort and stretch your atoms mercilessly. Colors, light, and sounds shred your senses until your mind can only process pain. You can discern if you’re traveling up, or down; all you feel is the skin of your flesh searing off. Plasma glides around you, lulling you into its embrace. The sea of cosmic energy passes through your body and your soul eagerly accepts. 

Then it stops.

Daring to open your eyes, you are met with a vast, multi-colored plane of existence. White dots of all shapes and sizes surround you, connected by a web of energy. The temperature borders on scalding, but you don’t flinch. You know this place. The edge of your universe. 

Being here with a physical body hurts more than you imagined. Sorcerers only come here in astral form. You’ve already reached beyond the limits of your physical universe. You feel movement around you. Space-time distorts and you feel your body being pulled down, down, down—

You hit the ground with a deafening BOOM. The Earth caved under the force of your descent as your body drags a couple of feet into the soil.  

The air sizzle around you as you try to open your eyes. Everything’s hot—burning. Your skin barely contains the heat that your blood emits. Power, raw and ancient, boil your veins. It’s all-consuming. 

A magic beyond your mortal understanding is now fighting for dominance against your one soul. The pain you feel goes beyond your torn skin and burnt muscles. Your spirit is being burned—decimated. 

You try to sit up; gritting your teeth at how stiff your sore muscles are. You notice the lack of feeling in your limbs. Dull pin-pricks trickle around your hands and up your arms as if your limbs went to sleep. You roll to one side and use your forearm and your other palm to push yourself upright. Letting out a shrill cry, you try to command your limbs to move. In the fog of your mind, you think rigor mortis is starting to take place. 

Every inch of movement is sharp and painful. Your lungs struggle to keep your breath even as you push up off the ground. You catch a glimpse of how damaged you were. The skin around your arms is peeled and caked with dried blood. Burnt muscles are exposed between the gaps of your exposed dermis. Enchanted sorcerer robes were no match for primordial cosmic energy it seems. The sleeves that would’ve normally protected against magical fires were burnt off. 

“Get…up,” you croak weakly. You can’t even curl your fingers around the charred grass beneath you. Your limbs obey no command. 

Between the blackened muscles of your hands, you see slivers of multi-colored light. It peaked around the veins of your hands and danced gracefully down your forearms. It was taunting you. The power of five Infinity stones rests in your palms and you cannot even muster the strength to even sit up. They might even be the reason you’re rendered immobile. 

You knew one thing for certain: you were alive. Maybe not for long if you keep wallowing on the ground. 

Thanos won. 

If the pain from your marred arms was debilitating, the realization that you weren’t strong enough to save half of the universe stung worse than any physical wound. The ringing in your ears and the headache are distracting enough to stop you from going down a mental spiral.

Breathe. Stay calm. 

Your body shuddered with every shaky inhale. Every little movement caused sharp pains and burning. You feel hot energy bubbling beneath the surface of your skin and you wonder if it’s going to burst. 

“Get…up,” you wheezed. Tears started to prick your eyes and your arms were shaking trying to keep your upper body off the ground. 

I’m weak. I was never strong enough, to begin with.

Clenching your teeth, you stubbornly command your limbs to move. 

Why bother? It’s not like I’ll be much use anyways.

“Please!” your voice is raw and scratchy. It physically pained you to cry as your lungs pressed against your ribs. Your legs tingle but don’t obey. 

Don’t listen to those thoughts. Prove them wrong. Get up.

Your arms collapsed under your weight and you slammed your head onto the dirt. All the fight left your body and you feel the metallic taste of blood in your throat. 

— — —

An hour passed before the nerves in your body responded to your mind’s command. Every shallow breath sent waves of constant pain emanating from your ribs. You grit your teeth and swallow the searing pain. Stubbornly, you rise from the rubble on shaky, bleeding legs. 

The sparks of your nerves and numbness in your hands combine to shield your mind from recent events. Survive now. Think later. Your mind obeyed the command, putting all of its efforts into moving one foot in front of the other. The small crater you found yourself in was shallow enough that you could crawl out of it despite feeling like you were immobile. Everything blurs and your senses dull. Survive, Move, Breathe. You remind yourself the need for oxygen is worth the throbbing in your ribs. The air scratches the worn cords of your vocal folds— mingling with the copper taste of blood. 

One foot drags in front of the other. Half stumbling, half dragging, you move your defeated body. You are nothing more than a ghost possessing a long-dead body; desperately clinging onto life as if you have something worth living. 

Vines, branches, leaves, and dirt swirl in your vision in a dizzying pattern. Move. 

The weight of your sling ring anchors your thoughts. Its cold surface stings against your chaffed skin. Once polished and sturdy was now cracked and brittle. Like your hands, it took the full force of five Infinity Stones; you think it will snap in two with one use. 

— — —

A shrill whirring sound accompanied the arrival of The TARDIS. Its blue paint contrasts with the natural landscape of Rwanda. The TARDIS’s doors slam open as The Doctor stumbles outside. Immediately, the humid air makes the clothes on his body stick and his hair damp. The heat though is unnatural. His nose smells of smoke, but no cloud of ash would indicate a fire. 

The Doctor is no stranger to odd happenings. Things that don’t quite line up, but come together in a glorious puzzle that only he knows how to solve. Smoke in the air, but no visible fire. Air that seems to simmer when the weather is supposed to be cool in this area. His fingers reach towards his sonic screwdriver and use it to scan the air. 

Amy finds the jungle fascinating. Sure, the purple ferns on Pandora are bioluminescent and the waters of Jahroda are hot pink, but she never got a chance to explore Earth’s own biomes. Most of the time they visit Earth it’s either a different period in Europe or her hometown Leadworth. Her sense of adventure heightens the possibility of knowing more about her home planet. Stepping onto moist soil, she notes how rich the greens of the leaves are.

Rory, ever the cautious soul, stands directly beside his wife. Something in his gut told him that an important change will be made. Although he cannot discern if that change is good or bad, it’s a feeling he cannot ignore. He keeps his thoughts to himself, however, not wanting to bring his wife’s mood down. Especially with something as flimsy as a “feeling”. 

“Well that’s odd,” The Doctor inspects the findings of his screwdriver. A piece of this puzzle has revealed itself to him: high amounts of CMBR. 

Amy looks over The Doctor’s shoulder at the screwdriver, “You gonna elaborate?”

“Cosmic background radiation—CMBR for short. It’s light from the time of the Big Bang which has been stretched as the universe expanded. What’s odd is that CMBR is as cold as -270 degrees celsius! The chemical composition of the air is relatively normal save for a bit of smoke—BUT,” The Doctor whips around to face his companions, “Those compositions don’t explain the heat we’re experiencing right now. The TARDIS says it would be 16 degrees, but in this area, it’s jumped up to 36!”

“But you said CMBR is super cold, how could it heat the air?” Rory tried to follow The Doctor’s rambling. 

The Doctor snaps and points his finger directly in Rory’s face, “Why does CMBR—which is known for being cold, heat the air?”

Rory wasn’t amused in the slightest.

“CMBR isn’t always cold?” Amy tentatively asked.

“No,” The Doctor kept his eyes on Rory, but pointed accusingly at Amy, “It’s cold now.”

The implication of his words made the two uneasy. 

“You’re saying that the energy from The Big Bang…is here?” Amy tried to piece her limited knowledge of cosmology to whatever nonsense The Doctor is saying. 

“BINGO!” The Doctor clapped his hands, happy that Amy caught up to him somewhat. 

“Wait—Pause,” Rory pinched the bridge of his nose, “You said radiation, right?”

The Doctor waved dismissively, “Don’t act like you haven’t inhaled toxic fumes in the boiler room of spaceships. The dosage of CMBR right now is far below the lethal limit to kill a human.”

The Doctor says it so nonchalantly that at first glance, it seems he forgot he wasn’t human himself. His choice of words—radiation, dosage, lethal—should send bouts of anxiety inside his human companions. The unknown is a primal fear second to the fear of death. 

Rory’s heart beats steadily at The Doctor’s words. Amy’s curiosity eats away at her mind, ready to experience another new adventure with her two favorite people in the universe. Beyond their instincts, their trust in The Doctor had overwritten their biological code. Conditioned by life-threatening events and planet-saving memories, Amy and Rory accept the unknown. 

Walking along the crowded terrain, the trio huddles together and observes the frightening wonder that surrounds them. Long, spindly trunks and densely packed leaves block out the harsh Rwandan sun. Dew drops permeate the air, the vines cascade off branches in soft waves, and the sweat of their skin imprints on their minds. The wind is still and sounds are few and far between. Only the sonic screwdriver and The Doctor’s mumbling breaks the natural silence. 

It doesn’t take long for them to reach the anomaly. The rapid sounds that come from the screwdriver make both of The Doctor’s hearts leap. His mind already conjured theories on what exactly the anomaly the TARDIS picked up. 

A time field was an obvious guess, save for the fact that any rupture in space-time the anomaly caused sewn itself shut. As far as anyone could tell, no rupture occurred in the first place. Time fields would also not cause the rapid appearance of CMBR within the immediate area. Then, there was the anomaly itself. Something—or someone—caused the sudden rift and swiftly sealed it. Another time traveler perhaps? A new piece of alien technology that had yet to be known by The Doctor? 

The space between the sonic screwdriver’s beeps became shorter and shorter until it emitted a constant high-pitched whine. The Doctor stopped his movements; his view ahead was obstructed by a conveniently placed curtain of vines. 

Anticipation crept up in the trio as they watch The Doctor swat away the vines. Sunlight blinded them for a moment before they laid their eyes on the scene before them.

— — —

Time blurred the moment you tried taking a few steps out of the crater. Your body started to buzz and dots danced along your vision. Quick, fast heartbeats, uneven breathing, and lightheadedness were the only signs that you weren’t going to stay conscious for much longer. 

A muffled voice picks up in your fuzzy mind. Were they muffled or did your hearing fail you? You vaguely feel your body slump to the ground. A pair of arms grab you. You existed outside of your body. Any feeling you possessed faded, leaving you to watch as people drag you off the ground. You were lifted and your arms were slung around two shoulders. Panicked voices barely registered. 

Slowly, the voices were overpowered by ringing in your ears and your pounding heart. The black in your vision grows larger until you feel the weight of your eyelids dropping. Your mind bears no thought as you slip out of consciousness. 

— — —

You have a close relationship with pain and all of its forms. You’ve been subjected to the universe’s worse foes and clawed your way to victory. Bones have been broken, and blood—both yours and otherwise—had been shed. Parts of you have been lost and you gained more armor to guard your weakest points. When you crashed into the jungle, it was undoubtedly the worst your body had been subjected to.

The pain in your shoulders rudely snaps you back into the waking world. First, you feel the burning soreness in your upper back. It traveled all over in the form of stinging and aching. You audibly groan as you shifted in your bed. 

The cot let out an audible squeak as you swung your legs over the edge. Aches and pains made you stiff in your movements. The metal floor sent a cold sting to your feet as you tried to stand. 

Glowing orange walls surrounded the expansive room and gave an ambiance. The whole structure of the walls and vents that decorate the walls seemed to be a campy alien spaceship from a movie in the 90s. The ceiling had large air ducts, circular tubes, and multi-colored wires jutting out. A metal sink and mirror were situated on the other side of the room. Between you and the sink was a metal table with multiple shelves. On each shelf were bottles of disinfectant, medical tools, and vials with substances that glowed. 

You inhaled deeply, ignoring the sharp pain from your lungs expanding, and used the wall to guide you to the sink and mirror. Your joints creaked painfully and your steps were uneven. Half shuffling, half limping you pushed your aching body. Breathe, you had to remind yourself. When approaching the sink, you grabbed the edge of the counter. The arch of your feet was sore and your knees ached in protest. 

The first glimpse of your reflection made your heart jump to your throat. Your eyes snag on the numerous discolored patches of swollen skin. Your cheekbones and jaw were various shades of black and blue. Between the bruises were bandaged stitches crisscrossing irritated skin. Whatever small cuts that were too small for stitches were scabbed over in a dark red crust. The smaller cuts decorated the marred skin down your neck and—you assumed—underneath the white shirt. When you shifted closer, you saw a haunting ghost staring back. Despite how the sight of your face left you sick, you couldn’t move your eyes away. Lifting your head around, you let your eyes capture every new gash and bruise. 24 cuts. 7 of those had stitches. 4 large bruises. 

“You’re supposed to be on bed rest,” an accented voice cuts through your thoughts. 

You whip your head around to meet the stranger. Were you so caught in your thoughts you failed to hear his footsteps?

The man was a few paces ahead of you. Brown hair framed his boyish features. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his brown tweed jacket. He stood leisurely, but his eyes analyzed every movement of your face. It wasn’t curiosity. He was cautious. 

Whatever moisture was left in your swollen throat dried up at his stare. The cracked skin on your lips stretched painfully as you forced a few words out, “Who are you?”

“I’m The Doctor,” he says simply. As if it was a simple truth of the world. 

“Did you stitch me up? No offense, but…You don’t look like any medical professional,” you mumbled. More accurately, he didn’t remind you of Stephen. The Doctor lacked the crisp demeanor and commanding aura that Stephen possessed. If anything, the man in front of you looked more like an English professor than a medical doctor. 

“Why yes, I did! Are you in pain? No itching, fever, aches?” he stepped closer to get a better view. His hands were clasped loosely in front of him and he had to bend slightly to get to your eye level. 

“No, none of that. Where exactly…” you trailed off looking at the room around you.

The Doctor seemed to understand what you intended to ask, “Ah, well you’re safe first and foremost. We’re in space and while the chances of encountering other life aren’t zero, it’s safer than where we were on Earth.”

His words threw you in a loop. Space? Taking a good look around the room, you would expect this place to be a cafe at Tomorrowland, not a spacecraft. It didn’t look like any of the alien spaceships you’ve encountered. Back home, ships were sleek and minimal with neutral colors. Even flashy party ships made 100 years ago still had a level of pristine that wasn’t reflected in the room you were in.  

Your heartbeat started to rise; pieces of a puzzle started coming together. You were in another universe. That in of itself isn’t hard to believe and you’ve had your fair share of multiversal adventures in the past decade. Something was wrong. Fundamentally wrong. Beyond the torn muscles and barely-functioning organs, you felt the unease deep in your soul. 

“How did you find me?” 

“Who didn’t find you is the real question,” The Doctor dug his hand into his pocket and retrieved a strange cylindrical device. Clicking a button, the tool let out a high-pitched whine and he used it to scan your upper chest area, “A rip in space-time, though not normal, wasn’t anything to write home about. What did catch my eye was the amount of CMBR lingering in the impact area. Practically every fleet within a few hundred light years and a working broadcaster would pick up the radiation. ”

“Cosmic background radiation? From the hole in space-time?” 

“Not exactly,” the device stopped ringing and The Doctor looked at a window on the side of it, “In fact…it came from you.”

You scoffed at his accusation. When you met his deadpan expression, your smile dropped. 

“Oh, you’re being serious. Like…Radiation from the Big Bang inside my body…Right now?”

“For some reason, your body is keeping it stable and housing it within your veins and muscles. When we moved you from the crash sight, your body seemed to absorb any leftover radiation from the clothes on my body and in the air.”

Looking down at your wrapped hands, you see the split skin around the skin of your fingers. A thick layer of scabs prevented you from seeing the muscle underneath. You could feel the stones’ powers weaving between your fingers and down your arm. Your nerves were too numb to determine if the heat of the magic hurt or warmed you. Everything felt static.

“Listen to me (Y/N), I need you to—”

The Doctor’s words died when he saw you back away immediately. 

“I didn’t tell you my name,” your voice wavered. 

Sensing the change in your mood, he brought his hands up, “It was in your wallet—”

“Wallet? Y-You have my wallet? You went through my robes?”

Your robes were your pride and joy. For four years you intricately stitched runes into the inside fabric, seams, and the lining of your pockets. Layers of protection interlocked and knotted together to not only make the pockets seemingly disappear when you’re not wearing it but were physically incapable of opening up when it was off your body. It would take years to even get rid of the knotted magical energies before you could even begin to undo your runes. You made sure of that. 

The Doctor dug into his jacket pocket before revealing a familiar rose-colored rectangle. Before he held it out toward you, you snatched it from his hand. Flipping it open, you were horrified to see the black-and-white image of your driver’s license. Your pocket change, gift cards, and stacks of talismans were still where you left them. Without a doubt, you were holding your wallet in your hands. Everything from the frayed ends to the scratches of the leather was the exact same. 

Not even Wong had the ability to break your runes. Three hundred and forty-one runes, thirty-five charms, and twenty curses. Yet some wimpy Englishman with no eyebrows seemingly had the skill needed to break down your life’s work. 

I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed. 

“How the fuck did you break them? The runes, the curses—How the fuck did that happen?” you gawked at the items in your hand.  

The Doctor had his hands up and backed up slowly to gain distance from you, “You were bleeding! We had to remove your clothes and hoped we could identify you.”

“And the wallet fell out?”

“Yes! I swear,” fear was evident on his face. His words slightly wobbled and his breaths were quick. 

He tells the truth.

Your body had a way of connecting with others subconsciously. It wasn’t telepathy or some magical spell. It is a primal instinct. Fear, truths, and lies crackled in the air and your body could sense the change. The Doctor’s words didn’t leave an ache in your gut or a tingle down your spine. Anxiety pooled in your stomach, taking root and branching outwards. 

When placing runes, one must embed power into them. Eldritch magic drew power from external dimensions and those energies expanded into the greater multiverse. No matter where you were, those energies should feed into the runes and power them. 

Unless…

“Who protects Earth from external threats?” you tried to keep your voice even. 

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at you, “Depends on the threat. Not to toot my own horn, but I have been the one to stop many of the otherworldly threats that plague our universe.”

“The Avengers? S.H.I.E.L.D.? Guardians of the Galaxy?” 

“Nope, never heard of ‘em. Sounds like cool band names wouldn’t you think?” The Doctor gave a small, cheeky smile. 

“Iron Man? Spider-Man? The Sorcerer Supreme? Do none of those names ring a bell?” 

“No—Wait, what exactly are you asking for?”

“Are you seriously telling me that you—” you point your finger at his face, “ —are the sole protector of Earth?”

The Doctor straightened his jacket and gave a pleased look, “Well when you put it that way. Of course, I’m not the only one. You’ve probably heard of them, uh…U.N.I.T. and Torchwood? They’re Earth’s protectors against extraterrestrial threats.”

“What about mystical ones?”

“Mystical? Why on Earth would you need to—oh. I see it now.”

Hope bloomed in your chest. Maybe it has been a while since he’s seen Earth. You weren’t crazy, something in this universe must mirror your own. Maybe it was a niche superhero or maybe he knew someone who—

“You’re a Sporgatuu. Explains the weird robes and odd questions. Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. The answer is, no! I will not join your stupid lil’ club no matter how many women you send!”

You gaped him. Is he seriously accusing you of being a missionary?

“I mean c’mon! After 2 thousand years you still believe in fairy—”

“Multiverses! Do you know anything about the multiverse?”

The Doctor scoffed at your question, “Again with the ol’ multiverse nonsense. When will you learn that our timeline is a fixed one? If so much as a single alternate universe was created, it could greatly distort our reality and cause everything to collapse in on itself!”

“I am from an alternate multiverse! You said I had CMBR in my body. It was because I came from a universe where I accidentally absorbed the physical energies of our universe and…Uh, unknowingly came here. I-I just assumed that the properties of your universe would be close to mine.”

You let out a shaky breath. In the span of a few minutes, you’re entire worldview came crashing down in one single blow. Never, in the years you’ve been a sorcerer traveling the multiverse and higher dimensions alike, had you encountered a universe where the fate of humanity rested on a goddamn Englishman. In almost every parallel universe there existed at least a group of like-minded powerful protectors. Most universes had a Sorcerer Supreme, Avengers, or The Illuminati. With the magical energies residing within the universe, it guaranteed that every single universe had magical protectors of some kind. 

The Doctor’s eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape as he tried to process your words. The silence that enveloped you amplified the thoughts swarming in your head. You started to pick at the edge of the gauze around your palms trying to keep yourself calm. Breathe. In and out. 

“This is ridiculous. You seriously believe in alternate timelines?” The Doctor ran a hand through his hair. 

“I don’t know what rock you’ve been living under. Unless you got a better theory on how I acquired numerous burn marks and radiation, I’m going to find a way back home. If you’re not gonna help me then just give me my clothes and stuff. I’ll be out of your hair.”

“No, absolutely not. I mean this with all due respect, but you’re a mess. When we found you, you were a writhing, bloody mess.”

You rubbed your face and let out a deep groan, “I don’t have time for this. Seriously, if you’re not going to help I’ll grab my stuff and leave. With or without your permission.”

Turning away, you start to walk away and toward the entrance of the room. You only made it a few paces before a hand gently grabbed your wrist, stopping your advancement. Turning your head over your shoulder, you meet The Doctor’s worried face. 

He looked stuck in thought. Striking green eyes flittered between yours and around your face. You didn’t dare move a muscle. 

“Prove it,” his voice is above a whisper, but there is intent behind his words, “Prove that your universe exists. If what you’re saying is true, I will help you get back home. In the meantime, you’re going to have to stay here until you’re fully healed. There’s a chance your body would reject the radiation.”

If what he said about your robes were true, and the fact that seemingly none of your allies existed in this world, Eldritch magic wouldn’t be possible. You feel it in the stagnant air around you. Beyond the humming of machinery and electricity flowing between circuits, the void of space is dead. Back home, energies were a powerful current that you could barely control. An ocean of power that could drown you if you did not respect it. The universe you crashed into is empty and cold. 

“And if I can’t?” you clenched your hand to keep your voice steady.

The Doctor smiled, “Then you’ll have to stick by for a while.”

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[expectiations]

Do you have any Doctor x River fanfic recommendations?

cracks knuckles hang on this will definitely take a while. i crow every single moment i get over how i have such a soft spot for young!River fics so here and have your fill :D

even in your darkest hour, i'll never desert you by melodypond_thewomanwhomarriedme (sexymonk)

Study Date on Luna by Deriveress

‘Yes!’ He hadn’t even finished speaking when River jumped to her feet, pulled out a bag from beneath her bed and started haphazardly throwing things inside. ‘Oh, this will be great! That exam will be a piece of cake! And I always wanted to start a revolution.’ She stopped packing, smirking at him. River smiled, a brilliant thing that caused a strange, warm feeling in his chest.

I have no fear, I have only love by mnemosyne_musings

young days, made for mistakes by iknowyouthinkitsmebutitsnot

Seven Kisses by LittlePageAndBird

He’s no-one’s boyfriend. No. Absolutely not. But there's a (tiny, miniscule, microscopic) chance he might just be River Song’s husband. The same very young River Song who he picked up from a club last night (but only after she’d finished dancing with strange men who were not him), who serenaded the Tardis with a Queen song dressed in his old scarf, and who is now not only nursing the hangover from hell but demanding that he make her breakfast. Who's he trying to kid? Amy’s right. He’s so married.

And everything under the stars is in your arms by mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)

one of the earliest fics i've ever read and i love going back to from time to time. also one of my favoritest Doctor/River authors ever!!

Doctor River Song by tisziny

a short one but it's Pond fluff!! we love Pond fluff

i can't even recognize you now by orphan_account

The Curse of Curves by HellNHighHeels

She’s a menace. No, she’s a minx. She’s a menacing minxy distraction and he can’t be expected to handle her when she’s this young.

but if I fall for you, I'll never recover by Del (goddessdel)

"I've gone into a tiny box with a strange man - they know exactly what I'm doing."