#which means that desolate planet is gallifrey

[weird-tea]

So you know in the episode Listen with Orson Pink stranded on a mysterious planet at the end of the universe? And there are all those spooky noises outside? Yeah according to one of the audio dramas that Jack Harkness & River Song just fucking with him.

I do not know what to do with this information. It is simultaneously the dumbest explanation ever but also makes way too much sense for the Doctor Who Universe.

[a-wartime-paradox]

That time a YA Series crossed over with Doctor Who, and know we have solutions to who the Other, Yssgaroth, and Enemy are (2013) [Mimir Canon-Weld]

I was on the Doctor Who Discord Server (in the "canon-welding" channel) and @aristidetwain mentioned a short story called "The Nameless City", which was a crossover between Doctor Who and Michael Scott's Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel . Me and Ryan Fogarty then proceeded to Canon-Weld to regeneration.

This crossover featured the Archons from Scott's series, of which none are named in this crossover short, but in Scott's series three were named: Cernunnus, Coatlicue, and Mimir.

Cernunnus can obviously be can-welded to being @doctornolonger 's creation, Cernunnus the leader of the (original?) Mammoths.

Coatlicue was, within Scott's series, a scientist that turned herself into a monstrosity. According to the TARDIS wiki's "Behind the Scenes" section on the article "Archons (The Nameless City)", she is the "snake-like progenitor of all vampires", although I could not find any source for either the real-life Aztec god nor Scott's creation being either of these. If this were to be true, it allows for an obvious canon-weld with the King Vampires of the Yssgaroth.

"Out of her own DNA she created the original blood drinkers, who would eventually become your race. Coatlicue was the first vampire"

Now we come to Mimir, where things get crazy. In Norse myth, and in Scott's series, Mimir is mentioned to have "given knowledge to Odin". Of course, in my canon-welding mind, I see that literally any Head of the Gods is Rassilon Urizen the Architect. Who else is mentioned to have given Rassilon knowledge? The Other (PROSE: Lungbarrow). Hence, Mimir is the Other. This also fits with the "ancient being" origin for the Other. This means that the Great Houses were helped in development by a species that contained at least two notable members who would eventually become their worst enemies (Coatlicue/Yssgaroth and Cernnunos/The Enemy). The original short story The Nameless City says that the Archons created the seeds for the TARDISs timeships, and that Rassilon Urizen stole the seeds in a great war. This war, presumably, happened before the First War in Heaven / Yssgaroth War, due to the fact that the Great Houses do have timeships in that war. This also gives another motivator for the Yssgaroth in their War besides the Child-That-Was-Taken. The Archons are also mentioned to be the "last of the Old Ones, from the universe before this", but I normally interpret the "universe before this" to refer to the "time before this", i.e. the unachored universe. They also still have a homeworld, the titular Nameless City with the Great Desolation (presumably positioned outside normal spacetime, and I think the main Spiral Politic).

In conclusion, this canon-weld has resulted in a revised timeline (in my personal canon):

Before anything and everything

The Great Old Ones exist somehow.

Most of the Great Old Ones die off, or potentially construct their own Spirals, totally disconnected to the eventual Spiral Politic.

The shobogans are born on the planet Gallifrey

A group of the last Great Old Ones come together as the "Archons"

An order reminiscent of what the Great Houses will be are formed, and the Pythian Order leave Gallifrey (some going to the nearby planet Karn)

The Almost-Great Houses wage many wars against the peoples of the universe, especially the Archons.

Cernunnus creates many "mammoth empires" across the universe

Mimir, in an attempt to stop this devastating War, joins Urizen by his side, only to be remembered simply as "the other"

With the knowledge Mimir had granted him, Odin Urizen finally stole the timeship seeds the Archons had been growing, forcing them to surrender.

The Archons retreat to their own semi-anchored reality, the Great Desolation. Coatlicue presumably creates her own Spiral soon after this, spawning the Yssgaroth.

Tecteun discovers the Child-That-Was-Taken/Timeless Child under a "rift" (in reality one of the early anchors for the Anchoring of the Thread project, already being executed by Urizen). The other side of this rift could be presumed to be the Spiral Yssgaroth.

The Great Houses execute the Anchoring of the Thread, which immediately summons Coatlicue (the King Vampire) to their Homeworld, creating the caldera. The Yssgaroth War begins.

Blah blah blah Pre-War era, blah blah blah the War happens

[gayforthe13th]

Could you possibly do a fic where The Master has a companion (possibly romantically involved with) and 13 kidnaps them to try and get the Master to answer her questions, and he's really protective and angry. X

gender nonspecific reader in this one fellas! 

Also OOC Doctor and Master tbh

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   You were pretty sure the Master had dropped you back at home for the week, so why you could hear the wheezing sound of a TARDIS was an absolute mystery to you. It took you a minute to realize you were inside of it, the ground shaking beneath you as you opened your groggy eyes and scanned the room. Something was clearly wrong. For one, this wasn’t the Master’s TARDIS, this was all blue and orange and metal, and for another, the person currently piloting the ship was not your boyfriend. The woman in question turned to you as soon as she saw you shift and rubbed the back of her neck almost guiltily for a moment, then her eyes steeled over. “Look I know you have questions, and I’m sorry but the Master knows you. He always comes for what’s his. It’s the only way I can reach him.” There’s something familiar about the woman that you can’t quite place just yet. With a groan, you place your hands flat on the ground and attempt to push yourself onto your knees.

  “What did you do to me?” you ask, as your knees wobble below you. The woman bites her lip, turning away from you and going back to the task she had been working on before.

   “Mild sedative,” she says her voice flat, “it’ll wear off.”

   “You kidnapped me!” you growl, balancing yourself on the crystal pillar behind you as you attempt to stand. “When he finds you, he’ll kill you.” the woman’s eyes grow dark, she fixes you with a stare that has you cowering back against the pillar.

  “He won’t,” she says matter-of-factly. It dawns on you who she is at that moment. You realise with a start that you’re standing in the presence of the Doctor, the Master’s oldest enemy. He’s told you about her before, how she was known as the oncoming storm, how she left nothing but destruction in her wake. Your fingers dig into the pillar as you feel your legs strengthen.

   The Doctor lands the ship with a thud and you suck in a breath as she comes around and offers you her hand and for a moment she seems almost kind. You refuse to take it, pushing past her and running outside. You find yourself very far from home, on a desolate planet, the wind harsh and biting. The Doctor catches up to you before you can make it far, she places a firm hand on your shoulder. “It’s dangerous to go any further,” she says, “I don’t want to hurt you..” the but I will if I need to if left unsaid and yet, you know exactly what she means.

  “No you just want to hurt him!” you growl, attempting to tear yourself from her grip but her hand wraps around your wrist, effectively trapping you. 

  “What has he told you about me?”

  “Th-that you’re a liar! That you get people killed! That you’re a monster!” the Doctor’s gaze is cold, your shiver in her grasp pulling in an attempt to get free. 

  “If I’m the monster, then you don’t know him like I do.” You’re about to bite back with your own remark when behind you, the Master’s TARDIS lands with a thud and he rushing outside with his hands balled into fists and a fire in his eyes.

  “Let them go,” his voice is steady, but you can feel the anger leave him in waves, the Doctor’s grip tightens.

  “Tell me what you know! Tell me why you destroyed Gallifrey!” she says. You don’t want to be here. You already know the answer, the Master had told you what had happened one night when sleep was just out of his reach and he felt utterly alone. You trusted him, you knew he did what he had to and whatever fight they’ve had, whatever they’ve done, it had nothing to do with you. Trapped between them you felt small, like a mere child standing between gods. The Master’s eyes flicker to you, his gaze softens like he could feel your fear. 

   “I won’t ask you again…” he threatens, “let them go, or I’ll kill you.” one of his hands digs into his pockets, he pulls out his laser screwdriver and points it at her, “don’t test me, Doctor.”

  “You won’t kill me, Master. Drop this stupid act!” the Doctor pulls you back, shielding your body with her own, it only serves to upset the Master more. He takes a step forward, she takes one back. “Since when have you ever cared about a human this much? You’re willing to kill me over them?” she spits out like she truly believes you’re nothing to him. Just a pawn in their game. 

   Your eyes start to water, you’re trying not to cry but the harsh wind is pushing tears from you. It’s your crying that sets the Master off, in one swift movement he has the Doctor by the throat, squeezing just hard enough for her grip on you to loosen. He drops her once you’re free, and as she struggles to catch her breath he’s pulling you away from her and into his arms which he keeps protectively wrapped around you, one arm still extended towards the Doctor with the screwdriver in hand. The Doctor pales as if she’d realized what she had done. You’re crying in his arms now, giving to the fear as you bury your face in his chest. “I..I’m sorry,” she says, but the damage is already done.

  “You can rot,” the Master growls, “knowing I’ll never tell you a thing.” He’s making his way back to his ship with you before she can say another word. 

-

  “Are you alright?” you ask him, once the two of you are inside. He was leaning against the console, his eyes shut tight. He only opens them when you speak, eying you for a moment before pushing off the console and making his way towards you. 

  “I should be asking you that,” he says, placing a gentle hand on your arm, you press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and resting your forehead on his shoulder. He sways you gently, placing a kiss to your head.

“I’m alright,” you say, “she didn’t get what she wanted in the end.”

  “She got you,” he says, “the last thing I want is to lose you to someone like her.” you shaking your head, lifting it just enough so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. 

  “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” you say as you pull back. He nods, his hands shaking as he cups your cheek and pulls you into another kiss.

[wykart]

Bill meets 13

New fic where 13 meets yet another one of her previous companions (as well as a little run in with 12) 

Title: Wrong TARDIS

Summary: Two timeships in the wrong place at the wrong time. The Thirteenth Doctor comes face to face with her previous incarnation and a friend she's still grieving.

just some fluff and humour :)

read here on ao3, chapter 1 under the cut

Chariot station; a classy observation deck orbiting one of the fifty seven moons of the planet Krasterfell 7 – an unremarkable world by most standards, war-torn and desolate – but, it had a spectacular view of the Medusa Cascade, a place that the Doctor had explained to Yaz (eyes wide and bouncing with excitement) was her favourite galaxy in the cosmos. Now, if only the Doctor would let her out to see it.

“Yaz, can you pull the wibbly lever?” The Doctor called from below the TARDIS console. She was sitting down amongst the scrap of wires and glowing crystalline pillars, attempting to fix… something. Every now and then there would be a particularly large spark or a clatter of metal, usually followed by a strangled yelp and sometimes a garbled mess of ridiculous curses, her favourite of which was, ‘jammy-dodgers on a bike.’ How the Doctor managed to say these things while sounding angry was a mystery, but it made for some great entertainment while Yaz waited for her to finish.

“The what now?” Yay yelled back while scanning the console for something resembling the Doctor’s description. The TARDIS interface was composed of all manner of strange objects glued together into a haphazard and unorganised mess that by some miracle, functioned as a time machine. It really wasn’t something that one would expect from a legendary spacecraft.

The Doctor let out another yelp as a spark fizzled out with a resounding crack. “Oh, Dalek tits!” she yelled, “sorry Yaz,” she added, as if this was the worse language Yaz had ever been subjected to. “Err, it’s sort of red and it looks like a curly fry – oh!” She exclaimed, seeming to lose her train of thought, as she so often did “I haven’t had fries in this body, oh Yaz, what if I don’t like fries? What if this body doesn’t like fries, can’t have a universe without –“

“Doctor!” Yaz interrupted, stifling a laugh, “I’ve found it, just crank it yeah?”

“Yep that’s right Yaz, give it a good’ol crank.” Yasmin reached over the mass of controls and pulled down of the curly fry lever. Instantly, the lights went out.

“Aww Rassilon’s bleeding arse.” The Doctor groaned from below decks. She let her tools fall to the ground with a deafening clang, defeated.

“I’m sorry, I thought I pressed the right one!” Yaz says, trying to feel her way towards the stairs.

“No, it’s not your fault,” the Doctor popped her head up from beneath the console deck. Yaz could just make out the outlines of her comically large goggles she wore when tinkering, which she had insisted were the epitome of ‘practicality and style.’ “It’s quite possible that there was more than one wibbly lever… I didn’t think to check so far. This new interface is great though, biscuit dispensers, two wibbly levers! What will she think of next?”

“Well, the great new interface doesn’t seem to be working now.”

“Oi, she’s trying her best alright, aren’t ya love,” she murmured gently, stroking the floor absent-mindedly. Yaz thought she would never stoop so low as to feel jealous of a wooden box, yet here she was. As if in response, a low humming sound began to emanate from the centre of the ship, sending a faint orange glow pulsing from the normally vibrant crystalline structures. “See Yaz, told you!” The Doctor exclaimed, jumping to her feet in such a hurry that she almost hit her head on the floor of the deck above. “Lucky I’m so short now,” she muttered, stepping towards the centre of the peculiar machine. She parted layers of wires and metal-rimmed tubing like drapes letting in the morning sun – the mesmerising glow of the TARDIS streaming through the opening. “Look at her go,” she Doctor said, awestruck, “she’s found some sort of external energy source – even out here orbiting a desolate world she’s tapping in to a stream of residual artron energy – look,” she shifted to the side so that Yaz could get a better view. Taking the younger girl’s hand in her own, she moved Yap’s fingertips towards the ball of energy dancing behind that dense jungle of circuit boards and alien machinery.

“See here Yaz,” the Doctor continued, voice softening in the way it always did when she was explaining something like this; something extraordinary and whimsical, something hopeful. “This stuff exists all across the universe – across every universe – like a fingerprint or breath on glass, it’s invisible, but there’s always a trace, the thread that weaves the cosmos together, and this ship harnesses that energy in order to traverse it.” Yaz watched in awe as her fingertips touched that swirling glow – it was warm and fizzing with life. She almost felt as if her body was about to unravel, become one with that brilliant light. “What d’ya think, eh?” The Doctor asks, turning to face Yaz with wide, expectant eyes. Yaz turns slowly, almost unable to tear her eyes away from the light. With the Doctor’s wide, brilliant smile waiting for her, looking away from an ancient broil of vortex energy doesn’t seem so bad. Yasmin’s eyes reflect gold against the light of the vortex, as she stares into the Doctor’s similarly radiant stare, leaning in –

“Wait!” The Doctor yells, so loudly and so abruptly that Yaz jumps. The Doctor hastily rearranges the metal layers of machinery back over the golden light, plunging the room into comparable darkness. The Doctor reels around, sniffing the air in suspicion. As she does, Yaz notices the lights beginning to power up once again, and the familiar whirrs and chirps of the TARDIS fill the empty spaces surrounding.

“Wow, that was quick, I promise I’ll pull the right wibbly lever this time.” Yaz chuckled, getting to her feet and walking up on deck once again.

“No, no this is wrong, it shouldn't have been able to power up so quickly.”

“Well, we just got lucky didn’t we. Just finish up what you were doing and we can go out and see the galaxy” finally, she wanted to add, but kept her mouth shut. Yaz moved to tap the Doctor on the shoulder, grinning “your favourite galaxy in the whole universe, remember?” The Doctor jumped at her touch, and Yaz tried to disguise her hurt as the Doctor went on pacing around the console, ignoring her. The way her eyes grew wide and blank, Yaz could almost see her brain going into overdrive, gears spinning at break-neck pace behind the eyes.

“It should’ve taken at least twenty-four hours for the TARDIS to scrounge up this much artron energy – it’s a trace, remember, not exactly an abundant resource – very rare, very deadly in high concentrations.”

“What are you saying?” Yaz asked, concerned.

“I’m saying there must be another time traveller here – and I’m not talking about some novice like Taco –“

“Krasko.” Yaz corrected.

“Whatever – with his silly vortex manipulator. Have I told you how much I hate those things? They’re downright horrible –“

“Yeah, yeah, cheap and nasty time travel you only mention it every time we come across one. What were you saying?”

“Sorry, sorry Yaz I’m rambling to stop myself from worrying, because I’m properly worrying Yaz, I’m –“

“Doctor, it’s okay. You don’t have to shelter me if it’s dangerous, I can handle it.”

“In such high concentrations, that and the fact that the energy was instantaneously TARDIS compatible with little to no conversion on our part means that there is another TARDIS here, now.”

“And that’s bad?”

“Potentially very, also nigh on impossible. Maybe it’s Clara, wouldn’t that be a nice surprise eh?” The Doctor let herself smile for a moment before scrunching her face up in concentration again. “Either that or it’s another time lord, which means they’ve found a way out of their little self-contained pocket dimension and they’ve decided to pay a visit.”

“But they’re your people right?” Yaz asked, still struggling to understand the Doctor’s fear at this prospect. “Isn’t that good, didn’t you say they were lost?”

“Lost yes, but for good reason. They may not be about to rage war on all creation but they’ve definitely got it in for me after the stunt I pulled last time I was on Gallifrey.” She grabbed Yaz by the shoulders with fierce intensity, trying to communicate the gravity of the situation. “They’re called Time Lords for a reason Yaz, they have appointed themselves overseers, sort of curators of time. I’m a traveller that does a lot of interfering, and they’ve been trying to put a stop to that for a long time. If they’re here, then they’re here for me – and I… I don’t think I can stop them.” Her voice trailed off in her realisation, all her usual energy drained out of her.

“What are they gonna do to you.” Yaz murmured.

“Oh, imprisonment, torture, exile, induced regeneration, it really is a gamble with that lot. More importantly, you. Last time they found me with humans on board they stripped them of all memory of me and dropped them back on earth as if I was never there.”

“No,” Yaz muttered, shaking her head, “no they can’t do that.”

The Doctor turns to meet her gaze, her expression despairing, as if she was already imagining herself through the situation. Worse, she knew just how Yaz felt, and she couldn’t let it happen again. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, looking at Yaz with a sort of hopeless longing that looked so out of place on the face of a woman always so full of life and hope, always so carefree. “I’m so sorry.” She pulled her eyes away, as if she couldn’t bear to look at her. Yaz knew what she was feeling – it was guilt.

“Right,” the Doctor nodded, pulling herself together and slapping a smile back onto her face “no use worrying about it now, I could be wrong. It doesn’t happen regularly but there’s a first time for everything.” Yaz rolled her eyes, smiling, trying desperately not to think about a world without the Doctor, without the TARDIS and the universe and that beautiful tangle of artron energy guiding them along. That had been her world up until a few weeks ago – but now she couldn’t even imagine going back. Worse still, she thought of the Doctor, the bright, beautiful, fierce Doctor who sometimes let her smile slip away and show the enduring pain beneath it. Imprisonment, torture, exile, induced regeneration. Wasn’t that like murder? The time lords were going to kill the Doctor and it would be all her fault for pulling that stupid curly fry lever. Lost in the turmoil of her thoughts, and the sound of the Doctor fiddling with machinery and whirring her sonic, Yaz didn’t notice the figure approaching the TARDIS doors. It was a woman’s voice, hardly the imposing, regal tone she was expecting.

“Oh! there you are,” the voice exclaimed, hardly a tone of reckoning judgement, more like one of pleasant surprise. Her words echoed into the box as she went to open the doors. “I was starting to think I’d gotten los–“ The woman stops short as she entered the entryway, doors creaking inwards as the light of the TARDIS cast a warm glow onto her face. She wore a denim jacket bedecked with patches and enamel pins representing everything from fry packets to flying saucers, and her coiled dark hair sprouted upwards in a tangled ball above dark eyes widened in shock.  Bigger on the inside, Yaz thought, you get used to it. “What the hell happened to the Tardis?” She marvelled, scanning the room until her eyes came to rest on Yasmin. “Oh, hi there,” she said, friendly warmth mixed with a poignant brand of confusion. “Sorry, who are you? My friend was in here a second ago but err…” her eyes once again scanned the room in shock, “something’s happened.”

“Um,” she faltered, wondering if this was some sort of trick. “I’m Yaz. Who are you looking for?”

“The Doctor, have you seen him?” Yaz hesitated before answering, but she was almost completely sure this girl wasn’t a time lord. It wasn’t a risky assumption to make between the patches on her jacket reading things like ‘fries before guys,’ and ‘I was abducted by aliens.’ In fact, Yaz was fairly certain she had seen that exact pin at the shopping centre in Sheffield.

"Err, yeah she’s just below deck – hey Doctor?” She shouted, trying to be heard over the continuing clanging of machinery below.

“Yeah I’m working on it Yaz!” She called back, evidently flustered. “I’m just trying to identify the energy signature and work out our best move, I can do this,” she sounded more as if she were reassuring herself. “I promise you.”

“W-wait,” the woman stuttered, craning her neck to the source of the Doctor’s voice.

“It’s not that, it’s err… someone’s here looking for you and I’m pretty sure she’s not a Time Lord.”

“Doctor, is that you?” She called out, seeming skeptical. Once again, the Doctor poked her head up over the landing to rest her chin on the floor above. Her goggles were propped up on her forehead, setting her short blonde hair sticking out at electric angles. Her eyes widened comically at the sight of the newcomer. Not taking her eyes off the woman, the Doctor scrambled up the stairs clumsily and stepped slowly towards her – brushing past Yasmin with not so much as a second glance. The woman looked taken aback, and still very clearly confused. The Doctor continued forward, taking long, methodical strides like an animal closing in on its prey, she still wasn’t blinking as she lent forwards, peering up at the taller woman. She stuck her chin up, cocking her head to one side while narrowing her eyes.

“Bill.” She murmured, barely audibly, in an unreadable monotone.

[blueyesandleatherjacket]

Stand by me

► Stand by me - Ninth Doctor/Rose Tyler. ► Here's my submission to the @dwsecretsanta for reallyginnyf. I hope you'll enjoy it! ► DW Verse, All ages. ► 4,160 words.

“Kiss me and stay with me / Towa ni saku hana / Awaku hakanaku tsuyoku / Now could you smile for me / Nani mo nakute ii / Zutto soba ni ite hoshii / Zutto soba de stand by me.” - Anna Tsuchiya.

His chest tightened as his boots treaded in the reddish sand of his home planet. He hadn’t come here in a very long time. He admitted willingly that he had avoided coming back. This was supposed to be home but it never felt like it. Not to him. And today, it felt even less like home than usual. The atmosphere was thick, still. Unbearable. Unbreathable. His feet came to a stop and he closed his eyes. He did an attempt at taking a deep breath but the wind blowing here, on this plateau leading to the Citadel, brought grains of sand to this face, filled his mouth and nose and caused him to cough so roughly that it felt like someone was using sandpaper in his throat. He needed something fresh to drink, something to make this unpleasant feeling disappear. Water. There was a time he would have known where to find some but today the place only offered him reddish sand, burnt red grass, naked mountains.

Desolation was the name that came to his mind immediately. There was a place with this sad title somewhere in time and space. It was a place where scientists used to run their experiences until Stenzas came around and slaughtered everyone abandoning the place with the unusual deadly weapons sleeping there. Even the water could kill you. Somewhere you definitely didn’t want to go to. Next to this planet, Gallifrey was heaven with its damaged beautiful landscapes and broken Citadel. The dead trees were raising their branches to the burning skies and suns as a silent prayer for the rain to come. Like him, they desperately needed water to survive. But water wouldn’t come. Not until he got it. So he forced himself to put one foot after the other, clinging to the hope that the broken globe where the shadow of the once most powerful town of the whole constellation of Kasterbouros was left to die.

The wind sneaked under the battered leather jacket and light green jumper he was wearing and the contact of this violent warm blow on his cold skin made him tremble furiously. Each step was a torture as if his feet were stuck in the sandy ground. The suns were striking his back persistently, burning his pale skin. He couldn’t force his body to adjust its temperature and walk. He knew that if he was stopping there, he would die. He wouldn’t even have the strength to regenerate. He brought the sides of his jacket closer around his chest and bowed his head to protect himself from the wind and the waves of sand scratching his face and hands, finding their way in his eyes, nose, throat and under his clothes. He was coughing and rubbing his eyes but it was only adding exhaustion to his broken self. He shielded his eyes with his hand and looked for the Citadel. It was there, standing before him far, so far that it was like he hadn’t moved at all.

He was breathless and his lungs were on fire when he reached the town finally. His muscles were begging for him to soak into a nice bath and to get some rest. Anything that wouldn’t imply moving. A sigh escaped his dry lips. They were so dry that this simple move brought the taste of blood on his tongue. He should be relieved to have reached the town but the feeling of oppression tightened around his chest. For a moment, not even is bypass respiratory system could catch a bit of oxygen. The atmosphere was too thick, too heavy. His breathing was nothing more than a raspy rale and his hearts were furiously pounding in his chest. He swallowed tiny grains of sand when he tried bringing some water to his mouth and it worsened his throat’s condition. Despite the complaint of his body, he dragged himself inside the Citadel. The ruins of the buildings that used to reached the sky were protecting him from the wind and the aggressive sand.

They hadn’t sent him any welcoming committee. He hadn’t expected one. If Gallifrey was a desertic land now, that was because of him, because of the filthy war they were involved into. The couple Time Lords he had managed to save before pressing the damn button of the Moment were now convoking him for a trial. An unfair trial because he knew how it would end: with his death. The fact that they forced his TARDIS to land at the barn so he would have to cross the desertic land to the Citadel was a big enough proof of it. They probably hoped he would die on the way. Which he didn’t miraculously. It was only a question of time now. He reached the Council room. The freshness of the place made him shiver. After the burning suns outside, it was almost pleasurable. Bu it was too violent for his body. He trembled. The members of the reduced Council were already sitting there behind the table in their long red robes and weird hats. He hadn’t even thought of dressing for the occasion.

They were speaking and speaking and speaking and all he could was force himself to stay up on his feet, to keep his eyes open. Their voices were coming to him like echoes, as if he was underwater. The situation felt like drowning indeed. This trial never came to an end as too familiar voices and noises. An icy shiver ran down his back. A hand grabbed his hearts and tightened, tightened, tightened the embrace until he couldn’t breathe anymore, until black dots filled his sight, until his brain turned into a mass of confusing cotton. He couldn’t think clearly anymore and the terrified beating of his hearts were resounding, the rush of his blood in his veins were deafening.

  “Doctor?”

  The voice came out of nowhere. It didn’t belong there. It was… It was the voice of the Moment’s consciousness but it sounded different, very different from when he pressed the button that destroyed Gallifrey, the Time Lords and the Daleks. Everyone and everything were gone. There were nothing and no one left. And it was worse, so much worse than the idea of a trial on a desolate planet. He fell to his knees and with the tiny little reserve of air he had left, he screamed his rage and despair.

  x

  The Doctor woke up suddenly. His body was tangled in the sheets and he was fighting against them, against their hold on him, against their mugginess. He was still screaming at the top of his lungs, couldn’t stop himself. Someone was calling him, he thought. Was it the echo of his nightmare? No, it was real. As real as the sting of a slap on his cheek. As real as the woman staring at him worriedly.

  “Rose?”

  He choked on the word. His throat was on fire. He automatically grabbed the glass of water the blonde human offered him. He tossed the straw aside and drank greedily, not giving a damn care about the fact he was wasting half of it by spilling it on his damp shirt and shorts. He looked for more water. Rose filled the glass again and he drank it just as quickly and greedily as the first time. He did the same with the third glass but didn’t find any relief. It was frustrating.

  “Feeling better now?”

“No.”

  His voice was gruff. He was rude. The memories of his dream haunted him and he felt worse than previously. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so miserable. Maybe in his fourth incarnation. Rose pressed a hand on his forehead and he groaned. Her hands were cold.

  “I’m no specialist in Time Lords but you’re pretty hot.”

“What d’you mean?”

  Talking was hard. He needed to cough. Something was itching the back of his throat and it was unbearable. And his head was throbbing. He closed his eyes and fell back into the pillows and mattress. He was in his own bedroom but his mind was too clouded for him to wonder how Rose could have found him there. Rose Tyler. The Moment. Bad Wolf. He was getting lost in his own thoughts. They made no sense. He was losing it.

  x

  He was standing in the middle of a room full of computers. Alone, broken, on the edge of breaking up. They were coming closer. His enemies, the Daleks. He could hear them climbing the floors, exterminating everyone on their path to get to him. All these innocent lives sacrificed for him. He couldn’t handle this. Not anymore. The Delta Wave wasn’t finished. It wouldn’t be. There had been too many deaths in his name. He had to stop it now. He closed his eyes, waited. Only the sound of his anxious hearts was reaching his ears. It would be over very soon. The pain, the guilt, the silence of his mind… It would be all over soon. The relief would come. But was he allowed to even get this relief? Wouldn’t it be an act of mercy? He didn’t deserve mercy but death was all he was craving for. He was gonna be accomplished soon.

  “The Doctor is an enemy of the Daleks. The Doctor must be exterminated.”

  The death rays came and he did nothing to avoid it. He welcomed it. If the Daleks could have known something as beautiful and pure as a laugh, they would have exulted. But he was the winner on that one. He was dead. He fell to the ground, a smile on his face. But the relief never came. He had given up, leaving the universe to the Daleks, desperately aware that it stood no chance. He was a monster. It was worse than killing his entire race. This time, he had condemned the whole of time and space.

  x

  He woke up with a start once again. The room was plunged in the dark and he was alone, desperately alone. He was breathing quickly, too quickly and it turned into a violent coughing fit. He sought for light and water, the first that would come to his hand. He was supposed to be able to see in the dark but the darkness was too thick. His hand met the objects on bedside table. They all fled from his fingers; everything fell. He was disoriented, all his senses were a mess. That’s how he managed to fall from his bed. Despite the pain in all his muscles, he crawled to the bathroom. He forced himself up to his feet. His hands were clinging on the edge of the sink. He was afraid that if he loosened his hold, he would fall again. He managed to switch on the light of the room. The sudden luminosity attacked his eyes and he had to frown to bear it, a frown that only made his headache worse. But it was nothing compared to his reflection in the mirror.

His face was pale, so pale it was almost translucent. Thin pearls of sweat were gleaming on his large forehead. His short hair had cowlicks everywhere. His eyes were lifeless and the bags under them were more present than ever. His cheeks were covered with the shadow of a beard but it didn’t hide the fact that they had grown gaunt. His clothes wee all crumpled and damp. And he was trembling, trembling like a scared puppy. He looked miserable. He felt miserable. How long had been struggling against his sheets and nightmares? He rummaged through the medicine cupboard and grabbed the thermometer and put it in his ear. He usually could tell if he had fever but he was so messed up that he couldn’t be sure of anything. The device beeped and he pulled it out of his ear. His eyes grew big when he saw the internal temperature of his body. 64,4. Three degrees above the normal temperature of a Time Lord. He had fever.

For a moment, he didn’t know what to think or what to do. He had said it many times: Time Lords had a superior biology that was protecting them from every single thing that was making the humans vulnerable. What would he look like to her eyes now? A coughing fit shook him. He dropped the thermometer in the sink and gripped the edge tighter. His body was giving up on him. It didn’t have the strength to fight the sickness and stand like this. He couldn’t bear the sight of his reflection either. It reminded him too much of the looks he had after the Time War: all messed up and weak and vulnerable. He closed his eyes. The screams were still there, echoing in his mind. He fell to his knees. The voices were louder. Some were supplications, others were screams of pain and there were those frightening echoes of hate, those robotic emotionless voices belonging to the worst killers of this universe. He pressed his hands against his ears as if it could shut them all up and closed his eyes tighter as the dizziness and nausea of his self-disgust and condition were overwhelming him.

  “I’m sorry,” he cried. “I’m so sorry. That’s not what I wanted. I had no choice.”

  His pleading apologies had no effect on the screams resounding under his skulls. If anything, it made everything worse. Begging, making excuses, plugging his ears, trying to hide in the ground… It was all childish reactions. He was being irrational, couldn’t think clearly anymore when images of the slaughter he had greatly participated in were playing in his mind. Maybe was he screaming, as if his own yells could cover the others. Maybe was he crying. Maybe was he just laying lifeless on the ground. Whatever he was doing, he wasn’t aware of it.

  x

  In the nineteen years of her life and the couple months she had spent with the Doctor hadn’t prepared her for the sight she had when she pushed open the door of his bathroom: the strong proud Time Lord all curled up on the ground, hugging himself and crying and begging. For a minute, she was so astonished that she didn’t move or say anything. He was asleep when she had left the room to eat a bit of food. The fever had given him some frightening nightmares during the past few days but his sleep was calm earlier. That was why she had allowed herself to have a small break from watching over him. She would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. “Time Lords don’t get sick, Rose” had he claimed before he started sneezing. Things had gone fast from there. He had pretexted a headache – that might have been true in the end – and the next hour, she was hearing a scream and finding him in complete terror, unable to even know who she was.

She obviously didn’t know how to take care of a sick Doctor. Time Lords were very different from humans he often said so she hadn’t dared giving hum any medication… Not that she had found any in the med bay anyway. Plus, every computer was displaying those weird circular symbols the TARDIS wasn’t translating. Not for her at least. She couldn’t leave him alone in this condition either. So she had done like her mother would have. She had taken care of him as if he was a child that couldn’t be taken to the doctor or have any medication. Which happened a lot when you were raised in the estates. None of what she had done had seemed to have any effects on him though. It broke her human heart to see her friend struggling against the sickness, against the demons hiding inside him. He had been speaking about a war once, one that had destroyed his people. Was it what he was dreaming of?

She knelt down beside him and softly cupped his cheek, ignoring the fact that she could distinctly feel the bone under her fingers. She called his name. She had to draw his attention on her without scaring him – even if he would never admit that she had scared him. How would he react if he thought she was an enemy? He looked up but she doubted he was seeing her with all the demons whirling in his eyes. He wasn’t there with her. He was elsewhere, in hell or in the graveyard of his people, somewhere where he was asking for a forgiveness no one would ever give him. Maybe if she… She gently squeezed the hand he was holding out to her. How Time Lords were doing to forgive someone?

  “I forgive you, Doctor,” she simply declared.

  She hoped it would be enough for his mind to be in peace. That’s the only thing she could do at the moment. The Doctor gave her a sad smile and she knew she had failed. He didn’t believe her. Forgiveness had to be earned and he didn’t deserve it. Not yet, not ever.

  “You should be in bed.”

  Her hand was stroking his face slowly and it seemed to bring him some relief. He was shaking and his fever was no better. She would have to use those wet towels again. First, she had to do something for his sheets. He couldn’t stay in this bed. It wouldn’t do him any good. She grabbed the blanket on the top of the bed and brought it to the Doctor and helped him to sit up against the sink’s cupboard. She wrapped him in the blanket for him not to be cold though the TARDIS was making sure the temperature of the room was perfect.

  “I’m gonna change the sheets. Make a clean bed for you to rest better.”

  She asked him not to move and he almost laughed. As if he could go anywhere with how sore his body was. He pulled the blanket closer around him and just waited. It was very unusual of him but he feared that if he moved, she would be sick. His head was pounding so much it was unbearable. He sniffled and was given a “wipe your nose, baby Doctor!” He snorted but did wipe his nose. It required all his attention and strength. He threw the tissue in the closest bin. The time to reach it and Rose was back in the bathroom. She helped him back to his bed. The feeling of fresh and clean sheets was very pleasurable. He let out a soft sigh.

  “Now that you’re awake, I can finally feed you. You’ve been drifting in and out of sleep for three days.”

“I can feed myself very well, thank you.”

  Three days? He must have been really unwell to have slept three days without noticing it. He silently made the list of all his symptoms and came to a simple conclusion: the flu. It had to be the flu. They had landed on Earth in 2019 and were welcomed with an epidemy of this nasty virus. He had kept Rose in the TARDIS to avoid the burden of a sick companion only to be rewarded with the flu himself.

  “Oh yeah? I’d like to see you go to the kitchen,” she retorted.

  As hard as it was to admit it, she was right. Even if the kitchen was moving close to his room, he wouldn’t be able to reach it. The journey to the bathroom had already been hell and it was just a few steps away from his bed. Rose folded her arms on her chest and waited for him to move from his comfortable and warm bed. She raised an eyebrow but he didn’t look away: he held her gaze. She huffed.

  “You’re better enough to stand up against me but not enough to take care of yourself. Stop being so proud, Doctor.”

  She left the room before he could add anything. For a moment, he felt stupid. Three days. She had been taking care of him for three freaking days. She had watched over him, comforted him, made sure he was recovering slowly but surely despite not knowing what to do to relieve him or how to really help. And he was thanking her by being a perfect jerk because he was too proud to say thank you. What kind of man was he to play it like that? Someone who hated being vulnerable, someone who wanted to be impressive in her eyes. He said nothing when she came back and put a tray on his lap after he managed to sit against a pile of pillows. He wasn’t hungry but he made the effort to eat a little. How much time had she spent cooking this soup and bread for him? It was homemade. The taste, the smell, the looks, all of it was telling him that she cooked everything for him, that she knew it would be perfect for his current condition.

  “Rose…” he tried.

  She was standing at the bottom of his bed, patiently waiting for him to be done so she could take the tray back to the kitchen and leave the place. She was furious and he felt bad for being the cause of it. She wasn’t waiting for apologies. She wouldn’t get any from him.

  “You know what? I’ve been sitting there for three days. Three days of watching you struggling against the fever, against the nightmares, against the sickness, against the panic attacks. I’ve helped you through all of it, cooked for you, tried to find ways to relieve you from the sickness and what do I get? A grumpy Time Lord being too proud to say thank you when I’ve just picked the pieces of him up from the ground.”

“I just wanted to apologise. You’re right all down the line.” She was truly surprised by his words but didn’t let it appear on her face. “I’m very thankful for what you’ve done for me.”

“Well, you’re not showing it the right way.”

“I’m gonna have to stay in bed some more but I can make a list of meds to get from the infirmary for me.”

“As if I was gonna do anything more for you.”

“I… I need you.”

  She snorted. He was telling the truth but it was so unusual of him that she had troubles believing it. She was waiting for what was coming next. The Doctor realised how much she looked like her mother when she was acting like this, and Jackie Tyler was no woman to be coaxed easily.

  “Those nightmares I have…”

“They’re about the war, I know. I’ve heard you.”

  Her voice had softened and he wondered what he had said in his sleep hat was so explicit. His dreams were so vivid that it was like being back on the battlefield with the smell of blood and death and dust, with the sight of the slaughter, with the sound of the bodies falling one after another, the guns firing, the screams of pain and horror. And death, death everywhere, countless dead bodies. Friends, enemies, colleagues, superiors, strangers… All of them dead, and he was alive. How unfair was that?

  “Doctor, look at me!”

  How many times had she been calling him before her voice reached him? The tray was no longer on his lap and her hands were on his face. His eyes met hers and the magic worked. It shut off the screams and pain and guilt. It was still there, in a part of his mind, ready to come back.

  “Breathe slowly and deeply, okay? Slow and deep.”

  Easy to say when you weren’t the one suffering from anxiety and from a nasty flu. His chest burnt as he struggled against the panic strangling him. His hands were clutching the sheets. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, to focus on her voice and to follow her advices for once. Had she ever gone through this in her life? She was so young. What could have happened to her?

  “I just…” he started when he could speak again. “Please, stay with me.”

“As if I was gonna leave you alone,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “You’d be able to wait for death to come.”

“Oi!”

  It was a joke and his offended reaction brought a smile to her tired face. He smiled back at her. He was so glad to have found this adorable little human. She mocked him for being a domestic Time Lord in the end and she suspected that the situation wasn’t entirely unpleasant to him. It was quite embarrassing to be sharing the same bed but having her close, having her taking care of him ever so gently and patiently was reassuring for him. Too bad that it was only for a few days, until he had fully recovered from the flu…

Stand by me © | 2019 | Tous droits réservés.

×××

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[colorofmymindposts]

Hope for the Stars Complete

Fandom: Doctor Who 

Pairing: Gen, Implied Doctor/Master 

Warnings: Alternate Ending to series 10, Major Canon Divergence

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences 

Status: This is the last update for my series The Doctor Falls officially, meaning the series is finally complete! Definitely read parts two and three for necessary context. 

Word Count: 1753 

Chapter: 2/2 

Summary: Ohila and other parties have become suspicious about the Doctor’s whereabouts. They investigate and come to a startling conclusion. 

Tags: POV Ohila, Interrogation, Time Skip from Previous Chapters 

View my work here on ao3! 

Even Ohila can admit to herself these days that she grows weary with involving herself in the personal politics of Time Lords, particularly of one who travels in a TARDIS disguised as a police phone box from Earth circa 1963 CE. Still, she and the Sisterhood of Karn are the only conduit through which the High Council has any presence in this universe. And this summons must be answered.

A rumor has been floating around of late, entailing the heroics of a mysterious lone traveler running about on planets, starships, desolate wastelands answering distress calls of the most extreme and dire nature. The distress calls no one would dare answer, save for the Doctor. The description of the time-space interdimensional capsule spotted by the locals matches that of his TARDIS, but this individual they speak of...should the accounts be true, this means the universe is in more peril than ever before.

Ohila’s present task is to verify whether or not the Doctor is still in possession of his vessel or if someone else has commandeered it. Whoever this TARDIS pilot is has been eagerly responsive to distress calls, so theoretically such a call for help to the surface of Karn should suit Ohila’s purposes quite well.

The precision is something Ohila notes to herself. Within just a few hours of the sending of the distress signal, the TARDIS arrives on planet’s surface. Her sisters stand guard in front of the cave leading to the Sacred Flame while Ohila conceals herself behind one of the many large rock formations.

Out of those doors appears one of the High Council’s most feared suspects in this case. Ohila has met her once in passing, when the Doctor had requested she deliver his Confession Dial to his closest friend: the Mistress, formerly known as the Master. Despite having a reputation for burning through bodies the quickest out of any Time Lord, the Mistress has retained the form Ohila last saw her in. The Time Lady is still dressed in what would be considered high-fashion in Earth’s Victorian era: a refined straw hat with ribbon and feathers protruding off the top tilts towards the right of her face, a well-fit violet evening gown overlaid by a similarly colored overcoat, and black leather boats that kick up the dust on Karn’s surface with the Mistress’s every step.

“Oh Sisterhood? Of the planet Karn? What do you lot call yourselves nowadays? Still Gallifreyans? Or has there been an upgrade? Karnivores, perhaps?” The Mistress stops and giggles to herself, invoking some humorous mood that Ohila does not share.

She continues on, unabated. “Admittedly, I was surprised by your call—”

“Were you, Mistress?” Ohila remarks more than asks as she steps out of her hiding place. The time has come for answers, now that she knows half of the truth.

The Mistress widens her eyes at Ohila, not in surprise but interest. Extending her right arm forward, the Mistress points an umbrella in the air, a whirring noise accompanying the motion. Sonic technology.

“My name not is the Mistress, it’s Missy,” the Time Lady states as she lowers her umbrella to her side. “And I suppose I should have known that your distress call was fake. The Sisterhood of Karn is never under threat from any species, unless some stupid person gets the bright idea of stealing your Elixir of Life and thinks they can match you.”  

Ohila acknowledges along with a nod, “You would be correct.”

The Time Lady stiffens her posture and rests both hands on her umbrella handle while flashing a truly delicately put-upon smile. “What is it you want then, anyway?”

“We already have discovered what we wanted. We now know that you have stolen the Doctor’s TARDIS,” Ohila answered.

The smile quickly sours. “Wait, wait, you think I stole this?”

Ohila simply arches an eyebrow.

“Alright, I’ll admit I’ve had a certain history involving theft of the Doctor’s property. But I can assure you that this was...passed onto me. To be more accurate, she’s chosen me.”

“Who has?”

“The TARDIS of course, why are Gallifreyans such numpties about their own tech?” Missy huffs, assumingly rhetorically. “She’s sentient. She called out to me for assistance before I even knew what was about to happen, but she was trying to tell me I was, and now am, her Plan B to freely traveling the universe as she once did with the Doctor.”

Ohila dismisses this all as lies and trickery characteristic of the Time Lady. She resumes her questioning, while discreetly signaling her sisters. “What have you done with the Doctor? Why have you been answering the cries of help from the universe in his stead? To impersonate him and gain the trust of whole worlds, only to eventually conquer them?”

“No!” Missy cries out somewhat desperately and defensively. “You don’t understand, that’s not what I’m doing...not anymore.”  

She appears to quickly recover from the lapse in demonstrating personal weakness, flipping right back to the irrational and inappropriate sense of humor upon which she seems to rely. “Although that would have been a good long game plan for when I was evil.”

“Was?” Ohila asks disbelievingly.

“Yes. I’ve turned over a new leaf, went cold turkey, made a new millenium resolution, whatever you want to call it I’m—better than I was before. I am trying to help the universe now ‘in his stead’ because it’s what’s right. As to your other question, the Doctor is dead.”

Ohila is, for a singular minute, unable to process this information. Of course, after what the Doctor did on Gallifrey with displacing the human girl out of her timestream, Ohila did not want to see him for quite some time; he almost jeopardized the safety of the universe to end his self-centered guilt. Now he has fated them all to eternal subjugation to the most unstable of all renegades through the sheer act of his own death.

“You are responsible for his death,” Ohila eventually says rather than asks.  

The intense eye contact they share is finally disconnected when Missy casts her glance downward, in a manner that Ohila would consider guilty if she did not know better. Without warning, her gaze is again set upon Ohila, but it is haunted, sorrowful, and vindictive simultaneously.

“I suppose in a way I am. Thank you for reassuring me on that particular detail, I’ve always wondered,” Missy admits so quietly Ohila can barely discern the words. The Time Lady then stares off into the distant setting sun of Karn. In her distracted state, the sisterhood has successfully managed to surround the Doctor’s TARDIS. They have her right where they want her.

“You have confessed to stealing the Doctor’s TARDIS and being the architect of his death. These are already punishable offences in Time Lord society, but they will certainly be worse considering the Doctor’s legacy as a war hero to the High Council and greater Gallifreyan public. Transport shall be arranged for your extradition to Gallifrey where you will face an impending trial and sentence for your crimes.”

If Ohila was expecting to illicit a response of fear, she was mistaken. Missy’s body practically crumbles in onto itself while it pulses with her cackles and readily apparent humor. It is an unsettling sight for a planet typically so devoid of laughter or joy.

“Oh you’re serious? Honey, if the Time Lords wanted to punish me for my crimes, they would have done so long before now. Or has the death of the Doctor touched such a nerve that they seek some sort of sanctimonious retribution?”

“They have relied on his aid for many centuries.”

“Well—tough!” The Time Lady suddenly exclaims with unforeseen rage. “They’ll just have to get used to the fact that I’m helping the universe. Personally, I think it’s an upgrade.”

Ohila nevertheless persists. “You are so insistent on this narrative, and yet there is no feasible explanation present for why you of all beings would abruptly change your moral compass if not for a selfish ulterior motive.”

Missy sighs, loud and long. It is not difficult to irritate her, it would seem. “The motives and morals have changed, but the goal has not. Even when I was planning on conquering the universe, I always wanted universal peace, ultimately. The Doctor’s...influence helped me correct my method.

I will admit that I haven’t been taking the same approach as he did. After all, we did have our differences. To start, if you’ve bothered to notice, there has been no haphazard rewriting of the timeline or bringing along human strays. I only help when asked for, I don’t need to save millions to stroke my ego, and I know how to fly and maintain the TARDIS better than he ever could.”

“You have a certain way of showing regret if you possess any,” she remarks accusingly.

“Oh Ohila,” Missy chimes in a higher pitch with an added sickly sweet tone oozing over the words. “I realize now why you’re in the High Council. Only a bunch of idiots sit up there delegating and twiddling their thumbs, passing judgment. You see, you’re quite mistaken. I have more regrets than you can begin to count.”

The Time Lady turns on her heel, her skirts fanning out and flowing with her steps, and stalks over to the line of sisters encircling the TARDIS exterior.

“Where are you going?”

“Where I’m needed, which has been made abundantly clear to me is not here.”

Ohila calls out firmly, “You will not make it off this planet.”

Missy merely smirks, a dark twinkle dancing in her eyes. Ohila has never seen a face so befitting of a deranged, ungrounded predator. With a snap of Missy’s fingers, the TARDIS doors open, knocking two of Ohila’s sisters to the ground with the force. While the fellow sisters rush to their aid, Missy calmly steps around the commotion and frames herself in the doorway of the TARDIS.

“Since I have thoroughly satisfied your request for my presence, I have something for you to do for me now,” Missy demands, gaze inspired and dangerous like that of a daring revolutionary. “Pass along a little message to the dear gang back home. Tell them: if they want me, they’ll have to clasp me in irons first.”

The doors shut, and in a moment the blue box dematerializes and fades from view. The universe will be subject to change and, for the time being, that is all that Ohila is able to tell.

[gemvictorfromtheponyverse]

The truths The Doctor never tell

Summary:

Bill is taken to a land of dreams, and meet a woman and her granddaughter. Bill comes back, and suddenly she is seeing The Doctor in a new light.

Notes:

A weird idea of Bill nearly dying and meeting River and Susan in a place in The Doctor’s mind where his companions come when they don’t travel alongside him anymore - no matter if they left him or died, it is where they end up.

The fanfic itself:

Bill’s lost. Completely, utterly lost in a big field with dry brown grass that almost looked burned in some places. Bill doesn’t know what she’s doing there or where The Doctor and Nardole went, but she’s pretty sure it’s not her fault.

Because Nardole had told her not to wander off. “The Doctor hates”, he’d said.

Because The Doctor told her not to wander off. “It’s as bad as not being on time.” He’d said.

And she hadn’t wandered off, she sweared, but now she was in a dry grass field all alone and somehow she must have wander off even though she didn’t.

Looking around again, Bill sigh. There is nothing more to see than her last two surveys already showed her, for beside the burn grass and a big tree sticking up some distance away, the entire space is completely empty and unfamiliar.

Not knowing what else to do, Bill walks her way to the only tree she can see. It looks like a grand oak, but it’s leaves are silver, gleaming like jewellery on the pale brown branches as they stretch towards the burning orange and red sky.

It looks like and oak, but it’s not, and Bill try to withhold the tears gathering in her eyes as she suddenly realises how badly she wanted something familiar to hold onto in this place. Just one tiny, familiar detail that she could latch onto to keep herself floating in the sea of fear and uncertain. But there’s nothing, and finally Bill decides that the tree is enough, giving it a quick hug before sitting down underneath it.

She is certain that of she just wait under that tree long enough, then The Doctor and Nardole would come to save her. They had to.

She’s been sitting there and waiting for salvation for she doesn’t know how long, almost giving up hope that she will ever be found, when she hears a voice in the distance.

“Come on! Hurry grandmother!”

As Bill looks away, looks out into the field, she can see a girl standing there in the distances. She’s tiny, a teenage girl of probably fourteen or fifteen but not very tall nor rounded. She’s got short cut brown hair and dark eyes and a leather hat, and Bill almost imagines she’s seen her, because she is moving in her direction, but then she turn around and start shouting. “Come on!” She cries, her voice high pitched and childish, and Bill wonders who she’s calling for when there’s no one but the two of them to be seen.

That is, until there is someone else. The girl is waiting impatiently for a while, jumping for one foot to the other as she waited for something or someone, but then there’s suddenly a woman appearing at the horizon, hastily making her way to the little girl, who waves at her as she see her coming.

Gorgeous, is the first thing Bill thinks as she sees the new person approaching the girl. She is a woman, probably middle aged, with a generous, curvy body and a head full of impossible golden curls that spill down her shoulder like a glowing waterfall made of sunshine. She smiles, her smile as lovely as the rest of her, as she catch up with the young girl. “I’m not your grandmother, Susan.” She chides the girl gently, giving her a hug the next second to show she mean no harm.

“But you’re married to my grandpa.” The girl, Susan, still reply, stubbornly, as the two of them start walking again, moving in Bill’s direction. The other woman doesn’t reply, but nod thoughtfully, half agreeing with Susan.

Up till now, there’s been an odd sort of calm over the entire situation, Bill peacefully observing the only other two people that seemed to exist on that planet, but now it’s gone. Bill doesn’t feel calm anymore.

The spotting of two other people in this dead and desolate place has at long last awoken a desperate feeling inside her, and as the woman continue to approach, she stands up and scream. “Hello! Over here! Please help!” She scream and scream and doesn’t care that she’s becoming hoarse, desperately hoping they will see her and help her because she doesn’t know where she is and she swear she never meant to leave The Doctor and Nardole and wander off.

The two women seems suddenly terrified as they finally notice her, big eyes and gaping mouths staring at her as they come to a stop, not more than a hundred meters away and almost close enough for Bill touch. She want to touch them, want to assure herself that they are actually real and she is not going crazy, but she doesn’t dare to. The thought of them not being real after all is all too frightening, and she prefer not to know.

Still standing opposite her, the older woman has tightened her grip on the younger one, who is searching out the comfort on her elder as she glare at Bill.

“It’s a new one, grandmother! A new one!” She points at Bill, almost whining, angry like a little child someone had wronged.

The older woman nods at her granddaughter, her head bending backwards as she turned to look at the sky. “It’s going to rain, then. It hasn’t rained since I came here.” She looks down from the empty sky, and she smile politely, offering a hand. “I’m professor River Song. Who, darling, are you?”

“I’m Bill. Bill Potts.” Bill says carefully, taking her hand a shacking it, before doing the same with the teenager. “Have you seen The Doctor? Or Nardole? They’re this two guys I was travelling with…It’s weird because they were just here and then I was…” She trails off, looking around her as if she’ll find them somewhere around her and knowing very well that she won’t.

The girl shook her head, laughing. “They’re not here, I think.” She says, her face then suddenly turning serious. “I hope they never come. I’m Susan by the way. Susan Foreman. River is my gran.” The seriousness melts into a smile again that makes Bill smile, too, because it was very cute.

Somehow, it doesn’t feel weird, that these two knows The Doctor. Somehow, since she started travelling with him, Bill’s got this idea in her head that everyone should know The Doctor. He’s a time traveling alien in a blue box, after all, so how could anyone miss him? That these two ladies knew him was just perfectly expected .

“So, um, where am I? And where is The Doctor?” She asks finally, a bit sheepish because the fact she doesn’t know is why she called for them in the first place.

“You’re on Gallifrey.” The girl says, and there’s sadness now, eyes tearing up as glance up at the sky again, perhaps waiting for the rain River spoke of earlier to fall from the perfectly clear sky. “The Gallifrey of The Doctor’s mind. He put us here, which means he is all around us and not here at all.”

“What? Who are ‘we’? What is Gallifrey?” Bill doesn’t like the way the girl speaks. It sounds dire and unsettling and give her chills, and to be quite frank, it doesn’t answer none of her questions either. Because saying The Doctor put her there, on a planet she doesn’t know, with people she doesn’t know, it just can’t be right can it?

“We” River says. “Are the ones, that The Doctor lost, or who said goodbye. A mental footprint of someone who was but is no longer, sorted into a part of his brain where it will never be forgotten.” She smile, but there is tears in her eyes, and her voice cracks slightly as she finishes. Bill thinks she’s going to say something more, but before she can, a third voice speaks up, crying out, the sound coming from all around them.

“BILL!” It’s The Doctor, he’s calling for her, his voice conveying more emotions than Bill’s ever seen in him, and she feels scared because where is the voice coming from? If she’s really inside The Doctor’s brain, then…then is it his thoughts she’s hearing? Or? And why is he screaming…why is he so scared?

“BILL YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP! COME ON! WAKE UP!”

She doesn’t understand, doesn’t know why The Doctor is yelling at her inside his own mind, but Susan and River seems to, as they both light up with happiness when they hear his screams.

“She’s not lost!” Susan screams, too, but with glee, pulling at her grandma’s arm to get her attention. “Oh, grandma, he’s still trying to get her back!”

River, now openly crying, look up at the sky, and then looks down at Bill. “The rain is the tears The Doctor never shed for us. The emotions he refuses to let free, even when they’re eating him up inside. It becomes rain, liquid sadness pouring down upon us to let us know how missed we are.” She smiled more, and this time her voice is perfectly steady. “But your not lost yet, nor have you said good bye. You can still come out of here, and go back there, to him!”

Before Bill can say another word, Susan runs over to her, hugging her tight around her midsection. “Fitz and Adric doesn’t like the rain.” She says, hugging Bill tighter. “Please don’t let it rain.”

She looks down at her, at the teenager wrapped around her waist in a tight hug, her face buried in Bill’s chest. She doesn’t know her, doesn’t know who she is, but something in her words convince her to agree. “Alright, But what do I do? How do I…get back to The Doctor? Get out of here?” She wraps her arms around Susan, who is still hugging her, recuperating the hug, and looks up at River.

River nods at her, something in the mild look in her eyes telling Bill that she is thankful for her decision, and that she’s made the right one. “You got to focus on him, on being there with him. Think, what is the best thing he did for you? How did you meet? Tell me. Anything to hold onto, that connects you with him.“ “Alright. I…I met him, when I snuck into one of his lectures. He works at the university, where I work in the canteen, you see, and…he’s been working there a long time, some say seventy years. I…” She frowns, try to concentrate, but find it hard.

“Close your eyes.” Susan whisper, her own eyes closed as she kept herself wrapped tightly around Bill’s midsection. It felt safe and warm to have her there, like one of those really big stuffed toys you had as child, that was almost as big as you when you first got it.

Obediently, Bill close her eyes, and somehow it’s immediately easier to focus. “Once” She says, trying to find the most precious memory of The Doctor she had. “Once, I told him, that I was supposed to look like my mom, but that it was hard, when it was hardly any photos of her to compare with. She hated having her picture taken. Later, my step-mom found some new photos of her in a cupboard. I looked at them and…I had never seen them before. But in one of them, you could see The Doctor hiding with a camera in a closet. He had gone back in time to take photos of my mom so I’d have some to look at. He did it, just for me, even though he hardly knew me.”

She can see it, the look on his face as she told him she didn’t know what she was supposed to look at. That wolfish grin he’d given her the next day, his eyes glimmering as though he’d done something wicked- she’d though he poisoned some of the other teachers coffee, but wasn’t sure. Obviously, that was not what happened.

Still, she could see the pride and happiness filling him just because he was able to help her with this one small, unimportant yet somehow so important thing, and it took her back, back to him and back to being with him

“She’s going now, Susan, come over here.” River speaks, her voice urgent, and Bill can feel the warm weight resting around her midsection disappearing, but doesn’t think of it, as she is hit with sudden pain.

For a few long, agonizing seconds, it feels like her entire body is on fire, pain taking up every square inch of her being as she felt as though she was being boiled and burned from the inside out, the torture stretching on and on until suddenly…it’s gone.

She wakes with a gasp, sitting up and seeing that she’s in The Doctor’s office. He and Nardole is sitting on each side of her, running those weird metal rods he’s collected in a bucket at his desk over her body, scanning her or something as the instruments beeped and wheezed.

“Bill. Bill, look at me.” The Doctor is sitting on her left side, grabbing her face with his hands and forcing her to look at him. “It’s okay. You’re safe. Just had a bit of a run in with a rogue cyberman on campus.” He explains it slowly, neutrally, making it sound almost boring. Maybe, for him, it was.

“Had a bit of a close call, I suppose.” Nardol supplied, and Bill can feel hot tears trailing down her cheeks as she started to remember, the memories of the girl and the woman, Susan and River, in the dream landscape slowly reappearing in her mind.

Suddenly, overtaking by a compelling urge to just move , she stands up, quickly crossing the room and more or less running her way to The Doctor’s desk, rounding it so she is standing on his side of it. She’s never dared go to that side, his side, of the desk before.

Nardole and The Doctor is following her, but they’re both a bit shocked and slow to react. Neither of them have a chance to even ask what is wrong, before she spots the two photographs standing on the Doctor’s desk.

One, put in a thin metal frame that gave it a stylish modern look, is of a middle aged woman with a teasing smile who’s entire face is surrounded by a surreal amount of thick golden curls. She is familiar and Bill almost thinks she knows who she is as she looks to the right.

The other photo stands in strong contrast to the first. While the first had a fresh, modern design, this one is wrapped in a heavy leather and wood frame of the kind you’d find at your grandmother’s house. In the photo, though, there’s a picture of a teenage girl with short dark hair and a leather cap and dark eyes to match.

Bill screams. Maybe not physically, maybe not audibly, but in her mind she screams as her hands come up to cover her mouth and even more tears flow down her cheeks. Looking back at her from the photos, are the women she had just met. River and Susan, grandmother and granddaughter.

“We are the ones, that The Doctor lost, or who said goodbye. A mental footprint who is no longer, sorted into a part of his brain where it will never be forgotten.”

She can hear River’s voice in her mind, calm and clear and collected, and she finally starts to calm down too. Her mental scream slowly subsidies, and so does the tears, and when she turns around, she sees that The Doctor is just standing there, waiting.

“Where did Nardole go?” Her voice is hoarse and there are still tears in her eyes, but she can’t help but ask, for he is not there anymore.

“I sent him out for tea. It is said to help calm people down. You certainly looked like you needed to calm down.” He just stand there, eyebrows furrowed and eyes focused on her.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I just…I was in your head and…” She tries to explain, but her voice dies and and the tears come back and she want to hug him, want to hug him as hard as Susan hugged her when she was inside The Doctor’s head but doesn’t dare to.

“I know. I felt it. It’s how I knew, that you were dying, and we needed to get you back.” She hear The Doctor speaking, and she can feel the arms closing around her, but she almost doesn’t want to believe it. As far as she knew, The Doctor didn’t do hugs. Yet, her mind argued, it was undeniable that he was hugging her right now.

One more moment pass, and then, finally, she gives into her urge, hugging The Doctor back tighter than she’s ever hugged anyone in her entire life, holding onto him as though she was trying to make up for the fact that River and Susan couldn’t. “I’m not going. I’m not saying goodbye or leaving. Not yet, not until you showed me everything.” She says it, her voice muffled by his shoulder as she pulls closer, and she means it with all her heart.

“I won’t let you.” He answers, his voice thick and Scottish and she can tell that he means it too. “Not yet. It’s too soon.”

As he says it, something comes back to him,a memory waking up in the back of her head.

“Fitz and Adric doesn’t like when it rains.

Please don’t let it rain.” She remembers Susan, so small and fragile yet so old and wise, talking to her as she hugged her close. Bill remembers how she begged her to return to The Doctor, and suddenly feels extra proud that she did.

“I won’t let it rain on them. Adric and Fitz doesn’t like the rain.” Bill doesn’t know who Adric and Fitz are, but she assume they are more people that he’s lost, and she feels a fierce need to protect them, even though it’s evidently too late. But she guess,what she really wish to protect, is the man she is hugging. The man who got an entire miniaturized world inside his head, built to protect those he loved and lost from ever being forgotten.

As she speaks, she can feel The Doctor tensing in her arms, but then he relaxes again and she smiles against his shoulders as he speak once more. “I’ll protect you.” He says, fierce and determined and filled of Scottishness, his tongue waiting for the next person give a reprimand. “I won’t let it rain on them, either.” She can feel something wet dripping down on the back of her shirt, but stays quiet and just hold the embrace, pretending not to notice.

Better for it to rain on the outside than the inside, she thought. Better to have it rain down her back as she hugged him than hiding in his mind and knowing the falling rain was his pain as he stood before her dead body.

And so, for everyone that once had but no longer could, for everyone that now only lived stored in a memory bank inside The Doctor’s head, hidden away due to his own fear of forgetting them, she decided to hold on for as long as she could.

It was the least she could do for The Doctor, and all she could do for River and Susan.

[ephemeraldrms]

WANTED PLOTS

These are Plots that I am interested in ding with my FCs. Please message me if you are interested in any of them!

Plot One: Like Siblings

Muses: Boa & any other SM Male Muse

Genres: Romance, drama, angst, fluff, fantasy, smut(maybe)

As far back as she could remember they were like brother and sister. His father, the king, had taken her in and raised her after her parents had died in service to him. In everything but name she was considered a princess even though she was not directly related. They had always been close and now that they were getting older, other feelings were beginning to surface. It was time for them both to be married off in order to create political ties so they were enjoying what was to be their last times together. For him, a marriage would be easy because he had it all and a title but for her, she was considered less desirable. Boa was of noble birth but she was hardly a proper lady of the court. She had been a tomboy, encouraged by her doting adopted father, and much mocked by her contemporaries. Not considered beautiful because of her attitude and humble features, she was dreading the next stage of her life with every fiber of her being.

Plot Two: Nothing Makes a Better Romance than Zombies

Muses: Narsha & any Any Muse

Genres: Horror, Action, Angst, Smut, Romance, and whatever else we wanna put in.

So it’s the zombie apocalypse and shit is cray cray. Narsha is a loner survival type who used to be a surgeon before the world went to shit. She’s competent, capable, self-relient, sexy as hell, and has an emotional barrier the Great Wall of China would be jealous of. Already a bit of a sarcastic loose cannon before the fall of society, her lack of human interaction has not done her any favors. She sees what she wants and takes it, including men. After the two of you meet while pulling a salvage run and escape together, she rocks your world and you just can’t get her out of your head. While she has a bit of a soft spot for you, she isn’t exactly about that kind of attachment. The relationship is difficult, volatile, and sometimes violent. Can the two of you make things work and make a macabre rom-com thing work or will you get each other killed?

Plot 3: Angels and Demons

Muses: A female of my choice & Any Male Muse

Genres: Horror, Fantasy, Angst, Smut, etc

She has fallen from heaven, stuck on the earthen prison by jealous angelic rivals. She is doing the best she can to cope, missing her wings that were so horribly taken from her back when she comes across you. You’re a demon or a vampire and you see her as easy prey but there is just something about her you can’t shake. Her attitude and spirit are infectious despite her situation so in some ways you admire her even though she is your antithesis. As things progress you can’t tell if you are rubbing off on her or if she is rubbing off on you, maybe a combination of both. But will you try to help her as best as you can and see that she has a chance at reclaiming her wings or will you cling to her and use her for your own needs?

Plot Four: An Entire Galaxy and I keep running into you

Muses: Bom and a YG Male Muse ( but I am flexible )

Genre: Action, Adventure, Mystery, Sci-Fi, Smut, Comedy, Angst

Born on a basically desolate planet and raised to be a priestess until the disappearance of her mother and then her father, Bom ends up joining in on a smuggling ring and other various crime syndicates to help solve the puzzle. Never staying in one place or with anyone long, Bom has a hard time making lasting ties with just about anyone because she is so focused on using what she can to find her parents. Unfortunately, instead of finding them she keeps running into you and this morally ambiguous pilot doesn’t know what to do with you. Are you part of the mystery, a distraction, an assassin, or something else entirely?

Plot Five: We Have All Of Time and Space

Muses: A female of my choice and any male muse

Genre: Action, Adventure, Sci-Fi, Comedy, Dr. Who

You are the Doctor! A member of an ancient alien race from Gallifrey who stole a spaceship that can travel through time and space called a T.A.R.D.I.S. and you are looking for a companion to explore the universe with. Fortunately, you stumble across me and we hit it off so you decide to take me with you. Together we move back and forward in history solving mysteries, defeating bad guys, and having a great time. We challenge each other, argue sometimes, and sometimes we don’t really get along but that’s how it works. Are we just friends or something more and can we survive a Dalek invasion?

Plot 6: The Ice Queen

Muses: Gain & any Male Muse

Genre: Fantasy, Angst, Drama, Smut

This royal has a giant chip on her shoulder. Gain is a master enchantress in service to the late king right up until he dies. Most fear her and her unnatural powers as magic is not common and her chilly demeanor does little to help her case. Since birth she has been used to those using her abilities to get what they wanted, hurting her and those closest to her to manipulate her to get it so she built up a wall around herself. Her reputation is that of a cold and cruel killer which she does little to stop because it keeps everyone exactly where she wants them, at a distance. You are the heir in line for the throne and you find yourself inheriting her but what will you do with her? Will you make her your weapon, slave, mistress, queen or something else altogether?

Plot 7: SOULEATER

Muses: Dara and a male, preferably YG Based

Genre: Fantasy, Anime, Action

So Dara is a meister, a spunky one with a lot of attitude and strength despite her size but she doesn’t have a weapon. At least not yet. Then all of a sudden there you are at Death Weapon Meister Academy, a weapon looking for a meister to help turn you into one of the Death Scythes. Together the two of you bond, fight baddies, sometimes each other and have amazing adventures as you try to reach that ultimate goal.

Plot 8: Lost in Translation

Muses: Miranda Zhao and any male who isn’t Chinese)

Genres: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Slice of Life, Romance, Comedy

Miranda is a beautiful model looking for international acclaim as she heads out of mainland China looking for work. Lucky for her she stumbles across you to help her through the culture clashes, gaffes, and language barriers. Her warm spirit and easy smile make her easy to want to get to know but she has a real problem saying what she means and often gets her words confused. Are you able to help the radiant woman establish herself in a new place or are things going to maybe fall apart in the most wonderful way?

Plot 9: Were-Hunter Alpha, the Last of Her Kind

Muses: Boa and a male Muse

Genres: Supernatural, Action, Adventure, Horror and smut Based on the Dark Hunter/Were Hunter supernatural romance series. Kind of.

After Apollo cursed his children and their descendants for the murder of his wife, an alchemist who had married one of them crafted away for his children to avoid the premature death. He merged human with beast and created two new species were created. The creatures with the human hearts are born as humans and only can turn into their unlocked animal form when they reach puberty are called Arcadians. On the opposite side, the creatures with animal hearts that are born as animals and unlock their human sides at puberty are called Katagaria. Both types of were-hunters have their own species, clans, and customs as well as being at war with each other.

The war between the were-hunters started at their birth and carries to this day. Several of the clans have been decimated and thought to be completely extinct, as is the case with Boa’s. She is the last of her kind; an Arcadian dragon alpha whose scales are deepest ebony which earned her the title of ‘The Dark One’. The dragonswan is the favorite of the god who oversees all of the weres and because of that she is given the privilege and protection of running the Sanctuary (A place where all harm is magically forbidden and all species are welcome) in hopes that maybe she can find a mate to bring her clan back from the brink.

In this plot you can be just about anything you want: another were-hunter (Katagaria or Arcadian either way will be a good story), a dark hunter (if you are familiar with the series it makes a great option), a demi-god, a dream-hunter(again, if you know the series it is also a good option) or just a regular human. This storyline has a ton of options and I am willing to put in a lot of work whether you are familiar with the series or not to do something totally awesome so if you like the idea but are afraid because you are new to it, don’t worry.

Plot Ten: Bitter Enemies

Muses: Boa and Rain ( willing to change )

Genre: Slice of Life, Drama, Angst, Smut

You are both idols but at somewhat different points in your careers. You are at your zenith, the very height and she is just starting out but there is no denying her budding starpower. The agencies you both work for can basically print their own money if they get you both together on a project, there is just one problem; you two don’t particularly get along. You dismiss her as another fad and she sees you as a soon to be has been causing ruffled feathers. Can the two of you hold down your egos enough to make some money and what more will happen once you both get past the drama?

Plot 11: Into The Wilde

Muses: Any

Genres: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Action, Smut, Drama

The world is full of weres: Creatures that are able to shift their forms from their natural animal state into that of a human. Everyone has heard of them, monsters disguised as people who lure humans away to be slaves or worse: dinner. Yet, no one has seen them or can recall any proof of their existence beyond vague fairytales and myths. Common knowledge suggest there is some truth to these stories but would you believe it? Hidden far away from prying human eyes, the clans of the weres live in secret. Each species is an advanced and magical society that uses their technology, powers, or a mixture of both to keep the humans unaware of them. Though they had long been at peace, war has begun breaking out among them as their views differ on how to deal with the quickly growing human race. In this plot either or both can be weres from any clan, both can even be human or a mixture of the two.

Plot 12: SSV HEIMDALLR

Muses: Any

Genres: Sci-FI, Fantasy, Action, Smut, Drama

In the distant future mankind has made it out into uncharted space, discovered other intelligent life, and proceeded to make war and peace with them accordingly. Humanity has embraced its celestial destiny and made itself a powerful force to be reckoned with in the universe. They’ve colonized more than just the habitable planets in the Sol system and have moved into other systems in faraway galaxies. Starfaring vessels of every size, shape and function roam space at will almost like small floating cities on their own. Each ship has a crew and a purpose. For the SSV HEIMDALLR, a state of the art and technologically advanced warship of joint human and alien efforts, their purpose is peace. Designed for covert missions in deep and often hostile territory, this ship patrols the borders of the farthest reaches of the empire to defend it against enemy alien governments, raiders, slavers, and pirates. As members of the crew, you are tasked with keeping the vessel in working order. This plot is highly customizable for character creation and growth.

Plot 13: The Accord

Muses: Any

Genres: Supernatural, action, angst, smut, drama

The Accord: A strict set of rules for children of the night that was put into place to hide the existence of vampires in the world. The elders of the five clans enacted The Accord to protect not only their secrets but the species as a whole from both themselves and humans.

During the middle ages with travel and communication becoming easier it was clear that they wouldn’t be able to rely on information of their activities being lost or regarded simply as local legend. With the rising numbers of both human and vampires things began to spiral out of control and get chaotic, resulting not only in the deaths of the initiated but the innocent as well. The strongest and oldest gathered together to discuss the problem and came up with a set of guidelines for them to follow as well as dividing up all of their members into 5 clans to guide, protect, and enforce the rules should they need to.

The world is changing quickly though and there are deep rumors of unrest among those in the clans and those vying for power. A schism has begun to form between those who wish to cling to the old ways and those who are looking for reform. The reformers are a largely militaristic group who believe in vampiric supremacy and push for the total enslavement of humanity while the traditionalists believe in temperance and working from the shadows to remain safe.

Amid this tumultuous time, Narsha is a vampire living in the modern day United States of America and governed by The Accord. Her life and death are a secret she keeps closely guarded that still affects her to this day. She’s a loner who prefers to keep to herself and doesn’t particularly want to get involved in any sort of power struggle or entanglement.Things for this woman seem to be going pretty well for her until one fateful day turns her world askew; she met you. Are you a vampire with an allegiance or a human that wakes her up from her habits and brings her back to life?

Please note that these are not Twilight vampires, they are not romanticized, they kill people and enjoy it. That being said; they aren’t demons or inherently evil either. They are more like hyper smart predatory humans. Eating people is natural for them, normal, and they look at humans like steak or cattle.

Plot 14: Extra Curricular Activities

Muses: Any

Genres: Taboo, Romance, Smut, Angst, Drama,

Possible Pregnancy Standard teacher and student plot where all the details can be varied and customized to fit muses and mood. This can go anywhere from actual fluff love and courtship to full on rape and abuse of power. Either muse can be the teacher or student, from any walk of life or any kind of school. The circumstances of this plot can be determined in more detail once the characters are fleshed out and I’m open to a wide variety of options.

It should be noted that the student will be of legal or very near legal age for most countries (18) so they are a young adult. Kiddy porn is a no-go and I won’t even entertain the idea.