Fandoms: Doctor Who
14 Dec 2021
Deep in an almost-forgotten lab room, a group of cultists gathered in an attempt to bind Nyarlathotep to their will. Soon, they learn why that was a very, very bad idea.
“Tell me,” Yaz said to her, her jacket off to be used as a pillow, “tell me everything.”
The Doctor knows, deep down in her hearts, that it’s just better when she’s not alone. What’s the use of seeing the myriad wonders of the universe—the frozen tsunamis of Women Wept, the mirrored mountains of Apalapucia, the noseless dogs of Barcelona—if you don’t have anyone to share it with? If you don’t have a second pair of eyes to see it through? If you don’t have a mate to joke about it with? If you don’t have a hand to hold?
But then there’s this: Nothing—not getting zapped by a Dalek, not metabolizing arsenic, not even regenerating—hurts more than saying goodbye. She’s done it tenderly, kindly, coldly, viciously, on purpose, by accident, and often never at all, but it always hurts.
Takes place sometime after the events of "Eve of the Daleks." Yaz is smart, the Doctor is sad, they're in love.
(Title taken from a poem by Thomas Lux.)
Having been invited to a Christmas party by the Paternoster Gang, the Doctor and her companions drop everything to travel to Victorian London for the holidays. It quickly becomes clear the invitation is not without ulterior motives...
(Originally meant to be a christmas fic, but honestly the christmas part is insignificant. So it's almost okay to publish in january)
Post Eve of the Daleks.
" This shouldn’t be here," Yaz murmured.
" What shouldn’t?" The Doctor asked.
"The American Diner parked in the middle of Hyde Park?"
The TARDIS never lands where the Doctor wants to go, but where she needs to be.
- Part 1 of Clara Oswald Chronicles
Bookmarked by Epoch
16 Jan 2022