So I left a smutty thing in someone’s ask. Then I edited it a bit.
I don’t know how to rate this, but I’m putting it under the cut.
T maybe? Not explicit, so.
Prompt: Speechless (And also Firsts)
He’s a lot quieter than she thought he’d be.
They’re both speechless for days.
When they look at each other on the beach after the TARDIS leaves, they don’t need to talk, just to hold onto each other.
For awhile, it’s awkward. Neither of the two of them know how to start a conversation now. Even the Doctor, who always has something to say, opens his mouth and closes it several times. Rose, surely, has a million questions rattling around in her head and doesn’t know which one to start with.
They travel in silence.
Jackie talks the entire zeppelin ride- until she realizes neither of them is responding to anything she asks accept to mutter a one-syllable reply when absolutely necessary.
They never let go of each other except when they have to. They walk hand in hand, they decide to share a hotel bed in wordless agreement, the Doctor wraps his arm tightly around Rose’s shoulder every time they sit down.
But they don’t speak.
Until one night, maybe the same night they make it home (home is a misnomer to them both, but they have each other, so it’ll do), Rose wakes to an empty bed. She finds the Doctor outside, staring up at the stars.
Sitting down next to him, she finds his hand even in the dark.
“Doctor?” She surprises him. He tearss his gaze away from the sky and looks at her, wide-eyed at the broken silence.
“I love you too.” Rose says, with a grin.
They sit in front of the fireplace in the room he’s deemed the library.
It’s more a haphazard collection of maps with precariously leaning stacks of books lining the walls. Proper shelves would never work on the TARDIS, Rose- books would fall right off!
He calls it the library because it’s where he tells her stories.
At first, he was trying to impress her, she knew, but eventually, the stories changed. They became small parts of himself he was willing to give her, one by one. He could talk all day and never say a thing, but not in this room. In this room, their library, their sanctuary of stories, his words carried the heaviness of fleeting vulnerability.
Rose felt that she had so little to offer him in return: only nineteen years for his nine hundred, but he assured her that it was more than enough.
One night, not long after his regeneration, Rose asks him about home. The TARDIS is my home,” he deflects.
“No,” Rose counters, “Gallifrey.”
He hesitates. He looks at her and considers. He remembers when she held the time vortex. He remembers her hesitance at his new body; then her uninhibited trust after so little time.
Rose’s arm has found its usual place along the back of the couch. Her fingers are combing mindlessly through his hair.
He takes it as reassurance.
He looks over at her.
He takes a deep breath.
He tells her of Gallifrey, of a home he’s too afraid to call home anymore. He begins with the suns, the grass, the mountains. But soon he’s telling her of the flames, the destruction, the loss of all he knew.
He feels tears coming.
She knows how this ends, anyway.
At his silence, Rose looks up at him. She shifts her position to see his face better. He’s staring into the fireplace, and Rose wonders if he can think of anything but the flames.
She pulls herself towards him and kisses his jaw.
He jumps, but he’s smiling now.
He takes her hand and whispers,
The Doctor plans to see Rose in 2005 but instead, finds himself on a different part of her timeline. He has a choice: Does he steal her away in the TARDIS or let her go?
(Breaks from canon at the end of End of Time Part II)
A familiar voice rang out behind him. It couldn’t be. It was impossible. The Doctor turned around so quickly he should’ve fallen again.
Running towards him was Rose.
Read under the cut or here.
He felt a warmth building in him, radiating out from where her hand had rested. She’s turned her head now, to face him, with the same expectant -if not slightly more hopeful- look on her face.
“And you, Doctor? What was the end of that sentence?”
This fic takes place between the episodes New Earth and Tooth and Claw
Some fluff because I needed it.
It had been three days since they visited New Earth’s hospital. Rose much preferred the art museums and shopping centers to the cat-nuns and diseases she couldn’t even pronounce, but all the same, she was ready to leave. The Doctor came bounding out of the back hallway with a blanket and two large sheets of paper in hand.
“One last adventure before we go, don’t you think?”
Rose shook her head and smiled. She was exhausted, but there was no use in arguing. “Okay. One more.”
the particles freckling the air and swimming into your lungs
split the sunrise into rays that trick us
and make us believe there’s hope
but there isn’t hope
there’s just dust in the air
the mothers and fathers of our flesh
the ashes of burning ships
shadows made solid
have found a way to fly
to baffle gravity,
to turn it on its head
and be thrust upwards
instead of back to the earth
I really mean this.
Don’t try to find another meaning
When there is none to be found.
The dangling, eight-legged
Ticklers that taunt in the dark aren’t
In their places
When the sun comes up.
Empty webs hanging
From once-threatening corners now have no
Purpose but to catch
In your hair, on your skin, resurrecting the
Fear of the night.
On second thought,
The night brings more terrors than those that
Feast on flies.
The dark gives strength to those angry arachnids, creeping
Down your spine. Into your brain.
Why does only the dawn kill what keeps
Us awake: Those spinners
Building a web of doubt
And fear, trapping and
Devouring any chance of sleep.
Where do the spiders go in the daytime?