Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dream visits you in the Waking World, and when you tell him the place you would like to go most, he cannot deny you.
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings: None (?) slight suggestiveness and spelling errors
"If you could visit anywhere in the world where would it be?"
Dream hummed as he slowed his pace to walk alongside you, black cape billowing behind him. It was one of the rare days where he had the time to visit you in the Waking World, and you decided to spend the whole day out together. After breakfast at a café, where Morpheus had used sand to create money just so you didn't have to pay (you chided that it was illegal, but he just gave you a silent look and walked out of the café while you secretly left a tip on the table and followed him). "I have been everywhere. All the places you can imagine and even the ones you cannot."
"You always speak like a poet," you shook your head in exasperation. The corners of his eyes crinkled just a bit. Regular people wouldn't notice, but you knew that it was his version of a smile.
"Where would you like to go?" Morpheus countered curiously.
You thought for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe someplace I can't imagine." Dream looked down at you with a mysterious twinkle in his eyes. In the Waking World, Morpheus' eyes were a murky shade of blue, but you always preferred his Dreaming eyes more. They had the whole galaxy in them, and were endless... like him.
Your phone pinged in your pocket, and you sighed as you received a message from your boss. "Richard wants me to work another shift tonight." The anthropomorphic personification beside you frowned as he glanced over your shoulder at the device.
"Surely he cannot ask that of you," Morpheus' voice was stoic, but his entire body language had changed. His shoulders slumped slightly, reminding you of an upset cat.
"I still have the whole afternoon with you!" You tried to cheer him up. "It's only a two hour shift, it's short!" The Endless seemed to disagree.
"Two hours you could be spending with me," He argued, causing you to laugh and looped one arm around his to bring him closer.
"You'll survive."
"Barely."
You hummed and turned your face up to him, finding his completely serious. "Come on. You've lived for longer than I can comprehend. Two hours are nothing for you."
"Every second I spend away from you causes an ache to settle deeper within my very bones," Morpheus decreed, his dark eyes searching yours. "Every breath I draw when you aren't near causes the Dreaming to dim and my heart to fall heavy." Your heart stuttered as the Endless continued. You had been told that Dream loved too much, too fast. You had been told that he had suffered and made his lovers suffer with him. You had been told that he gave too much of himself too quickly, and it always hurt him in the end.
You were determined to be the end of it, but he continued to plea. "My love, two hours would mean two hours of suffering for me. Would you bestow this fate upon me?"
His face was a lot closer than you remembered it being. So close that you could see the stars in his eyes, the way that they were in the Dreaming. After a few long seconds, you relented and sighed.
"I'll... tell Richard that I won't be able to work the extra shift." Dream's mouth twitched up in his version of a smile, and the air grew lighter around you as he drew away from you, only for you to cup his cheek and press a light kiss to his nose. "You're lucky I care for you so much, love."
"I am," Morpheus agreed. "More than you know."
You cocked your own small smile as you pulled him along until you reached your apartment. Pushing the lock into the key and giving the door a firm push, you entered the space and allowed Morpheus in behind you. As soon as the door was shut behind you, his hands found your waist from behind you and you felt his head burry into the hollow between your neck and collarbone, hair tickling the side of your face.
"Morpheus," you argued, but any disagreements fell upon deaf ears as you felt a series of soft kiss being pressed into your skin. "It's three in the afternoon."
"I am aware, my love." Dream whispered, not moving.
"And I'm hungry."
"As am I."
You giggled as you pulled away from him, causing him to nearly pout as you took off your shoes and walked towards the kitchen.
"Not that kind of hungry," you chirped, opening the fridge to find lefovers from last night.
"Then let us return to the Dreaming," Morpheus offered, although it was more of a statement. "I am sure Taramis would be grateful to have someone to cook for." Glancing back at the sad looking food in your fridge, you closed the fridge doors and walked slowly back towards him.
Eyes never leaving yours, Dream waved a hand, causing a thick curtain of sand to swirl hypnotically around the two of you until you felt the familiar thrum of the dreaming within you. Opening your eyes, you just saw the sand dissipating and revealing...
"Morpheus..." you trailed off.
In front of you, the afternoon had turned into a brilliant night, with a sky peppered with colourful stars. You were standing on a hill overlooking a multicolour garden of glowing trees and flowers, the incandescent magic swirling in the air and shimmering. Bioluminescent fruits hung enchantingly from the branches that glowed welcomely, illuminating the garden in a way that you truly couldn't imagine.
"Do you... like it?" Morpheus was beside you. While you were captivated by the sight before you, his gaze never left your face, studying your every expression.
"I... Morpheus, it's beautiful!"
"It is," he agreed, his eyes still on you.
You turned to him, eyes blown wide in wonder. "What brought this on? How come you've never taken me here before?" You linked arms with him like you had earlier and began to walk in a slow, tantalising pace through the garden, watching as the terracotta tiles beneath you dimly reflected the shifting colours of the garden around you.
"You said earlier that you wanted to go someplace you could not imagine," he stated simply. "I created this for you. A new piece of the Dreaming." You stopped in your steps in surprise.
"You created all of this?" You asked. "For me?"
"I would create new realms and destroy the old for you," Morpheus stated solemnly. "I would travel to Hell and to the end of time for you. Anything you ask for, you shall receive, my love."
You felt tears gathering at the corner of your eyes, but Dream softly brushed them away before they could fall. "This is the kindest thing anyone has done for me."
If anything, you could say that the Endless was confronted by the statement. "Then I shall spend the rest of my life making that up for you. You deserve to have your own kindness repaid." You laughed, and brushed away the remaining tears with the backs of your hands. "This garden can be ours."
You pondered the idea, and smiled. "Let's not be selfish. The children who are dreaming would absolutely love this place." Morpheus sent you a look of adoration as you continued to take in the garden.
"Yes," he agreed eventually, though he seemed a bit upset that you wouldn't have the garden to yourselves. "The children." You send him a cheeky glance before placing your arms on his broad shoulders and pressing your lips against his warm ones in a short kiss, which he quickly deepened by placing a large hand on your jaw.
The two of you stayed like this, for a while, so close that you could hear each others heartbeats and breathing. When you finally drew away, you placed your head on his chest, close to the heart that he constantly reminded you that you owned.
Surrounded by the enchanted lights, your eyes lifted up to find his. Now in the Dreaming, they were stars again.
"I love you," you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.
Morpheus said the words back as if they were sacred, each syllable striking a chord within you as he drew your face back up to his, letting the two of you be lost in the afterglow.
end
xx dreamtheatre
i am so utterly and irrevocably in love with morpheus
requests are open!!
Hii! Could you write angst to fluff for the 12th Doctor where the reader sees him not liking hugs and tauching from others so they assume it must be the same for them but turns out they are an exeption?
Have a nice day!
yess love this sm!
You're Just Too Good To Be True
Pairing: Twelfth Doctor x Companion!Fem!Reader
Summary: The Doctor never seemed to like your hugs, so you stopped trying to even go near him. However, after he takes you and Clara on an adventure to a planet where civil war breaks out and you are ultimately separated, you see a new side of the Doctor that you had never seen before.
Word Count: 1.5K
Warnings: slight angst, mild descriptions of injury, not proofread
You’ve always noticed the way the Doctor avoids contact with anyone. Even when he was with Clara, who had been with him for much longer than you had, he seemed repulsed by physical contact whatsoever.
It was a particularly bad thing for you because you, for one, loved physical touch. It was your love language, after all. You had been bold with him just once. After a particularly terrifying adventure, you had hugged Clara in shock and relief. Clara, being the amazing, wonderful Clara, hugged you back happily. Then you moved on to hug the Doctor.
When your arms wrapped around him suddenly, you could feel the muscles underneath you tense up as if someone had slapped him. There was no movement at all, only the slight rise and fall of his chest. And that was because he was breathing.
You thought you felt his hand twitch upwards slightly, just brushing the small of your back, you immediately let go, shame and embarrassment washing over you. Before the Doctor or Clara could say anything, you pushed open the TARDIS door and ran to your room, hoping to hide in there for as long as possible.
After that incident, you hadn't even come close to touching the Doctor. Clara was always there to loop arms with or hug, when necessary, but at the risk of sounding selfish, one person was not enough. Even if that one person was Clara.
So, slowly, you became more and more withdrawn from the duo until you found yourself confined in your room on most days, only coming out when the Doctor was taking you out on adventures. It was making things worse for you. It was as if your body physically ached... it was petty. You wished you could get over it, but you just couldn't seem to.
Eventually, the Doctor got concerned about you. He asked Clara, but she just death stared him and told him that "he knew what he did wrong". But he didn't! He really didn't! Was this your way of telling him you wanted to go home?
Something about that thought made the Doctor's two hearts begin to beat just a little bit quicker and a cold sweat break across his body. You couldn't want to leave, could you?
He decided eventually that he had to take you on an adventure so amazing, so awe-inspiring, and so unforgettable that you'd be back to your usual self again. So, he took you and Clara to the most stunning and technologically advanced planet he could remember. It was filled with music, which the Doctor knew was something you enjoyed. Slowly, he let himself smile when he saw you waltzing around with Clara, exploring the musical world.
Unknown, or perhaps forgotten to him, The Doctor's eyes widened as the first bomb shook the floor. He could hear thousands of voices cry out at once in fear and worry - yours being one of them.
The Doctor's mind suddenly cleared and became a melting puddle at the same time. He remembered the civil war that was breaking out on the planet at the exact time frame when he had dropped you all off, and he felt his thoughts becoming more and more frantic because through the smoke, he couldn't see you.
In the chaos, you were separated.
Clara screamed your name as the smoke swallowed you up, but the Doctor grabbed her arm, pulling her behind cover as laser fire erupted around them. His mind was racing. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this. He should've never brought you here.
“We’ll find her!” he exclaimed, more to himself than Clara, as he scanned the area with his sonic screwdriver. “We’ll find her!”
But the minutes turned into hours, and the hours into an agonizing day. The Doctor didn’t stop searching, feeling like he had run a marathon across every inch of the planet to no avail. Even as Clara urged him to rest, his mind reeled with possibilities, each one worse than the last.
Had you been captured by one of the sides and kept a political prisoner? Are they torturing you for information you don't even have?Maybe you weren't even being kept a prisoner anywhere. Maybe you had-
The thought sent a severe chill through him as he squeezed his eyes shut. No. That wasn't an option. If you were gone, he was willing to break the laws of the universe to travel back in time and intervene. He didn't know why, but he would.
The more days that passed in rapid succession, the more the Doctor felt himself beginning to lose his head. His mind was fractured. His heart was beating too fast and not beating at all at the same time, and his head was constantly in his hands as he paced around the area.
Finally, the Doctor took Clara's advice and visited a hostel on the side of a street far away from the main cities. He booked two rooms, one for each of them, and nearly collapsed as he tried to stick the key into the keyhole. The key just wouldn't go in.
Eventually, the Doctor gave up and took out his screwdriver, sighing in relief as the door swung open to reveal-
“Doctor?” you whispered, sitting up from your bed. Your clothes torn, and you sported a deep-ish gash on your forehead. Relief and exhaustion warred in your expression as you caught sight of him, and before you could think, you ran toward him.
However, he who met you halfway, his long coat billowing behind him as he closed the distance. Without hesitation, you threw yourself into his arms, too overwhelmed to care about his usual aversion to touch.
For a moment, he stood frozen, his arms awkwardly hovering around you. But then, slowly, they came down, wrapping around you tightly. You felt his fingers curl into the fabric of your jacket as if anchoring himself to you, and a shudder ran through him.
“You’re alright,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “You’re alright.”
“I'm fine!" You exclaimed. “I thought—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, his tone sharp but trembling. “Don’t say it. You’re here. That’s all that matters.” The Doctor finally pulled back just enough to inspect you. His hands cupped your face, his eyes scanning your features with an intensity that made your heart ache.
“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice gruff but gentle, and his eyes scanning the gash on your forehead.
“It’s nothing,” you replied, tears pricking at your eyes. “I just—Doctor, I was so scared.”
His expression softened, and for once, he didn’t pull away. “So was I,” he admitted quietly, and the vulnerability in his voice so foreign that it nearly caused the dam preventing the tears from streaming down your face to crumble.
You hesitated, searching his face. “I thought you didn’t like this,” you said, gesturing faintly to the way his hands still cradled your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
He frowned, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Like what?”
“The... the touching. Hugs. Any of it. I thought I was making you uncomfortable.”
His frown deepened as he shook his head. “You think that’s why you’ve been pulling away? Because you thought I didn’t—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “No. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“Do I?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Because it sure seemed like—”
"I thought you were uncomfortable." The Doctor admitted, eyes darting away from yours.
"Doctor..." You muttered. "But you don't hug anyone-"
“You’re different,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “Do you hear me? You’re different. It’s not the same with you.”
You stared at him, his words sinking in slowly. “Different… how?”
The Doctor looked away briefly, as if the words were too much to say while meeting your eyes. “Because you matter,” he said finally, his voice low but resolute. “More than you know.”
"I-"
“I’m saying,” he interrupted again, his sarcasm suddenly returning and his voice suddenly gruff as if to mask his own vulnerability, “that if you wanted to—oh, I don’t know—hug me again, I wouldn’t… entirely hate it.”
A small laugh escaped you, light and disbelieving. “You wouldn’t… entirely hate it?”
He looked up at you, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. “Don’t make me say it twice.” The Time-Lord whispered.
That was all the permission you needed. You stepped forward, hesitating only for a moment before wrapping your arms around him. For a split second, he tensed—an instinct, perhaps—but then his arms came around you, his embrace awkward but warm.
You felt the tension in your chest begin to dissolve as he held you, his grip tightening slightly as if he were afraid you might vanish if he let go.
“Better?” he murmured after a moment, his voice soft and almost teasing.
You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your smile genuine for the first time in weeks. “Much better.”
And for the first time, the Doctor allowed himself to relax, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small but genuine smile of his own.
“Good,” he said simply, and though his voice was as gruff as ever, there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter.
From the radio beside your hostel bed, a song you both recognised as one from Earth began to play, and you smiled widely when the Doctor offered a hand.
"A dance?" The Doctor asked, one attack-eyebrow twitching upwards as he smirked.
"Who are you and what have you done with my Doctor?" You asked mockingly, but you accepted his hand anyway and beamed when the two of you started to spin around the hostel room.
"You're just too good to be true
Can't take my eyes off of you
You'd be like Heaven to touch
I wanna hold you so much..."
how do you think your favorite doctor(s) would act when they're sick or injured and their companion is caring for them? does that make any sense lol
a/n ooo I have ideas for this one!
Pairing: 10/11/12 Doctors x GN!Reader
Fandom: Doctor Who
Genre: headcannons
Word Count: 815
Warnings: slight mentions of injuries
10th Doctor
"what!?"
he would deny needing help, but with enough pleading and puppy-dog-eyes you would eventually get him to settle down enough to let you stop him from going on an adventure
"i'm fine!"
"you got stabbed by a half-platypus-half-jaguar-half-whatever-the-hell-that-thing-was alien on a jungle planet, doctor. you're not fine."
you would try to get him to stay in bed, but whenever you left his room for more than a minute you'd return to find him either jumping up and down on the bed or running around the TARDIS halls.
"i can't just sit around doing nothing all day!" although when you were around in his room he found it fine to sit around.
eventually, you and the TARDIS ganged up on him and the TARDIS locked the door to his room, only opening it when you wanted to leave.
the TARDIS also moved your things to his bedroom so that you could make sure he didn't do anything silly while his injury was being healed, and when his wound had finally healed, both you and the time lord came to a silent mutual agreement that your things wouldn't be moving back.
11th Doctor
like his previous regeneration, he would be in denial that he had any sort of injury whatsoever, even after seeing the results from the TARDIS scan.
you and the TARDIS had to force him away from the console room into his bedroom.
when you lounged around the TARDIS for the next couple of hours, you heard him banging at his door (which the TARDIS had locked) and he only stopped when you finally opened the door for him.
"...yes?"
there would be silence before he spoke meekly. "if you're going to force me in here... at least keep me company?" you weren't exactly complaining.
for the next couple of days, you would help the timelord change his bandages with the assistance of the TARDIS and bring food to him (three whole days of endless requests of jammie dodgers and fish fingers and custard... the only reason you coped was because it was the doctor asking).
he would 100% seek any form of physical contact with you, if you were okay with that. he would lay his head on your shoulder while you watched your favourite TV show. not his, since he stated he didn't have one (he did, but he wanted to watch whatever you wanted to watch). he would fall asleep with his head in your lap as you read whatever book the TARDIS gave you aloud to him.
after he recovered, he would remember all the things you let slip during your conversations with him. your favourite place that you had travelled to with him so far (he would take you back), your favourite foods and drinks, and any place you wanted to go. whatever you asked, the doctor would gladly give to you.
12th Doctor
this doctor would try endlessly to convince you that he's just fine
he's a time lord, after all, a simple, common human cold would not affect him! (that's what he kept telling himself, choosing to ignore the constant coughs and sniffles that escaped from him)
when you ask him if he's alright when you witness him fall asleep for the first time (the doctor... sleeping! you never thought you'd see this day), he waves you off and takes you on an adventure
little did he know that that adventure would end in you dragging him back to the TARDIS after he offended some kind of turtle-human alien hybrid race and was too sick to defend the two of you
after that, the doctor continues to grumble and complain when you insist on not going on any adventures for a while (he secretly is grateful, but he'd never tell you that)
you'd find him asleep in the most random places - on the floor of the console room, in the library... etc
noticing how he's intentionally ignoring your asks to help him, you and the TARDIS work together to find little ways to make him feel better.
you prepare tea in the kitchen and get the TARDIS to send it to his room for him with a small note along the lines of "get better soon!" from you. you make him the comfort meal the two of you found together when you travelled. you send him new books to read and sheet music to play on his guitar
in his absence (he refuses to let you in his room to see him in such a weak state), you find a new guitar appear in your room and you start to teach yourself how to play. you learn a few basic chords and begin to build up your skills until one day, you notice someone standing behind you.
"doctor?"
"yes?"
"are you okay now?"
"yes."
there would be a silent pause before the doctor offered tentatively to teach you how to play the guitar properly, and only a short pause before you agreed.
the doctor would never admit that it was him who gifted you the guitar, though
Pairing: Dhawan!Master x Companion!Reader
Fandom: Doctor Who
Summary: The Master never thought that you would really run away from him, and when you do, he broke.
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: angst! not proofread!
Part Two of Only When You Look Away
You should’ve known he’d follow.
The Master didn’t let things go. Not victories, not slights, not people. Especially not people who slipped through his fingers.
But it still startled you when the uneven rhythm of his footsteps echoed in the alley, growing closer with each deliberate beat. You stiffened where you sat slumped against the wall, head tipped back against the cold stone.
He didn’t call your name.. of course he didn’t! That would’ve been too human, too disgustingly easy. Instead, he spoke like you were prey he’d been circling for hours, savouring the reveal.
“Running from me, are we?” His voice slashed the quiet.
You didn’t look up. “You seemed pretty busy.”
“Oh, don’t do that.” His voice was smaller than usual, but just as wild one second and soft the next. “You disappeared. That’s my trick.” His boots thumped closer, closer.
You forced yourself to keep your voice level. “I didn’t disappear, I just left. You're the one who didn't notice."
That earned a sharp laugh, hollow and humourless. “Poor little shadow,” he was mocking you. “Sulking because she thinks she’s invisible. Thought I wouldn’t care?”
That cut, but you swallowed the sting. “I thought you wouldn’t bother. You were too caught up with the Doctor-”
"Don't say her name." The words came rushed and hot. You still refused to look at him, staring at the ground.
For a moment, the Time Lord was still. The silence that followed was almost worse than his voice. You felt it before you saw it: the heat of him, suddenly right behind you, breath brushing your ear.
“You don’t get to presume what I do or don’t care about.”
You finally turned, and for a moment, you almost wished you hadn’t. He looked feral. Tie loose, hair half-falling into his face, eyes lit like burning coals. But beneath the mania there was something raw and frantic. Like if he blinked, you’d be gone again.
“You only care about all of this because I left, you with her,” you said quietly. The words shook, but you forced them out. “If she had stayed, would you have come for me?" The silence was all you needed as an answer. "Exactly."
His jaw twitched. His hands curled like he wanted to strangle the thought itself.
“I wouldn't be so sure,” he whispered.
The softness of it landed harder than any shouted fury. Because you could see it, he meant it. Or he believed he did, and with him, wasn’t that the same thing? For once, he didn’t have a retort ready. His gaze dragged over your face, searching like the truth might be written on your skin if only he looked long enough. Finally, his lips curled. It wasn't his infamous grin, but in something close to painful grimace.
“You think I don’t see you,” his voice had gone low. “But I do. Every second of every long day. You’re always there. The only one who always stays.”
“Then why do I always feel like a shadow when the Doc- she’s mentioned?”
His breath hitched, the same way it did every time the Doctor's name was spoken, and for the first time you wondered if he hated the Doctor more for rejecting him… or for the way you dared to try and name her again.
He didn’t answer with words. Instead, his hand shot out, tangling with yours in a grip almost painful. Not gentle, not tender. Desperate. A drowning man clutching the one thing keeping him afloat.
“You never leave me,” he rasped. Not a plea. A command dressed as confession.
"I wouldn't be so sure," you echoed his empty words from before. The Master slid down onto the ground beside you, brown eyes suddenly searching yours with intent.
For a long while, neither of you moved, the alley seemingly folding in on itself until it felt like there was nothing left of the world beyond the two of you, just the damp bricks pressing into your spine and the uneven thud of his pulse where his hand clamped over yours, and you could feel him shaking, though he’d rather die and never be regenerated than admit it, that tremor that betrayed the mask he wore even when he laughed in the face of death. He stared at you like he was trying to weld you in place with sheer force of will, like if he blinked too long you’d melt back into shadow and be gone again, and it frightened you because you almost believed he could do it.
The silence stretched, then bent until it threatened to snap, and when he finally spoke it wasn’t the sharpness of a knife but the splintered edge of something already broken, his words spilling too fast, too uneven, as though he’d been holding them inside for centuries and now they tumbled out without his permission.
“I can’t,” his throat caught on the words and he swallowed hard, eyes flicking down as if ashamed of their own treachery.
"Can't what?"
“I can’t lose you, not after everything, not after-” He cut himself off, teeth bared like the admission was poison, then lurched forward until his forehead pressed into your shoulder, the hot weight of him trembling against you, all rage burned away into something raw and terribly human. "I never told you what she did to me." You waited, but the Master seemed to reconsider if he should be telling you. "She burned Gallifrey. My family..." Your eyes slowly met his again.
"You have family?"
"Had," His voice was sharp with pain. “You think I don’t notice, you think I don’t care unless it’s her, but you don’t understand. Do you even know what it does to me, knowing you’d rather vanish than stay in my orbit, knowing you’d rather disappear into nothing than let me keep you?” His voice rose and fell like waves breaking, ragged, furious not at you but at the very idea, and the hand tangled in yours tightened to the point of pain as though your bones themselves were the only tether holding him steady.
You could have told him to let go, you could have reminded him that this wasn’t the same as choosing, that desperation wasn’t devotion, but before you could speak he drew back just enough to look at you again.
“Stay,” he choked, and the word tore out of him like it cost more than blood. “Stay, don’t make me search the universe again, don’t vanish where I can’t reach you, don’t leave me with her ghost and the drums rattling around my skull while yours is gone too. I can fight her, I can hate her, but I can’t-” His voice cracked, his chest heaving with the weight of all the unsaid things, the word can’t shuddering into the air again, “I can’t lose you as well.”
His hands framed your face now, rough, trembling, unsteady as they dragged you closer, his forehead nearly slamming against yours in his urgency. “Please,” he whispered, the syllable unravelling him as he said it. “Please stay. I’ll tear the stars apart if I have to, I’ll burn everything before I let you slip through my fingers again, just- don’t go."
For a few moments, you could only stare at him. At the rawness cracking his voice, at the wreck of him pressed so close you could feel every tremor he tried to choke down. Maybe once upon a time you would have laughed at the idea of the Master on his knees in an alley begging someone to stay, but right now there was nothing funny about the way his desperation rang through the air.
His breath hitched as he waited, every muscle strung tight as though he were bracing himself for the final blow, as though your silence alone could unmake him. You realised with a sudden, almost painful clarity that you were holding the fuse to a bomb he’d been building inside himself for lifetimes.
And so you said it, quiet and steady. Just the word itself, small and impossibly sharp.
“Okay.”
The change was instant, like you’d opened a pressure valve, his whole body collapsing forward with a shuddering exhale that sounded half like relief and half like disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite fathom you’d given him what he wanted so simply. His grip loosened just enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin instead of the threat of his strength, and for a moment he just stared at you, mouth open, chest heaving, as though you’d spoken a language he hadn’t heard in centuries.
“Okay?” he echoed, and the word was so broken, so reverent, that it almost undid you more than his pleading had, like he was tasting it on his tongue, testing the shape of a future he hadn’t dared to imagine. His eyes closed and his forehead pressed back against yours, the faintest tremor still running through him, but softer now, no longer wild with fear, only undone by the simple, devastating mercy you had offered.
"I'll stay," you agreed. "But a few things have to change."
"Anything and everything will," his voice echoed in the alley like a promise.
You held his gaze, searching for the inevitable crack, the moment when the mania would flare again and unravel everything, but instead he only nodded once, sharp and certain, as though the promise had already been carved into stone.
For the first time in what felt like forever, the alley was quiet. Not with the silence of absence, but with the silence of something unspoken settling between you. Maybe it wouldn’t last, maybe it was doomed before it even began, but for now, you stayed. And so did he.
In a room full of people
I look for you
Would you avoid me
Or would you look for me too?
hi! I've been really into doctor who lately, but I can't find many headcanons on tumblr!! if you have time or are interested, can you do headcanons of 9,10, and 11 having a crush on the reader? (or if you'd rather only do one, that's fine too!)
a/n hey! i absolutely love this idea... so let's do it!! i'm going to do this with our wonderful time lords 9 and 10.
Pairing: 9/10th Doctor x GN!Reader
Fandom: Doctor Who
Genre: headcannons, fluff
Word Count: 708
Warnings: Nothing really... Obliviousness? Denial?
9th Doctor
he would never admit it, but he notices these little things about you.
your laugh... how the corners of your eyes crinkle and your head tilts back when something amuses you. he notices that when whatever you're laughing at is funny enough, your laugh turns into a bit of a wheeze. he can tell you're embarrassed by it, but he thinks its cute adorable nice.
he notices what your favourite colour is, and when he gets you a big box full of stuff that is your favourite colour he feels a smile stretch over his face when you grin. when you ask how he knew your favourite colour, he lied and said that the TARDIS told him (to which the TARDIS hummed in disagreement).
he notices what your favourite food is. he even takes you to the past/future to let you try all the different variations of your favourite foods.
he calls you "fantastic" a lot (Rose and Jack definitely notice)
he sees how close you are with Rose and Jack, but although he doesn't mind Rose, Jack notices how the time-lord's eyes get just a bit darker and a frown is etched on his face whenever he sees you with the 'handsome' ex-time-agent.
he never tells you any of this, though, because he doesn't know how he feels. the time war is still too fresh in his mind for him to come to terms with his emotions.
if you are there when he regenerates (which of course you are) he'll tell you that you were "bloody fantastic" one last time before the golden glow covers his body.
10th Doctor
this version of the time lord is different... you're not complaining though.
he rambles and rambles on about the planets, stars, and the galaxy and tells you about all the places he is going to take you (all the companions tell you he's just trying to impress you, but you wave them off, telling them he's just being his regular time lord self)
he can't help but smile when you smile, laugh when you laugh, and he has to fight of his tears when he sees you cry.
when you both lose Rose, he really does cry with you. he holds you tighter than ever and vows to never let the terrors of the universe reach you.
when you both meet Martha, the Doctor notices how you and her get along almost as well as you did with Rose. he happily takes the med-student along with you on your new adventures
he's beyond terrified when he gets possessed by the sun, thinking that he's going to hurt you (or worse, kill you) and there would be nothing he could do to stop himself. when you and martha save him, he contemplates taking you home, where you'd be safe from all the dangers of travelling with him, but you tell him that you're going to stay with him forever. he's stuck with you now (and he's not complaining at all)
when he turns into john smith, he falls in love with you instead of the matron. when the family of blood is defeated and he turns back into his old self, he hates that he can't bring himself to tell you that those three months, a mere fraction in his time lord life, was the best that he had ever lived.
after a year without you and the torture of being with the Master, the Doctor realises how short his time with you might be. when he sees his old friend, the Master, dying in his arms, he knows that he'd never forgive himself if he let anything happen to you
he finally tells you that he loves you
happily, he takes you out to romantic locations across the galaxy, picnics on New Earth, watching outer-space operas, and even just sitting on beaches on a planet where the ocean glows with pink and purple hues. he loves doing what you love
when Donna comes along, the Doctor and you both find her to be an amazing friend, and when you both meet a strange woman named River Song at the Library, she grins knowingly, knowing what the future had in store for the both of you.
Pairing: Hunter (TBB) x Jedi!Fem!Reader
Summary: After your meeting with Rex, you and the Batch thought that you would never have to worry about the inhibitor chips hurting anyone else again. Turns out you were wrong when Hunter's chip activates, causing him to turn against you and the rest of the Batch.
Word Count: 3K
Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt no comfort descriptions of injury
Part Two Here
After meeting with Rex, an old friend of yours and the rest of the Batch, you didn't think you would have to worry about those damned inhibitor chips again. After all, Rex assured you that after the surgery the chips weren't an issue. Turns out he was wrong.
You should've realised something was wrong when Hunter started complaining about his head hurting. You had dwelled vaguely on it, but ultimately decided that it was probably just the weight of everything that had happened after the war - Order 66, finding Omega... it was a lot for anyone. Even a tough Clone Sergeant like Hunter.
You had met Hunter and the rest of the Batch during the final year of the Clone Wars, when you had been excused briefly from your role as Co-General of the 212th Attack Battalion (the other General was your close friend Obi-Wan Kenobi) to help Anakin Skywalker save one of his 501st troopers, Echo. You still remembered and reminisced the exact moment the strange clones stepped down from their ship onto the Coruscant ground.
The Marauder descended from the cloudy Coruscant sky as you stood on the landing platform with Rex, Cody, Kix, and Jesse, bouncing on your heels with anticipation as you awaited the arrival of the so called Bad Batch.
"So, how come I've never heard of this squad?" You asked, and Cody raised an eyebrow, but answered regardless
"Experimental unit Clone Force 99. They’re defective clones with, uh… Desirable mutations." Cody answered, "They call themselves the Bad Batch." The five of you lifted your arms to shield yourselves from the wind as the ship landed with a woosh on the landing platform, and your eyes lit up with curiosity as four clones, varying in height and build and sporting darker coloured clone armour, walked slowly down the ramp.
The tallest and largest one removed his helmet with a wide grin on his face. He sported a scar across the left side of his face, and one blind eye. "The cavalry has arrived!" He hollered.
Behind your back, you heard Kix whispering to Jesse about how the approaching squad didn't look like clones at all, and you couldn't help but agree. Following the first clone's example, the other members of the Batch removed their helmets. There was a lanky one with a datapad in hand and orange-tinted goggles covering his eyes, a tall, slim clone with a target-shaped scar (or maybe it was a tattoo, you couldn't tell) over one eye). The slim clone placed a toothpick in his mouth as he approached them, eyes landing disdainfully on the other clones.
The final clone was just a bit taller than average height, and muscular (not in the same way as Wrecker). He was more similar to the face of the other, regular clones, but he was so... different at the same time. The entire left side of his face was tattooed a darker shade with half of a skull while the right side of his face was left normal. He had sharper amber eyes that pierced into you, unlike the other clones, and had longish dark brown hair, kept away from his forehead by a red bandana sporting a small white skull symbol.
When his eyes met yours, you sucked in a sharp breath. You held eye contact for a second until Cody stepped forward and held out a hand, causing him to cease eye contact with you and focus on Cody.
"Sergeant Hunter. Good to see you again."
Hunter.
"You too, sir." The Sergeant replied earnestly. His voice was different from the clones too. It had just a bit of a smoother edge, like a sly fox, but still held the commanding tone of a commanding soldier. "Sorry we’re late, Commander. We were putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen… complications."
"Ever fought a male Yalbec?" The large, muscular clone asked loudly, holding his belly as he laughed.
"Can't say I have," Jesse answered before anyone else could
"Well, all those Yalbec males tried to eat us." The clone was cut off by the clone with the goggles.
"Ah, technically they were trying to mate with us." The clone rambled. "And, for your information, the stinger of a Yalbec Queen is a delicacy on some planets."
"They call him Tech." Cody told them.
"Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours." Hunter explained, his amber eyes drifted away from Cody back to you. "Crosshair, on the other hand, is not much of a conversationalist, but when you have to hit a precise target from ten klicks, Crosshair’s your man." Hunter paused, and you took a moment to compose yourself before introducing yourself. "It's a pleasure, General."
"The pleasure's mine, Sergeant."
There was a small silence after that, and you swallowed visibley at the tension. You were a Jedi, you always knew how to interact with people without making things awkward... that was pretty much your entire job before the Clone Wars started. So why were you finding it so hard now?
"So, Commander, what kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?" Hunter finally spoke, tearing his eyes away from glancing up and down your body to look at Cody. Cody cleared his throat, and began explaining the mission as you felt a small elbow on the back from Kix and Jesse. You turned around to see both clones sporting knowing smirks, and causing you to roll your eyes and shove both of their chest plates softly, nearly groaning at their antics.
"Let’s get going, men." You interrupted. "We’ll brief you on the way. There's no time to waste."
Now, standing in behind of Hunter as he suddenly froze, the only movement in the room being the flickering of a candle on a table and the slightest tremble of Hunter's body as he stopped, immobilised in a slightly crouching position.
"Hunter?"
The former sergeant didn't respond, only trembled slightly. Although you had cut yourself off from most of the force, using it being too dangerous after the events of Order 66, you could feel how his force signature was suddenly sucked out of him, as if he hadn't even existed in the first place.
"Hunter, what's wrong?"
Hunter slowly, almost cautiously stood up from his crouched position, not turning around, but still trembling.
"Hunter?" You quickly approached him, worry coursing through your veins as you placed a soft hand on his shoulder plate, frowning further when he still didn't turn around. "Just... wait a moment. I'll call Tech." You dialed in the com-channel with your free hand, one hand still resting on the former sergeant shoulder, not noticing at all that the trembling had ceased. "Here we go." Your smiled slightly in relief when Tech's voice's, but your heart immediately stopped when you focused in on what he was saying as he called out your name urgently.
"I've figured out the reason for the headaches." Tech was saying, his speech rapid and stressed. It was the most panicked you had ever heard him before. "It's his chip. You have to get out of there, now!"
Before you could react, Hunter turned around at the speed of light and pushed you so hard you were sent flying backwards into the opposite wall, the communication device . If it weren't for your slightly enhanced senses that being force-sensitive had granted you, there would've been at least three knives embedded in your body before you even had the chance to move. Luckily, you were flexible and able to move fast enough to grab two of his knives from the wall, one in each hand, and defend yourself when Hunter suddenly appeared beside you, slashing his vibro-blades in precise arcs towards you, only to be either dodged or stopped by the knives that you had stolen from him.
After a couple of minutes of defending yourself, you were beginning to tire out. It wasn't because Hunter was an extremely difficult opponent -you had faced Grievous during the war with only one lightsaber to fight against his countless ones, which you still considered your hardest duel to this day - but because you couldn't bring yourself to fight back. It was a one-sided duel.
"Hunter-" you tried, only to be cut off by dodging another strike. "Hunter, please-"
There was no response, only the continued whooshing of air that followed Hunter's calculated attacks. Slowly tiring out, you realised that you had to make your escape before things got bad. Slowly retreating, you gasped in pain as Hunter's knife finally made contact with its target, slicing diagonally across from your chin across your cheek. Dropping one of the knives instinctively to place a hand on your cheek, you couldn't make a sound as you felt Hunter kick the knife out of your other hand and wrap his arm around your neck from behind, slowly forcing your air supply to drop as you struggled in his grip.
"Hunter-"
"Your survival is in direct violation to Order 66," Hunter stated, and even though his voice sounded more emotionless than you had ever heard it before, you heard the slightest tremble in his voice... and that gave you hope.
Hunter's grip around your neck tightened, causing the world around you to slowly begin to dim as the corners of your vision turned black. In a final attempt, you closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of him around you as you delved into the Force for the first timed in what seemed like centuries, finding his mind and projecting your voice.
"HUNTER!"
Immediately, the former sergeant let out a sharp gasp in surprise as his arms loosened around you and he clutched at his head, as if trying to get the sound of your voice out. Taking the opportunity, you bolted towards the nearest window, not looking back as you quickly made your descent into the busy streets below, blending into the crowd to ensure that Hunter wouldn't find you.
...
"It's a risk-"
"A risk worth taking."
You were gathered in a small huddle inside the Marauder as Tech was giving his brief. It had been two weeks since Hunter's inhibitor chip had activated, even though you had all believed that it had been taken out. Tech told you that since Hunter was the last to remove his chip, the technology on the crashed Jedi cruiser might not have successfully removed all of the remnants, giving the Empire control over his mind.
You had been worried sick about him. What if Hunter had been killed by the Empire upon his return? Realistically, you knew the Empire wouldn't waste what they saw as a 'valuable asset', but you couldn't help but stress as your hand reached up to brush against the scar that had formed on the cut that Hunter had made on your face. When you returned to the Marauder, the bacta patch hadn't been applied quick enough and the wound was too deep not to scar. The bruises around your neck were just fading.
The Marauder had been your home for a while now. After Order 66, you had bumped into the Bad Batch coincidentally while they were on some sort of mission for their new employer, some lizard named Cid. You didn't really like Cid, so you had asked them not to reveal your identity to her. Ever since then, there was always a place on the ship for you. There were two spare bunks, which was perfect for you and Omega.
"I don't like this plan..." Omega spoke up, her wide-blown brown eyes filled with concern. "This puts everyone in danger."
"We're always in danger-" you were cut off as Omega continued.
"Especially you." Omega exclaimed, staring at you pleadingly. You sighed as you bent down on one knee in front of the small clone.
"Hey... we're going to be okay," you promised with a small smile. "We're always okay. Aren't we, boys?" Echo shrugged, Wrecker nodded his head enthusiastically, Crosshair continued polishing his rifle, and Tech shook his head. "Wow. Thanks to Wrecker and only Wrecker."
"You got it!"
"I'll keep an eye on our sarad," Crosshair told Omega, who didn't look a bit less stressed. Sarad, meaning flower in Mando'a, was the Batch's nickname for you. It had become more common to use the nickname than your real name, at this point.
"See?" You told Omega. "I'll be fine. Promise." Omega's eyes darted around the room as if looking for support, but each of her brother's expressions were just as determined as yours.
"We're going to get Hunter back safely." Echo exclaimed, and the rest of the Batch nodded in approval, even Crosshair gave the slightest bob of the head. At that, Omega sighed as she quickly ran over to you, still on one knee. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you returned the hug effortlessly. As a Jedi, you didn't really hug people often. You supposed this was one of the good things that came with the end of the Order - freedom with your own emotions.
"Stay safe," Omega whispered in your ear.
"Always."
...
Walking through the dense forest of some planet on the edges of the Outer Rim, you held on tightly to the blaster that you had brought with you. The plan to get Hunter back was simple. Tech had tracked Hunter down. He had returned to the Empire and was now in full service, going on missions to hunt down the remaining Jedi. As far as you knew, he hadn't caught any so far, but he would've informed the Empire of your survival.
Tech's plan was for you to go in alone, this time fully equipped if a fight broke out. He would stay with the Marauder nearby while Echo and Wrecker distracted the team that Hunter was sent with and Crosshair found a sniper's nest somewhere and watched your backs. All you had to do was stun Hunter with your blaster and bring him back to the Marauder so that Tech could perform a surgery to remove what remained of the Inhibitor chip.
As you continued to make your way through the forest, stopping at a clearing, you could feel his presence behind you. You had known that he was following you for a while, but you wanted to wait for him to attack first. What was curious was that he didn't. As you made your way to the middle of the small clearing, you turned on your heel to face him.
And there he was.
The trees cast a shadow over his body, and the only light that illuminated either one of them was the dual white moons that slowly moved over the clear night sky. You tightened your grip on your blaster as you stared at him.
Hunter's black and red armour had been replaced by clean grey armour, with no embellishments whatsoever. Your nose scrunched up at that. The Empire was disgusting for not letting its soldiers have personality... or control over their own minds.
Surprisingly, Hunter began to speak first. "It seems as if you came to me."
"What gave it away?" You retorted.
"A miscalculated decision on your behalf," Hunter continued as if he hadn't heard you. You shook your head at the way he was speaking. Hunter didn't talk like this... "You were quite easy to track, but it almost seemed as if you wanted me to find you."
"Hunter," You pleaded, a wave of emotion suddenly crashing over you. "Please. We just want you to come home."
"Home," Hunter mused mockingly, his head tilting to the side. Even through his grey helmet, you could feel his cold gaze on you. "What an idiotic thought-"
"It's not," You cut him off. "You have a home, and it's with us! With your Batch, and Omega, and..." you swallowed visibly. "And me." Hunter remained silent as you slowly took a step towards him, then another. And another.
"Don't think I didn't notice all those times you called me those nicknames." You continued as you got closer and closer. "Mesh'la, cyar'ika... I asked Echo what they meant and he said they were names that Mandalorians used to call their loved ones." You let out a quiet laugh. You were less than five feet away from him now. "And I don't know how exactly you feel about me, but I know how I feel about you." You sighed stopped directly in front of him. "Jedi's aren't supposed to form attachments, or feel things, or say these things to others but... I'm not a Jedi anymore. The Order is long gone, and I'm free to say whatever the kriff I want." There was a short pause. "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum."
Both of you let out a quiet gasp at the same time, as Hunter immediately fell backwards and collapsed on the floor, the blue stun bolt shining across his body before dissipating into the air. You felt the blinding pain before you saw it. Two vibro-blades had pierced through your armour at strategic points, because Hunter knew where the weak spots in your armour were. One blade was in your stomach, and another was right in your heart.
You let out a choked breath as you stumbled back, helplessly trying to stop the flow of blood as you collapsed on your knees and landed on your side on the grass. You tasted iron as blood slowly began to fill your mouth from internal wounds. Hunter knew exactly where he stabbed you.
Somewhere in the distance, you swore you could hear Crosshair yelling at his brothers, telling them that you were hit, that you were down, but you felt yourself not caring as you began to feel... nothing.
The last thing you did was turn to see Hunter's fallen body and pray that the Batch was close enough to rescue the one that you had fallen for before the darkness came to bring you home.
"Why'd you have to lead me on?Why'd you have to twist the knife?
Walk away and leave me bleeding, bleeding?
Why'd you whisper in the dark?
Just to leave me in the night?
Now your silence has me screaming, screaming"
- Say Don't Go (Taylor Swift)
end
... or is it? should i do a part 2? comment or jump in my requests if you want one! this is my first star wars fic so please be kind!!
update : part two is coming!
xx dreamtheatre
requests are open!!
Okay so you know the episode "Mummy on the Orient express" ? So imagine if the reader is in there with the Doctor (Clara can be there or not, don't really care either way) and after they know that the Mummy kills people the Mummy gets the reader. The reader dies. Would you write that?
a/n yess i am so ready to feed y'all some angst 🫠 i've been so inactive recently but i'm ready to get back to writing!!
Seconds Away
Pairing: 12th Doctor x Companion!Reader
Summary: You had travelled with the Doctor for what felt like ages, and boarding a train travelling through space wasn't a journey that seemed out of the ordinary. However, when you start to see a figure flickering in the corner of your vision, you begin to fear for the worst.
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt no comfort (I MEAN NO COMFORT), descriptions of injury
You’d seen a lot of strange things since the Doctor pulled you aboard the TARDIS. Planets with red oceans that glimmered as it reflected the azure glow of the blue twin suns, trees so tall that they rose beyond the clouds, and countless alien species that ranged from beavers that sang opera to shapeshifting fish.
However, one thing you hadn't seen yet was The Orient Express... in space.
You clutched the stem of a champagne glass and stared at the opulence around you. The train was regal, with gilded walls, crystalline chandeliers, and servers in pressed uniforms strutting past. Queen's Don't Stop Me Now played quietly in the background, and you sighed as you watched the passing stars and planets from the carriage window. There was a small red star in the distance that you kept your eye on as the train zoomed past. Your thoughts drifted back to one of the Doctor's rants, and you thought vaguely about how stars being red meant that they would collapse in on themselves and die, forming a nebula or a supernova.
On the thought of the Time Lord, you stole a glance at the other end of the carriage, where The Doctor was chatting to a professor about "mythology crossovers and psychic echoes", whatever that meant.
He hadn't looked your way in a while.
It felt like you were just tagging along this time. Still, the stars outside the window were breathtaking.
Then the lights flickered.
You turned, and that’s when you saw it.
A figure. Shrouded in ancient bandages, skin leathery and dried, eyes impossibly hollow. It was clear what it was - you had learnt about these in school. A Mummy, and it was real, walking straight toward the old woman across from you.
“Can you see that?” you whispered to no one in particular. You glanced over to the Doctor, who was still talking to that professor, not sparing a glance.
As the mummy neared her, the woman gasped, clutching her chest, and you backed away, reaching for the Doctor as your eyes widened in horror. Is she dying? You asked yourself painfully, knowing that there was nothing you could do for her.
The Doctor turned around when he heard the thud of the woman falling to the ground, and reached to push you behind him as he ran across the carriage to her. It didn't take a genius Time Lord to figure out the woman was dead.
You swallowed visibly as the Doctor turned around, eyes narrowing at the passengers which started to surround them, chatting under their breaths about the old woman's sudden collapse. The Captain appeared, ushering them away as the Doctor returned to you. Your eyes searched the carriage frantically, but the Mummy had disappeared. Were you hallucinating?
"Are you alright?" He asked gruffly, immediately becoming more alert when danger appeared.
"For now," you frowned. "But did you see it?"
"See what?" The Doctor's attack eyebrows raised.
"The Mummy. The one that touched her." You answered, and the Doctor shook his head, deep in thought.
"We should get back to the TARDIS," He sighed after a while. "If you really saw a Mummy and no one else did, it's not a good sign."
"We're not leaving until we find out what's going on," You argued, appalled by the Doctor's sudden statement. "We can't leave these people alone."
"But what if it's targeting you?" The Doctor reasoned. "You can see it and no one else can. I can't let you..." The Time Lord swallowed, glancing anywhere but at your face. "I can't let something happen to you. I've lost too much." You softened at his words. The Doctor was never vulnerable towards anyone.
"Nothing will happen to me, Doctor." You said solemnly. "I promise." The Doctor shook his head, but when his tired eyes met your hopeful ones, he cracked.
"Fine," He relented, "but after this I take you someplace safe. No more death and destruction."
"You keep saying that," You giggled.
"I know a place," he mused. "An unnamed moon that orbits a sun. No inhabitants or noise. Just us."
"Just us," You grinned. "Sounds nice." The Time Lord's mouth twitched upwards in a smile that only you caught.
...
"We've figured out the pattern," the Doctor said, urgency in every syllable. His graying hair was wild, and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you listened along with the other passengers to every word. "The Foretold, the Mummy, gives its victim 66 seconds. It’s invisible to everyone else. But when your time is up, it’s up.”
You stood beside him in the narrow lab of the train, trying to ignore the way your hands shook.
"So... no way to run? No way to fight back?" You asked.
"I'm working on it."
You gave a thin laugh. "That’s comforting."
He looked at you then. Really looked. The sharpness in his gaze softened, just for a second. "You don't have to be here. You have the TARDIS key."
"Too late now," you said, managing a half-smile. "I'm already here."
"Go to sleep," The Doctor whispered, seeing the dark bags under your eyes. "I'll see you in the morning."
...
It happened when you were alone. Of course it did.
One moment, you were walking back to your quarters. The next—ice crawled up your spine. A shift in the air.
And then you saw it.
The Mummy.
It was real. Real in a way that your brain couldn't fully process. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but you knew what that meant. The Doctor said running didn't matter.
Your breath hitched, eyes widening as it approached you, an arm reached out as browning bandages dragged across the carpeted floor, staining it with dirt and soot. You tried to scream, but every word stuck in your throat.
The lights flickered.
Somewhere in your mind, a countdown began.
66.
You tried to scream for the Doctor, but nothing came out. Backing towards the door, you pleaded desperately through your thoughts.
57.
No answer. The Mummy moved closer, its feet scraping against the floor like dry leaves, echoing horrifyingly throughout the carriage in a sound that reminded you of nails on a chalkboard.
49.
Your back hit the wall. No escape. The corridor twisted and warped around you as the world began to collapse. You felt starved for air.
42.
You remembered his voice. “If you see it... it’s already chosen you.”
38.
Your knees buckled.
31.
A voice crackled over your communicator. The communicator that was in your necklace, gifted to you by the Doctor. "Are you there?" The Doctor's voice was frantic.
26.
“I see it,” you whispered, your voice finally escaping. “Doctor, I see it.”
21.
He was yelling something now. You couldn’t make out the words as you fingers lost control and the necklace fell back onto your chest.
15.
You looked into the eyes of the Mummy. It stopped. just a breath away.
10.
There was something in its expression.
Not malice.
Just inevitability.
5.
You eyelids suddenly felt heavy as you shut your eyes. Breathing was too much effort.
3.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, hoping your voice would reach the communicator. "Doctor, please. I'm scared."
1.
...
When the Doctor arrived, it was too late. Your body was crumpled on the floor. Eyes wide. Still. Like the others.
He didn’t say anything at first, kneeling beside you and checking hopelessly for a pulse, knowing he wouldn't find anything.
He should've took you back to the TARDIS when he had the chance. He should've let the Mummy murder everyone on the train. Anything to keep you safe. No one in the universe was more important to him than you were.
The Doctor's hand hovered over your face before curling into a fist, falling back down beside him. He couldn't touch you. Not after what he had caused.
“You said you were scared,” he whispered, searching your glassy eyes for anything. “You didn’t have to be. I was always going to come for you.”
The Time Lord looked up at the stars beyond the glass and hated how peaceful they looked. He hated the universe for taking you away from him. You didn't deserve to die. It was a painful reminder of what travelling with him meant, and that every companion left in the end.
"I'm sorry," The Doctor's voice trembled. First Rose, then Martha, then Donna, Amy and Rory, and you. Every one left him. But somehow losing you was the worst thing that had happened to him. If a Dalek appeared in the carriage beside him, he wouldn't care if he was shot and died. Maybe he would see you again.
The Doctor felt torn. He could stay here with you or go back to the TARDIS and break the laws of time to bring you back to him. He would do it, he should do it, but he felt he would only hurt you more in the end.
He laid down on the carpeted carriage floor beside you, ignoring the faint tickle from the fuzzy ground. He felt like he could lay there forever, watching the stars fly past until he disintegrated into dust, returning to the universe.
"I should've protected you."
...
The planet was quiet.
A small, unnamed moon orbiting a sun. No people. No noise. Just wind and stars. The Doctor said you’d like it before taking you aboard that train.
He stood alone, dark coat billowing gently, staring down at the grave he’d built himself. No ceremony. No fanfare. Just a marker of pale stone. Simple. Clean. Yours.
He’d carved the words by hand, in Circular Gallifreyan. Your name beside his.
He didn’t speak for a long time. Just stood there, hands in his pockets, lips pressed in a tight line.
“I should’ve saved you.”
His voice was low. Raspy.
“I was seconds away. I’ve gotten there with less time. Less warning. But this time…”
He looked up at the sky. At the tiny, cold sun that still tried to shine.
“You weren’t supposed to die in a hallway. You were supposed to live forever. At least longer than me.”
His hand reached into his coat pocket. He pulled something out—small, metallic, glinting faintly in the dim light.
The necklace .
Yours.
The communicator was imbedded in the clock pendant. "Time Lord," You had joked. "Now I keep time with me."
The Doctor laid it down on the ground. “I’ll keep the memory,” he swallowed. “You keep the time.”
The TARDIS was too quiet without you. The halls still echoed with your footsteps, your laugh, your questions that he never got around to answering.
He sat on the edge of the console platform, shoulders hunched, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the railing.
The TARDIS hummed softly. Mournfully.
“I didn’t know how much I liked having you here,” he murmured.
Your coat was still hanging near the door. He hadn’t touched it. Couldn’t.
“You asked me, once, if I ever regretted bringing someone along.” He tilted his head, eyes distant. “I gave you a clever answer. Some metaphor about stardust and risk. But truth is—I don’t regret bringing you.”
He looked up at the rotor. The engine pulsed blue.
Silence.
A beat.
Then, softly, the TARDIS adjusted course. No destination set. Just moving. Drifting.
He let it take him. He didn’t care where. He opened the TARDIS doors, gazing out into space until his eyes fixed on a red star in the distance. He once told you that red stars were on the verge of collapsing in on themselves and forming either a supernova or a nebula. He didn't know if you had been listening, but a part of him knew that if you were still here you would notice the red star too.
There were too many stars tonight, and not enough people to see them.
Pairing: Hunter (TBB) x Jedi!Fem!Reader
Summary: After Hunter's chip is removed, he realises what he has done to you.
Word Count: 2.4K
Warnings: angst, descriptions of injury, not proofread sorry
Were you dead? Honestly, you couldn’t tell. There was a long, long moment where you couldn’t feel anything… you couldn’t see, you couldn’t smell - all your senses had disappeared. You didn’t know how long you had been stuck in the void, it could have been forever or just a few moments, but it felt as if you had never been anywhere else.
The first thing you felt when everything started to clear was the weight of someone’s hand in yours. There was the muffled sound of some sort of machine beeping periodically, and someone talking. It was all hard to work out, though. The constant throbbing of your wounds and the sound of your irregular heartbeat took over everything else.
Instinctively, you squeezed whoever’s hand was in yours, and you swore you could hear a sharp intake of breath over everything else. Your eyes wouldn’t open, so you attempted to delve into the force, ignoring how much it drained your energy to figure out who it was.
“Who’s there?”
Again, you could hear whoever it was speaking to you, but it was all muffled, so you tried to ask through the force again, feeling yourself drifting off into the void again, but you managed to hear their answer before leaving.
“Talk to me through your thoughts… I can hear you.”
“…Mesh’la?”
“Hunter?”
Before she could say anything else, the darkness caught up to her, and she was thrust back into the void.
Third Person POV, Two Weeks Prior
When Hunter had woken up, he groaned at the feeling of bruises all across his body. He felt the familiar texture of the slightly hard mattress of his bunk beneath him, and let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding as he groggily opened his eyes. There was a slight aching in the side of his temple, but other than that he didn’t feel that bad. Something wasn’t fitting right in his heart, though.
“Ah, you’re awake.” The familiar voice of Tech reached Hunter, who sat up slowly on the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad,” Hunter shrugged as he lifted an arm in an attempt to figure out what exactly the weird feeling was in his chest. It was some sort of dull ache, but even as he slowly rubbed at the area through his blacks, he couldn’t seem to make it go away. “What happened?”
Tech stopped suddenly as he turned around to face him. “You don’t… remember?”
“Remember what?” Hunter narrowed his eyes as he dropped his hand and glanced at Echo, Wrecker, and Crosshair, who entered the smaller room all at once. Echo raised an eyebrow, Wrecker crossed his arms, and Crosshair looked snidely in his direction. Hunter frowned. Did he do something? Deciding to change the topic, he coughed to clear his throat. “Where’s Omega?”
The rest of the Batch glanced around, seeming to want to look anywhere but at Hunter. Eventually, Crosshair shook his head in exasperation as he looked Hunter up and down. “She’s with her.” The sharpshooter said in an almost accusing manner. “Di’kut.”
“With her?” Hunter repeated, raising an eyebrow in confusion. “With who? Wh-” All of a sudden Hunter felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over his head as his blood turned cold with realisation. The pain in his chest suddenly burned a thousand times more than it was, and he felt as if his airway was being constricted as his lungs began to starve for air. Everything around him started to blur, including his brothers and the sound of one of their concerned voices as he pushed himself up from his bunk, ignoring the others’ protests as he stumbled his way down the corridor. He heard his brothers telling him to stop, but he couldn’t. His legs were moving on their own to reach you as fast as he could.
When he finally skidded into the med-bay, his heart nearly stopped all over again when he say you. You were deathly pale, cheeks slightly hollowed in and you arms falling limp at either side of your body. There was a new scar across one of your cheeks, that he knew he had caused. The only indication that you were still alive was the screen monitoring your heartbeat, and even that line was barely moving.
He felt like time had stopped around him as the thumping of his heartbeat and a slight muffled ringing began to fill his ears, everything stopping until a sudden blur of movement pulled his attention from you.
When Omega turned and spotted him, she didn’t even look remotely happy. Instead, she quickly reached down to the ground next to her and picked up the Zygerrian energy bow that she had stolen, drawing back a bolt and aiming directly at him. Hunter slowly put his hands up, chest heaving as Omega’s words swam through the sea of his panic and despair to be comprehended in his brain.
“I won’t let you hurt her again.”
Again.
Hunter felt that delicate thing that had been pounding against his chest suddenly snap as he saw the resolve on his blonde sister’s face. His eyes flickered back to your unmoving body and before he had to tear his eyes away and meet Omega’s amber ones.
“I-” Hunter croaked pleadingly. “Omega-”
“Omega, it’s okay,” Tech and the rest of the Batch finally made it to the med-bay. And Hunter felt a hand on his shoulder, probably Wrecker. “He’s safe.” Slowly, Omega lowered her bow and dropped it to the floor with a clatter as she bolted up to him, wrapping her arms around his legs and crushing them so tightly Hunter thought he was going to fall over. However, Hunter slowly bent down to wrap his arms around her, mumbling an endless stream of apologies as his regret and fear threatened to overwhelm him.
“I’m sorry kid,” he sighed, his eyes darting all over the room as he willed them to land anywhere but where you where. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” Omega told him fiercely, “It’s the Empire’s.” Hunter felt a shiver run down his spine at the mention of the name. There was a quiet silence that was only filled by the shuffling of his brothers as they slowly backed out of the room, opting to give Hunter privacy with Omega and you. “I… you weren’t here. For a while. And someone had to watch over her.” Omega slowly let go of Hunter as she turned back to you. “You weren’t there,” Omega repeated, “so I did what you would do.” She gestured for him to sit down in the chair beside your bed.
Hunter swallowed a lump in his throat as he sat down slowly, not daring to let his hands go where they ached to go. To caress your face, brush his thumb against your cheek. Who knows what his hands would do. “How long has it been?”
“Three standard rotations.” Tech had stepped back into the room, and Hunter felt his head begin to spin. “We’re two thirds of the way to Saleucami.”
“Saleucami?” Hunter questioned, his eyes never leaving your face.
“Rex has a secret base there,” Tech answered. “It has the medical supplies adequate to heal our sarad’s injuries. A bacta tank, that is.” There was a pause before Tech sighed. “Normal stab wounds would only require a bacta patch, but hers were… deeper than usual. And the location of the wounds-”
“I know where I stabbed her.”
For the next three rotations, Hunter didn’t leave your side, waiting anxiously for any sign of your awakening (because you had to wake up… you just had to). He slept in that uncomfortable chair, that was just a tad too small because it was Omega’s, but he refused to move. Even if his siblings offered to take his seat he just shook his head. Omega and Echo took turns bringing him ration packets three times a rotation, but he barely noticed himself eating it as he felt his gaze unable to be torn away from you.
When they had landed on Saleucami, Rex greeted them shortly before rushing over to your bed and, with the held of Wrecker, carried your limp form to the medical facility in a rush. Hunter trailed almost as lifelessly as you behind them, and jumped when he felt Rex’s hand on his shoulder.
“The General’s strong,” Rex reassured him. “I fought with her on the battlefield for years and I can assure you it’d take more than a few stab wounds to take her down.” Not where I stabbed her, Hunter thought helplessly to himself. But still, Rex’s comfort was appreciated.
And now Hunter was sitting again in a chair beside you. You had been removed from the Bacta Tank a few hours ago, since your wounds were as healed as they would get. There was still a scar on your stomach, though, and Hunter assumed that there would be another one over your heart as well. He winced at the thought - another reminder of what he did to you.
He had one hand in your limp one since he had to know you were still there. He didn’t trust the machinery hooked up to you as much as he trusted his own senses… if there was one thing he still trusted about himself, it would be his enhanced senses. The dull, but still constant beating of your heart beneath your skin was enough to keep him sane for now.
Until his heart jumped painfully against his chest when he felt it.
No. It couldn’t be. He had to be hallucinating.
But there it was
“Who’s there?”
Hunter swallowed a lump in his throat as he tried to talk to you. “Cyare?” There was no response, and as he waited for your hand to squeeze his again he felt himself slowly begin to deflate. Maybe he had gone insane and was imagining things-
“Talk to me through your thoughts… I can hear you.”
“…Mesh’la?”
“Hunter?”
Hunter nearly wept in joy as he tightened his grip around your hand.
“I’m right here, Mesh’la. I’m right here.” Hunter didn’t know if he was comforting or pleading you, but another response never came. Maybe he had imagined it after all.
…
Later, when the sun had just begun to rise, you finally stirred, the dull ache in your chest a painful reminder of the encounter. Hunter was awake, too, sitting up on his cot across from you, hands clenched in his lap. He looked weary, his amber eyes clouded with regret as he watched you.
Your heart sank. Hunter.
His hair was disheveled, longer than you had seen it, and his bandana missing. His armor had been swapped for simple fatigues. He looked vulnerable in a way you’d never seen before.
"Hunter," you croaked, your voice weak. He shot up from his chair, a mixture of relief and anguish crossing his face.
"Hi," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "You’re awake." His hand hovered over yours for a moment before he finally took it gently. "We didn’t know if you’d..." His words trailed off, and he shook his head as if trying to banish the thought. “Bacta tank.” He gestured vaguely. “You… I…” He shook his head as he buried his face in his hands. “My words aren’t coming out right.” You laughed a little, trying to shake off the awkwardness and severity of the situation before wincing as the ache in your chest increased tenfold.
"You got me good," you murmured, attempting a smile despite the pain. You raised a hand to your chest, feeling the bandages beneath your gown. "Twice."
Hunter winced, his jaw tightening. "I wasn’t... myself." He looked away, guilt written all over his face. "When I woke up, I saw what I did . I almost—" His voice cracked, and he dropped his head, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. "I don’t know how I can ever make up for it."
“You don’t have to make up for anything. You weren’t in control," you said firmly, summoning what strength you could. "That wasn’t you, Hunter. It was that stupid inhibitor chip." You squeezed his hand, drawing his gaze back to you. "And… you’re here now. That’s what matters."
For a moment, he didn’t respond, his expression unreadable. Then he let out a shaky breath and nodded, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "You should never have come after me," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You put yourself in danger for me.”
“And I’d do it again-”
“Why?” Hunter demanded. “Why do this to yourself? You knew I wasn’t in control and that I wouldn’t hold back from hurting you. Why?”
Your lips curved into a faint smile despite the heaviness in your chest. "Because you’re home. And I wasn’t going to let the Empire take you away from us. From me."
Hunter's breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at you, as if trying to process your words. Slowly, he sank back into his chair, his head bowing forward until his forehead rested against your hand. His broad shoulders trembled, and you realized he was crying.
"Mesh’la," he murmured, the Mandalorian word falling from his lips like a prayer. "You almost died... for me. How can I—?"
"You can start by staying," you interrupted softly, your fingers brushing against his hair. "By letting yourself believe that you’re worth saving. Because you are, Hunter. To me, to Omega, to the Batch. You’re worth everything."
Hunter looked up at you then, his amber eyes glassy but filled with something that hadn’t been there before—hope. He nodded slowly, his hand never leaving yours.
"I’ll stay," he said quietly. "Of course I’ll stay for you. For all of you." His voice steadied, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light. "But you have to promise me something, too."
"What’s that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Promise me you won’t do something like that again," he said, a faint, broken smile tugging at his lips. "I can’t lose you, cyar’ika. Not like that."
You managed a weak laugh, though it hurt to do so. "No promises," you teased, earning a soft chuckle from him in return.
Hunter leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours gently. The warmth of the gesture seeped into you, soothing the lingering aches in your body. "I remember what you said that night.” Hunter whispered lowly, and you swear you could hear your heart speed up. Was he really… did he really-
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum," he murmured, his voice low and steady.
There was a light pause before you smiled at him, and replied. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.
It was Hunter and you against the galaxy.
I've known it from the very start
We're a shot in the darkest dark...
- Say Don't Go (Taylor Swift)
end
xx dreamtheatre
requests are open (please request im bored)
