For clarification, the last comic was just a joke Over been planning since August :3 Perhaps I will draw more tiny Leo comics in the future tho cause he's really fun to draw <3
( I hate April fools day cause I'm.extremely gullible, but I thought this would be funny and I was correct it was great )
A/n: sorry for another delay. Hope you enjoy. More doctor fuckery and allusions to the doctors current devolution. Yay I hope you enjoy yayyy.
What were these truths the Doctor was talking about? At least he was being honest! A damn shame to your overloaded brain, but you appreciated it nonetheless. Maybe you would bring yourself to honestly about your profession after. Maybe. You’d have to test the waters and go off what tonight’s surprise was.
Your heart slammed itself into it's cage.
The next few hours were hell on Earth. What was this secret he was going to reveal?
You always dealt with waiting so poorly…
You got through your final tutoring via the university without nary a hiccup, but your brain combed through all the possibilities you could scrounge from sci-fi shows. What was that one nearly-sixty years old program that the BBC had?
Too late now…
You did sneak home to change into something that didn’t scream ‘lazy’.
Soon it was nearly nine. As you walked to his office, you felt like you were at a wall, breathing your last free breaths before the firing squad came upon you. You worked on your breathing exercises as you went to knock the door.
He was there, illuminated softy. Grey hair fluffed, in a burgundy shirt and hoodie. He looked utterly (and unfairly!) Breath-taking. You felt both underdressed and overdressed.
“Good evening!” He smiled, it was one of those easy, unnerving, comfortable smiles that framed his eyes so well.
“Hey.” Was the best you could muster. Your vocabulary stolen from your tongue as easily as the breath from your lungs over him…
How could someone who was quite literally older than the rededication of the Second Temple look so good?
Alien magic, must be.
“You remember that Missy character?”
“Yeah, her? Them?” You struggled.
“Her.”
“Ah.”
“She’s been on her best behavior. Stunning, really.”
“And?”
“I think you two need to meet. I’ve cleared the idea with her other…Guardian.”
“Oh?”
“Nardole…he’s an egg. I sent him to Norwich for a packet of crisps.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” It didn’t.
You rubbed your lip together in a partial move to rip the skin off, but also to provide some sort of outlet for the nervousness that was still coming up from the pit of your stomach.
What was Missy?
He offered the crook of his arm, “Shall we go?”
You took it.
The walk was nice, silent. The weather was warming up nicely. Mild night.
Soon you went to a place obscured in some hardly-looked after corner in the university’s basement. He pressed some hidden point and the wall snapped in two, revealing some contraption. He unhooked himself from you and started entering codes, some little monitor popped up and scanned his eye.
It asked for a verbal confirmation.
He spoke in some language that made your blood run cold and you feel small. Something about it was haunting. Like singing.
It unveiled another wall with a turn-lock, from which he produced a key and unlocked it.
Finally, it seemed safe to part through.
“What did she do?” You asked, voice husky with fear.
“Enough.” He let a little snort escape.
You nodded and went in.
It was a grand room, a couple of old, antique chairs and some meager side tables faced what was a mighty cage! It looked like glass, on the platform. Inside this guided cage was a woman, in simple Victorian clothes.
She played piano very gently.
“Missy.” The Doctor seemingly pleaded.
The woman inside slammed the lid shut and turned around.
She had the most insane, yet oddly lovely smile. Cat-like.
She was thin.
“Oh…you’ve brought me a plaything?” She grinned.
Her accent sounded Scottish. Like the Doctor.
“Do all aliens sound like Scotsmen?” You blurted out before you could monitor your thoughts.
“I’m sorry!” You amended.
She laughed, it sounded like bells.
“One would certainly hope so!” She responded.
“I’m Missy! Short for Mistress!”
“Oh, I’m (y/n).”
She shot the Doctor some look. He shot her another look. It seemed they were having an entire conversation without you. You felt alienated. You looked between them.
“I’ve heard nothing but good. Typical!” She approached you at the edge of her enclosure. You felt caged. Missy stalked you as if she were a lioness and you were some disabled, freshly birthed gazelle. You started sweating, it dewed down your back.
“Oh!”
“My best enemy.” He elaborated.
You nodded more, at a total loss for words. Your breathing became manual.
“So what did you do?”
“Oh, this girlie is rude! I love it!” She shot the Doctor another look.
“Don’t talk behind my back?” You assumed.
Missy nearly fell over! She started laughing, “Rude and clever! He’s certainly taught you well.”
Your eyes could have shot out of their sockets.
“You’re like Jedi, yeah? Can communicate with your brains?” You explained.
“Sure enough? Jedi are the Lego ones?” the Doctor asked.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy her.” Missy predated you more. Nose pressed against her enclosure.
You got the briefest of synopsis of their entire relationship. You felt yourself blinking from your brain overloading. It felt like someone dumped out your mind and shook the contents up before tossing it all back in, haphazardly.
You swallowed heavily.
“So Time Lords. Do you all have such…intense names? Mistress, Doctor? So is there a Bachelor?” You felt your arms move as if to elaborate this point.
“Different generations have different naming convention. My brother is Irving Braxiatel.”
“Of course. Makes sense. My name’s (y/n) but now all the kids are McKinsleigh or Harley or whatever.”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, my dear Doctor, you have a smart one on your hands. Now how do you like the stars, kiddo?”
You shook your head quickly. “Nope, no stars for me. I’m not going up there. Nope. I know what happens! I’m genre aware. I know what goes down in space. And if you’ve had a lot of dead companions previously…not me. I am not that suicidal!” You felt like a horizontal bobble head of sorts.
“See!” She slapped her thigh. “This one’s got common sense! She’s not going to swan off and get herself killed by a giant bird!”
It seemingly touched a tender point.
“Oh, here you go, bringing up Clara! What’s with you?” He seemed on the verge of spitting. “We’re having such a normal time!”
“Oh, she was my manic pixie dream bitch too!” Missy countered, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary.
You made several notes to bring up later when you were going to bring up some new ground rules for this relationship, if this Missy didn’t tear you to shreds and eat your entrails like a tin of tuna.
The cat metaphors kept coming…
Were Time Lords cats?
No! Cats have barbed penises and that Time Lord you were fond of didn’t…
“May I get a tuba now?” Missy pleaded.
“We’ll see.”
You found yourself fiddling with your necklaces in a very rapid way with one hand. The other twisting the massive gold hoop in your one ear. Nervous habits coming in strong to help you self-soothe in this inopportune moment…
Somewhere the Doctor produced a flask of tea and poured some out, it was herbal. At the moment you couldn’t discern much more than that.
He gave it to all, including Missy, who’s barrier seemed penetrable to him, but not her. As she touched it and it repelled her.
Where did he pull out all these things?
What was the barrier made of? Did it work on genes?
Your mind roared for an explanation.
You reminded yourself to take it in strive. You weren’t working with logic and sanity anymore. You were in some contrived sci-fi story now.
It was the only way that you’d survive this!
Missy asked you something pleasantries involving your studies, and you divulged your grand plans.
“Oh, not overly ambitious. No martyr complex. Doctor this one may survive you.” Her focus splintered.
You felt out of your depth even more. You were taking it in stride, but that felt like it was lacking. Although…an opportunity did arise.
Did you have the guts to take it?
You pondered on. If it did turn nasty, you were outnumbered. Two of these so called ’Time Lords’. One you. One very mortal and squishy you.
Missy seemed to know far more than she probably should. You craved a bit more knowledge.
Shouldn’t you be privy to details about the man you’ve been not only fucking, but falling madly under his spell? And dare you utter it- loved?
“So what’s the deal with you Time Lords?” You asked Missy.
“An ancient race. We’re the pinnacle of evolution. Very few races will or ever will get close. Some have tried, they fail to become as optimized.”
“A bit eugenics-y.” You responded, your brows knitted together.
“Funny collars.” The Doctor chimed in. “That’s the opposite of optimized.”
“Oh, Mister President! How salacious!” She cooed in his general direction.
“President?” Your eyes boggled from their sockets.
“Technically. I’m also the De Facto President of Earth in an emergency. Neither here nor there…”
“And he’s ever so humble! My dear, Doctor. If this were two bodies ago you’d be preening!”
You looked down and blinked hard, as you started to chew on the inside of your cheek.
“Oh, him? Yeah, I was a but more vain. I mean, how could I not? All youth and fire and forged from Rose’s love.”
“And who the hell is Rose?” Your jealousy creeping back in.
“Oh, Doctor! You dog! She was very blonde! Broke many universes trying to find him again!” Missy gaped, as if she had personally sprung this trap.
“She helped me. I was raw from the War. She saw my hearts and that’s all.” The explanation was clearly him trying to not irk any jealousy in you.
“She got a wee clone! They’re in a parallel universe!” Missy simmered up, swinging around on her ankles.
“You are annoying.”
“You could have let Torvic kill me!” She put her hands on her hips and pulled a sour face.
“I’m sorry, who’s Torvic?” You were being bombarded with more information than you could handle.
“I was a soft lad. This kid kept bullying me. He was going to kill me, but here does come ikkle little Doctor with a rock! Bye bye Torvic!” She announced it like she was a wrestling presenter.
“How old were…you all?”
“Ten!” Missy clapped her hands together.
“Death’s champion!” She elaborated with a sick glee, pointing at the Doctor.
“I’m assuming you can…change sexes.” You kept piecing it together. “Were you ever a woman?”
“Maybe next go!” The Doctor said.
You leaned down and rested your fingers on your jaw as if to keep it from falling off onto the ground.
“So…how does that all work?”
“Two hearts, they prevent death and kick in our ancient rights!” Missy flourished.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that.” The Doctor stepped in. “We get a new face, new body. New chances. We keep our core. But everything from our personality to our kidneys.”
You inhaled.
“Anything else I need to know…assuming that you do that in front of me.” You curbed your attention to the Doctor. You wanted answers and you didn’t want him to give up this particular body. You didn’t want to play this particular game of Russian Roulette. His body right now was perfect…from his hair to his toes. Like it was personally designed to drive you mad. A sexy, silver fox with dynamic light eyes and a smile that robbed you of the ability to breathe, plus that voice like was a good motorcycle engine. And, a perfect package that hit right in the right spots…
You were objectifying an immortal alien.
What had your life become?
“That shit’s…crazy.” You gave an exceedingly reductive statement.
“No promises, but I’ll try.” He gave you a small, reassuring smile…
“Before precious Rose, there was his wife, that Scottish lad, that journalist Sarah Jane Smith, me, that ginger twink who’s name escapes me and probably a few I’m forgetting! And after there was-” Missy smiled a positively evil grin.
You put your hand up and stopped her from going into any more detail.
“Sarah Jane Smith? The mega-journo who always had the hottest stories? The one who was always leaking the top bylines?” You instinctively tore off your thumb nail.
You kept putting your hands up and down. Going to point a finger. You felt like a malfunctioning kettle.
“W-w-what? Do you…see in me?” You raised both of your hands up as you shrugged and struggled. “Universe traveling blondes? Award-winning journalists? A ginger twink? This jailbird?” You voice scaling up octaves to those only dogs could hear as you slapped your hands over your thighs and grasped them tightly…
You started those dratted breathing exercises and placed your right hand on your only heart.
The Doctor seemed to be sorting through some sort of dilemma in his mind.
“Yeah, tell her!” Missy cheered.
You shot her a murderous glare.
She scrunched her nose and stuck out her tongue.
“I see you as warmth. You are yourself. I see you as someone who’s good. Despite it all. A good student and a great partner. Someone to enjoy while I can. Nothing to complicate or drag into danger.”
Something about these words and his gaze into you had you fighting these words, but becoming placated by them. They were like a cozy quilt on your worries…
“I’ve put others I loved in danger. Learned those lessons. Never again.”
You felt your mind slowing down from the anger and self-doubt.
It felt like truthfulness. You’d take truthfulness.
The looks that Missy and the Doctor passed between each other has you shiver in fear.
You felt like you needed to vomit.
“Can I go home now?” You squeaked out once you felt a but more emotionally regulated.
“Of course.” He helped you up and turned to Missy, “No tuba.” He told her.
She raged on a bit as you felt yourself being tucked into his side and escorted out.
You leaned against a wall as he locked the Vault up.
He folded you under his arm.
“So what do you think of my best enemy?”
You felt yourself feeling suddenly very sleepy and like you had been dreaming. You were very conflicted and of many minds. You would have to work through all this later. There was just so much information and new thoughts that needed evaluated. Though you felt something holding you back from it. The emotional toll of the past few days, inevitably catching up to you.
What was that something was holding you back?
Probably your love of the Doctor.
You felt yourself crying.
“Why don’t I walk you to your flat? What’s the address?” He wiped your face with some old-fashioned looking hankie.
You gave him your address. It was a longer walk, but maybe it would do you good.
You started to walk. It was going somewhat smoothly.
After a silent walk, you stated as you got closer to the safety of your home. “I think she’s insane. Probably it’s for the best she’s in that…situation. Like sectioning, but worse? She could be fun, if she tried. I feel…yeah. I mean, if you’re a package deal. A bit weird she’s your ex. But yeah.” You answered his previous question.
“Is she a threat? To me?” You asked, jealously.
“No, we’re finished. Ancient news far older than your civilization…”
“Ah, okay.” You felt more satisfied.
“She is quite…pretty.” You remarked.
“Hadn’t noticed.”
You nodded, as you arrived to the front door.
“This is me.” You pointed. “You…want to come up? Get a night cap. I know I’m going to need it.” You joked, as you used your pinky nail to scratch the bridge of your nose.
“Not tonight. How about after you finish exams? I still have to some things done in that regards.”
“Valid.”
He leaned down and pressed hip lips to your forehead.
“Good-night, (y/n).” He smiled as he closed his hand over yours and gave it a squeeze.
“Good-night, Doctor.” It still felt strange to not call him ‘Professor’. You didn’t know how to feel. Calling him ‘Professor’ felt better coming off your tongue.
So much to over-analyze.
You opened the door and went up to your flat. After pouring yourself a large shot of vodka to take, you laid on your favorite chair and zoned out.
Also, like, Pope would be the most skilled out of them all to handle drunk reader. Don’t even argue with me on this.
Like Fish’s sweet and fine and caring but he’s seen to much with shit faced Benny/Pope to get worry? about you? which results in him mainly replying with “Ah, they’ll be alright” to almost every situation ever.
And Will, although trying his hardest to stay away from your sick self as much as possible, would of course feel obliged to help you get through the night and into bed without hurting yourself or anyone around you but he’d do so with the most grim expression ever and you can be dead sure he’ll hold that over your head for the next 4-5 years.
And Ben ... well, Ben would try for 0.25 seconds before deciding that it’s way funnier to watch you struggle and mostly can’t help you anyway bc, you guessed it, he’s just as drunk. Also, Ben’s not really the most patient when it comes to ppl in general and drunken ppl are just a whole other level on annoying.
But Pope, oh, this is his moment to shine. Whatever you’re going through rn, chances are he’s been there, done that or at least has someone helped through a similar time of crisis and is more than calm and ready, altho amused, to help you get yourself together. He’d be so patient with you and your rambling and stumbling over both your words and feet and so forgiving when you’d cry on his shirt or ask him to pull over bc you have to throw up again and once you both made the journey home he’d be damn sure to get you a glass of water and some pills for the next morning for your headache, tucking you in once he’s changed you out of your old clothes and thrown your hair up in a make shift bun (he’s also one of Maria’s fav uncles to do her hair, thank you very much) and he’d just be the sweetest ever, don’t ask me why I thought about that.
