the impossible girl

I'm still not sure. |Amelia and Clara|

[Amelia could see Clara’s face cycling through a range of different expressions, clearly she was thinking about something. Ami had considered asking Clara about what she was thinking about, but decided against it as she thought Clara may think she was prying. It probably wasn’t any of her business anyway. She did enjoy Clara’s company however, it was nice to have the company of somebody else who had been through something similar to herself. Her eyes widened at what Clara brought up.] Um. [She blushed deeper.] There might be. [Ami smiled widely, feeling the dimples in her cheeks come out, like they always had when she smiled too widely.] Is that a new phone? [She raised an eyebrow, before remembering what had happened to the last one.] Oh yeah, I forgot.

#i'm still not sure #amelia x clara #itsyouramelia

There is a boy! You just blushed. You like him. [Clara teased her, completely taking pleasure in this. She couldn't help the smug grin on her face as Amelia seemed to try and not make it a big deal or anything.] You have to tell me everything. When did you meet him? [She opened the car door and slid into the seat, making room for Amelia to come in.]

annafallenbutnotbroken-deactiva

[Anna nodded] That is one way to end up here [She smiled slightly] But I swear I saw you before, I have been watching earth so long and if I was not wrong I have seen you plenty of times in every century. [She shook her head] I could be mistaking.

#annafallenbutnotbroken #anna x clara

[Clara paused at her words, looking at the angel. There was really no point in lying to her, Clara thought.] No, no you're actually right. I, well, I was sort of shattered into a million pieces, a million versions of myself, across time and space?

lady-of-victory

A Mother's Pain || Open

lady-of-victory

Sigyn listened to her story, her attention rapt. She breathed a noise of amazement, “That’s just like the old stories,” she smiled a little, “One of the nice ones,” she added, feeling a little reminiscent of the good memories she did have.

It was nice to hear about other people rather than talk about herself. Sigyn felt a bit that she had been ego-centric lately when she had always been hesitant to talk about herself. Most gods tended to be wrapped up in their own drama, Sigyn had been one of the exceptions. She preferred dealing with other people’s problems rather than her own. (perhaps that was why she was so popular in her youth)

She adjusted her long white braid to her other shoulder, “I’m afraid that’s what most gods are after,” she admitted, seeing no reason to give Clara a false sense of security, in case she ran into other gods, ” Souls, people’s faith, or human sacrifice… it gives them power and makes them feel like… well… gods, or at least more powerful verisons. The gods don’t remember the old ways, that there are other ways to gather power. It doesn’t have to be through blood…” Sigyn sighed, finishing her rant with a sigh of defeat.

"The leaf though… that’s really interesting. I’ve never heard of anything like that," she leaned her round cheek against her palm in thought. She sensed somewhere that it was very special and that she shouldn’t press. But Sigyn’s notorious curiosity got the better of her, "Where did you get it?" She couldn’t help but ask, as she tried to figure out what this mortal meant by a leaf with unlived days. It was strange magic, not unheard of, but strange.

#WHAT? NO IT WAS GOOD #your replies are always wonderful #meanwhile MINE SUCKS AND I APOLOGIZE FOR TAKING SO LONG #lady-of-victory #clara x sigyn

"It's sad to hear that it mostly ends up that way. What are the other ways?" She couldn't help but be curious about it. This goddess, Sigyn, she must have remembered the old ways. It was never fair that the angriest, blood thirsty ones ever seemed to get remembered. Remembered and feared, the latter was a big portion of the reasoning of being remembered.

Her gaze dropped for a moment when Sigyn asked where she had gotten the leaf. "From here. It blew into my dad's face... a long time ago. It blinded him and he stumbled into the street. If it wasn't for my mother grabbing him, he would have been hit by a car." A small smile appeared on her lips as she began to recite the story for her. "It was the first time they ever met. They dated, and got married, and they kept the leaf as a symbol. My mother, she always wanted to travel, and she placed the leaf in my book." She looked over at her. "That leaf could have blew anywhere, but it didn't. It just happened to land on his face. It's our... my family's history."

lost-rose-tyler

And a very confused Doctor.

#gif #graphic #clara oswin oswald #the doctor #eleven #the snowmen #echo clara #echos #me #clara oswald #whouffle

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"Oi! You can’t say that, just go off sayin’ what’s cool and all—" He teased, taking a glance back up at her from his spot with the book. Sure, he did the same, but he was allowed. Maybe not for any particular reason, but there was a logic somewhere amongst the time stream in his head. "—I suppose I could try, though. But let’s not go off betting th’universe all willy-nilly on baking contests just t’see that happen, alright?"

He tossed the idea of telling her that he’d been the man on those swings that day, long before they’d properly met at her doorstep years later. After all, now that everything was out in the open between the two of them… “Well, that fool in the swings…” He stepped over to her briefly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You certainly helped him find what he was looking for. Good advice. Find a quiet place. Though next time, recommend not doing the monk thing. Monks aren’t cool.”

Without another word, he continued reading, eyes focused on the story Amy had been weaving through something simple as a foreword. A woman, watching her. Watching…after her.

‘So, Doctor, get ready to look up. She is waiting for you. She’s been waiting a long time. And if you do see a woman, just watching you, then that means trouble’s not far behind her.

But, just before you look up, I’ll pass on her message.

"Run, you clever boy and remember…”

His eyes immediately shot up as he dropped the book onto the counter, looking at Clara for only a moment before assuring himself she’d put everything down onto some sort of flat surface before wrapping his arms around her protectively, hearts pounding.

#We're all stories in the end #secretsprotectus #para #eleven x clara

"You're the one to talk!" She couldn't help but laugh at him, shaking her head. It did seem somewhat right though, him getting to call the shots on what was cool or not. Granted, there were some things that were mistaken by him as cool, like fezzes for example. "Alright, no more betting on bake-offs." She held her hands up jokingly for a moment, glancing down at the rest of the mess. She'd clean it up, it wouldn't take her too long, but she always waited to clean up (though she tended to be neat while she cooked) after she popped the batter into the oven.

His next words were surprising, and after he had kissed her temple, she gave him a curious look. She didn't remember the memory all too well, it was just a story that had been told her a few times by her mother. Still to this day, if she ever lost something (which she remembered only when he mentioned finding what he was searching for), she went to a quiet place to think. His comment about the monks connected the rest of the dots in her head. The thing that he had been looking for; it was her.

She couldn't help the small smile that managed to stretch across her lips. That had to be some kind of sign. He was searching for her, and the universe had seemingly brought them together though neither of them hadn't known that it had. She dropped her hands which she was playing with her necklace when the oven beeped. Turning, she reached for the pan and paused when she saw the Doctor drop the book on the counter and turn to her.

"Doc—?" She was taken by surprise when his arms wrapped around her in a way she hadn't quite felt in awhile. His words, under my protection, came up briefly in her mind. Without a second thought, she put her arms around him. "Is everything okay? Is she okay?" She asked carefully, pulling back slightly after a moment, searching his face.

I'm still not sure. |Amelia and Clara|

Yeah, I suppose it is, but I guess I’d just never thought about it that way before now. [She smiled weakly, wanting to laugh at herself but deciding against it. She thought about Clara’s question for a moment before nodding to herself.] I guess, if you’d asked me a few months ago, I would have said yes. You know, to be back with my friends. But now that I’ve met so many new people, made so many new friends, and- [She bit her lip, blushing as Daniel crossed her mind.] -other people. [She giggled.] Yes, we should, I mean, I guess we wont be fit for driving by the end of the night.

#i'm still not sure #amelia x clara #itsyouramelia

[Clara couldn't help but feel guilty when she heard Ami tell her that she probably wouldn't want to go home. She would hate to lose such a good friend, and one she could talk to about especially about the strange happenings going on around London. She always had the Doctor, but it was nice to have a girl to confide in too. Clara was about to tell her that she'd be more than a little sad if the time ever came that she'd have to go when she caught Amelia's blush.] Other people? There's a boy, isn't there? [Clara pulled out her phone, which she had to bribe away from Angie ever since the accident. If there was a time for the TARDIS, it was now. Angie could definitely use a new phone.]

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"I don’t think I’d be that miserable. Could talk my way out of it, you never know.”

There was this thing, this sweet little thing about Clara that’d always been there, every incarnation that he’d met of her, that she’d always managed to be there by his side and support him without just…falling to the side. She’d saved him, held her own, and held him up, too. Particularly when he’d needed it the most. Every moment of his life when he’d been falling apart, there was Clara; going through the thick of it without another word. And he knew the side effects didn’t miss her, didn’t pass her by as a favor for saving him. She hurt, too.

His head turned to glance at her at her offer. You make everything better, his eyes said, his lips curving into the smallest smile. “I’d like that,” He said softly, eyes lazily meeting the first page of filler in the Foreword Amy’d penned out decades ago. “She always did have a thing for imagination,” The Doctor muttered, his tone pained but…oddly optimistic and nostalgic.

His eyes didn’t leave the page as she moved over to continue mixing whatever he’d thrown into the bowl—he could hardly recall. “It just looks like a…a bit of filler,” He sighed, flipping to the next page, spectacled eyes going line after line. “Sometimes it’s…nice to chat with a bloke on the swings. Maybe he needed’t,” He continued to murmur, his words stopping as the tone of Amy’s Foreward changed, addressing him. "I think I’m meant to, too."

#We're all stories in the end #secretsprotectus #clara x eleven

"If anyone could talk their way out of a bake-off to save the universe, it'd be you. However, it'd be much cooler if a soufflé saved the universe instead." She said with a teasing smile, lifting the spoon up to give herself a tiny taste of what he had accomplished so far. It tasted spot on delicious at least, which was a nice surprise. Perhaps he could manage a bake-off if he wanted.

She continued to mix the batter as he muttered after her about the book. She had never looked at the foreward before, and she honestly hadn't really had a reason to. She had briefly scanned over the first few sentences thanking everyone who had been a part of her book. She gave him a look about the man on the swings. "I suppose so. I don't really remember it." She shrugged lightly.

The moment he said that perhaps he was meant to read it, she looked up at him curiously. Maybe she should have taken the time to read it, but even if she had read it before she had known the Doctor, she was sure she would have understood nothing. She was tempted to ask him what he had found, but she decided against it. She moved from the counter and collected a pan to pour the mixture into. On her way back to the counter, she went ahead and flipped the oven on. The batter poured smoothly and evenly into the pan, and with a satisfied smile, she glanced back over at the Doctor.

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"Very true, very true," He agreed with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "I s’pose you’ll have to make some poor attempt to remedy whatever disaster I may have started to cause with all of this. I hope you’re prepared, because I’m a bit knackered."

Carefully, he brought his thumb to run over the name once more, just making sure that it said precisely what he’d thought it did and that he wasn’t once more thinking up that he’d found another connection to her. But it was there, clear as day, causing the time lord to quickly reach onto the counter, slipping his old companion’s glasses on as he flipped the raggedy—his lips curved into a smile—book in his hands. He squeezed Clara’s hand back gently, finally making eye contact with her once more, a small sparkle in his eyes from the beginnings of tears just barely noticeable.

"She was a friend of mine. Very good friend of mine. I…I traveled with her and her husband a very long time, actually." He cleared his throat, thumb running over the edge of the pages, flipping them by. "First face this face saw. Had just lost her when you happened upon me in Victorian London—well, not just, nearly a century, but… That’s…cloud.” His words trailed off, not completely wanting to admit to her or himself that he’d isolated himself for about a hundred years after he’d lost the Ponds.

#we're all stories in the end #secretsprotectus #eleven x clara #para

"Let's hope you don't end up being put into a bake-off to save the universe." She grinned.

When he squeezed her hand, she gave him a tiny smile. She was going to be there for him as much as she could be. It was amazing how much a touch could do. The gentlest hand squeeze could communicate so much between them. Ever since Trenzalore, every time he touched her it felt as if her skin was on fire. It was like all her nerve endings lit up and it seemed as if she had been waiting for a hand to intertwine with hers just perfectly all her life.

She did not miss the beginnings of tears, she had always been observant, and she listened quietly as she flipped through the pages. She knew what it was like to lose someone, and she had come to understand that she wasn't the first to ever travel with him. She had lost one though, and she couldn't imagine what it was like to lose as much as he had. "You should keep it." She finally said, reaching out and touching his arm. "You should read it. It's a wonderful story. They're all quite good."

She glanced over at the mixture again, putting the mixing spoon in it to start blending it again. "I think you're meant to at least read it. I wasn't suppose to get anything that day I found it. I was in trouble for talking to a stranger on the swings. I was suppose to stay with my mum in the flower shop, but I ended up wandering into this book shop instead. I found it at the back underneath all these discarded books, my mum said I was covered in dust. She said I wouldn't let it go, and the lady let me have it for free."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

"Well, sure, but…” His voice trailed off as his listened to her reminisce about her mother, completely positive his experiments wouldn’t end nearly as well. But he was more than confident that Ellie Oswald knew what she was doing, so he smiled just the same. “Don’t think a lack of patience’s gonna help me in baking. Baking’s all ‘bout patience.”

He gave her something of a cheeky grin as her mind wandered for a moment at his words, snapping back into reality as she brought up a character in a book. The man was about to say something about a number of characters that were him (or his companions, etc.) before she put the book in his hands, his frame shuddering at the familiar face on the cover. But then, his hearts stopped. Because the author’s name was even more familiar; as many times as he’d claimed she’d always be a Pond, there was no doubt that this was his. His Amelia. Summer Falls and Other Stories. Foreword Amelia Williams. “Yes,” He managed to whisper softly, bringing the book a little closer to his face, not sure if he wanted to open it or not. “Yes, I do.”

#secretsprotectus #we're all stories in the end #eleven x clara

"Yeah. Definitely not going to help. That's why I'm the baker." She said with a wink, looking at the measuring cups and spoons he had already used to gauge what he had already put into the mixture.

She had been expecting some funny tale to come out of his mouth that got him excited. Something that animated him and made him move about and make his hands fly about. Something that would make his beautiful green eyes twinkle mischievously and that smile stretch across his face. Perhaps she'd even see him straighten his bowtie while he talked, something that she had found herself missing as he wore different clothes. Instead, it seemed to do quite the opposite.

The slight smile on her face had vanished, and she watched him softly. "Doctor?" Her own voice was soft as well, her hand reaching and touching the top of his hand gently.

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

His hold on her tightened in a protective sort of a way as she leaned into him, the time lord trying to keep himself as casual as he possibly could. Cinnamon buns, he mentally noted, recalling a lovely place in Paris in the early 20th century that made them fresh at the crack of dawn he’d have to take her. “Not exactly,” He admitted, eyes giving a small glare to the oven. “I wasn’t completely sure I’d gotten everything in the bowl properly, and I’d feel obligated to put it in once the oven was ready.” He was the impatient type, that was for sure.

The Doctor’s curiosity grew at Clara’s rambling about what she needed to speak to him about, his eyes once more falling on the book in her arms as she brought it up. “Oh, there’re plenty of things you think are fake or fictional that’re real. You’re more than welcome to ask.”

#we're all stories in the end #secretsprotectus #para #eleven x clara

She couldn't help but laugh at his comment. "That's the thing about baking. Nothing has to be perfect. My mum, I don't ever remember her measuring anything she ever put in a bowl. She always just knew how much to put in." A slow smile stretched across her features as the memory of her mother making a soufflé. How she used to watch her as a little girl, eagerly ready to test anything and lick the spoons when she was done. She wouldn't let him quit now though. He had already stirred up something special.

She stared at him for a moment, her mind thinking of all the things that could be actually, properly, real before pushing it to the side with a shake of her head. "There's a character in this book that has to be you." Slowly, she pulled the book from her chest and flipped it over, her fingers running over the cover. "Artie and I had just discussed it right before I met you. You probably remember the girl." She handed it to him. She still didn't care for the image of the girl anymore. "Did you know the author?"

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

His grinned turned into something of a grimace as she stepped into the kitchen. Humans had to sleep. That was a fact. So he hadn’t really been expecting her to come down until much later, during which time he’d manage to clean up the kitchen (and himself, considerably floured in his button-up, vest and bowtie) and make it seem as if the catastrophe hadn’t actually happened, merely leaving a (hopefully) lovely souffle as the only evidence of what had happened there.

"Since never, actually," He admitted, pacing over to her and casually draping an arm around her shoulder lazily. "I was just sort of…throwing things into a bowl based on what you do. Though I added cinnamon, I like cinnamon."(Clara smelled a bit like cinnamon.) His forehead creased slightly in confusion at the look she gave him, however, his eyes trying to decipher it. "Right then, what’m I getting that look for? Have I done something—good or bad, that is. If it’s bad I swear, won’t happen again—if it’s good I’ll make a mental note to certainly do it again.”

#we're all stories in the end #eleven x clara #secretsprotectus

When she felt his arm on her shoulder, she leaned into him. She didn't care if she got flour on her night shirt. "Cinnamon's good, I do enjoy some cinnamon buns." She said with a smile. If she remembered correctly, she had a cinnamon scented candle somewhere in her room. She'd have to light it for him sometime. "Have you preheated the oven yet?" She couldn't help but ask, raising her eyebrows slightly amused at him.

"No, no, you haven't done anything." She told him softly, reaching up and brushing some of the flour off of his cheek. "It's just— something just occurred to me. It might not be important, but I have this feeling that I need to show you. And well, I want to ask because I've read this book a long time ago and I never imagined it could be anything more than fictional." Surely some of it was fiction, but could that character be the Doctor? Anything was quite possible now it seemed.

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

He didn’t sleep. He didn’t sleep, first of all, because time lords hardly had to. Second of all, he didn’t sleep because of some of the things, the dark bits and horrors that came at night during his brief affairs with sleep. Third, he didn’t sleep because there were so many more interesting things to be doing when one was sleeping. Like paint or cook something, or invent a new mode of transportation or read up on how to be a regular, proper boyfriend.

Tonight, he’d defaulted to baking. Or at least, starting the process, pouring together things he’d seen Clara mixing a couple times in their attempts to make a souffle. And, for a man without a recipe, he was very proud about what he’d done, producing a thick (but still liquid) mixture that smelled of some combination of dark chocolate and cinnamon. His eyes darted up, hearing Clara’s voice echoing softly through the hall, poking his head into the living room and grinning at her, trying to see the cover of the book she held against her. “Hello!” He said, quickly lowering his voice. “Sorry, hello—what’s wrong?”

#we're all stories in the end #para #secretsprotectus #clara x eleven

She took another step into the living room, and then she heard something to her left. Turning towards the kitchen, she immediately smiled when she saw him looking into the living room. She pressed the book even tighter against her chest as he asked her what was wrong. Quickly, she shook her head, taking a few steps towards him. "Nothing's wrong. I just—" She stopped talking once she entered the kitchen, seeing the mess of the kitchen.

"Since when did you start baking?" She teased him lightly, looking curiously over into the bowl. The mixture inside was dark, and it smelled fairly enticing. "What are you making?" She didn't see any recipe book lying around. She supposed he could be making something from memory, however, she had never come across an oven in the TARDIS. She could have been hiding it from her for all Clara knew, but he didn't seem like a baker. Turning her eyes on him, she couldn't help but put him against her mental image of what she believed the Curator to look like. However, now it seemed she could only picture him.

brilliantrosetyler

#graphic #photo #the name of the doctor #echos #clara oswald #echo clara #me

total screaming genius, clara oswald: the name of the doctor

"I don’t know where I am. It’s like I’m breaking into a million pieces and there’s only one thing I remember: I have to save the Doctor. He always looks different. I always know it’s him. Sometimes I think I’m everywhere at once, running every second, just to find him, just to save him. But he never hears me—almost never. I blew into this world on a leaf. I’m still blowing. I don’t think I’ll ever land."

We're all stories in the end | Eleven & Clara

It reminds me of someone. Artie's words still echoed in Clara's head as she headed down the stairs, her fingers running over the spine of the book. Immediately once those words had left his lips, Clara had put it together. She was surprised she hadn't thought of it before, but the last time she had laid eyes on the book she was almost uploaded. After that, any similarities that came out at her now had been pushed far in the back of her mind. She stopped on the bottom step, pausing as she took in the title again. Summer Falls, had been one of her favorite books since she had stumbled across it. She had found it beneath a pile of dusty old books, and she had gotten the oddest feeling when she started pulling the books off one by one until she found it.

Biting her lip and hugging the book to her chest, she stepped off the stairs and headed into the living room. She couldn't quite leave it be now. It would keep her up all night. "Doctor?" She asked, peering around, frowning at the empty living room.

#secretsprotectus #eleven x clara #para #we're all stories in the end

I'm still not sure. |Amelia and Clara|

Around about six hundred and eighty yeah, maybe a couple of years either way, but still. [Amie threw her a quick smile.] Honestly, I don’t. I always wanted to get away from my family, and I guess a few centuries before they were born is as good as I’m going to get. [She raised an eyebrow at Clara’s question, until now, she hadn’t even thought of it.] Well, I always thought it was an accident, but now I think about it, I did complain to him quite a bit. And don’t worry, it wasn’t insensitive! [She gave Clara a small smile to reassure her that she wasn’t phased by her question.] Well, lets just say that if he had broken my door down, I’d have done more than slap him. [Amelia giggled, remembering the night that Clara and her had met.] I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try.

#amelia x clara #itsyouramelia #i'm still not sure

That's good, I guess! It'd be much harder if you did. If he was able to take you back, would you want to go back? [She couldn't help but ask. If she was unhappy, Clara would try to do everything in her power to make sure Ami was sent back home. She'd miss her, of course.] Shall we take a cab?

blthazr-deactivated20141103

This Is The New Year | Open

It was sort of exciting, being back in the middle of some sort of war zone again. He wasn’t sure exactly what anyone was fighting for, or who they were fighting against, but it was kind of thrilling all the same. To be honest, the party had been rather dull at the beginning – it was all so very polite and civilised, and he kept waiting for the fun to start. An alien invasion hadn’t been what he’d had in mind, but it was better than sitting around watching the band play awful old tunes.

The hall was in complete chaos, and he didn’t really know who was where or what anyone was doing, except that he was aware of screaming and yelling and the firing of shots, figures both human and alien rushing around. One dark figure stood in front of an ice sculpture near to him, pointing a gun in the direction of a human woman who seemed to be fleeing from it – but she hoisted the nearest chair to her into the air and swung it at the creature. Balthazar blinked for a moment, impressed at her bravery despite everything. Then, realising he might actually need to do something, he flew forward, drawing a blade from his jacket and sticking it in the creature’s back.

“Points for originality,” he yelled to the girl, over the sounds of the fighting and the screaming of the creature. “You might need a little more than that, though!”