Him In Red? Literally Drooling 🤤🤤

screaming.

crying.

throwing up.

i love this so much.

All My Love | Twelfth Doctor

@pompeiianbollockr

Set during the blindness arc in Season 10 because I love me some vulnerable Doctor. I don't care if it's not in Twelve's character. He gets to be vulnerable because I SAID so :D

He hasn't spoken to you since before you landed on the space station. In fact, it's been nearly a week. It's been nearly a week since The Doctor allowed himself to kiss you. To touch you.

And possibly the most devastating part.. to see you.

Self sacrificial. That was one of the best words you'd ever used to describe him in the time you'd known this face. This face. With all its quirks, and all the things he hates about it: The attack eyebrows, the lines, the wrinkles and the age... Despite all the things he'd hated about this face, the one thing he'd learned from traveling with you is that the faces didn't matter.

He truly believed you loved him for him. You knew it. He knew it. This, though... This was something he wasn't sure he was going to come back from. The Doctor had spent centuries gallivanting across the universe, running further and faster from home because he couldn't dare look back, with promises of adventures on his lips and desperation for escape in his heart.

"Tell me... am I a good man?"

You scooted closer to where he was sitting on the stairs and tentatively rose your hand to graze your fingertips across his temple and card through those unruly silver curls. He shivered at the sensation and forced his eyes open to meet yours as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, "The best man I will ever know."

He hasn't forgotten the feeling of your lips meeting the skin under his ear. Or the first time he'd kissed you of his own accord. Or the first time you'd marked him in the dead of night in his bedroom, where your lips had branded his skin. The way he'd linked your fingers together on either side of your head.

The sound of your voice calling his name. The sound of your voice in general, so soft and sweet and good...

That is something he clings to so tightly now. All the memories of the past - mere years for you, millions of years for him - that had opened his eyes to the truth: Despite all his misgivings and all his failures, he too was someone deemed worthy of loving.

You had brought a light into his life that The Doctor had not realized he'd been so deprived of. It was the light of humanity, of hope, of a heart far too big for this universe that nobody would ever thank you for. You deserved so much better than him.

And yet, you didn't want better.

You only wanted him.

He can't figure out why he's so... sad. There's an empty hole in his hearts and his mind where someone used to be, where the memory and the love of someone he cared for used to occupy, and the realization he cannot place who they are is angering him.

The Doctor has always been vengeful. The Oncoming Storm, The Valeyard, Timelord Victorious. He has rage written into the very essence of his bones and a desire to protect and save people in a way no one had ever saved him from himself.

"Hey you," You dragged your fingers across his shoulder blades as you came to sit beside him in the open doorway of the TARDIS. "Where did you go?"

That was one of the things he'd first recognized he loved about you. Despite this body having difficulties with physical affection and intimacy, he'd learned how to communicate with body language and gazes. Absent looks. Looks of adoration. Affection. Longing. That was all it took.

And you still read him like a book.

"Something's missing," He lightly knocked on his temple as you reached out and took his hand in your own. The Doctor let you. It was like he could feel the sunlight and warmth seeping from you into him. The light overwhelming the dark. "In here. There's someone who's supposed to be in here with the rest of them. I don't remember."

You did. You did, and Clara had made you promise before she flew away that you would never help him remember. That you would help him carry the weight.

"Maybe you're not supposed to. We're all stories in the end," You whisper. The Doctor softened as he lifted your hand to his lips and tentatively brushed them against your knuckles. "And maybe some of those stories become songs. Whispers of melodies and lines that hold the things we cannot remember."

All of his memories are composed in a form of music: Lines upon lines of melancholic notes in the minor key that is his endless life, with crescendos of bright notes meant to convey the optimism and light brought by the companions who travel alongside him.

And when they leave, the decrescendo extends over what feels like years, softening to a singular note that eases into silence.

Him, alone, on his own battlefield. That's how he feels right now. Battling the recognition that he may never be able to bask in the light again. That he may always be victim to the darkness.

So The Doctor lets the darkness win. He distances himself from you because it's better to face the darkness alone.

However, you are not willing to let him.

***

You know him. You know him better then you know yourself, and you have known him long enough to know his tells when it comes to how he keeps his secrets. How he lets himself lie. You are the only person who is able to truly see The Doctor.

You would be lying if you said you weren't hurt by his sudden distance. He hadn't done this since he'd recently regenerated. When he'd been resentful of his new body, of the world, and of who he was now.

You had lost count of all of the times that you had followed the sound of grief and heartache and despair into the darkness of his bedroom. All the times he'd turned you away. All the times he'd left you out in the cold of the TARDIS hallways.

All the times he'd finally given in and allowed himself to be held.

You'd been longing to do that again. To be the one being held, to be reminded that he did indeed still love you. The Doctor always went on about having ''a duty of care'' for you and for Bill.

Did your self hatred overwhelm your duty of care, Doctor? Did the coward finally win?

When Bill and Nardole had disappeared, you had stayed behind with The Doctor when he'd attempted to read the Veritas. You had been right around the corner when you were alarmed by the sound of pained groaning coming from within the cage.

"Cardinal, it worked. I can see. Not well enough. Not yet."

Dread bubbled low in your stomach as you approached the cage from behind. Hadn't his blindness been cured? What was he talking about?

"Think about the universes. Whatever you need, you can always borrow." He blinked heavily. Once, twice, three times to try and clear the haze from over his eyes. You were standing just outside of his peripheral vision. He wouldn't be able to tell you were there. And after shutting you out, after days of nothing.. This upset you. This hurt. "As long as you pay it back. I just borrowed from my future. I get a few minutes of proper eyesight, but I lose something. Maybe all my future regenerations will be blind. Maybe I won't regenerate ever again. Maybe I'll drop dead in twenty minutes, but... I will be able to read this."

He slammed his hand on top of the Veritas. You weren't paying attention anymore. The next thing you knew, the lights were going out, and you were running to keep up with him even though he did not know you were there.

You tried not to let your hurt show. Or for him to hear it in your voice.

That would come later.

***

When all was said and done, you found him in the console room. He was still adjusting to learning how to identify when people were approaching based off of his other senses. It took The Doctor a moment to recognize the sound of footsteps approaching, but he did turn from his seat on the pilot's chair nearest to the console to where he thought you were standing.

He also didn't know that you were very aware he was still blind.

"Darling? Is that you? You should know that I always know it's you. Don't be coy."

"I'm mad at you."

His brow rose at that. "And why would that be?"

You walked forward to stand in the natural part of his legs. "For all of the times you have dragged me across the universe," You begin, swallowing your fear as you take both his hands and settle them on your hips while you settle in his lap. "For all the times I have had with you, the years I have known you. I never thought you'd be this thick."

The Doctor snorted. Did you not know this face? He was ridiculously thick headed.

"You should know by now that I am extremely thick," He argued, allowing his fingers to drift under the fabric of your cotton shirt and drum lightly against your hips. "Thick headed and arrogant and a selfish old man."

"An old man who forgot the first promise we ever made." You have yet to touch him. To properly touch him. ''Tell me. When did you forget?"

He struggled to keep hold of those memories. The early ones. When one has an infinite life, you do your best to hold onto what is precious.

"You can't." The Doctor had declared. It had been mere weeks since he'd regenerated, and he was so unsure, so scared. He did a remarkable job of hiding it. "You can't love me."

It was also the first time you'd properly been able to communicate how you felt to him. Eleven had called you, desperate and longing and begging you to understand, to remember that he's still The Doctor despite having a different face.

You had never had the courage to tell his younger face that you loved him. When Eleven had helped you to recognize the fear underneath that worn, aged face, you'd walked right back into the TARDIS and declared it with all the courage of a soldier facing a battlefield alone.

"I do love you. I have loved you. It took a while for me to recognize it, but I do. It's not a lie. It's not a trick or deception. It's me." You took your hand and placed it on his chest. He winced, though briefly, because this body was not quite ready to accept more physical contact than that. "Being brave."

"Promise me then. No secrets. No tricks." He murmured. You took the opportunity to close the gap of space between you, keeping your hand in its place as his grey eyes met yours. You shivered as he brought his own hand up to cradle your jaw. Your lips parted on their own accord as his eyes flickered down to them before slowly dragging his gaze upward to meet your own. "Promise me that you will keep them safe."

"Them?"

"Those fragile, beating things you've held in your hands since we met. Tell me," His breath fanned across your face as he hesitantly leaned inward. "What does it feel like to hold a Timelords hearts?"

"I asked you to keep me safe," The Doctor remarked. "That's not your job. It was an unrealistic promise."

"You're forgetting the beginning of that promise," You finally leaned inward enough that The Doctor could feel the rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your breath against his cheek. He froze as you lightly tapped his sonic glasses. "No secrets. Take them off."

He did not move for almost a minute and a half. The Doctor knew that he should've seen this coming. He should've known you were clever enough to figure him out.

He removed one hand from under your shirt and removed the glasses willingly. Your heart hammered painfully hard in your chest as you were greeted with the familiar grey of his eyes. This time, however, they were cloudy. They were almost... dark.

"It never went away. I just didn't know how to properly tell you." The Doctor shrugged. "You deserve better. It's as I've said. Selfish old man, traveling across the universe with his best-"

He paused as you pressed a fingertip to his lips. The Doctor hummed and kissed your finger, reveling in the feeling of warmth tracing his face reverently.

"I wish you'd just told me." You murmured. You pressed yourself closer, dragging his hand up your hip until his thumb was pressing hard enough against your skin to feel your heartbeat. "You know me better than this. I love you. You have all my love."

"Even without my sight?" He asked. "I can't... I can't see you. And it's devastating."

That was a peculiar way to describe it. "What could be devastating about that?"

"You really don't know, do you?" He replied. You took both of his hands and slowly lifted them to your face, setting his thumbs against the curve of your lips. "It's hard to come to terms with the darkness winning when you've learned to love the light."

Oh.

"You can't see me," You whisper. You shiver as he drags his fingers across your mouth slowly, allowing them to travel across your face. "But you can learn how to find the light again. Darkness isn't forever."

You spent what felt like hours in silence after that. The Doctor allowed himself to drink in the warmth for the first time in ages, humming as you allowed him to relearn your face. The shape of your eyes. The sweep of your nose, the curve of your lips, the texture of your hair under his fingers.

When he was done, your breath caught as he tangled his fingers in your hair and dragged your head back just enough to expose the slope of your neck. "My love," His voice rumbled deep in his chest. "Tell me, what does it feel like?"

It took you a moment to find your voice as he lowered his head to drag his teeth across your pulse point, followed by the warmth of his lips that elicited a shiver from deep within you. "What does.. What does what feel like, Doctor?"

The last thing he says is, "Being the light." Before he's capturing your lips with his own, and the light overcomes the darkness once again.

Not a lie was spoken here. Slay.

Rachel Zegler haters are soooo annoying omg god forbid a woman criticize a movie made in the 1930S!!!! I guarantee you that these people could not care less about Snow White before she landed that role.

I don’t know if she’s done anything that’s actually bad, but it doesn’t seem to concern this issue seeing as if you ask a hater why they don’t like her they’ll just repeat the same “she’s so ungrateful and stuck up.. Snow White whatever whatever” argument.

And the fact that there’s a good amount of MEN writing those comments.. like I KNOW you are not that offended by Snow White not getting the love u think it deserves. You’re mad that a young woman (and of latina descent) is speaking her mind and promoting more diversity in a studio where it was nearly nonexistent until the last decade.

And then there’s the hiveminded people in the tbosas comments like “I thought we didn’t like her” omg please go water your brain take it out for some sunlight and grow ur own opinion.

I've just started criminal minds, I'm not even on season two yet. What is the discord around Elle? Cause I love her so far.

i have never got past s3 of the vampire diaries

yall .. i just remembered that i never finished twd

How could the Shanshu Prophecy NOT have been about Spike in Chosen?

The Prophecy states that a vampire with a soul would play a pivotal role in the apocalypse, and would be rewarded with becoming human when that happened. This was introduced in S1 of AtS, where it was also explicitely stated that the vampire in question isn't named, just that it's one with a soul. And since Angel was unique in that way, naturally it's assumed that he's the one they're referring to (but then why not name him if he was the only one it could apply to hmmm?) Wolfram and Hart took the extra step of research to learn that it was unclear whether the vampire would play a pivotal role on the side of good, or the side of evil, so they tried their darndest to get Angel on the side of evil through all five seasons.

But, hello? Angel has had a soul for a hundred and something years. And he's been through an apocalypse or two, first with Buffy, then on his own show. What's he been doing all this time? Which apocalypse are we talking about here? Lindsey claims the apocalypse has been going on all around them in Season 5, but the Buffyverse has always had clearly marked events signalling the end of the world that had to be prevented. The world being a mess is NOT an apocalypse in and of itself.

And then another vampire gets himself a soul, that could only have been forseen in prophecy, because he decided on his own to go and fight for it. After getting said soul, the First Evil immediately latched onto Spike and started grooming him, manipulating him, and brainwashing him into killing people. Random bystanders at first, probably testing to see if it could work on Buffy and her friends.

So Spike could very well have been on the side of evil in S7, if he didn't work so hard to resist the First's influence, if he didn't ask Buffy to help him, if he didn't break through his trigger. Or hell, even if he'd left town.

And then Angel is handed a mystical amulet and some info meant to help with whatever is going on in Sunnydale. He hands it over to Buffy and offers to be the champion in question, but she says no, and chooses Spike instead.

I'm not gonna get into the whole Spuffy side of this, haha, but S7 was about Buffy choosing Spike, every single time, in every aspect of her life, in love, and in battle. And this universe did originate with her, so she ought to be the one to determine this, within the confines of the show, anyway.

Spike takes it willingly, they both know he's probably going to die, Buffy does try to get him out of there when she sees he IS dying, and he stays, giving his life so that she and everyone else can live. His soul powers the amulet, his love sets their hands aflame, and his heroic act bathes him in sunlight before he's destroyed.

In the battle against THE FIRST EVIL. If I was gonna pick which apocalypse the Shanshu was talking about, I would choose one that had a villain called THAT. Plus it's Spike's first apocalypse with a soul, so that would also make sense that it's the one the Prophecy is referring to. No resting on his laurels for THIS vampire.

Except, instead, he dies and shows up on Angel's show disoriented and alone and without Buffy and with a complete 180 personality, battling with Angel on who the Prophecy is about, and you'll notice the show never does answer that question. Because Spike objectively makes the most sense. But it's not like they could make Angel play second fiddle ON HIS OWN SHOW.

No, what they should have done, is let the finale of Buffy cross over with Angel properly. Not just a cameo, but bring the whole Angel crew in, so that anyone watching the show would be forced to watch that specific episode of Buffy just to keep up with the story.

And Spike should have Shanshued. And Angel would have been disappointed, sure, but hey, he's BEEN human before. And he didn't like it. He even got a ring that made him impervious to harm. And he didn't like it. He loved Cordy more deeply (and more recently) than he ever loved Buffy. So it's not like he's really waiting for her anymore. Plus Cordy is part demon now, so Angel doesn't have to worry about not being enough for her. (Oh yeah, they should have brought Cordy out of her coma for this ending, to make any kind of cohesive sense).

But Spike... Spike was always more human to begin with. He may not have ever thought becoming human was on his bucket list, but he didn't think that about a soul either, until the time came where he needed it. He would LOVE to take Buffy out in the sun, and grow old with her, and give her the family and white picket fence that she's always secretly wanted and didn't think she could ever have. He would have still died, the same way soulless Spike died the minute he got a soul, but without all the heartbreak the canon ending gave us.

I'm partial to the stories where the Shanshu means some vamp powers like extra strength and healing remain, but those are just semantics.

As a cherry on top it would prove to anyone who's ever called it into question, and I include Buffy and Spike themselves on this list, that it's not that Buffy wants normal, nor is it that she wants a demon. She loves Spike for who he is, demon or not, human or not, but the soul and humanity would have helped him be the best version of himself, a man worthy of loving her and living with her, and after all the battles they've fought in their relationship to get here, it feels like it would have been kind of a sign that someone out there gives their blessing on this pairing. And Buffy could have said she loved him and chosen him AGAIN, in front of everyone, including Angel, and that would have been our endgame ending. (Though... to be honest if the comics still happened after this and Spuffy broke up at any point I would have been betrayed in a whole different way.)

And that's how BtVS could have ended. Angel could have gone on to have another season more or less the same, without any Spike or Buffy or Shanshu to speak of. And it could have ended EXACTLY the same.

The writing was literally so perfect and set it up for Spike so beautifully and unexpectedly. It wouldn't have even had to be a slap in the face for Angel because a. neither show was afraid of disrespecting a character at any point, and b. if it had been done on Buffy's show, it would have been less of a blow and made more sense, that Angel went back to BtVS to watch this unfold, where he wasn't the main character anyway. The Prophecy introduced on his show was really intended to be in service to hers, as any spinoff show ought to be.

Plus the episode title Chosen is such a beautiful one that has so many double and triple and quadruple meanings that one more would have been awesome.

So yeah. Those are my thoughts on the Shanshu this fine evening. Obviously many, many Spuffy fics (including my own) have given it to Spike or Angel or neither, all with their own reasons. And of course there's lots and lots of opinions on whether we would even want that for Spike, or if Spike and Buffy would want it.

But I think it just needed to be spelled out that from a writing standpoint, this would have made the most sense, and why.

Fanfiction was the friend I had when I was lonely, it never left me. Only inspired me.

Fanfiction is not "Eww... fanfiction".

Fanfiction is comfort after a long day. Fanfiction is hope when things aren't going so well. Fanfiction is exploring your emotions and sexuality in a safe place. Fanfiction is reaching out into a universe to discover things you never knew before. Fanfiction is discovering things about yourself that you were unsure of. Fanfiction is going on adventures. Fanfiction is walking when maybe you cannot. Fanfiction is standing up for yourself when it's hard to do in real life. Fanfiction is having the family you never had, the friends you always wanted, the love and affection you deserve. Fanfiction is letting out your frustrations and anger in a safe place. Fanfiction helps people. Readers and Writers alike.

Fanfiction is not "lesser writing".

Fanfiction is 100k stories about two dudes in a shiny black car. Fanfiction is 47 chapter epic tales about dragons and magic. Fanfiction is short stories that evoke such emotions that leave you crying for hours. Fanfiction is incredible prose that lingers in your mind for years to come.

Fanfiction is not shameful. It is not worthless. It is not just some silly thing kids do.

Fanfiction is beautiful art and no one can take that away from you. If they try, just write them into your next story and beat the hell out of them.

the people of congo are going through it. woman are getting S&’d and children are being forced to work to give you what you are holding in your hand rn while reading this.

Free Congo🇨🇩

Love this, I'll be using it from now on when making my own characters :)

oc asks: character design edition

FACE & FEATURES

glance: At first glance, what stands out most about your OC's appearance? What's their distinguishing feature?

face: Describe your OC's face. What's their smile like? Are their orbs cerulean? What would someone notice first when looking at them?

stature: What's your OC's body type? How tall are they? Do they wear clothing to accentuate their look or do they try to mask it?

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

stillness: How does your OC act while still? Are they fidgety? Do they have any common gestures or tics? Does their clothing affect how they hold themselves while at rest?

canvas: Does your OC have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings? Do they display or cover them up at all?

CUT & CLOTHES

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

day: What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

formal: What's your OC's formal look? Do they like dressing up? Do they have different looks for different occasions?

informal: What's your OC's lazy-day look? How do they like to dress when they're winding down?

outerwear: What's your OC's outerwear situation? Jacket, sweater, cloak? What sort of weather do they deal with most and how do they protect themselves?

footwear: What does your OC wear on their feet?

road: What does your OC wear while traveling? Do they have high-quality equipment, or are they making do? What does their gear look like?

armor: What kind of armor does your OC wear? Is it well kept? Bonus: where does it come from? Is there a story behind it?

arms: Does your OC have any weapons? What weapons do they carry, and how do they wear them when they're not fighting?

roots: Is your OC's look inspired by any specific style of clothing or fashion trend? What are the roots and/or inspiration for their look?

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

wardrobe: How big is your character's wardrobe? Do they wear things threadbare, or can they afford new clothes often? Are they any good at mending and repairing their own clothing?

ACCESSORIES & ACCENTS

bling: What jewelry does your OC wear? Does it have any meaning?

hair: How does your OC wear their hair? Does it have some kind of meaning?

makeup: Does your OC wear makeup? How often? What kind? Why do they wear makeup, and do they like it?

favorite: Does your OC have a favorite article of clothing or accessory? What is it? What's the meaning behind it? Do they wear it all the time or do they wear it sparingly to keep it safe?

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU!

Please reblog for a bigger sample size if you can!

@userlaylivia @rigginsstreet @disasterbiwriter @einsteinsugly