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Making BerthThe Doctor stood in the lamplight, outside a pub in vacant London. False snow clung to his hair, and his breath whirled visibly in the cold breeze. Christmas night Hed had to come here, after all hed lost. Had to see what hed done, the 6 billion people hed saved To prove that it was worth it. Even if hed never believe it himself.
6 billion and 3. His subconscious countered. He had to see them and feel them and bathe in their goodness, their magnificence. Had to convince himself to go on, for their sakes. For Martha. For Jack. For Rose. For all the others out here Surviving. Living.
And for Astrid. For Adric. For all the beautiful people tossed to the wayside- unnamed, unknown, all with their beautiful futures that The Doctor had marred beyond recognition. Those who had been brave and good, those he couldnt save Whose faces hed see every night, every blink, behind his eyelids.
They all thought the doc
FearGranny Crane lived next to a graveyard.
In a small trailer park near the Gotham church. They lived there partially because the rent was cheap, as the funereal location was less than alluring, and partially because Granny Crane liked being so close to the church. Jonathan didnt mind, even if she would drag him there daily to confess the sins she believed him to be festering in. No, Jonathan didnt mind, because sometimes, at dusk, when Granny was gently snoring with her drinks and her stories, he could sneak out and weave through the gravestones, with the amber autumn sun at his back, then the rising harvest moon.
Jonathan was afraid of many things, but he didnt fear the dead. In all his time at the graveyard, no ghosts had plagued him, and that was more than young Jonathan could say for the living. He was afraid of the living- of the bullies who beat him blue and shouted names, of his grandmother who drank and swore and called the devil down on his bastard head, of bir
Going HomeThis isnt exactly what I imagined when you suggested fighting across the constellations. The Master said, gazing out at the broad expanse of universe surrounding them. The two Time Lords lay suspended in the TARDIS protection field, on an asteroid, a few scorch marks its final testimony to the planet it had burst from only moments ago. In the light of the supernova they talked like old friends and old enemies, because what's the need for titles after all they had been through? They were themselves, and each other, and the last. The Master turned.
Why did you do it? Images of The Doctor racing back and forth, cradling the bleeding time lord to his chest. Into the TARDIS, smash controls, keep him breathing until you get to god-knows-where.
Im The Doctor. Cheeky. And you very well know why.
Its nice to hear.
I need you. Just as much as you need me.
You knew it was me,
Echoes of Rain -Death Note-Rain pounded the pavement in hard, wet drops; not a playful summer shower, no, not this. This was harsh, stinging, biting rain, without relent, without forgiveness. This was the rain that stuck hair to your face and made you feel soaked and abandoned, hopeless and alone.
Matt never minded the rain.
Matt was nothing; He was a shell. Lost, adrift, empty- floating dimly through a wasteland of disenchantment, barely taking any of it in, barely even there. A sharp mind, a quick wit with no purpose, no destination. Dark goggles shrouded apathetic eyes, just another barrier between himself and the world, himself and caring.
A long drag of a cigarette, a fleeting wonder about how it even stayed lit in this weather. Fleeting, yes, that was Matt. Always moving on, glancing away, no time to get bored, no time to care. He twirled a key ring around his index finger like a helicopter- little things. It almost made him feel human.
Brushing wet auburn hair from his eyes, Matt trudged up the steps to h
The boys body fell to the pavement with a thud. He groaned, pulling himself off the grimy sidewalk as he half-heartedly gestured at the bouncer whod thrown him from the bar. His vision swam violently as he attempted to walk, now thoroughly drunk. Clambering loudly through the silent midnight streets, his long, threadbare trench coat swaying in the howling autumn wind, the boy ducked into a dark alley- maybe hed be able to find an almost-stable fire escape to sleep on tonight.
But the boy stopped dead.
In front of him stood a man, tall and menacing and ethereally pale, who looked as though he was locked in a passionate moment with the young woman beside him. The boy gasped loudly, however, when he saw the thin stream of blood dripping from the womans neck. At this sound, the intimidating figure turned, dropping the girls body unceremoniously onto a pile of trash.
The boy cried- a quiet, strangled sound. He couldnt move- The mans wi
Words That We Couldn't Say
Words That We Couldn't Say
Vicious' long fingers wrapped around the neck of the vodka bottle, bringing it to his pale lips for another swig. He was dimly aware of his surroundings, that he was laying half-frozen on a moth-eaten bed in some slummy motel. The icy Callistan wind bit brutally from the open window, but Vicious didn't care. Didn't care if he died, alone, in this rat-infested hell hole. In fact he hoped for it.
He took another swig.
The syndicate had disbanded. The organization he'd pledged his life to was gone. Gone, in an instant. In a blink of an eye, the past fifteen years of his life meant nothing. There was nothing left for him now.
He took another swig.
Vicious didn't really know why he came to Callisto. He'd driven here on emotional autopilot after he'd gotten the news of the Syndicate. He dimly supposed it was because the last time he was here was the last time he'd actually felt.
Vicious grimaced. That name brought up feelings better left unsaid.
SignatureMemories of yours
Objects in my room
You sold me gloom
And all the lights.
Are you a fool
Or a blind mind?
Believing my lies
Soon you will die.
I have the rights
Of all your stupid life
Any kind of will
You read the chain
Embracing your neck
You signed it anyway
I am so lucky
I own a soul
I’m lord of its world
My wealth grows.
There’s no escape
My hopeless pet
Be my slave
And try to obey.
Take these drugs and feel the fun,
smile once and then you’re done.
Click our ad and try your luck,
elation-fit, and then you’re stuck.
For just another little dime
be happy, happy, all the time.
Melancholy’s for the saps,
put your boredom in our traps.
Once you need a stronger fix,
Give us money, get your kicks.
Hear our pitch, ignore the slime,
be happy, happy, all the time.
Real worlds do not exist,
lance that sadness like a cyst,
Make your own world, make it true,
Use our rules, made just for you.
Where sadness is the biggest crime,
be happy, happy all the time.
RustyMy heart is of rich, bright copper old
And in it contained love and happiness
It's not my smile or eyes that are bold
But the joyous soul shines its goodness
And then I met him, a mysterious guy
Of high status, an aristocrat if you will
He's charming, majestic like the sky
His grey eyes always gave my spine a chill
I don't know what lured me into him
Perhaps it was the danger that he emits
Little did I know he was nothing but grim
And he sucked out my life when we kiss
Heart and soul turned cold, a hard metal shell
I couldn't repair it no matter what I tried to do
The love was replaced with something from hell
Anger, sadness, misanthropy only grew and grew
My tears, like rain, touches my metal heart- now red
It's rusting away, until one day I must dispose of it
It is no longer beautiful, no longer pure, just dead
I'm broken and tainted with vileness of an evil spirit
Like a rusted robot, I need someone to fix me, a repair
Please clean me and help me rid of the painful memories
pencilsif life was a pencil,
my eraser would be gone.
all used up,
but the lead would live on.
it would make it's mistakes,
but couldn't take them back.
so the lead would live on,
until it cracked.
first kissThere is no equality in love
Who willingly wears the tightest glove
All must give what few can take
Brave heart dares bend far past its break
No casual chance not to be bored
Give to get true risk reward
No one can win this dangerous game
We all play still the same
While at the door pause reminisce
Only to remember that first kiss
hot to trotinside out
this years' toy
hot to trot
Melody"Be proud of yourself",
the words rise and fall.
"Look at what you have accomplished!",
They hit against the wall.
"Be proud of who you are".
They sing to me and to all.
Hear the song,
and the reason to be alive.
To think it's warmth,
To think it's touch,
would leave me in cold,
and forever behind,
was far from my mind.
The melody brought me down,
taking my hands in it's chains,
never allowing me to reach and rise,
in the light of the sunrise.
rustythey called me little iron-heart,
because i "only cared about myself."
if only they knew the memories,
that were rusting away on my shelves.
the feelings came along with the pain,
and back to the memories to start.
everything in my life led up,
to my gray, little, locked up broken-heart.
i didn't care about anyone,
because i was unable to care anymore.
i thought i wore my heart on my sleeve,
i thought my sadness was apparent, for sure.
but maybe they just couldn't see past me,
and see that my heart was a little dusty.
so that's me, "iron-heart", the big fat jerk.
well i'm sorry if my social skills are rusty.
Sins of the MaskedBetween the face
And its reflection
Twixt the dream
And its inception
Falls the Lie
Our Father, who art in Heaven
Between the twilight
And the waking
Twixt the longing
And the taking
Falls the Lie
Give him a mask
Between the reason
Twixt the truth
And the confusion
Between the spark
And the illusion
Falls the Lie
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More