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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
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
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
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More