Worth the Wake

5. Sunrise – Zepheera enjoys something beautiful for once

AU: Donna AU of BTaS (the Doctor rescues Zepheera while Donna is traveling with him)


Warm, gentle pressure at Zepheera’s back brought her to the waking world. She nearly batted at the finger prodding at her when the Doctor whispered, “C’mon, wake up. It’s happening.”

That was enough encouragement for Zepheera. They’d spent the night out here, under an alien sky, because it was one of the simple pleasures that had never been available to the borrower. She was either too busy worrying about her survival or that of her people, or was stuck in a cage in a windowless room. Here she had friends who were concerned for her recovery, invested in her interests, and more than willing to be her safe place to fall.

Sitting up, Zepheera rubbed her eyes and looked around. Donna was still fast asleep in her own spot, and the sky above was becoming lighter by the second.

The Doctor’s hand shifted to form a platform near Zepheera, who sat on his chest while he lay on his back. She accepted the silent offer without hesitation, and the Doctor was able to sit up without sending Zepheera tumbling. Then she could take her usual perch on his shoulder.

“Any moment now…”

All of the tension from the effort of waking up melted as soon as Zepheera saw the first sliver of sunlight peeking over the horizon.

The Doctor plucked out a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and balanced it on his shoulder so Zepheera could balance one lens on her lap to protect her eyes from the intensity of the sun without missing out on any of the beauty. Together, they watched the arrival of the sun change the colors of the sky and the clouds, a breathtaking canvas constantly in motion.

Zepheera, careful to not shift the sunglasses enough to cause them to fall, scooted herself closer to the Doctor’s neck. Part of her was grateful that he couldn’t see her tears when they were this close. It was still tough for her to be emotionally vulnerable around someone his size, and she didn’t want him to worry needlessly when he’d made her so happy.

“Thank you for this,” she said, unable to avoid the slight crack of emotion in her voice.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he whispered back, “Anytime.”

A First Borrowing

2. Curiosity – Nate’s first excursion into the human world

AU: ??? (Nathan Sullivan is a borrower in a world in which borrowers are common knowledge)


Twelve years old was rather young for Nathan to learn to borrow, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He was far from rebellious or daring by nature. Quiet and respectful of the rules, of which there were many. With borrowers being known to humans, it was sort of necessary.

Nate understood that, even though the humans had mostly agreed to leave borrowers alone, that it was still dangerous out in the world. Even so, he argued that it would do no harm for him to get a head start on learning to survive. Evidently that was hard enough to argue with that he got his way in the end.

Truth be told, Nate was dying for a glimpse of the human world. It was all so much bigger than the community he grew up in, in more ways than one. Humans had far more at their fingertips than Nate could ever hope to underground. The most exciting learning experience he had to look forward to was studying a trade. He had a deep hunger in his mind that longed for more to learn.

So one could imagine Nathan’s excitement when the first place his father took him to borrow was full of homework. Spanning several grades, the dining room table was full of the stuff to the point that Nate’s father repeatedly chided him to focus on filling his bag with materials.

Compared to that, the rest of the flat was fairly standard. It was a decent distance from the community so it couldn’t easily be traced if worst came to worst. There wasn’t much to learn about the humans that lived here, but it seemed to Nate that it was mostly kids.

In their last room before they returned, Nate noticed something that his father, knowingly or not, overlooked. It looked like a scrap of loose leaf paper folded two or three times, tucked in the space behind a small bookshelf, with a colorful “Hello!” scrawled on the front in pencil crayon.

Intrigue got the best of him and, checking to see if his father was looking, Nate unfolded the paper. It read, in carefully printed block letters:

My name is Stan. I am ten years old. I don’t know any borowers, I promise I’m nice! Will you be my friend?

“Leave it.”

Nate’s father’s voice melted the endeared smile he didn’t notice was forming. He hurried to fold the note back as it was. His dad gave a gesture for Nate to follow, and he knew they were about to leave.

Before he obeyed, Nathan hesitated. He wasn’t usually impulsive, especially when it came to safety. This kid seemed sweet, though. Perhaps he really was nice.

Nathan wasn’t sure if he’d ever find out, but for now, he surreptitiously took a pencil tip from his bag and scrawled a quick and small “Hi” next to the larger, more colorful greeting.

April Fools!

1. Pranks – Zepheera is bored. Shenanigans ensue.

Slowly working my way through these. Let’s see if I actually finish the list this time

Btas: Non-Canon


“Lose something?”

The Doctor paused in his frantic search around the console room, lifting his chin to find the source of the tiny owner of the tiny voice.

“You didn’t,” he growled as he squinted toward the shadowy tops of the coral supports surrounding the room.

A small shadow shifted overhead. “Who, me?”

“Zepheera. Where. Is. My. Sonic?”

As a little figure swung out under a branch of coral on a thin line, the Doctor turned to square off with it, crossing his arms and tapping his toe. The woman who lowered herself unto the dim blue-green light tossed her short brown bob oh so innocently.

“I’ve absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” With her line attached to her belt, she allowed one hand to reach into her vest pocket and pulled out an absolutely miniscule device. She pressed the button and the tip lit up blue.

The Doctor’s eyes widened. “You SHRANK IT?!”

Zepheera smirked, letting herself hang upside down from her harness, waving the sonic and letting the light glint off the gold ring on her upper arm. The culprit for the shrinkage of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver. “Sure did!”

“Well, un-shrink it!” the Doctor demanded, holding his hands out under the dangling borrower and his miniaturized tool. It distressed him to no end to see it no bigger than a grain of rice. “Why would you even take it, anyway??”

“Because,” Zepheera shrugged. She then let the sonic slip through her fingers, and quickly reached out the arm with the ring to point at it.

“April Fools!” she cried, flipping herself upright the second before the sonic landed safely in the Doctor’s hand, its proper size once again.

After a tender moment of holding his sonic close to his chest, the Doctor shot a flat look up at Zepheera and pointedly returned the device to his inside jacket pocket. “You do realize we’re floating in space, there’s no way to keep track of dates out here.”

Zepheera rolled her eyes and released the latch on her harness to allow herself to lower to the Doctor’s eye level. “It’s been days and I’m bored!”

“We’ve talked about this, we are social distancing!”


Asks and Prompts are open! | Main Story

G/T Prompts Day 8

8. Jar – Stan has a wake-up call.

AU: ???


Stan couldn’t breathe.

He thought seeing the world from only a few inches tall had been amazing, and after he climbed down his bedspread to the floor, he was all set on exploring the alien landscape his bedroom had become.

Then the ground, the very air, everything began to shake. Steady vibrations rattled the floor under Stan’s feet and froze him in place. Sharp impacts on the massive shut door made him flinch, and he clapped his hands over his ears as a tremendous voice rumbled through it.

Panic rose within the teen as it sank in. Someone was looking for him, and they were enormous.

His imagination took it from there, disregarding the logic that whoever it was out there was one of Stan’s brothers, his family. Instead, Stan was paralyzed by images of giants as they’d always been portrayed in films and stories, vicious creatures who meant harm to those smaller than them.

These overwhelming fears came to a head when he saw the door open ever so slightly, and Stan jumped behind the nearest thing to hide, hardly noticing that it happened to be a discarded shoe that was now taller than he was.

Stan’s heart pounded too loudly in his ears to process what the giant was saying, but he certainly felt the wave of displaced air when the door swung open, the earth-shattering footsteps that followed. Humongous feet stomped closer and swung right past Stan’s hiding spot in only a handful of steps.

A hand shot up to cover Stan’s mouth, quieting his heavy breathing and stifling the dread-filled cries he could feel creeping up his throat. The giant’s feet were right there and Stan was completely exposed, it could notice him at any moment! He needed to find a new hiding spot, and he glanced around the corner of the shoe to find one.

If he could just made it under the dresser in the distance…

The next few minutes were an adrenaline-filled blur; dashing from one shoe to its match to hide, then from there to the safe shadowy cavern under the dresser. The SLAM of a door and more thunderous footsteps to run away from.

Before Stan could make heads or tails of anything but runrunRUN!, he found himself surrounded by warmth and gentle pressure. Squirming against it made Stan realize it was flesh he was resisting, a dull and distant heartbeat pulsing through a palm much bigger than Stan’s entire body, long and strong fingers curled impenetrably around him.

Just when Stan started shaking with terror, the grip around him loosened. He fell between fingers and landed on something cold and smooth, and slid down a steep angle for only a second until he settled at the bottom.

The bottom of a jar, Stan realized after a panicked look around. Surrounded on all sides by glass that was surrounded by those gigantic fingers, gripping tight as the hand tilted to right the jar. The jar was lifted, and Stan flattened himself to the bottom as he felt the pressure of gravity working against him. From there, too terrified to do much else, Stan curled into a ball in one last ditch attempt to block out the world.

Then, after a second or two that seemed like an eternity to Stan, the world flipped on its head, and it was for the best that Stan was scrunched in such a tight ball. It kept him safe while he tumbled out of the jar, landing back in that massive hand.

It didn’t close around him this time, but that hardly mattered to Stan, who scrambled to find some way to escape from the immense creature that had him in its grasp.

“N-no! Please!”


Stan just got tossed ten pounds of yike in a five pound bag.

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Inktober 2018 Day 7

7. Kigurumi – The Doctor gets excited.

So…I fell behind. School stuff, mostly. I’ll catch up, I promise, but today DOCTOR WHO CAME BACK! I had to watch it, and I’m so excited for this season and for the 13th Doctor. I had a feeling I’d have to do something with her today. I’m glad it fit so well.

No spoilers for the new episode ahead.


Zepheera sat on a railing outside one of the TARDIS’ many dressing rooms in one of its many wardrobes, waiting for the Doctor to re-emerge. She had no idea why the Doctor was on the lookout for another outfit. There wasn’t anything wrong with the one she had, and besides that, Zepheera could recall the Doctors she’d known had only worn one or two.

Back before he became a she.

An exclamation of delight tugged the borrower out of her thoughts, and Zepheera perked up when the Doctor’s shape returned in the doorway.

It was a very odd shape indeed, and a far cry from the last outfit the Doctor picked. It didn’t seem to have much shape at all, as baggy as the soft material was.

“No,” Zepheera said flatly, ignoring the slight pang of guilt at the sight of the Doctor’s excited grin melting away.

“What? What’s wrong with it?” The Doctor tugged at the plush material, as if to show off how baggy it truly was.

“What is it even supposed to be?”

“Camouflage!” With a bright smile, the Doctor reached back and flipped up the hood that Zepheera hadn’t realized was there. Attached to the top was enough fabric to give it the impression that it was mimicking the appearance of an animal, including a slight protruding snout with felt teeth sticking out. “I’m a big bad wolf!” she announced proudly.

Zepheera frowned and supposed that explained the big white patch all down the Doctor’s front that she could only now assume was meant to represent underbelly fur. “The only place you’d blend in in that is a slumber party.”

The Doctor pouted, first in defeat and then in consideration. “Well, I like it, I’m keeping it on the back burner.” With that, she flipped back the hood and vanished once more in a flash of static-y blonde hair.

“You’re not wearing that out in public!” Zepheera called after her.


In case you’re wondering, here’s the inspiration for this new outfit of the Doctor’s.

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Prompt: Doing What You Love

nightmares06 asked:

“At least you’ll die doing what you love; Walking into danger.”

Finally getting around to this lol

From this list of dialogue prompts. Feel free to send in more!


What just happened?

That thought swirled on repeat in Stan Baker’s head as he returned to his flat, a place small enough for the 21 year old to afford on his own humble salary. He leaned against the door after it shut, stunned.

“Rough day?”

Deep green eyes widened and darted to the side. Sitting idly on the hooks on the wall meant to hold keys or coats, hooks Stan rarely used for such things, was a tiny woman no taller than a finger.

After a moment of staring, Stan let out a huff of a sigh that ruffled the woman’s short hair. He recognized her. Hard not to, she hadn’t changed a bit since the last time he saw her.

“Don’t people normally outgrow their imaginary friends?” he asked dryly.

She shrugged. “Suppose so. I always did think we had a special something, though.”

He shot her a flat look. “Well, thanks for dropping by, Tinkerbell, but I’ve grown up.”

“Zepheera,” she corrected, pushing herself up to stand balanced on the metal hook, hands on her hops. “Bit childish to resort to name-calling, don’t ya think?”

Again Stan huffed. “I don’t need to listen to this. You’re not even real.”

A moment passed between them.

“Well?” Zepheera prodded. “You’ve got long legs. Go ahead and leave if you don’t want me around.”

Stan’s brow furrowed, but he couldn’t look Zepheera in the eye. When he still didn’t make a move to leave, he sighed.

“Not a rough day,” he admitted, answering her initial question. “Just…kind of a weird one.”

At last he met her much smaller gaze, tiny pinpricks of violet that once had Stan convinced she was a faerie of some kind. With those eyes as kind as ever, Zepheera offered a small smile. “I’m up for tea if you wanna chat about it.”

Stan couldn’t refuse.


As always, Zepheera was a good listener. She sipped her tea evenly (from a cup Stan could swear she materialized out of thin air, unless she simply carried it around all the time in her tiny rucksack) and waited patiently for the end of Stan’s story.

“Sounds like you’ve got a new job lined up,” she commented.

“I haven’t accepted the offer yet,” Stan reminded her.

“And why not?”

Stan ran a hand through his hair.“Because… It’s a big decision. Punching out the occasional creep on the street is one thing, but this… If I make good here, I’ll be dealing with serious criminals. Terrorists, too. I could die.

The words hung heavy in the air for a few breaths, a solemn silence broken after Zepheera finished off the last dregs of her tea and got to her feet.

“Well,” she sighed, making her way slowly closer to Stan as she stowed her cup away, “the Stan Baker I know never could sit back while bullies were running rampant.”

Stan chuckled and found his chin lowering onto his folded arms the closer Zepheera came.

With a smile, she gave a small shrug. “And, not saying you will, but if things do get hairy out there, at least you’ll die doing what you love. Walking into danger.”

Stan blinked at Zepheera’s phrasing, feeling hope creep up on him. Then he heaved a world-weary breath, slumping his shoulders and burying his face in his arms.

A feather-light touch patted against one of his knuckles, and from that same direction Zepheera said, “See ya ‘round, Baker. Do what you think is right.”

The next time Stan looked up, Zepheera had vanished. Just like she always did.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grinned.

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G/T Prompts Day 22

anonymous asked:

22 with The Doctor and Zee? plz 🙂 Sorry I can’t spell her name to save my life.

If you’re referring to the Inktober gt prompt list, I’m planning on doing most, hopefully all of those a day at a time during the month of October. But when skimming the list, I had an idea for that particular day that involved people other than Doc and Zepheera, so since you asked so nicely…


22. Cramped

(went with the Tenth Doctor since that’s my go to)


“No way!”

“C’mon!” the Doctor hissed

desperately, glancing over his shoulder. They were coming, and he doubted

they’d be particularly friendly or mindful of his small companion. He needed to

get her out of sight, and she picked now of all times to be stubborn!

“It won’t be for long, I promise.”

Zepheera remained firm and shook her head in

protest, the shallow rise and fall of her chest beneath her tightly crossed

arms the only thing visibly belying her stress. “I’m not going in a

pocket!” she snipped back. “I can’t do anything in there, all

dark and cramped and–!”

“It’s not gonna–!” The Doctor’s

hushed rebuttal was cut short by the chorus of footsteps approaching. He looked

pleadingly at Zepheera. “Sorry. No time for arguing.”

With that he moved the hand holding Zepheera,

fingers curling protectively as she lost balance and fell in a heap in his

palm, and the next thing Zepheera knew she was falling.

Falling had been unexpected. Zepheera actually had

time to yelp before she hit the bottom.

She gave a dazed moan as she maneuvered herself

to lie on her back to take stock of her surroundings. Fabric rose up like

massive walls on either side of her, and there was definitely a seam under her

back. All the makings of a pocket, except this one stretched out much further

than any Zepheera could imagine.

A small sliver of light overhead was the only

indicator of how deep she was compared to her expectations. The opening of the

pocket was still a standard size, and given the distance between it and

Zepheera, it seemed even smaller. She glared at it as she pushed herself up to

sit and, gripping the fabric for stability, pulled herself to her feet. If she

concentrated, she could see the opening moving, and she counted herself lucky

that whatever was going on up there, she wasn’t feeling the full effect of the

Doctor’s movements.

Certainly didn’t stop her from being thoroughly

miffed about the whole situation.

“At least it isn’t cramped,”

Zepheera grumbled as she started to climb her way back up.


Asks and Prompts are open! | Submissions too! | Main Story

Stricken Sneezes

brothersapart:

image

AU: Brothers Consulted

Timeline: Right after moving into 221B Baker Street


“Look out!”

Dean shoved Sam out of the way, his younger brother stumbling backwards from the unexpected danger. Moira yelped, grabbing Sam’s arm to haul him back, leaving Dean to face the threat on his own.

A cat.

Dean didn’t budge an inch, his silver knife in hand as he faced down the cat to give Sam and Moira time to escape. This was supposed to be a quick trip to grab some supplies, stock up Sam and Dean’s new home a few flats away from Moira’s family. They’d only had enough extra food for one meal, and having Moira’s help was welcome.

Of course, no one ever consulted them when getting a new pet, and not knowing that a cat now lived in the flat Moira’s family called home meant that they’d stumbled right into it.

“Mrow?”

Keep reading

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Prompt: Children are the Future

image
image

BTaS Canon – ???

Based on the prompts Glance from this list of 100 one-word prompts, and Dollhouse from this similar list of G/t themed prompts from @nightmares06 and @bee-wrecker respectively. Finally getting around to these!


It had been going so well for Zepheera.

There were only two humans in the small flat, one of them a child. For six months, Zepheera had been living comfortably in their walls, and for nearly seventy years of fighting to survive, she trusted herself to keep hidden and make this home last for once.

And all it had taken was a glance from the child to ruin it all.

Desperate for any kind of barrier between herself and the human, she ducked into the child’s dollhouse. Any human was bad news for a borrower like Zepheera, but children were frightfully unpredictable and prone to grabbing and playing. At 68 years old, even with the body of a young adult, Zepheera was not in the mood for any of that nonsense.

The ground trembled beneath Zepheera as the child approached. Even a little girl, nine years old and much smaller than any adult human, greatly outsized the four and a half inch tall woman cornered in the dollhouse. As the child drew closer, Zepheera could clearly hear each and every breath rushing in and out of lungs larger than the room the borrower had made her prison.

“Hello?”

The little girl’s voice was mercifully light, a quiet rumble that washed over Zepheera through the plastic wall her back was pressed against. A wide blue eye peered in through one window, causing the borrower to jump and dart into the next room. Her eyes flashed frantically around for an exit, regretting her choice of hiding place, especially as the girl shifted outside.

With a loud click and a rush of air, half the dollhouse swung open. Zepheera was left exposed, blinking through the sudden light up at a gigantic child.

The human’s head tilted, brow pinched as she sat back on her heels. “Did I scare ya?” she inquired.

Zepheera frowned, realizing that it wasn’t curiosity that made the girl pursue her anymore, but concern. Those blue eyes, each the size of Zepheera’s head, were filled with it.

Bemused, Zepheera shook her head no.

The blonde girl’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Good. Why’dja run away, then, if you weren’t scared? How come you’re so small? What’s your name? I’m Rose!”

Zepheera’s brow lifted at the bombardment of curious questions. Maybe, if she played her cards right, she wouldn’t have to move out just yet.

“I ran because I was nervous,” said Zepheera, peeling herself from the wall sheepishly. “It’s my first day, you see, being an imaginary friend. I’m Zepheera.”

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Helping Hands — Part 3/3

((aka Happy Belated Hug A Tiny Day!))

Prompt from @neonthebright: The Doctor drops/misplaces his sonic somewhere he can’t reach and Zepheera goes on a mini-adventure to retrieve it for him.

BTaS Canon: No – DonnaAU

Timeline: Post-Midnight, Pre-Turn Left

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3


The Doctor couldn’t keep still as he waited for Zepheera. She was so close to retrieving his sonic screwdriver from the underbelly of his TARDIS, something he would never have been able to do without either an unthinkable amount of effort or a four-and-a-half inch tall companion.

“How’s it coming?” he called down  the gap, excited and impatient in equal measure. He hadn’t heard her voice in a little over two minutes, and he was eager to know the current state of his beloved screwdriver. He wished he could see into the hole he’d dropped the device into in the first place.

A small grunt echoed down from the shadows, a little closer than the last time Zepheera had filled him in. “Had to dislodge it from between two…I don’t even know. Things. Then I had to push it up a slope – this thing is harder to roll than it looks!”

“Do you think you can manage it?” asked  the Doctor, a little worry leaking through his voice. He hadn’t thought about how the borrower would be able to retrieve his sonic, a device almost longer than she was tall.

After a pause, she replied, “Don’t worry, I’ve got an idea. Give me a moment, and keep an ear out.”

The Doctor sat back and placed his chin on his folded arms, drumming his fingers restlessly. He hummed quietly to stop himself from actually counting the seconds until he heard Zepheera’s voice again. “Okay, I’ve got it attached to my rope! I’m gonna need you to ease us up!”

“Right! Gotcha!” The Doctor shot up, nearly bumping his head on the underside of the floor. He pinched the tiny rope, the size of a thread to him, in two fingers and tugged. Hearing

Zepheera’s surprised cry, he halted.

“I said ease, not wrench!” she chastised.

“Sorry,” mumbled the Doctor, this time drawing the rope back slowly. He was extra careful when Zepheera and the screwdriver were almost out; she needed to align the probe so it would come out cleanly without crashing into the sides of the long, narrow gap. Once that was achieved, it emerged easily and the Doctor slipped his free hand underneath it.

After his companion dismounted the device, he scooped it up into his right hand, ignoring the rope still attached to it. He adjusted his grip and gave it a buzz. It was music to his ears.

“At last! My arm is complete again!” he exulted.

Zepheera’s fatigued mind had only begun to wonder if that was a reference to something when she found herself being lifted quickly to the Doctor’s face. To her chagrin, he planted an overjoyed kiss to the top of her head.

“You’re the best!” he proclaimed, beaming gratefully even as Zepheera ran her fingers through her dark bob to brush off the feeling his lips left behind.

“Don’t ever do that again,” she emphasized, scowling halfheartedly up at his stupid face. Little did she know the Doctor had only begun to display his gratitude toward his companion, and he drew her close once again.

At first, she worried that he was disregarding her wishes, so she threw her arms up to fend off another peck.

Instead, he pressed her to his cheek and thanked her over and over. Once the shock had worn off, she realized that what she’d done meant a lot more to the Doctor than she realized. She smiled and patted his cheek fondly.

“You’re welcome, big fella,” she murmured.

They stayed like this for a good while, until Zepheera broke the contented silence between them: “Now, I believe you owe me a cuppa.”

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