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.

Ao3 | Tumblr | Ask me questions! Send me prompts!

Brothers Consulted

brothersapart:

Series cowritten by the lovely @borrowedtimeandspace

The Study of the Four

Saving people, solving crimes
The flatmate business

Over a decade ago, a serious of unfortunate events led to the Winchesters, at only a few inches in height, being forcibly relocated to London. Now, they’ve adjusted to their size and found a new home to live in that just happens to be the same residence of a certain detective and his blogger…

Archive of Our Own || Fanfiction || Deviantart

Zepheera-Vision — I Don’t Wanna Go

image

Zepheera waited patiently for the Doctor to return to the TARDIS. This was his last stop, his last chance to see Rose Tyler, so it was understandable that he would be taking his time. But as the minutes dragged on, she began to wander the console aimlessly, wondering if something had happened to him.

A voice came to her head, giving her pause. They were singing in Latin. She had no idea where the song was coming from, but somehow she knew every word as they came, and who it was all for.

She didn’t realize she’d been singing along until the doors of the TARDIS opened and closed heavily, and she held her tongue. The Doctor leaned wearily on the doors. After a breath or two, he made his way up the slight incline to the main platform of the room, relying on the short railing. This alone sent an icy pang of worry through Zepheera’s stomach. 

The way he moved, even in an action as simple as shedding his coat and tossing it onto its typical support, made it clear to her that everything hurt. He hesitated, lifting his right hand to eye level. Regeneration energy flowed from it as he turned his wrist, watching golden streaks dance around his fingers. After a moment he curled the hand into a loose fist and let it hang by his side, turning to the console to lock eyes with his four and a half inch tall companion.

It wouldn’t be long now, and they both knew it.

“So…What happens now?” The borrower knew well enough by now the technical details of regeneration, but she wasn’t sure if she should say something meaningful or sing that song that was still going in the back of her head. She didn’t know if a goodbye was in order since he’d still be the Doctor at the end of the day, just a little different.

The Doctor made his way laboriously around the console, passing Zepheera by entirely. “Now…I’m taking you home,” he said steadily.

Zepheera followed him, frowning in confusion. Disregarding the fact that she didn’t have a home outside the TARDIS, she went straight for the important question.

“Why? Did I do something wrong?”

This stopped him in his tracks and he sighed deeply, lowering his gaze to the floor. “No, Zepheera, it’s not like that.”

“Then why can’t I stay?” she demanded.

“Because it’s not safe!” he snapped. He paused to catch his breath from the short outburst, then lowered himself to a kneel with evident effort. Then his brown eyes met her small deep violets. “I can feel it, Zepheera. I dunno how, but this one’s gonna be violent, I just know it. For all I know, I could destroy everything, and…I don’t want to risk you.”

Zepheera considered his words, never breaking eye contact. After a deep breath, she crossed her arms and planted her feet on the uneven surface of the console.

“I’ll be careful then,” she asserted. “You shouldn’t be alone for this. I always told you I’d be here for you, no matter what. That I’d never be afraid of you. I don’t care if you change your face, Doctor, I’m keeping that bloody promise.”

Even so, the Doctor looked conflicted, and his gaze wandered indecisively.

In the silence between them, Zepheera noticed the song in her head gaining momentum. Deciding it couldn’t hurt, she joined in with the chorus once again.

“Vale decem…”

The Doctor’s attention snapped back to the borrower. “You hear it, too,” he realized.

In answer, Zepheera smiled sadly as she sang. The words, though foreign to her, were a perfect representation of her feelings. It was a farewell, but also a comfort. The Doctor returned the smile and pushed himself to his feet. Clearly her mind would not be changed. And honestly, she was right. He needed the company.

Nunquam singularis…

He pulled the lever to send the TARDIS flying into orbit above the Earth. That gorgeous noise filled the air alongside the sound of the universe singing the Doctor to his sleep.

Nunquam…

He glanced down to find tears streaming down his small friend’s face, reaching a gentle hand to wipe them away. Zepheera, still singing, trembled at this contact, and before he could pull his finger away she grabbed hold of it, pulling it into a tight embrace.

Dum spiro fido…

It was only when his hand began to glow again that he pulled it away from her grasp. He ruffled her hair with a finger like he always used to, but without the usual humor, and walked to the other side of the console to separate himself from her. Zepheera just barely refrained from following, heeding his earlier warning, but as the chorus in her mind repeated vale over and over, she circled the other way to see his face one last time before it disappeared.

His breaths were shallow and his eyes were shining. “I don’t wanna go,” he declared, a small tremble in his voice. Regeneration energy surrounded his face and flowed from his hands with ever-growing intensity.

The song was over.


image

Celebrating 50 followers.

Part 1 | Part 2 coming tomorrow, more info to follow.


Asks and Prompts are open! | Submissions, too!

Zepheera-Vision — Midnight 4/4

[Spoilers for the climax of ‘Midnight’. Prepare for angst. You’ve been warned.]

image

Shock hit every single passenger at once as the shielded doors slammed shut. Val Cane sat down heavily in a nearby chair, her grip on Zepheera suddenly loosened. The borrower fell three feet and hit the floor hard. Ordinarily, this wouldn’t do her much damage, but she was already bruised and sensitive from the human’s tight grip. Her entire right side felt on fire. Anytime she tried to move, her whole body would ache in protest.

Less than a second after she landed, a greater impact shook the floor just ahead of her. Ignoring how much it hurt, she lifted her head to look. The Doctor had been released and fell forward, barely catching himself. His eyes and mouth were still wide from the scream he’d been mimicking, and he gasped at the sudden return of control over his own actions.

“It’s gone,” he breathed. “It’s gone, it’s gone…” He repeated the words over and over as he rolled onto his back, panting all the while.

Zepheera pushed herself to her feet with her good arm and limped closer to the Doctor in spite of her pain. At best, she was badly bruised, but none of that mattered. Her injuries would amount to nothing in a minute thanks to her healing factor. Right now the Doctor needed a friend, and none of these humans could come even close to fitting the bill.

She leaned her good side against his upper cheek, the only part of his face she could reach the way his back was arched and his body tensed. The muscles beneath her flinched faintly at her touch and the Doctor gave a surprised hiss. 

“It’s okay. It’s just me,” she whispered into his nearby ear, laying a tender hand near his sideburn. “I’m here, you’re gonna be alright.”

“It’s gone, it’s gone, it’s gone…”

“You’re damn right, it’s gone,” she agreed, jaw clenched in emotion and slowly fading pain. “It can’t get you anymore. I won’t let it. As long as I have anything to say about it, no one will touch you. That’s a promise, Doctor.”

Haltingly, the Doctor turned his head toward Zepheera, who pulled back so his wide eye could find her. Not knowing what else to do, she pressed herself against his cheekbone just below his eye, good arm extended in the best hug she could give. With a shaky sigh, the eye closed and he leaned into her tiny embrace, curling his trembling hand behind her in return. His eyelashes mingled with her short hair, and if she noticed she didn’t react. Slowly but surely, his body relaxed and he began to control his heavy breathing, wary of Zepheera as always.

Eventually the Doctor sat up and leaned on the side of a seat with the borrower nestled against his neck. They were across the aisle from Val Cane who, like everybody else in the van, was staring at them. While the Doctor continued to catch his breath and regain his composure, Zepheera looked Val up and down. This was the woman who had grabbed Zepheera without her consent, treated her like a child at best and a pet at worst, and had seemed intent on keeping her after the company had disposed of the Doctor. Even so, the look on the woman’s face gave Zepheera pause. She seemed repentant, and for one naive second Zepheera thought she’d gotten through to these humans. They all knew now that they had been wrong about the Doctor, and now perhaps Zepheera had proved that they were wrong about her. The Time Lord took care of her, yes, but she took care of him, too.

And in five words, Val Cane tore down every mite of hope in Zepheera.

“I said it was her,” she insisted, in reference to Sky.

Zepheera shot to her feet angrily because she most certainly had not–in fact, she had been the most vocal about getting rid of the Doctor! But before she could tell the enormous woman off the Doctor angled his head so his chin partially blocked her view of the human. Zepheera almost turned her wrath to him, but after seeing his clenched jaw and the way Val seemed to wither under his gaze, she realized the Doctor had made her point for her, only more poignantly without words.

Deciding to follow suit, Zepheera strode purposefully across the Doctor’s clavicle, pulled up his loosened collar and ducked underneath, pulling it down pointedly over herself. She curled up in the comforting dimness, allowing herself to pretend that the humans weren’t out there. Their silence made it easy. She could forget about them until they were all rescued from this broken-down wreck.


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Ao3 | Tumblr | Ask me questions! Send me prompts!

Zepheera-Vision — Midnight 3/4

[Spoilers for the climax of ‘Midnight’. Prepare for angst. You’ve been warned.]

image

For a moment, everything but the Doctor faded. Even the humans’ voices were dulled in Zepheera’s perception. But reality came crashing back in when flesh suddenly surrounded her, lifted her away, and she realized people were now calling with confidence and finality to throw the Doctor out.

“No, you can’t!” Zepheera struggled against the fingers of the human who held her.

The human–Jethro’s mother, Val–held the borrower firmly in a fist and shushed her like one would a small animal, stroking the back of Zepheera’s head and neck with the pad of her thumb. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, it’ll all be over soon.” This was the only thing she said softly; seconds later, she was barking at her husband to “get him out! I want him out! Throw him out!!”

Zepheera craned her neck to see what they were doing to the Doctor. The father had his arms crooked under the Doctor’s shoulders, and the only resistance he met with was the Doctor’s foot hooked around the bottom of a seat. A tiny bubble of hope rose in the borrower’s chest at the thought of the Time Lord fighting back. But one of the other humans, the professor, started to help the father, wrenching the foot from its hold. Zepheera struggled again, but the mother’s grip on her tightened.

Young Deedee was terribly overwhelmed, eyes darting from the mother to Zepheera and then the Doctor and back, covering her ears from all the shouting going on; with her arms pinned to her sides, Zepheera envied her that luxury. Jethro seemed emotionally conflicted at first, but eventually pitched in to carry the Doctor out after his parents had chastised him harshly. The hostess, who initially protested, was torn. And all the while, Sky cheered them on and the Doctor copied every word.

“Molto bene!” she cried triumphantly, catching both the hostess and Zepheera’s attention. The Doctor parroted his own catchphrase.

“You see!” Zepheera called in hopes she’d be heard in all the noise. “It’s not him, it’s her! That’s his voice she’s using!” This earned Zepheera a brief glance from the hostess, who turned her diligent attention to Sky.

“Allons-y!” “Allons-y!”

Now there was no mistaking it. The hostess understood the truth, and that was all Zepheera needed. 

“SHE’S TAKEN HIS VOICE!”

With determination, the woman tackled Sky against the emergency exit, smashing down the glass-shielded button without hesitation.

Six seconds of screaming and brilliant X-tonic light later, Sky and the hostess were sucked out of the vehicle, disappearing into Midnight forever.


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Ao3 | Tumblr | Ask me questions! Send me prompts!

Zepheera-Vision — Midnight 2/4

[Spoilers for the climax of ‘Midnight’. Prepare for angst. You’ve been warned.]

image

All eyes turned to Zepheera. She had been relatively quiet the entire trip, taking all the Doctor’s warnings to heart. Unless she had something that needed saying she simply observed, and when she did speak it was either to or in defense of the Doctor. Now, with her cheeks streaked with angry tears, it was finally her turn to shout.

“No one is throwing anybody off this truck, especially not him! Can’t you see he’s the victim in all this? I guess not, since the last thing you want to do is help him when he needs it the most! The charity of the human race!”

“The little one…” Sky mused, cutting off Zepheera’s tirade.
The little one…” the Doctor repeated beyond his own control.

“She’s like his pet.” “She’s like his pet.” “So loyal…and foolish.” “So loyal…and foolish.” “Poor dear, thinks the Doctor is a good man…” “Poor dear, thinks the Doctor is a good man…” “And can’t understand what’s happened to him.” “And can’t understand what’s happened to him.

“That’s it, he’s brainwashed the little thing!” Biff Cane asserted.

“She’s not a thing!” cried Dee Dee, the student, in Zepheera’s defense.

“That’s enough, Dee Dee,” the professor barked at his assistant. “It’s only a logical assumption. With a brain mass such as hers, she’s bound to be, shall we say, impressionable,” he surmised, addressing the whole company.

“I reckon she’s working with him,” Cane intoned, pointing at Zepheera accusingly. “He’s probably trained her up to believe him, do whatever he says! They’ve been in cahoots the whole time!”

“Don’t be stupid, I am not brainwashed! I am four times your age and perfectly capable of thinking on my own! Unlike some!”

“You listen here, you little–!”

“Dad, leave her alone!” Jethro Cane interjected, the dark broody teenager staring down his father.

“That’s how he does it.” “That’s how he does it.” “He makes you fight…” “He makes you fight…” “Creeps into your head…” “Creeps into your head…” “And whispers…” “And whispers…” “Listen…” “Listen…” “Just listen…” “Just listen…

Zepheera was listening, and each word Sky made the Doctor say broke her heart a little more.

“That’s him.” “That’s him.

With each repetition, the Time Lord’s jaw clenched a little harder, the tremors that seized his body worsened and his eyes brimmed with tears. The Doctor was fighting it, but he was losing.

“Inside.” “Inside.

The hopelessness of the situation hit Zepheera like a train and she fell to her knees, tears welling up in her eyes. Why do I have to be so damn USELESS?? 

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, praying the Doctor could still hear her. “I tried, they won’t listen, I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry…”


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Ao3 | Tumblr | Ask me questions! Send me prompts!

Zepheera-Vision — Midnight 1/4

[This is an alternate ‘Midnight’. Due to the intensity, I wanted to give this one closure. Spoilers for the climax of the episode. Prepare for angst. You’ve been warned.]


Taking a big space truck full of strangers across a diamond planet called Midnight? What could possibly go wrong?

Everything.

image

“Doctor!” Zepheera cried, climbing along the bottom of an uprooted seat to look him in the eye. But he couldn’t look back. He sat on the floor trembling, unseeing eyes more full of fear than Zepheera had ever seen in them before. 

If there was one thing you learn when you sit on a man’s shoulder, it’s how much that man moves. The Doctor was always moving–always–and now he was terrifyingly still. If he could have budged, like his eyes told her he desperately wanted to, he would have. She clutched at her hair in frustration. She wanted to help, needed to, but what could she do? She couldn’t move him on her own or save him from physical harm, she was four and a half inches tall! 

For once, she wished Donna were around. The loud, boisterous human would make quick work of slapping sense into the other six, who were still arguing about what they were going to do to the Doctor. All they had done the entire time was bicker and yell, giving the borrower the worst headache. And the seventh, that Sky woman…As though she could read her mind, she stared coldly down at Zepheera with the faintest of smirks.

Now the yelling was so loud it blocked out Zepheera’s thoughts. At the very least, a couple of the humans were sticking up for the Doctor, but they were quickly shut down. One more look into the Doctor’s eyes–utterly petrified, begging for help the only way he could–and Zepheera’d had enough of these humans.

“Would you all just SHUT UP!!” she shrieked.


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

Ao3 | Tumblr | Ask me questions! Send me prompts!

Zepheera-Vision — Cats (4/4)

image

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4


In the depths of the TARDIS, a black and white tuxedo cat lounged on a table. It had just woken up from a three-hour nap and thoroughly groomed itself when a small grey tabby kitten appeared in front of it, drawing its attention. The kitten mewed at the cat, crying for help as it was lifted even higher. The cat watched lazily as the man underneath the kitten slowly straightened and removed the kitten from his head, staring at the cat owlishly as he did so.

This room, as well as several others throughout the TARDIS, was crawling with cats of varying ages and breeds, the younger ones nipping at the Doctor’s ankles while the older ones kept a nonchalant eye on the Time Lord. Such had been the state of the TARDIS for about a week.

“Doctor!” a hushed voice rang out somewhere above his head. His eyes darted around looking for the source, ending the staring contest between him and the cat–which he rather resembled in his black suit and white button-down.

“Up here!” the voice hissed again, leading him to look up at the air vent high up in the wall above the table. Seeing who was calling him, the Doctor grinned without reaching his eyes.

“Zepheera!” exclaimed the Time Lord, shifting the kitten in his hands to a shoulder as he climbed up onto the table. This put him at perfect eye level with the vent. 

“I haven’t seen you in days!” he remarked, seemingly emotionally unaffected by this fact. “How’ve you been? Are you eating well?” He stuck his fingers through the slats, as though trying to reach the very small woman inside the vent, but they were too big to make it past their second joints. But the borrower, all four and a half inches of her, would make quick work of the small space, he thought absently.

Zepheera scrambled back a few inches deeper into the vent at the approach of his digits. “Don’t do that!” she scolded, masking her fear.

The Doctor blinked slowly, a slight frown pinching just above glazed eyes. The fingers withdrew until their tips rested at the bottom of the vent’s opening, allowing him a place to rest his chin as he peered into the vent. “Zepheera, what’s the matter?”

She had to bite back a scoff at that. It should’ve been rather obvious to him why she was so wary, why she had spent the last few days hiding out in the depths of a ship she’d come to call home, sneaking food from the kitchens the few chances she got. If she were honest, a small part of her had missed living like this, like a proper borrower; but the illusion was broken by the need to hide from her best friend and the legion of cats he’d brought on board.

“I’ve contacted Torchwood,” she informed him rather than answering his question. “Captain Jack Harkness, you once told me he could be trusted. The TARDIS is set to pilot itself to their headquarters as soon as it receives their signal.”

“What’d you do that for?” asked the Doctor, more curious than concerned.

“Because I can’t very well fly this hunk of metal myself, can I?” Zepheera snapped, crossing her arms. “I’ve half a mind to make you teach me, once you’ve got half a mind.”

The Doctor tilted his head, clearly confused, and the little grey tabby mewed and crossed to his other shoulder.

“Look…You’re not yourself, Doctor,” she explained, placing her hands on her hips. “I don’t know if it’s the cats or the planet we were on or something else, but this isn’t you. And I just. Can’t. Handle this. Not on my own.”

For all her efforts to make him understand, she received a pair of big brown puppy-dog eyes in return. “No no, but the cats are friendly!” he insisted, breaking her heart a little more with each word. “I’m sure they’d be friends with you, too, if you’d just–”

He was cut off by the borrower suddenly lunging forward until her little fists slammed into the metal slats of the vent. The Doctor flinched back in surprise, blinking at her sudden outburst. Zepheera forced herself to slow her breathing, calm herself down, remind herself that it wasn’t the Doctor talking–not really.

“I would never befriend a cat!” she practically spat, venom coloring each word. “Not after what happened to Kernel…” Her voice trailed off at the mention of his name, and she squeezed her eyes shut to push back the memories and tears. He had only been ten years old…

“Your brother,” the Doctor replied at length.

Zepheera’s head snapped up. “Yes. You remember him, you remember me telling you about that!” Despite the grisly memories this situation had roused, Zepheera smiled for the first time in a week. “It’s still you.”

The Doctor didn’t respond; his brow was knit tightly together, as though he were trying to remember how exactly he knew what he’d said. Before he could even think about answering the borrower, the TARDIS rumbled and the familiar sound of the engines in flight rang throughout the beautiful machine.

“That’ll be Jack,” she remarked, backing away from the vent slowly. “I have to go. We’ll be there soon, and I’ve got to show them where you are.” Having warned him fairly, she turned to go.

“Wait!” the Doctor called after her. “Why won’t you come out? It’s all they want, and it’s all I want, so would you just…come out? Please? You don’t have to hide.”

Zepheera kept walking despite the chillingly familiar words, never once breaking her stride. “I’ll stop hiding once you understand why I have to.”


Asks and Prompts are open! | Submissions too!

Zepheera-Vision — I Was Lonely

“Zepheera?”

The borrower in question shot the Doctor a look before ignoring him, carrying on twisting a few pieces of string into a stronger rope.

“Zepheera…” he tried again, licking his lips as though in preparation. “…I need to get up.” Despite himself, a twinge of mirth tugged at his lips.

“Funny, that,” scoffed Zepheera as she looked up from her work. “That’s not what you said two hours ago.”

“But I have to–”

“‘Zepheera, I’m bored. Sit with me, Zepheera. Keep me company.’”

The Doctor sighed, an action that blew the borrower’s already messy bob about. “I know, I know. But I’ve got to check on the experiment, it should be ready by now.”

Zepheera threw up the hand that wasn’t keeping her progress on the rope in place. “Just saying. It’s your own fault for scooping me up and putting me on the pillow on top of you.”

“I was lonely,” he shrugged, making Zepheera’s perch shift back and forth slightly.

She regarded the Doctor in contemplation, but after a moment of staring at those big brown puppy-dog eyes her shoulders slumped in defeat. Gathering her work, she slid off the small pillow that she would never ever admit was actually quite comfortable, and made her way up his chest toward his shoulder. 

“One of these days, you’re gonna run out of trump cards,” she informed him, pointing an accusing finger at the Doctor’s stupid grin.


New Zepheera-Vision every Saturday! Hope you enjoyed!

#10 for the sentence prompts. (also – if you’re taking hiatus from Ao3, will you continue to post stories on here or is it a hiatus from writing in general?)

Basically, Ao3 is the main place I post my writing. The problem is, I take it chapter by chapter rather than finishing a story before thinking about posting, and it turns out I’m a rather busy person. This means that my updates on Ao3 are usually really slow and irregular. I once went over a year between updates! I want to break out of this, and the only way I know how is to take a break from posting there until I have my shit together on that.

The Ao3 hiatus will officially start after the stories I currently have going are done.

I’ll still be writing, also revising some of my older stories, giving updates if you guys are interested.

The good news is, with this blog I can keep my followers updated on how writing’s going, and I can have fun with and glean inspiration from my followers. I am open to posting short stories and fun little things that deviate from the canon of my series here. (I actually have a really angsty Zepheera-Vision queued up that was so long I had to split it up into four parts! Gonna hold off on that until a few more fluffy ones are established…)

Hope that clears that up for you! Anyways, here’s your filled prompt!


Every part of Zepheera ached. Her whole body tingled with pins and needles, her head was pulsing, and when she opened her eyes her vision was blurred. That was no doubt from the flash of bright light she remembered experiencing before blacking out. Squeezing her eyes shut in attempt to banish the colorless blob in the way of her sight, she rolled over onto her back with a hiss of discomfort. Pins and needles…

Zepheera, her own voice sounded so distant in her mind. She ignored it, concentrating instead on the feeling slowly returning in her fingertips.

A small clatter from the floor behind her caught her attention, but her headache prevented her from looking. “Zepheera,” her voice called again.

She groaned, then stopped halfway through the action. That groan…didn’t sound like her own. It was deeper than she was used to, more guttural. Her hand went automatically to her throat, where she felt more than just a strange lump where before there was none. She felt a speeding and irregular pulse through the more-weathered-than-usual skin.

Gasping sharply, she bolted upright, immediately bonking her head with a yelp of surprise that wasn’t hers.

“Oi, careful! Easy on the goods there, luv!”

She turned her head toward the shrill voice a little too fast, dizziness causing the floor to approach rapidly; she just barely caught herself with a tingling forearm. Now her eyes were wide, adjusting much too slowly for her liking as she looked around for the speaker. Shapes and colors were much more clear to her now, but details were lacking and nothing seemed familiar.

“That’s it. We just all need to keep a calm head about this, okay?”

That’s when it hit her. She shifted her gaze down toward the floor and paled at the sight of herself. Like looking into a mirror, but the reflection was far too small. Everything snapped into focus in that instant, revealing details in this tiny double that looked odd on herself. Her arms were raised placatingly, brow pinched with a slight raise in the left one, mouth animatedly open as her chest heaved with unusually high breaths.

“Zepheera…” her tiny double’s tone was warning, in anticipation of some kind of negative reaction.

Suddenly it sank in. Only one person talked to her like that, and it certainly wasn’t herself.

Zepheera’s eyes darted to the hand she now owned, so much larger than the small figure before her. It was a hand she knew all too well, and as her panic rose it became impossible to ignore the thundering beat on the right side of her chest that echoed the left.

She shot to her feet in a complete knee-jerk reaction, but this only made matters worse. Now she was faced with the stark height difference between her proper body–all four and a half inches of it–and all seventy-three inches of her current body. She staggered backward, staring down at the frighteningly familiar blue suit she now wore, and tripping on converse-clad feet in her haste. She crashed roughly against the floor.

A grunt of effort rang out and she turned to look. Not six inches away from her right foot, her old body’s legs were dangling through the grate of the catwalk, a clear result of having fallen over thanks to the impact of the body Zepheera currently inhabited. She balked, aghast at how much weight she was responsible for now, and how easily influenced the small body that now housed the Doctor’s consciousness–a mind-blowing concept in itself–really was.

The Doctor quickly hauled himself out of the gap and started carefully toward Zepheera, intent on comforting her, reassuring her. She backed away from his approach.

“Go away!” she shouted in the Doctor’s voice, cringing when she saw her body wince at the volume. Her back met the cool metal of the railing around the console, and she curled herself into the tightest ball the Doctor’s body would allow. When she spoke again, it was practically in a whisper. “I’m too big. I might hurt you.”


Thanks for the prompt @elitefourstevonnie!