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@susanforeman
#susanforeman. highly selective, low activity portrayal of susan foreman from bbc's doctor who. canon compliant (television and extended universe) with headcanon influences. written by archer since 2013.
fighting a losing battle, knowing you love each other without saying it, outrunning your past, putting up walls, blaming others for your mistakes, being alone
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NEW starter call (previous ones will be .. ignored.. cuz idk who's still active 😞)
NEW starter call (previous ones will be .. ignored.. cuz idk who's still active 😞)
THE TARDIS HAS A GHOST . . .
“Did you hear that?” Tegan asked, struggling to suppress a groan when she turned to find Adric and Nyssa engrossed in a conversation about something utterly boring. She made sure to walk loudly as she approached them, then crossed her arms. “We’re never going to get back if you two won’t stay focused. We’ll die back here and the Doctor will never find us!” “Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” Adric sneered, but Nyssa took a lighter approach. “I’m sure we’re nearly there.” Tegan shook her head. “No. This doesn’t feel right. You’re really telling me you didn’t hear anything?” “Was it the Doctor?” “Or did you imagine it? You’re too jumpy, Tegan.” She rolled her eyes. They weren’t helpful. Was she the only one who actually cared about finding the console room? Probably. It was Adric who got them lost in the first place. “Whatever. Come on, this way.”
. . . IT HAS NEVER FELT HOSTILE
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@yoakkemae liked for a starter
" he's too far behind. we just need to get to one of those ships. "
everybody kept dying. no matter what she did -- no matter how far she ran -- death kept pace. the war was over. it was gone, literally, and yet everywhere she went the bodies kept pilinh up.
over the years, susan had become a lot more rational. at times, too rational, to the point that it almost seemed uncaring. the master killed david. alex and lucie sacrificed themselves to save earth. the daleks killed those soldiers. gallifrey was lost to the moment. it was a militia staging the coup that everyone was running from now. this wasn't her fault. she didn't do this. she might have gotten herself too involved, but she wasn't the one brandishing guns and shooting innocent people.
she knew this to be true and yet she couldn't help the thought that her very presence brought death along with it.
the planet was going down in flames. this was always going to happen. it had been stupid of her to think that she could change a fixed point; that she could save this planet form its inevitable doom. all she did was insert herself in the events that led up to this moment. she'd process the fact that she helped cause all this later (or, rather, she'd push all that down too and it would come out in some explosion later). there was nothing left to do but escape.
she came here to save the planet. she failed. but she was going to save someone whether they wanted to be saved or not.
despite her short stature, susan was very strong. it was easy for her to grab the woman by the forearm and push her towards one of the escape pods. even with all the commotion going on -- yelling, trampling, crying -- she could hear the woman's protests about her friend being caught up somewhere behind them. there was no loss of grip as the stranger tried to pull away from her, and with a rough shove she got her into the pair-sized shuttle.
she'd pulled down and latched the door before the woman could run back into the crowd. the pod was extremely cramped with two seats back-to-back. susan had climbed over to the front and immediately started messing with the controls, and within seconds there was the sound of whirring as the engine started up. she didn't look back at the stranger who she had, in a way, kidnapped. even before they got into the shuttle, she didn't really get a good look at her -- she just grabbed the nearest person who wasn't already running and decided that she was going to save her.
" if he makes it out, your friend will know to meet you at empire city on prylan. it's the rendezvous point when things like this happen over in this sector. " if martha had been speaking, susan had completely tuned her out while figuring out how to fly the ship. she didn't turn to martha as she spoke, even now that the pod had lifted into the air. she kept her focus forward as they took off, a bunch of other small ships zipping past them.
there was a moment where she thought to apologize. it was highly unlikely this person's friend made it.
but she didn't say anything further. she might have been sorry for the death of this person's friend, but she wasn't sorry for saving her. she was right to take her, even if martha didn't want to come.
she just had to save someone.
anyone.
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She can't be dying. Once she dies, she'll--die. That can't happen. @susanforeman can't die. How could she die? She's his family. She's all he has left, at least when it comes to family. And, well...he's not exactly overflowing with friends at the moment, is he? There's a small little man here to watch him, and a deeply complicated friend in the basement, and...that's it. He's lost everyone else, and he can't lose her. He's lost her before as they've come in and out of each other's lives, but it's always been with the hope that it wouldn't be the last time. Now there would be no hope. There would be no Susan.
"How can it be?" he says softly. He is old, so, so old, but right now he feels like a child. He feels young and childish and sad. He feels scared. For everything the Doctor has done, and everything he's faced, death is the thing that he's never been able to face. Not his own, not anyone's, and certainly not hers. Anyone's but hers. He'd die his own death a thousand times in order to avoid hers. So how can it possibly be okay? He doesn't know, of course, what she's thinking, or just how closely his thoughts are mirroring hers. But even telepathic ability doesn't tell him this, not now, not here. Still, his lips purse, and he smiles, just barely. "You're a little too much like me in that respect."
They're both too reckless. It is a wonder that she's still alive. It's a wonder that he's still alive, too, but he's died many, many times. She has the worst of him, but she has the best of him, too. She is the best of him. She always has been. Even in the war, with the anger, she was the best of him.
She starts, and he waits, but nothing more comes. No great speech, nothing, just a few words that express a deep, simple fear. She doesn't want to be alone. Not when she dies. She wants to be here, with him, and it makes his hearts ache.
"Well," he says softly. "Here I am."
the problem with dying was that it rarely went as expected. susan didn't know how to die. she had no experience with it. well, she had tons of experience with it -- only recently had their faces stopped haunting her -- but not for herself. she always assumed it would be instantaneous; she wouldn't see it coming. she'd be shot or stabbed or go down in a burning rocket. the likelihood of dying a slow death when her life had been so full of opportunities for mishaps was so low that she hadn't even truly considered it a possibility until now. yet here she was, dying, essentially, of old age.
life was certainly ironic.
she liked that about life. there was so much to like about life, so why had she spent so long being miserable? she focused so much of her attention on being angry that she forgot to leave any time to think about the good that was out there. she pushed away any good that tried to come to her. she lost everything, that much was true, but it didn't mean she had to have nothing forever. she'd come to this realization too late; a deathbed epiphany.
at his words, tears rolled down her cheeks, and for a brief moment she felt embarrassment at the fact she was crying. going into this, she had expected that she'd have a better handle on her emotions. there had been a million scenarios where she knew she could die and it didn't faze her, yet when she knew it would happen all of a sudden she was a mess. she had wanted to be strong in front of the doctor. why? why did she still care about putting on this front?
there was so much to learn and unlearn and see and experience and feel and she wasn't going to get to do any of it. she wanted to be accepting of her fate and not have any regrets but as she looked at the doctor all she could think was why did i hide from you for so long?
she knew better than most that people rarely got to end their story with everything all tied up in a neat bow. she'd started that process, but there was still so much work that would go unfinished. she had yet to truly work through her guilt, or process what she'd lost. she wouldn't get to do that, but it was okay. at least she got closure on this chapter. she'd avoided the doctor for so long and for such silly reasons now that she truly thought about it, but at least he was here with her. he knew that she cared about him. she couldn't die and have his last memories of her be one of her lashing out.
this wasn't gallifrey. they weren't the same people. yet it had come back full circle. the doctor and susan.
even just sitting up had been taxing on her body. she wanted to reach out to him, she wanted to be held like she was still a child and not thousands and thousands of years old. but now that she was here it was all progressing too rapidly and just moving to achieve that felt like climbing a mountain. she ended up just laying back in the chair.
she was scared, yes, and as much as she hated that feeling -- as much as she wanted to be content with what was happening -- she just let herself feel it. it didn't matter that she was scared. he told her that, before, when she was little. it's okay to be afraid. you just have to be brave despite it. she could be brave. she had to be brave.
her eyes drooped shut. she was so tired.
it was too difficult to talk, but he knew. he had to know.
she loved him.
@alllonsy liked for a starter
" carry on through. "
" this is no way to treat anyone, is it? " susan asked, tugging at the monitoring device that had been clamped around her neck. it didn't hurt, but it was on very snug. " you won't even tell us what's going on. "
" carry on through, " the lizard-esque guard repeated, indicating to another guard near an open door. past it was a holding room -- a large, open area full of people who wore similar neckpieces. the only way in and out of that room was through the well-monitored door.
" i'll be expecting a refund, " she told the other guard as she finally allowed herself to be shepherded into the room. naturally, the guard didn't care, susan's complaint lost within a sea of hundreds of similar complaints and anxieties currently being voiced. susan didn't actually care, either (where would they refund the money? she'd snuck onto the cruise), but it was good to keep up the appearance of being just as disgruntled as everyone else. especially when she was the one who called the ruxcattalian security brigade in the first place.
the security brigade had been quick to jump on her call. clearly, something she reported rung a bell, since she would have just been ignored if it hadn't. she'd been able to piece together that some sort of assassination was going to take place, and it involved multiple different people of multiple different species. she had no faith that involving the ruxcattalian would actually stop anything from happening; it just bought her enough time to investigate this whole thing properly.
there were a few people who were definitely involved, including the huddled mass of insectoids at the far end of the room. luckily, they paid her no mind as she made her way to a corner with an advantageous view, alone, rather than mingling with the others. besides them, there were a few others she had suspicions of being involved. all she had to do was figure out what the plan was, who was actually involved, and put a stop to it, all without being caught by those people for having been the one to report what was going on. easy.
clearly, the insectoids had no suspicions of her; they didn't even look in her direction. in fact, very few people seemed to mind her presence at all, most people much more engaged in trying to figure out why the cruise had been stopped and they were brought here. it made it rather easy for her to watch everyone, and tune into conversations.
that was, until another man entered the room, having been processed like everyone else. he was one of the people she had been suspicious of but wasn't certain was involved -- she'd seen him going places he shouldn't have been going, and he seemed overly-enthused about the idea of talking with the other guests, but she couldn't get anything definitive out of that. he had been low on her list of priorities before, but as the tall, brunette man entered the room and made eye contact with her, the priority quickly went up.
she was the one who eventually looked away when he didn't immediately break the stare. she knew that look of recognition; of somebody who very likely knew that she was the one who'd reported this. abandoning the corner, she disappeared into the crowd, forcing herself into some strangers' conversation with a friendly smile. occasionally, she glanced over her shoulder, tracking the stranger's movement.
starter call! feel free to dm me if you'd rather plot :)
no, i'm not coming with you. i'm going to go and fight. i've already seen the daleks off this planet twice. if gallifrey loses this war, they'll come again. i can't just wait for it to happen. not when i could be doing something to stop it.
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@lightcreators pour 10
c'était familier. peut-être ça, c'était pourquoi elle a pas tenté de s'échapper. pas parce qu'elle voulait pas s'échapper -- elle aime pas d'être attrapée. elle la deteste, en fait -- mais c'était difficile de se concentrer. en vérité, la prison était pas bien gardée. elle était soldat, elle savait comment utiliser les choses qui l'entouraient; comment se battre si nécessaire. la technologie était pas avancée. il serait très facile de sortir de la cellule, et pourtant elle est restée là.
" DITES-NOUS OÙ SONT LES COFFRES-FORTS D'ARMES. " le dalek a dit. c'était pendant la guerre. ou... c'était asteur? la torture des daleks a été terrible. elle a changé son point de vue sur la guerre. sur la vie. jusqu'à aujourd'hui, elle sait pas combien longtemps elle a été torturée. elle s'en souvient -- tous. chaque moment -- mais son cerveau la laisse pas penser au sujet trop longtemps. " DITES-NOUS, OU NOUS ALLONS TUER CE SOLDAT. " elle connaissait pas son nom. il était juste un garçon...
personne l'a touché ici. c'était pas une situation où elle allait être blessée. les gardes l'ont surprise en train de se faufiler, et asteur elle était dans la cellule en attendant de parler au chef de la prison. très probablement, après avoir expliqué pourquoi elle est ici, il la libérera avec la condition qu'elle quitte la ville. les gens ici ont pas été le type à torturer -- la planète entière était en paix.
mais elle a eu peur. beaucoup de peur. c'était pas justifié -- et elle a pas peur pour beaucoup de choses qui le méritent; choses qui peuvent réellement la tuer -- mais ses yeux étaient grands, sa respiration était faible. son esprit était pas ici. c'était dans la guerre, torturé par les daleks.
parce qu'elle arrivait pas à se concentrer, trop distrait par le sentiment qu'elle va mourir, elle a pas remarqué l'homme qui est passé devant sa cellule. même quand il s'est arrêté et retourné pour la regarder, elle a pas repondu. elle était assise là, trop occupée par les flashbacks pour realiser que son grand-père était là. son grand-père qu'elle a pas revu depuis la guerre, où se trouve son esprit en ce moment.
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❛ ────here comes trouble, [ ... ] ❜ with a low hum from the nose, the last of the time lords tilts his silver-haired head upon the prickle of presence that dances over the length of his shoulders. glitter-polished onyx guitar situated in his lap, he runs the pick over strings to the vague tune of another brick in the wall by pink floyd .. ( 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖, )
❛ shall we begin with where you've been running amok all this time? or is that the sort of thing you're not likely to share with your immeasurably cool, startlingly youthful-looking grandfather? ❜
@susanforeman 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚢. 🪐
the tight, hot feeling in her chest at the doctor's words was unavoidable. even as he softened the blow with a quip about his appearance, it was hard to tamp down the ugly sort of rage she felt at any statement that could construed as accusatorial. her fingers twitched, wanting to curl into a fist, but she managed to push through the feeling and remain unmoved.
" no, it's not, " she replied simply. observing the doctor didn't really tell her much about where he'd been running amok. the last time she'd seen him was during the war. he'd been in his eighth incarnation then, the same one who had been with her when her son died. ever since gallifrey's destruction, the telepathic web that had connected all gallifreyans was incredibly weak. back then, just seeing him she would have automatically known what number incarnation he was on, but now they'd have to spend time together, rebuild that psychic bond, for that to be the case. it didn't help that both of them had some pretty strong mental walls up.
at the very least, she got the feeling that he was somewhat far removed from the last version of him she'd known. why she felt that way she couldn't put into words, but there was something about him that indicated he wasn't close to the person she'd known. perhaps it was the fact that there was actually some life in his eyes now. it was true that he appeared older, with his lined face and gray hair, but he'd found purpose. he moved on.
susan hadn't moved on, mentally or physically. susan wasn't a time lord; she knew she couldn't regenerate. she still looked like a young woman, so long as nobody looked too hard. her body wasn't meant to last this long. she was falling apart, weak. eventually -- soon -- she would die, and then everything she did would be for nothing. she'd darkened her soul during the time war and they didn't even win. she was terrified of dying.
that didn't matter now. like all her other problems, she'd deal with it another day.
" you knew i was looking for you. " statement, not a question. she found a chair and sat gently. its hard to hide the relief that comes with sitting; the fact that she really needed it. she might not have been about to fall down that very moment, but she was always so tired. it was part of her, and it was getting worse. " i need your help. " she didn't look at him as she said this, instead focusing on the gentle strumming. " i wouldn't be here if it was something i could do myself. "
@carbondated liked for a starter
" when is an apple not just an apple? " the bright red fruit was easily flicked into the air, then caught in the woman's other hand and brought to her mouth with a loud crunch. as the sweet juice filled her mouth, she couldn't help a small smile. that was different. she didn't like sweets before. didn't hate them, but never craved them, either. she mentally added 'sweet tooth' to her running list of differences between her first incarnation and this one. it was still so new. there was so much to learn.
casting the apple aside, she pressed against the low forked branch of a tree. she watched over the stranger's shoulder as she collected a sample of the soil. " when it's a variety that has ever only grown on earth in a very specific time period, yet is found fresh as a daisy on a planet three galaxies over, one and a half millennium in the past. " this, too, was new. this toying around the point. playing with it before getting where she needed to. her past self had such a sense of urgency -- about everything. this was a mystery, not an emergency. she wanted to have fun. deserved it. needed it, even. because life was more than just goodbyes and she had forgotten that for a long time.
" you're part of that day-trip expedition, aren't you? the one to show those students the ropes? " she ducked under the branch, then leaned against it, now on the same side as the stranger. she tilted her head with a smirk. " i don't suspect they love when people break off from the group, student or not. "
That made sense, and Romana immediately regretted her thoughtless question. She had read through the Doctor's file - before agreeing to travel with him, after she had become President, and one final time after becoming Coordinator. She had known that Susan - Arkytior - had been a child when she had left Gallifrey.
Yet here she was, fighting. Vulnerable.
Romana's thoughts turned to Leela, and then to Narvin.
It didn't seem fair that some should get second chances, while others were kept from them. How long would it be until Romana had to watch the people she loved die before her?
"Once, yes."
She forced her mind to focus on Arkytior's question. It was just a shame that she couldn't provide much. Even now that she factually knew what had happened, Romana didn't remember her death. She generally prefered not to think about it; knowing that such a significant part of her life was missing from her was... disturbing.
Perhaps she would speak to Braxiatel about it, whenever she next saw him.
...More likely, she wouldn't.
"It's not really a death." Romana spoke words that she didn't truly believe. "It was... nice, in a way, to walk away with a new face; a new life."
" mm… " arkytior hummed. naturally, she did not buy into romana's seeming indifference regarding regeneration. even if it wasn't something she had ever nor would ever do, she'd been around regeneration enough to know that it was rarely 'nice.' even the most expected regeneration often brought with it some level of trauma. romana denied that it was actually a death, but the only difference arkytior actually saw was that at least with death it's all done and over with; with regeneration, you actually have to work through processing your feelings not only about what happened, but what's going to happen moving forward.
arkytior was terrified of dying. everyone was, deep down, or at least that's what she figured. it wasn't a fear she could rationalize, because she meant it when she said it would be peaceful. afterwards. it was more the unknown factor of it all. she wouldn't avoid it and she wouldn't acknowledge the sick feeling she got whenever she thought "this might be it," but it was still there. she was glad that when it finally did happen, she wouldn't have to wake up again and deal with all that.
she sighed, then rocked to stand up. " well, i guess i won't be finding out today. " she offered a hand to romana, pulling her to her feet. " you're not supposed to be out here. " she looked off in the distance, then shrugged. it wasn't entirely clear where they were, so any direction, really, was fine to start in. " i think the rest of my unit left; it's not the first time i've been assumed dead. who else knows you're here? "
@butterflygardcn asked: [ STRUGGLE ] for one muse to resist being hugged but then break down and crumble against the other.
it was silly and stupid to love when everything she held dear was just sand in her hands. sometimes they trinkled away slowly through gaps between fingers, sometimes a whole bunch fell away as she opened her palm. the doctor leaving her, david and alexander being killed, the rest of her children dying in various human ways -- that had been a slow trinkle. spaced out where she could almost trick herself into believing that it was bearable. and then it was all at once. at first she thought it might kill her, being surrounded by constant death, but she tightened her fist. if she didn't love as easy, she wouldn't lose as easy, either. she couldn't care about the individual soldier or civilian because they likely would not be here tomorrow, and all that would do was hurt her. and even then, even when she only let herself care for one person, they slipped away, too. it wasn't even ceremonial; veklin's grain fell to the ground with everyone else.
but he was like a pebble. no matter how many times she let the sand fall from one hand to the other, filtering out bit-by-bit, he was always too stubborn to be deflected. it was a nuisance at first, or so she thought, but his tenancity paid off. here he was, and she wasn't going to turn him away this time.
" i'm fine… " how did he always catch her when she was least expecting it? there could be something going on that had 'doctor' written all over it at which he wouldn't turn up, but now, when she thought she was alone, here he was. she didn't have to turn to know it was him, and she didn't. her whispered acknowledgement was the only one he got, susan leaning against the rail overlooking the grassy, windswept field far below. she wasn't sure what she saw in it -- she wasn't even really looking at it, lost in her own thoughts -- but she couldn't look away. it was a far drop. it was beautiful. she could see herself down there.
when his arms wrapped around her, susan's immediate response was to try to free herself. if she actually felt threatened it would be quite easy for her to knock him away, but as it were she simply tried to push him off. his hands were tight on her back, however, so after she tried leaning back she was pressed against him. " i said i'm fine, " she huffed, standing rigidly when he didn't let go.
her head was still turned to look out at the field as she stood tensely in his arms. she didn't like this. she didn't want him here. she just wanted to be alone. it wasn't like it was hard. when he wasn't here, nobody else was. it was something she was used to. silence. when was the last time she'd been held like this? when was the last time he'd held her like this? she couldn't remember when she'd let him. maybe it was right after alex died. she needed him then. she'd always needed him, even when she insisted she didn't. even now, after everything, she needed her grandfather.
the tears were a surprise even to herself, and she hid her face against his chest. it wasn't loud crying, she didn't even make a noise, yet it was still embarrassing when she felt the droplets falling down her cheeks. there wasn't necessarily a hug back, but she did tuck her arms under herself as he held her close. this wasn't like her. it couldn't be like her, because this, what was happening here, was dangerous. it was vulnerable and thus could be used against her. yet she couldn't stop. did it even matter? the war was over and everyone was gone, so what did she care about keeping herself safe?
it was a long plummet from where they stood to the field below. it was a good thing the doctor held her tightly.
" you didn't have to come here. " her voice didn't indicate that she'd been crying, the only effect being that it was slightly muffled from how she held her forehead against him while looking at the ground. " you don't even know who i am. "
𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 ?
regret.
You create from regret. At times you feel as though you might drown in your remorse. It weighs heavy on your mind, and you feel you must confess them somehow. That is what your art is: a confession of your regrets. It is an outlet for the mistakes and missed chances that haunt you. You engrave them into your work so that they will not consume your every waking moment. It brings you some measure of relief, to admit them like that. The burden is a little lighter that way. So you confess them again and again, professing your regrets in the hopes of gradually letting them go. With such an extensive record of your mistakes, it should be easier not to make them again. You hope that this fixation on what you wish you could undo has at least made you a bit wiser in the process.
tagged by: stole it from @gallifreyborn tagging: @butterflygardcn, @morethaniknew, @ seb's accounts that i can't tag
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@susanforeman said: “I’m not afraid of death, I think it’ll be peaceful.”
Death - it was a funny thing.
So much of Romana's life since Etra Prime revolved around it. It was ever-present in the back of her mind, more of a constant than a conscious thought. It leapt to the front when danger struck, clouding her thoughts and convincing her time and time again that there was one solution to every problem.
Romana wouldn't say that she was afraid of death, either. Not really. But she wasn't sure if she would describe the idea as peaceful.
If it was peaceful, then surely it would be too good for someone with blood on their hands. Wasn't suffering, retribution, the whole point? Why would any civilisation execute its criminals if all they were being sentenced to was peace? Why did every animal have those pesky survival instincts? Why was the fear of death one of the most common fears across all of time and space?
No, she didn't think it would be peaceful. But, then... she wondered how much experience Susan really had with it.
"You've never regenerated, have you?"
arkytior had accepted a long time ago that she was going to die. not as an eventuality -- that was a reality for everything; something that she naturally knew to be true but did not dwell on -- but as an event that was going to take place sooner rather than later. it was inevitable. death was all around her, encroaching on her, suffocating her. everywhere she turned she was faced with it. she caused it. sometimes it was directly by her hand, sometimes it was merely a person's association with her. somehow the former was easier to stomach. at least then it was a decision on her part, to pick up a gun.
(it haunted her still, that boy's screaming. she never learned his name. never got the chance to ask. did that make it worse or better? his face was clearer in her memories than anything else. YOU WILL TELL US THE CODE. TELL US THE CODE OR WE WILL CONTINUE TO TORTURE YOUR SUBORDINATE. she didn't give them the code. she couldn't. right? she couldn't. she made the right decision. it was almost a mercy to him when they finally killed him. it would have been worse if she gave in. she made the right decision. she made the right decision. she made the right decision. she could convince herself of this. she had to. he was so scared.)
so why couldn't she die? she wasn't trying to die, but she wasn't exactly taking all the suggested or even expected precations, either. how did all the blasts and debris miss her? why did she have to have just enough strength to crawl out of the ship crash after it was shot down? why was everyone she wanted to protect being killed while she didn't mind dying yet found herself in battle after battle after battle.
she wasn't susan anymore. she didn't even use that name. death changed a person; there'd been so much of it that she really didn't know who she was anymore.
there wasn't an afterlife, she was sure of it. at least she hoped she was sure of it. being nothing would be better than having to live with this heaviness forever.
" no. " she laughed hollowly. it wasn't funny. " no, i haven't. i can't. "
the quick fall to silence was used as an opportunity to study romana. how many times had she regenerated? was she like the doctor, burning through bodies left and right?
" i've lived too long, anyway. i wouldn't want to do it twelve more times. "
every bit of that 'too long' showed on her face. arkytior did not physically age -- hadn't in an incredibly long time -- but there was no denying that she was ancient. even if she hid the effects of her weariness on her body, her eyes told the truth.
" but you've regenerated. " a statement. she was absently rubbing at her wrist. it'd been broken a while ago now, and had yet to truly heal. " what's it like? "
some angst idk y’all i like crying
“ i don’t want you here. just go. ”
“ you ‘didn’t mean to hurt me?’ yeah you did. like it or not, i know exactly who you are. ”
“ why won’t you even look at me? ”
“ i’m not angry at you. i’m angry with myself for trusting you. ”
“ i wish you’d stop trying to destroy yourself in some misguided effort to feel worthy. ”
“ i know it’s not fair to say this, but i don’t have anything without you. if i don’t have you i have nothing. ”
“ you can’t love me. not the way i need to be loved. ”
“ i’m broken. and i don’t need anyone to try to feed me white lies about it. something inside me is broken and it isn’t just going to be put back like it was. ”
“ sometimes being broken isn’t about trying to put things back together like they were before. it’s about picking up what pieces are left and building something new. ”
“ okay, so you’re a monster. so am i. lets be monsters together. ”
“ because of what they/you did i’m damaged. ”
“ what the hell is wrong with you? ”
“ what the hell is wrong with me? ”
“ i can’t fix you. you can’t expect me to know how to fix you. ”
“ yeah, i’ll be here. i’ll be here when you’re ready to stop running. ”
“ my world is just falling apart. it’s like everything is just crumbling around me. i don’t know what to do. i just want it to stop ”
“ you’re the only thing that makes sense right now. everything else is just— the world is so loud. and the only time it feels quiet is when you’re here. ”
“ i don’t know how to talk about shit okay? it’s too hard. but i do care. i need you to trust me that i care. ”
“ stop punishing yourself. you wanna make up for what you’ve done? get off your ass and do something about it. ”
“ whatever it is you think was going on between us, you’re wrong. ”
“ it didn’t mean anything to me. ”
“ you should move on. i did. ”
“ i feel like i’m one bad day away from becoming everything i’ve fought against. ”
“ stop pushing me away. i’m not going anywhere, asshole. and as soon as you get that through that thick skull of yours, the better. ”
“ i don’t need you in my life. i don’t want you in it. ”
“ i can’t trust myself. if i let myself get comfortable enough, when i try to be happy, people get hurt. ”
“ people like me don’t get to have peace. ”
“ i’m not the person you want. i know you think i am. but it won’t take long for you to realize this is a mistake. ”
“ you want the truth? the truth is when i love people it burns inside me like a poison. it infects every part of me until it feels like they’re in my goddamn soul…and then i fuck it up. and it’ll destroy us both. ”
“ i’ll always choose you. that’s the worst part of it all. i’d choose you over and over, even though i know you wouldn’t do the same. ”
“ you never had to be perfect. you just had to stay. ”
“ will you please just stay for once. just. don’t walk away. ”
“ if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more. ”
“ just tell me something real. tell me something i can remember no matter what happens to us. ”
“ when you look at me, i feel seen. i feel like you see past everything i’ve always surrounded myself with to try and protect my heart. no one has ever looked that deeply at me. ”
“ how can you uncover so much about someone, make them let their guard down and lay themselves bare to you. and then just throw it all away? ”
“ if you walk out that door don’t bother coming back. ”
“ why are you so afraid of trusting this— trusting us. what’s making you hold back? ”
“ will you still be here? will you stay even after you’ve seen all the ugly parts of my heart. ”
“ i don’t care how willing you are to die for me. i want you to fucking live with me. live for us. ”
HURT/COMFORT
[ DISCOVER ] for one muse to find the other crying alone.
[ COMPANY ] for one muse to sit with the other so they don’t have to be alone while they’re upset.
[ EMBRACE ] for one muse to suddenly hug the other one for their own comfort.
[ OFFER ] for one muse to suddenly hug the other one to comfort them.
[ SETTLE ] for one muse to comfort the other and end up cuddling.
[ SHOULDER ] for one muse to rest their head on the other’s shoulder while they comfort them.
[ CARRY ] for one muse to find the other injured and carry them to safety.
[ SECURE ] for one muse to carry the other to bed after they fell asleep.
[ STRUGGLE ] for one muse to resist being hugged but then break down and crumble against the other.
[ CLEAR ] for one muse to wipe the other’s tears.
[ BREAKDOWN ] for one muse to ask the other if they’re okay prompting them to finally stop bottling things up.
[ BRUSH ] for one muse to run their fingers through the other’s hair while they open up or cry.
[ NURSE ] for one muse to tend to the other while they’re recovering from injuries.
[ TRUST ] for a scenario where sender’s muse is the only one receivers muse will let close.
[ COAX ] for scenario where receiver’s muse knows they’re the only one sender’s muse will let close.
[ CALM ] for one muse to subdue the other during an outburst.
[ CLARITY ] for one muse to help ground the other back in the present (i.e. after nightmare, breakdown, battle etc)
[ PREVENT ] for one muse to stop the other from going too far during a fight.
