#tempusrimor

❖ ─ THE CLOCK STRUCK TEN...

✦ the tenth doctor from doctor who ✦ penned by cole ✦ independent portrayal ✦ mature content ✦ crossovers and ocs welcome ✦

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“You left me, Theta,” he says, softly, looking at the Doctor from across the boardroom table on the Valiant. He’s still turned the Doctor’s TARDIS into a paradox machine, he’s still become Prime Minister of the UK, but he hasn’t killed anyone, not even the US President. Instead, the Toclafane threatened, but never harmed, everyone into submission, save the few who dared to resist, the casualties of a failed rebellion. He’d seen much, much worse during the war.

He couldn’t, not with Ophelia by his side. She’d changed him, in the short time they’d been travelling together, the few years it took to build the ship to Utopia and the mechanism that powered it. He’d managed to change her, too, just a little, teaching her to use her anger to get what she wanted. It was truly a family affair.

“Not just that, but you left her,” the Master, still quiet, but anger evident in his voice. He’d had centuries to deal with the anger and hurt the Doctor caused him, but the anger on behalf of their daughter was still on the surface of his mind, yet to be repressed like everything else.

London, 3076. The loud sound of sirens echoed trought the chaos full street as the young brunette rushed down it, her hands full of emergency supplies. It was not the first time the sound of them cut though the Addinghton today, but as they got more frequent people started to freak out more. Putting up a speed she made a sharp turn on the cross section and bumped into someone, hearing an exclamation.

❝Oh, don't you 'Oi' me! We're in the middle of a WAR zone!❞ Clara Oswin snapped as she looked up at the stranger. Her brown eyes shining brightly under the street lights.

after a year on the valiant

“You mean you’re just going to keep me?”

Jack is holding the Master’s hands behind his back, in the process of handcuffing him. Martha’s mother is still holding her pistol, hand shaking as she aims it.

The Master, degraded, no longer in control, now that the Doctor has been freed from his collar and the world has done the whole Tinkerbell bit, keeps his eyes locked on the Doctor. He’s reeling from the implication that he’ll be nothing but a pet for the Doctor to keep. It pisses him off, the loss of freedom he’d worked so, so hard to keep.

One cuff locks around his wrist, and he flinches a bit at the sound. He’d never gone this far to keep the Doctor in check, not the entire year. Especially after the collar went on, the threat of getting shocked kept him mostly in line, despite the fact that he’d never been shocked since the first one.

“Doc-”

theta and koschei’s excellent adventure (into parenting) (v: domestic bliss) ft. @tempusrimor, @theresastargirl and @drummingncise

“There was a time,” he starts, “before Gallifreyan politics mucked everything up, that two boys, fresh out of the Academy, decided to loom their own child.”

“They put aside their promise to see every star and raise a star of their own.”

“Of course, their families had to intervene, because one of the boys had been promised to another since before they were loomed, but for two years? Those boys and their little star were happy.”

The thing is, the Doctor hasn’t seen how much different the Master is with Ophelia by his side. He’d been alone for eight hundred years, forced to face his pain alone, stuck in a time vortex, or infected with a cheetah virus, or burnt to a crisp. And then the Time War happened. He’d watched his entire family die, some long-buried memories unearthed with the Dalek blast that killed his mother.

He’d been allowed to die, only to be brought back as a soldier with a 4:4 beat pounding in his head. He’d seen the horrors of the war, and was forever changed by it.