The Man With Two Hearts

//Howdy folks…I am so sorry but I’ve decided to go on hiatus with Tenny until further notice. I’m not sure how long this will be. I have had difficulty getting muse for him and I don’t want to keep everyone waiting on me to reply.

Plus that, I’ve just been made the Coordinating Editor of the NeuroQueer books imprint of Autonomous Press . With that, plus finishing up my MFA this summer and still working a day job, I really don’t think I’m going to have much in the spoons department for the next few months.

I will be here reblogging DW/David Tennant stuff, free to chat sometimes, and so forth. I’m keeping all my current threads in drafts for when/if I come back. I’ll also be doing some limited roleplaying on my Martha Jones account @doctorandsoldier or my OCs Nico Talorien and Mara Talisien @nicoandmara.

Allons-y!

I’m tagging everyone that I know I have threads with right now or have recently had a thread with (please, if I forget anyone, I’m truly sorry -- I’m just flipping through my drafts folder and tagging anyone I’ve got a draft with in there).

Featured artist: ninjatrip

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The Brain of Morbius

“Oi! What’s going on here?” the Doctor cried as he gripped onto the console of his TARDIS, his knuckles growing whiter as his TARDIS shuddered and violently lurched from side to side. Something was terribly wrong: he’d not been able to land in his original destination and every time he tried, the TARDIS acted like she was going to fly herself apart.

He pressed a button, and the emergency landing sequence began. He had no idea where he’d end up…he hoped it wasn’t a planet with an unbreathable atmosphere, or a stinky swamp world. But whatever it was, it’d be better than his TARDIS coming apart.

Checking the console monitor, he saw that he’d landed…in a prison? Sighing heavily, he adjusted the viewscreen and saw a woman in long robes and long, wavy brown hair sitting in one of the cells.

He trusted his ship. There had to be a reason he landed here.

Diving his hands into his various pockets, he checked…sonic screwdriver…psychic paper…banana. Once he was satisfied, he bounded down the ramp away from the console, grabbing his long brown trenchcoat from one of the coral pillars. He pulled open the TARDIS door, and peered outside…

They slowly approached the town, and now able to see more of it as they came closer, he noticed that the houses were very much like Bavarian cottages – sand-coloured walls, wooden planks crisscrossing them on the outside, and capped with dark brown slanted, sloping roofs. A warm breeze blew past them, making the grass ripple. The large scarlet blooms in the field next to them yielded to the wind, waving their heavy heads back and forth. The path ahead lead straight into town, and then seemed to branch off in many different directions to form its network of streets. 

In only a minute or two, they were inside the town itself. The Time Lord and the mage continued on the winding brick road, which then divided into a myriad of equally enticing paths through different sections of the small town. The central road continued to lead to the town square.

He turned to Merlin. “I say we go right to the town square,” he suggested, his eyebrows lightly lifting. “What d’you think, Merlin?”

As he spoke, he curled his hand around his own cup and lifted the straw to his lips. He pulled a long sip through the straw and into his mouth, watching the bright orange frozen stuff pipe up through the plastic and turn it a slight tint of green. The sweet persimmon-coloured treat lit up his taste buds, and he shut his eyes in pure enjoyment. “Mmmmm...this is amazing,” he gushed after he swallowed it down, then opened his eyes and peered back at Rose.

By now, he’d noticed the occasional curious onlooker peering at him, probably wondering why he was chatting with a puppy in broad daylight as if it were human. But he paid them no mind, simply turned and glanced at them whilst offering a friendly hello. Most just shrugged and walked away.

The Doctor watches Darby clawing at the TARDIS doors and laughs. “It’s certainly not small,” he replies, darting over to the blue box and then looking down at the puppy, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “Just want until you see inside. Oh, and...you might want to stand back, before I open the doors.”

The Doctor watched as Iris fluttered next to him, then stopped to hover and watch him stir the masala he was frying in the Dutch oven on the stove. It was a mix of onions, garlic, ginger, green chilis, and whole spices frying in oil; the ingredients glistened with a light sheen and a savoury, mildly pungent aroma wafted up from them.

He turned to Iris, who was pointing to the pot and gazing at him with raised eyebrows. “Yep,” he replied, popping the last ‘p’. “Been able to for centuries. Just don’t do it that often ‘cos, well…” He looked up for a brief second, absentmindedly waving the wooden spoon in his hand a bit as he gestured. “I’ve got a bad habit of being distractible and burning things.”

Pushing the drawer closed and shutting the fridge door, he set the strawberries on another nearby counter, then retrieved a few of the huge, ripe seed-studded things from the green plastic. Quickly he ran them under some water, then pulled their fuzzy green crowns from their bodies and thinly sliced them on a clean cutting board while humming some half-forgotten tune. 

In short order, he had the slices of strawberry on a plate nearby. “There you go,” he offered, turning to Iris and nodding at the place.

“Why yes, I did,” the Doctor admitted, just after he’d taken one of the Master’s hands in his own and swept his tongue over the backside of it, just below the knuckles. He shot the other Time Lord a sly smile. “And you heard what I said.”

Instead, he stepped forward after a moment and, winding his arms around the Master, pulled him closer and seized his lips with his own. He mirrored the other’s rough kiss from the moment before, then leaned in and touched his forehead to the other man’s before softly beaming the only words that he could find at the moment to the other Time Lord. 

“Never,” he promised, placing a kiss on the others forehead.

The Doctor reached around to the back closure – a tiny set of rings with a dainty, yet strong padlock looped through them – and made sure it was secure. 

The collar itself was elegant – it looked more like a choker, really. A thin gold band, about an inch wide, wrapped around her neck. Words in Circular Gallifreyan were engraved around the band: on one side, his name, and on the other side ngudia sam avitanon – my beloved forever. In front of her throat, a large aquamarine tear-shaped gem was mounted – he’d picked that color to match her eyes. The loops at the back were not only wide enough to lock, but to attach a leash if so desired.

“I’m glad you do,” he replied softly, a smile creeping over his lips. He’d made it himself, squirreled away in his workshop for several days, hiding it from her as he’d intended it as a surprise. “Does it fit alright for you?”

Peter sat at his laptop with the AO3 website open. His eyes were dark with lust as he read each line of the document he’d been browsing absent-mindedly up until he recently when he realised exactly what he’d been reading.

A slight moan sounded from parted lips as he wetted them slightly with the tip of his tongue. Looking up at the Doctor as he worked on some doodad or another, the illusionist let a filthy smile creep over his face. “Doctor…” he said. “You might want to look at this.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” The Doctor swiftly moved through the takeoff sequence, stopping very briefly to gaze up at Peter as he fired up the helmic regulator. “I will be thoroughly surprised if you don’t,” he added softly with a sly smile before moving on to the handbrake.

“You’ll get to see some of humanity’s future,” he continued. “The planet Shazzar, the year 5099 A.D. We’ll be visiting during its year-end Festival of Lights. Think of Diwali, Mardi Gras, and Lunar New Year all rolled into one.”

Turning to look at Peter, he stood with his hand poised in the takeoff lever. “Grab onto something, Peter, and hang on tight! She takes off very rough.”

By Arcadia, it was too easy to become addicted to this.

As he allowed the other man’s tongue to explore his mouth, it occurred to him that one of these days, he’d want to show the other the contents of his mind...spiral his thoughts and coil them around the other’s. It had been centuries since he’d willingly let another inside his thoughts, and strangely enough, the physical contact he now shared with Peter made him suddenly miss the mental contact, too.

The moon was now at its apex in the black, glittery sky, which meant seven more hours of night. When they finally broke apart from the kiss, he peered at the other, whose face was illuminated by a blue-white wash of moonlight that had slipped through a hole in the canopy of leaves above them.