doctor who aus

AU verse with Rose and Bill are in the TARDIS together (with Nine) (ofc with Nine, can you imagine this old grumpy with two rays of sunshines at once?)

but Rose is still very much from 2005 and Bill still very much is from 2017

like, can you imagine Rose casually taking her phone out to give her weekly phone call to Jackie and tell her everything is okay, only for Bill to let out the most gleeful laugh every because “oh my god, that a Nokia 3310? it’s so vintage, where did you get that?” and Rose’s look of horror when Bill shows her her iPhone 7 because that’s not a phone, that’s too thin to be a phone, what

or Bill having to break it to Rose chokers are back in fashion

and Bill’s look of horror at Rose unironically enjoying James Blunt

would be great tbh

Reblog if you’ve ever read fan-fiction that actually set the bar higher.
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Voltron Time lords AU

I just couldn’t get this damn AU off my mind, so here we are 

Doctor Who AU
  • Shiro: we've got to become stronger and defeat Zarkon! I--
  • The Doctor: -Tardis appears in control room- -The Doctor steps out- ......
  • Paladins: ......
  • The Doctor: Now that's some fancy get up you're wearing there :D
  • Keith: who the hell are you?
  • The Doctor: I'm the Doctor, pleasure doing business with you -starts fiddling with the tardis, mumbling to himself-
  • Lance, walking into the tardis: what the quiznak! ITS BIGGER ON THE FUCKING INSIDE--PIDGE ARE YOU SEEING THIS--
  • Pidge: -overheating-

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

Doctor Who AU // OT3 : Doctor!Newt / compagnions!Credence/Percival


Newt, aka The Doctor, found this two boys lost in their lives, he decided to show them the Universe. They will fight together, and fall in love together.


(My two favorite things since some months…I needed to mix this two fandoms! :D (sorry if I made some mistakes in english x) )

Sherlock AU

Supernatural AU

Fanfiction - He Who Loves Him (College AU)

All my fanfiction here

He Who Loves Him

Claire was brushing her teeth, silently going over every possible therapeutic scheme for a pneumonia – she had a pharmacology test later that week -, when her phone buzzed inside her pocket.

“Going for an early session with JG, need to train our plays. Meet me there later, Snch? Love u. XO”

The image of John Grey the previous night, his unshielded emotions pouring out, came to her mind with the impact of a slap. Could she be wrong? She didn’t thought so. In that fraction of time John had laid down his guard, totally exposed as his heart called out for Jamie’s. She knew that look – had surprised it enough times while looking into the mirror or gazing at Jamie’s eyes since that first night, months ago.

Was Jamie aware of his affections? That issue was even more complicated. He was a sensitive and wise man – Claire highly doubted he would proposedly seek John’s company so often, knowing that it might encourage him somehow. Knowing that, deep down, every time they stood close he was teasing John. No – she was fairly sure Jamie had no clue. Besides, she was confident he would have shared any thoughts of that nature with her.

It was like holding a grenade – a weapon of destruction had been bestowed into her care and now she had to decide what to do with it – she could almost feel it, throbbing dangerously in her hand with each passing second. Should she share her suspicions with Jamie? The repercussions of that discovery floated in front of her eyes, as ripples of a disturbance in the water. Perhaps she ought to remain silent and wait for things to unfold as they would? Perchance knowing his feelings unreciprocated, Grey would slowly forget Jamie?

Slowly she typed her answer and hit send, her chest heavy as a quarry. “See you then. XX”

She went to the library in search of some articles, needed to complete her essay on the benefits of breast cancer screening. All the time, while she perused the books and medical publications in search of helpful materials, a permanent weight was trapped inside her, like a vine around her trachea and lungs, threatening to suffocate her – the burden of secrets kept and the clairvoyance of pain to come.

“Claire!” Ian called her with urgency, hurriedly walking along the corridor of bookcases. He was almost breathless and he had a deep crease on his forehead. “A Dhia! I’ve been searching everywhere for ye. Something happened.”

“Jamie.” She whispered, dropping a pile of books on the floor, her lips numb. “What is it, Ian? What happened?”

“He is alright.” Ian comforted her, but his lips were twisted in apprehension. “But he punched John Grey – hit him pretty badly.”

“What?!” Claire asked, astonished. She grabbed Ian by the shoulders and shook him slightly, as if panning gold from a river. “But they are friends.”

“Well…” Ian swallowed hard and blushed like a lobster under the influence of the cooker. “Apparently Grey kissed him in front of the whole team.”

****

Claire found him sitting – of rather collapsed - on the lawn of the nearby park – usually a perfect hiding place, if not for the gossip that followed him and made him as easy to trace as a fugitive kangaroo.

“Have you come here to yell at me?” John asked, his eyes caught in the distant flock of birds, raiding the top of the trees like a heavenly army, flaunting their freedom with a stroke of wings. “God I wish they’d stop doing that.” He grumbled, as a couple of girls blatantly pointed in his direction from afar, their laughs clear as seagulls’ cries calling for a storm at sea.

“You kissed my boyfriend.” Claire said in a conversational tone while she sat next to him on the grass, folding her legs in a meditation position. “The thought of giving a shout or two has crossed my mind. Don’t you think I’m entitled to it? Or being a boy is supposed to offer you some privileges?”

“I was thinking you’d find it ridiculous enough to pity me.” He snorted, brushing his knuckles. He was sporting an impressive black eye, as if something had started to rot from the inside out, hidden truths closer to the surface of the skin. “I’m not your rival, Claire – never will be.”

“There’s nothing ridiculous about your feelings, John.” She said softly, brushing away a stubborn curl waving like a flag on the breeze. “I hope you know that.”

“Jamie didn’t seem to agree.” John closed his eyes and grimaced. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you in any way, Claire. I know what you are – who you are – to him.”

“So what did you mean?” She waited patiently as his fingers played with a solitary dandelion, an outcast amongst the green blades of grass, akin to himself.

“I’m in love with him.” He whispered, his ears acquiring a faint pinkish tone – his light blue eyes serious and tormented. Was it the first time he admitted it out loud? “I had promised myself I would never act upon it – would never sought nothing more than his friendship. I was decided to cherish whatever he chose to give me as my most precious gift.”

“What changed, then?” Claire nodded, observing as an ant made its way across her finger, tickling her with its infinitesimal steps – unbelievingly strong by nature’s standards and yet so fragile had she chosen to crush it.  

“He was so happy after practice today – so hopeful for the Championships next week.” John explained in a choked voice, shrugging. “For a moment I lost track of reality – I was entangled in the fantasy that I could be part of his elation. I kissed him because I forgot myself.”

“I understand.” She gently placed the ant on the ground beside her, contemplating as it continued its previous path, undisturbed. “I do.” She repeated, noticing his sideways glance of doubt. “I know how easy it is to love him. I could never reproach you for that.”

“Yes.” John bit his lip, until a drop of blood was formed underneath his teeth – as if he had been kissed by an angry deity, marking him for the ultimate sacrifice. His voice was low and almost angry – not with her but with himself; with the temptations of loving a man beyond his reach. “And how hard is it to laugh with him and not touch him? To hear him talk and not kiss him to drink down his words – ever thirsty, ever wanting? This mark,” He brushed the bruise on his face with moving tenderness, as a caress of a lover. “It’s the closest thing I’ll ever have of his touch on me.”

“You took him by surprise.” Claire watched as he finally crushed the dandelion bellow his trembling fingers, annihilating the part of himself that stood out from the crowd. “I’m sure that’s why he hit you.”

“Perhaps.” The young man laughed – a short and forced sound, like thousands of cries trapped bellow his ribs, cracking every vessel, every organ, wide open. “But now I lost him forever. I won’t have him in any capacity – and I don’t think I can live with that notion. He demanded that I never speak to him again – or even call him Jamie. I feel small and pathetic as only loveless beings can be.”

They sat in silence for a while, strange companions linked by the shared love of a single man – one heart sure and complete reaching out to glue the shards of one irredeemably broken. Claire felt a million different emotions, battling inside her mind like opposing armies, until she was ready to surrender to a numbing conclusion – part of her mourning for John’s uncorresponded love; another screaming in blasphemy at him, who had dared to steal a kiss promised only to her.  

“I’m sorry I told you these things.” John whispered, as shadows grew around them, finally making him invisible to unwelcome eyes. “It can’t be easy hearing another soul lusting after what is rightfully yours. How do you feel about all this?”

“Sad.” Claire said in a soft tone and then, looking to him with sincerity written all over her face. “Avenged.”

****

She knew where to find him – there was only one place on campus that could ease his troubled soul, where he would go to release his consuming thoughts.

Claire entered the locker room without knocking on the door – it was late and any practice had surely ended hours ago. He was there, sitting on the bench, a towel draped around his shoulders – he looked worn out and battered. His fast breathing was the only audible sound besides her own steps – he had been working out, probably repeating the dynamics she had witnessed the day she first saw him. Once upon a time he had been consumed with the desire of being better, of overcoming himself – now he was using the same tactics to run away from things that awaited on the inside, dreary and haunting.

“I’ve been looking for you.” She said softly, coming closer to him. “I thought you would come to me after what happened.”

“I needed to think.” Jamie looked at her with troubled eyes. “Besides, I dinna know what ye’d feel - and think - about all of this.”

“I think you’re hurt.” She whispered, her thumb touching her silver ring for strength – it seemed like a lifetime ago, the night he had given it to her, the fountain singing around them. “And you shouldn’t be alone.” Jamie glared at her and his lips contorted in agony.

“Ye knew.” He affirmed – almost accused – in a raw voice, his eyes drifting away from her face. “Didn’t ye?”

“I did.” Claire admitted, leaning against the lockers behind her.

“Why didn’t ye tell me?” Jamie asked, cleaning the sweat of his brow with a towel. “I thought we had honesty between us, Claire.”

“We do.” She inhaled deeply. “Between us. This had nothing to do with me, Jamie – it was not my place to tell you of those suspicions. What if I had been wrong?”

Ifrinn! I would have been prepared.” He hissed, throwing the towel on the floor. “I wouldna have been caught unaware like a blind fool.”

“I am sorry.” She breathed, sitting on the bench – keeping a respectful distance from him. “I didn’t want to torture you with things that might never come to pass. And John, he…”

“Dinna say his name to me!” Jamie spat out, closing his fists over his knees. “I should have killed the man.”

“I know you didn’t punch him because he likes men.” Claire said evenly. “I know you Jamie. You’re better than any of those prejudices.”

“He touched me against my will!” He snickered. “And you think I’m not entitled to be outraged?”

“I’m sure you are.” She conceded, leaning over to search for his eyes. “But that is not all of it, is it?”

“I hurt him because he betrayed me, Claire.” He said between his teeth, sounding as broken and ruined as John had sounded earlier. “I opened up with him. Told him personal things, allowed him inside – and he used it to get close to me. He abused my trust.”

“That’s not all of it either, is it?” Claire demanded, sliding from her seat and kneeling in front of him – she held his hands on hers, battered and swollen knuckles as medals of sorrow, and felt the tremor in his body. “Tell me, Jamie. Why are you like this?”

“I’m angry because he got hurt!” He yelled, his fist releasing form her grip and hitting the locker next to him with a bang. “He left me no other choice! And now we canna go back and pretend this never happened, Claire.”

“You lost him too.” She realized, licking her lips, watching his blue eyes moist and fierce. “But you can still amend things.”

“He robbed me of something.” He shook his head, his hands finding their way to her face, as he held on to her. “I’m yers, Claire. I dinna want to belong to anyone else, ever again – he had no right to endanger that. If ye had suspected me or heard what people are saying…I canna breathe thinking I could lose ye.”

“I’d sooner doubt my heart than yours, Jamie.” She assured him, cradling his head between her hands.  “Trust me in this – as I’ve trusted you. I will only believe that I don’t hold your heart the day you tell me so, yourself. Nothing else on this earth can part me from you.”

“Claire.” Jamie whispered, tugging her closer. “Claire, I need ye so.”

She allowed him to claim her body there and then – pressing her against him in an urgency that was a coronation of his fears. And while he sought reassurance of his rightful place, she prayed for those who would never know such love, alone in the darkness outside of a healing heart.

10

“Never cruel or cowardly. Never give up. Never give in.”

In the 61st century, the Shadow Proclamation recruits a group of women from different periods to form an elite squad: the Department of Objective and Covert Temporal Oversight through Respondent and Warranted Humanitary Operations, also known as D.O.C.T.O.R.W.H.O.

2

the Timelords and their Companions