he's the oncoming storm

Imagine, for a moment, Clara Oswald

Clara Oswald sending a Time Lord, thousands of years old, The Oncoming Storm, out for coffee. And he goes.

Clara Oswald learning to ride a motorbike because riding on the back of Eleven’s was fun, but she could do it so much better on her own.

Clara Oswald gaining access to the Black Archives because her world-saving antics are as renowned as *his*.

Clara Oswald grading papers on the TARDIS while casually putting out the diplomatic fires the Doctor starts on multiple worlds.

Clara Oswald seducing Jane Austen and influencing the character development of Liz Bennett. (Guess who influenced Darcy’s.)

Clara Oswald riding into this world on a leaf and soaring off of it in a TARDIS she shares with yet another woman who was supposed to die thousands of years ago, but who the universe wasn’t ready to live without. 

Originally posted by hirmienworld

Equation of Storms

Mei didn’t know what to expect when Hanzo joined her and Winston on their scientific expedition, but he insisted that they needed someone to watch out for them security-wise. They were going to upstate New York to research storm patterns, and they would be by the shoreline, the better to observe said patterns. Since they got to their camp site, Hanzo turned out to surprise her. First, he looked through the nearby forest and was able to identify some of the local foilage, which impressed Mei. Then there was the time he was able to help calculate the trajectory of an oncoming storm-not by much, but enough to reveal a potential for maths.

“Simple geometry.” Hanzo said, then shrugged as if it was nothing.

“Not as simple as you think.” Mei answered. Still, he dismissed this potency as though it didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be their first disgreement. The next one came when a boar came stampeding out of the forest. It almost hit their equipment and Hanzo was able to hit it with an arrow, straight to the heart. Then he lifted the boar and moved it a few feet from their camp site and began to butcher it.

“What are you doing?” Winston asked, staring. Mei could only look aghast-how could Hanzo butcher that animal? But he was, he had stripped down to lower garments and was cutting at the boar’s body.

“Dressing the kill, what does it look like?” Hanzo said. “We could use a suppliment to our rations.”

“And how, exactly, would we preserve all of this meat?” Mei asked.

“The tin can next to what I have carved so far, it has a curing blend. Just rub a generous amound of what meat slabs are cut, then let it sit, I will smoke it when I am done here.”

“But-but that-”

“It is a common species of boar, all we have done here is deprive the local predators of a meal and even then they will be able to look elsewhere.” Mei had to sigh, there was no arguing with him, and besides, maybe they could add to their rations somehow. So Mei volunteered to rub the curing blend into the meat, even offered to put the cured meat over the fire so it could cook. “So, are we going to eat the entire body?”

“If you mean the meat this generates, then maybe. Jerky keeps well, it should last us long past this trip.”

“What about the rest? The bones, sinew, the…organs?”

“Buried a distance from here, it can serve as fertilizer. That way, nothing is wasted.” Mei had to admit he had a point.

“Do you do a lot of hunting? I mean, game hunting, not assassination.”

“Sometimes I did, when I needed to hide out among the wilderness. Old survival skills from…before. They served well.” He fell silent after that, unwilling to speak more of his old life.

Weeks passed and they settled into a comfortable routine of research, exploration and looking over calcuations. Then they saw readings of an incoming blizzard heading their way, and were in the middle of evacuating when it hit. The storm hit their camp site and they managed to find shelter in a nearby cave. Mei shook, anxious, the storm-a nor'easter-reminding her of the super storm in Antarctica that drove her and her colleagues at the Ecopoint to cryosleep. But this wasn’t Antarctica, they had plenty of rations which were supplimented thanks to Hanzo-where was he anyway?

“Winston, did you see Hanzo?” Mei asked. They looked around, Hanzo wasn’t here.

“No, I thought he was right behind us.” Winston said. “I’m going back out there to see if I can find him.”

“Winston, it’s too dangerous! What if-what if he’s on his way here now.”

“Then I’ll run into him. It’s too dangerous for both of us, but I’m more likely to survive. Advantages of fur and all.”

“All right…keep your comm open at all times.” Winston nodded and went out the cave. Mei paced, got things set up like a fire, laid out rations, and fretted about the two of them. It felt like eternity, but she soon heard large footsteps. She stood up and saw Winston, carrying a half frozen Hanzo and their emergency beacon.

“He’s alive.” Winston said as he laid Hanzo down on an open sleeping bag. “He had the beacon in his possession, he was on his way here when he tripped. Mei…this doesn’t look good, even with a thermal sleeping bag.”

“I have an idea. I have water boiling-please bring it here.” Winston did, and handed her the pot filled with boiling water. Mei took the pot and put it right in Hanzo’s face, letting him breathe in the steam. He gasped and coughed and Mei gave the pot back to Winston.

“Hanzo, are you all right?” Mei asked. Hanzo nodded. “You’ve been exposed to the cold, and we need to save heat.” She started undressing him.

“What..what are you doing?” Hanzo asked. Winston just coughed, and decided to keep an eye out for rescue.

“We need to save heat.” Mei then undressed herself and got in close to Hanzo before closing the sleeping bag. “This will help. Talk to me, you need to stay awake.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“Simple geometry is a good start.” That got Hanzo to smile, and they talked of angles and circles, shapes and areas. It was amazing what he knew despite a lack of formal learning, of conventional learning.

“The numbers, they proved to be relaxing.” Hanzo said. “Whenever things with the clan started to be overwhelming, I would play with numbers. A lot of them were economical, finaincial equations, and they needed to be seen as possible theories for our…business.”

“Didn’t you want to advance your learning of math?” Mei asked.

“Why? I had the knowledge I required to lead, or so I thought. Anything else would have been frivilous and the master of the Shimada can not afford frivolities.”

“What about university? That would not be a frivolitiy.”

“It was beneath us. Genji and I were home-schooled, to keep as much of the outside world out as possible. We traveled with our father, then we traveled on our own, whether we were trusted to or not.”

“It still does not answer my question.”

“About whether or not I wanted to learn more math? The truth? I would have wanted to know more about numbers than what was in a ledger, about the proper angles to shoot in order to achieve a kill. But it was not to be.”

“It’s not too late.” Hanzo hummed and snuggled closer.

“So soft…should do this under better circumstances.”


“This. You and me, together, like this. Must do in a nice, soft bed…candlelight…no, moonlight…that would be best…”

“Hanzo, I-why? I mean, why me? I think you may like other girls, like Dr. Ziegler, for example.”

“Mmm, no, she wants my brother, but is too shy to approach him. He is uncertain, and wants to be sure he has honorable intentions before moving forward. No, want you.”

“Even if I’m not…”

“Not one of those chemical-infused, gold-digging tramps?” Mei had to laugh at that.

“Hanzo, that’s mean!”

“That is truth. They make their noses from plastic, they inject enough collagen in their lips to inhibit breathing and their breasts, they are so full of silicone a blind man could see them for the fakes they are. No, you-you are real, you are genuine, you do not pretend to be coy and shy for personal gain, you do not care that I am a baka in situations that require socialization, I…I do not deserve you, Mei-Ling. But I still want you, so very much.” That was when he kissed her, and it warmed the both of them more than their bodies sharing heat. Mei broke the kiss after a few minutes, it was that intense, and she needed to breathe.

“Please, not here. What if-what if Winston hears us, or sees us?”

“We could tell him to take notes. It would be good research for him.” Mei giggled.

“I think we should wait until we are rescued, get back to base, before we continue anything further. Plus, we could start with tea, or even dinner.”

“Would like that. Very much. Sweet, beautiful Mei…a worthy treasure for an unworthy nightingale.” Mei just cuddled, and prayed rescue would come soon.

Well, that and Winston didn’t barge in on them.


“Mm, Whatcha Say” - Digitally Painted Gif

I know it’s a short gif, with only 6 frames, but there was a lot going on in each picture, so I kept it short. I really like this moment though, where the Doctor puts his ‘Oncoming Storm’ face on!

This is NOT a Photoshop filter, every stroke is painted by me.

@thewinterslave, RP: Storms


Loki awoke a few hours later, the Jet had a few warnings going off, and he quickly dressed in new clothes, giving Bucky some new ones as well as he went to actually pilot the thing through some oncoming storm clouds.  He leaned back in the seat, sighing and pinching his forehead.  He waved a hand so the microwave and some food would cook while he continued to drive the Jet.

He then teleported said food onto a tray with some coffee next to the bed where Bucky was.  He leaned back, making sure to avoid anything too horrid.  He couldn’t stop the storm, and it could very well kill them if he was not careful, but he was a good pilot all the same.

Looking out at the storm clouds, he remembered Thor in that moment.  In a way, he missed Thor, he missed how they used to be… brothers, even if he did always win their fights and drive Thor crazy.  Loki missed bothering him.  However, that thought only made Loki think of how bad they had gotten over time.  He almost iced over, almost his glamour dropping.  He hated storms, they always brought these morbid thoughts out, and he closed his eyes for a long moment.

Bucky said he had bad days… that he was still recovering but… what if Loki was also still recovering, what is they both could never heal from the damage in their lives?  What if they both had bad days?

Love and Methods Part 4; Sherlock x Reader

Requested by wariswooon: So I’m sending in the request in a week hoping it makes you easier to finish all of them c; Could you make another part of ‘love and methods’ where Sherlock and reader attend John and Mary’s wedding, dance together and accidentally start a talk about their own marriage, please? I hope that your school days go well too. Thank you

Keep reading

Just think about all that time on Darillium. Twelve tells her about Clara.

He can’t remember, sure. But he tells her the same story that he tells Clara about it, that she was so important to him that he went to Gallifrey at the end of the universe to save her, and that he had to wipe his memory to keep from being all “The Oncoming Storm” to keep her alive.

Then he tells River something he’s ashamed of, that he’s avoided telling her before now. He tells her about the time he did the same thing, but that time, he got it wrong.

He tells her about Donna Noble.

itsalways1895tome-deactivated20  asked:

Who's the better lover, 9 or 10? I think most people would say 10 but I think 9 would be. He's older, more experienced, confident and passionate. What do you think?

I’m sure both would be satisfactory lovers for Rose but 9 is the Oncoming Sex Storm (nsfw link). He has the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going for him instead of that rude, tall, brown, and dorky thing going on.

Rose hasn’t told me who she prefers. She wants to stay “neutral” and insists both “have their own skills”. I think she secretly prefers 9 though because as they say you never forget your first Doctor.

And let’s talk about Peter Freakin’ Capaldi for just a few moments. From an uneven start last season, he has become a force of nature. He truly is the oncoming storm. What other actor before could take a few minutes in the first part of an episode to directly address the audience on a time travel concept while playing Beethoven’s 5th Symphony on an electric guitar, even going so far as to show his shortness over having to explain something to us by coldly telling us to Google the “bootstrap paradox.” Sure, actors have broken the fourth wall all the way back to Hartnell, but Capaldi is an aggressive, impossibly energetic presence from the moment “Before the Flood” starts.

Jef Rouner, the Houston Press

Oct. 13, 2015

  • Me: Do you like Amy?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause she's mean to the Cybermen.
  • Me: Do you like Rory?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause he scares the Cybermen.
  • Me: Do you like River Song?
  • My little brother: No, 'cause she's mean to the Daleks.
  • Me: Do you like the Doctor?
  • My little brother: Yeah, he's nice.

“The Oncoming Storm” - Digital Oil Painting

He’s got on his ‘don’t mess with me’ face. You’d better not be between him and his Rose.

This is NOT a Photoshop filter, every stroke is painted by me.

anonymous asked:

Imagine Steve and may being the best of bros!!

She approached him after the dust settled around the ruins of SHIELD, with the same unshakable air of confidence that he had seen in briefings and missions. Steve figured that the world could fall apart at the seams, mountains could crumble, Melinda May would be left standing.

She didn’t ask him the same tired questions that everyone else had since the exposure; if he felt betrayed, if this was the future he had hoped to build. With all the power of an oncoming storm, Melinda May had asked him to meditate with her.

They had discussed the possibility briefly while staked out in a burnt out HYDRA stronghold in Vladivostok. He had mentioned that he often felt crowded, that he didn’t know how to sort through his thoughts at times. Melinda told him that meditation had helped her through some rough patches that she felt no need to elaborate on.

“You could sit in one day,” she told him, but duty called before he could respond.

They made it a weekly affair. Steve felt himself calming in a way he hadn’t known before, like his mind had been cluttered with a thousand dusty cobwebs that were suddenly blown away. He wasn’t sure if it was the silent contemplation or just Melinda’s presence but he was grateful regardless.

And of course, she was the greatest sparring partner he had ever had, but she was so much more than that.

There’s a level of familiarity one must reach with Agent May before you can, say, go out for coffee and talk about work. But once that level has been achieved, she’s the most fascinating conversationalist. Whenever Steve mentions something about Barton, May smiles like she holds all the man’s secrets just behind her teeth, which is probably not far from the truth. She’s an excellent story teller, concise and accurate, with a near photographic memory. It’s not hard to see why she’s a top agent but Steve likes the way she talks about sunrises, her favorite movies, her damn Starbucks order.

She reminds him of Nat, less for their shared ability to make silence seem deadly, but more for the way her eyebrow quirks up when he mentions he’s single.

“We’ll work on that,” she assures him, sipping on her latte.

Steve wonders how many secret agents one person is allowed to have as wingwomen. He thinks the answer will present itself as needs must. 

A beautiful man, sarcastic and funny. He believed in the importance of everything and everyone. His apologies were fewer, and therefore meant so much more. He made people take notice of him because of the sheer force of his personality. He was the embodiment of the Oncoming Storm in righteous anger. He was a soldier willing to get his hands dirty and kick down doors when he needed to act. He was a lover who gave his life to save his Rose. He was fantastic, and will always be My Doctor. -on why I love Nine the most
Sin, Love and Destruction

Written for the @timepetalsprompts weekly drabble prompt ‘lust’.

Nine/Rose, Ten/Rose, Rated G, 879 words, Angst

Summary: Every culture, every morality, every religion that the Doctor has ever encountered has had some version of the Seven Deadly Sins. The Doctor is guilty of all but one. 

The Greeks describe four types of love, but he’s only ever entertained three.

Until a small, blonde human takes his hand, looks up at him and says, ’there’s me.’

read it on ao3!

Originally posted by cooltennant

Every culture, every morality, every religion that the Doctor has ever encountered has had some version of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Sloth, greed, envy, lust, pride, gluttony, wrath.

He’s known as the Oncoming Storm, a title he’s perversely satisfied with.

You can tick off pride and wrath, there.

He’s been slow to act before, and though he’s mostly a generous sort, he’s been known to take without giving in return. More than once.

Sloth and greed.

He has always found himself jealous of the humans’ freedom to show their emotions at will and has allowed himself, at times, to indulge unreservedly in the very un-Time Lord-ly behavior of feelings.

There you have envy and gluttony.

But the one sin he’s never allowed, the one transgression he’s not permitted himself, has always been lust.


The Greeks describe four types of love, but he’s only ever entertained three.

Agape - the unconditional love, as god loves man.

Philae - love as one friend loves another.

Storge - the stable, solid love of a family.

He’s allowed those types of love in his life before, with people he’s traveled with. He’s permitted himself to foster the apelike, platonic affections they show each other, and enjoyed them. When he inevitably lost the companions he cared about, it was always incredibly painful and he always swore he’d never do it again. But invariably, he succumbed once again to the pull of emotions.

He did not, of course, allow himself to entertain any thoughts of eros, the erotic, amorous love. A Time Lord must have some limits, after all.

Then the Time War happened, and he swore off all happiness for himself. He didn’t deserve it. He deserved the black, torturous hell that his mind had become, and any reprieve from it was unthinkable. He was unworthy of redemption. He could never earn absolution. He would never deserve the love he’d enjoyed before. Instead, he wallowed in the bitterness and loneliness of his own mind.

Until one small, blonde human looked up at him and said, ‘There’s me.


It’s not even lust, really, although that’s certainly a part of the complex emotional attachment he has to one Rose Tyler. To be honest, he’s always been a renegade, refusing to follow the path of the Time Lords - but now he’s wandered so far afield that he’s tripped and fallen headlong into love.

For nine centuries, he’s balanced and juggled almost all of those sins and almost all those loves. With this one woman, he allowed himself to commit all of them when he fell from grace and into love with her.

He swells with pride every time she takes his hand, and every time he shows her something and she looks at him as if he hung the moon, like he’s so impressive, he is self-satisfied. He craves more of that look in her eyes, needs more of her admiration, and when he earns it through some impressive show or another he basks in her approval, soaking it up.

His hearts burn with jealousy every time any young man looks at her. He does his best to hide it, but knows that he fails. He lashes out - sometimes even at her - his anger and fear of losing her overriding his good sense. Nothing soothes him besides the gratification of her always returning to him, always taking his hand, always looking him in the eye and letting him know that she’s his.

He regrets his inaction for so long, not telling her just what she meant to him and how much he meant to her…not letting her know that while she was looking at him as if he hung the moon, he was fully convinced that the sun, moon and all the planets actually revolved around her. Gods knew that she was the center of his universe.

He loved her.

Now, though, he knows that the sin that has pushed him over the edge into ruin is lust. He’s loved before, he’s lost before. The pain of those losses were nothing like this, and it’s entirely because of the completeness of his love for Rose Tyler.

He loved her in every way it was possible to love another person.

His love was unconditional. He wished nothing but good for her, always. Agape.

He loved her as his dearest friend. He loved her as his equal. He loved her virtuously. Philae.

He was empathetic to her, his love for her strong and stable like a tree with deep roots. Storge.

But these types of love were nothing new. He’d felt these many times before, and withstood the loss of the people he felt them for.

No, the problem was that he’d loved Rose Tyler intimately, their bodies rolling together in joyful, sweaty tangles. He’d loved her because she was beautiful, gazing at her for hours while she slept beside him. He’d loved her passionately, his hearts burning for her. Lust. Eros.

And while he’d committed most sins before in his lifetimes, and he’d loved in most ways, he’d never loved and sinned in every possible way until Rose Tyler.

Now, as he stands in a ruined room with his face pressed against a blank wall, he knows that eros and lust have spelled his destruction, and he will never, ever recover.

12th Doctor Morning Cuppa... Eyes Closed...

So after a bit of a discussion with one of my dear followers  @samuraiwarrior I was encouraged to post my extensive pictures of PCap as the 12th Doctor.

Since this is quite an extensive collection I thought I would use this opportunity to organize my folders so I can find things a bit easier.  Because there is nothing worse then knowing you have a great picture but you can’t bloody find it because you forgot where you put it.  (yeah that has happened to me many many times)  

I do admire the 12th Doctor’s eyes but what I find so interesting is how his demeanor changes when his eyes are closed.  He isn’t the “oncoming storm” he looks more vulnerable. When his eyes are closed you see that he is ancient and amazing.  It makes me want to give him a great big hug.    

                                    “The Closed Eyes”

Good Morning and Kissy Kiss my dear followers.