I’m forcing myself to get up in a few hours so,
             my bed is calling my name right now — night,
             lovelies! Hopefully, the things in my askbox will be
             finished tomorrow and I can finally get on to replies.

             ~ later, nerds ♡♡♡ ;;

devouringstate replied to your post “™’”

" — Superficial wound. ‘M fine. Do I need to tell you you should see the other guy, or is that a given. " [ l mao bye ]

                     Undoubtedly, in a situation such as this one, her wellbeing is a number one priority. Of course, he knows that she can handle herself ; but his concern for her is doubtless and, rather hesitantly, he moves towards her.

                                          ❝ Are you going to tell me what happened or am I going to have to guess? 

          Rather swiftly, the Doctor settles into an unwavering attention towards her ; instinctively, his hands dive into his trouser pockets before he continues.

                                          ❝ Guessing games get less fun when violence is concerned. ❞

                     Oh, Doctor. Always the [anti]hero.

send a ♒ and i will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.


           ❝ There’s blood on your shirt. 


♒ idk who for U DECIDE

send a ♒ and i will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.

           ❝ You look like you need a hug

send a ♒ and i will generate a number for what my muse will say to yours.

           You really need to go to bed


Doctor. There's a - thing - in the wardrobe. With scales, and I think there were tusks.


                                          ❝ Wh—. 

                     He’s about to question her about what the hell she’s talking about ; what thing (and he’s going to assume this thing isn’t an object, but a being) could possibly be in the TARDIS with them when she, rather abruptly, continues.

          Scales and tusks ; well, if that isn’t the most magnificent thing he’s heard all day.

                                          ❝ Well, are we just going to stand here, or are we going to go say hello? It’s — terribly rude to leave someone in a wardrobe, you know. ❞


"What happened? Where are we?"

send me a sentence ; 

                                          ❝ What happened? Good question. I’m going to assume that it was something very not good

                     The TARDIS hasn’t done anything wrong, of course ; this is hardly her fault. No, unless the Doctor’s really starting to lose his marbles, something outside the box isn’t quite right. 

          And the two of them will be damned if they don’t figure out what, exactly, it is.

                                          ❝ As for what happened - could be anything. ❞

                     The Renegade strives for something to say ; whilst he attempts to grasp for comforting words, the darkness around them threatens to encompass them. He moves away from his companion, unaware of the deadly nature of the planet he’s willingly delving himself into.

          It’s a terrible habit of his, really ; diving into a world of danger and basking in it. He’ll deny it for as long as he exists, but this danger — this madness that seems to follow him around wherever he goes — makes him feel alive. 

                     All he can do is hope that the odds will be in his favour ; and these habits of his won’t rub off on her.

                                          ❝ I don’t know about you, but I’m willing to figure it out. Are you coming with me? ❞

          They both, instinctively, reach their hands out and meet somewhere in the middle. They walk into the unknown and, like every other day, night, morning, the Doctor tugs Bonnie further into the absurdity that is his world.

                     Neither of them seem to care.



"if you don’t rest, you won’t heal."

send me a sentence ;

                                          ❝ Am I really going to have to tell you not to worry

                     Though bruises may dwell on the skin of this oddity, the aches that accompany them are insignificant in comparison to his concern for the woman before him.

          He’s spent the longest time attempting to showcase the captivating and graceful side of roaming the cosmos to her ; it goes without saying that, when the grotesque nature of foreign planets becomes apparent, it’s terribly disheartening—!

                                          ❝ Resting isn’t something I do. You — You know that, Bonnie Bennett. Besides, I’m more worried about you than I am, myself. When you started travelling with me, I never really intended for you to see the bad things. ❞

                     When he actually hears the words fall from his very own lips, they sound odd. After all, she’s been travelling with him for quite some time now ; this is, essentially, nothing when compared to some of the things she’s witnessed.

          The Time Lord attempts to figure out what the entirety of this headache is all about and soon comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter.

                     The two of them are alive and, in the end, isn’t that the one truly important thing?

                                          ❝ I’ll be okay. I promise. ❞

          And, if one was to look closely into his words in that moment, there’s no doubt that they would uncover the hidden statement beneath them.

                     We’ll be okay.


"Mind if I sleep here tonight?"

send me a sentence ; 

                     Her voice is like a toasty cup of tea after a day of being out in the freezing cold ; he welcomes her words — basks in them, even — but doesn’t actually acknowledge them until a few moments later. 

          The Doctor, surprisingly, doesn’t mind her presence in his room ; whether she’s going to judge him for the staggering clutter of documents, diplomas, files, certificates, diaries and contracts — well, that’s up to her. 

                     Soon enough, he’s standing from his place at his desk, discarding the book and allowing it to fold over and close. His attention, as of this moment, is entirely hers (he’s sure she’s loving it). His hair sticks up in different places ; disheveled, much like his clothes. 

          He buries his hands in his pockets and finally — finally — speaks up.

                                          ❝ S—sure. ‘S long as you don’t mind me walking in and out every now and then. 

                     Eventually, it becomes apparent that sleep isn’t something in particular that the Time Lord requires on a regular basis ; half of the people who are aware of this statement believe it to be an advantage whilst the other half think of it as a burden.

          He, on the other hand, hasn’t quite decided which boat he’s in.

                                          ❝ Shout if you need me, yeah? ❞

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