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Starships, Stakes & Sorcerors

Fan fictions based on Harry Potter, Doctor Who & Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Doctor Who etc

"I'd call you a genius except I'm in the room."

I write almost exclusively Ten fics. My favourite characters are Wilf, Donna and Jenny (the Doctor's daughter). I ship Ten/Rose, Luke/Jenny and Jack/Donna.

I have several one-shots, including a series of one-shots, posted, one chaptered story, and what was a collection of drabbles which has mutated into a proper plotted story on the go. Many more chaptered works in progress behind the scenes, but I've finally learned my lesson about posting prematurely, so I'll be sitting on them a while longer.

Collective Backstory

I've worked on some of the Doctor's past which I use as backstory for virtually every other fic I write, even if it's only hinted at. The backstory fics themselves are all one-shots. Reflection of His Soul, To Unseal Time and Killing the Cat (in that order) are best read together, whereas Some Names Are Better Left Unsaid can stand alone.

When a Time Lord's name is revealed,
Time itself will become unsealed ...
Worlds will crumble into dust,
Your home will burn, and it must.

Out of the fics I have planned for the future, the one most relevant to the backstory will be The Price the Lone Survivor Pays. When I begin posting that one, I will upload another Gallifreyan writing image. Anyone who works out what it says before I get to that particular chapter in the story gets a virtual sweetie!

Recoveryverse/Time Locked series

I've made some headway with Recovery recently, so much so I think it may be posted soon. The prelude, Blood, is posted on FFnet and Teaspoon.

Summary: After the toughest day the Doctor’s had since the Time War, he’s in a mess. Wilfred is the only one around to pick up the pieces. Physical recovery is one thing, though; finding the will to carry on is something else, even following a long-overdue reunion. Or maybe because of it.

Extract:

The Time Lord that had led the charge on Earth—Rassilon, was it that the Doctor had called him—stood high above on a podium, flanked by other Time Lords. The whole room was hushed as he stepped forward.

“Doctor.” He spoke in a cold tone. “You have been found guilty of the charge of high treason and genocide. Anything you have to say in your defence?”

The Doctor didn’t reply, but stared back into Rassilon’s face determinedly. A long silence.

Rassilon finally spoke, breaking the silence in the hall. “So, nothing to say. Doctor, you are hereby sentenced to death by Triple Execution.”

There was no mistaking it now, even as far away as Wilf was, he could see the Doctor shaking.

“Any last words, Doctor?”

He spoke finally; although quiet, the words rang in the silent hall. “Someone had to stop you.”

“Begin,” Rassilon ordered.

Settling Down

Aforementioned 'drabble collection'. I really should stop calling it that now; although the chapter lengths are consistently between 400 and 1000 words (now averaging 600), the story's become more of a story than a collection of moments. I could potentially continue it forever, though I think I will probably wrap it up at some point--when and how are yet to be decided. I will be continuing it for the foreseeable future.

Summary: "I'd have to settle down. In a house or something, a proper house with, with doors and things. Carpets! Me! Living in a house! Now that, that is terrifying." The Doctor and Rose have lost the TARDIS. Stranded in th 42nd century, it's time to start thinking domestic.

Ship: Ten/Rose

Extract

"Where does this thing go?" The Doctor balanced a sort of flap in his hand, glaring at the row of holes that he was somehow supposed to fit another piece into.

"Need some help?"

"No," he said with gritted teeth. Pride would not allow him to give into her smirk. "If I can bring down a Kazutan Empire with nothing but a compass and a bottle of milk, I can do this."

"If you say so." Rose stretched out on the bed, going back to her book—well, the Doctor's book, one of the few that had been inside his pockets the day they'd lost the TARDIS.

The Doctor sighed, dropping the pieces and bringing the instructions right up to his face to make sure he was reading them correct. They were written in half a dozen different languages, and while the distant chameleon circuit was still translating with ease, the original wording was slightly wonky in each—meaning that each set of directions contradicted the others.

"I can do this," he muttered again, determinedly avoiding Rose's eye.

"For goodness' sake Doctor, it's only an airer," Rose said. "How would you fare with a flat pack dresser?"

"Good thing that's not on the list then," he muttered. "OW!" An attempt to pull apart two pieces he'd put together wrong had slipped and pinched his finger.

"Ready to admit defeat yet?"

"Rose, I've defeated Daleks and Cybermen and monsters from the deepest depths of the galaxy. I will not be outdone by a three-piece piece of plastic made for drying knickers."

That's My Girl

Deleted Scene

This story is now COMPLETED on FFnet and Teaspoon.

There is a NEW prequel, That's Not My Dad, also posted on both sites. There is a small possibility of a sequel, but we'll have to see--at present I only have a couple of scene ideas.

Summary: The Doctor thought Jenny was dead. He never expected to see her again. So it comes as a shock when he runs into her on Earth in the twenty-first century. But happy reunions are going to have to wait, as his daughter doesn't seem to know him at all—in fact, she thinks she's human …

Extract:

“Doctor?”

Sarah Jane entered the attic, where he was playing with her alien equipment. “Doctor, please be careful with that stuff.”

“What, don’t you trust me?” he said, sounding hurt. “Anyway, what did you want?”

“Rani rang.”

He half-dropped the gerfabrilator. “How’s it going?”

“Quite well, she says they’re bonding nicely over milkshakes. Jenny’s even invited her back to her house.”

“Brilliant.” The Doctor paused thoughtfully. “How long do you reckon before we know?”

“Doctor, I admit it does look hopeful, but it might be a while still.”

“Please don’t tell me to be patient,” he muttered. “I hate it.”

“Being patient or being told to be patient?”

“Both.”

“I’m not. Try and take your mind off it.”

“Why do you think I’m up here? By the way, did you know you’ve got a deactivated bomb in this lot?”