Old (A Tentoo Drabble)
Old (A Tentoo Drabble)
Pairing: Tentoo/Rose mentions
Rating: G
Old. It's amazing how odd that word sounded to him now.
Before, when he'd thought of old, he'd thought of centuries, of planetary histories and the births and deaths of stars and galaxies. He'd thought of an ancient, nearly extinct race, who could live for many thousands of years, each with thirteen faces. He'd thought of how many faces he had left, and how many centuries, and how alone he would be.Old used to terrify him. Now, though, old was different.
Now, he thought of years, of houses and cars, and pictures from a Polaroid camera. He thought of another race, who lived for less than a century on average, each with only one face. He thought of the fact that now he only had one face, and much less than a century left...and someone to spend that time with. Old doesn't scare him as much anymore. The Doctor touched his face. He touched the chin that was covered in morning stubble after not being shaved in three days. He touched the corners of brown eyes he'd grown so used to seeing, suddenly, it seemed, covered in small wrinkles. He touched brown, spikey hair that was just beginning to grey.And he marveled at it.
Fifty years ago, this hadn't even been a possibility for him. Thirty-five years ago, it'd been an aching, impossible fantasy. Thirty years ago, it'd become a terrifying and strange new reality. Now, he looked at himself in fond awe once again.He was getting old. He, the Doctor, Last of the Time Lords, 900 year old alien, was finally getting old. And he was happy about it.
Someone knocked on the open bathroom door. He looked over to see a brown haired woman leaning against its frame, arms crossed over a blue pajama top. She smiled at him and raised an eyebrow.
"Morning. Why're you starin' at yourself?"
He smiled and raised an eyebrow right back.
"Morning. I'm just appreciating how handsome I am."
"No you're not," she laughed, "You were touching your wrinkly eyes. You're thinkin' about how old you're getting."
He scowled playfully. "I am not!"
"Are too!" she grinned, walking over and hugging him. He sighed, looking back at the mirror and putting an arm around her. "Are to," he conceded.
The woman looked up at him thoughtfully."It still amazes you, doesn't it?"
"Oh, yes. I think it always will."
They stood there for a minute, looking in the mirror, before she finally patted his shoulder and gestured at his striped pajamas."C'mon, get dressed. You promised we could show Martha and David a new planet today."
He sighed again, smiling into it. "I did, didn't I? Alright." He stepped back from her and walked to the wardrobe in the adjacent bedroom, pulling out a familiar blue set of garments. "Old suit good enough for it, Deej?"
"Always, Dad," she said fondly, and with a last chuckle left the room to find her kids and make sure they were ready.
Another woman appeared at the door and smiled. This one was blonde, with little wrinkles around her eyes, too (that he of course never mentioned).
"Hello."
"Hello."
Rose came in and gave him a little kiss.
The Doctor took his wife's hand, like he always had, and always would, and went off to find the rest of his greatest adventure, and show them a new planet. Just like he'd promised.
Just like it should be.
More Posts from Likepuppetsonastring and Others
Can we talk about how well this Coraline-”Mother”-esk style compliments Dark’s canon characteristics? A manipulator who will make everything “perfect” for you in order to get you to do what he wants, in return for a “small” concession (ie, letting him in, as opposed to the eye-sewing thing).
Also I just really love this art style.
You could stay here forever . . .i͚͑́͛̓̃͝f̎̓͆̀̔̄̕ y̡̙̙̪̻͆̇̾͒͢͝o̰̍̀̈́̀͠ͅǘ̵͍̭͙͉̻͒̔̃̈̉̈́̚ ẘ̛̰͔̖̥̙̍͋͐̑͑̌̚͢͡ȁ̱͓̳̬̘͓̓͆̈̂̀n̉̒͡t́̄̔͂͗ ť̺͙̠̠͍͆̔̎̄̇͟͢o̴̬̪͖̘̍͂̂̀͝ͅͅ .̨̢̡̭͍̤̦̬̞̺̽͗͆̔̆͂̈́̕ .̷̡̡̞̘̱͉̪̱͚̍͗͂͑̈́̚͘͝
(sorry for the nightmares.)
“I would gladly read fanfiction of this exact scenario.”
Damn, Mark, you beat us fanfic writers to the punch. And you did it better (AND MORE PAINFULLY) than we would have.
Who Killed Markiplier: Mini Update
Lots of people are throwing around the idea of Damien being Dark, and of the Colonel being Wilford. And other people are saying that Who Killed Markiplier could be an origin story for the Egos. Lemme just say, I would love for this to be true. I would love for Mark to have concocted some elaborate backstory for his sides.But I think it’s highly unlikely. I really don’t think the Egos are involved at all (The Jims excepted, of course.)
However, I still love the thought. I would gladly read fanfic of this exact scenario.
all i can think of is a vampire stopping suddenly in front of a mirror in a store, and their human friend, who isn’t aware of their condition, just gets very confused.
“Craig? You good? Why are you staring at yourself like that? ...Dude you’re crying, are you okay?”
And the vampire is just crying bc it’s bittersweet. They look just like they remember looking, but now they’re so pale and their hair is so different and the clothes don’t match the face anymore, and it suddenly makes them realize how very old they are, and how very alone.
Fun Vampire Fact; the reason that Vampires traditionally cannot see their reflections in a mirror is because mirrors used to be backed with a reflective layer of silver — which, as the metal of purity, would not ‘interact’ with Vampires, who are the Devil’s work.
However, modern mirrors have used aluminum as their reflective backing for many years now — and aluminum is not a ‘picky’ metal at all. So Vampires are able to see their reflections in modern mirrors.
Announcement!
So I originally set up this account to be my Doctor Who Fic blog, but I thought why not make it a general fic blog, as I’m writing a lot more Supernatural at the moment? So I’m going to be posting a couple of my SPN fics here. Lemme know what you think of them!
And Another One!
And with that, we have Day 1!
Source: Mark’s tumblr
When you brighten this one up, there’s a looot to talk about, so let’s do that:
No. 1: “Kill”, apparently an omnipresent now. I’m almost sure at this point we’re dealing with Google, at least in some capacity.
No. 2: That’s the same floor as the last picture, which I assumed was a kitchen floor in my last post, but apparently it’s just the normal floor of the foyer. So again, same location. This is all taking place in one house/mansion/castle/thing.
No. 3: The light from this lamp drew my eyes immediately, with it’s red-and-blue tinge, a calling sign of Darkiplier. Coincidence? I highly doubt it.
No. 4: The statues. They look very typical of what we see in horror games, so is this a nod to Amnesia and others like it? Is it a hint that we’re getting a sort of horror game in the coming video? Or are they simply fortunate decorations? Whatever the case, the owner of this mansion is definitely rich and powerful. Is it Dark? Maybe the Host?
No. 5: Timestamp. Again, real time, and happening at 1 am. So all of these pictures were taking approximately 24 hours apart, and then released exactly 24 hours apart. This is a ransom note, and we’re the ransom. To save Mark, we’re going to have to travel here.
If Mark’s posted anything on youtube, or anywhere else, I don’t know it yet. Please enlighten me. And I’m so curious as to what you guys think is happening. Does this new picture change your thoughts, or add to them? Have I missed anything you see? Do you see anything differently than I do? Talk to me! I’m so excited about this, and I’m having so much fun.
About feedback and sending me headcannons, questions, submissions, prompts, etc.
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!
I love this?! I love seeing this kind of thing?! I’m glad you like my silly writing?! I would love it if you sent me headcannons?!
I don’t care if you’ve never spoken to me before, I’m totally chill with chatting with you guys, on and off anon! It makes me super, super happy when people like my stories or theories and ideas (it boggles my mind that some of my posts have 200-400+ notes, like how, and there’s 126 of you guys following me here?! why?! I love you?!), and I love being a part of the community and having conversations with people who love the same internet nerds and characters that I do. Send me all the things, ask me all the things, submit stories and theories and prompts and anything and everything, tag me in things, all of it, yes please! I love this.
I’M SORRY WHAT?! ONE OF MY FAVORITE FAN CREATORS IS WORKING WITH SEAN TO MAKE CHARACTER CONTENT?! HOLY SHIT?!
YES OHMYGOD YES
no you KNOW WHAT?? I HAVE MORE TO SAY!
So let’s talk about “What? Where am I?” Jack or whichever ego we’re watching today is clearly disconcerted to suddenly find himself recording, as if he’d been doing something completely different before and then just blinked and was here.
Now why does that sound familiar?
It’s interesting that this theme is continuing, and I’m curious to see where it goes from here, if it goes anywhere at all.
My only comment on today’s video intro is…
Henlo this gave me ideas.
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His voice was much croakier than it used to be. It was at the same time far too low, and just right. It was raspy and rough from disuse, or from strain, because all he ever did now was scream.
“Let’s go in the garden, you’ll find something waiting, Right there where you left it, lying upside down...”
He discovered that the old song’s lyrics were still stuck somewhere in his mind, and when he tried to pin down where it came from, he came up with an odd mix of faded memories; he was playing an acoustic guitar on the patio, badly, and his best friend was laughing and calling him a sap; she was dancing with the man she should never have fallen for, and he was singing in her ear, in the dark, far away from all the trouble that seemed to follow them constantly.
Most of the time, when he remembered them, the names he’d once owned and the faces that went with them, it would hurt. It would burn every fiber of his being until nothing remained but fury and hatred. He would be himself and no one at once, and it would tear him to pieces over and over again.
But today...
Today, he was just...sad. Not in pain. Not furious. Just sad. He was a boy who wanted to make his great city proud of him. She was a girl caught up in romance, with a ring on her finger and a rose in her room.
And in the hands of an old friend who’d just wanted to hear everyone laugh, and see justice served, was an old, nearly illegible ribbon, grey where it had once been black. They’d given it to him the night of the election,a joke then, but less so than the cruel one it had become.
“In little ways, Everything...stays...”
The voice that was all three of theirs, and no one’s, trailed off and went quiet. For once, his world was quiet.
FUCK this will never not hurt.
Sorry my handwriting is a mess! I might draw anti with antlers at some stage tomorrow like I could imagine Marvin cursing him with them at some stage cause he keeps making the Christmas lights glitch out
Thank you for the drawing!!! Your handwriting is fine!! And that would be hilarious. XD
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freshlypickledpancakes liked this · 9 years ago -
likepuppetsonastring reblogged this · 9 years ago
Just a writer obsessed with her characters, from Supernatural and Sherlock to the Dark Side of Youtube. Your source for the Egos of Jacksepticeye and Markiplier, theories thereon, and random oneshots and short series. I take requests!
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