password to view trailer: tardis
The divisive Doctor Who Series Nine finale “Hell Bent” overhauled and repurposed as a tidy 24-minute instalment that does away with The Doctor breaking his no-kill code, man-baiting gender jokes and female general, the diner TARDIS etc, the focus is entirely on The Doctor’s quest for the truth regarding The Hybrid, and making the decision to determine Clara’s fate for her
Author’s Note: Ok, this probably isn’t going to go the way it’s conveyed in the series twelve trailer, but a desperate ‘shipper can dream can’t they? Enjoy.
The TARDIS’ radiant emerald yellow light diminished and the central column gently came to a halt, the whole of the interior almost drowning in pitch blackness were not for a vibrant blue light.
The Doctor’s back came very close to leaning against one of the columns, her head was titled back, and her right hand was clenched, as if she were trying to draw enough strength to physically attack an unknown force that was driving her to an intense discomfort.
As a child, she had ran away from the untempered schism, as an elder with the temperament of a child, he had stolen away a ship and took his granddaughter to the stars. She was fearless in that instant.
When the time came to let her grandchild go, she had no fear there either
In thwarting the terrors of Mondas, she had faced the first of many deaths with just as much bravery.
This was an altogether different feeling.
This was a different kind of fear, a fear that rivalled the one forged in the caverns of Metabelis III.
A fear she wasn’t sure she could conquer.
Her face was a complicated jigsaw, changing expression to match the unease in which the anxiety had swept over her.
She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach, she felt a tremble in her hand, sensations of pain that only drove her to distraction, and set her on course for confusion.
There was anger and resentment towards this feeling, there needed to be a counter emotion, a strong show of force, an urge to resist and reject that fear, but it was proving a trying task.
Yaz couldn’t know, Ryan couldn’t know, she needed to hold it together for them, and for one other in particular.
That significant other soon walked into the room, whistling a few Broadway show tunes to himself.
“Hey Doc, what’s with the lights being out in here? We’re almost ready for supper…good on Ryan for paying, I’m skint. We could do with a few egg and ham sarnies from Greggs’, something to chew on while on the go, y’know?”
The Doctor didn’t dare turn around; she didn’t want to subject him to her pain when he was in such jubilant spirits.
But he could sense the disquiet in her soul, and he gently perched himself down where she sat and, seeing that she was now trembling, leaned over and placed a hand over her shoulder.
“What’s the matter Doc?”
The Doctor gently slid over to her side, leaning her head gently on Graham’s shoulder.
“Something’s coming for me…I can feel it” she whispered to him.
The two lay there, precious minutes ticking by, minutes that could be spent reassuring Yaz and Ryan that things were OK and they could go out for sandwiches.
The Doctor’s fears hadn’t left her, but she knew the courageous man providing her warmth in the uninviting darkness, both inner and outer, would never leave her either.
She could feel it.
This cut makes use of superfans Youtubers Oliver Comet and Confession Dial to prove you with the most unique cut of Day of the Doctor perhaps ever assembled. Classic Doctors, the near-entirety of Night of the Doctor, a clearer and more concise transition from War to Nine, it’s all here for you on this, the 56th anniversary of our favourite tv programme, so get in.
She stood there, facing the black void, her temper in check, her will as strong as the force itself.
In her mind, Luke Skywalker’s words echoed around her, instructing her to remember sage advice
‘Confronting fear is the destiny of the Jedi’
He was right.
Her fear was real, equal in strength to her iron will, even as she managed to keep it in check, it could be sensed, it could be exploited.
Especially by who was behind her.
The black candle, the one who ignited the spark of the force within her, causing it to burn brighter than anything had managed before or since.
His prescience was as soothing as it was overwhelming, she could taste his raw spirit within her senses.
She dared not turn around, to do so would be to look into his eyes and give in to the burning, her will would be his, and she would be content to let go.
The Falcon flew towards her, it turned, the hatch to the back of the ship opened, the exhaust causing a gail that swept much of the First Order aside, all except Kylo, the candle, struggling to stand firm, but making more of an effort to do than all around him.
He desired her; he waited for her to turn to him, to lock eyes, to share her will with his.
Rey’s instincts kicked in, she made a dash for it.
There was but one leap required to make it to the falcon, a leap that would take her beyond the candle, and towards the stars.
She didn’t know which she’d feel safer with.
The stars were cold, they could suffocate you if you made but one crucial error in the calculations, you would fly forever, but your soul would be extinguished, your body physically frozen, you would belong to the merciless night.
Or she could turn, to greet the candle, to bask in the warmth of his intoxicating will, and lose herself to the iron grip of the side that consumed his being.
She knew the Jedi way was to reject such temptation, she knew she had to confront the cold.
So she chose to brave the night.
She turned from Kylo, towards the falcon
And in the space between the candle and the stars, she wondered how many chances there remained to take possession of the flame behind her.
password to view: chase
zaredit 
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