The Girl That Waited - First Book: Leila Pond is Amy's little sister. When Leila was 7 she meet The Doctor when he crashed in her back yard. He promised to come back in five minutes but he didn't return, and the years have passed before he came back. After they saved the world, The Doctor took her, Amy and Rory to adventures. Note: There will be no River Song.

𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙥𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙪𝙥𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙤𝙚. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙡𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚. ･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Evangeline Pond had always wondered why she had been so drawn to the stars. She felt this gravitational pull towards them as if she was meant to be up there alongside them. Unbeknownst to her that it wasn't the stars that was calling her but a certain mad man in a blue box. Eleventh Doctor X Oc Soulmate Au 𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙣𝙤 𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣'𝙨 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙨... 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙜𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚. ･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ Best Rankings: #1 in DoctorWho ~ 24/08/23 #1 in Dw ~ 24/08/23 #1 in Darkphoneix ~ 27/07/25 #1 in Whovian ~ 23/08/25 #1 in Eleventhdoctor ~ 13/07/24 #1 in Tardis ~ 15/08/24 #1 in timelord ~ 27/10/25 #1 in Phoenix ~ 20/06/25 #1 in Doctorwhofanfiction ~ 02/08/25 #1 in Riversong ~ 05/08/25 #1 in Amypond ~ 23/08/25

BOOK 6 OF THE LOST ANTHOLOGY. Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay. Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad. Christina Rossetti, Remember Many have known me under many names, and even a few different faces. I have been small, slight, a snowstorm trapped in a body of glass that broke more times than could be counted. A girl with hair of fire and a shattered mind that had no idea what had just passed, and what had occurred centuries before. A tall warrior who would fight until her end and beyond it, just to protect those that she loved. Now I share a face with another dead being, only they truly have passed, and I remain in their stead to pick up the pieces of both our lives. It means nothing, not in the grand scheme of things, because there is no way to stop what is coming, and I doubt I could do it anyway. So I stay as I always do, the Remembrance of all that has come to pass, and the sibling that must keep order to a chaotic existence. As always, even with a destination in mind, the Doctor and I are Lost In Wanders.

If blood is thicker than water, then how thin is it possible to make it? Because I was exiled from my home at the age of nine for being little more than a well read killer and honestly? To this day, at seven and a half centuries, give or take a decade, I can agree with the judgement they put upon me. I just never did much to exceed that expectation, only seal it in stone and carry it like the eternal stone of Sisyphus. Dick of a guy, by the way. From the red of the most crimson rose petals and the blood in your veins, know one thing before you read this beginning to the end of my story. It is not the same as you would normally hear. I am the Archer at the Fall of Night, and a Witch who takes no shit. Sagittarius Pierce. Killing is my purpose and all I am good at. Hope you don't mind. I sure as hell don't.

The storm comes and I follow, for wherever we go, danger tends to find us. When I came to Earth to try and find something that had been taken from me, I never expected to end up stuck there. Stuck in a boring little city, with the annoying Butler, the lovable and cheerful student, and my Dad. A man who left me and my Mum six years ago at the very first sign of a daybreak. I definitely didn't expect to end up finding out that I was the daughter of two of the most famous, and infamous, adventurers in the universe. Where they went, danger wasn't far behind, and it turned out that was a trait I could inherit. Good thing I had a danger sense that kept me running faster than it.

Fifth in the Remembrance Lost Series When the Remembrance walked willingly to her death at Lake Silencio, she left behind a family. Her mother and father in law, Amelia and Rory Williams, her wife and murderer, River Song, and her brother. The Doctor. And where she may have left me a task and access to her life's work, I do not believe that she intended for me to inherit her familial connections. Which means when the Daleks enlisted me as a telepath and telekinetic to assist them in destroying the Asylum, I was not happy that they were made aware of who exactly I was. The Remnant of Remembrance. My name is Ellody Croft, not Elizabeth Caine, the fact that I exist in the first place is testament to the fact that she is no longer a part of the universe. But try telling that to her brother. But there is only so much that I can add to the Archive by myself, trapped in only my small corner of the wide, expansive unknown, things that the Remembrance never found herself. Things that I could discover if I accepted the Doctor's offer to leave my clocktower home and move into the TARDIS, with direct access to the Archive and Matrix that I was uploading new pieces of research and mythology into already. I am not Elizabeth Caine, but I do have a job to do and my own history to escape. Let us just hope that the Doctor will not get me killed the same way he did his sister, for what could there be after just a Remnant?

Have you ever wanted to know the answer to something? Been so interested in a topic that you stayed up well past your bedtime to research why something was the way it was, or if it was possible for it to ever be anything different? I have. That's why I got started, the Remembrance. I was only supposed to be the Chronicle of our History, so everyone could have the same access to learning as Time Lords did. It wasn't supposed to just be for me, or them. It was for everyone. I guess that naivety is what very quickly turned the wintry Elizabeth into the small and broken Eliza. The Remembrance of the Dead. My love of learning and Archiving quickly got turned against me when people showed what they could all do with even the simplest of things. Teach someone to make fire? They'd burn down their neighbours and rule with a red hot fist, until someone else learned and fought back. War and carnage ensues. But that's just it, isn't it? Knowledge is powerful, and it is always too tempting to misuse that power over someone lacking in it. This is the story of my brother and I, Lost in the Temptation of learning, where perhaps we went a little too deep for our own good. And one of us would say the price for the secrets to be kept.

People often believe that I'm lovely. That I'm the nice one. I'm not. My name is Professor Elizabeth Caine, the Remembrance of the Dead, and what parts of me are left Time Lord instead of just a computer are far from lovely. You see, my life never allowed me to keep these parts of myself, because between my husband beating me to the point of miscarriage, my brother regularly blowing up the universe and all the constant strays he brings home, I have had to pick away anything fragile to the point I am as cold and as hard as the Matrix that I was once a part of. If I wanted to, I could make you stand before your greatest fear until your heart gave out from terror. Or balance on a tightrope when you've just spun around like a top. I could take whatever I wanted without a care and the only reason I don't is because I know it will upset my brother who did his best to teach me right from wrong. I may not be lovely, but I am still Lost In Translation of changing the programming of who I was into who I am now. Let's see if this time I can work it out.

I imagine my eyes look blank As if my brain didn't wake this morning When I opened my lids, lifeless Like painted glass, fixed Like artistic installations on my face The surface impenetrable, distant Emotionless But what people don't recognise Is my hollow eyes is the deception The lie of dilated pupils Misinterpreted as an absence I am not absent I'm just lost in the caves of consideration Deep, wandering the walls of brain matter Pondering at a level too sensitive To open without the words of a poem. --Leanne Rebecca. As a logical minded computer, I find it hard to be creative. My mind relies on numbers and coding, linked to The TARDIS, and formerly, the Matrix. So working out the words to explain me now, as a person who is suddenly left mute and unable to explain how I am still here, just... Wandering, this poem seemed the best option. You've read about how I was lost in time. Now learn how I was Lost In Thought.

Waking up is always hard. Always. But waking up in a hospital bed, next to a scarily happy bloke who seems to be the smartest man alive, even though he's a patient himself, is even harder. And then getting taken to the moon, threatened by rhino policemen and nearly getting killed by an old lady who drank blood through a straw? Well. It's a good thing that my life got a lot weirder after that, especially when you can't tell the difference between then and now, while travelling through time. I'm Lillian-Bethany Reacher, Professor of just about everything, ex teacher, fired for disagreeing with the curriculum, and now suffering with Temporal Detachment, where you don't feel the passing of time, or understand the concept. And lets just say, that makes it a bit hard to get along with the designated driver. The Doctor.