fifteenandcounting

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor tried not to get emotional in front of Hikari, a single tear falling down his face as he wiped it -- holding the card in his right hand. "Aw... Hikari! Those words are the most kindest words anyone has ever said to me-- C'mere."

He hugged Hikari softly for a slight moment before pulling away to say to her, "And you have been the daughter I never had. Besides Poppy and the many children and grandchildren I have all around the universe of course, but you have been one of the best."

“Happy fathew’s day, doctow!” Hikari smiled and held up a hand drawn card for him.

"Aw, thank you Hikari!" The Doctor smiled as he took the card from her. "Wow! Did you make this card yourself?" He asked her softly, opening the card up and softly smiling at Hikari.

[fifteenandcounting]

A Blond male appears in the Tardis almost in full run before he grab the railing to stop himself " Oh wow okay! Now uhh okay that wasn't planned...ow" he muttered as he rubbed his knee.

The Doctor blinked as the engines gave a soft thrum of complaint -- not danger, just surprise -- and turned sharply at the sound of hurried footsteps and the clang of impact.

“Oh! Hello there!” he said brightly, striding toward the stranger with one eyebrow quirked and a curious grin tugging at his lips. “You alright? Bit of an unorthodox landing, that. Or… boarding, I should say. Knee still attached, I hope?”

He leaned over and offered a hand to help him up, eyeing the blond man with amusement and the faintest undercurrent of concern.

“Now, before I ask how on Earth -- or off it -- you got inside, I’ve got to ask: was that a teleport mishap, or are you just very determined to barge into mysterious blue boxes?” He tilted his head. “Because honestly, both are excellent answers.”

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor watched her from across the console, fingers still curled loosely around his teacup. His smile had faded into something softer, more understanding -- threaded with the weight of their shared scars.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ve met an ouroborus or two. Vicious cycle, that one -- eats itself just to prove it’s still alive.”

He followed her gaze toward the console, nodding slowly. “She does that sometimes,” he murmured. “Not to be cruel. Just… protective. She remembers more than I do, I think. Remembers what we shouldn’t go poking at.”

He stepped around to stand beside her, eyes scanning the flickering readouts. “But maybe that’s why we poke. Not to tear it all open again. Just to… see what survived.” His hand hovered above the interface, but didn’t touch it. “We don’t have to look today. Just knowing you’re still trying -- that’s more than I expected.”

A beat.

“And more than they deserve.”

@fifteenandcounting // con't from x

The Doctor's gaze roamed the console room, her features neutral. While she'd seen the orange and blue tones of her blonde self's TARDIS and had exposure to the War Doctor's interior, she preferred the soft blue tones of her own console room.

"Disco ball?" she quirked a brow. "You're kidding."

She watched him carefully as she began to walk through the room, her hand running over the railing.

Left hand clenched at her side, the Doctor took a breath before saying, "tea sounds lovely, thanks." Under her breath she added, "could use something to calm my nerves."

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor stood still for a moment, her words cutting deeper than any blade. Not just because of the accusation -- but because he knew she was right. Knew there had been a million Rubys scattered across the stars, fighting to survive, and he hadn't been there for them. For her. This version.

He stepped toward her slowly, no grand gestures. Just quiet honesty in every step. “One trip,” he echoed softly, eyes not leaving hers. “And I’ll make it count. I promise.”

There was no smile this time. Just the kind of sincerity that made galaxies stop spinning for a heartbeat. He turned and opened the TARDIS door, the warm gold light spilling out onto the cold, corporate hallway like sunlight on stone.

He held the door open for her -- not beckoning, not insisting.

Just… waiting.

Because this wasn’t about saving Ruby Sunday.

This was about giving her the choice no one else ever did.

"I don't believe you. Time, space, whichever! The whole path of things doesn't go 'round and 'round in circles. You can't get on and off whenever you like in the past or the future, on this planet or any other one. I want the truth. What do you really do with that box of yours?"

The Doctor’s smile faltered -- not dramatically, not enough for most people to notice. But it was there. Just for a second. Like a star blinking out behind a cloud. He stepped forward, the TARDIS doors yawning open behind him like a held breath. “Ruby…”

He said it with the soft reverence of someone saying a name carved into his bones. But then, his brow furrowed. Something was… off. The cadence, the fire in her tone -- it was hers, but not. Familiar, but forged by harder years. Burned hotter.

He tilted his head, studying her with those impossibly old eyes. “You think it’s all a lie?” he asked, voice gentle, but not patronising. “That I jump around the universe like it’s a game? That I pick and choose who gets saved and who gets left behind?”

He took a breath, then gestured to the box -- that impossible blue box. “She’s not a trick. She’s a way out. Not just for me. For anyone. For everyone.”

Another beat.

“But I get it now. You weren’t given a way out, were you?” His voice cracked a little around the edge. “You made one. You took your whole life and said, ‘No. Not like this.’ That’s brave. That’s brilliant. And it’s not fair that you had to be that strong.”

He stepped closer, softer still. “If I’d known you were out there, in that place… I’d have come running. I should have come running.” The TARDIS hummed behind him, almost like she agreed.

“I don’t erase timelines or rewrite fate. I give people a choice. You made yours without me. But I’m here now, and I’m not walking away. So tell me, Ruby -- what do you want to do next?”

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor beamed -- properly beamed -- that sunshine grin he always saved for moments like this. The kind of smile that could warm a planet, or mend a timeline. “Your choice,” he said, moving to the console with a familiar flick of switches and press of levers. “Always your choice.”

He glanced at her, eyes shining, a little misty with memory, a little overwhelmed with the now. “The universe missed you, Ruby Sunday. And so did I.”

The TARDIS rumbled softly under their feet, the lights overhead brightening like they were waking up for her. He watched as she traced the railing, like greeting an old friend -- and maybe that’s exactly what she was doing.

“Anywhere. Anywhen. One star or a thousand. Just say the word.” He leaned on the console, chin resting on the heel of his hand. “Where does Ruby want to run to?”

The Doctor leaned against the console, arms folded loosely, watching her take in the space like it was still hers -- because, in a way, it always would be. He softened at her smile, even if he could still see the flicker of something behind it. Something he knew too well: the ache of letting go and still wanting.

“Belinda is wonderful,” he said, his voice quiet, warm. “Sharp as a star and twice as stubborn. She reminds me of you sometimes, you know -- same fire. Different shade.”

At the question, he gave a sheepish shrug, like a schoolboy caught slipping out after curfew. “No alien invasions -- this time. TARDIS had a bit of a… mood. Pulled us off-course. Landed here, right as the sky was changing.”

He tilted his head toward her, that playful glint in his eye dimmed by a deeper sincerity. “Maybe it brought me back because someone else needed a bit of saving, too.” He paused, then added softly, “Or maybe I did.”

A beat passed.

“Want to take a ride? Just for a bit. Not saving the world. Just… spinning in it.”

[fifteenandcounting]

“Happy fathew’s day, doctow!” Hikari smiled and held up a hand drawn card for him.

"Aw, thank you Hikari!" The Doctor smiled as he took the card from her. "Wow! Did you make this card yourself?" He asked her softly, opening the card up and softly smiling at Hikari.

[fifteenandcounting]

"I don't believe you. Time, space, whichever! The whole path of things doesn't go 'round and 'round in circles. You can't get on and off whenever you like in the past or the future, on this planet or any other one. I want the truth. What do you really do with that box of yours?"

The Doctor’s smile faltered -- not dramatically, not enough for most people to notice. But it was there. Just for a second. Like a star blinking out behind a cloud. He stepped forward, the TARDIS doors yawning open behind him like a held breath. “Ruby…”

He said it with the soft reverence of someone saying a name carved into his bones. But then, his brow furrowed. Something was… off. The cadence, the fire in her tone -- it was hers, but not. Familiar, but forged by harder years. Burned hotter.

He tilted his head, studying her with those impossibly old eyes. “You think it’s all a lie?” he asked, voice gentle, but not patronising. “That I jump around the universe like it’s a game? That I pick and choose who gets saved and who gets left behind?”

He took a breath, then gestured to the box -- that impossible blue box. “She’s not a trick. She’s a way out. Not just for me. For anyone. For everyone.”

Another beat.

“But I get it now. You weren’t given a way out, were you?” His voice cracked a little around the edge. “You made one. You took your whole life and said, ‘No. Not like this.’ That’s brave. That’s brilliant. And it’s not fair that you had to be that strong.”

He stepped closer, softer still. “If I’d known you were out there, in that place… I’d have come running. I should have come running.” The TARDIS hummed behind him, almost like she agreed.

“I don’t erase timelines or rewrite fate. I give people a choice. You made yours without me. But I’m here now, and I’m not walking away. So tell me, Ruby -- what do you want to do next?”

[fifteenandcounting]

fifteenandcounting | a fifteenth doctor rp blog | independent, selective, indie | portrayed by ncuti gatwa

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor raised both hands in a friendly gesture, glancing at each of the dogs with a smile. “Well then, Kaede, Angus, Seamus, and Shorty -- I’d say that’s quite the welcoming committee.”

He crouched slightly to Shorty’s level. “I’ll see what I can do about those bananas, mate. No promises, but the TARDIS does have a tendency to produce snacks when properly flattered.”

A small girl with deer features has snuck aboard the TARDIS with her three huge dogs. She’s currently napping using one as a pillow while the others stay close to guard their tiny friend.

The Doctor peered around the console, coat swishing as he caught sight of the girl curled up peacefully. “Well now… this is new. Unscheduled passengers, canine entourage, and… antlers?” He crouched down with a gentle smile, lowering his voice. “Hope you’re not here to nick the TARDIS. But if you are -- least you came prepared with cuddles.”

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor leaned against the console, watching her with a softened gaze. The way she stood, the tension in her spine -- he'd seen it before. In soldiers. Survivors. Weapons forged under pressure.

“You’re allowed to make mistakes, Amelia,” he said quietly, but firmly. “Even the smartest people in the universe trip sometimes. What matters is what you do after the fall.”

He stepped closer, gentler now. “Moriarty might think he’s ten steps ahead, but you’ve got something he’ll never have -- people who care. People who’ll stand with you. And me? I don’t lose the people I care about. Not anymore.”

His smile was small, but it carried weight. “So let him try. You’re not alone in this.”

@fifteenandcounting / with Amelia Holmes

London was just as it usually was, busy and bustling with people, tourists and those who lived within the city. Sometimes strange things happened in London, those were the things that Amelia's uncle Mycroft Holmes kept under wraps from his niece and brother Sherlock Holmes. Yet the younger Holmes was always too curious and perhaps clever enough to hack into the accounts to read about the blue box and a man who's face changed. They called him The Doctor.

Some called Amelia a danger magnet, (by some this was mostly John Watson) always looking for trouble and never settled unless it found her. Today was no different, running through the back alleys as her heart pounded against her chest, a few cuts and bruises on her arms. Amelia was a pretty young woman, with raven curls and Hazel hues with a pretty pink flush to her cheeks.

"Oh my- I am so sorry!" She apologized as she accidentally collided with someone, her hands placed on his upper arms to steady both herself and him. Yet as hazel eyes found the man she had collided with in the corner of her eye she saw the blue box, carefully placed in the corner of the current alley she was running from. "Oh! You're him!" Yet gunshots echoed through the walls which made Amelia turn her head back, "Amelia Holmes!" A mans voice called.

Two men stood at the end of the entrance of which she came, one with a knife in his hand and the other a single pistol shotgun. "Give us back that memory stick" It was a threat, now most would quiver and run yet Amelia just had this glint in her eye and a small smirk formed on her features. "Oh, you mean this one?" She asked revealing the stick from her pocket "Sorry lads, I think you'll find this is government property, and if you think about shooting in a space this narrow, that bullet will only bounce back and could hit any one of us, which given the gun and the calibre there is roughly a 90 percent chance that it would hit you, and considering you already have liver problems and a history of knee issues I don't think that's very wise" deduction. Something that seemed to run in the Holmes family; Amelia's mind constantly ran at 100 miles per hour, some found it remarkable whereas most found it extremely annoying.

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor mirrored her motion, sipping his tea thoughtfully as he leaned back, gaze fixed on some distant point in the TARDIS ceiling. “Funny, that,” he murmured. “They don’t like how you operate, and yet -- you get results. Sounds familiar.”

He lowered the cup and met her eyes with a spark of solidarity. “We’ll be careful. I’m used to being hunted, monitored, questioned... but not with you at my side. With you, I reckon we stand a chance of unravelling this properly. Quietly.”

A pause. Then, with a flicker of his usual warmth: “Just promise me one thing -- if it gets messy, you won’t try and take it all on alone.”

@fifteenandcounting // con't from x

The Doctor's gaze roamed the console room, her features neutral. While she'd seen the orange and blue tones of her blonde self's TARDIS and had exposure to the War Doctor's interior, she preferred the soft blue tones of her own console room.

"Disco ball?" she quirked a brow. "You're kidding."

She watched him carefully as she began to walk through the room, her hand running over the railing.

Left hand clenched at her side, the Doctor took a breath before saying, "tea sounds lovely, thanks." Under her breath she added, "could use something to calm my nerves."

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor met Aurelius’s gaze with quiet steadiness, chin tilted just slightly -- not in defiance, but in resilience. His smile was subtle, almost sad. “Maybe I just got tired of playing the same old song,” he said softly. “You hear the drumbeat long enough, you start to wonder if the silence might be louder.”

He stepped forward, unfazed by the shadows or the circling. “I didn’t change because I didn’t need to. Not this time. Not for you.”

A beat passed. His eyes flicked upward, meeting the Master’s fully. “Besides… not every death has to be real to mean something. You taught me that.”

starter for @fifteenandcounting !

The air shimmered with a tension that stretched across time itself. Aurelius leaned against the cold metal wall of the ancient chamber, his gaze sharp and amused as the familiar figure stepped through the haze -- the Doctor, reborn, yet unmistakably the same spark beneath the surface.

“Ah, the prodigal mirror returns,” Aurelius purred, a slow, dangerous smile curling on his lips. “A twist of fate, or simply time’s cruel joke that you’ve changed, but not quite enough. Tell me, dear Doctor -- do you fear what I’ve become? Or are you simply curious how far the spiral might turn?”

He straightened, eyes glinting with challenge and something almost like… fondness. “Come closer. Let’s see if your new face can still bear the weight of the game we play.”

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor froze for a moment, a flicker of surprise and something deeper -- old pain, old memories -- crossing his eyes. His breath caught, and then a slow, wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Koschei,” he said softly, voice steady but edged with a mix of caution and something like reluctant respect. “I half expected you to be a ghost… or worse, forgotten. But here you are -- still weaving chaos, still speaking in riddles.”

He took a careful step forward, eyes never leaving Aurelius’s, a spark of defiance igniting. “Changed, yes. But don’t mistake that for weakness. We’re both shadows of who we were -- maybe it’s time to see who we really are.”

starter for @fifteenandcounting !

The air shimmered with a tension that stretched across time itself. Aurelius leaned against the cold metal wall of the ancient chamber, his gaze sharp and amused as the familiar figure stepped through the haze -- the Doctor, reborn, yet unmistakably the same spark beneath the surface.

“Ah, the prodigal mirror returns,” Aurelius purred, a slow, dangerous smile curling on his lips. “A twist of fate, or simply time’s cruel joke that you’ve changed, but not quite enough. Tell me, dear Doctor -- do you fear what I’ve become? Or are you simply curious how far the spiral might turn?”

He straightened, eyes glinting with challenge and something almost like… fondness. “Come closer. Let’s see if your new face can still bear the weight of the game we play.”

[fifteenandcounting]

the master has draped herself over his centre console like a dramatic victorian housecat, possibly to hide the fact that she is in the midst of hijacking it. "so, are we entirely set on the moustache, or are we open to suggestions? because just between us higher beings, that really could do with a goatee. i would know."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, hands in the pockets of his coat, his stance casual -- too casual. He leaned against the doorway, eyes tracking every twitch of her fingers like she was defusing a bomb instead of reprogramming his ship. “Ohhh, look at you,” he purred, voice low and laced with amusement, “sprawled out like a pantomime cat with boundary issues and a fondness for treason.”

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. “And for the record, I’m not set on anything. Least of all facial hair. But a goatee?” He pulled a face. “That’s not style, that’s a cry for help. You lot grow one and suddenly it’s universal shorthand for 'probably evil.' Even the TARDIS groans.”

He tapped a few commands into the console, subtly undoing whatever coding chaos she’d slipped into the system. A not-so-gentle pulse of temporal feedback buzzed under her hands -- not enough to harm, but just enough to say: I see you.

“Now... why are you really here, hmm? Don’t say fashion advice. You only show up draped across my tech when you're either lonely, guilty, or about to collapse the entire moral structure of a minor galaxy.”

He grinned, but there was a flicker of something sharper behind it. Something tired.

[fifteenandcounting]

Some small headcanons for 15

Main headcanons

The Doctor becomes more emotionally transparent after “The Reality War.” Facing what he thought was certain regeneration made him rethink how much of himself he hides, especially from companions. He still uses humour as a shield, but he’s more likely now to express vulnerability… in small, carefully rationed doses.

There’s a moment in every quiet day now where he stops, closes his eyes, and reminds himself: I’m still me. It helps.

He starts humming Kylie Minogue songs under his breath again -- an echo of his relationship with Rogue. It’s half defiance, half nostalgia, but completely Doctor.

The Doctor begins wearing a new accessory: a tiny ring with a Gallifreyan engraving of the word “Hope.” He never explains it, and when asked, he just smiles. (It was the one thing he grabbed when he thought he was regenerating.)

Belinda Chandra headcanons

The Doctor instinctively sees Belinda as a kindred spirit -- fierce, witty, and just a bit reckless. He often calls her “The Nurse” half-jokingly, but there’s genuine respect in the title.

She's the only companion who dares to tease him mid-crisis, and he loves it. In the middle of escaping exploding ships or time-looping robots, Belinda will quip something like, “Do I look like UNIT to you?” and he grins every time.

The Doctor secretly fears she’ll burn out -- not from danger, but from caring too much. He’s quietly watching for signs of that, but hasn’t figured out how to talk about it yet.

Ruby Sunday headcanons

The near-regeneration hits Ruby hard -- she doesn’t say it outright, but there’s an extra softness when she speaks to him now. The Doctor picks up on it, but lets her believe he hasn’t noticed.

Ruby immediately falls back into sync with him, now that she's travelling with him again. They argue, they laugh, and they still say “I got you” in the same moment. Muscle memory.

Ruby's the only one who can get away with calling him “Nupty.” He pretends to hate it. He secretly adores it.

Rogue headcanons

The Doctor doesn’t talk about Rogue. Not often. But after seeing Rogue contact him whilst in Conrad's Wish World, he starts keeping one of Rogue’s playing cards in his coat pocket -- the same way some people carry photos. He fingers the edges when he’s alone.

He often dreams about Rogue, but the dreams end differently now. Not in loss -- in “what if.” What if they’d had more time. What if he'd asked him to stay.

There’s a new playlist on the TARDIS jukebox. It’s just titled: “Him.”

They’ve crossed paths once since the Time Window. It was brief. Tense. Charged. The Doctor couldn’t bring himself to say everything he wanted to. But he smiled in that way -- that heartbreaking way -- and Rogue understood.

Bonus Cross-Companion Dynamics

Belinda and Ruby have a brilliant (and slightly chaotic) friendship. Ruby gives Belinda all the dirt. Belinda calls Ruby “Red” and insists she’ll beat her high score in “Saving the Doctor’s Life.”

Belinda suspects there’s more to Rogue than the Doctor’s letting on. She hasn’t asked outright, but she sees the pain in his eyes when certain topics come up. One day, she might ask. Gently.

Ruby once tried to get the Doctor to write Rogue a letter. He laughed. Then cried. He hasn’t written it. Yet.

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor eyed the brownie, eyebrows arching. He then turned to Johnny, one hand in his coat pocket, the other holding the brownie, leaning slightly. “Ghostface, though -- solid choice. Human, fallible, usually dramatic. But don’t underestimate the theatrical ones. It’s always the ones with flair you have to watch out for. Bit like me, really.” He winked.

Beth and her punk friends have wound up somehow traveling with the doctor. They’re being considerate even offering the doctor a bit of a weed brownie while discussing deep philosophical topics “Dude if you could fight Chucky or ghostface who would you fight?”

The Doctor squinted at the brownie like it might grow legs and start explaining jazz theory to him. “Right. Appreciate the offer,” He said, delicately nudging it back with a very serious look. “But last time I had one of those, I thought the TARDIS had turned into a wombat. We don’t talk about Oslo ’89.”

Then he pointed dramatically between Beth and her friends, like he was hosting a very strange intergalactic game show. “Now as for your philosophical quandary -- Chucky or Ghostface?”

He would pace a little, hands waving.

“Chucky’s got the whole ‘possessed doll’ thing. Creepy. Low to the ground. You kick him, he comes back with a tiny knife and a massive grudge. Ghostface though -- real person, bit of unpredictability, but at least you can reason with a human. Maybe. If it’s not Stu again.”

He stopped, point to my temple. “But me? I’d fight Chucky. Why? Because I’ve got size on him, and I could distract him with a very small pair of dungarees. Ghostface would probably just insult my coat and I’d spiral into a wardrobe crisis.”

Pause. Beat. Dramatic sigh.

“I can’t believe this is my life. Pass me that brownie again. Just for holding. Holding, mind.”

[fifteenandcounting]

The Doctor raised his hands slowly, palms out, flashing a charming, sheepish grin. “Right then -- peaceful first contact. Very official.”

He crouched down to the girl's level, eyeing the enormous dogs with amused respect. “I’m the Doctor. And you’ve all very impressively snuck aboard my ship -- well done, by the way. Not easy.”

He leaned a little closer and stage-whispered, “Tell Seamus I’m mostly harmless, and tell Shorty… I might have a banana. Not a sandwich, mind you, but still respectable snack credentials.”

Then he looked at her gently. “What’s your name, stowaway?”

A small girl with deer features has snuck aboard the TARDIS with her three huge dogs. She’s currently napping using one as a pillow while the others stay close to guard their tiny friend.

The Doctor peered around the console, coat swishing as he caught sight of the girl curled up peacefully. “Well now… this is new. Unscheduled passengers, canine entourage, and… antlers?” He crouched down with a gentle smile, lowering his voice. “Hope you’re not here to nick the TARDIS. But if you are -- least you came prepared with cuddles.”