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13thdoctorposts · 10 months

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Sometimes it’s important to know when to let a show go.

When 13 regenerated into 14 and had her clothes burnt off like a witch on a stake, sending a horrible message about women and gender RTD came out and said he did it to protect David from right wing media. Then the fans defended David coming back and that RTD would address why he had that face and why the clothes also regenerated, although I was upset with 13s regeneration I thought ok I’ll wait and see how this get handles. Because even though I don’t like the real world messaging maybe the in world messaging will be enough to make it ok.

But then what happens? We get a trans story for the very first story with very positive messaging for trans issues which is great but undermined by the fact RTD wanted to protect David from gender critiques by the right wing but didn’t seem to want to protect Yasmin Finney. So first David can’t wear Jodies costume for protection but then RTD has Yasmin live through being deadnamed in the show which she herself has said made her uncomfortable and then also gave her character the line of telling the Doctor to not assume pronouns… which any of the characters could have done but RTD chose Rose and then what happen? What always happens with the right wing, the pronoun line and the male presenting line are the ones that the right wing all go on about in every video, in every article… they deadname the character and then misgender and say horrible things about Yasmin… so RTD protects the 50+ year old white man who’s worn way more feminine things then 13 outfit in his career the media could use if they wanted to go after him but don’t protect the 20 year old Trans Woman? How people aren’t talking about how fucked up that is I don’t know.

Then we get no reason why the Doctor has that face and why the clothes regenerated on them. Then in their own regeneration… they don’t! They bi-regenerates and this time Ncuti does get the Doctor clothes, well half of them… why didn’t 15 regenerate with their own clothes? No instead we have the new Doctor walking around with no pants on… and why is it that 15 has to go pantless and not David? are we protecting David again? Perfectly fine to have a bunch of pics of 15 in his tighty whities and no pants but again David could not be seen in 13s full gender neutral outfit.

Then to top all this off theres no mention in the loves lost of Yaz… even though the Doctor chose to drop her off in a park 3 days ago after telling her if they could Date anyone it would be Yaz… is that not love lost? Was saying good bye to Yaz not an emotional trigger? Now people are saying thats because only the dead were brought up… Rose is not dead unlike Yaz Rose is not only alive in another Dimension but also got herself a Doctor… Yaz currently is mourning the Doctor while they cant even seem to remember she existed despite dropping her off 3 days a go… so they weren’t all dead… however Rose was over 1000 years ago and Yaz 3 days ago… what hurts more the lost of someone you loved but who is still alive from 50 years ago or the one you lost last week? What makes logical sense is the love you lost most recently hurts the most… and people dont need to die for you to hurt losing them from your life if you love them.

Now we have 2 Doctors and people are already saying they can’t wait for David Tennant episodes, so if you think the 10th Doctor overshadowed the other Doctors when he was no longer the Doctor how overshadowed do you think the first main Doctor of colour is going to be when lots of peoples favourite white Doctor ever is also a legitimate Doctor in universe existing at the exact same time with a TARDIS? Ncuti doesn’t event get to be the only Doctor during his tenure he has to share it with David.

The lastly no mentions of Yaz at all… seems shes completely forgotten and at the very end the Doctor says they are finally with their family the happiest he’s ever been… what a diss of every TARDIS team ever that the Doctor has found family with… your last crew you literally called your ‘Fam’, the Ponds you actually married into… Susan was your flesh and blood… but no this family you haven’t seen in 1000 years, of which only one of who was part of your TARDIS team are the ones you finally found family with and make you the happiest you’ve ever be? Literally at the exact same time the Doctor is sitting at that table saying all of that, Yaz is mourning the Doctor and not wanting to have left the TARDIS, but she doesn’t get a mention because for some reason if it’s a wlw relationship it means nothing and can be ignored completely.

Honestly by the end the Doctor just seems like a complete prick, and not in a 13 I’m dealing with internal trauma and I accidentally snapped way but just in a I’m a shit person way. Talk about compromised morals, people wouldn’t shut up about it with 13 but the Doctor just left a young woman to mourn them while being the “happiest they have ever been” grabbing themselves a new family and pretending Yaz doesn’t exist. Talk about shit morals. People say Chibs didn’t know anything from 12s era, which wasn’t true it directly affected the way 13 kept the fam at arms length but after watching this clearly RTD didn’t even know what happened in the episode 14 regenerated from 13 in and the previous episode Legend of the Sea Devils, because surely if you did, you wouldn’t not mention Yaz at all and give a reason why the Doctor wouldn’t go see her while she’s mourning them and just grabbing a new family and claiming to be the happiest you’ve ever been in the 2000 years of life you remember. Because that would make the character look like a prick, not a hero, which is exactly what happened. If RTD is the amazing writer people claim, he could have come up with a Yaz mention and a reason why the Doctor wasn’t going to see her.

I know not everyone was happy with the wlw representation with Thasmin but you know what’s way worse? Not even mentioning it or even acknowledging Yaz’s existence.

And to top it off I am so very very over the double standard of the fandom… this episode, had plot holes, had important things that weren’t explained… like why that face and why did the clothes regenerate… things that weren’t explained that weren’t so important like where did the sonic screw driver come from, why can it do all the things it now does… it had racism from both the Toymaker and Donna… what on earth was that line about ‘do you come in every colour’, was paced poorly, it clearly should have been longer and decided to mess with lore by creating bi-rengeration out of thin air and not explaining how it would effect things going forward or why it even happen, like a true WTF… if Chibs had done even one of these things, or wrote this episode the exact same way the fandom would be coming for him instead they are praising the genius of RTD not caring about any of those things, all the sins they claimed Chibs did and some of them on a bigger scale in this episode but the treatment of RTD is the polar opposite.

It’s unbelievably hypocritical, and makes the fandom look even worse for being so hard on the first female Doctor because none of this was acceptable for her but its not only fine but great with a male Doctor.

So I think it’s time for me to let this show go, and know it’s time to bow out. Because unlike the people who have been horrible about 13 for the last 6 years I understand sometimes you have to step away from something you love when its no longer for you and leave it for other people to love.

Im out with 13.

#13th doctor #thirteenth doctor #thirteen #13 #yasmin khan #thasmin #yaz #yaz khan #13 era #dw

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weepingchoir · 3 months

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DOCTOR WHO SERIES 14: A FULL SEASON REVIEW

Another decade, another frantic Doctor Who resuscitation. (Not that there were news of potential cancellation, but things must’ve been dire for the BBC to sell one of their most storied shows to the Mouse.) Chibnall is out, Moffat on retainer, Russell “Thee” Davies is in. The theme song is the best since Matt Smith, which, through weird and inexplicable coincidence, was also the last time I watched Who with any serious interest. Good start.

The Star Beast

While not technically part of the season, the specials preceding series 14 signal the beginning of a shift in tone and rules for Doctor Who, including the introduction of the new Doctor. Not yet, though. First we get an OLD DOCTOR FUCK YES DAVID TENNANT IS BACK.

I already know Tennant won’t stick around, and I’m glad. That would’ve stunk of Disney nostalgia-raking. Nevertheless, as a returning viewer, I’m grateful for the breakfall. “The Star Beast” doesn’t yet carry the magic that’ll characterize Gatwa’s series. It’s a standard scifi monster of the week serial, and the monster rules. Looking for returning companion Donna Noble, the Doctor runs into the Meep, a no-pronouns gremlin-Yoda puppet living in Donna’s shed, under the care of her daughter, Rose.

UNIT comes under attack by Kamen Riders. The Meep tears off the blorbo mask to reveal a genocidal dictator on the lam from the Intergalactic Criminal Court. It’s a hilarious turn in an episode whose emotional core relies on Rose’s transgenderedness. Pronouns are a real-time strategy game and evil space aliens are better at it than humans.

Quick dustup on weird plot shit: if Donna remembers the Doctor she dies. She has to remember anyway, in order to stop the Meep’s ship from taking off. Turns out that she’s since become immune to Time Lord neuron overload by offloading it on her daughter. Donna and Rose expel the toxic memories by harnessing their feminine emotional intelligence.

I don’t want it to land. Facing the Doctor, who was a woman one episode ago, Rose says that a man could never understand how she just harnessed the divine feminine. Nevertheless it passes, maybe because any representation of a transgender woman as through-and-through female is a gasp of fresh air. For better or worse, this also cues the season’s cardinal rule: what you feel is true is more important than what makes sense.

Wild Blue Yonder

The TARDIS crashlands at the edge of the universe and disappears when it senses danger, one of those things that it’s never done before and will only do again if it’s funny or cool.

The “edge of the universe” is a spaceship floating in ink-black, with Marvin the Paranoid Timebomb making its way down the hall, one step at a time. This is a great opportunity to ease us into the budgetful new Doctor Who, with sleek but understated shots of the spaceship’s exterior. When the Doctor and Donna split up to fix the ship, they converse with each other’s doppelgangers: “not-things” from beyond reality, looking to assimilate physics. Communication with the not-things goes awry as an eerie set of medium close-ups pull back to reveal their overlong limbs.

Backed with half a decade of set chemistry, Tennant and Catherine Tate ace all four characters in this bottle episode. Much of the runtime consists of the Doctor and Donna’s mind games against each other. It’s less a restatement and more a self-justifying exploration of why bother with a last hurrah for two fan favorites. Well-earned, too, as the Doctor nearly leaves the real Donna to die in the ship’s explosion. It’s impossible to be done exploring the fullness of a relationship. But one day, and soon, we will have to move on.

The Giggle

Two crucial stopgaps against the not-things. One, a line of salt on the floor, which the Doctor tricks them into thinking they can’t cross, since they’re sorta vampires. Two, cognitive dissonance. It’s hard enough for the uncreatures to assimilate beliefs, let alone simultaneous contradictory ideas.

The Doctor fears that, by invoking fiddly rules at the edge of reality, he’s opened a door for fell mythos. This episode stars the Toymaker, a villain from a partially restored First Doctor serial. Originally a Fu Manchu caricature, the new Toymaker is Neil Patrick Harris putting on a German accent, which he can always do, it’s never racist.

The Toymaker has snuck a mind-warping signal into every screen, starting with the 1925 Stookie Bill experiment. Now mankind is mad , reacting with explosive hostility at any confrontation. Over the last decade, as writers have moved from mocking subsets of people for being on phone to everyone being on phone, we’ve uncovered more cohesive portrayals of what 24/7 connection is doing to us. Writ large, more and more of us are looking to win arguments. Even losing is a thrill.

It’s a contrived plan for a villain whose power transcends mere limitless control over physical matter. The only thing that binds the Toymaker is the rules of the game. We can trace the evolution of TV drama by comparing his first appearance to his last, William Hartnell’s almost congenial gotchas to Tennant’s panic at genuine omnipotence. The Toymaker traps the Doctor and Donna in a theater for a puppet play about the many deaths of the former’s companions. The Doctor, ever the hero, denies them three times.

Well, are they dead? These specials have proven that, even in the megacorp mines, fan favorite returns don’t have to be Rise of Skywalker gruel. Donna, and the Fourth Doctor’s returning Mel Bush, bring necessary continuity to the transition into new-new Who.

Not everything, at least, has to end in tragedy. When the Toymaker commandeers the giant laser gun the government is cool with UNIT keeping in uptown London, the Doctor bigenerates, splitting into straight Tennant (presumably) and gay Ncuti Gatwa. Together they beat the Toymaker at catch, which banishes him for good.

From here on, we follow Gatwa’s Doctor. Tennant stays with Donna. There is movement in rest, organic, within. Their relationship may continue to develop, just where we can’t see it. Not everything is for screen consumption.

The Church On Ruby Road

Every time I see this episode’s title I get Hüsker Dü’s “Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill” stuck in my head, except the Inter Arma cover because that’s the first time I heard that. The Doctor is fortunate enough to run into one of the few actresses that can match his energy, Millie Gibson as Ruby Sunday: songwriter, orphan and ingenue. Ruby lives a zoomer kitsch apartment with string lights on the walls, alongside her adoptive mother and grandmother. She suffers from a curse of bad luck, bewitched by an airshipful of baby-eating goblins.

The Doctor and Ruby stop the goblins from eating a baby, to the tune of an R&B paean to Jabba-the-Hut, the only logical step from the Toymaker’s Spice Girls lipsync sequence. The goblins retaliate by traveling in time to eat baby Ruby, abandoned by her mother on Christmas day on the porch of The Church That Lives On Ruby Road. Watching Ruby’s mother go, Gatwa cries his series-first tear of silent grief. He’s very good at that.

The Doctor’s rule of no self-interaction has fucked his opportunity to let Ruby meet her biological mother. Pay attention, this’ll be on the test. Other than that, “The Church” is an easy, fun, low-stakes introduction to the Doctor’s companion and many of the season’s dominos, only some of which will receive a proper knockdown.

Space Babies

The first real ostentatious show of Disney budget is a quick but lush visit to James Cameron's Mesozoic. A CGI diplodocus doesn’t have to be bad. CGI baby mouths, on the other hand.

Budget cuts strand a colony spaceship, replete with babies in a bizarre state of semi-suspended animation: they’ve been toddlers for six years. Only accountant Jocelyn remains. The babies are terrorized by the Boogeyman, a snot monster generated by glitched-out educational software. Jocelyn almost airlocks the Boogeyman until the Doctor reminds her that it’s kind of her baby also.

The Doctor’s memory of Ruby Road changes to feature Ruby’s mother pointing at him. It starts snowing indoors, another magic plot puzzle piece. Cue tear of silent grief. There’s not much else to say about “Space Babies”. It’s a lot of terrible ideas, executed with functional neatness: quoting a friend, the platonic ideal of a Russell T 6/10.

The Devil’s Chord

1925 again! There’s a whole pantheon of Toymaker-type evil gods. This one’s Maestro, the god of music, played by a spectacular Jinkx Monsoon. Over the course of four decades, Maestro ruins music so thoroughly that even Abbey Road sounds like dogwater.

The Doctor and Ruby negotiate with the Beatles, who make dodgy gestures towards the whole of music being an embarrassing business. It’s never made clear how Maestro has convinced the world of this, or, like the Toymaker’s giggle, why they bothered when they have the power to eat music itself. We’ve crossed into the realm of magic. It’s not about the method, but the goal: within a hundred years, musicless mankind will self-exterminate to vent its anger, leaving Maestro to enjoy pure aeolian tones.

It’s hard to agree that music is the salve keeping mankind from abject violence when contending with the history of, Burzum, Chris Brown or Meni Mamtera. Nor does the idea that Maestro can be defeated by a seven-note scale available to basic Western music theory hold much water. “The Devil’s Chord” is an altogether less cohesive “The Giggle”, and only three episodes after its predecessor, too. On the other hand, as a piece of musical cinema, it’s a brilliant watch for Monsoon’s performance, the playful metanarrative gestures, and the closing number, ‘There’s Always A Twist At The End’.

Boom

On the ravaged planet of Kastarion-3, there is only war. A landmine vaporizes a guy, attracting an 'ambulance' automaton to euthanize his friend Vater by reducing him into an awesomely gross flesh tube.

Gatwa leaves the TARDIS in a super-sexy leather jacket and steps on a mine. What follows is ten agonizing minutes of the Doctor and Ruby figuring out the logistics of the situation. The Doctor can’t move off the smart mine or exhibit high emotion. On finding Vater’s tube, Ruby convinces the Doctor to let her hand it to him to use as a counterweight, in a move that almost kills them both. The pressure is immense, achieved with nothing but close-ups to tears of silent grief and a silly prop of a landmine with LEDs.

Vater’s daughter finds the duo, triggering the flesh tube to generate a grief counselor hologram of her father. Ruby gets shot while managing a haywire ambulance. The only way to get the ambulance to treat her is to admit that the Kastarians never existed. With a full third of characters dead, Cyber-Vater betrays its parent corporation to end the war. This is the most stressful Doctor Who gets, in all the best ways. For a second, and against all logic, I was even convinced it might be the end of Ruby Sunday.

“Boom” is the closest Gatwa’s Doctor has to a companion capsule episode. This focus on their relationship might’ve gone over even better if it’d been earlier in the run, especially given “The Devil’s Chord” has the opposite problem. I suspect the prime reason why it’s placed in an awkward middle slot is to not give away the game: “Boom” front-and-centers Susan Twist, who’s played minor roles in almost every episode since “Wild Blue Yonder”, as the face of the combat ambulance AI. There’s always a twist at the end, remember?

73 Yards

The Doctor’s always stepping on some bullshit. After intruding on a ritual circle, he disappears, leaving Ruby alone with a mysterious woman that’s always standing 73 yards away. Everyone who talks to the woman flies goes no-contact with Ruby: a hiker, a bar-goer, UNIT, even, in a harrowing turn, Ruby’s adoptive mother. So Ruby spends the next twenty years alone. Without her family, and also alone in this ethereal way where she’s meant to be on startlit adventures, not half-there on a wine bar date.

Gibson carries this mammoth episode on her shoulders, evolving from panicked 20 year old to middle-aged, purpose-driven mercenary. The closest thing to a co-star is the cinematography, following her eyes towards the woman-shaped hole in the near horizon. This is one of the subtler metanarrative moments of the season: the woman is impossible to photograph, blurry in pictures just as she’s never in focus for the camera.

Ruby makes up a mission: save the world from ‘Mad Jack’ Roger ap Gwilliam, a presidential candidate whom the Doctor off-hand warned would lead the world to nuclear ruin. Infiltrating, Jack’s presidential campaign, she maneuvers the woman into manifesting next to him, which makes him run screaming from office. The world is saved. Ruby isn’t. As she lays dying of old age, alone, the mystery woman is revealed to be herself, traveling back in time to warn the Doctor off the circle.

This is the furthest Doctor Who can stray from its own standards before becoming a different show altogether. The theme song doesn’t even play (shame). Not a coincidence, it’s also the episode to most demand that we trust emotion over logic, and it pays back that trust with dividends. It doesn’t matter that we never find out why there was a shrine to Mad Jack atop a cliff in Wales twenty years before his time, or the mechanism by which Ruby created a closed time loop. The important bit is the emotional resonance, the click of catharsis when we discover just enough details to let it rest.

Dot and Bubble

I feared, as “Dot” opened on a woman so dependent on social media that she can’t navigate her immediate surroundings without GPS, that this would be the Phone Bad episode “The Giggle” had managed to surpass. The truth is more complex: Finetime’s residents can afford to spend all day Whatsapping because they’re the offspring of another planet’s leisure class, here on permanent vacation.

Giant man-eating slugs have invaded Finetime, and the Dot-Bubble navigation system is walking people straight into their maws. Our lead is neither Gatwa nor Gibson, but Callie Cooke as Lindy Pepper-Bean in yet another of the acting masterclasses that characterize this season. An ongoing tension point is whether Lindy can keep her Bubble down long enough to string together two tasks. This means the season’s highest ratio of close-ups to other shots. Cooke carries this focus with recidivist disdain, processing the situation in arbitrary bursts only to default to anger at the Doctor for intruding on her groupchat, or elation at meeting a celebrity singer.

The slugs are an invention of the Dot, which, after years of servicing Finetime, has learned hate. Huddled outside the habitat dome, the all-white survivors reject the Doctor’s 'dirty' safe passage, and strike out to colonize the wilderness, ‘like their ancestors’.

Laterally to Phone Bad, an ongoing trend in wronghead fiction is Rich Bad. Movies like Bodies Bodies Bodies portray the bourgeoise as a self-obsessed bunch who will fall snarling on themselves at the first provocation. This is not what makes the bourgeoise dangerous, but in fact the exact opposite: because the rich have everything to lose, they will close ranks against you, no matter how much good you’ve done for them, no matter what you could yet do.

Rogue

Before the season ends, anybody want to defend England one last time? Playing nobility at a Regency London ball, the Doctor runs into Rogue, a bounty hunter who mistakes him (at gunpoint) for a shapeshifting, murderous Chuldur.

The Chuldur are fans of Bridgerton, on Earth to cosplay it to death. In order to lure them out, The Doctor and Rogue publicize their whirlwind romance. If “Dot and Bubble” was a response to the idea that Gatwa might run into racism if he travels to the past, “Rogue” is its inversion: the plan works because the modern Chuldur can’t resist the titillation of wearing a black gay man. They run after the hypervisible Doctor, while the white Rogue becomes “the other one”. He’s less problematized, less interesting, the one you get stuck with if you don’t call intersectional shotgun.

After the trap is sprung by accident, Rogue's banished alongside the Chuldur to a random dimension of nobody’s knowing. The Doctor declares it’s impossible to find him. We’ll see about that.

For all its nods towards fandom, “Rogue” isn’t a po-faced condemnation of fan culture. Ultimately, the Chuldur too are defeated through cosplay. Plus, it’s a straight beat-by-beat of the strongest points in Who structure: strong side characters, scifi logistics, a villain as goofy as it’s horrific. Whether its back-to-back placement with its thematic mirror, or as a segue to the season finale, is ideal, is anyone’s guess.

The Legend of Ruby Sunday

The Doctor asks for UNIT’s help in figuring out why Susan Twist follows him everywhere. On 2024 Earth, she’s Susan Triad, tech CEO on the verge of releasing some kind of Alexa thing. But before we get to that, the Doctor decides now’s the time to meet Ruby’s biomom.

Using a ‘Time Window’, Ruby visualizes The Church That Lives On Ruby Road. Ruby cries: the Window refuses to show her mother’s face. The machine goes all creepypasta on some UNIT boot. Panicked, the Doctor chases down Triad, who reveals she can remember her past lives in dreams.

Triad pulls away to her conference. Though she’s live worldwide, her soundstage is empty, the crowd canned. Where much of this season has dealt with the phenomenons of mass media and TV, “The Legend” digs into a grief specific to Doctor Who, an ill-kempt archive of decades forever on the verge of cancellation.

Little else happens, for two good reasons. First, this episode is a two-parter. Second, much of its runtime is dedicated to extracting maximum stress out of the situation. Ruby is too compromised to act, while the Doctor and UNIT are late from the start, only just figuring out the situation in time to witness it unfold. The big reveal paying off all this anxiety, crossed purposes, fear and despair is, unfortunately, a CGI dog with a hat.

Empire of Death

Sutekh is a Fourth Doctor villain who’s been locked in the Time Vortex for thousands of years or a dozen seasons, whichever’s longest. He has spawned harbingers like Triad in every planet that the Doctor’s visited, and his “dust of death” has the power to kill nost just everyone, but everyone at every point in time. In the era of streaming television (and stream-only television), the C-suite can overnight erase all evidence that a show ever existed.

Through a bit of absurd circular logic, the Doctor declares that the Time Window’s memory of a TARDIS is in fact a functioning TARDIS. The crew escapes to roam a deserted universe. The memory TARDIS begs to tie long-dangling plot strands into knots of neat logic. Instead, a bunch of nonsense dialogue happens. When Ruby asks the Doctor why Sutekh has a The Mummy thing going on, the Doctor answers “cultural appropriation”, and fails to elaborate. Laterally, when Ruby casually lists the chameleon circuit’s AOE as 73 yards, the Doctor asks how she knew that. She’s not sure. Nothing comes of this.

Because Sutekh is incapable of seeing Ruby’s mother, the Doctor decides it’s all tied together and heads to a government office in Mad Jack Britain, containing the UK’s forcibly harvested genetic data. Much more cohesive commentary on racism than reminding us cultural appropration is a thing Doctor Who has done. Armed with knowledge, the Doctor baits Sutekh into the Time Vortex, where he forces him to, like, kill death and then die in turn.

It’s a fantastic turn of character for the Doctor, who oft makes a spurious point of not killing in order to condemn villains to fates worse than death, or adopts a ‘War Doctor’ persona which kills a bunch of people anyway. It’s a matter of framing, but also a genuine point of no return. As for less satisfying character beats: Ruby gets to meet her mother, who’s just some middle-aged Instagrammer with a bad haircut and a passion for rocky beaches.

So why was this character immune to everyone from the Time Window to Sutekh, and the unwitting carrier of Ruby’s inherited power to make it snow? Because, the Doctor explains, we cared about her.

Which begs the question: who is we?

The easiest answer is: the last people left alive in the universe. But Ruby’s been making it snow since “Space Babies”. Not proximity to the Doctor either, else the Doctor himself would have magic powers: on the contrary, he’s spent the whole season grappling with his limited ratfic ability to deal with the supernatural. And there’s millions of orphans out there. Ruby is, in this regard as in most else, not special.

Taken all together along with the season’s metanarrative overtures, which keep going right up to the last second of “Empire”, the only answer is that we are the audience. Or the audience and the crew, anyhow: the camera, the screen, Ruby’s protagonism and the people that accept it. We have imbued Ruby Sunday with transcendental power, because we would like her to transcend.

This doesn’t work unless I am more emotionally than narratively invested in Ruby Sunday.

Not that I didn’t get torn up when Ruby met her mother. But that’s just cinema trickery. A season’s worth of promises, a bit of music, very good acting: of course I was going to care. Not more than I care about finding out what the fuck was going on, though. As an explanation, this all rounds out to: what was going on is what was going on. Ruby’s mom was important because she mattered to us, and it mattered to us because she was important. Me, I refuse to be complicit.

There is an unpleasant extreme to the logical lens, the CinemaSinners combing through scripts, sacrificing the greater story to the tendentious idol of Plot Holes. Doctor Who has long been plagued by these types, pitfalls of being an easy-watching BBC show with a large audience. Series 14 scans like a concerted effort to not give these guys an inch. In overcorrecting, it created a maudlin mess of unfulfilled promise.

That is as far as the season's connected plotline goes. Fortunately, most of the episodes are gems, directed with a sense of fun almost unseen in the revival series’ longstanding gloom. The Doctor has turned into a killer, maybe for good. We are promised that his tale will end in tragedy. I hold out hope that, next time the story tries to hit me where it hurts, it’ll follow through.

7/10

#mine #doctor who #not a spoiler free review

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denaliwrites · 11 months

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On the Brave Shit

Tenth Doctor x Genderfluid!Reader

Summary: Coming out is almost never easy, but with the Doctor everything is just a little bit easier.

Soundtrack: Bad Bitch by Tessa Violet

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Coming out. Some light anxiety. (I think it's light, anyway, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong!)

"Did you know," the Doctor started carefully, leaning back against the TARDIS console and crossing his arms over his chest, "that Time Lords and Time Ladies regenerate?"

You closed the TARDIS door behind you, tilting your head as you paced up to join him at the console. "Okay?" you said as you reached him. There was a touch of fear in your voice, but mostly you were just confused.

"See, when Time Lords are hurt... hurt badly. When they die. Instead of dying, they -- we -- well, we sort of just. Don't."

You were trying so hard to follow him. You really were. "You... don't die?"

"We... we change. The old us dies, sort of. We keep all the old memories and all that, but our faces change. We become someone new." He scratched at the back of his head, before the same hand trailed over to rest over his mouth as he looked at you. Watched you.

"... Oh. So... you're not... you're not dying, right?" you asked in muted panic.

"What? Oh, no! No. Not for a long time yet, I should hope."

The sigh of relief you released was dramatic.

"See, the thing is... all that to say. Well. One of my friends in school. The Historian, we called him. Well, he got hurt one day. Very badly hurt. He would've died. Is the thing."

You stepped closer to him, taking his hand in yours comfortingly. "Oh, Doctor, I'm so sorry."

"No, no -- none of that! That's not the point." When he saw your stricken look, he softened. "Thank you, though," he said reassuringly, though you were still utterly confused by all this. "See, when Historian changed, he... was no longer a he."

Oh.

How the fuck did he figure that out?

"I... I, erm... Oh." You weren't exactly sure how to process what he'd said. How to proceed.

"Humans are different, obviously," he said casually, though you could feel his eyes watching you, gentle and caring. "But... I think it's probably the same principle, essentially."

"How did you..."

"Know? Oh, well.. I notice things, you know. That's -- that's what I do. Notice things."

You swallowed in dread. "Like what?"

"Well, for one, you spend an awfully long time in the TARDIS wardrobe," he said with a playfully annoyed sigh. "I didn't think much of it at first, but then I saw you dressing up in, well..."

Oh. Oh, no...

"Anyway. The point is. I think you're neat. As you are. Whatever that means."

You felt a tear streak down your cheek, and the Doctor gave your hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Now that that's... you know. Erm. I've been calling you the one thing all this time. Is there anything else you wanna be called?"

You blanched, somehow not expecting him to A. be so chill with all this, and B. so willing to just go straight into it.

"Erm... yeah. I guess. Yeah. She, her, he, him... please."

"Applicable to presentation or regardless of?" he asked, and you felt another tear fall.

"Er... I think regardless of."

He nodded, pulling you to his chest in an impossibly gentle embrace. His lips pressed to the top of your head in a soft kiss, and his thumb wiped away your tears. "You're wonderful. And brilliant. And incredibly brave."

On your next adventure with the Doctor, you were pleased indeed when he effortlessly switched between pronouns, never missing a single beat, never faltering, never hesitating.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #doctor who x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x you #reader insert #queer reader #genderfluid reader #trans reader #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who #the doctor #david tennant

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weirdmorefics · 7 months

Note

Hi! Can I send in a request for being another timelord who travels with the 9th doctor and Rose Tyler being like a sister figure to Y/N?

A/N- Yes yes yes!!! I have actually had an idea for something like this just hadn't written it yet.

Readers Pronouns- She/Her

Word Count- 3.9k

Summary- (BASED ON S1 E6) The Doctor and Rose find themselves in a bunker in Utah full of alien artifacts. They are shocked to find some of these artifacts are alive and not here of their own free will. You just so happen to be one of these artifacts.

The Slightly Behind Timelord

I used to keep track of how many days I'd been chained and experimented on but the days quickly turned into months and the months turned to years. I've long since lost hope of ever returning to Gallifrey. It was in shambles when I was last home, the war was constant. I was a coward and stole my parent's Tardis to escape from having to fight. A stupid coward who didn't check if it was in working condition to only have crashed and ended up imprisoned by a man who I know as Mr. Van Statten. I should have stayed and fought then at least I would have died with dignity.

I have refused to talk since my arrival. I may have betrayed Gallifrey by fleeing but I refuse to make things worse than they already are there. Nevertheless, Mr. Van Statten comes and talks to me every single day asking about about my ship. They have dissected the TARDIS piece by piece. I secretly hope it burns them alive. When Mr. Van Statten inevitably gets nothing out of me he sends in a man an orange suit to torture it out of me. It never works but they do not stop.

Today was different they had a new man with them, he was restrained and they strapped him to the walls like me. I wonder if this was a new torture strategy.

"Look here we got you a friend maybe now you will do some talking," Van Statten says cheerfully.

I look at the man with pity knowing they are going to torture him as well. Van Statten's men unchain me and drag me to the other side of the room. I don't even fight them anymore I don't have the energy to spare.

Van Statten powers up his inhumane X-ray and says, "Smile!"

The man screams in pain as the red beam scans him and Van Statten smiles in glee at the results.

"Two hearts! A binary vascular system! Here I thought you were special," he shouts a glare in my direction and the man chained up widens his eyes.

The man doesn't look at Van Statten but puts his focus on me, "Where are you from?"

"No point in talking to her she hasn't spoken since we tore her from the rubble of her ship. She put up quite the fight when we started dissembling her ship screaming you are killing her. Then not a single word," he sighs in disappointment shaking his head at me. "I would get rid of her now that I have you but I need more information about the ship."

I suck in a breath they kill without care here, I wonder if everyone on this planet is like that. The man chained is certainly not from here maybe he can get me out. However, he is looking at me like I am unreal so perhaps not.

If looks could kill Van Statten would certainly be dead from this man's fiery gaze, "You're not a collector you're a scavenger."

"This technology has been falling to earth for centuries I am simply just making use of it. Oh the advances I've made from alien junk you have no idea, Doctor," he grins but I quickly interrupt.

I gasp, "The Doctor! Has Gallifrey won the war! How are you here?"

Van Satten's grin turns to a full-blown smile, "First you make the Dalek talk now my longest surviving exhibit! You truly are something!"

"there- there is uh... a Dalek here," I whisper afraid to speak their name.

The Doctor looks at me eyes full of guilt and astonishment, he still looks at me as if I am not here.

"Thank you again Doctor so much for getting her to talk keep her talking for me why don't you? Since you all seem so scared of said Dalek, I think I will go back and try to have a word with it. I find fear is the best motivator to get people spending, " Van Statten is practically glowing with joy and I wish I could smack the joy right off.

The Doctor wrestles with his chains trying to break free, "You can't go in there with it! Now that it knows that I am here it will come looking for me! No one on this planet will be safe!"

His screams fill me with fear if I could throw up right now I would but they hardly ever feed me so there is nothing to throw up so I end up hyperventilating. Mr. Van Statten ends up shocking the Doctor and his angry words are replaced with painful screams.

I struggle against my chains screaming at the top of my lungs, "He tells the truth! You don't stand a chance against the Daleks! The war lasted centuries on Gallifrey here you will be lucky to last day!"

Van Statten looks at me in awe, "Wow full sentences maybe you will prove useful after all these years."

Nothing I say to this psychotic man will ever get into that thick skull of his, I would facepalm if my hands weren't shackled to the wall.

Alarms sound and angry red lights flash, my heart sinks, it's to late.

The Doctor's tone shifts from begging to demanding, "Release me if you want to live."

Van Statten quickly makes work of the chains holding the Doctor down and runs for the door.

The Doctor points to me, "Forgetting someone?"

Van Statten waves him off, "We haven't the time!"

"You need all the information you can get on Daleks, let her out now!" he shouts leaving no room for questions and Van Statten quickly does the command.

My legs feel like jelly as we run into the elevator I can't remember the last time I've walked unchained let alone run. I felt so out of place, especially in a ratty hospital gown.

"You have to keep it caged," he shouts to Van Statten's lackeys.

"Doctor it's all my fault," a blonde says apologetically on the screen.

A guard informs us that he has sealed off the exits and the lock as a million combos no way the thing's getting out. I shake my head at his idiocy I just hope this blonde girl is also a timelord, the more the better.

"Daleks are genius they can figure out a billion combinations in ten seconds flat." The Doctor informs.

The Dalek quickly figures out how to exit the moment I see it on the screen I cover my mouth in horror.

"Don't shoot I want it unharmed!" Van Statten shouts.

"Are you that dense! You would rather a whole planet die than lose a collection piece!" I shout at the man who held me captive for years and swing a punch at his face which earns me the pleasant crunch noise from his nose.

two guards pull me away from him as I smile for the first time in ages. The Doctor doesn't seem to notice the commotion shouting for the blonde whose name is apparently Rose to run.

I look back to the screen to see the Dalek destroying the screen connection. I feared the sucker would go right through the screen and appear before me like a Weeping Angel. I stumbled backward but the guards just tugged harder to keep me in place. I groaned in response to the uncomfortable position.

The Doctor's head whipped in the direction of the noise in high alert, "let her go! You are focused on the wrong alien here!"

The guards look to Van Statten for his approval, "She's got one hell of a right hook, I'll give her that... drop her.

The guards took this a little too literally and dropped me directly on my ass, as the others make their way to the computer.

"Oh my god, it's draining the whole power supply," the woman with us gasped.

"It's not just the energy it's the whole internet, it knows everything," The Doctor states.

"Cameras in the vault our down," the woman relays.

"It's going to absorb everything," I sigh

"We have to kill it now!" The Doctor shouts.

We watch soldiers die again and again through the surveillance cameras. It's Gallifrey all over again I can't escape it, but maybe I can help this time instead of running away.

"Tell them to stop shooting!" Van Statten says but I am seriously praying this is a very cruel joke.

"But it's killing them!" The woman shouted back.

"They're dispensable that Dalek is unique. I don't want a single scratch on it!" he shouts to the lifeless soldiers.

I clench my fists, "You are asking me to hurt you! You are putting lives over a killer," I shout getting in his face his guards instantly stand up preparing for me to strike him again which probably wasn't far off thinking.

"He's an idiot we need to focus," The Doctor interrupts and I return my gaze to the map as they discuss alien weapons.

"There has to be a way to keep it alive, maybe we trap it down there-"

The Doctor cuts him off, "Leaving everyone trapped with it? Rose is down there. I won't let that happen, have you got that?"

That seems to shut Van Statten up for once thank god.

"Who is Rose? Is she from Gallifrey? Did you two come here to stop the last Dalek? Does that mean Gallifrey is safe again?" I ramble many questions at once.

"Doesn't talk for years now you don't shut up," he glares at me like this whole situation is somehow my fault.

The Doctor frowns, "Leave her be Statten." He ignores my questions and tells them to arm all the soldiers with alien weapons it's the only way to beat it. Then he directs the soldiers on how to kill a Dalek always aim for the eye the soldiers shut him down.

"I can't help but think everyone on this planet is insanely dense," I sigh.

The doctor smirks, " There are some good humans out there, you wouldn't know being stuck here with these imbeciles."

Van Statten's glare burns into The Doctor I feel the heat of the glare just from the proximity.

"We have visuals again," the woman informs and all of our eyes dart to the computer.

"It wants us to see," The Doctor growled.

We all stare in shock as the Dalek uses the sprinklers to electrocute and kill all the soldiers at once.

"Perhaps we should consider a different strategy like abandoning the place," Van Statten nervously stumbles over his words. I had never seen him like this he always seemed confident when torturing me. If this were any other situation I would be overjoyed to see him like this. I wish I was the one to make him feel like this, not the Dalek.

The woman glares at him, "Except there's no power to the helipad, sir."

"You said we could seal the vault," The Doctor interrupts their glaring showdown.

"There's not enough power!" she shouts.

"There's emergency power we could redirect it to the bulkhead door," The Doctor defends.

"It would take a computer genius to get through the security codes!" The woman says frustrated.

"Good thing you got me," Mr. Van Statten smiles.

"You wanna help?" The Doctor asks shocked.

"No there is no way he wants to help! It is physically impossible he has no empathy. This has to be a trick!" I shout.

"It's not out of empathy, I don't want to die as simple as that. This could have been avoided if you talked in the first place. I would have known what it was capable of years ago." He shouts back at me.

The camera turns back on and the Dalek's voice fills the room, "I shall only speak to the doctor."

"You are gonna get rusty," he responds to the Dalek who still getting soaked by the sprinkler system.

"I don't think now is a great time for jokes Doctor," I whisper.

"I fed off the DNA of Rose Tyler. Extrapolating the biomass of a time-traveler regenerated me," the Dalek speaks.

"What's your next trick," the Doctor rolls his eyes.

"I have been searching for the Daleks," it responds.

"Yeah, I saw downloading the entire internet. What did you see?" He saunters around the table.

"I searched your radio signals and telescopes," it responds.

I anxiously pick at the scabs already forming from when I punched Satten. What will happen if this Dalek happens to find more Daleks? What if he isn't the last one.

The Doctor seems completely unphased, "and find anything?"

"Nothing, Where shall I get my order from now!" It screams loudly.

"Nothing but a solider without any commands," the Doctor teases.

I look at him in shock he can't possibly think it's a good thing to rile up at a Dalek more.

"Then I shall follow my primary order, the Dalek instinct to conquer and destroy," it responds.

"What for! What's the point!" The Doctor shouts his facade slipping. "Don't you see everything is gone, everything you stood for."

"Then what should I do?" The Dalek actually seemed to have an emotion other than hatred. Many emotions. I would have felt bad for it if not for all they have done against Gallifrey.

"Alright, then. If you want orders follow this one. Kill yourself," the doctor responds coldly.

I look up at him with wide eyes this is not the Doctor they spoke of on Gallifrey the mischievous one who was too smart for his own good. This Doctor was cold and harsh with his words.

"The Daleks must live on," the Dalek shouts in a familiar rage that all Daleks have.

"The Daleks have failed! Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct! Rid the universe of your filth! Why don't you just die, " The Doctor shouts back such cruel words that I am worried that the Dalek will retaliate immediately.

"You would make a good Dalek," it responds and I think I have officially heard the worst insult anyone could make toward a Gallifreyian.

I put my hand on the Doctor's arm, " I am so sorry."

The Doctor does not look at me he looks broken but yells to Statten, "Seal the vaults!"

"She's still down there," the woman whispers to the doctor.

He calls Rose on his phone to get updates on her location he cares so much about this Rose she has to be a Time Lady like me. I can't imagine the Doctor having much time to visit other planets after the war.

He relays to her that he can't stop the gate from closing she has to run. He waits as long as he can and apologizes before shutting the vault. He frantically asks if she made it but his face quickly sets into a deep frown.

He quickly pulls off his earpiece, "I killed her."

Van Statten says, "I'm sorry." I have never heard him say sorry before I haven't heard the word sorry in so long it sounds foreign.

"I was supposed to protect! She was only here because of me! And you're sorry? I could have killed that Dalek in its cell but you stopped me."

"It was the prize of my collection!" He defended.

I shook my head hard, "You valued your collection over life you are disgusting."

"Man goes to space to be part of something greater," the Doctor spits.

"Exactly! I wanted to touch the stars! That's why I kept her here!" he points to me. "If you think about it, it is all her fault none of this would have happened if she told me how her ship worked."

The Doctor shook his head, "You just wanted to drag the stars underground! Of course, she wouldn't talk you enslaved her and experimented on her! You are about as far from the stars as you can get!" His angry screams turned to sorrowful sighs, "And you took Rose down with you she was nineteen years old."

"She's so young can she not regenerate?" I ask sadly.

"She's human," he sighs.

I can't understand what a timelord is doing traveling with humans I understand now is not the time for questions.

The elevator doors open and the Doctor is quick to yell at the man for leaving his companion behind.

The monitor turns back on the Dalek holding its weapon to the back of the girl, "Open the vault or Rose Tyler dies."

The doctor gasps, "You're alive!"

"Can't get rid of me that easily," she teases.

"I thought you were dead," he shouts.

The Dalek interrupts, "Open the vault!"

"Don't" she begs.

"What use are emotions, if you will not save the woman you love," the Dalek states. Curious what does a Dalek know about love?

"I killed her once, I can't do it again," he states as he presses the button.

This is most certainly not the Doctor who was infamous in Gallifrey how long have I been missing. I hear Van Satten shouting but none of it really matters anymore. The Dalek will kill us and I have been missing so long that no one back home will know the difference. I am not going down without a fight. If my life didn't mean something hopefully my death can.

I adjust my posture to appear taller, "You collect all these dangerous aliens so where are your dangerous alien weapons?"

The woman shouts at me "All the weapons are in the vault!"

"Only the cataloged ones," Van Statten's employee smiles at me. I can't help the blush that appears on my face I can't remember the last time someone smiled at something I said.

The Doctor nods his head at me, "Good idea." He still looks at me like I'm a figment of his imagination and will disappear soon.

We left Van Statten and his assistant upstairs and went to the basement for weapons. The doctor tosses the weapons that are useless but finds a gun which relieves some of my anxiety.

"Stay here! I'll come back for you as soon as I handle the Dalek!" He demands

"You are out of your mind! I've been locked here for years and you're the first timelord I've seen here! If you think I am letting you fight a Dalek alone you're mental!" I shout back it feels strange screaming at anyone after refusing to speak for so long even weirder to scream at a war hero from my own planet.

He takes a deep breath trying to control his rage, "I don't have time for this! I can't have you dying while I am saving Rose!"

I shove him, hold my head high, and walk right by him, "I have more regenerations left than you old man."

He jogs to catch up to me, "No convincing you?"

"God you sound like my parents when I stole their Tardis," I groan as we jog up the stairs.

He smirks, "I stole a Tardis myself once."

"Now that's a story I have to hear," I grin wide.

"Another day," he sighs as we quietly enter the room with the Dalek and Rose.

The Doctor steps in front of me "Rose get out of the way now!"

"No, I won't let you do this," she frowns.

I stare wide-eyed at her she can't be saying this does she know of the war on Galifrey why wouldn't the Doctor have told her.

"That thing killed thousands of people!" He shouts.

"It's not the one pointing a gun at me," she snaps and I kind of want to throttle this girl.

"I've got to do this the Daleks destroyed my home! My people! I've got nothing left!" He shouts.

My head whips to face the Doctor, "What do you mean nothing." My voice shakes no matter how hard I try to remain calm. "We didn't win the war? How are you here then?"

I turn back to the Dalek, "Did they win?"

I stomp towards the Dalek and the doctor pleads with me to wait. Rose looks at me nervously I guess I can still look scary in a hospital gown and no weapon of my own. When she steps out of the way I freeze in my spot I've never seen a Dalek out of its exoskeleton.

"What is it doing?" This has to be a ploy, one they use to seem weaker then snap. Though a Dalek would never do that they need to feel superior or they are nothing.

"It's the sunlight that's all it wants," Rose defends the Dalek as it reaches its hand to the sun I back up. This is not normal behavior.

The Doctors' gaze follows, "But it can't..."

"It couldn't kill me or Van Statten it's changing!" Rose defends yet again. "And what about you Doctor what the hell are you changing into?"

I whip to Rose, "You have no right! You have no idea what these Daleks did to our home!"

"Our?" She questions.

"Why do we survive?" The Dalek asks. "I am the last of the Daleks."

"You're not even that, you absorbed Rose's DNA. You are mutating," the Doctor explains.

"Into what?" it responds.

"Something new," he replies.

I frown I am happy that there are no more Daleks but this is truly a Dalek's worst nightmare.

"I am sorry," The Doctor sighs.

"isn't that better?" Rose asks.

"Not for a Dalek," why am I feeling sorry for the Dalek they destroy everything it's their goal. I can't help but relate to it when we have been stuck in the same prison for years... I thought about burning this whole place down myself.

"So many ideas, so much darkness. Give me orders! Order me to die Rose," the Dalek says pained.

She shakes her head, "No I can't."

"This is not life! This is sickness. I shall not be like you. Order me to die. Obey! Obey! Obey!" The dalek screams and I can't help but step a few feet back the words reminding me of hearing the constant battlefield noises out my childhood window on Gallifrey.

"Do it," she says.

"Are you frightned Rose Tyler?"

"Yes"

"So am I, Exterminate." The Dalek floats up and prepares to self destruct as Rose and I run away from it.

I fall to the ground as I watch the Dalek explode all the adrenaline I once had fades out of me. I look up to the Doctor, "What do you mean you have no one?"

His pitiful gaze that he sent me when he first found out I was Timelord made sense now as he responds, There's no more Gallifrey... no more Daleks. The whole planet gone."

I can sob " I should have stayed home. I should have never ran away. If I stayed at least I would have gone with my family." I turn to the doctor but can barely see him through my tears. "Is there really no other Timelords?"

Rose quickly gets onto the floor and rubs my back, "hey you never know! The Doctor thought he was the only Timelord left but here you are! Plus you get to constantly prove the Doctor was wrong not many people get the oppurtunity."

I sniffle, "That's true, and I do love proving people wrong."

"There you go," she soothes. "We will get you a good cup of tea my Mum always says tea cure anything," She helps me to feet.

"You are really good at this comforting thing. Is she always this sweet?" I ask the Doctor.

The Doctor seems to have glossy eyes as well but hides his emotions well, "Yeah, that's why I keep her around."

"Hey!" she shoves him.

"The grief is very heavy right now but I am thankful to be surrounded by such light that could even turn a Dalek's cold heart warm.

#doctor who x reader #doctor who x you #doctor who x y/n #doctor who imagine #doctor who fanfiction #9th doctor #9th doctor x reader #doctor who drabble #doctor who fic #doctor who fandom #rose tyler x reader #rose tyler x the doctor

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odieoats · 2 years

Text

𝐎𝐟 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬

summary: After messing up his soba order, Pro Hero Shouto can’t get enough of it- or, just maybe, can’t get enough of you.

cw: Pro Hero!Todoroki x server!reader. 18+ smut, praise kink, afab!reader (they/them pronouns, afab anatomy), oral sex (m and reader receiving), penetrative sex, slight temperature play. reader is attacked by a villain, but it’s short and pretty nonviolent. I have worked in many a kitchen, but never a Soba kitchen- sorry to my Soba waiters out there.

wc: 5.4k

Hi guys, I’m so incredibly excited to debut my first fic on this blog! Even better, it’s for The Teahouse server’s secret fic exchange. This is written with all my love for the lovely @/kaiapaia I’m hoping you enjoy what I came up with according to your prompt 🥺

The kitchen is on fire, almost as literally as it is figuratively, when you clock in to work at your third swing shift in a row.

The old shopworn curtain separating the front counter from the kitchen is kept solely for posterity at this point. Through the fibers of the cloth, gaping holes the size of a toddler’s fist, you can see the disembodied head of your kitchen manager frowning sternly at the expeditor. The rest of her is obscured by the remaining threads of the curtain, but you can easily imagine her stance- arms folded across her body, leg extended and toe tapping- ready to chew your head off for being three whole minutes late.

Dashi broth and fear have smelled eerily alike ever since you started working at the once family-owned soba restaurant in Musutafu. It had changed hands more times than you could count since then; the early days, before your clunky cash till was replaced by an iPad screen with convenient, dummy-proof pictures, long gone. The current management (if you could call it that) had driven out most of the original staff. It’s only you left, loyal to a fault and desperate for the extra cash seniority brings you at this job as you finish up your degree. It keeps you and your goldfish fed, and that’s about all you could ask for.

You tie your apron around your waist, stealing a few pens from the cup near the to-go register and shoving them into the pocket that held your server pad. Your manager sees you- of course she does- through the curtain before you’re even in the kitchen.

“Guess who called out today?” She scoffs, moving to stand near the empty sauce bar. Your tardiness is pardoned by the absence of your coworker, for now, for what it’s worth. She lifts the lid of the prep fridge, more tears of condensation collecting on the inside of the metal nine pan than pre-portioned broth cups. “Prep’s fucked.”

You already knew what Suzume was asking you- and it wasn’t your job to prep. The hostess had already given you your tables, some of them already seated and awaiting food courtesy of the lunch shift. You hadn’t even touched back of house work since the original owners had left. The ratios that had once been second nature were now fuzzily teetering at the edge of your memories. What went into the mentsuyu? A cup of soy? A few teaspoons- no- tablespoons of mirin?

Your idling forms are an unwelcome sight in the otherwise bustling kitchen. Another waitress muscles her way past you, shoulder knocking into yours in a way that feels intentional, as she plucks three or four containers of broth out of the fridge. It makes the sight even more miserable.

“Who's going to take my tables?” You ask, though your tone betrayed the fact that you were already relenting. Being stubborn about the situation would not change the fact that things still needed to get done.

Suzume shrinks at your question, a sheepish smile stretching across her face as a nonverbal admission that no one would be.

“Absolutely not.”

“Please, I need you– there’s absolutely no one else available today!” Suzume says, almost petulantly, slumping against the sauce bar in a way that bares her age. She’s only a few years older than you- much less demanding than your older managers, despite her Type A tendencies. Her obvious distress almost instills pity, a sort of guilt washing over you for not being able to do anything about the lack of staff. Still, you weren’t being paid nearly enough to do two people’s jobs at the same time.

Another bout of protests are poised behind your lips, but you’re interrupted by the hostess poking her face through a hole in the curtain.

“Need a cold soba broth base, on the fly, now. Shouto’s here.”

Both you and your manager peep through separate rifts in the curtain, scanning the lobby for the notorious semi-regular. When your manager spots him, already seated at his usual booth in the far corner of the restaurant, she tugs at your sleeve and points her index finger through the hole. There’s no missing the shock of white and red hair peeking out from above the booth- it’s definitely, unmistakably Pro-Hero Shouto. You’re pulled back into the kitchen and away from the view of the lobby where other patrons had also just caught wind of Shouto’s appearance, whispering amongst themselves all at once. Suzume’s hands are on your shoulders as she pleads.

“Here’s the deal. You prep the sauces, and I’ll take half of your tables– for an hour. Until Shouto leaves.” Suzume says, and, for good measure, sucks some air into her cheeks before sighing. “You can even take his booth. He’s considerably generous, if you catch my drift.”

You’ve heard from your other coworkers that much, at the very least. In all your time working at the restaurant, you hadn’t had the opportunity to be his server. Whether you were training a new hire, helping back of house with prep, or preoccupied with too many tables already, Shouto had somehow evaded you. The thought of serving him made you nervous, even though, realistically, it shouldn’t. He seemed nice enough in interviews and the ads that break up your late night television binging. And yet, the sight of his muscular frame squeezed a little too tightly into the narrow corner booth never failed to make you anxious. Butterflies, you’d probably call them, had you still been an infatuated teenager- but you’re older now, and a Pro Hero is, quite frankly, way out of your league.

“Fine, whatever.” You grumble, “Just get the recipe booklet from the office for me.”

You make your way out of the kitchen, making sure to apologize about the wait to the patrons you passed. Your heart races the closer you get to Shouto’s table, serving book clenched tightly in your hands.

“You’re not my usual waitress.”

His tone and expression are even, despite the intensity in his heterochromatic eyes as he scans over you. You’re suddenly a little insecure in your uniform. Your white button-up is a little too tight from constant cycling in the laundry and the cheap brand of black slacks you own are infamously unflattering. It’s true that regulars weren’t usually clambering to see you in particular, but it still hurt a little to disappoint him.

“I’m sorry, we’re a little short staffed today, so your usual waitress probably isn’t in–“

“I see you around here all the time. You just aren’t my usual waitress. It’s a nice change.”

“O-oh, thank you.” You say, face warming, tapping your notepad with the back of your pen. “I think it’s just a formality for me to ask what you’d like. Cold soba? Extra shredded daikon on the side?”

“You know my order.” He says, halfway between a question and a statement. There’s a small smile that breaks the even line of his mouth, and honestly, he’s a little too handsome to look at. You force yourself not to stare, eyes wandering toward the napkin holder next to him that would probably need to be refilled once he left.

“‘Course I do.”

We all do, you think, though you weren’t so keen on letting the pro hero know that he was a frequent name on the tips of every worker’s tongue. Instead, you just shrug and smile at him. “Anything else today?”

“That’ll be all. Thank you.”

You bow politely at him before scuttling into the kitchen.

You prepare some dipping sauce, one for Shouto and several others as backup, but quickly stepping into the walk-in for extra ingredients seemed to be a mistake. By the time you’ve come back, all of your prepared sauces were gone, and even worse, so was the recipe booklet. You curse, unable to recall what you had just put together. Shouto was surely growing impatient, and you had no time to spend looking for the recipe. Instead, you freestyle a cup of mentsuyu. You’ve done it so many times in the past that the process should be muscle memory… right?

You rush out of the kitchen and timidly set the tray of soba down onto Shouto’s table, waiting for him to take a bite. There’s a sudden rush of anxiety swirling in your stomach as you watch him gather the soba noodles into a neat bundle with his chopsticks and dip them into the mentsuyu. He raises the chopsticks to his lips, and you swear that time slows as he opens his mouth.

Shouto’s face breaks its cool exterior, knitting his eyebrows together at the taste, but the expression passes as soon as it’s come. You let out a snarky breath. Hopefully that meant that he was okay with the taste, even if it wasn’t precise.

“Do- do you need anything else?”

“No.” He hums, in a way that you choose to interpret as contentedly. “Thank you, for everything.”

“Of course!” You squeak, bowing again before heading back into the kitchen.

The recipe booklet is, somehow, miraculously where it had once been on the prep table. You flip to the mentsuyu page in record speed, eyes flickering to the measurements for each ingredient.

Fuck. You weren’t even close.

And whatever acrid concoction you created is currently being consumed by Pro-Hero Shouto. Son of Endeavor. The Shouto Todoroki. A voice in the back of your head is screaming at you that you’ll be arrested for attempted poisoning.

You’re beyond embarrassed when you go to hand him the check, but are surprised to see an empty wooden tray. He had eaten all of it.

He’s polite as he takes the check from your hands, thanking you again and- god, his stare really was intense.

Moreover, the rather sizable tip signed at the bottom of the merchant copy of his receipt seems to imply that he really, really liked it.

“Woah.” Suzume says, later that night as she’s checking the register’s balance. “He usually tips well, but never that well.”

“Yeah, I… really don’t know why.” You call from your place sweeping underneath the booths in the lobby. During your break, you had even attempted to recreate the abominable sauce for your comp meal. It was awful- too salty, too bitter, and somehow a little oily. You were starting to think that the only flaw Shouto Todoroki had was his apparent poor taste.

“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.” Suzume laughs, handing you your share of the tips from dinner service.

—-

And so you do.

His visits to the soba shop became even more frequent after that. Stranger still, Shouto had taken to requesting you in particular to be his server. He was a little more talkative than you imagined him to be- interested in what you did outside of work, what you were studying, what your hobbies were. Whatever you had done with the mentsuyu, he apparently couldn’t get enough. Suzume had even clued you in on the fact that Shouto would ask about you even when you weren’t scheduled. Soon, even your other coworkers had noticed, envious of the attention (and, more importantly, money) that Shouto paid you. You were embarrassed to admit how you’d discovered what Shouto liked, especially considering your seniority over everyone else in the restaurant, so whenever anyone asked you what your secret was, you simply gave a vague answer and continued working. Some one-sided tension brewed between you and your coworkers, but you ducked your head and hoped that the whole ordeal would blow over- maybe Shouto would snap to his senses and realize the garbage he was eating.

“I need you to go out for a delivery.” Suzume says one day, before you’re even clocked in.

“We don’t deliver.” You say, though you already knew that you didn’t have to remind Suzume of that. The smirk on her face was enough for you to know that she had something devious up her sleeve.

“We do today.” Suzume proudly proclaims, setting an already prepared paper bag in front of you. It had been shoddily stapled together, but the smell of buckwheat and freshly shaved daikon clued you in to what was contained within. “Shouto called. Wants you to deliver it to his agency. You just gotta make the mentsuyu.”

“His agency?” You repeat, searching Suzume’s expression for any hint that she’s joking- and she’s not. “Suzume, I don’t have a car. I’m not riding the bus to deliver this thing.”

Suzume fishes around her pockets and pulls out the keys to her infamous teal moped, parked just outside the shop. “Treat my baby well, okay?”

—-

You walk past the sliding glass doors of Shouto’s agency and are immediately impressed by the size of it. Though Shouto had only been on the scene for a few years, his agency was large and neatly organized. It was jarring to see sidekicks and heroes that you had only seen on the news brush past you, all larger than life. You felt extraordinarily unextraordinary making your way to the receptionist’s desk as heroes walked and rolled and flew past you.

“Welcome to the Todoroki Agency.” The receptionist smiles, eyes flickering to the bag of food in your hands. “Dropping off a delivery?“

“Yeah, for Shouto.” You say, resting the food on the counter in front of her.

She nods, punching in the number to Shouto’s office. Holding the phone to her face, she turns her attention back to you. “You can probably just leave it there, I’ll have someone– oh! Hello, Shouto-san. Yes, your food is here. I can have– oh, alright then. Are you sure you don’t want me to have it brought up to you? Of course, my pleasure sir.”

The receptionist puts the phone back onto the receiver and cocks her head at you. “Shouto-san said he’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

You blink at that, not sure if you should take him up on that offer. You were still on the clock, after all, and it was nearing the time the shop usually had its lunch rush. Still, the fact that he wanted to talk to you at all made your stomach do flips. Butterflies.

Suzume owes you for making you go out of your way for the delivery. She can wait a little longer for you to return, you decide.

The elevator chimes from the end of the hall, and out emerges Pro Hero Shouto in all his glory. His eyes find you instantly, a small smile turning the corner of his lips.

“I’m glad to see you here.” Shouto says as he approaches the reception table. “I’m busy with paperwork today, so I couldn’t come to eat in person.”

“We don’t usually do deliveries.” You explain. A flash of concern crosses Shouto’s face, perhaps upset at himself for interrupting the regular flow of the restaurant, but you quickly backtrack. “But my manager was more than happy to make an exception- and I’m always happy to spend more time with you.”

Too far. Embarrassment finds a home in your stomach, but Shouto simply smirks, seemingly pleased with your answer.

“Nice helmet.” He gestures toward your head at Suzume’s teal eyesore. You’re mortified- you hadn’t thought to take the helmet off, thinking that doing so would be unjustifiable for such a short delivery. You must look like such a nerd, standing there inside his agency alongside heroes with a helmet on.

“Well, you know. Safety first.”

God, you were bad at this. This is the first time that Shouto has ever stood next to you. You’re used to seeing him sat in his booth, where the two of you were closer to eye level. Now, standing up straight and tall, a tower of muscle, you couldn’t help but feel nervous.

At least Shouto finds it funny.

“Would you want to continue our conversation in my office?”

You balk at that, heart skipping several beats at the thought of being alone with him in his office. Sitting across from him as he ate soba at his desk, chatting like friends. Like lovers–

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” You grab the bag from the counter and hand it to him. “I’m on the clock, and Suzume is gonna start sending the dogs after me if I’m gone for too long.”

Shouto hums, reaching for the bag of food. His left hand brushes yours, considerably warmer than your own. It’s a reminder of his extraordinary Quirk– of the divide that separates you. You linger there for a moment before you pull your arm back, embarrassed by how much you wanted his touch.

“Well, you’re welcome back any time.” Shouto offers, but you’re already walking out of the door, too embarrassed to look back- to notice the way Shouto stared at you as you left.

—-

A few days later, for some reason or another, Suzume needed to go home early. She had told you that much at the beginning of the shift, before pleading that you cover her closing duties. There were tears, there were promises of covering your future shifts, and some extra cash slipped in as incentive. Though her reasons for leaving were shoddy at best, you still agreed to cover her.

– and so you had stayed an extra 45 minutes, balancing the register, taking inventory, and writing the following day’s morning prep sheets. Your main motivation took shape in the takeout bag that sat behind the to-go register. Paid for but forgotten, completely up for grabs. Before you lock up for the night, you remember to snag the bag off of the counter. You jiggle the handle to the restaurant a few times, just to make sure there would be no unexpected break-ins that the higher ups could pin you for.

The street is quiet. The wind that carries the chill of the night brushes against your cheeks on your brisk walk home. The soba shop’s close proximity to your apartment was what initially drew you to it - the bus was your first option most days, when it decided to arrive on time, but the walk wasn’t too bad either. It was only fifteen minutes on a relatively well-lit and busy street, so even at night, you still felt somewhat secure. You hold your bag of leftovers close to your chest, comforted by the warmth emanating from the vegetable tempura meant to compliment your cold soba. Despite having to stay late in order to pick up Suzume’s slack, you were in high spirits.

‘I really have to ask for a raise’ is the thought that distracts you from the man leaning against the lamp post.

When you stumble, you almost mistake it for your own carelessness. It’s only when you look down and see his hand, unnaturally extended and stuck on to the back of your upper thigh, that you realize someone else was responsible for you near-fall. You gasp aloud, dropping the bag of food in your hands. It falls to the ground with an ugly clatter, broth staining the sidewalk beneath it. Your hands rush to the site where you’re connected, scrambling to pry the unwelcome limb away from you. It hurts a little when you try to rip him off, mortified to find out that his palm was stuck onto you like a piece of velcro. Even trying to take a step forward tugged unpleasantly on your skin.

“I just wanna talk, baby.” The man laughs. “Can’t a guy have some fun?”

“Get the fuck off of me!” You yell back, hands anxious and fumbling. If you could just get a good grasp on him, maybe you could just bite your lip and rip him off like a bandaid.

Before the man can get any closer or move his other hand to another part of your body, a rush of cold air overwhelms your surroundings. The grip on your thigh is replaced by an intense cold, seeping through your pants. Your skin throbs underneath your slacks, the ice freezing the fabric to the back of your thigh. Even though it hurts, you know you’re safe. You don’t even need to look up to know that Shouto’s there, but you do anyway. Your eyes meet his, and you find a tenderness there, a comfort, before he turns his attention back to the offender. He’s encased to the throat with ice, rendering him completely immobile.

“I’ve contacted the authorities, they’ll be coming to collect you soon.” Shouto says coolly, though his right hand is still extended toward the man as a warning- a reminder that there was nothing stopping the hero from completing his transformation into a full iceberg.

When the man simply chokes on a pained gargle, Shouto lowers his arm.

“I would have frozen his tongue off if he tried to say anything smart.” Shouto whispers to you, and you snort despite yourself. His left hand hovers above the junction where you were frozen together, a small flame melting the ice until you’re able to break away from the glaciar of the man next to you.

You reach your hand behind you, touching the tender spot at the back of your thigh. You hiss, retracting your arm as quickly as you had put it there.

Shouto frowns at your pained expression. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to hurt you.”

“You saved me. I’ll take a freezer-burnt leg over whatever the alternative would be.”

Shouto softly exhales, eyes flickering to where he had frozen you. “Is the back of your leg still cold? Could I– would you like me to warm it for you?”

Your eyes widen at that, too taken aback to speak properly. Instead, you simply nod, letting Shouto kneel behind you. His left hand is steadfast and professional, hovering just above the afflicted area. Despite that, you can’t help but feel your nerves ignite, knowing that he was so tantalizing close to touching you. The heat from his hand inspires another heat deep within your core, especially when you glance back at Shouto kneeling on the ground behind you and notice his lingering gaze at the assets that lived just above your thighs–

When the police arrive, you’re quick to make your statement. Gathering the bag of food that you had ejected out of your hands earlier, you’re disappointed to find that you had lost nearly half of both containers of broth. You’ll still eat it, of course, but the moisture soiling all of the containers makes everything a bit unappetizing.

“Are you walking home? I thought that you had a moped?” Shouto asks as you’re about to leave. You stand, damp takeout bag in hand, surprised that he had remembered Suzume’s moped from your visit to the agency.

“It’s my manager’s. I usually walk or take the bus home, but I had to stay late tonight.” You explain.

Shouto frowns, something that wrinkles the sides of his mouth, like it was his own personal failing that had you in the clutches of the villain that he had literally saved you from.

“Let me walk you home.” Shouto says, moving to grab the takeout bag from you. You knew that you’d probably be okay with walking the rest of the way home, but Shouto’s face read as though he had already made up his mind- he was going to walk you home. And you really didn’t mind being doted on by him for just a little longer.

When you approach the door of your apartment, you pause. You know you should probably call it a night, thank Shouto for what he had done and that you’d see him next time he decided to stop in for lunch, but you can’t help wanting to be a little selfish. You wanted to occupy a little more of his time, if he’d let you.

“Do you want to come inside and eat some of this?” You ask.

Shouto looks confused for a moment, and you swear you notice a slight red tint to the man’s cheeks before you gesture to the takeout container.

“Someone forgot to pick up their takeout order- there should be two zaru soba sets and some tempura, if you’re interested.”

“Ah,” Shouto says, looking down at the bag in his hand. “I would very much enjoy that.”

You unlock your apartment door, flickering the lights on and kicking some of the clutter you had laying on the floor underneath the couch before Shouto could come in. You tell Shouto that he could start eating the soba at your coffee table if he’d like, and that you could throw some tea on if he wanted.

He declines, sitting on your rug, salvaging the containers of broth and mentsuyu and noodles. When you sit down across from him, you watch as he dips the buckwheat into the sauce and takes a bite. His eyes widen, and you’re about launch into a tangent about how the sauce probably wasn’t how he liked it today, when he suddenly says:

“This tastes a lot better than it normally does.”

Something inside you breaks.

“You… prefer it this way?” You ask slowly, unbelieving, shocked when Shouto nods.

“It’s usually shit.” Shouto says, completely deadpan.

You laugh. You can’t help yourself. It’s a full, straight from the gut, ugly chortle. You can barely find the breath required to respond to him. “You– I messed up your order, but you tipped so much and kept coming back, so I thought– I thought you liked it that way.”

“You’ve been purposefully poisoning me this whole time?” Shouto asks, an eyebrow raised at you as you try to compose yourself, but the soft grin that graces his lips lets you know that you won’t really end up the next person arrested.

“You kept coming back to the shop! And asking for me in particular! I thought you just had bad taste.” You explain, wiping your eyes. “Why did you keep coming back if you hated it so much?”

Shouto pauses, letting his eyes wash over you. He’s focused on your lips when he confesses.

“I wasn’t going for the soba.”

It takes a minute for you to process what he had said, feeling your body light aflame once more. You can’t believe this is happening. Having Pro Hero Shouto in your living room is surreal itself, but implying that he was interested in you? You wonder if you’re dreaming or if this was all an elaborate prank by management to punish you for messing up on the job.

Shouto packs away his portion of food, analyzing your body and expression again. “Is your thigh still cold?”

Absolutely not, you think, but nod anyway. A little too enthusiastically, but that doesn’t deter Shouto. He moves to you, extends his hand to help you up from the ground, and pulls you close by your waist. You’re flush against his chest, close enough to feel his heartbeat, the erratic thrumming a twin to your own. His left hand grazes the back of your thigh, right underneath your ass. His hand is warm, firmly grasping the meat of your thigh. Though only slightly warmer than the rest of his body, his touch feels searing to your invigorated nerves.

“Tell me if I’m going too far.”

“You’re not.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Go further.”

His lips meet yours then, and your body turns to putty. He lifts you with ease, a perk of having that immense Pro Hero strength, and rests you on your couch.

“What’re you doing?” You pant when he breaks away, his hands at the button of your slacks.

“You asked me if I wanted to eat some of this.” He says, kneeling down in front of you. “And I do.”

You shimmy out of your pants, and Shouto wastes no time. His mouth presses a hot kiss against your clothed sex before peeling the offending material to the side, the flat of his tongue stroking up and swirling around your clit. You whimper, hips bucking into his face. Shouto is a man on a mission, mouth unyielding, groaning at the taste of you.

“You taste so good, angel.” He mutters against you, “Better than the soba.”

“Let it go.” You groan, though you can’t stay angry at him for long, not when he’s wrapping his lips around your clit. You can feel him smiling, the little shit, at making you flustered.

When he sinks his fingers into you, curling his digits and stroking the spongy roof that lived there, it’s over for you. Your thighs squeeze the sides of his head as you cum and Shouto moans, his free hand squeezing the tent that had grown between his own legs. Rolling waves of pleasure overtake you as you gasp Shouto’s name, his fingers and mouth unrelenting until your body calms.

He’s peppering the inside of your thighs with warm, wet kisses, and you swear he’s about to go in for seconds before you interrupt him.

“Bedroom, Shouto.”

At your command, he’s lifting you again, carrying you first to your bathroom (you should’ve clarified the direction) and then to your bedroom, laying you down on your mattress. Shouto is quick to undress, pulling his pants and boxers down in quick succession. You sit up from your bed, biting your lip at the sight of his cock. You can’t help but kiss the pink tip, salty precum staining your lips, before taking him completely into your mouth. Shouto lets out a shaky breath as you work your mouth on his cock.

“You’re– a lot better at this than you are at sauce making.”

Any protest you might’ve had dies with the firm grip he holds on the back of your head.

“You’re doing great, angel. So good for me, so perfect.” He whispers, encouraging you as he shallowly thrusts into your mouth, careful not to overwhelm you. “Mouth feels so good on my cock.”

He pulls away, suddenly, his breath labored, and gently presses you back into your mattress. You strip yourself free of your remaining clothing and Shouto pauses.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, gazing up from your spot underneath him.

“You’re beautiful.” Shouto says, a hand moving to grasp your breast. He seizes your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and you arch into his touch. “I’ve wanted this since the first time I saw you in the restaurant.”

You can’t imagine that- Shouto gazing at you while you did your silly little tasks at the soba shop. Wanting you like this, stoking the embers of longing within him like you had for him.

“Me too.” You whisper, and Shouto slowly thrusts into you, one hand steadying itself on your hip and another on your breast. Your body screams with the need to touch him, too, so you run your hand up the length of his abs from underneath his shirt. It’s unfair, you think, that his shirt is still on. His body was sculpted by the gods themselves, all muscles and lean sinew. You think of the shirtless photos that exist of him on the internet, either for hero photo shoots or paparazzi shots of his suit ripped open during battle.

And now that same man is above you, rolling his hips into you, whispering into your ear about how wet and tight and perfect you are around him.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, angel.” He mutters against your neck. “Let me kiss you more.”

Your lips move sloppily together, rhythm dictated by Shouto’s deep thrusts inside of you, tongues working together as you drive each other closer and closer still to the edge. You cum again, throbbing around his cock, arching your back as he continues rocking against you. Shouto’s not far behind you, a strangled gasp spilling from his lips as his hips still.

Shouto rolls over, hand finding yours in the darkness. His thumb strokes over yours, watching you gently as your breath evens out.

“Shouldn’t have spent so much money on some shitty soba.” You mumble, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll get lunch somewhere else for a change.” Shouto says, pressing a kiss to your head. “Preferably with you.”

“I think that can be arranged.”

You were starting to get sick of soba, anyway.

#todoroki x reader #Todoroki x reader smut #shoto x reader #shoto x reader smut #shouto x reader smut #todoroki smut #shouto x reader

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dinofromspac3 · 1 year

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Time Lords get Sick too

Clara Oswald x Time Lord!Reader

Summary: Being a Time Lord, Y/n didn’t tend to sleep, so when their girlfriend, Clara, finds them in their room on the TARDIS fast asleep she worries.

Third person, they/them pronouns, 11th Doctor makes an appearance

Fluff.

Clara woke up on her own, this morning. That never happened. Mornings on the TARDIS usually began with her partner, Y/N, waking her up by jumping on her and attacking her with kisses.

But not this morning.

Clara went looking for Y/N, confused and concerned about why this morning was different. She found them in their room, curled up in a pile of blankets, fast asleep. At first, Clara couldn’t help but smile at the sight, but quickly that smile faded when she saw the sweat on Y/N’s brow and the troubled look on their face, like they were having bad dreams.

She went up to them, brushing some hair away from their face, and immediately she noticed how warm they felt. She had placed her hand on their forehead and Y/N jolted awake at the sensation of Clara’s cold skin.

“Shh shh,” she brushed her fingers through their hair. “It’s okay, it’s only me.”

“Clara?” Y/N questioned as they came to their senses. “What happened?”

Clara smiled empathetically. “You didn’t wake me up today. I came to find you,” she explained. “You’re burning up, Y/N/N.” She frowned, still running her fingers through their hair.

“Oh, am I?” They said confused, their brain still very clearly not fully awake. Clara frowned, and placed a loving kiss to their forehead. Y/N shivered pulling the blankets tighter around themself.

“Y/N/N, I think you might be sick,” she said softly. “I’m gonna go get the Doctor, stay here, okay?” Y/N just closed their eyes, and Clara knew they weren’t going anywhere at the moment.

A few minutes later, Clara came back with the Doctor. He kneeled down, next to Y/N and felt their forehead, waking them up again, as they had quickly fallen back to sleep since.

“Hey, hey you,” he cooed. “You’re in one hell of state.”

“Still not as bad as you, mate,” Y/N poked fun, making the Doctor chuckle quietly. Then he took out his screwdriver and did a quick scan. “So what’s the diagnosis, Doc?”

He looked at his screwdriver and read it’s results. “Ah, I thought as much.”

“What? What is it?” Clara wondered, a faint bit of worry in her voice. She’d never seen Y/N sleep before, and clearly they were sick. She didn’t know how bad it was, but the Doctor didn’t seem so worried, which eased her nerves a little bit.

“Don’t worry, Clara,” he turned to her with a smile. “It’s just a rough bit of Noctis Fever, essentially a time lord’s flu.” He tossed his screwdriver once in the air, and put it back in jacket. “Plenty of rest, and they’ll be back on their feet in no time.”

Clara smiled, sighing in relief at the news. “Oh, that’s a relief. I don’t know why, I didn’t realize time lords could get sick.”

“Of course we can,” the Doctor scoffed at the idea. “We’re not gods, Clara.” Then he smiled and gave Clara a pat on the head, before leaving the room. She sat down besides Y/N, and resumed stroking their hair as before. Y/N smiled at the contact, but still was shivering.

“Your hand is cold,” they said, quietly. Clara let out a soft breath of a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, tucking them into their blankets. “How about this, I’m going to go make you the classic, human remedy to all sicknesses, a nice warm bowl of soup. How does that sound?”

Y/N smiled, loving Clara even more in this moment. “That sounds nice,” they nodded.

“I’ll be right back,” Clara smiled again, and left for the kitchens.

Doctor Who Masterlist Main Masterlist

#clara oswald x reader #clara oswald #doctor who #fanfic #clara oswald x timelord reader #doctor who x y/n #doctor who x reader #11th doctor #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x platonic reader

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seaweedstarshine · 3 months

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Thinking about the convolution of Eleventh Doctor's expressions of love for River Song in Season 7B. He does not trust Clara. He is utterly (wrongly) convinced that he and Clara are playing a grand manipulative game together. “What are you, eh?! A trick? A trap?!!”

So naturally, the last thing he should do in this game is to clue his opponent in on something that could be used to hurt him. Something like River, so painfully near the end of their time together, whose data ghost he can always see, who “it would hurt too much” to acknowledge. He can't let Clara know of the loss which constantly floods his senses; (“You are always here to me. And I always listen, and I can always see you,” he professes, once Clara has vanished into his timestream).

And yet. River fills his every moment (irregardless of any sneaking out for dates with increasingly-young Rivers while Clara is asleep like he did while the Ponds slept, which would explain his absence when the TARDIS is hiding Clara's bedroom). Even though it's not strategic, he can’t help but tell Clara about her. The best defense he can manage is to phrase it as if River isn’t as important to him as she is. Not only is avoiding her first name in his grief; he's also completely avoiding pronouns; which seems extreme given that he's still mentioning her as often as: “Oh yeah, of course he has! Professor Song! Sorry, it's just I never realized you were a woman.”

Leave out the emotion — leave out the details — don't show the cracks in the armor — play the part — win the game.

“Well, there's no point now. We're about to die. JUST TELL ME WHO YOU ARE.”

#I mean we KNOW that the doctor immediately started pouring his hearts out to Clara as soon as NotD ended <3 #Clara tells the war doctor “he's always talking about the day he did it” okay so he's always talking about it starting after the prev ep #eleventh doctor #river song #clara oswald #words by seaweed #yeah I know the implication in Name of the Doctor is that eleven is two-timing them / worried abt Clara being jealous. which. eh. maybe.#but I like this better. also both things can be true if we want them to be #eleven is in SUCH a bad way in Season 7B too he needs to be held #“I thought it would hurt too much and I was right” ever think about how Clara was there for in the deepest moments of his grief?#whether his sad victorian cloud… on the Last Day… or on the day he was finally able to say Rivers name. he thought it would hurt too much #Tia made a really insightful post recently about how eleven can’t speak rivers name when she's gone and like. god. yeah.#it also made me think about. who would he even talk to River about? if he could? after years on a cloud drowning in her present nonpresence #ever think how if HoRS had happened before Hell Bent he never could've dealt with it and coulda broke the universe for River instead #Series 9 was a continuation/escelation of eleven's (and next twelve's) “he hates endings” - endings for Amy and Rory. for River. for Clara.#he hit rock bottom. and then Clara saved him #“You said memories become stories when we forget them. Maybe some of them become Songs.”#thank you Clara <3 #one episode later:#“When the wind stands fair and the night is perfect when you least expect it but always when you need it the most- there is a Song.”#bc this is NOT to undervalue the Doctor's love for Clara he has a Duty of Care she's more Breakable than him (also than river!)#but it can it really be a coincidence? bc he is talking abt river in the second one. unless Moffat is obsessed with Song imagery? I MEAN

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billpottsismygf · 3 months

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The Legend of Ruby Sunday

Well that was certainly dramatic! A lot of questions answered, but more questions created. It's hard to have a conclusive opinion on this episode because it's so definitively only half of the story, but I certainly had fun throughout. There were lots of really funny bits of dialogue and good character moments, and a lot of drama.

I'd seen a couple of people speculating about Sutekh but I hadn't looked into why and, although I have watched The Pyramids of Mars, I don't remember an awful lot of what goes on in it! From what I recall, he wasn't that impressive a villain so the huge majesty and fanfare he's presented with here is quite interesting. He was a guy with a silly mask on in the 70s and here he's a somewhat ugly CGI dog, but I'm open to seeing how they connect these two versions of the character.

So, we have several people, all women, running around at the moment who have something to do with the mystery. 1) There's Ruby's birth mother. Why can't they see her face? Why was she pointing? 2) Mrs Flood, who turns out to be pretty unpleasant if she's refusing Cherry a cup of tea. Unlike the two I'm about to mention, she seemed to know what was coming and obviously about the TARDIS (and the camera) from the christmas special. 3) Harriet Arbinger, who is a harbinger of Sutekh. 4) Susan Twist, who is... another harbinger of Sutekh? It seems like Kate's chrysalis theory was right with her, at least. Does she serve the same role as Harriet? Is the little boy who was Maestro's harbinger have anything to do with either of them or did he just serve the same role?

Sutekh is apparently the mother and father and other of the gods, which could mean a bunch of things. For one it implies variation of gender, or at least an existence outside of it, which is interesting with the he/him pronouns and yet all these women who seem wrapped up with the plot, as well as the ongoing theme of abandoned children. Carla also called him the Beast before he'd even fully manifested, which of course brought to mind The Impossible Planet/The Satan Pit, especially with the soldier who died saying he was in hell. Probably no connection, but who knows! He is also specifically name checked as being Set and Seth from Egyptian mythology. What does it all mean!

Also, how did Sutekh latch onto the TARDIS in the first place? Does the fact that the Doctor mallet whacked the TARDIS to double it in The Giggle have anything to do with the present situation? I didn't like that at the time because she's a living being and he just cloned her(?) or split her(?) or something, but now I'm thinking it would make sense if it connects to how she got infested with Sutekh in the first place.

Speaking of the TARDIS-Sutekh connection, I loved that the TARDIS anagram was so obvious the UNIT team laughed at the Doctor explaining it, which makes the "wrong anagram" reveal even better. RTD knew the fans would work out the TARDIS anagram immediately (which they did) and that it would be a red herring for us just as much as for UNIT! Though not that much of a red herring, since the TARDIS is involved. Is it perhaps a little silly to create your evil secret corporation under a name that might give away your evil secret plan? Yeah, but I like it at the moment.

I'm so glad Susan Triad isn't Susan Foreman (at least, it seems that way). It's another big old red herring. I've been desperate for Susan to return for so long - and I would still love her to, and maybe she even will in this arc - but I don't want her to return like this! Not as a villain and not as someone other than Carole Ann Ford. While we still have her, let her play Susan again! Please!

I am fascinated by this stuff about the Doctor having her before having children... It's been established in the past that the Doctor did have children and that he lost them all (eg. in The Doctor's Daughter), but here Fifteen seems to be implying that he hasn't yet. How does that all add up? I love the idea of having children out of order, and have always somewhat rebelled at the assumption that Time Lords have children in the same way as humans (ie. sexual reproduction between two parents of "opposite" sexes). Gimme Looms or something equally bizarre or nothing, so I'm definitely down for this; I just wonder how it actually makes sense for the Doctor.

I'm so happy to see Rose again! Obviously we knew she'd be in this, but she's a great character and I adored her dynamic with Ruby. Very cute! I loved the Doctor's line about them being two shades of red. I hope they'll develop the stuff of her not being given much to do, as I guess basically a nepotism hire, because I want her to get to do exciting things! On that note, it is odd if she's so kept out of things that she stays in the room after everyone who is not necessary is made to leave. I know she's necessary in that she's a UNIT employee who is important to us, the viewers, but it doesn't quite make sense with what is apparently her role in the organisation.

Saving perhaps the most interesting for last, the CCTV of the night Ruby was abandoned was 66 metres away. Otherwise known as 73 yards. My ears pricked up the moment they said that, though I needed to check afterwards that they were the same, and that surely can't be a coincidence. I don't know if I need anything more about 73 yards, despite my many questions at the end of it, but it could be very interesting if the events of that episode have something to do with the bigger picture.

Overall, fun and engaging episode in its own right, but I'll have to withhold final judgement until next week!

Misc things

Rose says it's been ages since she last saw the Doctor, so we're a while after the specials. Also there was mention of 2004 being 19 years ago so we're currently in 2023.

It's interesting we have two characters in this story (Susan and Rose) who are named after important companions, each the original companion of their run of Doctor Who.

I love that the Trickster got a mention. So many people seemed convinced the Trickster would be the big bad coming up, but at least he got a name check.

I loved Carla's energy in this one! True Donna vibes. She only had to hear of the existence of Rose's mum at UNIT and decided she was also going to be involved.

Susan Triad says she remembers worlds with orange skies, which certainly sounds like Gallifrey, so could there be a Susan connection after all? I noted down that her father was a postman and her mother a dinner lady, but so far have gleaned nothing from this.

I love Lenny Rush! I've seen him in lots of things at this point and he's so charismatic and funny, especially for a fifteen year old. I hope Morris will stay on for a while yet!

It seems strange that UNIT didn't know about Susan (Foreman), since I'm pretty sure we've seen in the past that they have files on all the Doctors, including One.

#doctor who #the legend of ruby sunday #doctor who spoilers #dw #dwe15 #mine #dwmine #reactions

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trashboatprince · 8 months

Text

Hey, remember a while back when I was making art and stuff of Ten in a skirt because fashion has no gender and the Doctor would look cute in one? And I wrote a whole one-shot about Ten buying one with Donna being there as support? This one?

I decided to do a part-two with Fourteen and Rose Noble.

As always for me, I write Fourteen as enby going by they/them, but doesn't care what pronouns people use for them. However, Rose is not aware of this at first, so she uses he/him before she learns.

On with the fic!

"Do you ever sit still?" Rose snickered, watching as the Doctor shifted in his seat on the bus, looking at whatever was going on through the windows on either side of the vehicle.

"Impossible for me, clearly." The Doctor said. "Your mum and grandmother won't stop complaining about me fidgeting at the table. Just yesterday, Sylvia told me not to sit cross-legged at the table! Much more comfortable, if you ask me."

"Yeah, and when you put your feet on the floor, she told you to stop tapping your feet on it." Rose grinned and the Doctor grinned back.

The Doctor had been living with the Noble-Temple family in their temporary home provided by UNIT for two weeks now, and Rose was getting used to the alien being around. He was actually really cool, once you got past his odd quirks. But she had developed some of his quirks from previous incarnations throughout her life, so she couldn't say anything.

Today was Saturday, and Rose was looking forward to a shopping trip in town. She had gotten paid well from a few sales and wanted to celebrate with getting some supplies. And a few new items of clothing, her closet could do with it. The Doctor had tagged along because he wanted out of the house, and Mum had the key to the TARDIS so he couldn't go in there to do whatever it was he did in there.

Also, hence why they were on the bus.

But it wasn't like the Doctor couldn't just get into the TARDIS without the key. He had the sonic, and he said she'd open for him easily, but Mum was strict about the retirement thing. No running off for adventures or whatnot!

Still, the Doctor happily had agreed to come along with Rose into town, saying it wouldn't hurt to do a bit of shopping for himself. Yeah, he said he had a lot of clothing in the TARDIS, but Mum and Gran were getting on him about dressing like a human, not as... well... Mum said he looked like someone who 'worked in men's wear'. And this made the Doctor bristle, saying something about how she's never gonna let that one go.

Whatever that meant.

"Ooh, this is our stop." The Doctor said as the bus came to a slow stop and the two of them got off when the doors opened.

He was grinning, bouncing on his feet as he glanced about. "Ah! I know where we are!"

"You do?" Rose asked as she adjusted her backpack purse.

"Yeah! I came here years ago with Donna! This is where I bought-" He stopped and looked a bit flushed.

Rose raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Uhh... I know, I know, dumb to get embarrassed about, considering I was a Time Lady before this face, and you're under a similar flag..."

She blinked and gasped. "Oh! Did you get some feminine clothing from a shop here?"

"Yep." He said, popping the P. "Bought my first skirt here, was nervous as hell about it, didn't know what your mum would say about it. But she encouraged it, said that it was my choice to dress how I wanted and all that. Especially cause I basically came out as, well, genderfluid? Non-binary? One of those to her."

"Oh shi- wait, you're non-binary? Crap, have I been getting your pronouns wrong?"

"What do you use?"

"He/him."

The Doctor shrugged. "I can understand why. I've never corrected any of you guys on it, everyone uses those for me, considering the face and all. Look rather boyish, honestly, even at my old age." There was a bright grin at this.

"Ah, but I personally don't actually see my gender as really a big deal nowadays. I honestly just use they/them when I think about myself now, but I'm not offended or opposed to the use of male or even female pronouns. Though being called 'miss' again with this face would be fun."

Rose nodded, listening. "So... you're fine with me using whatever? Do you have a preference? I remember you telling the Meep you used the definite article."

"That I do! I mean, the Doctor, that's as good of a gender as any! But you can use whatever, I don't care." The Doctor said, shoving hi- their hands into their pockets. Might be better to go with the ones they used for themself.

"Right, got it." She nodded and started to walk with them to the thrift shop down the street. "What are you looking to buy anyway?"

"I dunno, I'll see whatever catches my fancy. Might get some new shoes, I love these ones, but my future self ran off with the ones I got when I regenerated and these ones," The Doctor gestured to the very worn and slightly burnt converses they wore, "were damaged when I went from this face to Chinny. At least he was nice enough to bring them back to the TARDIS."

She laughed a bit at their grumbling as the two entered into the shop. "Thinkin' about maybe getting another skirt or two from here? Since this is where you found your first one, as you said?"

The Doctor paused and looked back at her. "Should I? Think I can still pull it off?"

"Oh yeah! I think you can! If you want, I can help you pick out things."

The Doctor smiled at her, in that soft way she sees them do when they're relaxing, loosening up and not having their hackles up. She grinned. "Come on, let's doll you up!"

They were in there for over an hour, and so far Rose had found more clothing for herself than the Doctor. It wasn't their fault that a lot of things in thrift stores weren't always to their tastes. And this one seemed a bit picky.

Pinstripes weren't for them this time around, they rather liked tartan better, but it wasn't easy to find anything that fit them right. Sizes were also a problem. They were a skinny thing, as Donna put it, so things often were a bit big, and the Doctor liked tighter clothing, there was a sensory comfort there.

But, they had found some silly shirts with ridiculous sayings on them, including one that had Rose and them laughing. It said 'I'm no rocket surgeon', and it went right into their little cart.

They had even found a new pair of converse to wear, not white this time, but they were a really nice dark blue. They even found a pair in hot pink, which reminded them of the two Rose's in their life. Ah, but those ones were too small, oh well.

A few comfy looking sweaters and some buttons up went into the cart as the Doctor browsed, and as they examined a really fuzzy ones in pink and green stripes, they heard Rose call out to them, waving her hand.

"Find something good?" They smiled as she came over and they stared at the item in her hands.

It was a surprise to find a skirt that match their old pinstripe suit perfectly all those years ago, but to find a second perfect skirt, in their tartan? Well... that was...

Probably best not to question the universe, honestly. Not when it came to being around the Nobles.

"It's perfect! It might even be your size!" Rose said, holding it out to them.

The Doctor took it, looking it over. "You think so?"

"Oh yeah, and I think I found a few more in other styles and colors you might like that could work with some of those tops you've picked out. But that one? That's perfect for you!"

They looked at the skirt, checked the size, and put it into the cart. "Thank you." They said, and she looked delighted. "Now, show me these other ones you found!"

"-gonna keep sticking the googly eyes to yourself, I'm removing you from eye duty."

"You sound like your mother."

"Okay, just for that, give me the jar of eyes."

"Nope!"

Donna paused in removing her shoes at the door, hearing her daughter and her adopted alien sibling from the living room. There was some noises followed by laughter and a comment of 'oh dang, we made a mess'.

She sighed and set her jacket on the hook, along with her purse. She walked into the living room a moment later, finding Rose with some of her sewing material on the coffee table and on the floor, where she sat with a half-made plush toy in her lap. The Doctor was seated next to her, trying to scoop up a mess of googly eyes that had fallen out of their designated jar.

Donna noticed that the Doctor did in fact have some googly eyes glued to their arms, clearly meant to mess with Rose or to be part of a telling of a fantastical story of some alien or whatnot. But she also noticed what their were wearing.

"You're in a skirt again." Donna said instead of a greeting.

The Doctor looked up at her, blinking behind their glasses. "Oh! Yes, I am! Rose and I went shopping today for craft stuff and clothing. She found it in a shop, it's that little shop you and I visited. Remember that? Where I got my first skirt?"

"I remember it, you had been so nervous, and once you tried it on, you didn't want to take it off. You even considered finding those ugly galaxy-printed leggings to go with it. Glad to see you didn't give into that desire again." She replied as she sat down on the couch.

The Doctor laughed. "I did get those eventually, remember? Ooh, I think Bill stole 'em from me though, sneaky granddaughter. Anyway," They stood up, knocking some eyes to the floor that had been in their lap, "whatcha think?"

They did a little spin, and Rose laughed at this as more eyes fell to the floor. Donna sniffed. "It's cute, very fitting of you. However, are you ever, EVER going to wear socks that actually match the pattern of your clothes!? Or even just match in general?"

The Doctor looked at their feet, as if for the first time noticing that they were wearing one blue, white and pink sock that was stripped and a red and green sock that was decorated it what looked like hot sauce bottles and chili peppers.

"Nah." The Doctor shrugged and sat back down, knowing that Donna would never win that battle. Still, at least the Doctor could coordinate the other parts of their clothes at least. And besides, the skirt was what mattered, Donna thought as she watched two of the most important people in their life try to pick up their little mess.

Two people sitting happily and comfortably in clothing that made them feel good about themselves.

She could forgive the horrendous sock combo for that.

I love the idea of Rose and Fourteen picking out outfits for each other after this trip.

#doctor who #fourteenth doctor #rose noble #donna noble #john's drabbles

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