#this has way more Nardole and Bill than I planned

[capybaraonabicycle]

Omg I will of course leave the final fic choice up to you, but doesn't "True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)" sound like the perfect setup to a Twissy fic 👀

Thank you, love!

~1.5 k words, so much for "let me just write 5 sentences for you real quick". But it's, of course, because you are right, this prompt was made for twissy 🥰

I have not actually read this again, so beware. But here you go :)

[ID: gif of Missy's face in close up, smiling down like she is pitying someone mockingly. end ID]

“Can't you move a bit faster?”

If silly little companion pulled on her sleeve any more roughly, he was going to lose that new hand of his. Or maybe his nose, she wasn't really picky. The nose might taste better, Missy mused. She was quite sure it was the original one and not some cyborg-technology the Doctor had partly scavenged, partly cooked up himself. But that reasoning implied she had paid attention to the egg-head's babblings and she had a general policy never to do that.

It was lucky, comic relief had paid closer attention to her, however, because she didn't even need to voice her threat. Breathing out her nose audibly and baring her teeth sufficed easily and he squeaked, jumped, dropped her hand and hurried on a few inches further away from her.

“I am a time lady, snickerdoodle” she drawled, making a point of walking a tad more measuredly instead of hurrying up. “I always walk at the exact right speed.”

The Doctor's snack had the audacity to huff but he wisely chose not to talk back.

“It- it is just” he stuttered instead, “the Doctor, he is -”

“-dying?” she finished, already bored. “That's his usual Thursday, pup.”

“He asked for you!” the idiot-in-training blurted out and despite herself, Missy stopped and blinked.

“He did?” Now that were exciting news for a change. A bright smile grew on her face, simultaneously with the rising panic in plucky assistant's eyes.

“He said you could save him” he whispered, somehow managing to have his voice creak when he wasn't even properly using it.

“He did?” Missy repeated and by now her smile was positively giddy. Eggy started whimpering softly.

Missy didn't give him time to gather his bearings, instead grabbing his arm forcefully in turn, making him jump again. She brought her face close to his for good measure, revelling at the terror in his expression.

“Why. Didn't. You. Say. So. Immediately?” she asked, her voice stuck on the same note throughout the words, too high, too cheerful to be anything but disconcerting. “Hurry up, pet: I've got a day to save!”

He shuddered away from her and picked up the pace again, not looking back. But this time she was right there with him, excitement surging through her veins. The Doctor was in actual danger, helpless, pathetic and he had asked for her. Because he loved her. Because he needed her. And – most importantly – she would get to gloat. Once she had saved him. Which she obviously would. No matter what idiotic thing he had done, her silly sausage, she would get him up and running in no-time. She was his best friend, after all. His very best friend.

They reached the Doctor's office only a few minutes later, and Missy immediately noticed how serious the situation was. The psychic waves coming from him were all over the place – and not in the fun, chaotic way they usually were – they usually were a lot subtler as well, some things he had learnt in his thousand years of spacetravel – they were hurtful almost, full of pain and distress. She knew he was lying on the ground before she saw him, knew he was still conscious, too, even though his other little munch was convinced of the opposite. Missy paid her little mind how she was sitting on the floor with him, crying and mumbling affirmations. She only got in the way, really, with the way she was cradling the Doctor's head in her lap, she couldn't help him after all.

“I am here, oh, apple of my eye” Missy exclaimed dramatically, dropping to the floor at his side with great flourish.

“I don't, I don't think, he can hear you” girl-companion hiccuped through her tears, but Missy waved her interjection away.

“Of course he can, silly-billy” she huffed, reaching for the Doctor's hand that had come to lie on his stomach. She pressed it to her chest, holding on tightly.

“I am here” she whispered. “Tell me, Doctor, what do you need?”

Oh, she liked playing the hero. Being the one who held the Doctor's life in their hands. Being the one everyone looked at with those worshippy, wide eyes. She thought, right now, she could fathom why he had gotten addicted to it.

“We think he got cursed” supplementary fuss said behind her back. “We were on Tigella, and there was this sceptre. The Doctor touched -”

The last of the words died in his throat when Missy whirled around to him.

“Do you know what you're talking about?” she asked sweetly, but didn't give him a chance to answer. “No, you don't. So shut up before I change my mind and make a nice soup out of the three of you instead of helping. - okay?”

She fluttered her eyelids to emphasize the point and his mouth snapped shot, his jaw tightening.

“Thank you, much appreciated.” Missy turned towards the Doctor again, nearing her ear to his mouth. “Doctor, what do you need?”

“I need -” he rasped and french-fries-friendywend gasped when she heard him speak, almost making Missy miss his next words. Did these bumbling humans ever learn? “- a kiss. From – my worst enemy.”

“Awww” Missy bit her lip, drawing back. He needed his arch-enemy! And he had thought of her. “How very touching! I am so honoured, I am not even gonna bargain.”

He didn't answer or open his eyes, but there was a pleased twitch around his mouth that made her press his hand.

“I have to say though, Doctor,” she purred, leaning in again, “if you wanted for me to kiss you, there would have been easier ways to ask than going through the trouble of getting cursed.”

Now he snorted and measured by the state he was in, this tiny bit of banter was the greatest love confessions out of all the ones he had bestowed upon her today already.

“Come on, now - “ he coughed, “Missy. You would – have never – been content with – any – thing less – elaborate.”

“True” she smirked. She was hovering right above him now. “And I appreciate the effort, darling.”

His lips moved, searching hers, and she waited just another second, savouring the moment. Then human-thingy coughed pointedly and she drew it out yet another second, simply to antagonise her. But his breath was getting visibly shallower and there was a slight tremble in his hand. Plus, his lips looked chapped like burnt Earth and just as inviting. So, finally, she led their mouths together, her hand slipping across the extra's leg to support his head.

The moment their lips touched, it was like the life flooded back into him, his mouth's movement becoming more purposeful and his tongue meeting hers cordially when she slipped it past his teeth. His free hand even twitched, like he was trying to grasp her frock.

Of their own accord, Missy's eyes closed and for a moment she lost herself in the feeling of their lips meeting, the familiar taste of his tongue, the desperate way his breath fanned her chin and cheek, reminiscent of many breathless nights spent together, oh so long ago.

But then, his movement slowed, a distressed sound escaping his throat. Before Missy could decide whether to draw back – finally killing the Doctor by kissing him to death would have been an end she could have deemed worthy of their friendship – a rough hand was on her shoulder, pulling her away from him. She hissed and whirled around, biting hard into the offending limp. So, the sniveller had decided he didn't need this body part, after all, it seemed.

He cried out, pulling his hand away from her mouth with a pathetic whine. Missy spat out some blood and fake skin with a huff. It tasted as horribly as she had expected.

“What did you do that for?” he sobbed.

“Don't touch me, crybaby” she huffed, turning back around to the Doctor.

He was still lying motionless, if possible even paler now.

“Why didn't this work?” his pillow croaked, close to tears again. Missy drew her eyebrows together in agreement. Indeed. Why hadn't it? It should have worked, she had been supposed to save the day!

For some reason, the Doctor was smiling. Mind, it was barely visible, frail as he was, but Missy could read his face like a book in every incarnation and that so was his satisfied smile.

“Seems like,” he mumbled, “we aren't – strictly – enemies anymore, love.”

“Of course, we are, don't be stupid” she pressed out. Only now she noticed how desperately she was clutching his hand, it was almost like she was trying to imitate spare-parts over at the door who was licking his own injured paw.

“Don't smile” she told the Doctor off, and she was sounding more serious than she had any right to be. “You are dying and I am your enemy. You don't get to smile at that.”

She was sure, if he had had any strength left, his smile would have grown now.

“I am – sorry, Missy” he breathed instead, “but I must – ask you – to fetch – Da – Davros.”

Missy felt her mouth drop open in shock and humiliation. Davros? Fucking Davros got to save her Doctor??

This was rock bottom.

Thank you for reading, I hope it is about what you envisioned <3

[variousqueerthings]

I know I'm going to die. I have to say it, the truth. Without hope. Without witness. Without reward. I am your friend.

I'm sick, so I can just sit around and talk about Doctor Who. today, "Extremis," aka the gameification of alien invasions feat. M*ffat using the Vatican church as an excuse to write dialogue that he thinks sounds clever (fun facts for everyone who wants to morosely shake their heads, M*ffat is writing a show about cancellation and has plans to make a British West Wing...)

sexism rank objectification (female character is ogled/harassed/turned into a sex joke by the doctor and/or a lead we’re supposed to root for and/or the camera): 7/10

sexism rank plot-point (lead female character is only there to serve plot, not to have her emotional interiority explored, or given agency to her emotional interiority): 4/10

interesting complex or pointlessly complex (does the complexity serve the narrative or does it just serve to be confusing as a stand-in for smart, this includes visually): 4/10

furthers character and/or lore and/or plot development (broader question that ties into the previous ones, at least two of these, ideally three should be fulfilled): 7/10

companion matters (the companion doesn’t always have to be there, but if the companion is there, can they function without the doctor– and overall per season how often is the companion the focus or POV of the story): 3/10

the doctor is more than just “godlike” (examines the doctor’s flaws and limitations, doesn’t solve a plot by having it revolve entirely around the doctor’s existence): 6/10

doesn’t look down on previous doctor who (by erasing or mocking its importance, by redoing and “bettering” previous beloved plotpoints or characters, etc.): 6/10

isn’t trying to insert hamfisted sexiness (m*ffat famously talked a lot about how dw should be sexier multiple times, he sucks at writing it): 7/10

internal world has consistency (characters have backgrounds, feel rooted in a place with other people, generally feel like they have Lives): 5/10

Politics (how conservative is the story): 6/10

FULL RATING: 55/100 (if I can count….)

We're back into more of a standard M*ffat era rating with this one. makes sense, seeing as this was written by M*ffat

OBJECTIFICATION: I rate this one down purely for Nardole calling Bill "babydoll" -- yes, yes it's a joke, but I don't like Nardole's character, I don't think the joke works, and I think it's patronising rather than charming/silly/whatever they were going for:

BILL: Nardole, are you secretly a badass? NARDOLE: Nothing secret about it, baby doll. (Then he stops suddenly and whimpers)

there's also the way M*ffat writes lesbians... unsure whether to put this here or under hamfisted sexiness, so I put it under both. I don't think this is the worst in the way M*ffat has written women on this show, and in many ways I still think Bill is far more well-written than, say, the relationship between Jenny and Vastra, and I think that may in large part be due to Pearl Mackie not playing it as sultry in the way I know is so common in M*ffat era. the script runs like this:

BILL: Are you okay? PENNY: Yeah. Sorry, I'm just not quite used to all of this. BILL: Well, whatever this is, and actually it's not anything yet, it is absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. Okay? PENNY: Okay.

this is, to be clear, pretty much the extent of the date that Bill and Penny are on that we see, this is the main gist of conversation they get to have, alone at Bill's apartment. whether they were out before that, or whatever else they've talked about in the past is unknown (and then they get interrupted by the main plot starting)

it's got the air of forbidden lesbian pulp leading into a steamy sex scene, and it's a shame it just hovers in the middle of nothing like this (what do they have in common, how was the rest of their date, have they spoken about this before, etc), so yeah, I am rating it down, but not too far down, because I think Pearl Mackie and the other actress manage to deliver the lines without them sounding completely stupid. still, M*ffat, you've managed to write lesbians who don't talk like a porn-intro simulator. they could have been chatting about literally anything that gave us an insight into why Bill likes this girl!

PLOT-POINT: Bill is revealed to be a simulacra in this one -- not like when Amy was revealed to be flesh, and her apparent involvement in the first half of s6 completely irrelevant, it's just this one episode

still, it means Bill's actions in this episode are somewhat pointless.

Simulacra!Bill on the other hand, goes through all the stages of horror upon finding out she isn't Bill. I think it would have been cool if this had been more the core of the episode, and not only at the end, after all a lot of Doctor Who is "who is a person (everyone)," but this Bill is in the end not there to explore that, she's mainly there to reveal the plottwist

COMPLEXITY: IIIII wasn't a fan of the execution of this episode. I kind of like the idea (aliens simulate invasion plans and people within them at some point come to the realisation that they're not real and it drives them crazy), but the execution is so overblown and ridiculous, I don't take any of it seriously, and frankly several times wondered if I'd missed something as I was going through it

I think M*ffat does this a lot while I'm watching, and while it isn't technically his fault that I feel stupid watching his plots, it does make me resent him whenever it happens -- I'll watch a plot, lose the thread for a bit, go "wait, am I understanding this right?" look it up, discover I am understanding it right, and M*ffat just put in several pointless set-pieces that got me distracted, and it's not that complicated

there's just no need for it to function in the way it does. I also think it's such a missed opportunity to really lean into a Matrix-like world -- not to say Matrix itself, but the ways the Matrix makes the audience notice the oddness/inconsistencies of "reality," puts you on the scent, vs this episode which is designed to make you confused, but not because you think anything's amiss, M*ffat just confuses people constantly without reason

there's this bit as well were a bunch of CERN scientists blow themselves up, and I think it's a shame that this didn't take place purely at CERN in a way that introduced it properly to a younger audience -- I think you'd be forgiven for coming out of this episode knowing exactly as much or little about CERN as you did coming in, except now you associate it with crazy German guy blowing up a cafeteria full of people all spouting the same numbers (because they're simulatioooons, which we don't know yet)

all the Vatican stuff is sooo... ok I'm biased on that. I find the Vatican intensely boring as concept, and I think it's because everytime I see something about the Vatican (barring idk. the young pope or the exorcist) is always about making it this mystical fascinating place, more or less completely devoid of anything that delves into its humanity, never mind its horrible no good chokehold on millions of people and historical cover up of a whole buncha crimes. I get the latter, this is Doctor Who, but what was the purpose of the Vatican, other than to be like oooh cool mysterious Italians. Dull dull dull

OH AND THE FUCKING!!! COMPUTER CHARACTERS FEEL WHEN YOU SHOOT THEM THING!!!! STUPID! WAIT I'M GONNA PUT THAT ONTO POLITICS JUST YOU WAIT M*FFAT! I'M NOT LETTING THIS ONE GO!

the ending is neat, I like the ending. everything getting there is soooo peak M*ffat, minus a woman being sexually assaulted or harassed

oh and there's a simultaneous little narrative of the Master being sentenced to execution and the Doctor has to be the executioner. I always like the Doctor and the Master interacting, of course, and technically this could be cool. To be honest, I think there could have been a great whole episode about this concept, but unfortunately this is not going to happen, and this is one of those excuses to make the Doctor seem soooo cooooool. I'm actually not sure why it's there other than to reveal that the Master is in the vault

thematically I don't think the two plots have much to do with one another, but then I watched it about 2 weeks ago so maybe I've forgotten something important

CHARACTERS/LORE/PLOT: at the end of this, the Doctor doesn't kill the Master, and there's an invasion coming, the Doctor is still blind, and Bill decides to shoot her shot with an attractive woman that the Doctor saw her simulacra self go on a date with

I like once again how the Doctor takes an interest in Bill's life, and in this case urges her to give it a go, and I'm always a fan of seeing the Master, but it's of course the invasion that will be followed up on in the next two episodes, and again, I like the idea of aliens running invasion simulations

just noticed nothing that happens in this episode is actually the way the invasion goes... that's next episode's business though

COMPANIONS MATTER: in this one, they do not really. it's interesting because simulacra!Bill and simulacra!Nardole actually spend a significant amount of the episode away from the Doctor, doing their part of plot, but there's nothing really that they discover that the Doctor doesn't also figure out, so.....

“GODLIKE” DOCTOR: the rating in this part is, I confess, almost purely because of the whole execution bit. because at the end of that we have another M*ffat classic. the Doctor essentially says "hey, I can do what I want" the alien says "lol no" and the Doctor counters "I'm the Doctor actually and I've killed sooo many people" and the alien is cowed and awed into letting the Doctor do whatever they want

actually I wonder now, in the grand scheme of the universe in Doctor Who, has the Doctor killed more people than others? not discounting that there aren't a lot of fatalities, but even including the ones the Doctor elected just... not to save... even including the Time War (which we've partially undone so the count is back down again), you telling me there aren't whole galaxies destroyed in other wars or ruled by tyrants or idk. buncha weird species out there who enjoy doin a violence

like yeah, he's killed a lot of people, but surely these "we specialise in execution" guys have seen worse, considering they must execute the worst of the worst (or whatever, they're not well-developed). perhaps I'm being pedantic, but eh

remembers that M*ffat did this aaalll the way back in silence of the libary and then never stopped doing this. it's one of his get out of jail freecards that I hate the most

PREVIOUS DOCTOR WHO: there aren't really any callbacks or tie-ins. the closest would be that fuckn killcount machine moment

“SEXINESS”: I rated this down for the lesbians writing, because despite how it was played, that script was dumb as hell

INTERNAL WORLD: see, technically M*ffat could get away with not being a particularly good world-builder in this one, because it's not real, but I'm not letting go of him casually tossing in the Vatican and CERN just cos in the way he did, and the space executioners are just there to give flavour

you'd think this would have been a dream come true for M*ffat, he could have done anything, and instead it was indistinguishable from his usual world-building

POLITICS: okok, let's talk about simulacra and computer games. this episode is actually completely devoid of politics, something I pointed out was kind of odd considering they're giving us the Vatican and CERN (not to mention the beginnings of an invasion plot), but then the Doctor has to throw out there just for flavour that apparently computer game characters feel it when you shoot them

I think that's the thing with M*ffat and politics. either they don't exist where they probably should, or they're just for flavour. but let us consider this concept for a bit, from the perspective of the simulacra -- the Doctor has acknowledged, on some level, that they are alive. alive enough to feel pain, to go crazy upon discovering they're not the people they think they are, to (in simulacra!Bill's case) plead to be saved

is he saying then, that every character in a computer game is alive? or has the potential to come alive (when sophisticated enough). what does this mean for the rights of computer games in the world that they inhabit? and within that idea, what does it all thematically, metaphorically mean for real life rights, because scifi politics is really always about real life politics

I mean, we're never going to explore that in this era, because it wasn't about that. I think there's a wider question that Doctor Who has to ask in its "everyone is people" conceit, because as we all know not everyone is really people in Doctor Who. it's one of my favourite parts of Doctor Who, but it's enforced loosely, which is a shame

I'd be curious about a "everyone is people" ranking (possibly starting with nu!who, I'm too early in my classic watch for my brain to do much more than simply go brrrrrrr), and when this matters and when it doesn't -- there's a biiit of leeway, because sometimes villains are people, and sometimes they're not, but also sometimes the Doctor's in too much of a hurry to explore the personhood of a villain, so... it's not a hard and fast ranking, I'd just be curious

anyway, this episode fails the "everyone is people" criteria sooo badly

FULL RATING: 55/100 (if I can count….)

this one has many of the M*ffat hallmarks: overblown plot with a ton of stupid dialogue that's meant to sound deep (the flipping way they use the word extremis in the plot itself is soooooo *rolls eyes forever*), a lack of thematic relevance overall, and an inability to give the companions something important to do or mean in the plot

it's not the worst of M*ffat plots, but it's kind of a disappointment for having a pretty cool core idea that feels like it needed way more drafts to cut out the dead weight and shift some of the flightier notions into something workable

it does however set up the next two plots, which I've cautiously decided to do together, even though they're quite tonally different. we'll see how that goes. and gomez!master is great as always

[twelverose]

will you tell the truth? (so i don’t have to lie)

okay here is my fic for @mouserat-vevo​ for the dream team exchange. i hope you enjoy it and i truly tried my hardest to not make it angsty (it happens, it is my writing style) but here is some twelverose. as we all know, it’s what my blog provides content for.

you can read it on ao3 too, if it’s easier. 

Feels like I've known you my whole life I can see right through your lies I don't know where we're going But I'd like to be by your side If you could tell me how you're feelin' Maybe we'd get through this undefeated Holdin' on for so long

Bill had just left the Doctor’s office. They had talked about the Battle of the Pyramids. It was a good conversation. About the decline of the Ottoman empire and the rise of the French. Along with many details that the majority of historians wouldn't even begin to know. And the segways that led to details only The Doctor himself would know. Although, when it came down to it, it was dull. Not speaking with Bill. Bill was one of the few reasons he stayed. She had a spark that led her to break rules just to hear him speak. What more could he ask for?

It was the being stuck in place. Talking of everything and anything was entertaining. But the Doctor felt out of place. Who was he to be stuck? With monitors and professor duties, he didn’t have much room to escape. Which is something he has been trying to plan for the last three weeks.

The Doctor has left the time period- and planet- less than fourteen times since being made an executioner-turned-guard. Rose had a few more, but they were quick trips. They hadn’t aged a day. And most didn’t notice in the almost seventy years they have been here. The ones who did were people like Bill, who deserved a trip in the Tardis, but seemed to miss their chances. He hoped that Bill wouldn’t. She deserved to see just how big her world could become.

“Doctor?” Rose’s voice echoed in that unnatural way through his office.

He looked up from the paper he had been trying to grade, “Are you trying to be everywhere at once again, Rose?”

“Isn’t that the job you asked me to cover?” He could hear her mother in her voice.

“Well, I don’t normally take up the entire room with my voice.”

“You do that every weekday.” Rose reminded him.

She moved across the office to his desk, sitting on the only corner that wasn’t covered in papers and pens. She picked up one of the papers, his most recent assignment being about folklore from his student’s childhood. Some were old legends, others were stories shared by parents, most were rumors spread in primary schools.

“D’you think we inspired any of these?” She asked, pointing at the title.

The Legend of the Inhabitants of Downing Street. The first paper he had read, evident by the colorful marks across the pages.

“Who else would? Your mum? Mr. Ricky?” the Doctor glanced up with a smile, “There’s no denying that we collide with trouble, especially on Earth. I think we deserve the stories.”

He caught Rose rolling her eyes. His gaze shifted to where she was pointing in the margin of the paper. It was a drawing of a slitheen. He had done it while reading the descriptions of the so-called Raxian aliens. Even writing he had heard a similar story from a student from Cardiff.

“Have you ever met Luke Smith? Him and Sarah Jane were the ones who dealt with the Slitheen and their relatives whenever we were off on our own adventures. I think he’s graduating from Oxford this year.”

Rose chuckled, setting the paper back into the short graded pile. “Yes, Doctor. I’ve worked with Luke a few times, especially since you’ve been busy here.”

The Doctor’s face shifted. He could feel Rose’s gaze shifting into a downward expression of her own. Running away, even for just a night, was harder to do with Rose around, it was hard to do given the entire situation. Nardole on his back about staying and Rose caring too much between how him and the other Timelord felt. He had a lot on the line reminding him to stay. And he didn't like it. Granted, he had gotten himself into it. Agreed to do it for the sake of an old friend. What else was he supposed to do? Deny to help? For the sake of his own restlessness?

“Doctor, what’s wrong?”

He looked up at Rose. Perched on the corner of the desk he kept clear just for her to sit at. The empathy in her eyes seeped into his chest and made him feel a little less heavy. Weight was the only thing he could compare it to. The Doctor wasn’t sure how he felt. Homesick? Stuck? Lonely? The lack of the universe in his life was opening a hole he didn’t realize he had in his chest.

And he wasn’t one to accept such human emotions.

“I’m not sure.” He answered truthfully, “I am here and doing what I need to do. Not much else to do, is there?”

“Well, there is if you’re a native,” Rose tilted her head as if she was checking off a mental list, “And considering you’re married to one, I’m sure I could show you.”

“Ah, so you’re a native to Bristol now? Have you decided to change your hometown with my account now?”

His sarcasm was followed by him trying to return his focus to his paper. The Doctor was about to reply that he had too much to do with the university. He had grades and lessons and he’s sure he could come up with something else he needed to do. He hadn't really done anything fun since becoming a babysitter. Outside keeping staff and students on his toes with what he was a doctor in. And he was rarely one to ruin anyone’s night with brooding.

But Rose could see that coming. She knew just how to challenge him.

“If you can leave your desk for a second and spend some real time with me. I’m sure it would give me the chance to update you on who I am. And solve some of your problems.” She completed her sentence with that tongue in tooth smile.

The Doctor stood in the console room of the Tardis, waiting for Rose to come out of the wardrobe. While they did have a flat provided by the uni, most things outside of casual clothing were still kept on the ship. He wasn't sure what she could possibly be looking for, considering it was supposed to be a quick night.

The ship hummed when they entered, almost wary of what was going to happen next. The Doctor realized that his Tardis seemed more alive ever since Rose had come back. It was easier for his ship to communicate with them- and companions- outside of a telepathic link. It was no lie that Rose still held an impossible amount of the time vortex and Tardis in her. But it seems to have taken an especially large place in her heart. They seemed to connect in a way that the Doctor never experienced.

It was like the Tardis’ life grew with every beat of her heart.

And his hearts seemed to beat a little faster when she emerged from down the hall. She was in a dress that he had not seen in a while. In fact, the was time he saw it was when she got back after leaving to go save lives without him for the first time. So it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her like this before. But it was different. It seemed natural in between the things they were doing, in the time they’ve spent together, in what they’ve done since becoming stationary. It was so blatantly human. She reminded him why he took such diligent care of this planet. Even if it left him so stuck.

As Rose made her way to the console, he couldn’t help the grin from spreading across his face.

“Well, what are you going to change into?” She asked pointedly. Eyeing the same outfit he had been wearing this morning.

“What?” He asked, faux offended, “Is the hoodie ruining your own look? Should I go get a dress of my own?”

Rose laughed, “No but I put on something just a little nicer, so can you.”

“Are you sure about this, Rose? We could always just stay in, watch a film.” He tried, despite himself. She creeped towards him with a mischievous look on her face.

She put her hand on the center of his chest and leaned up, “Why don’t you put on the blue suit? It’s an easy enough change for you.”

As if he thought he could get out of this, “Isn’t it more for you?”

She smiled as she kissed him, “I think it’s for the both of us.”

They wound up at the Old Duke. Which was one of the few pubs that the Doctor actually knew of in Bristol. Which wasn't saying a lot. It was busy. With the end of semesters and beginning of spring, a little more life was in the city. The Doctor watched the people around him mingle and meet up. It was like he was on the outside looking in. Even with Rose next to him, he wasn’t sure how to blend in the way she did. It was all natural. To accept that it was something to enjoy, there was nothing they needed to do. Nothing more than to experience the night and life around them.

“Are you alright?”

He smiled as she nudged his shoulder, “Excellent. How else would I like to spend an evening relaxing with my wife?”

“I didn’t say anything about relaxing,” He couldn't tell if she was actually annoyed or implying something more, “We’re at a jazz bar. You’d know that.”

“As everyone knows, jazz bars are great for spending time with your drunken pupils. Especially with live music.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Rose laughed at him, “Why don’t you focus on spending your time with me?”

She laughed over her words like that should’ve been written in his mental plan all along. Because it was obvious looking back on it. A night out with Rose. Time to spend focused on her. To spend with her. But he wasn’t one to see the obvious things at first glance this time around- even with how aware he was with his own. Everyone else tended to slip by, maybe because he wasn’t sure he could handle much more emotion on his plate. He would never understand how Rose kept up with everyone.

But it was easy to focus on how she was waiting for his next move, one he didn't know how to make.

“Well, what did you have in mind for the night?” The insecurity in his voice was much more prominent than he planned.

Rose tilted her head with a grin, “I’m always one for a few drinks and dancing. I don’t think I’ve gotten to do that with you yet.”

Her eyes glanced him up and down when she put emphasis on the word.

“Seems quite bland, like playing Senet with a dog who’s too focused on the sticks.”

She waved her hand at the bartender to get their attention, “You have to learn what it’s like to have fun with the rest of us plain humans.”

He took whatever she had ordered for him. It was stout. And he wouldn't bother to remember to remember the name, he was busy mulling over Rose's words.

"What could you be thinking about now?" She asked, gentle with her tone.

The Doctor shrugged, "About your suggestions for the night."

She grinned, "What's so philosophical about 'em?"

"They seem a lot easier to do at home. Between just the two of us."

"That can come later, Doctor. Let yourself out of the cage you trapped yourself in.

The Doctor’s next choice was an impulsive one. But it was one that Rose was trying to make too. So drinking to drink was new in his book, but it is what everyone else was doing. So he fell into the small pattern, going through with committing to it sooner with his surroundings. Especially with the people Rose was talking to coming closer to them as the pub got louder.

He was being reasonable with his choices still, but she was the one who told him to act like a human.

Rose was the one to reach out to others. He kept to himself. He was rude and sarcastic and she could flip a switch to become a people pleaser. No matter how unnatural it was, she had taken up the role of being the charmer. And this situation left him unable to speak without worry that he would say the wrong thing.

“You’re a lucky lad, y’know?” The guy Rose had been talking to said, “Getting a knockout like her? She’s one in a million.”

The Doctor chuckled, “She’s a lot more than that. Worth everything I know.”

He wasn't thinking about what he was saying anymore. It felt nice. It felt right to be brutally honest, in a way that was sweet.

He held his hand out, “I’m Samuel.”

“Just Doctor.”

Samuel laughed, “Easy enough to remember.”

The Doctor learned quickly that it was easy to talk when it was about Rose. Especially when he was intoxicated. And when he had an audience listening.

It was only three other people, but still an audience.

He told stories of the travels he and Rose have experienced. Ones that were easy enough to explain given the time period and planet. It was easy to tell how she saved and stood up for people without question. He was using the same tone of voice he would use when standing up in the uni hall, telling kids a story that would make more sense a little later in life. Like the world was better every time he told a story involving her selflessness and empathy. Like if everything in this universe could settle on a single fact, it would be that Rose Tyler was a human in a deity's body. And she would never know that.

When his new friends walked away, he finally glanced down at the woman he was just talking about. He realized that she stopped pulling people to the side to talk, she had been listening to him the entire time.

“What?” He asked her this time.

“You’re getting the hang of it.” She smiled.

He furrowed his eyebrows, “The hang of what?”

She just laughed. Like if she told him, he would be embarrassed.

“You could just tell me, makes the guessing games a lot easier.” He said off-handedly.

She rolled her eyes, “Means you get to follow a script you’ve set in your head. We're not doing that tonight.”

“Is that so?”

He didn’t realize how fast his hearts were beating until she put her hand against his chest, “It forces you to live a little more than you have been on this planet for the past seventy years.”

Maybe that was why he was feeling a little lighter. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure if he ever would know why. But the live music starting up gave him an idea that would keep her on her toes. He’ll follow her itinerary until he had the chance to throw in his own. It wasn’t much. But it was different. Much like the night.

And so they started talking to the regulars that were around them. Since everyone else moved toward the center of the room, around the stage. The people around them were the ones who found comfort in the bar stools, a familiar world with the music. Who were here to listen to the bartender complain and to tell stories to new folks looking for a fun night. They offered the same, odd stories to the people they'd never seen sitting next to them before. Some that sounded like they came out of the tabloid, others were handed down through generations. But they held an importance.

The importance was greater than the Doctor saving the planet. They were actions and moments that would teach someone else how to live in such a timeline, in such a limit of time. There was soul. And it was casual. It was nothing more than a story to entertain a stranger.

“Are you alright?” This time, it was a newfound friend sitting next to him.

The Doctor wasn’t sure how he should reply. He was overwhelmed. Unsure of how to explain his alrightness with all the things he knows.

“He’s had a bit to drink tonight,” Rose broke in, “First time seeing this part of Bristol.”

He nodded, remembering his own plan.

“And it’s about time to head home, isn’t it, Rose?”

As they made their way down the cobblestone streets, the Doctor started laughing loudly. Watching their feet stumble over the uneven pattern. Listening to Rose hum the song the band had been playing. It felt right, the chilly air sneaking its way up his sleeves. Wrapping his arm around Rose’s shoulders. watching other's move down the street like them. Listening to the shouts and music come from other pubs, the rustling of restaurants and shops. With everything going on, all the Doctor could focus on was Rose.

When she grabbed the resting hand, his chest filled with heat- that feeling of love that made you want to yell. To thank for everything that lead them to this moment. That feeling that was full of adrenaline he couldn't control. He couldn't explain it's source. But it made him hyperaware of everything in the moment. The way her hair curled when it got to her shoulders, the streak of grey that she tried to hide. The way her eyes glittered at him as they stopped to face each other. The melodies in her voice as she asked him what he was doing. That tongue-touched grin that he couldn't help but return. He was taken to a place that didn't need time. Taken to their own piece of forever.

So instead of shouting to the stars, he took moved her with the music in his mind, twirling her.

“You didn’t forget.” She said, when they came chest to chest after the move.

She laughed. Grinning at him when they were in a position they had found themselves in so many times before. Chest to chest. His hands on her waist. Hers locked behind his neck. It was natural. To dance was to say so much more than their vocabulary would let them. Even if they hadn’t done so in a century. They moved along to the muffled rhythm of another jazz bar. Like the streets were made for them. To stumble over and to find each other. To relearn familiar moves. To rediscover each other after being on auto-pilot for so long.

“I’ve got moves, Rose.” He echoed his ninth self, “They’re just a little different this time.”

They moved down the street. Taking pauses in their walk to dance to muffled music. Rose’s laugh echoed down the street and into the Doctor’s heart. It kept him eager. To keep her in this mood, to keep her laughter like that for the rest of time. Even if it was just for him. It was a long walk. Full of heartfelt movements and little speaking. They didn't need to share their thoughts. They were the Doctor and Rose, moving in sync, rarely thinking about it.

Only if the stories mentioned the moments like these. What would they be in someone else's eyes? These moments they saved just for each other were the ones that a world could create a revolution about. At least, that's what the Doctor believed. That's what the Doctor would do if he ever returned to his own home.

“I love this you,” She said, holding his hand as they came close to their apartment, “Older, sure, but you're handsome. There’s never any question in what you're saying. Certain and pointed. You’re sure of yourself. You’re so in tune with what you're feeling.”

“I feel like this is leading to an insult.” The Doctor chuckled.

“You aren’t afraid to love. You don’t need to be. So stop trying to hold it back.” Rose looked up at him, “Because for the first time in a long time, you're speechless with something that already has a phrase. Admit to it and I promise that this time will pass quicker than you think.”

He felt the weight grow a little lighter. He pulled her to him for a kiss. Unfiltered and impulsive. It was everything he wanted and needed. Just for this moment. And several more to come.

When they pulled apart, he rested his forehead on hers, “It will always be you, Rose. If I could grow old, it would be with you. I’m gonna spend forever with you. It will always be you.”

[beyondconfessor]

Unsaid Desire

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Missy/Reader

Summary: You've been asked to babysit Missy into being good while the Doctor runs off a quick mission, but she has other ideas once she realises what's pressing through your pants.

Note Before: Crossposted onto AO3

The Doctor had a knack for bad timing. You were on your way downtown for a hot, dirty hook-up with an ex––the kind of hot, dirty hook-ups where she texted “Do you still have that toy? You should wear it when you come and see me.”. So you did because you wanted that kind of filthy sex where you fuck some hot girl in an alley while she digs her nails into your shoulders.

But it was just as you were leaving your house in your best casual date clothes, with a strap packed comfortably in your pants, that the Doctor appeared and began advising you that there was urgent business, yes absolutely, no problem, he’ll get you to this exact moment, if a few minutes later, but you are URGENTLY needed. Right. Now.

Did he mention it was urgent? Because it was URGENT.

An urgent mission…to babysit, so it seemed.

It involved you staying in the TARDIS while the Doctor, Nardole and Bill went out and explored the cool alien town. Because you were to stay here and look after Missy and ensure she Did Not Get Up To Anything (though you knew that if Missy wanted to get up to anything, you wouldn’t be able to actually stop her. You wouldn’t even tattle on her because, honestly, you liked your insides to remain in the insides of your body more than you feared the Doctor).

So, there you were. In the TARDIS console room, packing for a hot date, watching as Missy bent over the console to adjust the TARDIS monitor that the Doctor had set up for her to watch as he, Bill and Nardole did Good Things.

Unfortunately, the camera the Doctor had on the lapel of his jacket was jerky and prone to cutting out, however, which meant Missy was often fiddling with the TARDIS to fix it, because, as she had told you, that was far more interesting than you were.

You shifted in your seat, arms crossed, sinking in on yourself.

Usually, you were up for whatever the Doctor said, but you had had a hot date and were now being told you couldn’t step out to the new planet, so your mood was a burning mix of frustration and arousal.

“Grumpy today,” Missy said.

You looked up at her, and then glanced away, ignoring the way her skirts shifted around her ankles as she fiddled with the console. “I had somewhere else to be.”

To that, she paused. “And what’s more fascinating than being in an alien craft? Don’t you humans get all gooey being in something so far beyond your capabilities to understand? I mean, it’s bigger on the inside! How can it be?” She mocked, eyes going wide as she posed, waiting for your response.

You ignored her, choosing to stare at the wall instead.

Missy’s heels clicked, edging closer. It made you want to pull back. There was something about the way her perfume washed over you that made you want to bury your nose in her throat and inhale deeply.

“Something the matter, poppet?”

“No,” you responded flatly.

You had an awful feeling that she knew where your thoughts were when you looked at her. There were times when you thought the filthiest things (just briefly!) and watched as her head tilted to you, a slow smile pooling over her lips before she turned away.

It could be a coincidence. You wanted it to be a coincidence. But you suspected otherwise.

“It’s just us girls, here,” she said. “You can tell me anything.”

You looked at her, and for a moment wondered what she would do if you said what was actually on your mind. Given her disgust about humans need to “constantly breed” you doubted it’d be anything nice (not that that bothered you. Her snarking commentary was nearly as good as how you imagined she sounded when you pressed her to a surface and sucked on her neck).

You exhaled, pushing the thoughts away. “There’s nothing to say. Shouldn’t you be watching the Doctor?”

She scoffed. “Because he’s going to quiz me later?” You paused, holding your tongue and her eyes narrowed. “How original of him. Well, I’m sure that watching him negotiate with a bunch of plants will certainly be the missing thing for this rehabilitation he’s going on about.”

“I think he’s trying to play to your fear of failing.”

“I don’t have a fear of failing,” Missy said, and there she gave a strange look. “If you’re afraid to fail, then you make mistakes. Sometimes the most frightening thing can be succeeding.” She turned, looking back to the video. It seemed to only be Bill and Nardol talking at the markets––even you felt your mind haze in disinterest, despite the alien culture.

You turned away, thinking about the hot date, about the way your pants pressed between your thighs. About how you kept wanting to ask the doctor about the future of sex toys but always seemed to shy away from it at the last moment because it felt like asking your dad.

By some point in the future, on some planet, they must have developed a strap the wearer could feel, right?

Missy was leaning over the console again and all you could think about was pulling those skirts up over her waist.

Un-fucking-fair for the Doctor to pull you away from a hot date. It’d been months since you’d had your tongue in another woman. You were nearly climbing the walls and half prepared to shag the first girl you could get your hands on and had you not cared for your friendship with Bill more than your own needs, you might have tried something there.

But you cared for Bill’s feelings. Or, you were pretty certain she wasn’t interested in you anyway and it was easier to simplify it that way.

“Come here,” Missy said. You looked at her and watched as she made an exacerbated look at you. “Well, I’m not going to bite you.”

Pity.

“Unless you ask first, of course.”

You swallowed, squeezing your jaw to prevent yourself from saying anything stupid as you walked over and stood beside her.

“What do you want?”

“I need you to move that,” she said, pointing to a nozzle out of her reach. “And then hold that while I do something marvellous but utterly incomprehensible to your tiny mind.”

“Why?”

“Because the picture’s fuzzy and in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t hear,” she snapped the last bit and you stepped forward, moving to where she asked you to stand. “Turn that twice, and hold that red button while I…do this,” she said. And you watched as she flicked through a few buttons, flicking switches, turning other things, and then she did something you didn’t expect.

She pressed between you and the console, reaching to touch something to your far right, as her arse wiggled against your front to squeeze between, you watched as she tensed and then suddenly pressed firmer to you.

The room felt hot and muggy all at once.

“Last I knew, human biology being changed in your decade requires quite an extensive surgery, and you don’t have the smell of someone who's had surgery.”

You swallowed, pulling back, but still holding the dial. “I didn’t plan to be here tonight. I was meant to be somewhere else,” you explained, before biting down on your dark. Your face was hot and you just wanted this to be over as fast as possible.

Missy turned to look over her shoulder, her smile going wide as she moved back, pushing against you. “And you were all prepped for your…paramour was it?”

The flush burned across your cheeks. “We don’t need to discuss it.”

“Oh, but I think we should. Is it an earthen one, or have you made your way to Sirius Sixty-Nine yet?”

“Sirius…sixty-nine?”

“It’s…think of it like an extensive alien sex shop that takes up the size of a planetoid. Named by humans, of course. But we can go there if you’re curious. The Doctor won’t even notice,” she was purring her words by the end of it and you could feel her slight wiggle as she pressed firmer against you. “I bet that human biological need to breed has you desperate to feel what it’s like to penetrate someone.”

“I can penetrate plenty with my hands,” you said as if you hadn’t just been thinking about what it felt like to have a cock.

Missy turned on her heel so her back was to the TARDIS console and her front pressed against you. All at once she’d propped herself up on the console and wrapped her legs around your waist, tugging you close. There was a heartbeat pause at that, as you felt your jeans press to her, knowing where it was pressing. “It’s different,” she said. “When you penetrate someone with a cock, when you feel that person squeeze around you. It’s different to your hands. Especially if your hands are…” and there she paused, grabbing yours and tugging them down, to wrap around her sides, below her breasts. “Occupied,” she finished with a sharp look, daring you to move them.

You swallowed, thumb tracing over the material of her blouse, feeling the corset bones underneath your hands. “Missy.”

“Don’t you want to feel me?”

“Don’t tease me. This isn’t fair.”

“Who said anything about teasing?” She asked, holding your gaze steady. “You don’t know what I want.”

“You don’t want this. You’re always making fun of…” you wanted to tug away, but her legs were firm around your waist, her hands deceptively strong around your wrists. “I didn’t think…you’d like that sort of thing.”

“What? That I don’t care for the simplest bodily pleasure? I’m not immune to desire. Now tell me, shall I go and find some other way to busy myself while the Doctor is off doing good? Or can I count on you to follow through with those nasty thoughts you’ve been having of me?”

“You…” and you trailed off, because the correct response, from the Doctor, would be to ensure she paid attention to what he was doing.

But Missy’s eyes were so blue, and her mouth was parted, her chin lifted up to look at you, causing the curve of her neck to become more apparent. You wanted to trail your mouth down that curve, to kiss her skin and tug the clothes from her body. You wanted to taste her and feel her, and––

You should have been worried that she confirmed your very fear of telepathy, but you could feel the corset moving with every breath of hers, watching her breath grow slow and heavy, her face tilted, waiting, watching you with curiosity.

“What do you want?” You asked her sincerely.

She scoffed, tugging your hands away. “If you can’t figure that out––“

There you stopped her, grabbing her and pressed her back to the TARDIS console just as she attempted to wriggle out from between you. “I said…” you repeated, slow, firmly to her as you held her still. “What do you want?”

She paused then, and a slow smile pulled over her lips. “How direct,” she teased, rolling her ‘r’s. “I want you on your knees.”

You sunk to your knees and it was all the permission you needed as your hands lifted up her skirts. Your heart thudded in your chest, waiting for the moment she’d laugh, or scoff or just pull a weapon from thin air and shoot you dead.

But she didn’t. Her eyes remained steady on you, watching as you kissed above her ankle where her heeled boot ended, trailing over her calves, her knees and thighs as the skirt was pushed up high, around her waist.

“Do time ladies often go without their knickers?” You asked.

“Skirts like this make them seem redundant,” she said, but there was a knowing look in her eyes, and you felt as if she was reading your thoughts.

No, you knew she was.

Her grin widened. “Perhaps I planned this,” she responded, echoing your own thoughts. “Manipulated the Doctor to get you alone in here with me.”

You paused, holding her gaze steady, watching for any changes to her expression as you kissed across her thigh, your mouth pressing against the crease where her thigh met her hip. Her expression softened, and there you were familiar with the look of desire.

“Are you lonely?” You asked her, “Or only looking for relief.” It was a sincere inquiry. You wanted to know what she wanted.

Her expression sharpened. “You’re a smart girl,” she teased. “Get started and I’m sure you can extrapolate from there.”

You obeyed.

It was easy to feel your mind soften, your thoughts quieten as you kissed over the pelvic bone, across the dark curls. Your hands drew up her thighs and there, with your hands on her hips, you felt her stomach tighten, intaking a breath as your mouth pressed over the slick folds, tongue sliding against the labia to taste the arousal.

Time Ladies, you found, tasted similar to the women you’d been with. There was a softer taste, muted sweetness, but it was still familiar. You stroked the flat over her vulva, before your tongue curled over her clit, testing what she liked––going from firm to soft, fast to slow, tracing different movements as you listened to her breath hitch, her thighs clench and relax around you.

Missy seemed to let you indulge in tasting her, of feeling her breath intake and muscles squeeze, before her hand curled in your hair and tugged you back.

“That’s enough of that, now.”

“Is it?” For a moment you hesitated over if you hadn’t done the right thing, and then her head tilted, her expression softening.

“We’ve limited time, and I’d rather this move to the next step,” she said, so matter of factly you wondered if you were a masturbatory tool to her. And then you wondered if that mattered at all.

You rose to your feet and tugged her thighs apart just as she pulled you close, undoing the zip of your pants, reaching out to pull out the dildo from the depths of your pants. And God, what’d you give to feel that hand curl around you, to feel her stroke it.

“You’re going to be fast about this,” she told you, “and if you’re a very good girl and do this right, I might just break out of my cell and find you again should I ever get the itch.”

“Because I’m going to be at your beck and call?”

“You will,” she said and then she pulled you closer, sliding the toy inside of her so sharply you found yourself gasping.

Well, you’d wanted something quick and dirty. Hand under her thighs, you pulled back and thrust inside of her, watching as her eyes fluttered, her back arching. Each thrust had her melting away, to wherever she wanted to be in her thoughts, mouth parted, a soft sigh on her lips as she rocked against you.

For a moment you were uncertain as to what you should be doing if you should move softly for her––as you usually would for the first time.

But this was Missy. If she wanted soft, she would have made some sardonic comment to the effect. Instead, she was drifting off to whatever bliss she wanted. You knew she was squeezing around the shaft as you thrust inside of her, muscles clenching, and for a moment you could…almost…imagine…

“Your thoughts are awfully busy,” Missy said. “Lamenting over the fact you can’t feel what it’s like inside of me?”

You didn’t respond, glaring at her.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she said, arching, breath itching. “I can give you taste.”

And before you could agree, her hand had snatched at yours, pulling it to her mouth where she placed two fingers over her tongue. Your pace slowed for a moment as you felt her tongue wrap over your fingers, curling as she sucked, drawing your fingers down her tongue and then back.

Her lips pressed over the length of them and oh, God, you felt like you could come from this alone.

And then your fingers were out of her mouth with a soft pop as you dropped them wetly against the console, breathing hard.

“Get back to doing your job,” she said to you, like a teacher giving a sharp warning to put your head down back on your own work.

You swallowed, curling back in your confidence, trying to remember to thrust in her in an even speed––but her hand curled in your hair, tugging so your attention was brought to the brilliant, blue eyes and snarl on her lips. “If you’re not going to do this right, what good are you?”

You glared at her, shoving her back against the console as your hands gripped at her thighs, thrusting back in her. How dare she turn you on like that, and have the audacity to act like––like––

She moaned softly, and then her hand had grabbed yours, leading you to grasp at her hair. You blinked at her before fisting it tight, pulling her head back so her neck was elongated and exposed. Your breath came out in a pant as you leant forward against the flesh of her neck, your teeth dragging over her pulse.

“Yes,” she hissed. “All those years of evolution, and you’re still no better than a dog in heat.”

You bit down, sucking and felt her rock hard against you, a sound reverberating through the air and you didn’t know if it was your enjoyment or hers.

You could feel her thighs tensing, her hips shuddering as nails dug deep into your shoulders, pulling you tight.

And there, in a hot breath against your ear, you heard her exhale in relief before she shoved you backwards from her, sending you with a swift kick to hit the side of the TARDIS.

You panted, pants slipping down your thighs as Missy dropped off the console, onto the mesh ground as she adjusted her skirts and wiped at her neck and mouth, cleaning the evidence of you from her. Her eyes turned to you, and then a sharp smirk formed, before it faded, as her nose wrinkled, looking you up and down. “You can leave.”

“Leave?”

She turned away, adjusting the monitor to look back at the Doctor’s screen, fixing it so at last sound came out before she waved you off. “Off you pop. Go and light a cigarette, or whatever you humans do.”

You bared your teeth, shoving the toy back in your pants and doing it up. The slickness of the toy didn’t escape you, and a longing pulse throbbed in your clit. But your job was done. Well, fuck her then. Thank fuck that was over.

Or so you thought.

As it was, you cleaned up, you sat back in your spot and it was barely another hour passing before the Doctor returned and dropped you back home (a day late, thank’s doc.)

After receiving the half-dozen texts from your ex going from confused to angry, burning a bridge that probably should have remained burnt in the first place, you laid in bed at night, thinking about the exchange, wondering what you would do if Missy turned up.

Tell her to fuck off, maybe.

Unlikely.

You’d bring her inside, undress her off that skirt and pull her onto your face because since those many hours ago, you couldn’t help but think about her grinding on your face.

[isis-astarte-diana]

But None, I Think, Do There Embrace (Part 2)

Part 1 ‖ Part 2

Summary:  “The sight of Missy, conscious and walking, shakes loose a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding.” The conflict isn’t over when the gun goes off.

Warnings: None? Unresolved tension, mostly!

Word Count: 1815

NB: The promised continuation of “The Grave’s A Fine And Private Place”!

“Please, please work!”

The TARDIS hums softly in an inarticulate but clear expression of disagreement. The screen you clutch at with shaking hands remains a blurry mess of jumping pixels, the sound a warbled static hiss. You have no insight into what’s happening on the bridge.

Before you’d even glimpsed the creatures in the lifts, the ship had slammed her doors so hard that you were knocked backwards and off your feet, landing painfully on the metal floor. When you’d scrambled back up and tried to open them again, they wouldn’t budge. You still know precious little about how she functions, but it’s apparent that she’s determined to keep her human cargo safe from whatever wants to take them away.

“Siege mode,” Nardole points out unhelpfully, still fiddling with the console. “Hostile life forms detected on the bridge. No communications in or out. Your life signs are shielded, at least.”

White-knuckled on the handrail, you glance around desperately for inspiration. “We can’t just wait here!”

“I know,” Bill groans, head bowed and cradled in her hands. She sits on the stairs, catching her breath, steadying her racing heart. “I know, but what can we do? The TARDIS won’t let us outside and even if she would I don’t think we could help, I mean - we’re human! Whatever these things are, we can’t fight them.”

“I don’t think we need to.”

You scowl at Nardole. “What do you mean?”

“If they really are only interested in you two, then presumably, once they realise you’re no longer on the ship, they’ll just... wander off, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” Bill sounds quite convinced. “I mean, that blue guy was there for, what? Days?”

At the mention of the armed alien, you wince. You’ve been trying to distract yourself from the image of Missy’s limp body, slumped in the navigator’s chair. “Days,” you agree flatly.

“Exactly. Just try and keep calm, and I’m sure they’ll be back very-”

The doors tear open, flooding the room with the colony ship’s bright fluorescent lights.

“-soon.”

“Chair! Now!”

Any relief you might have felt is drained immediately by the sound of the Doctor’s voice, sharp and furious and full of pain. He has one arm around Missy, supporting her weight, half-dragging her alongside him as he staggers through the doors. Even from across the console you can see the smouldering burn mark on her coat. It’s bigger than your hand and still smoking.

The sight of her, astonishingly still conscious and walking, shakes loose a deep breath you didn’t realise you were holding. You’ve grown to quite like Missy; her quick mind and deadpan black humour had endeared you to her when you visited the vault, and she’s proven herself a useful ally more than once with her effortless navigation of the TARDIS. In truth, despite Bill’s understandable trepidation, you’d been excited to see her at the helm of a new adventure.

Be careful what you wish for.

He drops her unceremoniously in the nearest seat and she lets out a heavy, pained noise at the impact. It makes you wince in sympathy. “Watch it! I’ve just been shot, or hadn’t you noticed?” She falls just short of her usual sardonic wit, too much strain seeping into the words.

“Shut up.” There’s no kindness in it. He works urgently at the buttons of her coat, pulling it open to expose her blouse and the wound left by the laser-barrelled weapon. He’s muttering angrily under his breath. “Missed all the vital organs.”

“Yes, well, if you want something done properly,” she mutters. Then, so sharply that you jump, “oi! What the hell are you doing, man?”

The Doctor has both hands poised over the injury on her side. At first you think it’s a trick of the light, an optical illusion triggered by stress and exhaustion, but as you watch they begin to glow in a vibrant, sickly shade of orange. Light pours from his palms and drenches her abdomen until the scene burns your eyes. It feels like staring into the sun.

“Be quiet,” he says calmly, ignoring her protests. “You’ll take weeks to heal on your own. You’re no use to anyone in this state. I’m just speeding things up a bit.”

You’ve heard of regeneration, of course, but this is the first time you’ve witnessed it. Despite the blinding intensity of it you can’t seem to look away. You move around the console as if in a trance, seeking out a better view. It is, at once, the most beautiful and most frightening thing you’ve ever seen, and you know with every fibre of your being that it is wrong, a violation of physical laws that you take for granted. What unfolds between the Time Lords in front of you spits in the face of everything you know about the universe.

Your normal Saturday has been resumed.

“Oh, for- get your hands off me!” She reaches down to knock him away but he’s already moving, stumbling slightly and bracing his hands on the back of the chair to steady himself. It’s clear that he’s expended some energy.

“Not quite good as new,” he observes. “You may actually have a scar.”

“I always fancied one of those.” She twists experimentally in her seat, testing the extent of her recovery. The only evidence of what should, by all rights, have been a mortal wound is a single low hiss through her teeth. “Consider it a touching memento of my full rehabilitation.”

“Rehabilitation?” He scoffs, cold and bitter. “Do you think this was a success?”

“I saved the humans, didn’t I? At tremendous personal cost, might I add.” She gestures to her side. “This is my favourite blouse, as well you know, and now it’s ruined.”

Provoked by her arch lack of repentance, he raises his voice. “You tried to kill a man! A frightened man, who asked us for help!”

“A stupid man, with a gun,” she bites back. Her hands are tight on the arms of the chair.

“I had the situation under control until you-”

“No you didn’t!”

You almost leap out of your skin when Bill interjects, her voice whip-thin and deafening even from across the room. All eyes turn to her. She’s a beacon of rage, practically vibrating, still fuelled by mortal peril and righteous fury.

“You had no idea what you were doing,” she seethes, pointing an accusatory finger at the Doctor. “You were just chatting away like an idiot, like you always do, thinking you’re so clever, and it nearly got us killed!”

He doesn’t take it well. “I was defusing the situation! It was a negotiation. I knew that-”

“Just shut up! You were negotiating for our lives!” At her side, one hand clenches into a tight fist. You can hear the angry tears making her voice waver as the adrenaline rush begins to fail. “D’you know what, Doctor? You made the wrong call. I never thought I’d say it but Missy was better than you today.”

She turns on her heels and heads deeper into the TARDIS, leaving her scathing words to hang heavily in the air. Shrinking in the face of conflict, you stand stock still, mouth agape, staring at the space she’s just vacated; Nardole makes an apologetic face and hurries after her. For a moment, you consider following, but think better of it. If it were you, you would want to be alone.

Face thunderous, the Doctor moves over to the console, manipulating switches and levers too forcefully until the ship dematerialises with a familiar mechanical screech.

“I think there was a compliment in there, somewhere.” 

Missy stretches out in the chair, apparently unfazed, folding her arms behind her head. You don’t miss the slight flinch as the change in position tugs at her newly-healed wound. He ignores her, working his jaw in silent fury. “Oh, do try and cheer up, Doctor. I’m sorry that your softly-softly approach wasn’t up to scratch today but if you’re waiting for me to apologise for saving-”

“Don’t.” His voice is low and dangerous. “Don’t pretend to care about my friends.” His eyes dart over to you for a moment and you look away, removing your earpiece and inspecting it as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. “You’ve never cared about anyone but yourself. You haven’t changed at all.”

Not waiting for a response, he stalks out of the console room, brushing past you on the way. One hand skims lightly over your shoulder as if to make sure that you’re really there. You allow it. After the day’s events you’re drained, eager for peace and reconciliation that seems far out of reach. Even this gentle touch is almost enough to bring tears to your eyes.

“Well?” Missy fixes you with her gaze and you blush, setting down the earpiece you’ve been fidgeting with. “Aren’t you going to run off, too?”

“I can if you want.” You’re aiming for jovial, but the words come out small and you wince. She raises an expectant eyebrow and doesn’t speak. “Actually, I wanted to say thank you. For saving us.”

“No need. It was all part of my devious plan.” She adjusts a stray lock of hair. Despite the flippancy in her voice it’s clear that his words have wounded her. You frown.

“He’s an idiot. Time Lord or not, I know a man with a bruised ego when I see one.” She chuckles wryly, looking down at the ruins of her blouse. Her hand uselessly attempts to smooth the fabric out. You move closer. Your pulse races when you reach out to touch her; she doesn’t pull away, watching from the corner of her eye as you rest your palm gently on her forearm.

Something changes in her posture. You think of the Doctor, of Bill’s hand crushing yours as you both waited to die, of how every living thing needs to be touched sometimes and your fingers wrap around her slender arm, the slightest pressure, your thumb sweeping back and forth over the thin cotton of her sleeve. She draws a sharp breath and turns to look at you again and you see a thin mist of tears glistening in her bright eyes. For the first time it occurs to you that she must feel as weary as you do.

“Thank you,” you say again, heavy with sincerity. “I’m pretty sure we would have died if you weren’t there. He’ll come around.”

Her face hardens almost imperceptibly and she clears her throat, blinking away the vulnerability with surprising ease. “The Doctor can do what he likes. I didn’t do it for him.”

“You didn’t?” Surprised, your fingers fall still. Her free hand leaves the armrest, coming to cover your own, and she looks up at you with something so akin to hope that your throat tightens.

“No,” she says softly. “I didn’t.”

[nattspencer]

In case of boredom - Part 1

Missy x reader

Part 1 (you’re here) / Part 2 / Part 3 - Complete 

Summary: The reader was always intrigued by the Time Lady. When she jumps into the TARDIS, the readers decided to write a little novel to take her out of boredom, putting little annoying riddles as a password to each file.

A/N: English is not my first language, I’m really sorry for any mistakes. Also, this is my first fanfic here, so please be kind. I already have a part two in mind for this, let me know if you want it.

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.9k

The GIF is not mine

      Sometimes you think your major problem is having too much empathy and caring so much for other people. You can’t just see someone feeling miserable and not try to do anything to cheer them up, even if this means just standing beside them, however, despite your best intentions, it often ends up hurting yourself, since you always internalize some of their issues. This wasn’t any different when a intergalactic murder time lady started traveling with you, Bill, Nardole and The Doctor.

       You had analyzed Missy since the first time you entered the vault with Mr. Eyebrows - you definitely adore calling him that way, the eyebrows always grows frowny proving your point right - primarily, it was just part of your hobby, you loved study people’s personalities - it always helped to create amazing characters for your tales - but there was something about her, something that scary and attractive at the same time and you never were so intrigued. Slowly, piece by piece, observing from a distance every single detail about her, you started to finally understand bits of what's going on under those pale blue eyes.

      The memory of Nardole’s panicked face when he saw Missy sitting comfortably on the TARDIS after your meet with the ninth legion flashed in your brain and it still makes you giggle, it wasn’t supposed to be funny, you were kinda scared in the moment as well, but his reaction and protests were really hilarious. Bill also tried to complain when she found out that the Time Lady would become a regular in the police box, but The Doctor promised that Missy wouldn’t kill any of you, and also the ship needed maintenance.

      As time passed by, you couldn’t agree more with the Time Lady’s words, she was as much a prisoner here as she was on the vault, and defitinaly as lonely too. Missy spent hours immersed in maintenance work while you all rushed throughout the universe in inimaginable adventures, and when the TARDIS finally fills up again, none of you dare to initiate a friendly conversation with her or even just be alone in her presence, too afraid of her impressibility. Nonetheless, the intriguing mocking smile never left her lips, always ready to toy with any of you, and without a doubt, always ready to annoy the Time Lord. No one would dare to say, but all of you loved to see her messing with Mr. Eyebrows.

      “Head in the clouds?” Bill asked sitting on your side, in the stairs of the console room.

      “Kinda, was it that obvious?” You just hoped not to be a weirdo for too long.

      “Looking at a random spot in the ground for hm… fifteen minutes? Yeah, very obvious, and knowing your eyes, you would probably stay like that for some hours” 

      “Sorry, sometimes I just wonder off, you know” You smiled shyly.

      “I do” She smiled back “I also know that your best histories comes out when you are like this, and believe me, I would let you wander off for hours just to read whatever you would write, but a certain Time Lady was starting to stare at you way too much, so I had to save my beautiful writer from weeks of mocking”

      “Oh, you are really my hero” You gave her an exaggerated hug that made you both lay down on the stairs, laughing.

      “Nothing is for free sweetie, I want a new tale on my table by tomorrow” She teased.

      “As you wish ma’am” You did a floppy continence to her order, and then, an idea crossed your mind.

      “Are you okay?” She asked when you got suddenly serious.

      “I think I just found a solution for something”

      “What something?”

     “You’ll see” You answer simply.

      “Just stay out of trouble little girl” She talked with a warning voice.

      “Considering where we are and who we travel with, I don’t think that would be rather possible”

      “Yeah, I suppose you’re right” She admitted with a little chuckle while she stood up “I'm going to bed, try to go sleep soon as well, it was a tiring day”

      “I’ll do my best, boss” She just showed you her tongue and left the room with a smile still dancing between her lips.

      Books! Missy was always reading something to try free herself from boredom, it wasn’t unusual to find some bloody murder mystery novel around her, so the thought came to your mind, maybe, just maybe, you could try to help her through the characters, encourage her to be good and, with some luck, write something that she would really get excited about. Howbeit, you know it wouldn’t be so easy, the plot needed to be tricky, mysterious, unpredictable, and also, you needed her to wait between chapters while you write them - patience was definitely not among her qualities and because of it, she could get bored really easily - so why not put a password in the each file, leaving a little riddle for her to find out? That could be fun.

      A week or so of planning and plotting has passed away and you started writing, thankfully it didn’t take long before two chapters were brought into life, although, you wanted to make sure that she was into your thread before finishing it all, so you began to ponder how to set the perfect bait. You waited until Missy and the Time Lord started their regular argument about some alien knowledge to sneak into the ship, fully aware that they would be busy for some hours and you wouldn’t get caught, you took one of the library's laptops and place it right in the middle of the central reading table, quickly transferring your files to the computer’s main workspace, aside it, you put a little printed note sticked to the screen with the words: In case of boredom. You knew it would trigger her curiosity, now you just have to wait.

      Hours later, when you came back from another intergalactical adventure, you innocently decided to pick a book from the library just for the sake of bed entertainment, of course, and you glanced a little hand write on your sticked note: Pick harder riddles next time. She definitely was on it, and you almost couldn’t hide a little victorious smile crawling to your lips. You kept feeding her with new chapters almost every day with the same strategy, waiting for her to get distracted before you sneak into the place and every single night, after you write, you stood up for hours in front of the computer trying to come up with an even harder riddle. Were in one of these nights that you suddenly realized, nothing would be more challenging for her than riddles about earth’s history, she probably didn’t bother in researching any of it before since Missy despised the planet. It was perfect, and it actually worked.

      Surely, even a terrestrial would have some problem solving your last one ’when the never setting sun empire had to apologize to the biggest lazio’s last flower’ but you didn’t expect to see one of the last of the Time Lords spend a whole three days in just one riddle. You could see by the little popped vein in her forehead how irritated she was for not finding the answer, however you didn’t dare to tease her about it or even talk about it at all, just allowed yourself to sense the little rewarding feeling taking over your chest. 

      On the fourth night, when you were walking towards your bedroom, after checking the Time Lady’s progress, you suddenly felt two arms smashing your body painfully against the corridor walls, and you didn’t have to look to know who it was, actually you were quite expecting this.

      “What is the answer?” Missy demanded with furious eyes and an arm crushing your chest to the wall.

      “Gave up already?” You don’t know where your courage was coming from.

      “If I were you, I would turn all the mocking down, kitten, I’ve killed for much less than that” She placed a hand in your face roughly rubbing your cheek.

      “You wouldn’t kill me” 

       “Why not? Did you forget? I’m bananas” She said very close to your face singing the last word.

      “You wouldn’t do it because you’re too into the story to let it go, too curious, but also too stubborn to ask for a tip from a insignificant little human, especially a tip from the history of a equally insignificant planet, so all your ego allowed you to do was pin me to a wall and demand for a answer, that was the only way you would get what you want and still be in command” Her grip loosened a little bit, and you could see a hint of shock on her beautiful ice eyes, probably no one has ever read her like that “Or I’m just wrong and you’re bananas, of course” You smiled “Either way, I’m willing to give you a tip: Lazio is a italian region, its name refers to the latins, people from whom the Romans descended. Romans in its turn, had Latin as their official language and the vulgar version of it originated tons of others languages, the most recent creation, as people believe, is Portuguese, witch the largest speaking country is Brazil, also, last lazio’s flower is a metaphor used by a important brazilian writer, Olavo Bilac, in one of his famous poems to refers to his mother tongue”

      “And how the hell I was supposed to know that?” Her teeth were clenched and her fingers were pressing your own jaw, not being gentle at all.

      “You weren’t, that’s rather the point dear, but before you throw all your anger in tiny little me, you were the one who asked for harder riddles, and all the information were on the internet, you just needed to find the right track”

      “That’s not harder, that’s just insignificant knowledge” She growned.

      “I know, but that was the only area that I probably would had a little more knowledge then you, so why not take it as a learning opportunity?” Your heart was pumping on your chest, and the adrenaline was present all over your body. Suddenly, she redrew her hands from you.

      “You’re interesting, pet, I’ll play your little game, but you better keep it high level, I get bored pretty easily you know, and you wouldn’t enjoy to talk with me like this when I’m not captivated, you might get kinda too dead”

      “I do acknowledge your facility in get bored, Mistress, had this in mind since day one”

      “Don’t get too arrogant, puppet, you don’t know so much of little old me as you might think”

      “Or you’re too used to be the attention focus to realize that someone, in the corner, is actually observing and analysing you”

      “Am I this important to you kitty cat? The Doctor might get a bit jealous” She raised a eyebrow teasefully.

      “You’re intriguing, Missy, and as you can see, I love intriguing people, always a good inspiration to my characters”

      “So you might want get a closer look” A smirk was growing in her lips as she got closer.

      “I would, if you hadn’t a research to make, you’re four days late” You said as you placed your forefinger in her lips, pushing her back.

      “You escaped this time baby girl, lets see for how long” the mischief was playing in her eyes.

      “You might be a good flirt, but so am I” You winked at her and started to walk calmly to your previous destination.

     “This will be definitely fun” Soon you heard her heels clicking quickly towards the library.

[amillionmillionvoices]

i couldn’t stop myself. river/doctor fic, based on steven moffat’s dream final episode. tooth rotting fluff, this is. pg. 

time is everything, time is nothing, time is ours

She’s been dying for weeks. 

Slowly, painfully, using the last of her regeneration energy to stave off death. For good, this time—her last body, last go around. She supposes it’s fitting, that her final hours would be spent trying, once again, to defeat them. It makes her a bit sour, if she thinks about it too long—there are so many things she’d rather be doing, people she’d rather be with—but she can’t leave. Not now. Not when this little planet needs her, and, she supposes, if she’s going to die for good she wants to die the way she’s always lived—saving the universe. 

Being an idiot, the voice in her head says, one that still, after so many lives, sounds suspiciously like her wife. 

The Doctor smirks to herself, and tries to avoid the screeching behind her, the door that won’t hold much longer. She tries to tune out their cries, familiar and robotic, with that hint of frenzy she’s never quite understood. 

She understands it now. Their desperation. 

The Dalek fleet is the last of its kind—the rest, destroyed in this grand battle, the one she’s been waging—leading—for years. The Doctor’s Last Stand, they’re calling it. It sounds far too dramatic for her tastes, but it’s not entirely off point. She’ll die here, she knows—on this Dalek ship, by Dalek weapons, alone. 

It’s for the best, really. 

The people fighting down below, they’re counting on her. Not to destroy the ship—no, that would be too easy, or perhaps, too hard, she isn’t sure which. No, the plan is much more ridiculous, much more her style. The Captain of the army had called it ludicrous. 

She likes that a bit. 

Behind her, sparks fly as the Daleks burn down the door, and she knows she has so little time left. 

Typing quickly, she does her best to ignore the searing pain in her side, the pounding in her head she’s felt for days. Everything hurts with the effort of not dying, and there’s no regeneration energy left to pull at her skin. But she has to try. Has to give just one more thing to the universe, and pray that it works. 

Yanking out wires and entering codes, the Doctor finally manages to find what she’s looking for—access to the hive mind. Clara had found it once, when she was an echo, and the idea has lingered so long, just out of reach. There’s no way to destroy them all—she’s tried that before, and always failed. She’s tried deleting herself, but they always remember. She’s tried time locks and explosions and everything else, and they always come back.

This time, she’s trying something new. This time, she’s going to change them. 

Groaning when she finds the slippery entrails, Dalek bits that writhe and slither, the Doctor keys in the last few commands, and takes a deep breath. 

Geronimo, she thinks, from somewhere in her memory, and smiles, and plunges her hand into the mainframe. It’s frankly disgusting, and she makes what she’s certain is a horrible face, but it’s only a moment before the Daleks realize she’s there, in their heads, and they scream. Scream, and fight, and the Doctor slams her eyes shut and tries to breathe. 

She’s always thought about giving the Daleks a piece of her mind, she just never meant literally. 

But she can feel it, feel their anger and their hatred, feel everything they abhor. It tries to sink into her, a two-way link, and she pushes back against it, fights it with everything she has, and remembers: 

Ian and Barbara, their strength and their love. Ace, and the Brigadier, and Martha, and Kate and their bravery, their fierce protectiveness, their love. She thinks about Clara and Danny, dying for love. Thinks about Bill, finding love after death. She thinks about Rose and her happy life with another version of her, in love. Thinks of Amy and Rory and their undying love and Jenny and her love and Yaz and her love and Ryan and his love and Graham and Grace and their love and Susan and Mickey and Sarah Jane and all of their heart, their kindness, their generosity, their love. She thinks of Donna and her love, her mercy, of Davros, and mercy, and the Master, and mercy, the Cybermen, and mercy, the Daleks, and mercy.  She fills her head and her hearts with every moment, every memory from her long, long life of love and mercy and kindness. 

She can feel the Daleks fighting back, feels them claw at her mind; part of her is aware the door behind her is caving in, but she needs more time. 

She thinks of Jack and Jackie and Adric and Romana and Wilfred and Nardole. She thinks of Astrid and Rita and Jabe and Nasreen and anyone and everyone she’s ever loved, who’s ever loved her, who’s ever loved anyone at all and pushes it all toward the Daleks.  

Blew them up with love, she thinks, though she isn’t trying to kill them, not this time. Just trying to save them. Maybe that was the answer all along. 

And maybe it wasn’t. 

She isn’t sure, but she knows it’s getting harder and harder to fight, to prove to them that it’s worth it—all the pain and loss and suffering that comes with kindness. 

So she does what she knows she needs to, though she’s reluctant—desperate, almost, to keep her to herself, to share not a moment of their lives together; but she can’t think about love and not think about her, so she lets it spill over, all those times: 

America, and Leadworth, and Stormcage. She thinks of Asgard and Trenzalore and Elvis. She thinks of Sontarans and she laughs and thinks of the Library and she cries. She thinks of Darillium, and smiles so wide her face hurts more than the pain in her chest, her lungs. She thinks of 24 years and so, so much longer, nipping off in the TARDIS for adventures. She thinks of River’s smile and River’s warm hands and River’s skin. She thinks of River getting ready for bed, wrestling with her hair, River getting up in the mornings, grumpy as all hell. She thinks of dancing with River under so many stars, and catching her every time she jumped or fell. She thinks of I hate you and you’re standing right behind me and loving the stars themselves. She thinks of not one line and more than any living thing in the universe and or you and when one’s in love and this is the reason above all I love him, my husband. My madman in a box. My Doctor. 

She thinks of next stop, everywhere, and behind her, the door comes down. 

She can hear them, the hiss, the almost questioned, exterminate? that doesn’t sound so sure, and yet when she looks over her shoulder there’s a gun aimed at her chest and frantically, she tries to remember more, remember louder and more clearly and more lovingly because they’re almost there, almost, so close—

The Dalek aims, and the Doctor shuts her eyes. 

The gun goes off, and she waits for pain and failure and death. 

Instead, the Dalek groans, and the Doctor opens one eye, confused. 

“Really? An end of the world battle and you didn’t call me? I’m insulted, sweetie.” 

Her voice is a surge of oxygen, sunlight and joy. The Doctor can’t help the smile the splits her cheeks—there’s recognition in River’s voice, fondness and devotion and worry, always, but determination, too. 

“And what sort of time do you call this?” The Doctor echos, and River steps around the Dalek, holstering her weapon. 

“The nick of it, I’d say.” 

“As always,” the Doctor agrees, wants to pull her in close, but pain spikes through her head, and she can feel the Dalek’s fighting back. She hisses, turns her attention back to the mainframe and grits her teeth. 

River appears at her side in less than a second, a steadying hand on her arm. 

“What have you done?”

“Ah,” the Doctor says, wincing in anticipation of River’s ire. “About that.”

It only takes her wife a moment to figure it out, to realize what she’s doing, and River gasps. “You idiot! You’ll burn yourself up!”

The Doctor shrugs. “Last regeneration,” she says, half her focus on keeping the Daleks—all that anger, all that hate—at bay. “I’m dying anyway.”

“No, you’re not,” River snaps, “Let me do it.”

The Doctor glares. “Not a chance.”

“Doctor—” Her voice is desperate, terrified, and the Doctor tries to smile, to be kind. 

“No, really, River. I’m dying. Have been for weeks. I’m on borrowed time.”

River’s eyes flicker over her body, looking for wounds. She won’t be able to see it—the shot she took to the stomach, courtesy of a lone Dalek—but River reads her face, the calm acceptance, and knows. 

Still, she shakes her head. “It’s not too late. We can get you to hospital—”

“And leave all these people?”

“Yes,” River says, but she doesn’t sound so sure, and the Doctor smiles. 

“Liar.”

River makes a kind of desperate sound, one that tears through her. “There has to be something—”

The Doctor shakes her head. “There’s no stopping it, River, not this time. I’m sorry.”

It’s the apology, she thinks, more than anything else, that makes River break, her expression falling, bright tears in her eyes. 

“No,” she says, tightening her grip on the Doctor’s arm. “I can’t let you die.”

“River,” she says, so soft, and with her free hand, pulls her closer, their hips pressed together. She reaches up, and brushes a stray tear from River’s cheek with her thumb. “Where are we, then?”

River swallows. “Last time I saw you was the Bone Meadows.”

Her Eleventh self, she thinks, and remembers: River, still in prison, still learning. Himself, still trying to prove something to her, both of them right at the start of such wonderful falling. 

“You’ve got so much more to come,” she promises. 

River bites her lip, and a surge of affection flows through the Doctor at the sight. “We could have more now,” she tries, but the Doctor shakes her head, leans forward, and kisses River’s cheek. 

“Soon enough,” she promises, and River nods, and finally looks down at the wiring, the open Dalek wound the Doctor is currently hooked up to. 

“What can I do?” she asks, so brave, so kind. 

The Doctor doesn’t think about it, not for a moment. “Give us a kiss?”

River half laughs, but doesn’t hesitate, leans forward and slides her hand into the Doctor’s hair and kisses her, soft and salty and she’s trembling slightly, and the Doctor pulls her in tighter, curls her free hand around the back of River’s neck and opens her mouth, kisses her harder. 

River whimpers, hands clinging to the Doctor and she’s warm and soft and safe and alive, so so alive under the Doctor’s hands and she loves her, has loved her for centuries, millennia, will love her forever. 

She thinks of the screwdriver tucked safely in her pocket, the code she’d written, not two days ago, and prays that it works. 

Under her hands, River moans softly and the Doctor grins against her lips, nips at her gently, refuses to let go. If it’s her last chance, her last moments, this is where she wants to be, who she wants to be with. 

She supposes maybe the universe isn’t so terrible, after all. 

There’s a spark, and a surge that knocks them backwards, the Doctor’s hand, burnt and bloodied, flying from the console. 

“No,” she says, “no, no, no—”

“Doctor, look.”

She pauses, and follows River’s gaze out the large window to the planet below. Everything has stopped. The explosions. Even the ship is silent. And then, the crackle over the speakers, a familiar voice with a strange humility. 

“Mercy,” it says. Below, the Daleks start to withdraw. “We bring mercy.”

The Doctor laughs. It may not work for good, may not last long, but the Daleks are retreating, or turning to each other, to the people, and she can hear bits of questions, “How can we help you?” and “We mean no harm.”

“What happened?” River asks. “Are they—?”

“Good, now,” The Doctor says. “At least for a while. At least as good as I am.”

River smiles. “The best, then.”

“Only with you,” she answers softly, and River shakes her head. 

“Sentimental idiot.”

The Doctor makes to answer, but pain overwhelms her and her knees buckle. She hears River cry out, feels hands lower her gently, but she isn’t on the cold floor, where she though she’d be. River cradles her head in her lap, brushing her fingers through her hair. 

“Please, sweetie—”

The Doctor grips her hand and forces her eyes open, wants to see her one last time. 

“River.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

Her hearts break, and she reaches a shaky hand to River’s face, holds her cheek in her palm. “I need—I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“The TARDIS. Bury me in it, and leave her… on Trenzalore.”

“Trenzalore? Why—”

“Long story,” she says. “Has to be lived. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

“You’ll be the only one… who can open it.”

“How?”

“Spoilers.”

River glares, but the Doctor smiles, even through the pain. With her free hand, she grips River’s tightly. 

“I can’t—” River shudders. “I can’t do this without you.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “You‘ll never have to. It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You've got so much more to come. You and me, River. Time and space.” 

“Promise?” she whispers. 

“I promise.” The Doctor coughs, and it hurts so badly, but River is there, and she’s like sunlight through the dark. “Darillium.”

“What?”

“Make sure I take you,” she says breathlessly. “Don’t go without me.”

“I won’t.”

She feels one of her hearts give out, and draws in a ragged breath. “River.”

“I know,” she says, and there are tears on her cheeks as she cradles the Doctor close. “I know, sweetie.”

“Tired,” she manages, and forces her eyes open. “But happy.”

River exhales. “Only you would be happy to die.”

The Doctor shakes her head. “Happy you’re here. My wife.”

“Always.”

With all her strength, the Doctor curls her fingers in River’s hair and rugs her down gently. “You watch us run, love.”

The last thing she feels is River’s lips against her own, River’s hand in hers. 

—

Waiting for River is tedious at best. He’s got a new body now, such as it is, made up of lines and code. He needs glasses—well, not really, but he thinks they make him look rather distinguished—and he’s partial to suits. He takes care of Charlotte as best he can, but the mainframe is overwhelmed and even he can’t fix it from the inside. He knows it’s only a matter of time, however, and tries to be patient. 

He’s a bit better at it this go around, but the way time moves is agonizing, feels awful under his skin and he can’t quite grasp anything, any moment. The years tick by, or maybe it’s only hours, he isn’t sure, and then there’s a surge, and the computer feels like it’s rebooting or dying or maybe neither and then—

Everything calms. The itch under his skin goes away, replaced by an entirely new anticipation. 

He follows Charlotte outside to the courtyard, blue skies everywhere, green grass, and blessed stillness. 

She appears in white, which he can’t help but find a but humorous, a bit fitting. 

“The Doctor fixed the data core,” Charlotte says, and brings River her friends, which, while he’s happy for her, makes him just a tad jealous, for the way she recognizes them and hugs them close. 

He waits, answers their questions dutifully, gives them a tour of the mansion, explains how it works, now that they’re not quite alive, not quite dead. River keeps her eyes on him the whole time, something discerning, calculating in her gaze, but she’s a bit distracted, and he supposes that’s only fair. 

He waits until everyone disperses to find their rooms and settle in before he turns to her, forcing back a smile. “Professor Song, might I have a word?”

River nods, and follows him into the backyard—there are tables and chairs and beautiful bird baths and all kinds of quaint things he can’t wait to show her, doesn’t care about at all right now. 

“How are you feeling?”

“A bit overwhelmed,” she admits. “I never thought—though of course he would, that daft man.”

“Are you happy?”

He holds his breath as she blinks, looks startled by the question. 

“To be alive? Certainly.”

“To be here,” he amends, and tries not to shift his weight. 

River stares off into the distance for a long moment. “I could be, I suppose. It’s just—” She shakes her head, and gives him a wane smile. “I’ve never been fond of confined spaces. Staying in one place.” She shrugs. “I’ll get used to it.” 

The Doctor steels himself. “You seemed content enough on Darillium.” 

River’s neck snaps up and her gaze hardens, so suspicious, his wife. 

“How could you know about—”

He smiles. Soft and warm, and with every ounce of devotion he has in him. 

“Doctor?” Her voice cracks. “How can you be—”

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend eternity without me?” he chides softly. “I’m much too selfish for that.”

River makes a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and throws her arms around his neck. He nearly wilts, holding her so close, buries his face in her hair and breathes her in and she feels solid, feels warm and alive and real and part of him can’t believe it worked, it all worked, and they’re here and together and—

She slaps him, hard, and he grunts, and rubs at his cheek. “I suppose I deserved—” he starts, and then she’s kissing him, mindless of his new face, his new body made of code; mindless of anything or anyone around them. She kisses him fiercely, desperately, arms around his neck and he holds her so tight he’s afraid she might bruise. 

“My River,” he whispers against her lips when she finally parts to breathe. “My wife.”

“Doctor,” she murmurs. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be, dear?” he asks, and she shudders in his arms. “We’re alive.” 

[expelliarmus]

I saw that ask meme with questions for gif makers going around, but I felt like answering them all on my own lmao

1. What are your top 3 favorite sets you’ve made

This one, this one (if the timing works lmao), and this one (I’m so proud of my AU gifsets... where did all that creativity go??)

2. What is your least favorite set you’ve made

I honestly don’t know... I don’t think I hate anything I’ve posted though. If I don’t like how it’s turning out, I just won’t post it lol

3. Which of your sets has the most notes

The most notes ever is this one I think

4. A set that flopped but deserved better

I don’t know... there’s a bunch, but I’m fine if a gifset flops

5. What is your favorite movie/TV show to gif

DOCTOR WHO

6. What is your least favorite movie/TV show to gif

I really don’t gif anything else lmao...

7. Who are your top 3 gif makers

I’ll just pick 3 people off the top of my head :) @shatner​, @melodyspond​, @stupidape​

8. What gif trend do you hate

The pale/black and white gifs that are so hard to see.......

9. What/who inspired you to start making gifs

I wanted to gif my favourite parts of DW that I didn’t see anyone else doing, so I was like alrighty, time to learn how to do this!! I think the people that inspired me are long gone from tumblr, or I’m no longer following them because they’ve moved blogs (Natasha aka lumos-maxima... wherever you are, I MISS YOU... also Courtney aka needlebug I MISS YOU TOO)

10. What was the first gif you ever posted

THIS ONE! I remember being so happy about posting it, haha. Also, I still love that Confidential episode so much. I miss my space hipsters...

11. What is that one set you made that just won’t die

The Zoboomafoo one

12. What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever giffed

Everything I’ve ever posted

13. Where or from whom did you learn how to gif

Various tutorials on here and just by experimenting. I don’t even think I used Photoshop to begin with, since back in my Neopets days I used Paint Shop Pro to make graphics so I think that’s what I used first to try making gifs of videos.

14. How long does it usually take you to make a set

45 minutes to an hour or so?? It’s been taking longer and longer because the screencaps are so huge though and my poor laptop can’t handle it.

15. Have you ever had gifs stolen and reposted

Yes, and don’t think that I can’t tell when those are my gifs, even without a watermark!!

16. How long have you been making gifs

Since 2011...... my god

17. 10 sets, 8 sets, 6 sets? How many gifs to you prefer in a set

As many as it takes!!!!! But usually between 6-8

18. For the aesthetic, for the laughs, or for the feels what your preference

For FUN!

19. What is your gifting process like

Open video, find scene, screencap, load screencaps in Photoshop, resize to gif dimensions, add colouring, curse myself for picking a hard-to-colour scene, continue adjusting colouring and become increasingly frustrated because it’s not turning out the way I want it to, give up, add text, save gif, POST!

20. Mac or PC

PC

21. PSDs or original coloring for each gif

Original colouring. PSD who???

22. What fandom/movie/show/person etc do you gif the most

DOCTOR WHO and more specifically, David Tennant... I think his tag has the most :’)

23. What is the thing you gif when you don’t have anything else you want to gif

Any episode with Ten and Donna, or The Eleventh Hour, or the Day of the Doctor, or Blink

24. 480p 720p 1080p? What is the minimum quality you’ll gif from

I used to be all good with giffing 480p back in the day, but I guess now it’s 720p since the gif limits have gone way up.

25. Old dimensions or new dimensions and why

New dimensions because they look nicer on the dashboard.

26. How many un posted sets are in your drafts right now

ZERO.

27. Have you ever made a set, decided you hated it and deleted it? What was it

Probably at least one or twice, but I don’t remember.

28. Have you ever posted a set, regretted it and immediately deleted it

No, I don’t think so. I’m leaving my mistakes there for all to see!

29. Have you ever posted a set, realized you made a mistake later but it was already too late

Yes, I did this just the other day with that Missy, Bill and Nardole set. I got the dialogue slightly wrong lmao..... shh

30. How frequently do you like to post

I try to do at least one gifset a day if I can!

31. Do you schedule/queue posts or do you post right after you’re done

Right away. These gifsets are fresh off the grill.

32. What is your favorite tool/adjustment layer in Photoshop

Selective Color or Color Balance

33. Do you like to/can you make edits and graphics too or only gifs

Yes, I can do both but gifs are way more fun imo

34. A set that took you a long time/was really hard but you’re really proud of how it came out

I’m gonna say this one again because I was so proud of it when I made it, and I can’t believe I used to put that much effort into my gifs.

35. Do you change your giffing style a lot or do you have a set routine

I have a routine, as described above. My gifs are pretty much all made the same way as I describe in my colouring tutorial too.

36. Do you gif with something specific in mind or do you just wing it

Usually a mixture of both. I like to try to gif a different Doctor each day, so I’ll know who I have in mind but I’m not planning on a specific episode. I’ll just open up one of their series and go from there!

37. What sets if any do you have planned to make in the future

Idk, I was thinking of doing yet another gifset with Donna in it since I just finished her Big Finish series... but maybe I’ll do one with Eleven and the Ponds??? We’ll see.

38. What are you really excited to gif that isn’t out yet

The next Doctor Who holiday special?? :D

39. How often, if ever, do you delete old sets that you don’t like anymore

Never!! I love seeing how my gifs have slowly changed and improved over time.

40. Why do you make gifs

Because it’s fun, and it’s a way for me to relax after a long and busy day at work.

41. What is your least favorite part about your gif making process

When it takes forever for my screencaps to load, and when it takes forever for my gifs to save sometimes

42. How is your gif folder organized? Is it organized at all?

Lol nope.

43. Do you keep videos forever or delete them once you’re done giffing

I keep the episodes forever, but honestly I think I keep everything forever because I forget about getting rid of the other stuff like trailers and interviews... I should go through my downloads folder.

44. Ever had a gif become a meme? Would you like that if you haven't

I’ve had people use my gifs as reaction gifs and it is a weird feeling, especially seeing the gifs being used on websites other than tumblr. I remember seeing one of my gifs used in someone’s book review on Goodreads and I was like “WAIT THAT LOOKS FAMILIAR!!”

45. Ever gotten hate over a set

Not really hate, but I do get a lot people that are like “WHERE IS ______?” in their tags. And sometimes I just want to be like “Make your own gifs if you think they should be there!!!”

46. Ever gotten a really sweet compliment over a set

Yes :’)

47. Any advice for novice gif makers/people who want to start making gifs

Don’t give up!! Make gifs of whatever makes you happy, don’t worry about the notes too much, and use your tags! KEEP PRACTICING!

48. How would you describe your giffing style

I don’t know??? If someone else has a way to describe my style, then please let me know haha

49. How much would you say you’ve improved since you first started giffing

It’s been almost 9 years since I’ve started, so I hope I’ve improved quite a bit! :P

Well, that was fun. Congrats on making it to the end of this post!!! Now I will go make a gifset.

[capybaraonabicycle]

Hiya! For the writers truth & dare ask game, I'd love to know about..

🕯️On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? Why is that?

🍄Share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

❄️What's a dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? (also, which character would be involved)

🌿Give some advice on writer's block and low creativity (or energy⚡if you like)

🏜️What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

🌸Do you have any pets? If you do, post some pictures of them

I'm btw planning on reading more Righting Reflex in the evening, I just really need to get at least one and a half more tasks done today for my portfolio. Sending you much love 💚🦎

Thank you, love!! This is way too long, so I will put it under a 'read more'

🕯️On a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? Why is that?

Maybe a 3? Like, I don't hate it but I'm not too fond of it either. I enjoy reading what I have written more often than not and I like putting [GERMAN WORD] or [TBD - WRITE SMTH ABOUT XY] ever so often while writing, but I don't enjoy changing the story afterwards much. I rarely change big things, usually only a scene or two and a few expressions. That said, I have to read every scene like 15 times before posting to scour for errors - and I am certain I am missing so many anyway.

🍄Share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Okay, let's go with fugitive Doctor/River. (Did you expect this by any chance? ;) )

You know this bit:

source

[ID: two gifs from The Husbands of River Song of River saying "Do you know who you remind me of? My second wife!". end ID]

People have been speculating that she is talking about 13, which I get, definitely. But I want to argue that it is the superior interpretation that she would be talking about the fugitive Doctor (or another incarnation the Doctor has forgotten about but where would be the fun in that?). For the following reasons:

Vibes. This is the important point. River says 12 reminds her of the wife, so they have to be alike-ish. And I feel like 12 and the fugitive Doctor have a certain similarity in their demeanour. I think a big thing is how they hold themselves upright, actually, but also the whole Danny calling 12 an officer when the fugitive Doctor actually is one. Also the underlying kindness both of them possess and the end-life-crisis. They both lose all of their companions (Clara, Bill and Nardole vs Karvanista, Gat and Lee - one lives on but they can never see them again/forget about them, the other two die (or that's what they believe at least) and it is their fault) and I would argue they both are thinking about not regenerating this time. (I reckon the fugitive Doctor does not have a choice though.)

Loss. See the last point. The Doctor loses everything in fotj. Give her her wife, at least, please. Let River bring her some love and companionship <3 13 loses a lot as well but she's got Yaz. Which also leads us to:

Thasmin. Like, you know, if River had been tangibly in the 13th Doctor's life in any way, thasmin would have kissed. 100%. They didn't, so River didn't marry 13, simple as that.

Timelines. River does not know about more faces of the Doctor and well, 13 is older than 12. Of course, she could lie to her and yes, River gets married a little carelessly, so she might have married some John Smith!13. But if she met the fugitive Doctor - who seems very different from the timelord she knows and has no recollection of the Doctor's life, it would be easy for her to draw the conclusion that the Doctor is just some other person going by that name. And the fugitive Doctor would forget about her, of course. There's also a good possibility, River isn't actually married to the Doctor but to Ruth.

Time, Doctor's side. Honestly, 13 just doesn't have enough time to get married to River. Am I still hoping we will get those two on screen (or audio) together? Of course! But 13 is kinda busy, most of the time we either see her with the fam (who don't know River, see lotsd) or very occupied with stuff (like apocalypses or prison).

So, yeah, headcanon: The fugitive Doctor is River's second wife.

(The first is Cleopatra, right? Like Idk if there is canon confirmation but it feels true.)

❄️What's a dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? (also, which character would be involved)

Okay, when I read this question, I thought I wouldn't have any idea. But I have. Several. Lets start. Fics I would will into existence if I could:

Full-length Little VVomen.

I know we won't get the movie, but I'll gladly take it as a novel fic. Just for an explanation: Little VVomen is a parody trailer for a crossover of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and the horror movie VVitch (I assume, I don't actually know VVitch). And it is glorious. Just -

- If it's about a girl, make sure she's married by the end. - Does it have to be to a man?

lives in my head rent free. I want a full story of Jo March saying gay rights, writing spells and sacrificing innocent men, pretty please <3 And I really, really want to know what's up with the Sean!devil.

This is the trailer btw:

Anyone write this please? (If I could choose, I'd ask Sean and Sinead who wrote the trailer, but I fear, I am already stretching the definition of fic here and using the authors of the og trailer probably defeats the purpose of this question.)

2. Strax fairytale!! written by you :)

Strax as a fairytale protagonist is SUCH an inspired idea and I am hoping very much that you will get round to it some day. But I can't really tell you anything about that that you don't know better yourself.

Or, maybe, I can: I have become kinda enarmoured with the 'Strax as the faithful Johannes' idea, I have always adored that tale, mainly for the tragedy and extremely strong friendship theme. Like, it is so clear that the king's most important relationship is his friendship to his servant. The princess is lovely but they barely know each other, yet. And I think there is SO much potential to improve the abduction scene and the ending. So, yeah, I have been turning that around in my head a bit.

But no matter which tale you will pick, if you ever write a fic for him, I am sure I will absolutely love it!

(also, like, I could mention any of the fairytale ideas you have told me about, here)

3. Heather is an integral part of s10 by @marvellouspinecone

You remember that genius powerpoint Pine made, I assume? Wouldn't it be spectacular if someone wrote that as a fic for me to read? I would choose Pine as the author because she understands the vision best, of course. But, like, I am so grateful already that the powerpoint exists for me to read and dream about :)

(Hi, Pine, not sure you want to read the whole post, but you might see the tag. This is not a request, please don't understand it as such, because that would be incredibly impudent on my part. This is just fancy ideas of mine and a praise to your vision <3)

4. Tenteen is played by Jo Martin by DiscipleOfBrad

So, I actually enjoyed the 60th anniversary (at least wild blue yonder, that much very much had a premise of my type of dw ep) but I still believe we could have done better than bringing back dt for the umpteenth time. (Listen, he is lovely, don't get me wrong, and I liked '14' too, but just - )

I have written a post about why I think making the fugitive Doctor's face return would have been a more interesting choice and I would still love to read it as a fic.

I don't really care whether it would be a simple retelling of the three eps with her instead of tenteen or a completely different tale. I WOULD like to see Donna though (because can you imagine?? Also that scene where Donna just acts like she knows the Doctor all of a sudden? When the Doctor doesn't even really know herself but feels like she should?) and if we could spring for some Karvanista on top, that'd be ace <3

I would give this one to DiscipleOfBrad because I trust them to write a convincing fugitive Doctor. I really enjoyed her in The Cul-de-Sac (which btw I can highly recommend if you'd like some soft thasmin and an intriguing premise. There is a heavy side of whouffaldi, though, I'm not sure whether that is your thing?).

🌿Give some advice on writer's block and low creativity (or energy⚡if you like)

I feel like it always helps me to get myself into a 'I can't do anything else now anyway' situation? That's why trainrides are so good for writing. I just need to be in a situation where I can't take care of more pressing matters, so it won't feel overwhelming if I don't take care of them?

Like, I will rather scroll tumblr than work on my thesis but I won't write. But if I am away from wifi, I might not be able to work on the thesis anyway, so I will easier find the peace of mind (and hence energy and creativity) to write?

Idk maybe that's just me. Maybe it's not working at all either. Honestly, I don't quite know where energy, creativity or motivation to write come from. They just knock and then they're there.

🏜️What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Well, obviously, I adore long comments, who doesn't? But just saying 'long' feels both greedy and like cheating, so let's talk content.

I think, what excites me most in a comment is when I can sense the enthousiasm? It doesn't necessarily have to be for the content of my fic, I had someone write 'YOU MADE A CROSSOVER FOR THESE TWO FANDOMS?? THEY'RE MY FAVOURITE!!" and it made me smile for a day. Just, I write those things because I love the characters and themes and if someone shows that they share this passion? That's community, that's what we're searching for, isn't it?

But also I got a comment today that was just a bunch of predictions about the next chapter of my current fic and that felt amazing! Generally, when people notice things or I feel they have been paying attention, that is SO GOOD. That's probably also why we love long comments. I mean, generally, every second you spend reading the comment is gold, so the longer the comment the more seconds there are, but also a long comment will usually go into detail. Make predictions. Notice things. Talk about how they perceive the characters and why something made sense/surprised them. Quote your fic back to you. And like, all of that is so much fun. It's like reading your story again, remembering why you wrote it. It's the best feeling in the world.

I very dearly love comments.

🌸Do you have any pets? If you do, post some pictures of them

I don't 😭 The place where I live doesn't allow pets and besides, I am away a lot and not planning on staying in this town much longer anyway. So, yeah, it'd be difficult to have a pet. I really, really want to though. Preferably a cat but I'd be so happy with a dog as well. Or a turtle? Or bunny? Or a lizard? I think you could make me happy with almost any mammal and many types of reptiles <3 (not much into insects or fish though. And I feel weird about birds in cages.)

[doctornolonger]

I’ve always thought that the natural endpoint of the Doctor/Master relationship is for the Master to repent and take up the Doctor’s name and promise, and it’s kinda frustrating to me how close we got to that in series 10. Here’s the outline of the fanfic I’ll never write: my dream continuation of the Moffat era.

The Monk trilogy ends differently, so Missy’s redemption arc is accelerated and by the finale Missy is much more solidly on Team Good. In the finale and Christmas special, Capaldi gets his wish to go back and meet Susan, with some flashbacks to David Bradley’s First Doctor but without any Simm Master. The adventure goes wrong, and the Twelfth Doctor’s uncertainty about his new regeneration cycle comes back to bite him: he’s apparently out, defeated in part by his own generosity to Davros in the series 9 opener.

But as we saw in Extremis, anyone who makes the Doctor’s promise can be the Doctor. As Twelve dies in Missy’s arms, she promises her oldest friend that she’ll continue his mission throughout space and time.

Except this time, she will have witness and reward: Bill and Nardole are staying in the TARDIS. In a dark mirror of the Twelfth Doctor’s arc from series 8, the brusque Gomez Doctor spends series 11 in a struggle with her insecurities about whether she can be good. Meanwhile, Bill and Nardole undergo a significantly harsher version of the “Can we trust this person like we used to?” conflict we saw with Rose and Clara. (This is balanced out by the TARDIS’ immediate acceptance of Missy as her new pilot.) Over the course of the series, the companions guide Missy in the right direction until she’s in the groove of being the Doctor rather than the Master.

This series 11 ends with the Simm Master’s return in a twisted version of World Enough and Time. The spotlight is on how this tests Missy’s resolve, but she ultimately chooses to do the right thing, sacrificing herself for the others even as she’s killed by her past self. Bill still gets her happy ending with Heather, but not before finally calling Missy “the Doctor”. (The Graham/Ryan granddad dynamic on amphetamines.)

Series 12 is a soft reboot like series 5 or the real series 11. The new incarnation finds new companions, goes solely by “the Doctor”, and nails the role and responsibilities that entails. For all intents and purposes, this is just another incarnation of that original Time Lord we watched for fifty years, although there might be some references to their criminal past. This can last for as many series as wanted or needed, maybe even across multiple new incarnations. Let’s just say we pick up again with series 16.

Series 16 starts with an awkward multi-Doctor Christmas special, in which the Doctor is forced to explain their past to their companions. This is the first time the Master backstory has been explicitly spelled out since back in series 11. As the series begins, we see a return to the cavalier having-fun-with-history attitude 10 and Rose exhibited in episodes like Tooth and Claw. Mostly It’s just Doctor Who as usual. But it becomes apparent that this Doctor is making … mistakes.

Throughout our real-world 2018, the audience has shown itself to be very aware of the Doctor’s ethical choices. How many posts have I seen about the Thirteenth Doctor’s apparent inconsistency in demanding the spiders starve to death rather than receiving a mercy-killing? In condemning T’zim-Sha to years of torture at the same time she admonishes against killing? In upholding the broken system in Kerblam? And it’s not like this is just a Chibnall thing, as some have supposed: just look at the years-long discourse over whether Eleven was justified to order the genocide of the Silence in Day of the Moon. This was an explicit point in A Town Called Mercy.

My series 16 would play with this dynamic. There are a consistent number of instances where the Doctor just makes the wrong choice, whether it’s insisting on unnecessary cruelty or suffering, or solving a superficial issue but apparently intentionally shrugging at systemic problems. Several episodes would span a serialized story exploring multiple interconnected plotlines in one non-Earth setting – maybe an alien companion’s homeworld? – and this ends in the Doctor making a miscalculated ends-justifies-the-means style decision that results in more harm than good. The series concludes with the companion(s) rejecting the Doctor and quitting the TARDIS a la Clara in Kill the Moon or Ace in Love and War.

Which brings us to series 17, the last of my arc. The Doctor evidently has been traveling alone for a while and learned nothing from the rebuke at the end of S16. While adventuring with a new companion, however, a mysterious figure seems to be sabotaging the Doctor’s questionable plans – but sabotaging them for the better, to do more good or avoid negative consequences. Sure the midseries finale, we discover that the Twelfth Doctor did regenerate all those series ago, and this Thirteenth Doctor is coming out of retirement to stop the Master from doing further harm. (This vaguely resembles Lawrence Miles’ original plans for the character of Sabbath.)

The two old friends, now mentor and mentee, spend the rest of the series in a struggle that ends with ??? the Master eschewing good intentions and returning to being the Doctor’s enemy? the two making peace and parting ways? the Master dying? one of the two retiring and forgetting about this whole arc? the two re-combining into the Other? The answer would probably depend on the fan and critical reaction to the big switch-up. I might just pick that moment to leave it to another showrunner. But the idea has potential, dammit!

[singledarkshade]

Another New Life

Part Two

The Doctor was worried.

Rory had barely left the TARDIS in the week since he arrived. The furthest he went was the office where he would drink some tea with the Doctor before he would retreat back to the safety of the blue box.

The Doctor understood that the other man had been lost, alone and forced to become the Last Centurion again which was something Rory hated so he was doing his best to protect himself.

Bill kept trying to persuade him to come to the lectures with them. Rory would politely decline before he would disappear into the TARDIS somewhere.

However he didn’t go to the Medical Bay, the place he had always spent his free time. The Doctor was sure that Rory was spending most of his time in the Library but the TARDIS was being very protective of what he was doing.

The TARDIS was also being annoyingly secretive with Rory’s medical history only letting Nardole know he was healthy and wouldn’t even answer the Doctor’s questions concerning the other man.

Finally it was time to step in and get the other man back into the world but he knew there was no point in going to Rory directly – that never worked.

Instead he decided to be sneaky about it.

Rory sat in the corner of the library he’d found on his first day back in the TARDIS with one of the larger tomes on the history of a planet called Metadorn. He’d been reading whatever he could get his hands on each day just to give himself something to focus on. He was aware of the looks of concern he was getting from the Doctor but in all honesty he didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

The good thing about this new version of the Doctor was that he had made a promise to remain on Earth, so Rory didn’t have to worry about finding himself on some random planet running for this life, which was why it was such a surprise when he heard the TARDIS engines start up.

Jumping out of his chair Rory ran up to the control room finding the Doctor talking away with Bill on one side and Nardole on the other.

“Where are we going?” Rory demanded.

The Doctor spun, “There you are. I am showing Bill the Caves of Draval, you remember them. I was discussing the effects of the sunset on certain types of crystal so I thought she would like to see it in person.”

“I thought you couldn’t leave Earth because of your promise,” Rory stated folding his arms defensively across his chest.

The Doctor grinned at him, “But this is a time machine, Rory,” he bounced around, “I’m sure you remember that. We’ll be back moments after we left.”

“And you said the TARDIS wouldn’t move from that spot,” Rory argued.

“For that night,” the Doctor replied, “I can’t leave her there forever, she gets bored. No one said you had to come with us, you can keep hiding in here like you have been for the past week.”

Rory stiffened, “I’m not hiding.”

“Then what are you doing, Rory?” the Doctor demanded, “Because it looks a lot like hiding to me.”

Anger filled Rory, he saw Bill and Nardole watching before he turned and walked away heading back into the depths of the TARDIS.

“Right, let’s go have a look and leave him to sulk,” he heard the Doctor say before the door closed.

  The Doctor ignored Bill and Nardole as they tried to talk to him about Rory while he led them to the caves. His plan to force the other man out of his self-imposed isolation was just beginning and he didn’t want them interfering. He knew Rory, he knew how far he could push but if they intervened it would get messy.

There were two versions of Rory, two versions which sometimes warred with one another and that was what made Rory extremely dangerous in many ways. If you got Nurse Williams then it wasn’t a problem but the Last Centurion that was a different matter altogether.

It was going to take a delicate balance to pull him back to the world and hopefully get some idea on why he hadn’t died with his beloved Amy.

“Come on you two,” he called to his current companions, “Let’s go.”

As they continued to the caves the Doctor mused on his problem.

  Rory sat in the library his entire body stiff as he fumed.

He should have known not to trust what the Doctor said, should have known it was a lie, should have known...

Rory looked up when the lights dimmed around him slightly, “Fine. I will keep watch over them from the control room. Happy?”

The lights returned to full strength and he sighed. Standing up he headed to the control room, completely different to the one he had known so well during their travels. Despite the change in the room Rory still knew how to work the basic controls so managed to put the view screen on to keep an eye on the Doctor, Nardole and Bill.

Rory folded his arms across his chest again. It had become a familiar stance for him recently which a small voice inside him pointed out was his way to keep the world away from him now.

He continued to observe the other three as they stood at the caves and watched the sunset before they walked back to the TARDIS. Once they were back inside he turned to go but didn’t miss the nod from the Doctor before he left the room once more.

                          ********************************************

  “Why won’t you tell me what I need to know?” the Doctor demanded of the TARDIS a week later, “I am trying to help him.”

He let out a long sigh as the TARDIS refused to give any information on the other man’s medical history other than Rory Williams, healthy.

The one good thing was that Rory had left the safety of the TARDIS a little more in the past few days. He walked to the shops and back yesterday which took over two hours, a current record.

Honestly the Doctor was beginning to get a little worried by the time he returned. Rory simply handed him a bar of Dairy Milk when he passed the Doctor at his desk before he disappeared back into the TARDIS.

“Okay,” the Doctor shouted at the control room, “If you don’t want to tell me I will speak with the source.”

With an annoyed sigh he marched through the TARDIS finding Rory in the library as usual, he still hadn’t gone anywhere near the medical bay since the day he’d woken up in it. Pulling a chair over the Doctor took a seat so he was face to face with the other man. Bemused at the sudden presence Rory slowly lowered the book he was reading.

“I’m trying to get the TARDIS to give me information on your medical history,” the Doctor stated before Rory can speak, “But she won’t give me anything.”

“That’s odd,” Rory said softly.

The Doctor nodded, “She has never refused to give me information before so I am beginning to get concerned.”

Rory frowned, a little bemused where this was going.

“I need you to tell me about your family history,” the Doctor said, “It will give me somewhere to start.”

Rory winced, “It won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m adopted,” Rory told him with a shrug.

  Rory watched the Doctor’s reaction to the fact he was adopted and there was confusion as well as annoyance in the face Rory was still not quite used to.

“Why do I not know this?” the Doctor demanded, “You and Amy used to give me far too much information on everything and I mean everything.”

Rory shrugged, “Because my mum and dad were my mum and dad. I never thought of them as anything else, even when I found out they’d adopted me. They wanted me while whoever actually gave birth to me didn’t, so why should I care about them?”

“Okay,” the Doctor mused, “I concede on that point but now, considering the fact you’re still alive after dying, we need to know who they were.”

Rory grimaced but understood, “The thing is I don’t know anything. I was found in the church not even a day old. It was my mum who found me,” he let out a soft laugh of remembrance, “She used to call me her gift from God. The child she’d never been able to have naturally.”

Slightly embarrassed he wiped a tear from his eye, “As far as I know there is absolutely no information on my real parents.”

“Then we go back and see who leaves you at the church.”

                          *********************************************

  Leadworth Church was a white stone building in the centre of a well-maintained garden. It was warm and inviting to the people of the village. The blue box which appeared in one corner of the grounds settled for barely a second before two men walked out of it.

“Nardole wasn’t happy that we were leaving,” Rory noted as they headed to the church.

The Doctor waved his hand, “He spends his life not happy at me.”

“And I bet you enjoy pushing those buttons,” Rory chuckled.

An innocent look covered the Time Lord’s face, “I have no idea what you mean.”

Rory rolled his eyes but continued into the church feeling the cool air surround him. He had always liked this building.

It wasn’t just that this was where his mother found him and took him in but there was something about the church that was peaceful which had been a counterpoint to his life. To the childhood friends who were loud and bright and exhausting.

A woman was standing at the other end of the aisle fixing flowers and Rory stopped.

“Rory?” the Doctor asked.

Several deep breaths later Rory managed to whisper, “My Mum.”

The Doctor caught Rory’s shoulder and moved them into the corner, “I know you want to talk to her but you can’t. We can’t do anything that might stop her finding you...little you...”

“I get it,” Rory stopped the other man.

They stood hidden in the corner, Rory letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when his Mum disappeared into another part of the building. Finally the main doors opened and a woman appeared carrying a baby in car seat.

Rory rested his hand against the wall using it to keep steady, he knew he was here to find out where he had come from but for some reason wasn’t prepared for it.

The Doctor absently patted his arm as he watched the woman before gripping Rory’s arm tightly.

“What?” Rory demanded.

The Doctor turned to him astonishment written over his face, “Sarah-Jane?”

  Sarah-Jane Smith checked the note she had ensuring she was at the right place. The baby she was carrying began to fuss slightly and she gently hushed him stroking his soft cheek. He’d been her companion for only a few hours and she was going to miss the little one.

“But you’re getting a family,” she murmured to him, “Something I can’t give you.”

Pushing open the doors to the church she smiled at the scent of fresh flowers filling the air, walking further in she looked for the small alcove she was to leave the baby in so he would be found by his new family.

“Sarah-Jane Smith,” a voice made her turn to where two men were standing watching her.

One was young with light brown hair he was quite handsome with a Romanesque nose, the other older one with the maddest eyebrows she’d seen he was staring at her in a familiar way.

“Doctor?” she asked softly stunned to see him again.

“This isn’t right,” he murmured moving towards her, “Because I don’t see you again until you’re...”

“Older?” Sarah-Jane noted blandly.

He shrugged and it was so Doctor-like there was now no doubt.

“Can I interrupt?” the other man asked, “Doctor, remember why we’re here?”

The Doctor turned, “Good point, Rory. Sarah, where did you get the baby?”

Confusion filled her and she offered him the note, “I thought from you.”

The Doctor took the note and studied it intently before handing it to the man called Rory. At that moment the baby began to fuss again and the younger man automatically started forward.

“Do not touch that baby, Rory,” the Doctor ordered sharply.

Sarah-Jane looked at him confused for a second but she shook her head and concentrated on the child she had been charged with protecting.

“Doctor,” Rory said softly.

The Doctor nodded, “Sarah, put the baby where you’ve been told then come with us.”

Nodding she took the little boy and placed him in the small alcove, whispering that he would be safe. Turning to leave him she saw the Doctor motion her over to where he and Rory were hiding.

She reached the hiding spot just as the door near the altar opened. Sarah-Jane watched the woman with long blonde hair walk out with flowers in her arms who stopped hearing the baby cry and the three of them watched as the woman lifted the baby into her arms.

  Rory felt tears fill his eyes watching his Mum lift the baby version of him into her arms and hold him close. After a moment he turned away, the grief of losing her hitting him once more. A hand rested on his arm and he found the woman who had brought the baby to the church standing there. Without a word she wrapped her arms around him and held him comfortingly, one hand resting on his head, the other rubbing circles on his back.

After a few minutes Rory pulled away and wiped his eyes, “Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” Sarah-Jane told him, “Now, since the baby is where he is meant to be how about someone explains to me what exactly is going on.”

The Doctor nodded, “Let’s get to the TARDIS.”

Rory felt the Doctor move him from his spot and out of the church. They walked in silence through the gardens and inside the TARDIS once more where Sarah-Jane gave a soft gasp.

“You changed it,” she noted.

The Doctor shrugged, “A few times now.”

“Okay,” Rory interrupted before anything else could be said, “Where did the baby come from? You said you thought it was the Doctor so tell us everything.”

“Rory,” the Doctor chided softly, “Calm.”

His hand twitching to find the sword that wasn’t there Rory turned on the Time Lord, “I want to know where I come from. You started this so we are going to find out the answers.”

The Doctor caught Rory’s face in his hands, “I will but I need Nurse Rory, calm and cool under pressure not Centurion Rory who will stab his way through things.”

Shaking slightly Rory pulled back, “Sorry.”

Sarah-Jane reached out and squeezed his arm comfortingly, “It’s okay. So, Doctor what’s going on?”

  The Doctor quickly explained to his former companion what was happening while Rory sat to one side. It suddenly occurred to the Doctor how little he knew about Rory’s family. He knew all about Amy’s but whenever it came to a discussion on families, even after meeting Brian Williams, Rory always remained silent.

The information that his mum liked Dusty Springfield had went over his head at the time mostly because he had other concerns but thinking about it, until this moment, it was all the information he had on Rory’s mother.

“So where did you get the baby from?” the Doctor turned to Sarah-Jane.

She gave a small shrug, “I was working when I heard the TARDIS. I opened the front door to the cottage and there was the baby asleep in the seat with a note asking me to bring him here at this time.”

“Why did you follow the instructions?” Rory asked.

“Because I was sure it was the Doctor who left the child,” Sarah-Jane explained.

The Doctor let out a long hum of thought.

“What?” Rory demanded.

The Doctor turned and handed the note to Rory again, “I wrote it.”

“Of course you did,” Rory snapped getting annoyed again before stopping, “Wait, what does that mean?”

“It means that sometime in the future I find you,” the Doctor told him.

Snatching the note back the Doctor opened a panel on the TARDIS console and placed the letter in it.

“What are you doing?” Rory and Sarah-Jane asked in unison.

“Checking for hidden messages,” the Doctor replied as he bounced about hitting switches, “Because if I sent it then I need to be able to send it so there has to be information to let me.”

Rory turned to Sarah-Jane, “This is why I spend most of my time with a headache.”

“I remember the feeling,” she replied with a slight smile.

Before the Doctor could retort the TARDIS beeped making all turn, “I have co-ordinates.”

“And I have to leave,” Sarah-Jane told them.

“Why?” Rory asked.

She smiled up at him, “Because I can tell I shouldn’t be here.”

The Doctor beamed at her, “My brilliant Sarah-Jane. I will see you again and you will be amazing the way you always are.”

She gave him another smile before wrapping her arms around the Doctor, “Take care of him, Doctor. I can see how lost he is.”

“I’m doing my best,” the Doctor murmured in her ear, “Just look after yourself.”

When they parted Sarah-Jane turned to Rory and hugged him as well before she walked out the TARDIS without looking back.

                          *********************************************

Author’s Note: This does completely ignore the facts given in Dinosaurs On A Spaceship regarding Rory and his Dad but let’s just not mention that.

 Part Three - Final Part

[the-desolated-quill]

Extremis - Doctor Who blog

(SPOILER WARNING: The following is an in-depth critical analysis. If you haven’t seen this episode yet, you may want to before reading this review)

I seriously can’t make up my mind as to whether or not I actually liked this episode. Extremis is certainly very different from previous Who stories and there are some interesting concepts and ideas buried within. I could imagine a talented writer creating something really special with these ideas.

...

Take a random guess who wrote this one.

Okay. Credit where it’s due. This is not the worst thing Moffat has ever written. Hell, in terms of quality, Extremis is several leagues above shit like The Husbands Of River Song or Hell Bent. I suppose the fact that I’m not instantly dismissing this episode like I’ve done with previous Moffat stories shows that things are improving somewhat, right?

Let’s start with the obvious. Guess who’s in the Vault:

Oh yeah! Fucking called it!

Obviously this didn’t come as much of a shock. Like with all of Moffat’s series arcs, the list of suspects was pathetically small. Really, who else could it have been? I was more shocked by how blasé the reveal was. There was none of the usual melodramatic theatricality that comes with these sorts of reveals. It was basically just a ‘oh by the way, the Master is in the Vault. Just so you know.’ Makes me wonder why Moffat even bothered making it a mystery in the first place? Why not just be upfront about it from the get go if it’s not that big of a deal?

So yeah. The execution stuff. It had all the usual Moffat bollocks. The Doctor using the power of plot convenience to get out of a situation, using his reputation to scare off the opposition and thus completely removing any and all tension or excitement from the proceedings, Nardole being an unfunny killjoy, and River Song chastising the Doctor (this time from beyond the grave) for being a very bad man because he wants to kill the Master even though the chances of the Doctor actually going through with it are extremely slim and even though River Song has more blood on her hands than he does. Hypocritical much, sweetie? On the whole, I wasn’t particularly fond of any of that. But what saved it for me, surprisingly, was the Master. The annoying crazy schtick has been stripped away completely here as we see the Master at her most vulnerable, pleading for her life. Michelle Gomez knocks it out of the park completely and I did actually find myself feeling sorry for her.

Oh, not that I’m convinced any of this will stick. I know Moffat’s bullshit all too well. All this crap about the Master wanting to turn over a new leaf I’m sure will be conveniently reversed at some point. Same goes for the Doctor’s blindness. It’s a bit hard to feel any sort of emotional investment towards the Doctor’s current condition when you can practically see Moffat’s hand hovering over the reset button at all times (and why is the Doctor trying to keep it a secret from Bill? How bloody stupid is that?).

Now let’s get into the story good and proper. There’s this book called the Veritas, which contains a terrible secret and anyone who learns this secret commits suicide immediately afterwards. Okay. As premises go, that’s a bloody good one. Already I’m intrigued. We’ve also got some genuinely creepy monsters. The Monks. They certainly look cool and the voices are chilling. It seems like they’re going to be the main recurring villains this series, and yeah I wouldn’t mind seeing them again. I’d certainly like to learn more about them. Hopefully they won’t outstay their welcome like the Silence and Weeping Angels did.

So yeah. it’s a good setup that draws you in. However it’s when the action shifts to the Vatican’s secret library where everything starts to wobble and fall apart. So the Veritas reveals the truth. That this isn’t the real world and that this is a computer simulation. Quick question. How long has this simulation been running for? If it’s in real time, how did the ancient scholars figure out they were in a computer simulation? If it’s not, why did the Monks put the Veritas into the simulation in the first place?

This then leads to further questions. Why would finding out you’re in a simulation make you want to kill yourself? Why did that priest wait four hours to kill himself after he sent the email to CERN? Why do the CERN guys think they’re saving the world by blowing themselves up? How does that work? And the most important question of all, why would the Monks create simulants smart enough and self aware enough to work out their true nature? Why put the Veritas in the simulation? Why give them access to all those portals? It doesn’t make sense. The purpose of these simulations is for the Monks to test run how they’re going to take over the Earth. How does creating a simulation where the simulants realise they’re simulants do that? How does that benefit the Monks’ plans? It doesn’t make sense.

I can see how this could have worked. Have a story where the Doctor fails to save the Earth from alien invaders and possibly even die, only to then reveal that it was all a simulation and have the real invasion take place in a future episode, where the tension would come from wondering how the real Doctor will succeed where his computer generated self failed. That could have been very gripping and genuinely original. But unfortunately Moffat trips up thanks to one of his many flaws as a writer, His desperate desire to appear clever when in reality he’s a colossal idiot.

So the Veritas contains a shadow test, where any random number you think of is the same number everyone else is thinking of. The Doctor explains that if all computer generated people are part of the same programme, then they’ll all generate the exact same string of random numbers.

Now I’m not an expert on computers by any stretch of the imagination (I did all my A Level coursework on a typewriter), but from what little I remember from my IT GCSE, I can tell that’s prime bullshit. It’s true that computers aren't perfect random number generators, but they can do a hell of a lot better than that!

Then it just gets even weirder when Moffat starts bringing video games into the equation. Why video games? This simulation has nothing in common with a video game as far as I can see. And what’s all this crap about video game characters thinking they’re real? Moffat does know video game characters aren’t actually sentient, right? And finally, how is the fake Doctor able to email the simulation to the real Doctor at the end? He claims it’s something any computer or subroutine can do. Again, I’m not an expert on computers, but even I know that’s bollocks.

So is Extremis good or bad in the end? Well... I suppose I didn’t dislike it, but there are far too many plot holes and loose ends that I simply can’t overlook. On the whole it’s conceptually interesting, but poorly thought out. Points for trying though.

[tillthenexttimedoctor]

Identity, Agency and the Story of Bill Potts

In her first lines on the show, Bill Potts recounts her encountering a crush of hers. Charmingly, she narrates her life. Even as she tries to get around answering the question on her lecture attendance, she’s calling us to get to know her. Her version of subterfuge is presenting an anecdote that includes her job, her love life and a brief ramble about personal philosophies, before she has to admit that none of this relates to the issue at hand. Her face and hands take us on a journey, expressive, alive.

Bill sees the world with open eyes and feels with an open heart. Like so many of the Moffat era companions, she is full of stories. Full of anecdotes, of small, shy reveals, of movie recommendations, of other people’s histories, of tiny facts and complex explanations. Her logic, too, can be seen as fundamentally story-based. Genre-savvy as she is, Bill thinks in the leaps and bounds of sci fi tales - from lizards in brains and mind wipes to jumping straight to the TARDIS-induced telepathy as an explanation for the translation she is witnessing.

It’s not that her life resembles a fairy tale or that she aspires to be its heroine. Her universe is what is is. It can be unkind, unyielding. But Bill is also willing to see a world that is stranger and more wonderful than you can imagine. She can take joy in simple things, like recognising the familiar smell of rosemary in a garden far, far away. And when given the opportunity, she is eager to experience life, eager to learn, eager to allow things in. With Bill , asking questions turns into more than a narrative tool. Instead, it becomes a beautiful building block of her characterisation. “Most people when they don't understand something, they frown. You smile.”

 Bill has a a remarkable talent for physics, unbelievably high essay grades included, and proves that she has a keen observational eye. In addition, she is quick to empathise with other people and to unravel their stories. Where others might only have seen Heather’s prickly exterior, her aloofness, her rudeness, Bill glimpses the sadness underneath. And even more surprisingly, she seeks it out, she tries for a sense of connection based on it. From just tiny fragments of conversation, she comes to understand the central problem of Heather’s existence - not an isolated instance for her.

We follow Bill’s journey of figuring out who the Doctor is, pondering police boxes and helplines. And struggles with the darker parts of him, the parts that are steeped in death, until the narrative fits. Eventually, she sees right through him. (”No time for outrage. You've never had time for anything else, right?”) Where the Doctor’s logic fails, Bill’s human perspective can offer missing puzzle pieces. It is she who realises the truth about the Landlord and explains that entering the portal is Kar’s and the remaining Ninth Legion’s destiny, not the Doctor’s.

 Even more importantly, Bill carries forward a strong sense of the details of her own identity. It’s in the way she dresses, in the bright clothes, stylish but always with a sense of originality, it’s in earrings and the bow in her hair. It’s the rainbow on her jacket. It’s the chips patch on her t-shirt. It’s being a black woman with an afro. It’s coming out to her house mate and Roman soldiers when they show interest in her. It’s coming out to her professor seconds into their first conversation, just because.

Finally, it’s filling the gaps of her past and present. Her mum in particular is a repeated feature of her imagination. Bill fantasises about conversations never had, wisdom that was never bestowed upon her (”My mum always said ‘with some people you can smell the wind in their clothes.’”). She proudly presents her new room to her, calls out to her when death seems all too near. Finally, Bill defeats the Monks with the uncorrupted image of her mother, a pure, personal myth to replace the twisted one that laid claim upon Earth.

When push comes to shove, this is what it comes down to, a first echo through time of the events which wait for her in the finale. She reveals the strength of her trust, the power of her dedication, that dooms her world as surely as she believes it can be saved. And counters it with a fortress around herself that is powerful enough to withstand the onslaught of any force. She narrates her own story, until it breaks through the violence and the lies. Hope and love and her identity prevail, even where it is impossible.

Nonetheless, there appears to be a notable void in the larger picture of Bill Potts. While who she is often gets painted in vibrant colours, the question of who she wants to be lingers on, unanswered. She does not flee from a future that scares her, she does not aspire to become a heroine. Instead, it fells like Bill has never  quite dared to tell a story about her own future, about what she wants to do, about who she wishes to be. “I always wanted to come here,” is a backstory detail, not a plan, not a fantasy. “Let me have some good dreams for once”, she begs the Doctor.

 Bill is someone who takes chances. The Pilot, in particular, is a story of unlikely, quiet bravery. After a brief moment of hesitation, Bill throws herself into being taught everything from poetry to physics, writing brilliant essay after brilliant essay. She follows the Doctor and Nardole, when they suspiciously sneak off into a cellar. She approaches Heather on a park bench and offers empathy instead of being rebuked by her prickly demeanour. Instead of the Doctor convincing the companion to travel with him, it is Bill who meaningfully glances at the police box in the corner and makes the Doctor reconsider.

And yet, Bill knows life can be painful. She even assumes it. The way Moira does not make an effort to truly see her - or even just acknowledge a sexual orientation Bill does not appear to make a secret of - never makes her react with more than mild exasperation. Bill shrugs off not getting Christmas presents. Even if she does not expect reciprocation, she treats the people around her with kindness and generosity. Small moments of vulnerability are when Bill seems the most real, whether its her sudden withdrawal from the conversation when the Doctor retorts “to serve chips” or the fleeting look on her face when the Doctor comments on her small amount of worldly possessions.

If Bill is not as confrontational as many other companions, it is largely because when it comes to herself, she rarely fights as much as she deserves to be fought for. She begs to keep her memories but still seems resigned to the inevitable. Bill interrogates the Doctor the subject matter of death, but it is only after he follows her, after he invites her to voice her anger. The conversation might revolve around morality, but it feels very personal. The Doctor might accuse Bill of having a temper, but her outburst as as much a sign of trust as it is one of the strong emotions she carries within.

 The events of World Enough and Time are designed to challenge every foundation of Bil’s character. Being shot and separated from her friends, spending years essentially locked in a dubious hospital after a dubious operation, would have been enough to shatter most people’s confidence, even with the Doctor’s voice whispering an instruction into her ear. Instead, she drinks the awful tea and cleans the floors, opens the occasional window and makes do. She has the patience, faith and resilience enough to wait.

Only when being reunited with the Doctor seems in arm’s reach do her question become more and more insistent, until the Master leads her into his trap. The result is even more brutal than what followed before - and it’s understandable that some might find it unnecessarily so - but what follows is all the more meaningful for it. The world would have always demanded of Bill to be someone else, as a lesbian, as a black woman. Here, it comes the closest it has ever come to succeeding. And fails, yet again.

Continuing to show Bill’s face in lieu of the mask Cyberman reinforces that point, over and over again. It is often said that the companion is the person through whose eyes we experience the events of the show, but that rarely has been as true as here. We observe Bill as she views herself, her eyes, her hands, her tears. She is keeping Cyberman conversion at bay, blocking out the terrifying things that happened to her. She asserts who she is with every second she is shown on screen, every frame. "A castle made of you, and you are standing on the battlements, saying no. No, not me.”

 Bill’s agency has been stripped from her bones, transformed, replaced. Even if her mind stood remained a fortress, standing strong inmidst of a war, there is little else that would encroach on her freedom to act, to be, in a similarly violent manner. In respose, the story does not merely return her ageny to her. Instead she is gifted with a future of infinite, supernatural potential. “It’s all just atoms, you can rearrange them any way you like,” Heather says.

This works, because we know Bill Potts. Where another person might stumble, untethered by earth and air, there’s no part of Bill that calls the innocence of such an offer into question. Slowly, she has stepped into a fairytale. She told her story to a ghost until it she filled it with enough life to save the world. She lost her heart and exchanged it for one made of tin. She cried tears woven from magic. But even as, to paraphrase Peter Capaldi, Bill’s heart reached the stars, she had her feet on the ground. Every line of her story is there because of who is she.

The woman who did not want to live unless she could be herself can also remain fundamentally true to herself, as she steps out into the starlight. This time, it is with a sense of direction. This time, she can be her own guide on her journey. “I've been through a lot since the last time we met, so I'll show you around.” And back in time for tea. How’s that for a good dream?

[thenotoriousscuttlecliff]

Moffat Era Rewatch: The Pyramid at the End of the World/The Lie of the Land

The Monks set their plan in motion and the Doctor is helpless to stop them...

Warning: spoilers Sweetie

These two episodes are not good. They are pretty much the low point of season 10.

I do like how they mixed up the recap by having it be Bill telling Penny about what happened last week. 

First the Pope, now the Secretary General of the United Nations. Bill, I think the universe is trying to send you a message about you and Penny. 

“I don't know the President. How would I know the President? I mean, I wouldn't even have voted for him. He's orange.”

Turmezistan now seems to be Doctor Who’s made up country of choice.

Really odd that it is the actual UN in this episode and not UNIT.  Was Jemma Redgrave too busy with Holby City? 

“The end of your life has already begun. There is a last place you will ever go, a last door you will ever walk through, a last sight you will ever see, and every step you ever take is moving you closer.” This feels more poignant now with his final story just around the corner.    

This is why you should always keep your specs in a case.

 Back on the presidential plane, which doesn’t get blown up for once. 

“Last I heard, you were on a date with Penny. What happened?” "Er, the United Nations Secretary-General." “Awesome.” "Nah, that wasn't a metaphor.” "Good, because I really wasn't following it.”

And here we have two of the world’s dumbest and most careless scientists. 

This is why you shouldn’t get hammered on a school night. 

“Do you understand now? Do you see? Asking them for help has conditions. Invite them in, and it will be the last free action you take.” 

“I'm sorry. It's not my first dead planet.” Probably not the first time he’s seen a dead Earth either. 

And here one of the world’s dumbest scientists violates every single safety protocol you can think of. First, he removes his helmet. 

Then he goes into the chamber unprotected. 

And takes it out of the airlock without being decontaminated or even shutting the door behind him. 

“What do you think, Mister President? Did we just give peace a chance?”

RIP Dumb Scientist #2

Can these three generals really surrender the word to the Monks without even consulting their leaders? 

“Oh, my God!” "No, I'm the Doctor, but it's an easy mistake to make. The eyebrows.”

“We have an air filtration system to take toxins out of the air. It runs a cycle every thirty minutes. It's going to pump the bacteria into the atmosphere.” Okay, that is just dumb, seriously who designed this place? It’s like they were planning to trigger an apocalypse.

Why is there no inbuilt fail safe in case of of an accidental release? Surely a lab like this should have an emergency sterilization system in place?  

Is this why there is no UNIT, because they wanted to kill off all the leaders so only Bill was left? 

Not only is this lab badly designed and poorly run it has keypads that are not friendly to blind people in anyway. That is grounds for a discrimination lawsuit if ever I saw one. I bet they don’t even have ramps for wheelchairs.    

Okay, the Doctor does not go through any kind of decontamination process here. So wouldn’t that just released the bacteria into the open anyway? 

“You act out of love. Love is consent. We must be loved.” Yes, but shes also acting out of fear the Doctor will be killed. So her consent isn’t really that pure now, is it?  

So the last episode was dumb, but ‘The Lie of the Land’ is really dumb and spectacularly bad. 

Of course no one believes the Monk’s lies, their photoshop skills are rank. 

So did the Monks insist everyone wear such drab clothing or did people just decide that themselves? 

Bill Potts has been more uncomfortable with all the death travelling with the Doctor entails than any other companion, and yet you expect me to believe that the first thing she would do after discovering the Doctor has changed sides is pull a gun and murder him? What were you smoking, Toby? 

This entire sequence was clearly contrived just so they could put an image of the Doctor regenerating into the trailer. 

“Regeneration a little bit too much?” Yes, yes it was. 

“I am going to beat the sh...” How I feel about Toby Whithouse while watching this episode.  

Look how spacious Missy’s prison is. I’d be happy to be locked up for a 1000 years if it meant having a place that roomy.  

“God, the way you and Nardole have been carrying on, I thought you had some kind of monster in here, or something!” Oh, Bill, my sweet summer child. 

“Wait a sec. Why have you got a woman locked in a vault? Because even I think that's weird, and I've been attacked by a puddle.” 

"I've had adventures too. My whole life doesn't revolve around you, you know.” You could’ve fooled me.    

“I once built a gun out of leaves. Do you think I couldn't get through a door if I wanted to?”   

Missy is the only good thing about this episode.

“Well, at this point, all that was left of the bloodline was a wee girl, and I just pushed her into a volcano.”   

“You know, back in the day, I'd burn an entire city to the ground just to see the pretty shapes the smoke made. I'm sorry your plus one doesn't get a happy ending, but, like it or not, I just saved this world because I want to change. Your version of good is not absolute. It's vain, arrogant and sentimental. If you're waiting for me to become all that, I'm going to be here for a long time yet.”

This place is ridiculously easy to break into. If this is the source of the Monk’s power why’d they leave the door wide open and not have any guards outside? 

“Fake news” How topical.  

Bill finally gets to be the one to save the day, which is great, but did it have to be in the worst episode of the season? Not to mention it was another tiresome “love conquers all” resolution. 

“I keep remembering all the people I've killed. Every day I think of more. Being bad, being bad drowned that out. I didn't know I even knew their names. You didn't tell me about this bit.” This is the most interesting idea anyone has had for the Master in a long time.  

Next Time: Empress of Mars

[laalratty]

Twice Upon a Time by Steven Moffat

Gaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh. That episode!!!

THE TENTH PLANET IS THE PREVIOUSLY ON DOCTOR WHO. Gah, they transitioned from Bill to David Bradley and from black and white to colour!!!

Oh I love this so much. THIS IS WHY I WATCHED THE TENTH PLANET EARLIER

OH MY GOODNESS

I MAY HAVE TEARS

He sounds so excited and full of wonder. 12 that is.

12 doesn't remember this.

Oh things have frozen in place and refuse to be put out of place.

'You trying to be funny?' BRILLIANT.

Well that's not normal for the trenches. And neither's that.

'Timeline error. There is a timeline error.' Yeah, kinda got that.

I like it when we see scenes from multiple perspectives.

Oooh a light.

I love the contrast between the 1st Doctor's view of earth and the 12th Doctor's.

'Have I been burgled?' lmao

'Always remember where you parked, it's going to come up a lot.'

WW1 vs The Great War. Oh his face. It would be pretty demoralising to have someone call it WW1 when as far as you're concerned it is the only world war.

WW1 guy is completely confused and holding a VHS.

1 is also confused at becoming 12.

It's a good thing this is at the end of 1's career not the start. Cos otherwise, 'let me help you' would actually mean, 'let me brain you with a rock.'

Oh 12's face. NURSING IS AN IMPORTANT PROFESSION AND SHOULD BE RESPECTED

You cannot say that 1.

Is 1 critiquing 12's TARDIS the reason why 2 is so good at saying, 'I don't like it.' HE PICKED IT UP HERE.

oh my goodness. YOU DID NOT IMPLY THAT POLLY DID ALL THE CLEANING ON THE TARDIS. 1!!!!

I'm with 12. STOP STAYING SEXIST STUFF 1. YOU'RE BETTER THAN THAT. DID YOU MAKE SUSAN AND BARBARA DO THE CLEANING???

Oh look, the TARDIS has been taken again.

The Doctor of war?

Oh my goodness, it's BILL!

A tear, laalratty?

Yep, out comes the sonic.

'Nobody imitates Bill Potts!'

Yeah, where's Heather? Oh memory issues. @knittedace I'm looking at you so hard right now.

Duplicate?

Yes 1, I’m not impressed with the sunglasses either.

Testimony? That doesn't sound good.

I was expecting 1 to stamp on the sunglasses.

Oh I love classic clips in newwho

VALEYARD!!!

Toclafane

Notice they didn't mention 5 taking Tegan and Turlough to the Eye of Orion to have a rest because they needed it.

Yay, escaping in 1's TARDIS.

SHUT UP 1!

Things you never expected to see - 1 in sunglasses.

Just what is in 12's browser history?

BIGGER THAN THE MATRIX!!??

BILL, PUNCH HIM!!!

Me too. lol.

Ooh, the Nightmare.

That looked like a Dalek.

'You're an arse.'

12 looked so horrified.

That was a glass hand, oh dear.

'They've really come out of their shell' lol.

Oh, THAT'S THE DOOMSDAY THEME!!!!!!!!

Both Doctor's afraid of regenerating.

Oh, mention of Cromer.

We haven't heard his name yet. I wonder if he's related to any of the UNIT lot.

What's in the tower?

Oh dear. What's happened to the soldier.

Uh oh, Erm, stay away from 1.

'I am not a good Dalek. You are a good Dalek.'

Rusty the Dalek. Sounds familiar.

'Good is not a practical survival strategy'. Hmm this sounds like a conversation he's had with Koschei back on Gallifrey.

Hey, New Earth.

'I don't really know what to do when it isn't an evil plan.'

For all his lifetimes, the older he gets, the worse with death the Doctor becomes.

I KNEW IT!!!!! LETHBRIDGE-STEWART!!!!!!

Silent Night. The tears.

Christmas Armistice. I totally have tears.

Wait, and that's Vale...! The music that 10 regenerated to. Nice to have 1 regenerate to it.

And we change back to the classic footage.

The hardest thing knowing the Doctor is letting them go.

Ugh, Clara, really.

And Nardole.

Doctor, you don't have to regenerate alone.

Is this a thing now where regnerate equals destroying the TARDIS.

Oh, off slips Capaldi's ring. Nice touch.

And the Doctor's Theme. JUST TO LET YOU KNOW THAT THIS IS THE DOCTOR!!!

'Oh brilliant.'

Nooooooo!!!!! So, On the whole I enjoyed it although the blatant sexism of 1 is far more overt than it actually was when he was on originally. If this is Moffat’s way of saying, ‘look how progressive and pro-feminism we are now’ THERE ARE BETTER WAYS OF SAYING IT THAN BY PUTTING DOWN AND EXAGGERATING WHAT HAS GONE ON BEFORE. It doesn’t make you look clever, just an idiot. I also wish it was actual Bill that we got rather than memory Bill. The story line was interesting was smacks slightly of Moffat doing stuff and then standing around saying, ‘look how clever I am.’ Like the memory stuff was interesting, but 5 has already said, ‘A man is the sum of his memories, you know. A Time Lord even more so.’

So the lessons learned are maybe a little redundant for the Doctor. I LOVED the references to the Tenth Planet. I watched that episode earlier today (and am really glad I did), and loved the way they morphed from original footage to David Bradley reshoots.

So for a score I’d give 7/10. He’s done worse episodes.

[whifferdills]

“The Doctor Falls” quicktakes:

the cybermen scarecrows both make no sense and tie into so totally and terrifyingly into the overall theme of 'normalized horror' that if anyone is nitpicking based on Logic im gonna have to ask if you've ever enjoyed a piece of fiction, ever

Bill holding 12 is Iconic. the dark mirror of that one photoshoot where Sophie Aldred is carrying Sylvester McCoy. Companions Carrying Around Dr Who Forever

"how many times have you died?" "how many different ways?" like o.k. might be revealing too much of myself but this scene was hotttt

NARDOLE running away with purpose. that face

"oh, am i a woman now?" "well, kind of" "kiss me" "make me" "would you like to be alone?" im....fuckin. yeah

"which would mean more than it usually does" i n n u e n d o

that SONG what are they dancing to. if i remember to edit this i'll try and shazaam it

"old school, nice for a change," Simm!Master says while stroking his beard

Simm remains the slimiest of all Masters and the continuing sense of Missy playing along either to impress him or to play him or...these TWO

"Round??" "It's a little bit" "Shut up" THIS TIME LORD OK

shades of...what's that one where Simm pushes 10 around. Simm v much wants the Dr under his total control, but i think Missy would hugely prefer informed consent

confirming all origins of the Cybermen while dissing Trump and pulling off an unlikely plan: dr who in a nutshell

like even if what happens at the end did not happen, in an ideal world where narrative tropes are equally distributed, this is precisely how you'd do a conversion-type story. the emphasis on the character reacting against the monster they've become. having Bill be human!Bill for the most part really, really works

and the Dr being the only one who sees her, shades of "Last Christmas"

PCap going hard in the paint, dang

"Knock yourself out", and she does. nice

"Seriously, I need to know, is that true?" oh there's so much here and they're so close and it's just. how she looks at her hand after the dr lets it go, and rubs her face, and everything gets weird when dealing with touch telepaths

BILL MY GIRL GO GET EM

"the Doctor's dead, told me he hated you" "yeah heard you the first time" new dynamic: master/missy/nardole

the whole...dangerous person everyone is afraid of has a particular weight, when portrayed as a black lesbian. it's both kind of hinky and is getting at a really deep emotion, there. like sure it's not ideal but for Bill, dunno. this just seems like it rams in hard into her fears in an empathetic way

once again i do believe the Bill & Thete comparisons are deliberate

Bill looking into the mirror like...dang dude

Jelly baby?

aw the quiet whump, 12 is already broken and about to get more broken and. MY BOY. NO

they're so quiet, both of them. this scene is so heartbreakingly underplayed until the "i'm FINE" im

Bill yes i love you and support you

"why can't I be angry" ohhhhh that's a loaded line. maybe not played out so great but. yes. ask this question more, in your fiction

Nardole goes native once again. i love how him being a Computer Genius was woven into the series so he could save the day. nice organic arc, that

Bill & 12 brotp tho oh jeez these two

fuck off Simm!Master. so good at being slimy, and i love it, but a decade on am once again prepared to side-eye anyone who finds him Cute or Hot. he's a fuckboy, right

12's about to do a "Caves of Androzani" please no

Bill realizing 12 can't save her fuckin...fuck

"as my friend...i don't want to live if i can't be me anymore" and instead of "OH but i can SAVE THE DAY" the dr just says "...yeah. i gotchu. but - maybe?" and it's. thank.

 s o n i c  u m b r e l l a

is Simm!Master now sufficiently obviously gross enough for people to not write fluffy uwu fanfic

BILL MY GIRL

"Is the future gonna be all girl?" "We can only hope" CHINBALLS ARE U LISTENING

aw them three together pointing their sonics while Simm yells "kILL ITT" "well done, genius twins"

Nardole and his new girl...yknow, im happy for them. i like them. best of luck, godspeed

 "is it wrong that I... "yes, very" HOLY SHIT AKDIPAHFFHPIAFHPIAWk0R-RY*@%@

kind of a Night of the Hunter vibe here

and a "Listen" vibe

Nardole was found on a doorstep

god the Dr's desperation here, how they just want to be kind even if it kills them. this is My Dr Who, right here. and aw Pcap stop making me tear up

"just to the end, just be kind" thank you murray gold and etc for shutting up, this scene really benefits from a lack of music, can u imagine how much a standard Gold riff would ruin this (sorry i uhhh. like i enjoy gold in broader stories and sometimes he nails it but im not hugely a fan)

and how Missy almost, almost stays

and dR WHO please PLEASE oh god ohgodohgodoh

Them RTD Cyberman Noises

t h e  a p p l e  o f  d i s c o r d

like...okay this was not my dream ending for Twelvedole but the 'fuck off i'm a criminal im gonna ruin this so' and the 'you're stronger' and the.....fuck dude. and Nardole sort of saying goodbye at the tomb/elevator and then going on to live his life...it's bittersweet but i can deal

"You sure?" "You know i am" Aoufqurgo3qrq69r5674248148rfyhwekjs9d8f2q9(((((((((*^

"I need you to be big, and I need you to be brave, and I need you to follow me" NARDOLE

"Now that? was very really nicely done" i'm gonna fling myself into the sun

the Dr won't ever know that she meant to stand by their side and it's so them but it hurts ok

"You know how I go for girls and people my own age" and you're expecting like, oh god, not again, not another companion with a crush on the Dr, but then she says 'no hetero' and the dr's like 'yeh' and they blow themselves up together platonically. friendship goals

my headcanons about Koschei regenerating into Missy on Gallifrey are now kaput but i love, love love love, that they both shot each other in the back while giggling

remember that any character on this show is dead only until someone wants to bring them back

the dr won't ever know that missy would have stood by them and that's so...so them, and it hurts, but it feels right

12 naming off all the times Cybermen fucked shit up. here is where Murray Gold is good

"Let it go" im, i cant

when heather came back is when i outright started crying

BILL LIVES. in a different way. BUT FOREVER AND ALWAYS

but plus 1 to all of us who called heather coming back may they travel thru time and space happily, good luck and godspeed

hit or miss on that dude playing One but rn am erring on the side of it working for me

the Xmas special is gonna destroy me

am genuinely surprised there was no 13 here but i can deffo live with that

"i can fly anything, even you" oooHHHH

OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH

nice

Bill's the Dr now

woo-ee-ooooh oh dogg was that a riff on Clara's theme just fuck me up fam

tbh i feel like 12's earned their 'i don't want to go' more than ten like it's just that they want to stop more than anything

again the xmas special will ruin me

but yeh i liked this story ok