#❪ mirror ❫ ⤿ twelfth doctor.

[newhouffaldi]

Giving me yet another idea for a fanfic...🤭

[robiniswriting]

people talk a lot about the parallels between eleven and thirteen but nobody ever talks about the parallels between nine and twelve!

both of them are a bit gruff on the outside but kind on the inside while struggling deeply internally with their own morality. both of them are effortlessly cool in a way that the other doctors can’t really match. they’re both sarcastic and funny and care more about being kind than being nice.

anyway, I love the subtle ways the doctor changes and stays the same and the parallels between their different incarnations. obsessed with them!!

[essiestarr]

Ok so now I've dragged myself through the last three episodes of season 8 kicking and screaming can we please talk about the parallels that happen the Christmas episodes from Season 7 and 8. The Christmas Cracker parallel .

You may be wondering what the hell am I talking about well this!

Clara and Eleven in 'The Time of the Doctor' and Clara and Twelve in 'Last Christmas'

It's just something about-

[maliciouscrow]

The Doctor: There’s this Emperor, and he asks a sheperd’s boy, “how many seconds are there in eternity?” And the sheperd’s boy says,

The Veil:

[capybaraonabicycle]

Is this anything?

[dontbelasagne]

desperately need to do a presentation on why the Twelfth Doctors journey perfectly represents the transfem experience

their previous eleventh incarnation being suave and hypersexual (i know moffat is mostly to blame but!) is reminiscent of attempts to fit into heteronormative ideals of masculinity. whilst it is not completely insincere, there are obvious signs this does not fit you as a person, it is acted out of desperate need to being seen. as Vastra put it, eleven wore that face, and subsequently that form of masculinity, to be accepted. on becoming twelve, realising even an "idealised" masculinity does not inherently serve them, they retreated into themselves as a person for self-reflection and trying to understand why they feel so detached from who they are.

the "am i a good man" arc mirrors being closeted and having to present as something not inherently tied to your sense of self, but still wanting to be the best of your perceived gender as any failure could leave you spiralling into self-doubt about simply being like any other "man". you ignore your gender dysphoria/questioning by trying to claim a moralistic view of gendered expression. made even more clear by Twelve rejecting Clara's heroic view of them, establishing that even though they have made efforts to be a "good man", that is just a placeholder for their loss of identity.

Missy appearing as she does, who as a character serves as a parallel to The Doctor on what they could become, and her eventual arc in trying to become good is symbolic of the fear around transition regret that internalised transphobia can create when you are closeted. Missy never gives importance to their fem existence other than nonchalant jokes, rather showing a more free and expressive personality devoid of any frustration. this immediately dismisses the transphobic assumption that trans people are only focused on their gender. also, Missy representing trans femininity is inherently tied to chaos and upsetting the status quo, she is the embodiment of what society considers accepting your womanhood as someone previously labelled masculine. what many others, and The Doctor themselves, saw as a need for attention and senseless disruption is Missy not needing to serve a false version of who they are, that they can now focus on becoming whoever they want to be now without losing energy to performing a gender that society has imposed on you. Missy could never have made the decision to stand with The Doctor if she had not given importance to her own queerness.

it wasn't coincidence with meeting Bill, she was the perfect foil for The Doctor to finally let go of their anxious attachment to masculinity. i would even argue for the majority of s10, The Doctor is largely ambiguous in their gender identity and does not fit into any construction of masculinity or femininity. whilst they still present as something socially labelled as masculine, they do not internalise that gender expression. they are uncaring about and not needing the validity that comes with heteronormativity, and thus is free to finally accept the decision they have to make. as Bill says, it is so hard to let go of The Doctor, and that rings true for twelve themselves. but they begin to realise The Doctor can be anyone. yes, they are tired, it would be so easy to simply rest and not give value to who you can become. but choosing to let go of everything you once were to survive is better than oblivion. it is better to let go, to choose another lifetime where the only person that dies is your falsity, to finally get it right and choose kindness. for yourself and for those who you love. they regenerate, not just into another person, but into someone who (if only tv scripts...) can now move forward.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

OMG I HAVE ANOTHER DRABBLE REQ 😭😭✋🏻.

Can you do a drabble in which jti!jk lifts oc's baby bump

To giver her some relief?😭

(Love the teaser cantt waitttttt)

Haha this is so cute 🥰

Sure I think I can do that 🤭

(Are you talking about the Jimin teaser? I'm sad because it doesn't look like many people are interested in it but I'm glad you're excited about it 🥺💜)

~~~~~~

"Jungkook" I call out for him and I hear footsteps rushing upstairs moments later.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?" he asks, concern clearly written all over his face and I can't help but giggle at the sight.

"Everything is fine I just can't get up" I relay, embarrassed that it's come to the point where I need his help for something as simple as this but he lets out a huge sigh of relief and helps me up with no hesitation.

"You scared me for a second there" he says and places a kiss on my forehead once I'm steady on my feet. "Sorry, I just didn't know how far away you were and you left your phone in here so I couldn't call you" I say, motioning over to where his phone is lying on his side of the bed.

"That's okay, I'm just glad I was here to help this time" he says, chuckling at the memory of the time I told him it took me almost five minutes of wiggling around to finally get myself out of bed one morning.

He wasn't around since he had to go into the office that day but he made sure that there weren't opportunities for something like that to happen again.

"Why did you have to put such a big baby in me?" I huff, walking over to the bathroom to go pee for what feels like the twelfth time today.

"They're not that big, the doctor says that they're growing at a healthy rate. It's our first baby so your body is still trying to figure out how to cope with it all" he says, leaning against the door frame and making sure that I'll be okay to get up on my own.

"Yeah I know but it sucks feeling this helpless. Plus I feel like I'm about to topple over half the time when they start moving around" I say, the hormones making me a bit more irritable today.

Well you are thirty five weeks at this point so they're running out of room in there" he says, smiling at he watches me struggle to wash my hands with my big belly in the way.

It's not that he likes seeing how difficult it is for me to perform simple tasks like this, he just finds it endearing and loves to help me more than anything.

"Very funny" I grumble once I catch his smile in the mirror and walk past him and back into the bedroom but I don't get too far before he's holding onto me like he always does.

I swear it's some sort of primal instinct or something because for some reason he always feels the need to keep his hands on me at all times.

"Can I try something really quick?" he asks, both his hands snaking around my waist or lack there of because of our ginormous spawn. "Like what?" I ask, sighing in contentment when he places a kiss on my neck, laying my head back on his shoulder and relishing the feeling of it.

"It might feel a little weird for a second but tell me if it hurts right away" he warns and now I'm scared. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to turn around and face him but he holds me in place before I can.

"Just trust me" he mumbles against my skin and after thinking about it for another second or two I nod my head and wait for whatever it is he has planned.

He runs his hands all along my stomach and then rests them right underneath it and when I think he's about to go lower he wraps his arms under it and lifts it up, granting me instant relief and I couldn't control the moan I let out even if I wanted to.

"That good huh?" he chuckles, placing a kiss on my temple and lifting it up a little higher making me melt into him. "You have no idea" I sigh, not remembering what it felt like not having a baby in me until now.

"I've gotta let go soon though" he warns and although I know he would do this for me all day if he could all good things must come to an end.

"One more minute?" I ask and he chuckles and adjusts his hold so he can keep it going for a little bit longer and even when a minute is up he just stays there, holding me as long as he can...

~~~~~

Hope that was fluffy enough for ya 🥰

I miss this couple sm but I've kinda come to a writer's block for the main storyline but dw I haven't forgotten about them 💜

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Unofficial Fifth Member of the Beatles (Doctor Who Drabble)

Twelfth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: the Doctor has a new and unexpected accessory.

Fic type: fluff

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers  (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Doctor,” you said incredulously- “is that an earring?!” 

The Doctor didn’t look up from the console, inputting new location details for your next adventure. He was looking rather haggard today, actually, you thought. Like he was more tired than usual. 

“Mm?-” he grunted in response before brushing the piercing with his fingers and wincing. “This- oh yes, got it recently,” he looked up then, flashing a charming grin your way. “D’you like it? Not sure it’s me, actually. I haven’t decided yet.” 

Your jaw opened and closed a couple of times, unsure how to reply to that. Your eyes darted to his other ear to check if there was a matching one or not. Nope, just the one. Snorting, you shook your head in disbelief. 

“I have so many questions,” you said, firmly taking a seat as the TARDIS took up flight. “Starting with why?” 

The Doctor tore his eyes from the monitor to look at you square on. The expression on his face was easy to read. He was looking at you like that was the stupidest question you could have asked. 

“It’s a long story,” he replied curtly. Upon your querying gaze, he groaned in resignation. “Okay- last week I went out with John Lennon and the Roaches. No, Beatles. They dared me.”

Well, that just left you with even more questions than you’d had before. John Lennon. As in- the? Had to be. He couldn’t be talking about anyone else. 

“Okay, it wasn’t that long a story, was it?” He added, more to himself than anyone else. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You know what it’s like when someone dares you to do something. If you don’t, you’re a clucking hen or something similarly ridiculous and implausible.” 

Wow. You didn’t even know where to start with that.

“D’you think it looks bad?” The Doctor frowned, turning the display into a camera so he could get a look at himself in the makeshift mirror. “Hurts a lot. Maybe I should take it out.” 

“No, no,” you floundered, getting up and moving over closer so you could get a better look. “Keep it. It suits you. We’ll make a rockstar out of you yet.” 

The Doctor laughed, pulling his sonic shades out from his coat pocket and putting them on. 

“You think? I reckon I could be a Beatle,” he replied, wagging his eyebrows at you playfully. 

“Sure Doctor,” you giggled. “Why not.”

[spicyclover]

Scar

Summary: Being teammates isn’t always the easiest thing in the world. 

Request

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

I'm open to requests.

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Rivalry and challenge have always been the words to describe your relationship with Daniel. Never giving up. No matter the cause. No matter the consequence. He’s one of the tops of the top drivers, and you can’t afford to lose another race. It’s almost the middle of the season, and you’re way behind him. 

You can’t sleep or eat as you should. All those worries and pressure put you in a state you can’t imagine. It’s eating you alive, even though you try to keep healthier habits. Seeing him perform more than you is painful. Eating less. Putting more hours in the sim or at the gym. You can’t even remember the last time you went out with friends. 

You hate being the second driver. It’s a fact. We are at the Canadian Grand Prix, and you’re about to go in your car for the race. Your weekend has been worst than ever. You couldn’t or barely do the practice season since your vehicle had a mechanical problem. You have qualified in P12, way behind your teammates who are in P6. 

Sat in the car, you’ve been focusing on your race. You haven’t eaten in a day and are throwing up everything you put in your mouth out of stress. You’re dehydrated, but the doctor cleared you for the race. You can feel the lack of sleep and food getting to you, but you suppress those feelings to focus. You need to focus. All you need to do is set your mind and mind to win and be better than him. 

You do the formation lap, and the race begins. The first corner is the worst. Everyone turns around. And already two cars are hitting each other, causing a lot of debris to spread out on the track. You get through the dust cloud and are a little further away. A yellow flag is automatically displayed, and your engineer informs you as best he can of the situation. Three cars are off the grid, so you’re three places ahead on the grid. You’re no longer twelfth but ninth, three places to your number-one rival.

The red flag is on, and you all get behind the safety car and back to the pit. Once in the pits, everyone is allowed to get out of their vehicle, as the red flag may take several minutes. 

Okay, here is the thing about Daniel. Is the best teammate in the world outside the track. Always been friendly and compassionate. He likes you. It’s a fact. Being the first woman in a long time in a formula one car and being his teammate is the dream for Daniel. So when you’re out of your monoplace, he’s already by your side, debriefing the incident. 

“What a crazy start,” he says with his sexy Australian accent. “It was just pure chaos. I saw it in my mirrors. It’s a good thing you haven’t been it.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, eager to get away from him.

You like Daniel, he’s a great person, don’t let anyone fool you. But you can’t let the fact of being his teammate and being the less competitive one is so hard on you. You just can’t let things go, and every time, sometimes happens, you can’t let it go. You've always been like this. Making no difference between the race track and off-track. So even though you like him, you just can let things go. At some point, you just stop talking about anything and let him do all the talking. 

Well, in fact, one night in Monaco, you allowed yourself a little party and ended up being drunk in a boat, almost falling out off the ship and into the Mediterranean. Thanks to Daniel, who passed by and caught you in time. You were in his arms when you started mumbling all you had in your heart. Letting your bag go and saying what’s been bothering you. 

“You know. I hate being the second driver. You have all the glory and everything because the car is designed for you. What am I left with? Scrubs. It’s suck. I’ve been sick for three weeks now because I just can’t deal with my shit.” You cried on his shirt. “I don’t want to be second.”

He brought you back to your hotel room and stayed with you. Listening carefully to everything you’ve said to him. He knew this feeling of being second too well, and he couldn’t do anything to improve it for you. Before returning to his apartment, he brushes your hair and puts your pyjamas on. 

You didn’t talk about this after. And a year has passed, and you’ve been in the same situation again. Making yourself sick to be at your best performance. The red flag is over, and you all drive off to race. 

Your laps are getting good, and you feel good about the car. You managed to get behind, Daniel. Finally, you’re getting in the groove. Your laps are getting better than Daniel, and the team order Daniel to let you through. You’re in the long straight to the last corner. After insisting quite a bit, Daniel let you through at the last moment, making a dangerous move. 

Your wheels lock up, and you’re enabled to finish your turn. You are going straight to the champion wall, full speed and no brake. The back of Daniel's car damaged your front wings, which blocked your brake and locked up the wheels. You don’t even have time to think you hit the first wall. Part of the barrier flies around, and you feel something touching your chest. 

The second wall came quickly as the first one. You can feel pressure on your chest, and you have difficulty breathing. You can hear on the radio your engineers calling your name. You want to say something, but the words are stuck in your throat. 

After that, you don’t remember much. Everything is blurred. You are in great pain and somehow hear Daniel's voice calling your name. Then you black out. 

The first thing you hear when you wake up. It’s the rhythm of the monitor. Then you smell sanitizer. When you can open your eyes. You are met with the worried looks of your family. And then everything became a blur. The doctor's announcement. The end of your career. The beginning of this new rehabilitation. The world kept turning, but you felt stuck in your bed. Well, you are stuck in bed. Time flies, and the vacation finally arrives. You’ve been discharged, and you went back home to the UK.

It’s the first in three months that you and Daniel will see each other again. At first, you’ve been angry at him, wondering why he made that move. When he enters your apartment, a weird silence takes place. Neither of you knows what to say to the other. Deep down, you must keep your mind open and calm to any outcome. So when you see how uncomfortable he has been, you can’t help yourself to hug him. A weight is lifted from your shoulder and Daniels. Something forgiveness is the way to find peace. 

You converse for quite a while, talking about everything other than racing. It’s been long since you opened up to him that way. Making yourself vulnerable again, just like at the beginning of this journey. Really being friends with him.

“Show me your scar.” He says tenderly after seeing you scratching through the fabric of your shirt. 

You take your top off, showing yourself in your sports bra. He sees it for the first time. This scar on your chest’s forever grave in your skin because of his mistake is like a fantom reminder of his action toward you. His gaps silently.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, tears in his eyes. 

“I’ll heal.” You simply say, putting your shirt back on. 

“Scars don’t disappear.”

“No. But they heal, and I think I need to heal now.” You say, stocking his cheek and removing a few tears from his eyes. “I’ll be better, and it’s time I care for myself.”

[doctorhoe]

POV: we're on a date that was going well until I started explaining to you how the tenth doctor and the twelfth doctor from the science fiction show doctor who (2005) mirror each other in that they both lost the person they were essentially made for but the tenth doctor became a worse person after whereas the twelfth doctor only became kinder and also they're both skinny and have great hair

[venussaidso]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴 — 𝘈𝘚𝘏𝘞𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘚

Johnlock is an Ashwini-Ashwini ship. Dr John Watson, played by Ashwini Moon Martin Freeman, is the known fictional physician companion to Sherlock Holmes, played by Ashwini Moon Benedict Cumberbatch, who is a sociophathic investigator. The deities that rule this nakshatra are physicians and Ketu nakshatras are known to be cast as mystery-solving investigators. Sherlock's high intelligence is in connection to Ashwini, the nakshatra known for speed and an active mind.

Clara Oswald is to the Twelfth Doctor is what James Watson is to Sherlock Holmes, I just realized. The Twelfth Doctor and Sherlock Holmes portray a similar archetype of Ashwini; both prone to isolation, their intellect and sense of superiority being at the expense of their human emotions, the two being driven by their genius and recklessness. As stated before, Ashwini nakshatra is related to an active intelligence. And it is interesting that the companions they form a deep love and respect for are also Ashwini natives themselves.

Clara Oswald and James Watson embody another side to this Ketu nakshatra which balances and challenges the antisocial genius archetype. As both their partners are abrasive and cold, they counter that by bringing emotional insights and grounding foundation to the dynamic while still being able to keep up with their speedy wit (specifically Clara with Twelve).

For Sherlock Holmes and James Watson, they function like complementary twins— being opposites that fit together. They become inseparable because they offer what the other lacks. These two literally have a deep, unhealthy attachment to one another. But it's not as worse as Clara and Twelve.

Because Clara Oswald and Twelve's relationship evolves to them literally becoming mirrors of each other. As Ketu sucks things in, we see how much Clara takes on his personality through her evolution. She adopts his personality, as he does hers. Their connection becoming so deep that it shapes their identities, until their relationship actually becomes their identity. Which speaks to how receptive Ashwini can be, also speaking to the 1H themes and Libra being the 7th house from Aries.

Clara actually starts to be an equal in the series when she's by his side, the pair functioning like inseparable twins, anticipating each other's thoughts and actions. Their co-dependence and affection for each other so intense that it is addictive as it is destructive to those around them. Their separation ultimately leading him to obsessive, destructive, desperate behaviours — as he feels like he lost a big part of his identity as well. Exactly how Sherlock Holmes would react had he lost Dr James Watson.

In addition to this, but more different, there are two Beauty-&-the-Beast tropes of this Ashwini-Ashwini dynamic. One is Spike and Buffy who have a relationship in which one character embodies the humanity and goodness the other craves and has a choice to learn from, although their toxic duo is marked by conflict and co-dependence.

The Ketu nakshatras being associated with Beauty in this trope, as well as the Beast (after the Jupiter naks of course), highlights the theme of their relationship. His character is marked by darkness and a longing for acceptance, while she seeks to understand the complexities of those around her. He represents the Beast, as she is initially repulsed by his vampirism, before she sees beyond his monstrous exterior to see the vulnerability within.

In the kdrama Sweet Home, Sang-wook is a contract killer who is out of touch with his humanity and it is when he meets a nurse caretaker, Yu-Ri, that he finds himself caring that deeply for someone in such a short amount of time, her presence making him reflect on his actions and identity.

Casey and Kevin in Glass embody this trope the most, as she is the only person who consistently shows empathy towards Kevin’s true self, becoming an anchor for him and reminding him of his humanity amidst his inner turmoil.

This complex dynamic is interesting as it nods, twice, to Casey's Ketu influence. She embodied the final girl nakshatra lord when the Beast devoured its victims and she survived, then she became Beauty to the Beast albeit more twisted in "Glass".

This trope extends to other Ketu-Ketu pairs which I have touched on before.

There is a sense that each character helps the other define or remember who they are in all of these Ashwini pairings as this nakshatra is prone to losing touch of oneself (such as Sherlock or the Twelfth Doctor straying from their humanity and isolating) or not even knowing one's place in the world (much like Spike and even Kevin). The presence of the other Ashwini shapes the behaviour, thoughts, and actions of the other, making their bond almost integral to their sense of self. Touching on those 1H themes, this is what the entire Aries section is learning, but this is Ashwini's important journey.

The Ashwini-Ashwini pair is much like twins who grow up shaping each other’s identities, where the presence of one is key to understanding oneself. And the inseparability of Clara and Twelfth is so twin-like, that of course their companionship to me is literally parallel to this nakshatra's deites; the twin brothers, Ashwini Kumaras, who have adventures and many achievements together (just like Clara and Twelve traveling and going on many adventures). I have noted months ago, maybe even a year from now, that the Ashwini-Ashwini pair can be a nod to that. It may signify having or seeking your soul's other half (neither romantic nor platonic), being how twins are usually described.

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 22

One time the Fourth Doctor and Sarah Jane escaped the Daleks only because the future Fourth Doctor had gone back in time to strategically place objects that would aid them in their escape.

The Doctor visited Queen Elizabeth II's coronation in all of their first 13 numbered incarnations.

Sam Jones knows what the Doctor's name is.

Rassilonian timeflies are time sensitive insects that have carcinogenic and artronic shells that can cause chronal tumors.

Oscar Wilde looks a lot like the Eighth Doctor. After finding some of the Eighth's clothes in the TARDIS, he even put them on.

In fact, by some accounts, Oscar Wilde was a vampire.

After the Eighth Doctor lost his second heart, he'd get panic attacks upon only feeling that he only had a single pulse.

Once when the Ninth Doctor was listing his former companions, he mentioned a Prince Egon and an Ella McBrien. It is unknown when these two were companions or which Doctor they traveled with.

The Eighth Doctor carries food in his pockets because he doesn't like seeing his companions hungry.

Mickey was in a band called No Hot Ashes (temporarily renamed Bad Wolf) with Mook Jayasundera, Patrice Okereke, Sally Salter, and Jimmy Stone.

Destrii thought the Eighth Doctor was a "package" because he had "brains, buns, and barrel-loads of bravado."

The First Doctor lost his left hand in a fight with a Soul Pirate. Twenty years after losing it, he got a prosthetic but almost immediately lost that one too. He was very miffed by all of this.

It was the First Doctor’s second fight with the Soul Pirates (the fight involving the prosthetic) that inspired J. M. Barrie to write Peter Pan.

Time Lord brains are worth a lot of money.

The Eleventh Doctor's favorite fruit is pomegranate.

The Eighth Doctor once telepathically stopped someone's heart.

The Fourth Doctor once said that he "would never say 'bowties are cool.'"

According to the Ninth Doctor, the only two "halfway sentient" species on Earth in 2005 are humans and meerkats.

The Eleventh Doctor was incredibly guilty about all of the casualties that resulted from the siege on Trenzalore. Because of this, he suppressed his memories of these events.

The Eighth Doctor temporarily became a business consultant and a beekeeper in order to provide for his daughter Miranda.

The Eighth Doctor finds the Sixth Doctor to be embarrassing.

While trapped in the mirror, Daughter of Mine was visited by several incarnations of the Doctor, including the old one with all the hair (Twelfth), the one Benny had traveled with (Seventh), the thin white aristocrat (Shalka), the one who couldn't walk (the Doctor 2, who used a wheelchair), and the one with red hair (Merlin).

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

[notvictorhugo]

Sooo I've just seen some beautiful fanarts of thirteen and eleven and I have Thoughts

So Im gonna talk a bit about Eleven and Thirteen, their relationships with Ten and Twelve, and the concept of 14 and why I think it fits so well.

My main thesis is this: Thirteen and Eleven are very, VERY similar, they are hurt in very similar ways from their previous regenerations, and deal with those things in similar ways. However, while Eleven gets a forced catharsis in Trenzalore, Thirteen only gets an optional one, which she rejects, forcing the regeneration into Fourteen and, later on, the bigeneration. Let's go!

I'd like to begin with Ten and a brief recap of his tenure. It begins with Rose, someone she knew from his previous regeneration, someone who, in many senses, healed him from the cynical POV he had adopted since the Time War. She becomes a bit too doctory, and ends up trapped in a parallel universe, largely because of him and his influence.

He then meets Martha. She ends up leaving him because he can't get over himself and his very recent trauma with Rose. He's on his own for a bit, and meets Donna, arguably his best friend in a long while. And, just like Rose, his actions end up with him being forced to depart from her. He is SO DONE at this point. He keeps travelling on his own, doing his own thing, a distant doctor (but a doctor still) who ends up becoming the Time Lord Victorious. In this state of Loneliness, he is forced to end Gallifrey again, and is saved by the closest thing he has to a friend at this point: the Master. He regenerates.

So, what does the Doctor do immediately after that, in his eleventh incarnation? When he meets Amy he decides to try again. This time, however, Amy is not a life-in companion, as Rose and Donna were (Im not sure about Martha, but I think she was one as well). Instead, he begins to microdose the Ponds, popping in every hundred years or so, seeing them for a while, then leaving again. After Rose, Martha and Donna, he absolutely refuses the idea of losing someone again: he is painfully aware of the time limits, and if working around them means not seeing the Ponds except on rare occasions, so be it. He is RUNNING AWAY.

Except, of course, it doesn't work. A lovely trip to New York ends with the Ponds being zapped back in time, a tombstone confirming they died, and a letter from Amy certifying that he never went back to see them, which, of course, means that NOW he can't. It's written, it's part of the timeline.

So he gives up. He refuses to engage, he refuses to take a new companion and, you know what, this time he won't even be a Doctor. He tried that after Donna and see how it worked out, no, no, never again. He is so tired.

This is arguably the end of the post-time war era. That part of him is definitely healed, and now all his wounds come from after that.

What happens then? He meets Victorian Clara. And she dies. But he's seen Clara die before. He's seen the same person twice, he's seen her die twice, and now here she is, a third one. His curiosity gets the better of him, but there may also be a bit more: for this woman, a death is not the end.

So they travel together, she moves in, and, with her, he starts healing again. This is somewhat similar to a Nine-Rose situation. What happens next?

Well, remember how he keeps running away from loss, what he was doing with the Ponds? This time it's enforced. He is trapped on Trenzalore, leaves Clara, and can only see her every few hundred years. He is forced to stay somewhere and see everyone be born, grow up and die, strapped to a chair, Clockwork-Orange-Style, to see his worst nightmare again and again and again. He lives through it, and Clara is there, always.

He regenerates.

Clara is with him, and she becomes to his twelfth incarnation what Rose was to his tenth. After many adventures, and after a beautiful mirror of Trenzalore in which it is the doctor who is forced to die again and again, Clara leaves in a way that mirrors Donna.

He could enter a second Time Lord Victorious era at this point, but he won't. He's been here before, he knows how it works, he's older and knows better. You can't run from death forever. He says goodbye to River Song and retires, but not in a hermit way, as he'd done before, but in a Professor way. He engages. He takes Bill as a student, but he will not let her become another Rose, Martha, Donna, Amy, Clara. She is not an equal, a partner, but his student and his protegée.

He also remembers. Last time, when he was in this situation, it was the Master who was with him by his side. The Master, who is also a timelord, who grew up with him, who's always been there. Perhaps, he thinks, there is the answer. He becomes her guardian, tries to fix her.

And, as we know (but crucially he doesn't), he succeeds. But he believes she -the one who was to be his friend- betrayed him, his protegée dies because of them, and now what? He gets into an explosion, but he does not die.

He is so tired. He's been through this twice already, as Ten and as Fourteen, and something like it as Eleven. Nothing works. His last shot, Missy, fails. He refuses to do it again. He does not want to regenerate.

Here's when Thirteen comes in.

She comes right after an attempt of giving up. It comes after recalling his friends (what makes his life worth living) and recalling how much she's grown via meeting One. Fine. Another attempt. Let's go.

But, just like Ten-Eleven, this new chance comes without any self-reflection, any attempt at fixing herself. Just like Eleven, she knows that she just has to run away, she just has to make friends, keep them well, keep them happy, and everything will be okay, just don't think about it. We sometimes see her brooding on her TARDIS alone, but she resumes her act as soon as Yaz (or anyone else) appears. She won't let the Fam see anything: the Bill dynamic worked well, so they're gonna be her students, not her equals. Not again.

So she's alone, perhaps more than ever. She has no friends, only students who she wants to convince they're friends to her, her wife's dead, the only other timelord remaining, her friend, has betrayed her and trashed all her previous efforts, and now it turns out the land of Time Lords, her equals, the ones she might have come back to, the ones she'd finally saved, have been destroyed again (by her friend!) and she isn't even one of them, she's an anomaly in an entire universe. And she HAS to carry all this on her back, not relying on anyone, not letting anyone close this time (unlike Clara-Eleven), AND has to pretend everything's fine for the humans she's decided to keep with her AND now it turns out one has caught feelings for her? Requited feelings at that?

Thirteen is a tragic figure. Unlike Ten, who had ups and downs, recoveries and reprises, and Eleven, who is forced to stay in Trenzalore and recover, she just... Dies. Carrying the same trauma from start to finish, and getting more and more and more and...

She can't. She just can't. She needs to stop. In these situations, humans somatize and just collapse, but she can't. So, how does her body force her to stop?

Old face.

Not Twelve, he was also alone. Not Eleven, with Amy and Rory timelocked. Ten, then? Yes, Ten might do. Back to an old face. Her TARDIS, seizing this chance, takes him to his friend, Donna. An equal, not a student.

But he still refuses to stop, refuses to engage, he just runs and runs and runs, never stopping, never sharing, never trusting. The ONE TIME he opens up a bit, it turns out it's to Fake Donna. Actual Donna doesn't remember. He powers on, as Thirteen did.

And then he gets shot.

But his body refuses. It is NOT giving up. It is not gonna let this chance go, it is not gonna give it a new face just to keep running from everything, as Thirteen and Fourteen did. No, Fifteen won't do that. The body regenerated eighteen hours ago: theregeneration energy is still fresh. Last time it had this face, he grew a new hand. Perhaps there's time for one last trick, it thinks.

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @zodiac-carnival-zine! I love the banter and easy friendship between these three (with Hatori barely keeping these two from falling into chaos).

…

…

…

…

Hatori was a busy man. He had to be as the Sohma family doctor. His clan was a large, sprawling one, and he had more patients than he had hair. Between his constantly complaining elders and his rambunctious younger kin, he had his hands full.

All of that wasn’t including his twelve special patients. They weren’t special in the sense that they had a lot of health problems, needing specialized care and constant attention. No, they were special in the sense that eleven of them were cursed to transform into the twelve zodiac animals. Special in the sense that the twelfth patient was a single, sadistic god. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the twelfth zodiac animal, Hatori wouldn’t have believed a word about the family curse.

Oddly enough, that wasn’t the strangest part of his family—no, that was reserved for the fact that they all lived in a circus. He had never been able to make heads nor tails of that fact, only that it was. At least it was a permanently based one, instead of a travelling circus; he couldn’t imagine the effort it would take to transport the entire clan from city to city.

The only benefit to it was that it wasn’t unusual to see a tiger or a horse here, so it wasn’t too hard hiding a transformation. Not that his own transformation was anything special—the dragon he turned into was more of a sea horse than a beast to be feared. For a while he had considered studying veterinary medicine, just in case, but now he was grateful that he didn’t. Who knew how busy his days would have been then?

Actually, he knew the answer to that: the same as now, too busy. Which is why he didn’t have the time to stand in front of a full-length mirror, his arms erect at his side as he made a giant ‘T’ shape. Grumpily, he stared at his reflection. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” Standing next to him, Ayame gasped and clutched his chest. His measuring tape hung loosely between his fingers as he swayed back and forth. “You don’t like my costumes?”

Hatori bit his cheek. In all honesty, the black pants were a little too loose for his tastes. The only saving grace was the soft blue shirt, the tamest thing he’d seen come out of Ayame’s wardrobe. It missed all the bells, frills, and whistles that usually made up Ayame’s fashion sense. Still, there was no point in bringing that up. “No, that wasn’t—”

“This magnificent cape is more than just a cape, Tori,” Ayame argued passionately, plucking a regal blue cape off a nearby chair and draping it across Hatori’s back. “Look at how elegant the fur trim is, how passionate the blue, how eye-catching the apparel is—this is truly the outfit of a hero!”

He felt a headache forming. “Again, that wasn’t what I said.”

Shigure poked his head out of one of the many costume-filled racks. The red tent was utterly filled with them, making the small place feel even smaller and cozier. Wearing a pirate hat and an eye patch, he raised a brow. “What’s not to like? It’s a world of dreams.”

“Gure!” Ayame turned back to Shigure. Hatori could almost see the hearts in his eyes. “I knew you’d understand.”

“Of course I would, Aya,” Shigure replied, traipsing over. Now that he was fully out of the rack, Hatori could make out the space suit he was wearing, and not for the first time he wondered just what Shigure was up to. Clasping Ayame’s hands, Shigure crooned, “Your dreams are mine.”

“I only see you in them every night,” Ayame murmured back, a grateful smile crossing his face. The lighting from Ayame’s workstation only made them look all the more dramatic.

Exactly three seconds after (and it was always three seconds, Hatori wasn’t sure just when those two had figured that three seconds of staring was the exact right amount, but they had), Shigure and Ayame turned to him with identical grins, giving him a thumbs up. “See?” they parroted at the same time.

“See what?” Hatori replied dryly, resisting the urge to sigh. He’d been through this who knew how many times, yet they always managed to tire him out. “Anyways, that’s not it. Your costumes are very well made, Ayame.”

“Tori!” Letting go of Shigure, Ayame leaped forward and hugged Hatori tightly. “I knew you’d like them.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Shigure asked, already turning back to the racks. Hatori knew with a hundred percent certainty that the man was bored; he was only here to try on different costumes. As long as he wasn’t stirring up trouble elsewhere, Hatori would just have to live with it.

“It’s just…” Hatori brushed his hair back, running his fingers through his locks. “I’m the only doctor, I don’t have time to be a performer too.”

“Why can’t you be both?” Ayame asked, pulling back slightly and cocking his head.

“Please don’t ask that seriously.” Hatori sighed again. “I don’t have enough time. I don’t understand why Akito ordered us to perform together again.”

“Akito just likes pushing you,” Shigure replied, rifling through the racks. He pulled out several hangers as he talked. Hatori wasn’t sure if he was imagining the slight jealousy in Shigure’s voice.

“I really don’t need to be pushed,” Hatori grumbled, patting Ayame on the back before gently extracting himself. “Even just taking care of our group is more than enough on my plate.”

Not listening, Shigure murmured, “Or maybe he’s feeling insecure after all…”

“Insecure?” Hatori wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that last part, or if he even wanted to. He had his suspicions that Tohru, their new part-timer, hadn’t actually just stumbled into the job like Shigure had claimed. That perhaps his childhood friend was up to something devious.

The only question was if he had enough energy to deal with it all. The answer was a resounding no and he sighed. “Please don’t drag others into your schemes.”

“Schemes? Me?” Shigure plopped a princess crown on his forehead and tried on a pair of angel wings. He gave the most innocent look possible. “Never. Besides, you spend wayyyy too much time in your tent. You need a break.”

“And what greater break is there, than performing with us?” Ayame had stars in his eyes as he posed dramatically. “The bright lights shining down on us, the audience clapping, a flurry of petals—it’ll be just like the good old days.”

Shigure crossed his arms and nodded sagely. “Women swooning, girls wanting my number again—I can’t wait.”

Hatori wasn’t sure how much of that was a joke, and how much of it was serious. It was probably both, considering Shigure. “This doesn’t sound like much of a break.”

He hadn’t really expected a response. Which was good, because as usual he didn’t get one. The pair had a feedback loop between them, pumping each other higher. Or rather, Shigure was pumping Ayame higher because he refused to put the breaks on the whole thing.

“Perfect casting, the three of us as the three musketeers.” Shigure raked a hand through his dark hair, pushing his bangs back as he gave a rakish grin. “Utterly flawless.”

“And romantic!” Ayame added, raising an imaginary sword. His measuring tape and other costume making tools were long forgotten and Hatori had no doubt this measuring session would take far longer than it ought to. His silver hair flowed around him as he twirled. “The brotherhood, the betrayal, the friendship—romance at its finest.”

“Romantic, huh?” Hatori paused at that. Tohru flashed across his mind. Perhaps there was some value to this after all.

After the snow melts, spring comes.

He smiled automatically. Maybe he could pay her back for earlier with a front row ticket. She seemed like she’d enjoy a good love story.

“Ohhh?” While he’d been distracted, Ayame had gotten close once more, leaving only the faintest gap between them as he looked into Hatori’s eyes. He smirked slyly. “What’s that, Tori? Are you thinking about someone? Is it…a man’s romance?”

Hatori did not want to know what that meant. Frowning, he stepped back. “Not at all.”

“Are you sure?” Shigure was suddenly at his other side, wearing a Cheshire grin, “You weren’t thinking about anyone?”

“Yes.” Giving him a deadpan look, he flicked Shigure on the forehead. It was important to stop nonsensical thoughts from latching to his brain for too long—Hatori didn’t need to handle yet another one of his schemes. “Now, let’s get this over with. I still have patients to see.”

“Booooo,” Shigure pouted, rubbing his forehead. “That hurt.”

“Stop crying.” Rolling his eyes, Hatori stepped back in front of the mirror and spread his arms. “Ayame?”

“Of course!” Ayame skipped past Shigure, humming softly as he started to measure once more. “I’m glad you’re taking a break. You need it.”

Ayame’s tone was utterly soft, utterly kind, and Hatori relaxed. “This still sounds more like work than a break,” he replied, but the bite was out of his voice. He couldn’t help it—it was impossible to stay mad at his friends for long. However misguided their actions were, it was out of caring that they prodded him like they did.

And he was a lucky man to have so many people care for him.

Though, if they really cared, they’d learn how to rein in their behaviours more. Half of his problems would disappear.

“But, you’re right.” Hatori smiled back, shifting slightly as Ayame adjusted the cape on his shoulders. In the mirror, it looked rather roguish. “It’ll be fun to work with you two again.”

“Fun?” Shigure asked, smirking.

“Fun,” Hatori repeated. For all the headaches, the time he spent with them had always been enjoyable.

“Lots of fun,” Ayame agreed, wrapping an arm around Hatori’s shoulder as he examined their reflection in the mirror. Seemingly content with what he saw, he let go and went to grab the matching hat form where it’d been thrown haphazardly on a chair. “That reminds me, Yuki, yes that Yuki, has asked me to make his costume.”

“Yuki did?” Hatori almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes, isn’t it amazing! Our brotherly love has pushed through, connecting once more!” Ayame clutched the hat tightly and dabbed his eyes with the brim. “He came to me, tears in his eyes, and asked me to make it for him and his princess, Tohru.”

Shigure snickered as he chimed in, “And Kyo’s playing the horse.”

Hatori was about 90% certain that Shigure had a hand in that.

“He will be the most noble steed ever seen.” Ayame pumped his fist. Hatori could almost see waves crashing behind him. “For he is carrying my darling Yuki into battle. I have already started Yuki’s thirteen-layer suit, and the fifteen ruffles on Tohru’s dress. No one will have ever seen a greater—”

Hatori rubbed his forehead. Maybe after this vacation, he could get another one to relax from the first one.

[simmeons]

twelfth story for @badthingshappenbingo's bingo :)

characters; Leonard McCoy, James T Kirk, Spock, Montgomery Scott, Pavel Chekov, and random unnamed crew

words; 2,426

warnings; Scotty goes apeshit as per usual, getting mauled by an animal sorta it's. Scotty doing the mauling, descriptions of injuries, we talking about blood man, they use the word "hell", stalking/hunting (animal like sorta bc. bc Scotty is feral sea monster right guys yea)

prompt; Twisted Ankle

FYI; this is a mix of the mirror!scones AU/designs by @dilfoez and my personal sea monster!Scotty AU!! :) and going off The Animated Series, the fellas in TOS do in fact have a holodeck- they simply call it the rec room- so don't get confused :3

“Okay you two, I'm trusting you'll be able to do this together without having to use the damn thing.” Leonard McCoy handed Pavel Chekov a small remote- rectangular in shape, and gray in color. It had a few buttons, most of which weren't important.

The younger man gave a nod in understanding, a confident smile on his face. The chief of engineering wasn't too thrilled.

Montgomery Scott’s foot tapped impatiently as he stood waiting besides Chekov, his somewhat trimmed claws clanking against the metal flooring of the Sick Bay. “Do I seriously hafta wear this stupid thing?” He asked, gesturing to the collar wrapped tightly around his neck- a deep black that went against his colorful green scales.

“If you do the training like needed, then hopefully your friend here won't have to give you a shock.” The doctor replied, his tone flat and unimpressed. Normally he'd have the pleasure of controlling Scotty’s training programs, but the captain needed him for a stupid meeting, so Chekov volunteered. He'd much rather be laughing at Scotty failing to do trivial things, but he couldn't disobey the captain.

“Don't worry Mr Scott,” Chekov turned to look up at the taller and larger beast beside him. “This could be fun!”

The sea monster huffed, but he remained silent. He liked Chekov- the little lad was spunky and always ready to try and help, and honestly he was maybe a bit too pure for this job. He could be an ass when it was needed, but you could see the regret on his face later. His guilty conscience would be the reason he leaves Starfleet.

“Behave and we won't have problems.” McCoy summarized it for them, handing Chekov a little slate of data, a nice deep blue. “This is the program for today. Just go to the rec room, slip it in, and collect anything you see our friend demonstrating.”

“Easy enough!” The Russian said back, still optimistic. “Let's go Mr Scott, it's better to get it done and over with.” He added, hoping the good mood would potentially rub off on the engineer. It didn't however- he simply grumbled when Chekov turned on his heel and started walking the two of them down to the rec room.

With Chekov and Scotty leaving, McCoy grumbled as he gathered what he assumed would be needed for the meeting and he did his own departure, dragging his feet to the meeting room.

---------------------------

“I promise I won't shock you.” The younger man said to the engineer as they reached the rec room, the doors whooshing open as they stepped in. “I see no reason to! I know you don't want to do this, so I'm not going to make you even more upset.”

“That's something doctor McCoy will seemingly never understand.” The sea monster grumbled when the doors closed behind them, watching as Chekov went to a nearby panel and inserted the thick blue data chip into a slot.

The rec room changed from a bland, white and gray area turned into one that resembled a forest of sorts- the two of them in a clearing. Tall, verdant trees rose up around them, their leaves rustling gently in a simulated breeze. The ground beneath Scotty’s feet was soft, covered with a layer of green moss and fallen leaves. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor.

Chekov glanced around, taking in the sights and sounds of the fabricated forest. “I think they’ve done a great job with these simulations,” He remarked, his tone filled with some awe. “It’s almost like being on Earth.”

“Aye.” Scotty replied shortly, not too keen on chatting right now. He was proud of the rec room as an engineer- taking some pride out of knowing he frequently had to repair it a few times or add some tweaks, but he knew better than going on a tangent. Get this damn thing over with first then you can go off about engineering.

Chekov wasn't too sure what the simulation wanted from Scotty, but he knew McCoy had programmed them to always get harder the next day, so he figured the engineer knew exactly what to do. He stood towards the panel as the sea monster took a few steps more into the clearing, his fin-like ears twitching occasionally- listening. For what, though?

The ensign jumped in his skin with surprise when he watched some creature leap from the trees, pouncing on the chief engineer. Scotty handled it well, as he immediately shoved the simulated beast off, its form dissipating when it fell to the floor. Was this what McCoy was training Scotty for? How to fight?

It was made even more clear when another one lunged at Scotty, who swiftly moved out of the way just to whirl around and force it to the ground with a pounce of his own. Chekov felt like he was watching some Kaiju movie in real time, but downsized a considerable amount. Despite that, he made sure to watch and mentally note anything that might be interesting for the doctor.

---------------------------

"Alright, let's get this started," Kirk began, looking at the PADD in front of him. "We’ve received some intel that suggests we might encounter hostile forces in the next sector. Starfleet Command wants us to be prepared for any scenario."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, do we have any specifics on the nature of the threat?"

"Unfortunately, no. It's all very vague," The captain replied, his frustration evident. "But they're adamant that we proceed with caution. Don't want us to lose more people than necessary with these folk.”

"So, we're basically going in blind, again. What else is new?" The unenthusiastic doctor replied, his arms crossed.

Kirk shot McCoy a look, but there was a hint of an agreement in it. "It's not the first time, Bones. And probably not the last.”

"It would be logical to run additional tactical drills to ensure readiness. We should also increase security protocols, particularly in engineering and around key systems.” The Vulcan broke the human’s discussion with his strategic suggestion. The blonde looked at his first officer with a nod.

"Agreed. I want everyone on high alert. No surprises.”

Speaking of surprises- McCoy was momentarily distracted by his communicator going off. They were mostly used for away missions but it was best to keep them on at all times, but he was a bit frustrated to be called during a meeting of all things. Kirk and Spock’s attention was grabbed as well.

“You can answer it.” Kirk excused McCoy, knowing for a fact McCoy would ask for it.

The doctor hummed with acknowledgement as he flipped open his communicator, opening his mouth to speak but was immediately cut off.

“Doctor!” The usually chipper Chekov barked out through the handheld device. “Something's wrong with Scotty! He's acting like a wild animal!”

“What?” McCoy physically recoiled at the information, his brows knitting together. “What do you mean, Chekov? Did you try to-”

“Yes, yes! I tried everything! He was acting aggressive after your program and-” There was a pause, the man catching his breath. “I'm being chased in the rec room! Please, I need h-”

The man went quiet again, only the sound of his heavy breathing and the rustling of foliage around him coming through. Kirk and Spock made eye contact before the captain nodded, and the first officer was getting up and leaving the room.

“Chekov, are you okay?” Kirk leaned over closer to McCoy’s communicator, speaking into it.

“I think so. For now.” The ensign whispered, his accent thicker with the softer volume. “I seem to have lost him.”

“Bones.” The blonde spoke to McCoy, tone soft yet firm. “Get down there and control your experiment.”

Obeying the order McCoy sprang from his chair and bolted out of the room, leaving his communicator behind- he knew where Chekov was, and Kirk was better situated for helping someone through an emergency. A non medical one, at least.

Leaving the room, McCoy took a sharp left and bolted to turbolift, grabbing the small protruding handle from the wall (something Kirk had made several phallic jokes about) as he descended down the lift.

When the doors opened he heard a loud scream- and he immediately feared the worst. Running as fast as he could, pushing past people, the doctor ran down the hall until he got closer to the rec room. His feet stopped in their tracks when he arrived, heart dropping.

The rec room’s door was open, but the doctor was more focused on the sight of the sea monster hunched over a body, crimson blood flowing underneath it. It was obvious- it was Chekov, and God he wasn't going to make it. McCoy forced himself to immediately come to terms with it, even as he watched his body occasionally jerk, weak pleas falling from his lips.

McCoy was frozen with fear as he watched Scotty turn around, looking at the doctor. His remaining eye’s pupil was slit like a wild animal, unfocused and primal. His claws were stained with blood, and his mouth was as well- some of it dripping down his chin. Guilt settled in like a thick coat of smog, and he felt horrible. He shouldn't have trusted Chekov with this- but he thought it would've been more productive this way, considering Scotty was actually quite close to the ensign. They liked drinking and Scotty had in shorter terms- tried taking the man under his wing.

“Scotty,” McCoy tried his best to keep his voice calm, but it was a struggle. “Get away from him.”

The engineer wasn't swayed. He snarled, scales flaring up around his body as his body tensed up around his prey. Damn it all, the doctor just needed to get to Chekov, maybe he could try and save him.

“Come on, Scotty. Listen to me.” McCoy urged, his voice softer now, laced with desperation. Scotty didn't budge however, he just hunkered closer to the ground, looking like an animal ready to pounce.

The two of them held their position, so still a pen could be dropped and they'd hear it. Chekov kept struggling, his arms torn to hell by scratches and harsh bites but he was a fighter. His legs weakly tried to kick Scotty off, but the sea monster was too occupied with staring McCoy down.

A loud blaring alarm went off, red lights flashing around in the hallway as the Enterprise’s robotic voice warned the crew about a lock down. “Crew, please go to any room with a door and remain there until the lockdown is over. This is not a drill.”

Just as the Enterprise was about to repeat the order, Scotty lashed out, growling as his hands and feet scraped against the floor, claws clashing with metal. McCoy’s adrenaline was built up enough that when he saw the slightest movement he was ready- and he bolted.

He ran backwards, away from the crime scene, abandoning the poor ensign now that he had a raging sea monster on his tail. He needed to trap him somehow- get him isolated so he was away from Chekov so he could help him. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Scotty was keen on slowing down now. McCoy could only run for so long before would get tired- so he needed to think fast.

Running through the layout of this floor, McCoy started to formulate a plan. Thankfully for him, running with claws was pretty hard against metal, so Scotty was significantly slower, but he was still quick due to his digitigrade legs that came with his new form.

After another few heavy breaths, McCoy had a plan.

On the next approaching turn there was a turbolift- if McCoy was lucky, Scotty could somehow slip into it. It was such a dumb idea, one that was likely to fail, but McCoy had nothing else.

His feet thudded against the floor as kept running to the turn before he forcibly slid against the floor like a baseball player, forcing his feet forward to try and throw Scotty off. Due to his age however, McCoy stumbled a lot more than what he'd like to admit, hurting his ankle in the process. He had no time to think when he was on the floor, rolling over onto his stomach and looking up as the sea monster came barreling closer to the turn, hitting it just as hard.

Having no purchase on the floor as his body couldn't stop the sideways force from the turn, Scotty's hands and feet slipped up as the large beast slammed into the turbolift like dead meat, the momentum from the turn being too much for him to handle against the slippery flooring.

The doctor scrambled up, watching as the turbolift doors hissed closed, encasing the raging sea monster- who was growling and snarling through the door, clawing at it as it hummed upward to the upper floor. McCoy could only hope everyone had gotten into a room fast enough, because then that means Scotty would be completely alone. He'd be easier to deal with.

His ankle hurt like crazy- no doubt twisted to all hell, but McCoy forced himself up. He groaned with pain, but pushed through it as he hobbled back to Chekov.

[convenient-plot-device]

An essay I wrote for school on Strange New Worlds' problems with ableism, complete with bibliography:

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds has numerous problems, from its retooling of the Gorn into knockoff xenomorphs to its erasure of Spock’s Jewish roots to its overreliance on nostalgia, but its most glaring flaw is its painful undercurrent of ableism. The conflation of disability with death, the ignorance and tacit pardoning of eugenics, and the disposal of multiple disabled characters come together to weave a harmful and ignorant pattern in the show’s writing.

Christopher Pike’s character in Strange New Worlds is defined by disability. The dilemma he wrestles with in almost every episode is the looming specter of his future disability, which was revealed to him via time crystal in season two of Star Trek: Discovery. In the twelfth episode of season two, “Through The Valley of Shadows”, Pike must harvest a time crystal in order to send the life’s story of a dead alien to the future to protect it from an evil artificial intelligence intent on destroying all life in the galaxy. When Pike touches the crystal, he sees visions of his future, in which he is caught in a deadly radioactive explosion and left with severe burns and full body paralysis, able to move and communicate only through a specialized wheelchair. “The sequence ends with a final linked pair of nightmarish shots, a centred close-up of the older Pike’s face beginning to melt as he screams matched with the younger Pike’s own horrified scream as he falls backward into the present moment,” (Muredda, Angelo). As Muredda says later in the same article, this portrayal imagines disability as “a terminal point, something to scream about in terror, and the embodied sign of no liveable future at all.” The depiction of disability as a horrifying fate, and of the disabled body as an object of disgust and/or fear has a long history in the genres of horror and science fiction; previous and current Star Trek series are not immune to this. The Borg Queen, who appeared most recently in Picard, is missing most of her lower body and uses a robotic replacement to walk— her prosthetic spine is used as an object of horror and disgust when she first appears in First Contact (1996).

While Strange New Worlds had the opportunity to break this pattern and defy ableist stereotypes with Pike, they chose instead to follow the path Discovery had laid for them. Despite the fact that it is made very clear that Pike will be disabled, not killed, by the explosion he will be caught in in the future, every character within the narrative speaks of Pike’s fate as if he is going to die. Pike says, less than twenty minutes into the pilot: “I know how and when my life will end.” This writing decision mirrors the real-life belief that disabled peoples’ lives are akin to “a fate worse than death” or “not worth living,” a sentiment which has led to real deaths: “. . . [early in the pandemic] this belief — that we’re just surviving, not living, and thus have limited quality of life — lead to forced DNRs being put in the files of disabled people in the UK and lead directly to the death of a disabled man, Michael Hickson,” (Lloyd, Kelas). Hickson was denied treatment for pneumonia in Austin, Texas due to his doctor’s perception that he “didn’t have much of a quality of life.” He was put in hospice against his family’s wishes and died at the age of 46. (Shapiro, Joseph). For Strange New Worlds to equate Pike’s disability to the end of his life is irresponsible and reinforces the cultural biases that led to the death of Hickson and continue to impact the quality of treatment disabled people receive the world over.

Christopher Pike’s initial appearance in the original series episode “The Menagerie” was actually very progressive for the time; despite the limited communication of the blinking-light system in his wheelchair and his ending being living out the last of his life in a virtual reality where he could walk again, he was still a disabled person on television in a position of power.

When Pike first appeared, the Ugly Laws were still in place in much of the United States. Someone visibly disfigured/disabled was not to be seen in public spaces, at the risk of fines or jail . . . Captain Pike’s appearance in The Original Series was revolutionary. Here was not just a visibly disabled person, but they were someone Spock respected and cared about enough to risk his career for. [Disabled people] didn’t have a great existence, but they had one, and Pike was still valued as a person. (Lloyd, Kelas).

It would have been quite easy for the writers to modernize Pike’s portrayal to further disability representation in the way Pike first did: @hard-times-paramore has written an alternate ending (a mixed media series titled “The Captain’s Chair”) for Strange New Worlds in which Pike goes on to captain a new starship after becoming disabled, assisted by an interpreter, a caretaker, and futuristic medical technology. This alternate ending carries the message that disabled people are still people, who can and should be allowed a place in science fiction, as opposed to the current message sent by SNW, which is that significant disability is akin to a death sentence, even in a fantastical future.

However, there is more to Strange New Worlds’ portrayal of disability than just Captain Pike. The show is also very preoccupied with genetic augmentation and the Federation’s attitude toward it. While this is far from unique among Star Trek media, unlike other Trek properties which have covered this topic (Doctor Bashir, I Presume?, Chrysalis, Space Seed, Affliction/Divergence, etc) Strange New Worlds does not acknowledge the real-life equivalent to science fiction genetic augmentation: eugenics. SNW portrays genetic augmentation as a neutral practice targeted unjustly by the Federation because of outdated prejudices, with no examination of what genetic augmentation is a stand-in for. While the original series (in “Space Seed”) first introduced the Federation’s ban on genetic augmentation as a justified protective measure against the breeding of warlike “superior ambition” among men of “superior ability,” Strange New Worlds portrays genetic augmentation as an unjustly discriminated-against trait whose origin and consequences mean little to nothing.

Strange New Worlds’ main conduit for their genetic augmentation plotlines is Una Chin-Riley, the first officer of the Enterprise. She is a member of an alien species called Illyrians, who genetically modify themselves to suit the environments of planets they colonize. She herself was genetically modified as a baby, and is thus legally barred from joining Starfleet— however, she lied on her application to Starfleet Academy to get in. The plots revolving around her concern her arrest for violating Federation law and the subsequent trial, which is used as an extended metaphor for discrimination against, and the fight for civil rights for, marginalized groups. “Ad Astra Per Aspera,” the episode covering Una’s trial, is intentionally vague with its metaphor, to the point that just about any marginalized group could be represented by it. This episode is, on its face, fine. It argues against discrimination through allegory quite adeptly, discussing the concept of “passing” as part of a non-oppressed group and broaching the topic of systemic oppression. However, it has one glaring flaw in its base: the stand-in it chose for real-life oppression. Genetic modification, unlike other fantastical attributes that can be used to metaphorize oppression, has a bloody real-life history involving the deaths and sterilizations of millions of people. Strange New Worlds, however, appears ignorant of this fact: not once does the topic of eugenics come up in any of their episodes about genetic augmentation. Not once does the topic of disability come up, either. This is either an unwillingness to engage with the realities of what those who seek to change humanity’s genes have done and continue to do, a grave oversight, or mere ignorance. Whichever one it is, this omission of eugenics from the narrative of genetic augmentation is one that cannot be ignored. Its omission reads as a tacit endorsement of genetic augmentation at times, such as when Una and La’An say, in “Ghosts of Illyria”:

LA’AN: All my life I've hated augments. Hated what people thought of me because I was related to them. Understanding why they were outlawed in the Federation. The damage they did. They almost destroyed Earth.

UNA: [. . .] My people were never motivated by domination. Illyrians seek collaboration with nature. By bioengineering our bodies, we adapt to naturally-existing habitats. Instead of terraforming planets, we modify ourselves. And there's nothing wrong with that.

By ignoring the part eugenics plays in Star Trek’s portrayal of augmentation, and instead portraying the issue as a matter of prejudice based off of the fictional event of the Eugenics Wars— when augmented “supermen” became dictators and killed millions in conquest and war— Strange New Worlds completely fails to examine the real-life implications of their metaphor.

What makes this episode’s flaws worse is that another Star Trek series already portrayed the potential expulsion of a genetically augmented person from Starfleet, handling it with better understanding of the eugenic undertones of genetic augmentation, and it did so in 1997. In the season five episode of Deep Space Nine, “Doctor Bashir, I Presume?”, it is revealed that Julian Bashir, chief medical officer of Deep Space Nine, was illegally genetically modified by his parents as a small child and is in danger of being thrown out of Starfleet because of this revelation. Throughout the course of the episode, the audience learns that Bashir’s parents chose to modify him because he was intellectually disabled as a child. His mother believed that his life would be better if he were “normal,” while his father wanted a successful son and believed that intellectual disability was inimical to that end. The episode expresses, through Julian’s anger at his parents, that modifying a person to rid them of perceived “undesirable traits” is wrong, but that it is also wrong to unilaterally bar people from Starfleet based on a decision that was made for them by eugenicist parents. This message is far more clear than “Ad Astra Per Aspera”’s, especially on the subject of disability and eugenics. Strange New Worlds’ complete neutrality on and/or tacit approval of genetic augmentation/eugenics, in contrast to Deep Space Nine’s nuanced examination of the topic, is glaring.

The specific problem with Strange New Worlds’ neutrality on genetic modification is that for a species to be changed on a genetic level for any reason, traits must be eliminated. In a science fiction setting, this can be accomplished by simply changing the genetic structure of a consenting adult with a futuristic medical tool, rather than through violence as in our reality, but this, too, presents ethical problems. What is considered a problem to be cured? Who makes that decision? What happens to those who don’t want something modified out of them? What happens to any children they may have? Who gets to have control over technology with the power to eliminate or introduce genetic traits at will? What place do disabled people have in a society built off of achieving peak physical performance in a given environment? Strange New Worlds attempts to answer none of these questions. It acknowledges none of them. And this silence leaves disabled people out of the conversation completely by not even considering them. Today, in Denmark and Iceland, almost 100% of fetuses with Down Syndrome are aborted; the law in Iceland even specifically states that abortion is permitted after 16 weeks only if the fetus has a “deformity,” which Down Syndrome is specified to count as. (Quinones, Julian; Lajka, Arijeta). An entire anti-vaccine movement was begun in Britain because parents were so afraid of having a child with autism and chronic digestive disease, a child like me, that they risked their children dying of measles. This is what real-life genetic engineering looks like, and Strange New Worlds has failed to acknowledge that. I, at least, consider that a failure of writing, empathy, and allyship.

Strange New Worlds’ portrayal of disability is not relegated to Pike’s fate and Una’s augmentation, however. The show has several other characters who either are disabled or become disabled at one point. Rukiya, Dr. M’Benga’s daughter, is treated less as a character and more as an object for the emotional development of her father, a position many young disabled girls occupy in fiction. “[This story] centers Dr. M’Benga, and his pain, and his struggle, and doesn’t grapple with what Rukiya’s going through.” (Lloyd, Kelas). Rukiya has an untreatable terminal cancer, and is kept in a state of suspension in the transporter buffer by her father while he searches for a cure. Her story ends when the Enterprise enters a sentient telepathic nebula with the power to warp reality, and it offers to keep Rukiya within itself so that her disease will not progress and she will be able to grow up. M’Benga decides that this is the best option, and so relinquishes Rukiya to the nebula. She is never seen again. “She is disabled, and then she’s removed . . . The disabled person was put into [a] box and left behind, like so many disabled people have been put away in care homes and institutions and left behind.” (Lloyd, Kelas). Jax agreed, saying: “It just felt like she was poofed away for convenience. Like, ‘There! The problem is gone! The terminal illness or the girl? Both! Don’t worry about it!’”

The only other disabled main character on SNW is Hemmer, who is a member of a blind species called the Aenar. “While the Aenar cannot see, they believe that their telepathy gives them a ‘superior’ awareness of their surroundings compared to sighted people (Vrvilo, 2022). Because of this, the Aenar are highly criticized by the disability community as falling into the ‘magically disabled’ trope.” (Harris, Heather Rose). Bruce Horak, the actor who plays Hemmer, is blind himself, which is a genuinely good decision in terms of representation and support for the disabled community. However, Hemmer dies in the penultimate episode of season one. This decision was not received well by disabled fans: “It just kind of felt like a kick in the teeth. I finally found some good disability representation played by a disabled actor [who] isn’t a one off character, and they die in the first season.” (Jax). Both Hemmer and Rukiya are left behind by the narrative of Strange New Worlds, and with them, so too are disabled perspectives. The crew of the Enterprise is now entirely able-bodied, and the only remaining character whose story directly concerns disability is Pike, who repeatedly asserts that his life will end once he becomes disabled. This state of affairs is the embodiment of being spoken for, and being spoken over.

There is a saying in the disabled community: “Nothing about us without us.” This saying means that abled people should not attempt to help, treat, or speak about disabled people without involving disabled people in their efforts. Disabled people are often denied autonomy over their bodies, medical care, relationships, and lives; to deny them a part in operations meant to help them is to further deny them dignity and respect. This is what Strange New Worlds is doing by writing disabled stories with no disabled writers in the room— while they did well by casting Bruce Horak to play Hemmer, it is not enough to have disabled people in front of the camera. They must also play a part in writing, directing, planning, and all other work behind the scenes if Strange New Worlds wishes to tell their stories. In order for Strange New Worlds to rectify their pattern of ableism, they must listen to disabled voices.

BIBLIOGRAPHY: