#Literally ALL of the Time Lords(Rani. The Master. The Doctor. The Griff!ster.) are having some kind of identity crisis in this fic.

[deathxproof-archive]

Here’s the thing: I knew if my roommate, boyfriend, and I wrote fanfic or something together it would be something strange and beautiful and terrible. Every so often we bounce this one idea back and forth that took a Development last night, and I’ll be remiss if I don’t TRY to write it down:

The Rani is still kicking. She’s fine— She has a few different little robot companion types, a few little pets, and a rotating cast of people to tinker with and fuck up. Recently, she goes “huh, you know who I kind of miss?[neg] The Master. What a little bitch. He’s probably aggressively easy to genetically recreate.”.

The Doctor and the Master are off having a little bitch off somewhere. TARDISes parked somewhere else. Sick. The Master’s TARDIS is presumably abandoned in the Rani’s head, and the Doctor’s was convenient to locate alongside it. Rani takes them. She DOES recreate the Master, in a way. He’s got his own face and something definitely went wrong. This man is a cartoon villain going through an identity crisis. This man is loaded with memories and trauma that isn’t exactly his own while he Learns How To Do. He’s also Griffin McElroy. Something went wrong. Meet the Griff!ster.

He both leaves and sort of is let go by the Rani when she’s like “oh you came out wrong. and I DO still hate your company even when you’re not a clone. neat. you can leave.” He does. Presumably with the Master’s TARDIS. The Griff!ster then happens upon two human men who’s brother is on vacation. He doesn’t quite adopt them, but Justin and Travis also don’t… Leave him alone. The Griff!ster wants to do something fucked up and evil for his own sake, and Justin and Travis redirect him in a desperate attempt to keep people safe, but also Let This Guy Cook: Hey man, what if we just like… Turn Chicago into a giant ball pit?

Meanwhile the Doctor and the Master are just… In Heathrow Airport (and other various airports and bus stops). In one of the worst human inventions ever: airports and commercial airplanes. Time is moving slowly and linearly and everything keeps getting delayed and redirected. They are now exhausted in a way they’ve never experienced, and going a little insane, and are entirely reliant on the other to keep from doing that so they can go and retrieve their fucking time machines. They have to talk.

We haven’t gotten to the solutions part yet HOWEVER. Roommate and I are both fully committed to actually writing this even as a little house project. I’m so tickled by it.