#perhaps the poor spaceman will open up about it some day

[solletichi]

Self-Improvement

okay so i havent tortured kokichi in a long time and i had this WONDERFUL idea where basically kokichi wants to start lying less and stuff to get shuichi to like him more (bc i love oumasai) so he asks miu for help, and miu ends up making him a uniform that tickles him whenever he lies or is a brat or WHATEVER and yeah so enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~

“This is stupid.”

“Hey! Don’t call my invention stupid! It’s pure genius!”

“You made a shirt that’ll tickle me whenever I lie? What do you think I am, five?”

“Listen up shota!” Miu lifted her goggles up from her face, stepping away from her workbench. “You wanted something that’ll stop you from lying so you can impress Shuichi and this is what I came up with!”

Kokichi glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, which Miu practically shoved him into. Appearance-wise, it looked exactly like his usual shirt, as it was made from one of his spare uniforms. However, lining the inside of the shirt were dozens of feathers and even miniature claws, ready to launch into action at any time. And to make it even worse, it was programmed so that only Miu could take it off of him.

“How does this thing even work?” he asked curiously.

“The shirt is activated by this remote right here, so that the person controller it can remotely tickle you every time you misbehave!” She held up a small, grey remote with a single switch on it. “It’s a homemade masochism machine, gyahaha! It’s perfect for you!” she sneered, cackling.

“Sooo... you’ll just activate this shirt whenever you feel like it?” he questioned. “No offense, but I don’t trust a pea-brained bitchlet like you to control something like this.”

“Well it’s a good thing I’m not gonna be the one controlling it!” she smirked.

“Yeah, yeah... Wait, what?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking on the door to Miu’s lab.

“Miu? Kokichi? Are you guys in there?” the voice asked. The door creaked open and in came Kaito, who grinned once he saw the other two. “There you guys are!”

Kokichi whipped his head around and glared at Miu, causing her to smirk even wider. He pulled her to the side, whispering to her.

“You did not rope him into this!”

“Relax! He’s around Poo-ichi all the time, so he’ll be there to stop you from lying in front of him!”

Kokichi sighed, rubbing his temples. Miu’s reasoning did make sense, but having Kaito be the one in control... This was going to be interesting...

“Fine!” Kokichi whispered before turning around to walk back over to Kaito, with Miu following him.

“Thanks for helping us out with this!” Miu cheered, beyond herself with excitement.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he smirked, looking at Kokichi.

Miu tossed the remote over to Kaito while Kokichi sulked. “Here, catch!”

Kaito caught the remote and held it in his hand, observing it.

“Mind if I test it out?” he positioned his thumb over the switch, preparing to turn it on.

“Go ahead!” Miu leaned back on her desk, preparing herself for the show.

Kaito switched the remote on, activating the shirt. Immediately, Kokichi was attacked with tickles from all angles as the shirt worked its magic.

“PFT- AHAHAHAHAHA!” Kokichi doubled over with laughter, clutching his sides. Feathers wiggled under his arms and on his stomach, paying special attention to the area in and around his navel. Meanwhile, tiny claws squeezed at his hips and sides, as well as drumming into his ribs. The sensation was intense and visceral, like electric shocks coursing throughout his entire body.

“Ha! This is amazing!” Kaito spoke over Kokichi’s crazed cackles. “Who knew Kokichi was so ticklish!”

“Hell yes! It works!” Miu shouted triumphantly.

“P-PLEHEAHEAZE!” Kokichi felt his body growing weaker, and he could do little but laugh as his torment continued. “NAHAHAHAHA!”

Reluctantly, Kaito pressed the switch back on the remote, turning the shirt off for now. Kokichi just stood there panting, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Hah... That was torture...”

“You better not be a brat or I’ll tickle ya for twice as long!” Kaito said confidently, holding the remote up. Kokichi winced.

“Well, off you go!” Miu was surprisingly quick to shove the two of them out of her lab. “Let me know if you need anything!” Shutting the door in their faces, she left Kaito and Kokichi alone to go about the rest of their day.

As soon as they had been shoved out of Miu’s lab, Kokichi immediately tried to make a run for it, but Kaito grabbed him by the arm before he could go anywhere.

“Not so fast!” Kokichi pouted in response. “What do you say we go get lunch? Shuichi and Maki Roll are waiting for me.”

“Oh great, I’d love to spend my afternoon with you and your loser friends.” Kokichi complained. “Sounds exciting.”

Kaito promptly switched the remote on, sending Kokichi into hysterics once more.

“FAHAHACK! OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAY I’M SOHOHOREEE!” Kokichi cried. Heeding his apology, Kaito switched the remote off.

“Any other smart comments you wanna make?” Kaito kept his thumb on the switch as a silent threat. Kokichi shook his head, gathering his composure.

“Good. Now let’s go.”

Kaito and Kokichi made their way to the cafeteria, mostly walking in silence. That was, until they ran into Kiibo.

“Sup, Kiibo?” Kaito greeted.

“Hello. Where are you two going?” Kiibo responded.

“We’re heading to the dining hall to grab some lunch! Wanna come?” Kaito offered.

“I would, but... I don’t have the ability to eat. Professor Idabashi didn’t equip me with that function.” Kiibo said sadly.

Kokichi scoffed, giggling a bit to himself. “Poor Kiiboy! Guess that just proves that...” He cut himself off, noticing the way that Kaito was smirking at him. Kokichi gulped.

“Hm? What was that, Kokichi?” Kiibo asked.

“Yeah, Kokichi...” Kaito teased. “What were you saying?”

Backed into a corner, Kokichi had no choice but to say something next. Given that he couldn’t lie or insult Kiibo, there were little options as to what he could say.

“Uh... I said, why don’t you come with us anyway, Kiibo? We would... love to have you with us...?” Kokichi stammered glancing at Kaito for approval.

Kiibo hesitated with his response, clearly having been expecting a robophobic comment. “I wish I could, but I’m scheduled for maintenance in Miu’s lab. Next time, perhaps.” Kiibo looked towards the small remote that Kaito was still holding. “What is that device that you’re holding?”

“Oh, this? It’s, uh...”

“It’s the detonator for a bomb I hid somewhere in the school! I gave it to Kaito so he could take the blame for the explosion!” Kokichi said excitedly, before realizing that he just doomed himself.

“What?! Now that has to be a lie, Kokichi!” Kiibo pointed accusingly at him.

“W-Wait! That’s not what I meHEHEANT!! EEYAHAHAHAHA!” Kokichi started cackling once more as Kaito flicked the switch on, but fortunately he switched it back off after only a few seconds.

“Um, Kokichi...? What’s so funny?” Kiibo asked, clearly confused.

“N-Nothing! I mean...” Kokichi pondered his options mentally before settling on the safest one. “See ya, Kiiboy!” He bolted off towards the cafeteria, with Kaito soon following after he gave Kiibo a small wave.

Kaito chuckled once he caught up with Kokichi, “Is it really that hard for you to not harass Kiibo?”

“Yes. God I wanted to insult him so bad.” Kokichi confessed, surprisingly honest.

The two of them walked a little more before arriving at the dining hall, where Shuichi and Maki were waiting. Kirumi was also there, serving them food as diligently as always.

Kaito waved to them, “Hey guys! I hope you don’t mind, but I brought Kokichi with me!”

In response to seeing Kokichi, Maki scowled, while Shuichi just laughed a bit nervously. They sat down across from Maki and Shuichi, while Kirumi placed down a plate of mini sandwiches.

“I, uh, didn’t expect you two of all people to be hanging out together...” Shuichi stammered.

“Since when are you two friends?” Maki narrowed her eyes at the two of them.

A mixture of half-assed excuses came from both boys, equally frazzled in their attempts to cover up the truth. At least Kaito hid the remote in his pocket this time, so that it wasn’t visible. At least not to the others.

Kokichi, however, could clearly see the remote, only inches away from his hand. Screw trying to lie less... if he could grab that remote, he could say all the mean things that he wants! He waited until Kaito was adequately distracted, and then...

He carefully plucked the remote out of Kaito’s pocket and closed his fist around it. Kokichi grinned to himself, having successfully completed this operation.

“...What are you smiling about?” Maki directed her question at Kokichi, who in turn smiled even wider.

“Is the killer girl worried about me? How adorable!” Kaito searched his pocket for the remote but it was nowhere to be found. Kokichi smirked. “And here I was, thinking you had no heart!”

Checking his other pocket and doing a quick scan of the area around him, it didn’t take Kaito long to realize that the remote had been stolen.

“Looking for this?” Kokichi held the remote just out of Kaito’s reach, snickering when he tried but failed to grab it.

“Kokichi! Give that back!” The two bickered, ignoring Shuichi and Maki’s confused questions of what it was that Kokichi was holding.

“No can do, spaceman!” Kokichi stood up from the table, closing the remote in his fist again. “See ya!”

Before Kokichi could sprint off, Kaito stood up and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him towards him. Being considerably stronger, Kaito was able to force Kokichi’s hand open and grab the remote, switching it on as soon as possible.

“AH! GAHAHAHAHA NOOO!” Kokichi yelped as the shirt got back to work, tickling him with renewed vigor. “SHIHIHIHIT NAHAHAHAHA!”

“Ha! That’s what you deserve you little shit!” Kaito said proudly, holding the remote up in the air.

“Kaito...? What is that thing?” Shuichi asked, speaking more than enough for him and Maki, both of them bewildered and confused.

“Oh! This is a remote that Miu made! When you switch it on it tickles the crap outta Kokichi!”

“And you had it because...?”

“Miu wanted me to turn it on every time Kokichi lied or was being annoying...” he glanced at Kokichi, who was clutching at his stomach, doubled over with laughter. Kaito smirked when Kokichi’s knees buckled and he fell to the ground. “I’d say it’s working pretty well.”

“GAHAHAHAHAD MAHAHAKE IHIHIT STOHOHOP!” Kokichi practically screeched. “I’M SOHOHOREEHEE!!”

“Alright, that’s enough. I guess I should- oof!” As Kaito turned around he bumped into Kirumi, who was carrying a tray of drinks. A few glasses of water spilled onto his arm and on the remote, causing it to short-circuit.

“...Uh oh.”

“My apologies. I will fetch towels for the both of us. Excuse me.”

Kaito wasn’t even thinking about the water that was spilled on him. All he could focus on was...

“BWAHAHAHAHA FUHUHUHUCK EHEEHEEHEE!” Kokichi was kicking and squirming, flailing like a madman on the ground. The others watched in awe, too shocked to figure out what to do. Eventually, the tickling abruptly stopped, leaving Kokichi in a haze of shivers and after giggles.

Panting quite heavily, he stood up on shaky legs, muttering curse words under his breath.

“Gotta... f-find Miu... get me out of this thing...” Kokichi wobbled out of the cafeteria, off to get Miu to help him out of the shirt.

Meanwhile, Kaito, Shuichi and Maki continued their lunch, trying to ignore the spectacle they had just witnessed. Eventually, Kirumi returned with towels, and the trio went on with their day, completely forgetting about the incident.

[raywritesthings]

His Reward

My Writing Fandom: Doctor Who Characters: Tenth Doctor, Donna Noble, Eleventh Doctor, Wilfred Mott, Sylvia Noble, Shaun Temple Pairing: Doctor/Donna Summary: The metacrisis energy would kill anyone who was hit with it, anyone who tried to absorb it. And he was a dead man walking. The Doctor finds a way to do so much more before he regenerates. For @phoebemaybe AO3 link

The Doctor was unsure how exactly he managed to focus on anything other than the pain enough to pilot the TARDIS away from Naismith Manor. Perhaps it was the wretched, guilt-stricken looks Wilfred Mott kept giving him on the other side of the Time Rotor. He could tell the old human was barely holding back from tears, and that made shame all his own churn in his gut.

After everything that had happened to Donna, and just now having to witness his impotent rage and selfishness, yet all Wilf had done when he’d come out of the radiation booth was hug him. There he’d been, moments before, demanding a reward for everything he’d been through. Yet the truth was he didn’t deserve it. Not after everything he’d done.

No, perhaps it truly was time for a change. Once more unto the breach, old Will Shakespeare would say. There was no telling what he would do with this last remaining life, all on his own with no one to stop him. That’s what terrified him.

But there was no way of preserving this face this time — and what a costly mistake it had been to do so the first time. Donna had paid the price for his vanity, and his hearts had paid dearly in return. The guilt that plagued his every waking and sleeping thought was the one thing he felt certain would carry over to his next regeneration. He couldn’t imagine not turning the same recriminations and what-ifs over in his head for the rest of his days

The TARDIS landed, and the Doctor slowly followed Wilfred to the door. It would be wrong not to see him off, even if he didn’t intend for this to be their last meeting.

Sylvia Noble was already coming out of the house, and, for the first time he could remember, looked happy. “Oh, she's smiling. As if today wasn't bad enough. Anyway, don't go thinking this is goodbye, Wilf. I'll see you again, one more time.”

The old human looked back round. “What do you mean? When's that?”

“Just keep looking. I'll be there,” he promised. He’d just have to hold out a little longer until he could arrange everything properly. A little bit of timestream crossing, though not his. Even if it involved his timestream, he would do it. He owed that much to Donna. The Doctor wanted to smile just at the thought of her face once she got the gift he had planned.

Wilfred was still watching him with concern. “Where are you going?”

“To get my reward,” he answered simply.

The Doctor turned back to his ship and allowed a brief spasm of pain to flicker across his features out of Wilf’s sight, but was still moving slow enough that he heard Sylvia’s frantic chattering.

“Oh, dad, thank God you’re back. I’ve no idea what happened! One minute Donna was there, then she was gone and that- that thing was in the sky! Shaun found her out on the street. She’s only just woken up.”

He paused, his hand raised to push on the police box doors. So his defence mechanism had held up as planned. A safe expelling of just a fraction of the metacrisis energy stored in her head. Any more and it might have killed her, or whoever had been unfortunate enough to receive the blast.

His hand slid down the wood and then off completely, falling limply to his side. The metacrisis energy would kill anyone who was hit with it, anyone who tried to absorb it.

And he was a dead man walking.

The Doctor looked back over his shoulder. “Wilfred.”

Sylvia had been pulling him towards the house, but at the sound of his voice the old human stopped. “Doctor?”

“Remember how I said you’d see me again?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The Doctor shuffled back around. “Hello. Mind if I come in?”

Wilf was already taking coming forward to help as he staggered a few paces away from the TARDIS. Sylvia, however, placed herself square in his path.

“What? He can’t! Donna’s just woken up. You said she can’t see you!”

“I changed my mind,” he replied flippantly.

“You said it would kill her!” She hissed at him.

“It’ll kill somebody,” he amended.

Wilf’s eyes widened, and he placed a hand on Sylvia’s arm, guiding her out of the way. “Doctor, are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

He met the man’s gaze squarely. “Make her better.”

He shuffled his slow and steady way into the house, Wilf hovering right at his elbow. Donna and her fiancé were in the sitting room, by the sounds of it.

“Mr. Mott,” the man he’d seen out of the cafe window greeted. Then his eyes fell on him. “Er, hello.”

He more or less grunted a greeting as he moved past him. The Doctor didn’t much feel like sparing pleasantries for strangers today. Not when someone far more important and dear to him was in the room.

Donna looked over the back of the settee. “What, we have company now, too? Hey, you’re that friend of Gramps’,” she realized, a mockery of recognition in her eyes. How could he have ever done this to her? “John Smith, wasn’t it?”

“That’s right.” He lowered himself gingerly to perch on the coffee table, barely holding in a groan as his body protested. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.” She shrugged. “You’re not looking too hot yourself.”

He grimaced. Donna always saw right through him. “Well, only one of us passed out in the street today.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated dismissively. “Just kipped out on the settee. Sort of like last time, I suppose. You must think I’ve got some kind of disorder or something,” she said with a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It wasn’t real. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this! I’m fine, seriously.”

“Really? Your grandfather said you were going on about giant wasps earlier.”

Donna frowned. “Giant wasps? I—” She paused, something flashing behind her eyes. “I was, wasn’t I? I’d forgotten, but I was...I was out on the street and there was this man. He was everywhere.”

She hunched forward, one hand going to her forehead. He caught her in his arms.

“It’s alright, Donna, it’s going to be alright.”

“My head!” She gasped.

“What have you done? What are you doing to her?” Shaun reached for her over the back of the settee, but Donna waved her fiancé off.

She looked up, right at him. “I’ve seen you before. And not the last time.”

“You have,” he admitted.

“All this past year I’ve kept thinking, there’s something missing,” she confessed in a hushed voice. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

A lump rose in the Doctor’s throat and he couldn’t seem to speak around it.

“It is you. Why did I — how did I forget you? Who are you? Oh God, it hurts!”

“Donna!” Sylvia cried. He ignored her.

“Hello, Donna Noble. I’m the Doctor. And I’m so sorry.” The Doctor brought his hands to her temples and closed his eyes.

Every nerve in his body cried out at the fresh assault of burning, searing pain. He could feel the golden energy slowly siphoning from her to him, creating a very volatile cocktail indeed. This regeneration was going to be a big one. He’d have to hope the TARDIS could contain it.

Donna gave a great, shuddering breath and he opened his eyes to see her staring at him. And there was just something right in that green-eyed gaze. “Spaceman?”

“There she is,” he said, smiling through the pain. It could be a million times worse than this and he would still be smiling.

“What are you—” Her eyes widened. Oh, she really was so clever. “No. No, Doctor, you can’t!”

“Welcome back.”

The transfer completed, and his eyes rolled up as he fell backwards. He didn’t even register hitting the coffee table.

—-

Donna awoke on the settee for the second time that day feeling even more disoriented than before. Half of her expected to be there on the TARDIS, like the whole last year back home was just a bad dream. In a way, it both was and wasn’t.

“Donna, please wake up,” her mother’s voice was urging. Was she crying?

“Sweetheart?” That one was Gramps.

And the Doctor? What had happened to the Doctor?

Donna’s eyes snapped open and she pushed herself up. He was sprawled on his back on the coffee table, his eyes slowly blinking open. So he was okay. God, she hopes he was okay.

“Donna?” Her granddad asked hesitantly. “Are you back with us, love?”

She looked to him. “Yeah, Gramps. All back.”

“Well- well hey!” He gave a startled laugh, swooping in to hug her. Donna held on tight, shaking and a little giddy. She felt so present, so grounded, more than she had for the entire last year. “He did it! He said he was gonna, and he got your memories back! I knew he could do it!”

Donna nodded, clutched at her grandfather, and tried to reign in her tears.

“I’m back, I’m back,” she repeated. It felt so good to say. She felt whole again. Maybe not quite the DoctorDonna — when she tried to search for those nine-hundred years she’d never lived, she could find nothing — but her.

“Donna, what the hell just happened?” Said a man on her right, and it was like he was calling to her down a long tunnel, familiar yet strangely distant to her mind. She pulled away from her grandfather and looked up at him.

“Shaun!” Donna’s eyes darted down to her left hand. She was engaged, again. To some poor sod who would barely recognize her now! The real her, anyway. “I — I can’t really explain.”

“What do you mean?” He was looking at her, confused and scared. He’d never understand, would he?

“Well it — it’s sort of alien,” she began, glancing back to her left — where had the Doctor gone?

“Alien?” Shaun echoed. Donna barely heard him.

“Doctor? Doctor!” He must have slipped out of the room in all the confusion. She should’ve realized! Was he ever that quiet? Something was wrong.

She stood up, slipping the ring off her finger and placing it into his palm. “I’m sorry.”

“Donna!” Her mother cried in dismay.

Shaun looked up at her. “But, why?”

“Cause it wouldn’t be right to you,” she said. “Just trust me. I have to go.”

“On Christmas?” That was her mum again.

“Go on, Donna,” her grandfather urged. “He needs you. Said it himself!”

“See you!” She called, hurrying out of the room. There was no time to get her things; by the time she made it out the front door he was nowhere to be seen on the street. The TARDIS was still parked across from the house, and she ran for it.

Donna just got the door shut behind her when the wheezing of the ship dematerializing started up. “Oi!”

Her Martian leaned to the side of the Time Rotor to spot her. “Donna?” He watched her march up the ramp with steadily widening eyes. “No, no, no, Donna, stay back. It’s not safe, you shouldn’t be here!”

She halted just a few feet around the console from him, hand on her hip. “Were you seriously going to just leave without me?”

He stared at her, seemingly thrown. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me again. After what I did.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna learn that you can’t keep deciding what I do or don’t want. Especially when I am telling you exactly what I want already!” She glared at him, but when all he did was nod miserably before a hiss of pain escaped his lips, she felt her own anger melt away.

“What did you go and do? I didn’t want to kill you.”

“You didn’t. I was already dying,” he told her. “It’s been a hell of a Christmas. Wilf can tell you the whole thing.”

“I’m gonna ask you as soon as you’re better,” she insisted. “You don’t get rid of me that easily, Martian.”

“I’m not exactly getting better, Donna,” he reminded.

“Maybe not how we’d both like,” she admitted quietly. “But listen, I may not remember everything about being the DoctorDonna, but I remember being that. And I know what I said before is still true. Your mind, Doctor, it doesn’t change. And it’s the best part of you.” She stepped forward again, and, when he didn’t immediately bat her away, took his hands. “It doesn’t matter to me what you look like. I said forever.”

“Oh Donna.” A smile wavered on his lips. “There’s something I’ve wanted to say to you, for a long time now. The longer you were gone the more I couldn’t bare having not told you. And now, here you are.” He gave a sniff, and she was shocked to realize there were tears in his eyes. “I didn’t think I’d have a chance like this, even if I won’t be me anymore. I’m afraid that I won’t, once I’ve changed — or maybe I just don’t want him to be the first to say it.”

“Say what?” She asked softly.

The Doctor glanced down once, then met her eyes. “That I love you.”

Donna sucked in a sharp breath. His hands slipped from her grasp.

“There we go. Ruined it good and proper now.” He was smiling, but it was so sad. “Listen, whatever happens you just tell the next me to take you home.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I — well, I love you, Donna.” He said it so easily the second time, like it was just a simple fact. She supposed it was. All this time...it just wasn’t fair.

Donna couldn't keep her voice from trembling as she asked, “And you think I don’t?”

She pressed a hand over her mouth as soon as the words left it. His face went through a whole range of emotions; shock, disbelief, hope, until settling on a sort of wonder.

“Well...isn’t that wizard?”

Donna gave something halfway between a laugh and a sob. The Doctor looked about to do the same before tensing up.

“It’s time.”

Her vision was starting to blur. Donna blinked furiously to clear it; he needed her to be strong now. They would get through this. She didn't want to leave him, but she knew it was for her own safety that she back away.

But first...Donna rose up on her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. The Doctor released a shaky breath, hands clenched at his sides. The longer he prolonged this, the longer he would be in pain. She had to let him go.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“No.” He shook his head. “I thought there was so much more for me to do — but this. This, Donna Noble, this was what the universe was waiting on me for.” He was smiling down at her; he was happy. “My reward, the most important woman in all creation back where she's supposed to be. I’m ready to go now.”

Donna nodded, backing away as his hands started glowing with the golden light of regeneration. “I’ll be right here, Spaceman,” she managed to get out. Even if she would never see this version of him again, it didn't matter. She believed what she'd said. The Doctor was the Doctor. And she loved him.

At least they’d said it.

He kept his eyes on her until the last possible moment. “To the best of times, Donna Noble.”

His face began to glow and it grew so bright that she had to shield her eyes. And even then, it grew brighter.

The Doctor threw his head back and was completely engulfed in the light She felt the tears spill over as she squeezed her eyes shut. The energy that healed him also was hurting him, and there was nothing she could do except watch as it finally exploded outwards from his hands and face.

Donna looked about in alarm as the golden light hit the console, the ceiling, and one of the coral struts, catching all it touched on fire. Sparks flew from the controls and somewhere else glass shattered. There was no way that was supposed to happen! The TARDIS couldn't be safe like this, but they'd taken off, hadn’t they?

And then someone was screaming. No, not someone. The Doctor was screaming. An entirely different-sounding scream than she’d ever heard from him.

The light receded and standing there in Spaceman’s suit was a younger man. A very young and odd-looking man. His hair was still brown, but longer, and it flopped into his eyes — but those eyes weren’t young at all, were they? Even as they gazed about with a fresh wonder and excitement.

“Donna!” He pointed at her and she jumped. “Still got Donna! And legs!” He hoisted a knee in the air, pressing his lips to it for a brief moment. “Good. Arms. Hands. Ooh fingers, lots of fingers. We’re in business now, Donna!”

Donna blinked. Was he seriously doing a checklist to make sure he still had all the right bits?

He was running his hands down his face now. “Ears, yes. Eyes, two. Nose, I've had worse. Chin, blimey. Hair—”

He froze, pawing at the longer strands.

“I’m a girl!” He exclaimed, voice about two octaves higher than before. He whirled about on his heels, eyes wide as saucers. “Donna, am I a girl?”

“No!” She gaped at him. “Can that happen?”

“Yes. Ginger?”

“Excuse you?”

He had already turned away, staring at his reflection in a shiny bit of the console that hadn’t caught flame yet. “Still not ginger? Again?”

“Oi!”

He staggered backwards on his new legs like a fawn. “Ha! Donna, yes! Brilliant Donna, important Donna, gorgeous Donna!” He was nearly on her in two bounds, then took her face in both hands and laid a great, smacking kiss on her forehead. “I’m missing something, aren’t I, Donna? You can tell me what it is. You’re clever, you are!”

She hardly registered a word he’d said. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Yes. No.” He leapt back a foot, hand scratching at his cheek. “Er, not exactly, but in a manner of speaking yes. Sorry. New body, you there, my whole brain went ‘what the hell?’” He finished rambling and beamed at her. “Am I less skinny this time?”

“What?”

“It’s just, generally speaking, you seem to like—” He was cut off by a great bang as something exploded on the console, and the whole ship lurched to the side. Donna clung to the railing which was steadily getting hotter and hotter to the touch and could only watch as he tumbled to his hands and knees. One of the trouser legs split. “What was that?”

“We’re crashing, you alien dumbo!”

He’d pulled himself up by the monitor screen and stared at the Circular Gallifreyan flashing across it. “Crashing!”

He was on his feet in an instant, face alight and joy in his voice. He grabbed for her again, wrapping her in a hug that lifted her off her feet as he spun them around. Donna yelped and he laughed.

“Ha-ha!” He set her back on the grating and spun away, jacket bunching at the shoulders and straining a bit across the chest.Trim, he still was, but skinny?

Donna shook herself. So not the point right now. One of them had to stay on track!

He reached through the flames mad and uncaring to start hitting buttons and pulling levers. Donna couldn't believe it. Had he somehow gone even more barmy?

“What do I do?” She called.

“Hang on tight, Donna-dear!”

“Donna what?”

“I’m trying it out!” He clambered back around to her. “The dematerialization circuit’s blown! We're in free-fall now!”

“You mean you can't land us?” She demanded.

“Depends on your definition of landing!” He shouted back. He’d gotten quite good at the shouting, all right up close to her and wild gesticulations. “I’ll have to see if we’ve still got the helmic regulator!”

“Which one’s that?”

He swung an arm out towards the worst of the fire.

“Oh my God. Wait, wait, just — wait a minute!” She ordered, snagging his elbow just in time to keep him from running right over there. Donna rushed to the little supply cupboard just outside the console room, sweat beading on her brow, and returned hefting the fire extinguisher, which she aimed and sprayed all over the panel in question.

“Amazing, Donna!”

She turned in anticipation of his approach this time, and so instead of the exuberant smooch on the cheek she was likely supposed to have gotten, his lips mashed into hers.

Donna dropped the fire extinguisher with a clatter and somehow ended up with her fingers clenched in his long hair. He writhed like a live wire against her as if he didn't know what to do with himself — seriously, was he just made of energy this go around? — and somewhere in the middle it turned into a true, proper kiss. Or snog, really.

Something else went pop on the console.

He reeled back out of her hold just as suddenly as he’d swooped in, looking dazed and panting almost as heavily as she was. His eyes were some incredible shade, not quite green or hazel.

And he was the Doctor.

“Spaceman!” He stilled for the first time in this body. A smile was aimed at her again, but this time softer and smaller, almost shy. “Try not to get us killed.”

Her alien licked his lips. “No guarantees.”

Donna found herself smiling anyway.

He was galloping around the console again, whooping in exhilaration. “Whoo hoo hoo! Ah!” The ceiling was nearly collapsing in some places, and a bit of it had gotten in his mouth. He spat it out, then reached for her hand.

She was plummeting back to Earth in a burning TARDIS with an alien who was both her best mate yet something of a stranger, and possibly her boyfriend.

Donna took it.

The Doctor threw a lever with his other hand, then turned to her with the thrill of adventure and the love of two hearts in his eyes.

“Geronimo!”

[notifychill4-blog]

What — Or Who — Will We Eat in Space?

Charlie Jane Anders is the author of The City in the Middle of the Night, out on Feb. 12. Here, she investigates one of the most unsettling images in the long history of sci-fi, a “what if?” scenario that she also factors into the new novel.

Science fiction is full of sickening ideas, like body snatchers and alien parasites and mind-controlling earworms. But one of the most skin-crawling tropes in science fiction is also probably pretty realistic: humans eating alien life forms that later turn out to be intelligent.

The most famous iteration of this storyline is probably the Futurama episode “The Problem With Popplers,” in which an addictively delicious snack food turns out to be the children of the Omicronians — who are understandably pissed about people eating their babies. There’s also one part of George R.R. Martin’s novel-in-stories, Tuf Voyaging, where a group of colonists eats delicious “mudpots,” not realizing they’re a sapient species.

According to TV Tropes’ exhaustive cataloguing of this gruesome story idea, Terry Pratchett’s Discworld also digs into the notion. And Joanna Russ’ comedic story “Useful Phrases for the Tourist” teaches interstellar travelers to say, “Are you edible?” and “I am not edible.” In Douglas Adams’ Restaurant at the End of the Universe, the sentient Dish of the Day is not only sentient, but urges people to eat it. Then, of course, there’s the first season of Star Trek: Discovery, in which the Terran emperor, Philippa Georgiou, knowingly eats a Kelpien, one of poor Commander Saru’s relatives.

This is all on my mind because — minor spoiler — sapient-eating also happens in my new novel, The City in the Middle of the Night: Human colonists eat the indigenous life forms on the planet January, not realizing they’re a highly advanced civilization.

And when humans aren’t trying to eat aliens that we don’t realize are intelligent, of course, the aliens are frequently trying to eat us. Which is why To Serve Man is a cookbook.

This trope isn’t nearly as common in science fiction as humans and aliens having sex, for obvious reasons — it’s a lot more disturbing, with its implications of cannibalism. (Especially compared to hooking up with aliens who look like supermodels or pop stars with just a little colorful body paint.)

But if we ever do manage to find life on other planets, I imagine us doing the same thing we’ve done with almost every other life form on Earth: trying to eat it. Particularly if humans colonize a planet that already supports life and then suffer a food shortage, leading to a widespread famine, the colonists will almost certainly hunt for meat to supplement their diet.

In The City in the Middle of the Night, humans have colonized the tidally locked planet January, and centuries later, our descendants are barely holding on with inadequate food sources. Some plucky humans venture into the planet’s night side, to hunt the large, furry creatures who live there, whom human beings call ���crocodiles.” But the novel’s protagonist, Sophie, learns early on that the crocodiles are actually an advanced life form called the Gelet — and humans just haven’t been able to communicate with them until now.

The realization that humans have been hunting, butchering, and eating January’s indigenous intelligent species is a horrifying one, and this fact also makes it harder for people to accept that the Gelet are really sapient. After all, nobody wants to admit that they’ve been eating people, and the whole concept is kind of sickening. But on the other hand, because the Gelet are large and scary-looking, and humans have only interacted with them in narrow circumstances, it’s easy to see why people think they’re just like cows, or maybe elks.

“It’s the basic human instinct of ‘survival of the piggiest,’” Patric M. Verrone, the writer of the Futurama episode about Popplers, tells me. “The crew was hungry” in that episode, says Verrone, so when Leela checks “that thing on my wrist” and discovers the only edible life form on the planet isn’t poisonous, her team becomes addicted to these delicious fried-shrimp-like critters. But Leela does feel guilty for “eating them by the bucketful” when she discovers they’re the offspring of an intelligent species, says Verrone.

“I think if we met aliens in real life, and they were intelligent, we would not immediately eat them,” Verrone adds. “At least I wouldn’t. Especially if they’re prepared with cilantro.”

Fox Television

Novelist and game designer Jim Munroe, having incorporated a people-eating-intelligent-creatures storyline into his novel Angry Young Spaceman, complicates the trope in his new graphic novel in progress, Zeroed Out. The book finds Earth in a “galactic supply chain,” and one of the rules is that “the acceptability of eating meat is related to intelligence differential,” says Munroe. So in this future, humans are allowed to eat chickens and fish, but not beef or pork. But the “offworlders” who work with humans are smarter than us, so they are allowed to eat beef and pork — and these super-intelligent aliens “are nuts for bacon.”

Lately, I’ve been having lots of conversations with Star Wars fans about the porgs, those adorable bird creatures in The Last Jedi whom Chewbacca tries to roast over an open fire. Are the porgs intelligent? Or just too cute to eat? They certainly figure out that the meal Chewbacca is preparing is one of them. But they don’t seem to be able to communicate — or if they do, it’s as unintelligible as Chewbacca himself. StormMiguel Florez, a Star Wars fan who stars in the short film A Murder of Porgs, says, “They’re definitely smarter than chickens. But it’s hard to tell if they’re as smart as humans.”

The real question is: How do we tell if a creature is intelligent, if it communicates differently from us? And how intelligent does a creature have to be before it’s “off limits”? We can’t even define intelligence in any meaningful way, let alone come up with rules for which creatures are too smart (or too purposeful) to eat.

We’re already asking these questions about some creatures on Earth. Most people agree that dolphins are too intelligent to eat, and we go out of our way to eat dolphin-safe tuna. Some people also argue that squids and other cephalopods are too smart for us to eat. And then there are cows, which have been shown in some experiments to be able to learn, and to have emotional intelligence.

A few years ago, BBC Radio 4 did a four-part series called Would You Eat an Alien? in which host Christine Nicol talked to a number of philosophers, bioethicists, and animal experts about the ethical debate. What emerges is a clear difficulty in figuring out how intelligent and social a creature is, and how much harm will be done by eating them — especially with an alien life form that you’ve just encountered for the first time.

The final episode of the series, “Alien Persons,” grapples with the question of whether a creature is a thing or a person, and thus deserving of rights. On the one hand, philosopher Roger Scruton argues that only humans think of our lives as a story, with a narrative arc that can be brought to completion. On the other, veterinarian James Yeates says that pretty much anything you can point to as special about humans also exists somewhere in the animal realm. Is personhood a matter of autonomy? Or the ability to make plans? Language use?

Perhaps aliens only achieve personhood if they have their own sense of right and wrong. If we can prove that an alien creature has its own moral code, argues Scruton, “then we must be prepared to attribute to it the rights that we claim against it.”

(Be warned: Would You Eat An Alien? has kind of a heartbreaking ending.)

Science fiction has long wrestled with the question of how to tell if a creature is intelligent, or capable of communicating. In H. Beam Piper’s Hugo-nominated 1962 novel Little Fuzzy, a prospector named Jack Holloway discovers an adorable species of furry creatures called Fuzzies. He thinks it’s a thoughtful, emotional species, but an evil corporation wants to exploit the Fuzzies’ home planet. Holloway has to go to court to prove the Fuzzies are sapient, and not just merely smart animals.

Then there’s The Word for World is Forest by Ursula K. Le Guin, in which humans enslave a planet’s indigenous “creechers,” on the grounds that they’re not really human-equivalent ... until the “creechers” prove otherwise. The reverse occurs in several stories in which humans are placed into a “zoo” by advanced aliens, and can only win their freedom by proving their intelligence to their captors. Proving intelligence turns out to be remarkably difficult when you’re dealing with a species that thinks very differently from the way you do — and maybe only looks at humans the way we look at pigs or cows.

Science fiction history reflects a hard truth: We, as a species, tend to eat first and do complex behavioral research much later. And we’re not particularly good at making on-the-spot assessments of other creatures’ claims to personhood — especially when we get hungry.

Source: https://www.polygon.com/tv/2019/2/11/18217038/sci-fi-eating-aliens-futurama-star-wars-star-trek-discovery

[ask-honeyphos]

Honeydew had been looking about for Xephos for a while now, it being so late into the night. Though as he passes through his lover's office; he has to backtrack as he sees a discarded note on his desk...huh? One of those asks again? He chuckled slightly. It was cute how excited Xephy would get over these, but he usually kept them so organized. Reading over the small piece of paper, the dwarf finally does realize; and his small eyes even beat his reaction and flutter towards the window, framing the outside world. And there's none other than his spaceman there, gazing at the stars. He must be homesick..with that, the small ginger man slowly made his way over. Just waddling his short legs until he sat behind Xephos, holding his brunette close around the waist, just acting as an almost chair back to him as he nuzzled at his neck gently. No words were needed really..

The spaceman is almost startled out of his thoughts, but quickly calms down as he recognizes Honeydew. Just relaxing with a sigh as he leaned back against the dwarf. Closing his glimmering eyes, giving up the search for familiar patterns in the sky, nuzzling in to the other's warmth. This was good, just this, right here. This was perfect.