#rory guarded the pandorica for 2000 years

[clarencewho1963]

Can we all just take a minute to appreciate the fact that Ruby actually survived the whole goddamned plot of 73 Yards?

She's a 19-year-old girl. She got dumped in Wales. She got a creepy old woman following her all the time. She spent five fucking pounds for a glass of coke. She got bullied by an entire pub. She went home on her own. She got kicked out of her home by her own mother with nothing more than the clothes on her back. She got brushed away by Kate and UNIT just after she thought she's finally getting some help and understanding. She got her life being turned upside down. She spent the entirety of that life being alone.

She's not like Donna in Turn Left: At least Donna still had Sylvia and Wilf.

She's not like Martha in the end of Series 3: Sure, she was being hunted down but people would welcome and help her everywhere she went.

Ruby went through decades of being followed, neglected and mistreated all by herself. And I think that makes her one of the strongest companions in Doctor Who history.

[quietwingsinthesky]

rory goes yeah i can remember all 2000 years i spent guarding the pandorica 👍 however if i ignore my trauma it won’t exist.

[whoify]

below is the beginnings of a meta I started almost four years ago but never finished, and so much time has passed that I don’t even agree with the point I was heading towards anymore:

I will say, one thing I genuinely don’t like that moffat tends to do is having massive amounts of time pass as a sort of plot device. I think in some stories it can work but he overuses it, like off the top of my head:

amy waits twelve years for the doctor to return to her in the eleventh hour

amy waits another three (?) years for the doctor in the same episode

rory guards the pandorica for 2000 years

in the doctor’s wife, when amy and rory are navigating their way through the tricks of House, rory appears to have lost amy and waited for her for something like 50 years, and then waited again until he’s dead

amy waits for the doctor again in the girl who waited, for like 30 (?) years

in the angels take manhattan, rory appears to have been trapped by the angels and lived out the remainder of his life waiting for amy

I know it’s meant to be a motif with amy, and maybe it wouldn’t seem overused if it ended with her, but it keeps cropping up:

the doctor is on trenzalore for 300 years in the time of the doctor

the doctor is in his confession vault for four billion years in heaven sent

bill waits for the doctor for ten years on the colony ship in world enough and time

and that’s as far as I got back then. I definitely see where I was going but I disagree with the fact that this motif was overused, per se. obviously it comes up a lot in amy’s era, and some of those episodes aren’t even written by moffat.

an issue I might take now is that the amount of time that passes could feel disproportionate to the stakes of the episode, which can make the time skip feel very shoehorned in and pull the audience out of the story. I’m still not confident enough in that analysis to properly defend it though.

part of me wants to say that moffat takes a very “when it doubt, have a lot of time pass” approach, but that’s framed in such a negative way and I’m not even sure that’s how I view this motif anymore. something something waiting for those you love as a theme of the whole moffat era? something something the time will pass but I’ll still be there? I could definitely do an analysis on the use of time passing in each of these episodes, and I think I’d have good things to say about all of them. mind: fully changed

[quilterdyke]

rory williams is queer because i know for a FACT no cishet man would guard the pandorica for their fiancée for 2000 years

[starseized]

“not everybody’s interested in working in that sort of environment anyways,” he replies with a small shrug, “lots of stress, lots of injuries and illnesses, so i can’t blame anyone for avoiding it.”

he can understand how strange and alienating it can feel when a face is painfully familiar but for the life of you, you can’t quite place it. part of rory knows full well his time guarding the pandorica doesn’t really… count. it happened but didn’t happen, right? but he remembers it all, though it’s easier to say he doesn’t to keep those who know the truth of what happened from worrying. because over 2000 years worth of memory is too much for one person to hold in their mind. so many faces and names and trials just— there, but he’s the only one who remembers them. he does his best to keep it all locked away in a box ( ironic, maybe ? ) that stays tucked in the corner of his mind, and just focus on the present.

so all that in addition to the many people he sees come and go at work, it messes with his head when he can’t quite place a face with the past or present.

“must be frustrating, though. i know it gets me in my head when i can’t place a face, but they know me. almost embarrassing, y’know? but i suppose you do have to learn a lot of names and faces in temp work.”

"i've never worked in one myself." a doctor's office here or there, but never a hospital. still: the face sits in her head the way that faces sometimes do. it's an odd sort of thing, faces. it doesn't happen a lot. it doesn't even happen often.

but sometimes: she is walking to her job, or she is sitting at the pub, or she is at trivia night with the girls, or her car's broken down again and she's taken the bus, and a face sticks out. she'll lock eyes, a woman with a dark jacket or a girl with a long braid or curly hair and she'll think: i know you. we're meant to be close.

she's started to think she's lived other lives, and then she'll talk herself right out of it again, because that's got to be madness. she can barely manage the life she's already living.

"have you really? the opposite's happened to me. someone will come up to me and know who i am - nevermind, you don't need this story, i've only just met you." he doesn't need to know she's lost something over a year of her life. and why the hell is she talking to him like she knows him? "i do. plenty of them. donna noble, super temp."

[anonthenullifier]

If possible, I'd love to request a drabble/fic/whatever you're comfortable with Vision protecting Wanda? Specifically was watching S5 of Doctor Who and rewatched the storyline with Rory as the Last Centurion, waiting 2000 years and guarding Amy in the Pandorica, and I thought the parallel was so freaking strong. An AU/something inspired by it would be so moving (but only if you want to)?

Hello! First of all, my apologies it took me so long to get to this. I cannot begin to tell you how much I love this prompt. Rory Williams has been the fictional love of my life long before Vision (they are on equal footing though) so the idea of combining them is just wonderful. I spent a lot of time trying to decide how I wanted to do it and landed on using it as my first attempt to write Post-WandaVision Vision. It also has balloooned into a multi-chaptered fic. So below is the prologue and I will continue writing and posting as I get more written. Thank you so much for the awesome prompt, I hope you enjoy!!

---

A Sentry in Solitude

Prologue

There is a rock jutting out of the wall, situated just perfectly between the vibranium plates of his neck so that it digs into his synthetic flesh. The discomfort provides a point of focus beyond the suffocating silence of the others sitting around in various states of pain, defiance, or trauma-induced dissociative numbness. If he leans back a hair more it almost, but not quite, blots out the heated, whispered conversation occurring at the end of the cavernous, partially underground room they’re in.

“Wanda you don’t have to do this.” Captain Wilson has been against the idea from the onset of its conceptualization. “We can find another way.”

Dr. Strange, on the other hand, being the individual to birth the strategy, pushes back at every doubt and counterpoint laid out. “There is no other way. We’ve tried everything.”

“Sam,” when Wanda speaks, voice low and stern, he increases his auditory processors enough to clearly hear the words, “it has to be done.”

“Like hell it does.” The others in the room perk up at the exclamation, their de facto leader usually more jovial and less prone to outbursts. Then again, in their universe, somewhere out there, beyond the gates and spells used to transport them to safety, their world is about to be destroyed by a force they can’t seem to overcome. Outbursts might be acceptable. “We haven’t even—“

“We have exhausted all other avenues,” it is the fifth time they’ve had this conversation, each iteration with various people involved or not. He has not once been consulted, which is understandable, overall trust is low right now, particularly towards him.  All he can do is simply exist and help where he can, not even certain this is where he belongs, but when they located his hideout, deep in the Adirondacks, it seemed pertinent to his continued existence to simply follow along with their desires, which were to keep him close so they could subdue him should the need arise. A logical view, all things considered. “With this spell, we can win.”

The long, pregnant silence is punctuated by the echo of the pebbles Captain Wilson is kicking as he paces. Then the pattern of his feet stops and the collective of non-engaged (but clearly listening) teammates hold their breath. “Wanda, have you thought about—“

Whether from mind reading or intuition, the harsh enunciation of her words fills the room before Sam can finish, “I’ve already lost everything, Sam,” the rock pressed into his neck is no longer the source of the stabbing, sharp ache sending his synthetic neurons into a frenzy, a pain he has no term for or understanding of beyond the fact it exists as a visceral reaction to her. “There’s nothing worse that can happen to me.” He closes his eyes, desperate to hide from the sideways glances and the purposeful avoidance of his presence, but if he dares phase away or go fully incorporeal, their anger and suspicion will follow.

“Fine.” Sam stomps back to their base of operations, refusing to sit down while the telltale whirling of a portal slices through the air.

Only seconds later, Dr. Strange returns, alone, hands grasped, an action that only magnifies their tremble, belying how tired he is from what they have just commenced. “Let’s give it ten minutes,” the sorcerer sits with conviction, eyes straight forward, lips grasped into a firm, unflinching line, “then we go get her.”

It sounds so simple, so effortless, to sit here for a finite time (Mr. Parker already setting a timer on his phone) and act as if everything is astoundingly normal. Only it’s not and he cannot stay his synthetic heart from increasing a marked 20 beats per minute, cannot convince the wires strung together into a makeshift nervous system that it is futile to fire in a pattern of alarm, to try and coax him into an action he has no concept of. It’s only ten minutes. All they have to do is sit here, allow Dr. Strange to regain his energy, and then they retrieve Wanda, return to their universe, save the day, and then he can retire back to the forest to contemplate the complexities of his existence…he hopes.

Three minutes pass and for some reason his lips decide to move, “Will she be safe?”

Another two minutes tick away at a slower pace than the furious clicking of the complex rhythm of the valves of his heart pumping away the synthetic blood he isn’t sure he needs to survive. Then Dr. Strange responds. “It’s only ten minutes.”

A fallacy that everyone in this room knows, and one he must point out. “Only for us.”

Forty-five seconds and a glare, the sagging goatee a portent for launching back into the fight they’ve all been entering and leaving for the past day. “I,” exhaustion exits Dr. Strange’s body as a deep exhale, “I casted every protection rune and spell I know. Nothing should reach her, nothing should find her.”

Wanda’s final comment echoes through his head, There’s nothing worse that can happen to me . Just like before it stabs and twists deep into his vibranium-laced abdominal muscles, a psychosomatic injury, he presumes, since no physical source is there. A recurring affliction since Vision opened his memories in Westview. At times it is barely perceptible, though still there, and then whenever she is near it is…too much. Like he’s drowning. Only she isn’t here now and yet it persists, grows, gnaws until he finds himself speaking just to silence it. “Will she feel the weight of it,” now the eyes of the room find him, curious, terrified, bewildered, swollen from defeat, “all the years?”

“She shouldn’t.” Dr. Strange’s response lacks the cockiness inherent in his personality, the bite of arrogance reduced down to a nibble as he shrugs. “But we’ll know in,” Mr. Parker holds up his phone, “three and a half minutes.”

Again, three minutes and 26.6 seconds for them, something only he seems to have any concern over, his lungs practically compressing into nothingness at the weight of what she must be enduring, at what she is sacrificing for them because she has nothing left here. Where he is. “Would she be safer if someone were there to guard her?”

His words resuscitate the room, backs straightening, eyes wandering the way humans always do when they are seeking some concurrence for their perceptions, some sign that they aren’t alone in hearing what was said or inferring what he is offering. Dr. Strange looks only at him, not just because he asked the question but likely because they all know he is the only one who could complete such a task and is quite literally the last individual they would trust with it. Correction, second to last, their current foe would be the last. “You cannot be serious.”

Though he might struggle with humanity and his place in it, the insinuation that he is anything but serious is highly offensive. “I am.” The entire survival of their universe (and likely many more) rests on Wanda’s shoulders and here they are leaving her guarded only by runes and spells that have been crushed beneath the heel of their opponent. “I think it pertinent to consider all options to ensure the plan proceeds without hindrance.”

“No,” the sorcerer shakes his head, “no, absolutely not. We are not considering this. Nothing can get through the runes.”

The fact they are hiding in a pocket universe from a magical force greater than their own skills shows otherwise. Humans, however, will overlook such flaws when their emotions demand it. “You know that is not true.”

“And who will do it? You?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely not.”

Dr. Cho had begun to assess his physiological and neurological responses, including the activation of his makeshift amygdala and how it is capable of stimulating his hypothalamus which kickstarts his adrenal glands to then send synthetic adrenaline and cortisol out, manifesting in what one might label anger. Or fear, but right now he knows it is not fear. “Look me in the eye,” precisely what Dr. Strange is already doing, “and tell me she would not be safer with someone there to protect her.”

Five seconds, a sigh, and then, “Obviously she’d be safer,” an admission sewn with vitriol, “but you,” the next line of reasoning will be to point out the state of his own creation, of the directive that drove him to almost murder Wanda, to extinguish her from their original universe. Only his prediction fails. “You’d feel the weight of every single year.” A truth, he is not immortal, per se, the decay of vibranium a slow but sure process, but as far as the anatomical and physiological assessments determined when they dragged him from his solitude, he is closer to immortal than anyone else currently present. “You’d go mad, Vision.” He glances down at the inappropriate nomenclature. “Two thousand years of living alone.”

When Wanda suggested taking on the millennia spanning task, they all jumped immediately to stop her, to explain to her what she would be missing, what she might lose, that her sacrifice didn’t have to be their path. There are no such arguments here, only shocked curiosity as he considers Dr. Strange’s assertion that he might psychologically malfunction even if physically he remains intact. “Perhaps.” Oddly the idea of being alone for so long is of little concern to him, it may even be…enticing.  Two thousand years to determine who he is, what his purpose is, why he was forced into the world. If that isn’t long enough to find answers, then nothing ever will be. This is secondary, tertiary, really, perhaps even more removed, because the real reason has already been answered and he inquires again, just to confirm. “Would she be safer with me there?”

A high-pitched beeping echoes around the room as Mr. Parker fumbles with his phone. “Uh…that’s ten minutes.”

The plan says at ten minutes Dr. Strange opens a portal into the adjacent universe, 2000 years later in the timeline than where he left Wanda. “Why do you want to do this?”

He meets the whispered question with an equally low voice, “She deserves to be safe and I am the only one that can physically withstand the years.”

“Are we…sure about this?” Now Captain Wilson nudges in but Dr. Strange ignores the question, never removing the intensity of his gaze from him. “Bit of advice. You’re neither immortal nor indestructible.”

The memories he’s burdened with confirm that, “I know.”

“No one will be there to help you.”

“I am aware.”

As the lecture continues, Dr. Strange’s hands move of their own accord, opening a portal flickering with the scarlet of the spell on the other side. “According to Dr. Cho’s report you need ample sunlight for the stone,” they are tentatively calling it a solar gem because of this, though its composition is still unknown, “we don’t know how your body reacts to all frequencies or technological advancements yet.”

“I have read the report.”

“Hey, we should really talk more about this.”

Captain Wilson’s concern fails to break through, Dr. Strange sending a, well, strange smirk as he waves a trembling hand towards the portal. “You know,” the comment stops him halfway between the two universes, “self-sacrifice for the greater good is awfully heroic.”

Not a descriptor of himself since his re-creation, as was proven by his first actions of consciousness. “I suppose that is one way to view it.” He takes another step, turning just enough to look back at the rest of his teammates and the worried confusion they all wear. “I will do my best to protect her.”

Dr. Strange nods at him. “We’ll see you in a couple minutes.”

“Two thousand years, to be exact.”

“For you.” Dr. Strange’s lips attempt to rise in humor, but exhaustion bars them from curving too high. As he steps fully through the portal, one last warning echoes as if from the other side of a vast chasm, “Whatever you do, no matter how bored you get, don’t you dare,” and then the sparking oval disappears, whatever he dare not do lost to the waves of time and a storm of confusion.

Turning to the right, his lungs shaking from the inhale he doesn’t have to take, all of what happened before fades as he finds himself unable to look away from the sight before him.

In the middle of a circle, traced into the stone with the chalk Dr. Strange brought from their own universe, Wanda hovers, cloaked in the full regalia of the Scarlet Witch, her legs crossed and wrists resting delicately on her knees with steepled fingers, eyes closed and lips parted just enough to continue the low, mumbled chant that lifts the Darkhold up above her lap, its pages glowing in undulations of bright scarlet in unison with the runes of protection embedded in the stone walls.  Around her is formed a transparent, crystalline shield, its hexagonal sides iridescent, shifting colors as he leans right and then left, the hues curving not unlike the waves of space time.

Eldritch is a term some might use. Prophetic, damning, supernatural, otherworldly, and demonic are other possibilities, the image before him not unlike what might be painted or portrayed with the opening of Macbeth. He, however, finds it beautiful, in a sorrowful, haunting way. A testament to resilience and a monument of sacrifice. A chrysalis from which she will emerge more powerful and knowledgeable than any other who has ever lived. Or so the spell suggests, but no one has ever taken it on successfully, a trial of two millennia locked in an intimate connection with the book hovering above her lap, one known to corrupt and drive its users mad.  If anyone can withstand this, it will be Wanda.

Feeling uncomfortable with just standing and gawking, he finds a large rock and sits down, hands sliding to rest along his knees. For their teammates it will be a matter of minutes until they are back, but for him, for Wanda, it will be noticeably longer. Only now does the weight of his decision begin to settle, his thoughts oscillating with the reflection of scarlet light along the bright white of his skin. He has been alive for less than eight months, the memories housed in his brain span less than five years, and he cannot even begin to fathom what lies ahead, what all will occur over two thousand years. Perhaps he will go mad, or maybe he won’t. No one has done this before, there are no protocols, which just means he will need to be precise and detailed in his notes. What matters most, however, what he assumes will protect him is the one mission he has: to keep Wanda safe so she can save them all.

[hotdog-frenchfries]

13 meeting some of her previous companions? Maybe Amy and Rory? 😊

Thank you so much! Ik it's not perfect and it might not be what you were expecting, but here you go:

“Doctor! What’s happening?” Yaz yelled, grabbing onto the TARDIS control console, as the TARDIS hurtled its way through space. “The TARDIS is taking us somewhere.” The Doctor shouted, scrambling to her feet. “Where?” Yaz cried. “I’m not sure. She obviously thinks we’re needed somewhere.” Confused, the Doctor attempted to get to the console, as the floor shifted, pulling her to the ground again. Gradually, the TARDIS halted to a stop. The Doctor slowly got up and made her way to the door, with Yaz following her. She poked her head round the door. They were on the roof of an old, abandoned hotel in the middle of the night. The wind was blowing fiercely, making her long coat fly out from behind her. Carefully, the Doctor made her way to the edge of the roof. In front of her, she could see tall skyscrapers looming from the streets. They were in New York in 1940. This city was filled with so many memories: she recalled climbing up the Empire State Building with Ian, Barbara and Vicki, defeating the Cult of Skaro with Martha and teaming up with Lucy and Grant aka The Ghost to battle Shoal of the Winter Harmony with Nardole. Most recently, she had met Nikola Tesla with Yaz, Ryan and Graham and ended up fighting the Skithra. However, no matter how many adventures she had in this city, New York would always be a painful reminder of the night she had lost the Ponds to the Weeping Angels. It just so happened that the TARDIS had brought them to the very hotel where Amy and Rory were being held. 1940, that meant they had been trapped for two years. Why had the TARDIS brought her here? Were the Ponds in danger? “Doctor,” The sound of Yaz’s voice jolted her out of her reverie. “Are we in New York? What year is this?” The Doctor turned to her quickly. “Yaz, listen to me. We are in New York, in the year 1940. I’ve been to this hotel before, with some friends, only it was in 1938, and they didn’t make it back with me. I need you to stay close to me. I can’t lose you too. This hotel is guarded by Weeping Angels, one of the most dangerous species in the universe. They take the form of stone statues and are quantum-locked, which means that they can only move when unseen. But they’re extremely fast, which is one of the reasons they’re so dangerous. If you see a statue, any statue, don’t turn your back and don’t blink.” Yaz nodded. Although, she rarely mentioned them, Yaz knew that the Doctor had lost many close to her before she had started travelling with her. Part of her wished that the Doctor would open up to her, Yaz knew better than to open up old wounds, but she couldn’t stand how the Doctor blamed herself for all the deaths, especially when she had done so much to save others. She was often reminded that one day, Yaz too could get herself hurt or killed, whilst travelling with the Doctor, but she knew the risks and that she would never leave the Doctor, if she could help it. “Why did the TARDIS bring us here?” Yaz asked. “I don’t know. I think that my friends, the ones I lost, might be in danger.” The Doctor answered. “We need to get inside the hotel.” “You mean, they’re still alive?” Yaz responded, confused. It wasn’t like the Doctor to abandon her friends when they could still be saved. She wondered what had happened at this hotel. “The Angels rarely kill. Instead, once they get close to you, they send you back in time and feast upon your time energy like parasites. I did try to save them – the Ponds – my friends, however the Angels got them in the end. To save them would have created a time paradox, and they told me not to risk it.” “Tell me about them, the Ponds.” Yaz asked. “They were a couple – Amy and Rory. Amy was brave and kind and adventurous. She was determined, she would rarely give up on anything, she put her mind to. Rory was honest and compassionate and protective. He had so much empathy, and would never have abandoned anyone. They were so loyal and would have gone to the ends of the Earth for each other. One time, Amy was trapped in this box called the Pandorica and Rory protected her for 2000 years. It was only supposed to be Rory trapped in this hotel, but Amy refused to let him be trapped alone.” The Doctor smiled sadly. “Anyway, enough stories, we need to find a way into this hotel.”. Carefully, Yaz and the Doctor climbed down the stairs on the side of the hotel, until the Doctor told Yaz to stop at a certain floor. Using her sonic screwdriver, the Doctor opened the window and crawled through, Yaz following her. They had ended up in a corridor of doors. On each door was a name, Yaz assumed that each door led to a hotel room, where each of the Weeping Angel’s victims were being held captive. “We need to find the door labelled Rory Williams.” The Doctor told Yaz, as they crept through the corridor, glancing at each door. “It’s here.” Yaz gestured to one of the doors. Silently, the Doctor opened the door. “Who’s there?” A female voice with a Scottish accent asked, making Yaz jump. “Amy?” the Doctor breathed. “Who are you and how do you know my wife’s name?” a male voice asked. The lights suddenly turned on. Yaz could see a tall, pretty woman, a couple of years older than herself, with long red hair and dark hazel eyes, standing behind a man, about the same age, with light brown hair and eyes. The Doctor’s face broke into a huge smile, Yaz couldn’t remember the last time she had seen the Doctor this happy. “Amy, Rory, it’s me! I’m the Doctor!” “You’re not the doctor,” the man, who Yaz assumed was Rory, said. “For one, you’re a woman.” “Of course, regeneration, I have a new face. Please Ponds, it is me!” The Doctor turned to Amy. “Amy, my TARDIS crashed into your garden when you were a child. You were praying for Santa to fix the crack in your wall. You invited me in and we ate fish fingers and custard! Rory, you used to think I was just Amy’s imaginary friend, the Raggedy Doctor. Then I came back, and we got Prisoner Zero back into its prison. I haven’t seen you since you were captured by the Weeping Angels, but now I’ve come back. I know I look different but I am the Doctor!” Amy stepped forwards from behind Rory. “Doctor, it is you!” she cried, running up to her and giving the Doctor a hug. The Doctor’s smile grew, it felt so good to be back with the Ponds! “Who is she” asked Rory, gesturing to Yaz. “Oh, of course!” The Doctor let go of Amy and moved so the Ponds could see Yaz properly. “This is Yaz, we travel together. She helped me to get inside the hotel and find you.” Yaz waved shyly. “Hi. I’ve heard so much about you.” “Hi Yaz, thank you for looking after the Doctor.” Amy smiled friendlily and Rory nodded gratefully. The Doctor rolled up her sleeve to reveal a vortex manipulator. “Who wants to go on a trip?” “Is that possible, Doctor? What about the Angels?” asked Amy. “Don’t worry about them. Come along Ponds and Yaz!” answered the Doctor. Together, the Doctor, Yaz, Amy and Rory journeyed across time and space, visiting famous people and old friends, such as Queen Nefititi and the Paternoster gang and planets such as New Earth and Akhaten. However, like all journeys, it had to come to an end and Yaz and the Doctor had to say goodbye to Amy and Rory. “Before we go, do you know, if River is safe?” Amy asked the Doctor, part of her afraid of the answer. “She is saved to the largest database in the universe, with her friends. I’m sorry, I couldn’t do more, but I promise you River is safe and that she is happy” answered the Doctor, quietly. “The last time I saw her I took her to the Singing Towers of Daryllium and we were together for 24 years. She’s safe, but it’s impossible for me to see her again.” “Thank you, Doctor. Thank you for looking after her for us. I know it must be so painful for you, as it is for us, but thank you for making sure she’s safe.” Rory responded, his voice breaking. “I’m sor-” the Doctor began. “Don’t be,” Amy said, softly. “We know you must have done everything you could have done. That’s all we could have asked of you.” Yaz hung back as the Doctor said her farewells. She had enjoyed her journey with the Ponds but she knew it would be hard for the Doctor, leaving them again. Amy and Rory came towards her. “Look after her for us, please.” Amy said, her voice low. “I will.” Yaz promised. “I’m so glad I met you both.” They hugged, for the last time. The Doctor made her way to the TARDIS. She already felt the Ponds’ absence, but she was glad she had spent this time with them. Since the Master had revealed to her about her past, that she was the Timeless Child, she had been feeling confused and angry about how the Time Lords had used her, but seeing the Ponds and introducing them to Yaz, had made her feel a lot better. She wondered why the TARDIS had brought her here. Her conversation with Idris echoed in her mind. “You didn’t always take me where I wanted to go.” “No, but I always took you where you needed to go.” Perhaps the TARDIS had known that a part of her had needed to see the Ponds again.

[holisticfansstuff]

Look. Look. Rory Williams was wiped from reality, right? And then, a few episodes later, Robot!Rory became the new Rory. That's why he didn't age. Because he wasn't entirely human. That's why he was able to guard Amy for 2000 years, right? Right?

Meanwhile, Amy didn't age because she was inside the Pandorica and essentially kept in stasis. So she's human and would age outside it...

So how come Rory and Amy aged at the same/human rate in The Angels Take Manhattan?

What did I miss?

[solo-by-choice]

Rory guarding the Pandorica for 2000 years is literally the most romantic thing anyone has ever done, ever

[the-desolated-quill]

The Big Bang - Doctor Who blog

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

Well I suppose it’s not the worst finale I’ve ever seen, but that’s not saying much.

The Big Bang continues where The Pandorica Opens left off. The Doctor is locked inside the Pandorica, Rory’s killed Amy, River Song is trapped inside the exploding TARDIS and the whole of reality is collapsing in on itself. The only hope for the entire universe is a little girl who still believes in stars... or at least that’s what it says on the back of the box. In reality little Amelia doesn’t really get to do much before promptly getting erased about halfway through as though a hook just yanked her off stage. But, nevertheless, the opening few minutes in the alternate reality is very engaging. I particularly liked the gag about Richard Dawkins and star cults.

From there we get some timey, wimey hijinks from the Doctor with his mop and fez, which was pretty fun (this is the one and only time you’ll ever hear me refer to the words ‘wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey’ in a positive light), and then Arthur Darvill excels himself in the scene where the Doctor claims Amy isn’t more important than the whole universe and Rory responds by punching him square in the face. This is then followed by a really powerful scene where Rory vows to guard the Pandorica while it heals Amy for 2000 years. Darvill’s really come a long way since his wooden acting days in The Vampires Of Venice.

Unfortunately, from there, it all goes a bit tits up.

As tragic and emotional as Rory’s sacrifice is, it’s all undermined when less than a few minutes after we’ve learnt he perished during WW2 whilst protecting the Pandorica, he suddenly shows up again out of the blue in a security guard uniform. Same goes for the Doctor’s death. Both could have been used to help raise the stakes. In fact what would have been really cool is if River Song died too and it was left up to Amy to work out how to save the universe. Maybe have her fly the Pandorica into the heart of the explosion and reboot the universe. Remember, on the back of the DVD box, it says that Amy is the universe’s last remaining hope. Moffat could have capitalised on that fully, but no. Amy is really little more than a plot device at this stage (just like every other female character Moffat has ever written). Even the Doctor’s final speech before he disappears into Moffat’s crack (okay that’s the last time I’ll use that joke. I promise) is tainted somewhat because we’re not really seeing an emotional goodbye to a companion he loves and respects, but rather the Doctor implanting trigger phrases into Amy’s head in order to save his own skin.

And don’t get me started on the logic holes. If an exploding TARDIS could cause the destruction of the whole of space and time, why in God’s name would the Time Lords ever let it out of the fucking garage? And what about the Pandorica? First it’s a prison, then it can bring people back from the dead, then it’s a stasis chamber and finally it’s a universe factory. This is Moffat at his absolute worst, changing the rules constantly to suit whatever the plot requires. (Also what was the point of that stone Dalek? A collapsing universe is threatening enough. Certainly more frightening than a ranting pepper pot. The poor Dalek was pretty much the gooseberry in this episode). And I suppose I could talk about the dodgy science behind jumpstarting the second Big Bang and how it’s impossible to create matter from nothing, and that even if you do succeed in creating the second Big Bang, the uncertainty principle means there’s no guarantee the universe will turn out the same way, but that way lies madness, so I won’t bother.

By far and away the biggest crime Moffat commits in The Big Bang is the total lack of empathy. It’s as though Moffat is incapable of depicting or even comprehending basic human emotion. There are some legitimately powerful scenes in this episode, but they’re all undermined by the way Moffat handles them. Rory’s sacrifice and the Doctor’s death could have been incredibly moving, but then they’re swiftly reversed. The Doctor’s goodbye is ruined by the ‘something old, something blue’ trigger phrase bollocks. Even the realisation that Amy’s parents were erased by the cracks is pretty much just glossed over (also Amy’s house is too big because two people are living in it when there should be three? Bullshit!). All these emotional tragedies are happening all over the place, but Moffat is too busy trying to show the audience how clever he is rather than actually exploring the emotional impact of these tragedies.

And nowhere is this more apparent than in the final scenes.

Amy and Rory’s wedding day. In a way this is what the whole of Series 5 has been building up to, but we don’t get a single scene of them getting back together or making their vows or anything. Instead the focus is exclusively on Amy remembering the Doctor back into existence and tying up all the loose ends (Quick side note, in a universe where the Doctor never existed, how come the human race isn’t enslaved to numerous alien invaders right now?). And when the Doctor does magically return, Amy doesn’t react in a believable or empathetic way. Instead she just reverts back to her flirty, sassy way (because that’s the one character trait she’s been assigned) and keeps trying to snog the Doctor on her wedding day. Seriously, does Moffat want me to hate her? I’m all in favour of strong female characters, but it is possible to show strength without treating your romantic partner like shit. Poor Rory.

The Pandorica Opens and The Big Bang have their moments, but the Series 5 finale (and Series 5 as a whole for that matter) doesn’t quite live up to its full potential because of a showrunner who’s more preoccupied with showing us his so called ‘genius’ rather than telling an emotional and compelling narrative.

And if you think it’s bad now, wait until you see Series 6...

[pellaaearien]

I was just wondering, do you have any favourite fics you could recommend? I ask because I find fic authors tend to be 'sponges', so to speak, so if their writing is good, their taste in fic is also really good. And I've kinda fallen in love with your writing.

Oh Nonny, do I ever! You’re right that we authors tend to be fic sponges :D (And thank you for your compliment of my writing, it means more than you know!!)

*AHEM* 

I have no idea what you like so I’m just going to bombard you with fic in the hopes that something will stick. Feel free to send me another ask if you have more specific requests, or simply want to explore a certain genre further - trust me, I have plenty more where this came from!

Well, first off, basically absolutely anything @chocolatequeennk​ has ever done. Nancy is truly my queen and my writer crush, she can do no wrong. If you haven’t read her Being to Timelessness series, you absolutely need to do so immediately. Assuming you have, and series rewrites are your thing, I have quite a few more I can recommend to you if you want me to do a follow up.

While we’re on the subject, I also highly recommend the works of @lastbluetardis​ (HiddenTreasures on Ao3): she’s written a lot of incredible reunion/fixit fics which, if you like my writing, I’m sure you’ll adore as much as I do. 

In terms of individual fics, I’m going to go ahead and organise them for you by theme (the tag on my weekly fic rec post is I Read Too Much Fic™ so this shouldn’t come as a surprise). Most of these are Ten/Rose unless otherwise stated. 

But I do have to recommend The Adventures of the Doctor and Rory the Roman here because it’s the only one on here that isn’t Doctor/Rose (sorry!) This fic chronicles the 2000 years the Centurion spent guarding the Pandorica, because Moffat hates continuity and consequences and loves throwing big numbers around (sorry, not sure if you’re a Moffat fan or not) but either way this fic fills in a lot of blanks and it’s absolutely unique and necessary.

Okay? Here goes!

Reunion/Fixit Fics

I recently read Desperado, which is a really interesting take on the dimension-hopping Rose trope which I love so much, mostly concerned with her time in Pete’s World.

On Degrees of Forever by @thebaddestwolf​ is one of my absolute favourite reunion fics. I’m trash for LDR-like stories and this one is simply wonderful.

A Jump of Three Lifetimes by @leftennant​ is another one that I keep coming back to because there aren’t enough Ten x Rose x Tentoo fics. It’s not really an OT3 fic though - the story is more so Rose reunion shagging her way through the other Doctors. Feel free to hard pass if that’s not your thing!

Congruence and Divergence by @allegoricalrose​ is what I imagine watching a galaxy be born must look like. Every word is like a musical note that makes a symphony in my heart every time I read it. VERY angsty Doomsday fixit, but more than worth it.

Pregnancy/Kidfic

Foundations by @pipertennant​ - this is a pregnancy fic that actually made me cry from all the beauty before my eyes. Simply gorgeous prose. 

5 Times People Asked Rose Tyler About the Father of Her Baby by @lauraxxtennant​ is my absolute favourite kidfic. Hands down. It’s what inspired me to write my own and strikes the perfect balance between Rose’s strength and sadness, and I’m convinced that Joshua is what the actual son of the Doctor would be like.

One Crowded Hour also by @allegoricalrose​ is exactly what I said above on their other fic but also a pregnancy fic. Full of raw, real emotion and twists and breathing life. This fic sat in my heart and mind for days after I finished it.

General Doctor/Rose

But Broken Lights has some of the best Rose/Doctor character writing I’ve ever read (pro tip: it was intended to lead into a series which never materialised; though the story itself is complete, you can stop reading when you get to the ++ near the bottom of chapter 11 if you don’t want a pointless cliffhanger.)

And Always - this one is… interesting. It’s one of my favourite stories ever but it is very much not for everyone. It’s the second of two fics in a series that assumes that the Doctor never left Jack behind, but that the pain of being around him after Bad Wolf changed him is too much and they must always stay thirty feet apart. This is a problem because it’s implied that they were in a three-way relationship with Rose before the Game Station. In this story, Rose comes to Jack’s hotel room dressed as the Doctor and… things go the way you’d expect.

Marked is the best treatment of the ‘shag or die’ trope I’ve ever read. I really like it, it treats the subject matter with respect and gravity, and I love the way it shows the relationship between Rose and the Doctor.

new everything by @lauraxxtennant​: here, have something that isn’t angst! Regeneration + truth serum = times, they are a-changin’!

Senses Only Divide Us by @tenscupcake​: OH MY GOSH THIS FIC. The Doctor is rendered blind and deaf in the course of an adventure and so Rose has to use touch [;)] to reassure him and it’s the best hurt/comfort fic I have ever read.

A Long History by @jessalrynn​: And finally, the doozie. The apex. The ultimate. This fic. If you haven’t read it yet, do yourself a favour. Rose meets a young One and they fall in love and it’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. BUT BE WARNED: it is 100% canon compliant. I won’t spoil it any more than that but I’ve written here about how I wasn’t warned and it destroyed my soul. Just know that it is absolutely worth every second. 

I hope this sates your fic requirement for a while, Nonny! If you still need more, you can always feel free to ask again, like I said before, or you can check in my fic rec and pella reads tags: I do weekly fic rec of all the fic I’ve read in the previous week. Happy reading!

(PS - I’m assuming you wanted Doctor Who recs since that’s what my blog/writing is mostly about but I’m more than happy to recommend Dragon Age, Final Fantasy XII, or even Pirates of the Caribbean fic if you want. Lemme know!)

[thedoctorwhocompanion]

Arthur Darvill Returns as Rory Williams in Big Finish's The Lone Centurion!

Arthur Darvill Returns as Rory Williams in @bigfinish's #DoctorWho The Lone Centurion!

Arthur Darvill is back as Eleventh Doctor companion, Rory Williams, for audio company, Big Finish, as we explore the legends of The Lone Centurion!

Rory returns in his own full-cast audio series, as the guardian of the Pandorica for nearly 2000 years.

Legend tells of the Lone Centurion — a mysterious figure dressed as a Roman soldier who stood guard over the Pandorica, warning off those who…