Ancient and Saturday
Thank you, @humaudrey! ♥️
ancient: the first fic you ever posted online?
Ohhh, that was definitely for Teen Titans back in 2004/5, and it was either a Raven-centric lyric fic (very angsty) OR my Raven/Beast Boy multi-chap.
They’re both long lost to the void, but the latter was a reallyyyy dark take on Raven’s demonic father being released on the earth and Raven’s own demonic nature coming to the forefront. The sub-plot was Beast Boy trying to pull her back from all that and remind her that she had a place with the Titans as a hero and wasn’t destined to be like her father just because she shared his blood.
Yeah, my taste in media has stayed pretty consistent lol.
saturday: what gets you excited whilst writing?
Usually just talking to @fuck-you-i-am-spiderman and @telli1206! I know I can always count on them to listen to my wild ideas and share my excitement when I actually get to writing, so we’re often swapping WIP excerpts and talking through plot stuff while we work. I used to be very protective of my rough drafts because I didn’t want anyone to judge my work in that raw form, but Spidey and Telli have helped me chill and learn not to be such a lone wolf as a creator, which has made the whole process a lot more fun and made it easier to get excited about my writing since I’m not as weighted by performance anxiety.
fanfic questions themed around time
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@secondofeternity cont. from here.
The problem with being the Doctor is that sometimes, things have to be done because nobody else is going to do them. Sometimes that’s because the things are difficult. Sometimes it’s because nobody else knows they need to be done. Sometimes, though, that’s because everybody else has just enough common sense and self-preservation skills to know not to do them.
The thing in question, in today’s case, is to stand up to a Vargoi -- a member of a group of aliens the Doctor really should know better than to get into an argument with. They’ve been minding their own business, sitting at a bar on the moon of some planet they were flying past earlier, and really, they could’ve done without this. It’s been a long day. But they heard the commotion and looked over, seeing the Vargoi pushing and shoving his way to the front of the queue, spilling people’s drinks, yanking arms and spitting in the face of the bartender. Everyone is clearly terrified, which is to be expected. Vargoi aren’t known for their peaceful resolutions to conflict.
So the Doctor, being the Doctor, takes it upon themselves to intervene, because nobody else is going to.
That’s how they now find themself here, outside the bar, being beaten to within an inch of their life. They’d like to say they’re giving as good as they’re getting, but they’re really not. They’re on the ground and the Vargoi is coming at them from every angle. It’s all they can do to stay conscious. They’ll endure it, they think. They’ll just lie here and take it until the Vargoi gets bored and moves on, leaving them on the ground to suffer, because that will happen, they’re sure of it. Vargoi might be violent, but they’re generally satisfied with just causing injuries, rather than taking it all the way to murder. At least if he’s out here beating the Doctor up, he’s not inside hurting innocent people.
It doesn’t quite happen that way, though. One minute they’re being punched and kicked all over, and the next, nothing. But there's no final blow, no comment about teaching them a lesson, no footsteps of the Vargoi walking away from them. Slowly, they dare to open their eyes and what they see before them is the last thing they expect.
“You?” they whisper, then clear their throat and speak up, as if to correct their earlier quietness. “You? What are you doing here? I didn’t ask you to do that. I had it under control.”
There was a gentle clicking noise as the Time Lord Victorious twisted the settings on the sonic screwdriver around, switching it back to something less dangerous then having been hit with several high voltages of electricity. Vargoi had a slight amount of metal in their blood streams. It made them highly vulnerable to lightning blasts or other strong amounts of electricity. Something, the sonic screw driver shouldn’t have been able to provide. The Doctor was notorious for being unarmed. Never carrying a gun, not even a knife for self-defence. However after Mars, things had changed, and the Time Lord Victorious had used his experiences to change and alter the sonic for his own ends. And well, taking down one of the Flood infected astronauts had been mildly satisfying to say the least.
The sonic screwdriver disappeared back into his inside pocket. He said: “The Vargoi would have continued to beat you to the point of hospitalisation. I know, we can shake off a lot more then most, but why take a beating, when you could be the one, teaching the thing a lesson? What you did, was merely misdirection. Who’s to say the Vargoi wouldn’t have continued its rampage back in the diner? What would you have done then, silver hairs? You wouldn’t even have been able to get on your own feet.”
“I only wanted to get a drink. Parked only recently. May have been good that I did.” He knelt down and grabbed the Doctor by his arm. Helping his future self onto his feet, the Time Lord Victorious remarked: “I heard this moon’s diner sells some kind of Blue Milk. Always wanted to give that a try. How about we get into the dinner, grab some takeout and then head to your TARDIS’ med bay and I patch you up? Or do you have a companion right now?”
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