#vineyard au verse tag

[lightcreators]

@tiimecrash continue from here (Legacy Post during that time)

Sola looked to her partner with a thoughtful expression, soaking up all she could muster from him. He had a lot of extra emotional baggage to him ( as he always had ) and she could only partly sympathize with Koschei in that way. She was not driven to extremes like he was, nor did she openly enjoy harming people. She was quite his opposite in that regard. Even opposite to Theta in a way. She was more gracious, kind, and a tiny bit submissive. However, she could hold her own. She had been for many many years during her travels without both the Master and the Doctor about. She was her own being and could move about freely. Yet something about her didn’t like being parted with Koschei ( in any regenerations ). Something always called her to him, like a ticking clock. A reminder that he was there in her own timestream. At first, she didn’t realize it and it took her a long while to put everything in place with the old war relic’s plan all along. She prided herself on being his chosen assistant. That the old man picked her out of all the beings known to the universe that she alone would help him. How? That part she wasn’t so sure of. All in due time, would she extract Koschei’s plans ( knowing it would take a very long time ). For know, best to play the fool.

Featherine Augustus was a different subject. She only was scratching the surface of that being within her beloved Koschei and Theta ( and to a lesser extent, another very dear companion ). That witch as everyone called her. Sola on the other hand thought of her as stranger. A stranger watching and lurking around her without actually influencing her directly. A bystander in a sense to the Professor’s timestream. Yes, Koschei had done what he had promised to the Time Lady all along: keep her safe. The old war relic had done so for a long long time while they were stuck as a married human couple. Even before that, he protected her in his own way. She knew of his travels as her beloved Maxil as well. a secret she would keep him from knowing. Yet, was the witch aware of that as well? Was this Featherine observing her through her connections to Theta and Koschei? She could sense something was off and knew it was that witch.

“I do know that one of your strongest traits is patience, Koschei. You boast about it and I’ve seen it plenty of times. I on the other hand — I’m not so patient. I wait and wait, but just get irritated with uncertainty. Suppose I’m more the worrier.” a soft frown grew on her lips. She was more human than she realized and something about losing her identity as a Time Lord scared her. She never wanted to forget her race, her culture, herself to the humans she had been living amongst for so long. She knew he would hate for her to be oblivious to her true self. Solasudordax of Gallifrey. She thought he’d find her not useful anymore if she wasn’t her true self. The one her ( as Maxil ) knew. Ah, the subject of Maxil was such a secretive thing. Was this blonde regeneration aware of him? She didn’t think he was and did not really speak about him.

Sola took a breath and tilted her head, thinking long and hard over everything. It seemed like there were a million thoughts ( and mixed memories ) being jarred around inside her head. “Oh? I am?” Another long pause as he explained himself. A small smile was exposed, now glancing to the ground before back up to him. Her confidence seemed to have came back once again. Headstrong but cautious is what Sola was. Outgoing – but quiet. An enigma wrapped up in an awkward body. “You’ve proved enough to me from the beginning, you know. I think I am the one that needs to prove how helpful and needed I am to you. I don’t want to bore any of you. I know some of you think I’m rather — what’s the word — odd.” She was determined to prove to Koschei ( in all forms ) that she was an anchor to him. That he needed her. Sola knew from the old war relic’s meddling with her personal timeline that she was needed ( at-least by him ) and this variant – was wanting to prove to her that she was. It was a match.

“The old man has patients – but it runs very thin with himself.” she half joked. It was true,  the ( War ) Master didn’t care much for any of his other variants. Sola had heard him complain once or twice about them. Shaking her head, she snickered softly. “Then you run the business. Sell the wine. Make the money and let the old man have his agriculture and happy retirement. Let me tend to the gardens and to everything else. The old man can keep our illusion of our peaceful, calm, and protected space. All while you make it even better.” Yes, she was feeding his ego. She knew Koschei ( in any forms she met ) liked that. Though, the old man would probably be upset with her over enjoying his younger blonde variant being here. It was a needed change of pace and for some reason, Sola figured the Master knew it from the begining. She assumed he was always three steps ahead of her in thinking. Yet, the old man was so — cold and asserted over his blonde self. She didn’t understand why. Maybe that was because she was still in her original form? She never experience regenerating before. She came close once or twice, but change was something that confused ( and scared her ).

That  incarnation,  in  front  of  Sola,  always  had  that  terrible  flaw  to  ended  up  thoughtful  in  one  way  or  another.  He  had  been  the  one  most  likely  pulling  her  behind,  partially  bring  her  within  his  emotional  struggles  back  in  the  Valiant  ---  when  he  was  playing  another  game  each  day  inside  that  chessboard,  when  he  was  an  unwanted  player  of  something  he  didn't  have  neither  the  knoweldge  neither  the  control,  associated  to  that  dreadful  bad  sentiment  in  middle  of  an  paradox  he  did  started  to  begin  with.  When  he  had  been  unable,  with  the  remnant  of  an  future  humanity  within  his  hands,  totally  dehumanized  and  totally  within  his  control,  to  facing  otherwise  dehumanized  beings  who  admired  every  one  of  his  moves  with  mockery  !  Back  into  an  time  when  he  had  made  another  kind  of  arrangement,  inside  another  period  when  he  eventually  sold  his  own  survival  towards  an  particular  price  ---  Long  before  losing  every  degree  of  his  sanity  for  the  monster  who  had  becoming  Theta.  Long  before  finding  himself  disillusioned  in  front  of  that  tenth  incarnation  of  his  old  friend  who  wasn't  the  Time  Lord  he  had  been.  Long  before  he  faced  himself  the  witches  realm  with  dear  Lady  Bernkastel,  an  detestable  presence  which  continually  made  fun  of  his  place  as  amateur  in  this  horrible  world.  Long  before  been  trapped  within  an  closed  room  ---  when  he  might  lose  it  an  second  time  when  Theta  would  have  to  explain  to  Sola  that  one  period  when  his  incarnation  had  been  inexplicably  away  for  a  long  time,  considering  he  had  been  beautifully  trapped  within  an  room,  when  he  had  desperately  trying  to  get  out  with  this  damn  chain  that  had  haunted  him  for  hours  !  ---  when  on  that  one,  he  didn't  even  controlled  the  moment  he  had  managed  to  get  out,  for  be  all  part  of  the  experience,  for  be  all  part  of  the  importance  of  logic,  for  be  all  part  of  how  nice  that  punishement  was  !  Even  meanwhile  he  was  slowly  embracing  his  new  alias,  he  noticed  at  once  when  such  features  born  upon  his  wife  face.  If  with  the  old  relic  she  had  been  an  prized  assistant  in  which  the  Doctor  on  that  time  had  desired  protecting  her  though  his  comfort  ---  maybe  the  poor  incarnation  of  the  Doctor  could  blaming  himself  on  that  part,  since  they  will  cross  path  but  not  in  an  kind  and  friendly  way  since  the  Time  War  had  been  an  veil  of  opportunities  until  he  had  that  survival  instinct  to  run  for  survive  !  ---  she  had  been  an  partner  with  his  incarnation.  He  migth  let  her  on  the  dark  over  some  particular  issues  related  to  Theta  mostly  or  even  how  he  got  little  chat  with  Philip  Butler  for  his  biggest  misfortune  or  even  how  he  had  been  trying  to  hope  something  with  that  tenth  Doctor's  incarnation  ---  she  had  been  the  person  besides  Theta  to  welcoming  his  emotions  and  his  aspirations,  and  let  him  be  influenced.  He  would  love  priding  Theta  about  how  much  he  had  been  an  influence  in  middle  of  the  Academy  so  much  he  had  been  troublesome  ---  and  learned  fast---  nevertheless  he  was  the  one,  tragically,  would  have  to influence  an  witch  !

Featherine  Augustus  Aurora  was  another  topic  in  which  Sola  would  have  to  embracing  reality.  He  won't  have  beliving  it  if  someone  would  have  bring  the  memo  than  someday  generous  Time  Lord  called  the  Doctor  would  simply  stole  the  title  of  an  best  friend  he  left  die  within  consciousness  and  be  an  wonderful  monster  deciding  what  he  wanted  with  the  timelines.  Interfering  in  a  much  more  threatened  way  than  even  his  lack  of  interferences  had  immediate  consequences  !  Considering  his  own  species  had  people  who  had  learn  nothing  of  Time  !  Featherine  desired  the  same  protection  he  had  been  offering  to  Sola  ---  hence  she  was  manipulating  him  to  get  what  she  wanted,  for  be  truthfully  honest  over  how  it  happened,  since  he  let  that  eight  incarnation  doing  that  move,  he  let  moments  of  that  tenth  incarnation  HAPPENING,  even  let  him  temporary  win  for  better  taking  over  everything  in  an  higher  scale  ---  nevertheless  remained  in  the  shadows  and  claimed  her  differently.  Right  now,  how  she  claimed  her  differing  of  the  pleasant  prison  inside  his  timeline  was  pretty  much  relative.  Sola  was  allowed  to  be  free,  to  exploring  all  timeline  she  wanted,  to  pass  all  her  time  as  she  desired.  He  was  controlled,  he  could  be  pulled  inside  an  metaphoric  prison  any  time  when  no  one  would  heard  him,  he  was  observed  unless  when  he  found  manners  to  escape  it,  and  as  much  he  could  considering  himself  free  of  moves  thanks  to  his  TARDIS  given  by  his  best  enemy,  he  stayed  tracked.  If  he  was  showing  off  too  much  he  was  the  Master,  he  was  in  trouble.  If  he  was  waiting  alone  for  an  miracle  for  have  the  Doctor  back,  nothing  at  all  will  happened  for  that  wish.  Annoying  Theta  had  turned  something  important  to  his  being,  regardless  how  Theta  returned  the  feelings,  at  least,  that  blonde  fifth  incarnation,  by  trapping  him  somewhere.  He  could  do  something  on  the  tenth,  but  for  that,  he  would  need  to  be  SAW.  As  the  presence  who  remained  at  his  side,  as  the  remnant  of  an  past  ---  forced  to  be  the  one  doing  what  the tenth begged …

Inside  that  bubble  timeline,  Featherine  was  the  person  he  wanted  to  think  the  less.  Removing  fully  Theta  on  his  head  ---  something  he  never  managed  to  do  in  centuries  of  existence,  countless  incarnations  in  which  of  course  he  had  to  bring  his  presence  to  Theta  ---  was  an  difficult  exercice,  as  in  some  manner,  he  was  give  up  something  to  become  stronger  later.  Inside  another  possibility,  he  could  get  Theta  ---  as  the  Doctor  ---  and  Sola  together.  Current  reality  pushed  him  to  pick  Sola  as  his  good  happy  ending,  and  concerning  Theta,  their  galactic  fight  would  take  on  another  meaning,  another  level,  and  another  degree  of  disagreement.  He  coudn't  blaming  his  old  friend  concerning  an  old  promise  though  ---  he  got  to  walking  around  the  stars  with  an  witch,  even  though  his  position  in  the  universe  had  been  pretty  much  stolen.  Some  possibilities  didn't  wanted  to  be  thought  about.  The  Doctor  crossed  path  with  old  friends  of  the  Deca  before,  and  since  his  life  was  threatened  by  influence  on  the  Time  War,  he  wondered  what  kind  of  things  he  could  do  to  his  other  friends.  Using  the  Rani  within  her  experiments  by  becoming  another  experiment,  when  pleasant  MIB  would  touching  delicate  points  in  same  manner  than  him  ?  Offering  to  the  Monk  an  proposition  he  couldn't  refuse  ?  Becoming  an  somber  presence  behind  the  War  Chief,  for  influencing  him  in  another  manner  ?  It  was  on  his  fault  to  never  pondered  too  much  about  positions  of  his  old  friends  since  Theta  becoming  pretty  much  his  single  obsessionby  fucking  up  his  life  !  He  wouldn't  never  imagined  Theta  would  pretty  much  USING  his  friends  as  temporal  experiences as  they  were  toys  !

Compliment  was  really  appreciated.  ❝  Patience  had  been  something  I  have  to  learn  quite  early.  ❞  Built  entire  medding  around  the  Doctor,  since  the  beginning,  since  their  first  reunion,  had  been  something  taking  time,  and  he  rarely  enjoyed  the  Doctor's  presence  as  much  as  he  wanted.  Body  he  had  during  that  blonde  fifth  face  had  been  the  worst  concerning  his  patience.  Every  time,  he  had  to  escaping  an  prison.  Every  time,  he  had  been  fooled  around.  Every  time,  he  had  to  found  an  way  out  of  the  place  he  had  been  brought,  minus  than  one  time  when  Featherine  did  nothing  to  removing  him  of  that  fire  when  all  time  before  he  always  had  been  an  helpful  presence.  He  expressed  Featherine  because  it  had  been  Featherine  ---  aware  of  the  gesture.  Letting  the  script  of  the  timeline  happening.  Letting  his  inexistence  within  that  timeline.  ❝  It  wasn't  like  I  had  a  choice  by  moments.  Without  patience,  nothing  would  have  change.  I  could  have  been  frustrated  I  wanted,  nothing  will  change  of  circumstances  I  was  trapped  in.  ❞  Quality  he  had  been  forced  to  expanding  beyond  anything  else.  If  he  wanted  found  back  the  Doctor  one  day,  he  better  have  to  be  patient.  If  he  wanted  his  miracle  happening,  he  better  have  to  be  patient.  If  he  wanted  showed  his  worth  to  Philip  Butler,  he  better  have  to  be  patient.  ❝  Mh.  You  have  been  spared  a  lot  by  the  travels  you  had  been  doing.  When  everything  is  gentle  with  you,  you  are  used  to  that  kind  of  peaceful  run  of  circumstances.  ❞  He  noticed  slowly  playfully.  She  had  been  human  for  too  long  she  probably  thought  herself  human.  It  was  something  he  understood,  regardless  if  he  was  too  much  Time  Lord  for  get  it  all  ---  since  he  didn't  care  about  them,  compared  to  Theta  and  Sola  ---  though  was  respecteful  over  how  she  needed  landmarks.  Theta  was  beyond  an  Time  Lord  now  since  an  witch,  and  him  represented the  meaning of  an  Time  Lord.

He  nodded  as  she  asked  an  confirmation.  She  had  been  influencing  his  path  more  he  could  tell.  She  had  been  the  meaning  of  an  happiness  he  never  thought  he  would  get  one  day  or  never  imagined  he  was  able  to  care  so  much  over  someone  regardless  how  horrible  he  was.  ❝  It  would  be  tragic  if  the  Master  would  have  to  prove  something  to  the  world.  ❞  He  commented  slowly.  For  little  seconds,  he  preferred  pushed  behind  he  had  to  prove  himself  in  front  of  an  witch.  For  little  seconds,  he  preferred  pushed  behind  how  he  had  to  show  to  timelines  altogether,  to  universes,  to  everyone,  the  Master  was  an  title  meaning  something  when  hold  by  him.  ❝  You  met  me  when  I  had  enough  showing  my  abilities,  and  these  abilities  were  needed.  ❞  He  recalled  slowly,  though  following  laugh  welcomed  the  rest  of  her  sentences.  ❝  You're  not  boring~  I  have  yet  to  prove  myself  as  how,  as  Baxter Lloyd,  simple  man  in  holidays,  I  can  be  amazing~  I  know  with  me  at  your  side,  showing  off  is  quite  difficult  since  it's  my  thing,  but  for  sure,  you  showed  how  competent  you  are  and  will  surely  inscreasing  that  as  time  move  on.  ❞  He  reassured.  There  was  another  laugh.  ❝  Odd  isn't  the  word  I  would  use.  Human,  as  an  reproach.  Human,  as  an  compliment.  ❞  He  nuanced  slowly.  ❝  An  notion  you  know  my  mind  quite  don't  know.  ❞  He  despised  his  former  incarnation  for  quite  that  notion  to  had  touched  human  layers,  regardless  if  in  exchange,  he  became  that  charming  and  emotional  Time  Lord  he  had  becoming.  Extremist  in  every  way  but  clearly  sentimental,  where  he  could  still  laugh  at  the  irony  that  he  was  the  more  humanized  compared  to  Featherine  !  Within  his  expression,  he  understood  her  need  to  prove  herself.  He  understood  her  need  to  showing  how  much  he  neded  her.  He  needed  her.  It  was  an  statement.  He  needed  her,  so  she  could  do  whatever  she  wanted, he will support her.

Another  laugh  followed.  ❝  A  family  reunion  with  myself  would  end  in  massacre.  I'm  very  lucky  that  this  old  crouton  has  put  up  with  me  for  a  long  time  now.  ❞  He  joked  back.  Insults  naturally  showing  up  when  it  was  about  other  incarnations  concerning  himself,  hence  he  had  no  doubts  the  old  man  cannot  resist  one  or  two  during  his  absence.  He  couldn't  handle  himself.  It  was  just  the  way  it  was.  Maybe  that  rule  could  be  broke  for  the  poor  boy  he  had  been  at  the  Academy,  unaware  about  how  eventful  and  difficult  the  rest  of  his  life  will  be  but  well  ---  even  to  that  version  of  himself,  he  wanted  proving  a  miracle  could  be  made,  past  moments  could  be  relived.  As  nothing  happened  between  him  and  Theta,  as  nothing  happened  when  an  murder  happened,  as  nothing  happened  when  Theta  left  him  behind  afterwards  be  reason  of  murders  of  two  of  their  friends  already  with  the  Celestial  Toymaker,  as  nothing  will  broke  their  closeness  …  Hence,  his  expression  reached  another  dimension  of  interest  in  front  of  Sola  sentences.  How  an  amazing  flattered  smile  born  within  his  expression.  ❝  You're  right.  ❞  He  expressed  with  an  smirk  as  it  could  making  it  an  pure  reality.  ❝  Without  me,  the  business  isn't  going  to  get  far,  so  I  have  just  to  embrace  everything  as  much  I  wanted  to  do  since  the  beginning.  Be  the  one  ruling  and  let  the  old  man  enjoying  the  tranquility.  ❞  It  was  also  part  of  his  plans.  The  old  man  needed  to  remain  protected  and  ignorant  of  his  problems  with  Featherine  for  get  things  done.  ❝  Though  I  will  enjoy  the  tranquility  too,  on  my  own  manner,  with  more  dynamism.  I  have  handled  other  matters  heavier  than  that  so  everyone  will  worship  us~  Do  you  know  how  much  I  love  you~  ?  ❞  He  smirked  as  watching  her.

[lodessa]

Fic Writer Tag Game

tagged by @janiedean, @thank-god-and-you, and @fanoftheknight!

AO3 name: lodessa 

Fandoms:  Okay, I’m splitting this up because I have written in too many!

Major:

Star Trek: Voyager (72)

Game of Thrones / A Song of Ice and Fire (48)

Real Person Fiction (24)

Veronica Mars (24)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (21)

Mid-level:

Buffy the Vampire Slayer /Angel the Series (15)

Star Trek: Discovery (10)

The Office (US) (8)

Doctor Who (6)

Revolution (TV) (6)

Firefly/Serenity (6)

Grey's Anatomy (5)

I Dabbled:

Longmire (TV) (4)

The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher (4)

Arthurian Mythology (3)

Arrow (TV 2012) (3)

His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman (2)

Ancient Greek Religion & Lore (2)

Bones (TV) (2)

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (2)

Codex Alera - Jim Butcher (2)

One Offs:

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Dollhouse, Almost Human, Star Trek: The Next Generation, iZombie, Watchmen, Big Love, Babylon 5, Rome Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Journeyman.

Number of fics: 276!

Fic I spent the most time on: Salvation and Rapture For the Lonely (Doctor Who, Martha/Nine), which I started in 2008 and finished in 2018!

Fic I spent the least time on: That is a many way tie.  I used to write a lot of short quick things.

Longest fic: (Discounting my co-authored works) Parameters (Star Trek: Voyager, Janeway/Chakotay) at 46,345 words.

Shortest fic: One Dance (Star Trek: Voyager, Janeway/Chakotay) at 141 words (because I tend to stash drabbles into a work collecting multiple rather than spam the tag)

Most hits: Temptations of the Flesh (A Song of Ice and Fire, Jon Snow/Melisandre, Sansa/Littlefinger) at 15,327 hits (apparently people really like dark fic)

Most kudos: Parameters (Star Trek: Voyager, Janeway/Chakotay) at 507 kudos.

Most comment threads: Dragon Marked (Game of Thrones, Daenerys/Jorah) with 92 comment threads for the 8 currently published chapters... which I really need to continue.

Most bookmarks: No Longer the Maid of Tarth (A Song of Ice and Fire, Jaime/Brienne) with 78 bookmarks

Total word count:  872,893 words

Favourite fic I wrote: I am terrible with favorites... truly. 

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

Not counting my WIPs (Stumbling [Star Trek: Voyager, Janeway/Chakotay], k’war’ma’khon [Star Trek: Discovery], and Dragon Marked [Game of Thrones, Dany/Jorah]. ) 

I would say The Smallest Twine (Star Trek: Voyager, Janeway/Chakotay... though the two planned sequels open up into TNG and DS9 as well), which is an AU Prequel for Voyager, but also sets up the possibility of a very different trajectory for the end of the Cardassian War (as explored by all three 24th century Trek series).  Butterfly effect and all that.  

Share a bit of a WIP or a story idea you’re planning on:

Since I was tagged multiple times, I’ll preview a couple things I am (theoretically) working on.

For @janiedean, my ASOIAF book!verse canon compliant Jaime/Brienne, Davos/JonC, Sansa/Aegon someday maybe epic:

“I thought she’d be safe here…” Brienne called out to herself as much as Jaime as their captors shoved her forward away from him, feeling foolish for having thought the wars would have left her home untouched.  “I thought we all would be.”

I should have known, she felt, even as she knew there was no reason for her to have suspected.  Perhaps, if they had lingered longer in White Harbor, they might have heard word of the raids surrounding Cape Wrath.  But how could they have?  They were none of them inconspicuous, even with Sansa’s hair dyed.

The Kingslayer and two women who half of Westeros believed to be the same. A fine catch for mercenaries to sell to the highest bidder.   How could you have been so stupid? she berated herself.

That said, though the Golden Company named Westeros as their home, these men came from Essos, perhaps these soldiers wouldn’t recognize the maimed lion they had captured, wouldn’t see the wolf disguised as a bird.

Brienne, alone, was not worth ransoming to anyone other than her own father, surely.   Assuming he was alive to ransom her to, that was.  Brienne shuddered to think of the alternative, of some mercenary captain who decided he wanted to legitimize his claim to this island, no matter the cost, no matter how her already ugly face had been disfigured.

For @memoir-of-stars and @fanoftheknight, the drunken Dany/Jorah Game of Thrones AU fic I promised someone (I think it was @salzrand) last summer:

“The Donrish seem to have as many vineyards as the Dothraki have horses,” he heard Daenerys remark to Jorah, leaning halfway over him to look out the carriage window, her hand gripping his shoulder for balance.

“You wouldn’t think it, with the price the resulting wine fetches,” Ser Jorah replied, catching Daenerys with surprisingly steady hands as the carriage hit a rock and jostled them all.  

Daenerys allowed herself to be drawn back down onto the cushions beside Mormont, curling herself up against his side and resting her head against his shoulder.   Tyrion wasn’t sure what to make of the tableau they formed, her so slight and blossoming and him solid and weathered.  Mormont, he knew, was devoted to Daenerys beyond any doubt, and in every sense of the word but he was beginning to suspect he’d misjudged the nature Daenerys’ attachment to her bear, as she could so often be overheard calling Ser Jorah.

“Lemon trees!” the queen called out in obvious delight, interrupting Tyrion’s musing and reminding him once again how young the usually composed Daenerys really was.

And one more for good measure (since that was three tags), the Deanna Troi/Jadzia Dax Star Trek: TNG and DS9 crossover PWP I need to finish someday

“I hope I’m not overstepping.”

Standing in her doorway is Deanna Troi, Daughter of the Fifth House of Betazed, all soft curls and soft curves and a gentle unpresuming air that contradicts and heightens the impact of those things.  Jadzia is intrigued… okay she was already intrigued: now she’s closer to enchanted.

“Step all you want,” Jadzia keeps the tone of flirtatiousness in her voice light, knowing that the empathic counselor will be bound to notice it but letting it be something she can choose to react to or not.

Doubtless, she’s here about Worf.   She’s pretty sure everyone from here to the promenade heard their last row and, of course, Troi was there for the start of it.   

That’s okay with Jadzia.  There aren’t that many people who’ve seen certain sides of Worf, who understand him. (Sometimes Jadzia isn’t even sure she’d put herself in that number.)  It would be a relief to talk to someone who gets it.

“I feel like I owe you an apology, Jadzia.  Is it alright if I call you Jadzia?”

You could call me just about anything and I’d like it,  that wicked little Dax voice suggests, but it just brings a smile to her face.

Tagging: @joyful-voyager, @toas-tea, @ghostcat3000, @pixiedane, and @sophia-helix.

[lightcreators]

@tiimecrash​ continue from here

“Baxter? I like it. It suits you.” she smiled to him. She could understand his need to use a new alias other than Harold Saxon again. That alias would cause some issues for him and they did not need that here in their private bubbled timeline. This was a safe place, and untouched by any other Time Lords but themselves. She arched a brow to him wanting to rule an island. Perhaps there was an unclaimed island someplace that he could rule  and she could be an empress. However, the prospect of ruling over anything ( or anyone ) didn’t suit her. If she were to rule, she’d be kind and just, allowing her husband to do everything else. “You want to rule an island? Maybe we could go look for one here, I’m sure there’s an undiscovered on someplace.” she mused, approaching her husband as her hues looked him over. He looked very calm here, much like his previous incarnation did.

The  thought  still  amusing  him  :  settle  down.  Him,  among  the  various  Time  Lords,  deciding  to  take  similiar  path  of  Theta  who  decided  to  settling  down  inside  time  …  meanwhile  he  was  requesting  normality  —  him,  among  all  people.  By  the  discovery  of  that  letter  of  an  unknown  source  about  such  timeline,  he  pondered  possibilities  between  that  place,  unreached  opportunities  too.  Nevertheless,  heaviness  of  his  timeline  had  becoming  …  too  much.  He  was  tired  to  been  nothing  more  than  an  flattering  shadow  in  Theta’s  eyes.  He  was  tired  to  wait  for  a  miracle  he  didn’t  saw  happening,  neither  an  triggering  sensation  the  Doctor  was  still  there  somewhere,  inside  these  pensive  brown  eyes  who  pictured  existence  differently.  As  tragic  at  it  was,  he  did  witnessed  the  universe  with  his  old  friend,  he  did  managed  to  get  an  long  time  ago  promise  fullfilled  …  where  he  had  been  his  oldest  friend  holding  power  over  that  dimension  he  knew  nothing.  However,  he  wasn’t  a  witch,  and  cannot  gasp  by  himself  all  the  concept  of  Game  Master  by  simply  be  an  observer.  However,  it  was  different  of  everything  he  imagined,  when  he  was  standing  as  a  moral  compass  when  it  should  be  the  opposite,  where  he  should  be  the  one  been  stopped  inside  his  actions  by  his  friend.  The  pain  turned  heavy  he  needed  somewhere  inside  that  large  universe  where  he  could  be  at  peace.  Nevertheless,  it  remained  painful  to  his  own  thoughts  to  been  forced  to  push  back  behind  his  alias  of  Harold  Saxon.  Casualness  in  uncontrolled  emotionality,  sweet  pleasures  of  having  influence  on  the  world,  pronounced  taste  for  suits  anchored  him  inside  that  incarnation.  That  alias  was  part  of  him  (  regardless  if  every  fiber  of  such  condition  had  been  belonging  to  an  preetablished  script  )  so  personally  that  he  made  fun  of  breaking  his  own  fashion  code  —  an  British  man  in  holiday,  who  accidentally,  was  avoiding  presence  of  the  underground,  meanwhile  be  tempted  to  inflitrate  them.  Finishing  cleaning  his  glasses  he  had  a  little  satisfied  smile.    ❝  Glad  you’ve  love  it.  Baxter  Lloyd,  local  British  man  in  holiday,  when  nothing  can  go  wrong  obviously.    ❞  He  grinned.  There  was  an    irony  as  he  found  catchy  the  idea  to  owning  an  island.  As  he  was  catching  up  something  in  mild  air  of  the  atmosphere.  Theta  never  talked,  Theta  never  expressed  a  thing  about  how  suddently  he  discovered  that  kind  of  ‘witches’,  though  he  understood  an  tragedy  underneath,  though  there  was  still  a  mystery  around  Lady  Bernkastel  connection  towards  the  Time  Lord  …  though  he  experienced  simply  faraway  elements  of  the  reason  who  changed  his  oldest  friend,  enough  to  do  it  five  incarnations  prior.  Somewhere,  that  sound  strangely  right,  on  point.  Somewhere,  there  was  an  comforting  sentiment  he  could  be  the  Master  of  an  entire  island,  if  he  didn’t  know  if  there  would  be  people.  There  was  an  pleasant  laugh.  Beyond  all  the  humans  consideration,  there  was  also  the  underground  consideration  he  would  have  to  take  care.  Or  even  simplicity  of  name  of  such  island.  It  was  only  musings  thoughts,  nothing  too  much  important.  Putting  his  glasses  back  on,  he  completed.    ❝    Owning  an  island  would  be  more  accurate.  Having  an  manor  all  by  himself.  Having  the  entire  forest  for  myself,  be  the  king  of  the  night.  Even  privatize  it,  and  be  another  vacation  spot  where  all  the  wealth  I  would  have  accumulated  could  be  kept.  where  I  would  be  the  king  of  my  own  kingdom,  able  to  raise  my  glory  as  much  as  I  wish.    ❞  His  smile  inscreased.    ❝  It  would  be  interesting  to  research.    ❞

[lightcreators]

@tiimecrash continue from here

A soft ( yet amused ) smiled graced the Professor’s lips. She was surprised to say the least that her husband the current one here in France allowed this regeneration to come visit their little safe space. Their protected timeline, but she did have a small part in talking her old man into letting his future self stay there. She looked over to him, as she was puttering away in the small garden near the home. He allowed her freedom to have her gardens and plants along with his vineyard. After all, she could possibly be the reason he became interested in botany in the first place. “You can thank the old man for picking it out. He’s got an eye for beautiful things.” a small chuckled escaped her lips. Where the old man was, she didn’t know. Sometimes he would leave when his future self showed up, but not always.

She knew her husband ( in any form ) had business to attend to. Plans upon plans of the secretive nature. He was not a good person in actions. He had done horrible things but somehow she forgave him for it. All at the cost of this safe place with him. Was it a foolish move? Perhaps, but she was better safe than on the other end of his plans. She loved him, more than anything. That’s why she forgave his monstrosities during the time war, and he was making it up to her. A small formed on her lips, watching her husband reading his book about viticulture. Strange he needed a book for something he should know about. “Since when do you need glasses?” she laughed some, putting her pruning equipment away and approached him. “ -- they suit you. It makes you look --- dignified. I quite like it.”

A grin on her lips, she rounded the chair he was sitting in, before ruffling his hair. Standing behind him, she leant over to take a look over the book on viticulture.  Shaking her head. she kissed his temple. Here in this little timeline - this safe space she was free to be romantic. “Did he make you read this? I bet he did, he thinks you of all people don’t know how to take care of your own bloody vineyard.” That’s when she looked at the rows of vines out in the pasture. She knew for a fact his previous self thought he wasn’t competent enough to know anything. It was silly, she thought.  She sighed happily before sitting in a chair next to her husband. “The real question is, are you happy here?” she asked him.

Cooperate  with  himself  sounded  most  conceivable  improbability,  though  every  day,  he  could  feel  how  perfected  it  could  be,  how  magnificient  as  a  teamwork  they  could  work  —  minus  usual  argue  about  their  diverging  opinions,  when  he  was  pleased  the  old  man  remained  over  his  exasperation  of  ‘the  youth’  when  his  views  displeased  the  incarnation  he  had  been  …  All  things  considered,  it  was  an  nice  reflection,  an  funny  show  in  which  he  could  reflecting  himself  physically  and  when  his  thoughtfulness  wasn’t  minded.  His  previous  self  also  had  his,  and  regardless  about  being  himself,  he  won’t  never  exploded  layers  of  his  current  mindset,  leave  an  complete  mask  over  his  thoughts,  inside  that  sensitivity  carefulness  he  remembered  so  clearly.  That  old  man  decided,  inside  that  mountain  of  irony,  to  calling  himself  Yana  —  where  he  couldn’t  hardly  called  him  an  'helper’  but  an  hard-worked  instead,  so  meticulous  that  he  didn’t  want  the  youth  to  spoil  the  meaning  of  his  actions.  It  was  an  changing  overlook  hence  he  remained  amused  most  of  times,  and  acted  with  his  annoyance  in  an  healthy  way  he  wouldn’t  have  never  imagined  before.  Inside  that  little  vineyard,  while  he  strove  to  make  the  business  as  lucrative  as  possible  and  the  old  man  strove  to  give  the  best  of  qualities,  he  cannot  speak  of  Featherine.  Or  the  MIB  who  had  been  endlessly  watching  over  him  until  he  came  into  that  closed  timeline,  inside  that  protective  bubble,  as  he  came  to  flee  to  seek  peace  …  Maybe,  from  another  dimension  perspective,  they  were  resumed  to  been  watched,  but  with  an  most  understanding  and  silent  gaze  …  He  personally  offered  endless  comedy.

As  much  he  desired  to  take  back  an  old  alias  of  his,  as  much  he  wanted  once  more  reach  higher  spheres  inside  the  human  society  for  having  his  needs  of  power  fullfilled,  he  couldn’t.  He  couldn’t  neither  risking  Featherine  spotting  his  previous  self  …  who  had  run  away  of  the  War,  run  away  of  Gallifrey,  run  away  of  every  opportunity  available  on  his  spot  …  who  had  running  away  differently  in  the  way  he  eventually  came  into  existence,  where  there  was  reassurance  no  one  would  found  him  …  It  was  no  point  to  speak  about  Theta.  Besides,  he  learned  existence  of  such  place  thanks  to  a  letter,  who  invited  him  to  cooperation  …  in  which  he  guessed  he  must  had  been  himself  who  inclining  him  to  visiting  himself.  Though,  in  no  way,  there  was  intent  to  act  like  Theta  did  with  himself.  He  wanted  a  true  and  clear  parternship  between  each  other.  Besides,  he  was  an  settled  down  visitor,  discovering  shape  reality  of  an  chessboard  having  an  Game  Master,  where  he  could  learn  more  than  simply  keep  an  business  going  …  beyond  to  just  touch  happiness  he  longed  for.  Tiredness  had  been  weighting  within  the  previous  weeks  before  his  arrival  here.  That  old  man  didn’t  comment  over  how  emotionally  destroyed  he  looked,  weight  of  these  things  left  unsaid,  from  heaviness  of  an  imprecise  truth  of  the  future  …  where  mentally,  he  didn’t  wanted  to  been  constantly  watched.  Where  emotionally,  he  needed  a  break.  Hence  he  decided  to  treat  that  newest  experience  as  a  'holiday’,  and  for  make  such  experience  worthwhile,  deleting  any  kind  of  potential  problems,  to  take  comedy  taste  at  his  higher.  He  was  going  to  appear  friendliest  possible,  giving  himself  friendliest  appearance  even  if  it  meant  changing  his  dress  code  which  was  more  in  keeping  with  the  season  of  the  place,  let  an  obvious  charm  shine  through,  and  take  every  day  as  a  good  entertainment  opportunity.  He  was  on  fringe  just  before  he  mentally  exploded  and  listened  uncontrolled  urges  for  reinforced  violence.  He  would  get  what  he  wanted  with  a  beautiful,  flirtatious,  deceptive  smile,  and  gain  the  control  he  wanted  while  remaining  harmless.  It  would  be  impossible  to  do  great  things  initially,  which  frustrated  him,  but  eventually  he  would.  He  would  understand  how  to  truly  be  a  Master  of  these  chessboards  he  had  crossed  so  many  times.  He  would  finally  figure  out  how  to  put  himself  on  an  equal  footing  with  Featherine.  While  allowing  himself  to  no  longer  be  chained  in  the  invisible  chains  that  had  nailed  him  to  the  ground  …  him,  the  man  who  fled  to  bounce  back  better,  what  a  twist  !

Her  presence  was  making  the  entire  difference.  He  was  probably  only  one  of  his  selves  that  would  be  allowed  to  stay  here  as  long  as  he  wanted  —  he  noticed,  firstly,  how  their  gaze  met  and  mutually  understood  each  other,  wordlessly.  The  old  man  was  perceiving  the  kind  of  suffering  he  would  eventually  live,  or  sparing  himself  by  staying  inside  his  little  protective  bubble.  He  could  understood  exactly  where  that  old  man  was  standing.  Reason  who  pushed  him  to  act  that  way  this  time  —  influenced  maybe  by  the  same  person  —  meanwhile  keeping  his  old  secrets.  Knowing  himself,  he  avoid  been  around  when  the  old  man  showed  desires  to  remaining  alone  with  his  wife.  In  some  compromise,  he  had  to  'share’  her  with  himself  ;  in  which  he  was  an  welcomed  bonus.  On  the  opposite,  sometimes  afterwards  some  conversations  like  himself  like  he  did  previously,  the  old  man  returned  to  some  discrete  business  he  wasn’t  aware  of.  An  laugh  welcomed  his  expression  as  he  watched  her.  Appreciating  the  gentleness  of  her  various  names  around  that  place.  Sola,  the  Time  Lady  he  had  been  in  his  care  since  the  Time  War,  where  he  would  always  make  sure  she  was  safe.  Jamie,  her  public  name  in  which  he  had  been  the  one  who  return  her  over  who  she  was.  Or  the  Professor,  when,  amusingly,  she  also  had  been  one  with  him  —  over  one  discrete  subject  where  that  place  was  all  about.    ❝  Thank  you  for  the  compliment  in  retrospective.    ❞  He  bounced  back  with  a  laugh.    ❝  Even  if  the  old  man  knows  embellish  beauty  of  a  place,  I’ll  compliment  him  later,  and  I  imagine  he’ll  still  complain  about  recklessness  of  youth.    ❞  He  noticed  her  surprise.  His  previous  self  had  been  sharing  an  speech  on  a  fermentation  of  wine,  and  in  front  of  his  obvious  lack  of  interest  from  so  much  passion,  he  had  invited  him  to  document  himself  —  a  polite  way  to  recognize  his  art.  It  was  only  very  easily  controllable  constraint  he  would  have:  himself.  Naturally,  he  was  only  person  he  couldn’t  stand  in  his  different  degrees.  It  was  an  issue  with  themselves.  An  following  laugh  echoed,  before  smiling  lovingly  towards  the  compliment.    ❝  It’s  for  the  style.    ❞  He  admitted.    ❝  It  makes  me  look  charming  and  adorable.  Although  I  am  flattered  by  the  compliment.  The  serious  man  in  a  suit  and  tie,  with  a  half-pout  expression,  doesn’t  really  make  a  man  on  vacation.    ❞  There  was  another  laugh,  as  he  leaved  out  his  book  for  watching  over  her.  Smiling  even  more  lovingly  as  she  kissed  his  temples,  leaving  a  little  his  book  for  touch  one  of  her  hands  before  been  further  amused.    ❝  He  finds  that  youth  has  a  side  that  is  a  little  too  reckless.  I  was  so  picky  at  that  time.  The  poor  old  man  mustn’t  know  what  it  is  to  have  fun,  I  will  have  to  show  him.  He  gave  me  a  whole  talk  about  fermenting  wine,  and  I  almost  rolled  my  eyes  that  he  invited  me  to  educate  myself.  I’m  a  businessman,  what  I  want  is  for  it  to  work.  It  shouldn’t  be  surprising  if  the  farmer  forgets  this  notion  for  focus  over  details.    ❞  His  amused  smile  inscreased.    ❝  Do  I  look  unhappy  ?  The  first  time  I  came  here,  I  had  a  depressed  expression  that  I  didn’t  imagine  it  could  stop.  What  could  I  complain  about  but  myself  ?    ❞

[lightcreators]

look at me meme / @tiimecrash​

F  e  a  t  h  e  r  i  n  e

That  name  he  breathed  internally  for  he  didn’t  know  how  many  times,  crushing  that  fucking  witch  to  be,  indeed,  at  greatnesss  of  reputation  associated  to  her  …  that  threatening  shadow  controlling  the  threads  of  people’s  life,  who  generated  an  play  behind  players  back  …  who  acted  unconcerned  about  consequences  of  her  actions,  about  how  damages  she  could  bring  …  that  name  wearing  by  his  old  friend,  the  name  in  which  he  craved  to  find  miserable  expressions  coming  from  the  Time  Lord  who  was  devoted  himself  to  save  people  …  that  name  who  destroyed  his  friend,  twice,  into  different  circumstances,  where  he  had  been  left  in  the  dark  on  why,  where  he  won’t  probably  never  know  the  reason  of  why  he  had  become  such  a  bitch  …  He  wasn’t  the  first  time  the  Doctor  kindly  put  him  in  the  closet.  Be  trapped  inside  another  planet,  with  important  elements  of  his  TARDIS  removed,  left  behind  inside  complete  loneliness  somewhere  when  he  won’t  have  to  think  about  him  —  that  incarnation  regularly  did  it  to  him.  How  many  times  he  had  passed  trying  to  overcome  the  Doctor’s  actions  …  he  didn’t  wanted  to  remember.  Not  when  that  incarnation  face  will  haunt  him  in  one  way  or  another.  Not  when  he  won’t  never  be  removed  of  that  incarnation  who  lived  inside  a  world  without  him  …  For  too  long,  he  wanted  to  believe  that  face  wasn’t  bloody  serious.  It  had  to  be  empty  words,  right  ?  That  threat  to  removing  him  from  existence  implicity  expressed  when  he  sweetly  manipulating  him  by  let  him  rule  the  Earth  temporary,  by  let  him  release  a  paradox  that  will  be  his  tomb  ?  That  threat  to  lock  him  away  ?  That  thread  he  could  control  his  life  if  he  wanted  to  ?  That  pressure  he  never  was  going  to  know  any  kind  of  pleasant  peace,  that  he  will  always  be  observed  ?  It  had  to  be  …  He  wanted  to  believe  it  was.  That  fucking  witch  saved  somewhere  his  damn  life  when  he  lost  against  that  bloody  bitch  who  anticipated  his  every  move  inside  the  Year  who  Never  Was,  who  knew  perfectly  how  emotionally  his  actions  will  impacting  his  future,  who  fucking  knew  he  had  damned  himself  when  he  thought  he  could  be  the  winner  ?  How  many  people  did  he  killed  during  that  time  ?  How  many  billions  of  life  he  had  destroyed  who  had  been  rewritten  inside  some  planified  scheme  ?  How  many  of  his  crimes  becoming  that  bitch’s  responsibilities  when  he  was  the  one  supposed  to  hold  them  ?  There  was  no  desire  to  speak  up  over  that  tenth  incarnation  who  suffered  beautifully  from  his  hands.  Incarnation  of  the  Doctor  he  knew  had  been  pleasant  pawn,  had  been  controlled  by  another  one  of  his  incarnations  …

How  many  times  he  passed  inside  that  closed  room  …  He  was  unable  to  tell.  Sometimes,  there  was  sound  of  chatter  he  cannot  truly  understand,  far  away  of  his  position,  as  a  eternal  sign  of  hope  of  compagny  and  a  presence  who  was  out  of  his  reach  …  There  was  the  sound  of  his  rain,  who  generated  sometimes  gentleness  inside  that  loneliness.  Otherwise,  there  was  only  him  and  his  room,  where  he  guessed  quite  enough  that  place  was  belonging  to  Earth.  Where,  he  hadn’t  been  able  to  truly  tell.  There  was  nothing.  No  indication.  No  distinctive  sign  of  the  where  have  been  annotated.  There  was  no  papers.  There  was  no  books.  There  was  no  way  to  write  something.  There  was  no  phone  around.  An  bedroom  as  any  bedroom,  who  had  quite  nice  decoration  —  a  bathroom  where  at  times  he  could  believe  drops  of  water  had  fallen  …  Nothing  else.  An  special  closet  in  which  there  was  nothing,  truly  nothing  to  get  him  out  of  his  loneliness.  Coming  from  Theta,  it  had  been  such  a  asshole  move  !  It  was  possibly  the  single  person  in  the  world  who  knew  where  he  came  from  when  he  had  been  a  kid,  single  person  in  the  world  who  knew  how  much  he  had  suffer  of  that  loneliness  for  be  the  one  who saved  him  !  Even  today,  even  now  he  was  out,  even  now  he was physically out  …  mental  turmoil  about  that  lock  still  repeated  inside  his  mind.  The  reason  about  why  that  chain  had  to  show  up  around  his  neck  when  he  was  acting  on  the  lock  …  The  reason  of  that  pressuring  atmosphere  of  something  sinister  hiding  inside  the  room  …  The  sudden  brutal  welcoming  laugh  of  a  witch  …  eternal  sound  of  the  chain  …    eternal  sound  of  the  lock  ...  Why  did  it  had  to  be  broken  ?  Why  couldn’t  it  work  normally  ?  Emptiness  of  his  eyes,  who  had  betrayed  his  eyes  since  a  long  time,  hadn’t  been  able  to  removing  over  an  somber  expression.  There  was  an  attached  absence  associated  to  his  gaze.  Sounds  of  his  TARDIS,  regardless  how  black  the  console  room  had  been,  had  been  recollection  of  that  room  …  as  he  sensed  he  was  going  to  eternally  facing  that  loneliness  …  as  he  was  scared  to  be  left  down  inside  such  room  …  It  had  been  merely  kindness  coming  from  that  witch.  There  was  worse  places  existing.  There  was  worse  hell  existing  in  the  world.  No  matter  how  much  he  was  watching  the  world  around  him,  he  wasn’t  sure  how  real  it  was.  How  could  he  be  sure  he  was  truly  out  ?  Maybe  did  eventually  he  imagined  his  exit,  that  possibility  he  had  been  out  for  better  cope  he  wasn’t  out  ?  Sola’s  expression,  inside  worries  of  his  wife  towards  him,  wanted  to  be  reassuring,  as  always.  Nevertheless,  he  had  no  words  to  express  anymore.  Nevertheless,  he  had  no  smile  to  offer.  He  wasn’t  even  sure  to  be  out.  He  wasn’t  even  sure  if  that  punishment  was  truly  be  finished.  There  was  a  lack  of  physical  answer  when  she  touched  her  chin,  when  even  sounds  of  his  TARDIS  remained  distant  —  as  it  wasn’t  truly  here,  as  he  wasn’t  truly  here.

He  had  to  say  something.  Something.  Just  something.  Just  a  single  word  …  The  Doctor  was  dead.  It  was  an  truth  he  would  have  to  accept  at  some  point.  Others  circumstances,  something  who  happened,  something  he  wasn’t  aware  of,  killed  the  Doctor  he  knew  so  intimately.  The  Doctor  didn’t  existed  anymore.  Not  inside  his  fifth  incarnation  for  sure  …  where  he  wished  someday  saving  the  tenth  of  same  fate  over  that  circle  he  had  been  pulled  in  …  Watching  over  his  wife,  there  was  a  silent  vow  of  protection  towards  her.  Featherine  will  not  touch  her.  Oh,  by  all  his  incarnations,  that  fucking  witch  will  not  fucking  manipulate  his  wife.  Something,  something  …  He  really  had  to  say  something.    ❝  Last  few  days  have  been  complicated  …    ❞  He  didn’t  know  how  many  times  had  passed  for  him.  He  didn’t  know  how  many  times  had  passed  for  her.  He  honestly  disliked  it,  but  he  needed  to  give  a  reason.  Explaining  why  he  had  been  absent.  Explain  why  he  hadn’t  been  present  and  why  she  cannot  find  him  ….  Featherine  put  me  in  the  closet.  It  was  what  he  desired  too  much  to  say.    ❝  I  was  held  against  my  will.    ❞