[OOC] Writing Meme
Stolen from most of Gene's flist, at this point:
Comment here, with any of your characters and any of my characters (mouseover for journal names), and I will write you a fic. Specifically, I will write you a fic wherein they have OFFSPRING - accidental, surrogate'd, adopted, completely clueless, whatever.
FOAR GRATE LULZ. Or just, y'know, crack.
Comment here, with any of your characters and any of my characters (mouseover for journal names), and I will write you a fic. Specifically, I will write you a fic wherein they have OFFSPRING - accidental, surrogate'd, adopted, completely clueless, whatever.
FOAR GRATE LULZ. Or just, y'know, crack.
trust_mistruth/nowherexboy (OH THE CRACK)
armedandangelic/radiantsoldier
bloodsoulrhythm/ornobodywill
twdenmother/sarkraticmethod
And because I want to see your take it on it, if you so choose to do it:
superiorspectre/sarkraticmethod
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"Okay, fine. Nothing to do with it. Say I believe you... How do we fix it?" Des glared right back at the Time Lord sitting across the table.
Underneath said table, on the floor between them, sat a small child who was currently using a sonic screwdriver to quite intently scan the Master's chair.
"I haven't the faintest idea," said the Master. "If you're so determined to pick my brain, why don't you just walk right up to the members of the Kashtta Trust, who are, at this very moment, looking for me and the Doctor both, and ask them to pretty please give me my memories back so we can fix our tiny, defenseless, and easily-controllable Doctor. I'm sure if you pout endearingly enough, they'll just rush to help ( ... )
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"Fine. Fine. What do we call you?" Des was looking a bit out of his depth, and the Master simply smirked.
"My name's..." and then the boy who insisted on not being the Doctor said something. It was thirty-eight syllables long.
"Riiiight. Anything shorter?" Des looked from the mini-Doctor to the Master.
"Nope! That's my name!"
"Okay. So in the meantime, how about we call you..."
"Theta," the Master filled in. "Just Theta will do, won't it?" A bit of mental exertion, and...
"You're not s'posed to mess with my brain! I'm telling!"The Master rubbed at his temples and growled something else obscene ( ... )
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Theta looked at Des, his brow furrowed. "Boyfriend? Ugh. Don't want one. ...Can I take the other chair apart, too?"
The Master shrugged, using every bit of movement possible to convey his absolute unconcern. "I prefer the term 'creatively moral'."
"Yeah, and I prefer the term, 'annoying guy who I just kicked out of my house'. But look at that. You're still here. Can we fix that?"
"If you insist." The Master shrugged. "There's nothing left for me here, at any rate..."
"But I like Koschei," Theta muttered, gearing up for what was bound to be a sulk of epic proportions.
Des attempted to look stern. "Doc-- Theta. What have I told you about liking evil people?"
"Nothing, really." Des reflected that the Doctor and the Master really shouldn't be allowed to talk in unison. Especially not when the Doctor was ( ... )
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And when they got him back to the age he was supposed to be...
The kitchen door chose that moment to start playing "Forever Young" as he walked through, and Des aimed a kick at it.
"I'm..."
"Telling. I know."
Some days, Des reflected, it really didn't pay to be the Doctor's boyfriend.
...And again, he thought, looking at the boy walking hand-in-hand with the Master, ew.
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"Yeah, and I prefer the term, 'annoying guy who I just kicked out of my house'. But look at that. You're still here. Can we fix that?"
WIN.
"...Des? Can I have a room so I can show it to Koschei?"
MORE WIN.
Getting the evil guy away from his suddenly prepubescent boyfriend -- ew -- was the point.
ALL THE WIN.
AND I AM IN CAPSLOCK MODE, BECAUSE I CAN'T STOP CRACKING UP. THE BANTER IS JUST THAT AWESOME. Seriously, if Des and the Master are half as awesome IN GAME as they are in this fic, I will throw Des at him, like, every chance I get, because... YES.
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Good to know it turned out well. ^_^
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