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neveralarchFrom a lot of people and mostly because I liked everyone else's and I also hoard unfinished fics.
When you see this, post an excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
What I have lying around is pretty evenly divided into stuff I haven't finished, stuff that's finished but I haven't energy/the nerve to post, and stuff that I'm never going to finish, ever, because it's far too self-indulgent.
AI BDSM - an awkward Shalka fic
An artificial blackness settles in on the Master as the Doctor deactivates his eyes. The Master fidgets uncomfortably for a moment to regain his bearings, getting used to the lack of sight. He's naked and spread-eagled on the bed, and he's actually glad of it. It means he can feel the sheets with every inch of his skin, reassure himself that everything's still there even without the ability to visually observe it.
"Neatly done," he says, tilting his head up and around so he can talk to the Doctor instead of mumbling into the bed. "Might I ask why we're doing this?"
This is done, I just have to deal with it a little more - editing and getting over how weird it is.
---
Simm!Master does drugs
The Doctor looked Cannabis up, after he figured out what was going on, and, as far as he can tell, the Master's been high practically every minute of his life. Paranoia, introspection, altered state of consciousness, joviality, increased appreciation of music, and so on and so on. The Master was already watching Teletubbies every day and trying to have long discussions about Europop.
Pretty much what it says on the tin, which is why I haven't gotten back to it.
---
Ten drabbles about sleep
Dark rings around the Master's eyes, and the Doctor can't tell if it's the make-up or sleep deprivation. He'd bet on the second, however. This whole plan just seems like the sort of thing you think is a good idea after one late night too many, and you shout at the world 'I know! I'll stop the Magna Carta!'
Which are finished, except they're not drabbles, and I don't like a couple of them. There's one for each regeneration except Eleven, and they were all written past 1 am. I haven't decided if editing should also take place in the wee hours or not (it sounds like a bad idea, honestly).
---
John Noble and General Glover (Handy/Master)
The Master doesn't look up when John enters his office.
"Doctor John Noble, right? Have a seat, please."
John does so.
"Your resume is good, but I'm afraid your previous boss has raised some questions about, well, your stability. If you can dispel those, I'm sure you'll soon find a place here at the armed forces."
"I'm sure I can do that."
The Master looks confused, and looks up quickly.
"You!"
"Me. Well, sort of."
This is one of the extremely self-indulgent ones. Metacrisis Ten has gender identity issues, relationship issues, and also just plain identity issues. The Master has fallen through the rift and is trying to take over. I had fun with it, but I dunno if anyone else would want to read it - there are about a dozen of these fics online.
---
KoschEight (the best pairing name ever)
Koschei's not that young. It seems like he is, but that's mostly because the Doctor's an old man, well, not old, but he certainly feels old in comparison. Koschei's eighty-four. The Doctor's eight hundred and four (maybe. The number's an estimate, chosen more for its neat symmetry for comparison purposes.) That is, admittedly, a large gap. But Koschei is out of school, in his second regeneration, and well on his way to creating a career that he will pursue for almost fifty years before getting fed up and moving out to conquer the galaxy. He's an adult, with an adult's needs, and desires, and stamina...
The Doctor realizes that he's talking himself into seducing Koschei, and has to go read a book to distract himself.
The books the TARDIS provides (Lolita, Death in Venice, The Reader) are not very good distractions.
I will finish this fic, even if I'm the only one who wants it. Partly it's the pairing name, partly that I was taking a class on German lit and reading Death in Venice and The Reader, but mostly it's just that Eight is so much fun to write.
---
Morals (Five/Ainley!Master)
"You don't feel any moral compunction? None at all?" The Doctor tried to keep his voice steady, but it came out as flat, dead.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" His tone wavered.
"Because I'm making you upset."
Okay, so I was reading Schopenhauer. This is done, I just don't know if anyone else wants to read a philosophical conversation about morality wedged around hatesex.
---
Narvin fic
Someday Narvin was going to strangle one or both of his superiors, loyalty be damned. Unfortunately today was not the day. He walked out of the President's office with his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high.
This is nearly done! I was working on it, then midterms, and aagh. But the plot's finished, which is the hard part. Leela and Torvald and Narvin and K-9 versus an alien spy ring, plus bonus discussion of what constitutes xenophobic behavior, and what constitutes proper security measures.
---
Paen (Five/Ainley!Master)
The kiss, when it happens, doesn't feel like anything. That's a lie. It feels like something twisted inside of him until it broke, and the Doctor's standing in front of him, and he has to choose between kissing him and punching him in the face.
Another Asexual!Master fic. I need to think about it some more, especially since it's pretty depressing.
---
Times Such as These and Other Stories
"Doctor," said Romana, looking up briefly from her papers. "Do stop bleeding all over the carpet."
"Yes, well, sorry, my lady President, but I can't seem to turn off my circulation." The Doctor didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, and Romana gripped her pen a little tighter.
Another set of linked Time War drabbles, this time about the Gallifrey crew. I've got Romana and Brax, but not Leela or Narvin.
---
There was a War
They finally meet at the frontlines, both without their TARDISes. The Doctor is separated from the men he was leading to try and sabotage the Daleks' headquarters. Fighting in the mud and blood from dying men, he stumbles towards the only Time Lord presence he can sense. It just happens to be the Master.
They say nothing, only fight back to back, making their way back to the home lines. Though the Daleks haven't shown themselves, they have found allies in the natives of this planet, and they are just as deadly, if more primitive.
The Doctor tries to just get through without any hurt taken or inflicted. The Master breaks bones and stops hearts.
More timewar fic, this time Doctor/Master
---
Valeyard fic
The Master runs, once Rassilon is dead, runs into a broken Gallifrey he blocked out before his most recent deaths. He runs despite the screams of guards and calls of bystanders, runs until he runs into someone. Someone dressed in black, with a skullcap.
"Shit," says the Master. "They really did bring everyone back."
The Valeyard just drags him into his TARDIS, past the reach of the pursuers.
Valeyard at the End of Time! I don't know, it seemed like a good idea. Never got far with it, though.
---
Timeline (Koschei/Theta)
Childhood
means something odd to most Time Lords. Life begins when you enter academy, more or less- the time before is a dead space, where things happen, but they don't matter very much. Children are cared for, and indulged, a little, but they are most often ignored. Most houses loom their heirs in bulk, trying to minimize the amount of time in which toddlers will be running around the place. Individuality for children is a non-concept - how can you be an individual when you aren't even a person yet?
The boy who will become Koschei lives with his fourteen sibling-cousins, and waits for his life to begin.
A really long exploration of personal canon, with detours into more gender identity issues, suicide, and custody fights. I like it, but it needs editing, and I'm never going to get to it.
---
And another Shalka fic to end with!
The Doctor sulks, and because he's much better at sulking in this regeneration, he does it with wine. And a cheeseboard.
He's hardly had one glass when the Master appears from nowhere, snatching the bottle from his hand.
"What did you do that for, you nuisance?" says the Doctor, not really outraged.
"You told Miss Cheney you would try to keep yourself out of a drunken stupor while she was gone."
"This was," says the Doctor, "what you might call a lie. I thought you at least would be intimately familiar with the term."
This one's unfinished in that I wrote all of the lead up to the sex and then got distracted. I'll figure it out.
---
Oh Jeez, that's a lot. I didn't even put half of the self-indulgent ones on here.
When you see this, post an excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
What I have lying around is pretty evenly divided into stuff I haven't finished, stuff that's finished but I haven't energy/the nerve to post, and stuff that I'm never going to finish, ever, because it's far too self-indulgent.
AI BDSM - an awkward Shalka fic
An artificial blackness settles in on the Master as the Doctor deactivates his eyes. The Master fidgets uncomfortably for a moment to regain his bearings, getting used to the lack of sight. He's naked and spread-eagled on the bed, and he's actually glad of it. It means he can feel the sheets with every inch of his skin, reassure himself that everything's still there even without the ability to visually observe it.
"Neatly done," he says, tilting his head up and around so he can talk to the Doctor instead of mumbling into the bed. "Might I ask why we're doing this?"
This is done, I just have to deal with it a little more - editing and getting over how weird it is.
---
Simm!Master does drugs
The Doctor looked Cannabis up, after he figured out what was going on, and, as far as he can tell, the Master's been high practically every minute of his life. Paranoia, introspection, altered state of consciousness, joviality, increased appreciation of music, and so on and so on. The Master was already watching Teletubbies every day and trying to have long discussions about Europop.
Pretty much what it says on the tin, which is why I haven't gotten back to it.
---
Ten drabbles about sleep
Dark rings around the Master's eyes, and the Doctor can't tell if it's the make-up or sleep deprivation. He'd bet on the second, however. This whole plan just seems like the sort of thing you think is a good idea after one late night too many, and you shout at the world 'I know! I'll stop the Magna Carta!'
Which are finished, except they're not drabbles, and I don't like a couple of them. There's one for each regeneration except Eleven, and they were all written past 1 am. I haven't decided if editing should also take place in the wee hours or not (it sounds like a bad idea, honestly).
---
John Noble and General Glover (Handy/Master)
The Master doesn't look up when John enters his office.
"Doctor John Noble, right? Have a seat, please."
John does so.
"Your resume is good, but I'm afraid your previous boss has raised some questions about, well, your stability. If you can dispel those, I'm sure you'll soon find a place here at the armed forces."
"I'm sure I can do that."
The Master looks confused, and looks up quickly.
"You!"
"Me. Well, sort of."
This is one of the extremely self-indulgent ones. Metacrisis Ten has gender identity issues, relationship issues, and also just plain identity issues. The Master has fallen through the rift and is trying to take over. I had fun with it, but I dunno if anyone else would want to read it - there are about a dozen of these fics online.
---
KoschEight (the best pairing name ever)
Koschei's not that young. It seems like he is, but that's mostly because the Doctor's an old man, well, not old, but he certainly feels old in comparison. Koschei's eighty-four. The Doctor's eight hundred and four (maybe. The number's an estimate, chosen more for its neat symmetry for comparison purposes.) That is, admittedly, a large gap. But Koschei is out of school, in his second regeneration, and well on his way to creating a career that he will pursue for almost fifty years before getting fed up and moving out to conquer the galaxy. He's an adult, with an adult's needs, and desires, and stamina...
The Doctor realizes that he's talking himself into seducing Koschei, and has to go read a book to distract himself.
The books the TARDIS provides (Lolita, Death in Venice, The Reader) are not very good distractions.
I will finish this fic, even if I'm the only one who wants it. Partly it's the pairing name, partly that I was taking a class on German lit and reading Death in Venice and The Reader, but mostly it's just that Eight is so much fun to write.
---
Morals (Five/Ainley!Master)
"You don't feel any moral compunction? None at all?" The Doctor tried to keep his voice steady, but it came out as flat, dead.
"I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?" His tone wavered.
"Because I'm making you upset."
Okay, so I was reading Schopenhauer. This is done, I just don't know if anyone else wants to read a philosophical conversation about morality wedged around hatesex.
---
Narvin fic
Someday Narvin was going to strangle one or both of his superiors, loyalty be damned. Unfortunately today was not the day. He walked out of the President's office with his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high.
This is nearly done! I was working on it, then midterms, and aagh. But the plot's finished, which is the hard part. Leela and Torvald and Narvin and K-9 versus an alien spy ring, plus bonus discussion of what constitutes xenophobic behavior, and what constitutes proper security measures.
---
Paen (Five/Ainley!Master)
The kiss, when it happens, doesn't feel like anything. That's a lie. It feels like something twisted inside of him until it broke, and the Doctor's standing in front of him, and he has to choose between kissing him and punching him in the face.
Another Asexual!Master fic. I need to think about it some more, especially since it's pretty depressing.
---
Times Such as These and Other Stories
"Doctor," said Romana, looking up briefly from her papers. "Do stop bleeding all over the carpet."
"Yes, well, sorry, my lady President, but I can't seem to turn off my circulation." The Doctor didn't bother to keep the sarcasm out of his tone, and Romana gripped her pen a little tighter.
Another set of linked Time War drabbles, this time about the Gallifrey crew. I've got Romana and Brax, but not Leela or Narvin.
---
There was a War
They finally meet at the frontlines, both without their TARDISes. The Doctor is separated from the men he was leading to try and sabotage the Daleks' headquarters. Fighting in the mud and blood from dying men, he stumbles towards the only Time Lord presence he can sense. It just happens to be the Master.
They say nothing, only fight back to back, making their way back to the home lines. Though the Daleks haven't shown themselves, they have found allies in the natives of this planet, and they are just as deadly, if more primitive.
The Doctor tries to just get through without any hurt taken or inflicted. The Master breaks bones and stops hearts.
More timewar fic, this time Doctor/Master
---
Valeyard fic
The Master runs, once Rassilon is dead, runs into a broken Gallifrey he blocked out before his most recent deaths. He runs despite the screams of guards and calls of bystanders, runs until he runs into someone. Someone dressed in black, with a skullcap.
"Shit," says the Master. "They really did bring everyone back."
The Valeyard just drags him into his TARDIS, past the reach of the pursuers.
Valeyard at the End of Time! I don't know, it seemed like a good idea. Never got far with it, though.
---
Timeline (Koschei/Theta)
Childhood
means something odd to most Time Lords. Life begins when you enter academy, more or less- the time before is a dead space, where things happen, but they don't matter very much. Children are cared for, and indulged, a little, but they are most often ignored. Most houses loom their heirs in bulk, trying to minimize the amount of time in which toddlers will be running around the place. Individuality for children is a non-concept - how can you be an individual when you aren't even a person yet?
The boy who will become Koschei lives with his fourteen sibling-cousins, and waits for his life to begin.
A really long exploration of personal canon, with detours into more gender identity issues, suicide, and custody fights. I like it, but it needs editing, and I'm never going to get to it.
---
And another Shalka fic to end with!
The Doctor sulks, and because he's much better at sulking in this regeneration, he does it with wine. And a cheeseboard.
He's hardly had one glass when the Master appears from nowhere, snatching the bottle from his hand.
"What did you do that for, you nuisance?" says the Doctor, not really outraged.
"You told Miss Cheney you would try to keep yourself out of a drunken stupor while she was gone."
"This was," says the Doctor, "what you might call a lie. I thought you at least would be intimately familiar with the term."
This one's unfinished in that I wrote all of the lead up to the sex and then got distracted. I'll figure it out.
---
Oh Jeez, that's a lot. I didn't even put half of the self-indulgent ones on here.
