#loombarrow

[made-nondescript]

Trick or treat!

mr cub.........

[purple-nightfall-writes]

Hi! I just wanted to say that I really enjoy your au and your writing! I’ve recommend it to several of my friends because it is some top tier stuff in my opinion!

Can you tell us more about Grian’s glamor works or just about other world building around that you want to share?

thank you!!! i really appreciate that 😊

and sure! it's a pretty soft magic system (in its current version at least) so i don't have a lot of specific rules/details nailed down lol. but generally speaking, grian specializes in magic that pertains to perception and illusion, especially visual perception. he usually sticks to modifying things that already exist, rather than creating an illusion of something that's not there at all. and he typically needs to touch something to affect it with his glamor magic, though the magic stays after he lets go (hence why he can make HotGuy invisible before they leave for an encounter).

there are other types of things that his glamor magic can do, but he's pretty heavily specialized in perception/illusion. he doesn't really use magic in combat that much because he's relatively weak at combat magic; his energy pistol is a functioning piece of tech that doesn't require magic. he's trained a lot to built up the physical agility and sparring skills to be able to fight without needing offensive magic. the psychic disruption glamor is a little outside his area of expertise; he worked pretty hard with some friends to hone it and make sure he could maintain it before he made his debut as CuteGuy.

speaking of which, scar's HotGuy visor does have a psychic disruption effect that's powered by glamor magic, but scar does not know that it's magic. the original design from the Institute days was entirely tech, interfering with facial recognition etc., and scar assumes that's still how it works. but it's magic and has been for years. it's not the exact same magic as grian's - it has pretty much the same effect, functionally, but it gets there differently, if that makes sense. but that's how grian could be seeing hotguy up close for years - close enough to know what color his eyes are - and still not recognize him as scar until he removed the visor.

thanks for the ask! i actually fleshed out some important secret future stuff thinking about this ask hehe

[stitchthesewords]

For the ficlet starters:

Number 5. "What the hell did I just walk into?" For mumscarian?

"What the hell did I just walk into?" Grian asked, tilting his head as he watch Scar and Mumbo try to scramble off each other and get tangled up in their limbs instead.

Scar laughed, though it was without humor and more awkward, as he squirmed out from underneath Mumbo's weight. "It is - not at all what it looks like. Mumbo here burned himself eating redstone and he won't let me do anything about it!" as he talked, Scar's hands went up into the air.

Mumbo pushed himself up with a grunt and looked over to Grian with his own face red. "I'm fine - It's barely a burn," he said, shaking his head.

The ship was just about the only thing moving when Grian fixed them both with a look, trying to decide if they were telling the truth. "Is that the burning I felt earlier? Why were you eating redstone. And - Scar you're supposed to be in bed! On your own ship!" He pointed to both of them with an accusatory finger.

They both spoke over each other, trying to convince Grian of several things all at once. 'Redstone is perfectly fine to eat, you use it in your potions!' was one argument. 'I'm fine, Mumbo got burned, I had to see what was going on!' was the other argument. Grian rubbed his face, pinching his nose between two fingers as they both tried, adamantly, to change his mind.

"What am I supposed to do with the two of you," Grian sighed, coming over to plop onto the bed beside them and stare up at the ceiling. He sighed and shook his head, leaning back to better look at both of their faces. "...Well lay down now. I feel like I need a nap."

[hitheeprithee]

Hi Theo!

#1 What inspired you to write/update this work?

for But one heart?

HI MAR :D

What inspired you to write/update this work?

So the original thinking for But One Heart was "what if post-double life the soulmate bonds didn't let people who were bound from different servers go home", and my thought was that this would be a great way to write some ranchers fic! give them some time in an emergency to bond and talk things out and..........then I thought to myself well what if I wrote other povs of what's happening.....and now we're here alsdkfasd

It's become it's own world and story divorced from being a ship fic which I LOVE but it does mean that I am at a point right now where I have to like. re-plot and reassess a little cuz my initial plans were a little more rancher-centric and now I've got So many threads that need managing. this dang fic went and grew a plot on me

Thank u for the ask fren :>

fic asks!

[theladyjojogrant]

Ok you asked for Narvin/leela prompts from the list and I’m a sucker so

“Let me keep that promise.”

Please and thank you 😊

Thanks so much for the prompt! Sorry it took so long, this one took some thinking and I got really sleepy last night XD 

Unwanted tears sprung to Leela’s eyes when she and Narvin first kissed. 

She wanted to bask in the joy and ecstasy of it, to look into his warm blue eyes, but her mind reminded her of Andred, a small voice told her that everyone left in the end, and a strange mix of terror and melancholy pinched somewhere deep in her chest. 

Narvin’s eyebrows dipped down in concern and he took a step back, fear flooding the expression that had been so serene just a moment ago. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...” His mouth hung open but no more words came out. 

“Narvin...” Leela reached out for him, equally lost for words. She didn’t know how to describe the conflict and fear within her; it would be like baring her very soul. 

But she did. 

For the first time, she truly told someone the full extent of her pain and heartache, as much as she could put them into words. Narvin listened patiently, his eyes never leaving her face. He stood a few feet away from her to begin with, but by the end, his arms were wrapped around her. And only once she was completely finished did he say how sorry he was, how he wished he could do something to fix it. 

“You’ve been holding all this in for so long.” His eyes were soft and full of compassion as he gazed at her. “I know it’s still not easy for you to trust us—to trust me,” he added with a sigh, “but I never want you to have to feel this way.” He frowned, seeming to struggle with words for a moment before he decided on, “I want you to know that I’m here to listen, for however little or however much you want to tell me. Always.” 

His honesty and gentleness made all of Leela’s old worries begin to fade. “I do trust you, Narvin.” And it still surprised her a little that she meant it. 

...

It was only after Leela’s part in the Time War was over that she began to have nightmares. 

They were about alternate lives she’d never lived, the son she’d never borne but had failed anyway, Romana sacrificing herself and being ripped away from her forever, screeching Daleks destroying everything she held dear…

It was inevitable that one night she woke up screaming. It was also inevitable that Narvin appeared in her doorway only seconds later, as he occupied the quarters beside hers. 

Leela quickly wiped away her tears and told Narvin she was fine. For a moment, he looked as if he believed her, but then he slowly walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. 

“Leela,” he said quietly, not quite meeting her eyes. “I promised you a long time ago that I’d be here to listen whenever you needed it. Let me keep that promise.” 

And that night, they held each other and mourned for all that they’d lost.

(Send me a prompt!)

[thebraxiatelcollection]

Salty Asks: 1 and 5 either dw or galli. Pick your poison

So sorry for late reply, I’ve been at comic con  and just got home!

Salty ask meme:

1. What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*

Doctor Who:

Doctor/Yaz or Doctor/Rose/Clara. 

Gallifrey:

I know this is probably a jokey thing but I don’t ship Narvin/Rassilon, because Narvin is clearly terrified of him and states he fears Rassilon in Gallifrey: Time War two. 

5. Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*

I can name so many from Once Upon a Time when I used to be into that show before all the ship war craze happened but as in relation to Doctor Who...Mostly Doctor/Rose. 

[irving-braxiatel]

For your AU prompts: Roll reversal AU with Romana/Brax ofc

I thought a lot about this AU and then realised I had way too much to fit into one fic. It took a while to narrow down where to place it in the timeline, and ended up settling on some post Time War angst

——-

Gallifrey had fallen five days ago. 

After this fact, the Time War had ended, now four days ago.

Romana’s TARDIS had landed on the green outside the mansion house of Braxiatel’s panetoid three days ago. 

It had been a busy week for the universe. For Romana, too. She had learned within minutes of her arrival that the planetoid’s owner had crashed his ship here two nights prior, as close to death as any being could be while still hoping to survive. 

Biology had never been her strongest subject, medicine even less so, but there was no one else left to advice the medics on how to save him. 

After a day he had woken up, but has made very little sense in his few waking moments. He was wounded, in such a way that regeneration was impossible, and feverish. 

Now another two days had passed and finally he was both awake and lucid. She has not been with him, far too busy repairing her TARDIS, but when she has heard naturally she had gone to see him. 

Braxiatel was sitting up in bed, sunlight and bird song and streaming in through an open window. 

“Ah, Good, you’re back. Look, if I must be confined in this bed, at least close that window, or I might have to get up and strangle that bird myself-” he finally realised that his guest was not who he had expected. “Romana,” he breathed, like he had just seen a ghost. 

“Braxiatel,” she greeted, moving a chair closer to his bed so she could sit next to him.

“Gallifrey is gone,” he said, without any grandeur. 

Romana nodded. “I know. I felt it.”

“You already knew it would happen,” he said matter-of-factly. “That was why you left, all those decades ago.”

“I didn’t know it would end like this,” she said, sighing deeply. 

He nodded, understanding. 

Romana had not given up on Gallifrey, only her people. She had left in the night, when it had become clear to her Gallifrey had become too corrupt for her to even start to make a difference. She had often thought Time Lords lived much too long, it was so easy to become jaded and cynical. 

“You knew too.” It was an accusation, perhaps, but not one with any ill feelings attached. 

He avoided her gaze. “I suspected. But if I had been certain I would have left sooner.”

“No word from future Braxiatel?” 

Now, he smiled. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about.”

“One would almost think your tutor at the academy had told you about the dangers of interacting with your own past or future selves.” 

“Oh I am certain she did,” he said. “She was rather brilliant.”

“Was?”

“Is,” he said, fondly. 

“That’s better.” 

This was nice. This worked. If they did not talk about what happened, they did not have to acknowledge the aching hollow in their minds Gallifrey’s collective presence had occupied until earlier this week. 

“I might have been a little enamoured by you, back in those days,” he admitted. 

Romana laughed. “I noticed.”

“I was trying to be subtle,” he protested.

“Trying being the operative word in that sentence.” 

“It was hard not to be. The youngest tutor in the history of the Prydonian Academy, only two decades older than I was, and yet you were the most brilliant person in all of the capital.”

Romana rolled her eyes. “Hardly.”

“To me you were.” 

Their eyes met and then, simultaneously they started laughing. Not because what she had said had been particularly funny, not because of their situation, but because here, after the dust of the war had settled, it was either that or crying, and neither of them was the type for that. 

Braxiatel studied Romana’s face carefully. If she had regenerated since he last saw her, it did not show. “Will you be staying for long, my lady?” he asked. 

“You sound very hopeful,” she commented. “And yes, I’m rather afraid I will have to. My TARDIS was very nearly pulled back to Gallifrey at the end. It took everything both of us had to escape. She needs time to recover.” 

“And you?” 

She raised and eyebrow. “I’m not the one on bed rest.” 

Braxiatel sighed, almost melodramatically. “I suppose you aren’t. Still, I will of course endeavour to ensure you enjoy your stay here at the Braxiatel Collection.” 

“You don’t have to,” she told him. “I will be on my way soon enough.” 

“Romana-” he said, he himself even surprised at the earnesty in his voice. “-I want you to stay. If you would like. I have missed you, over the last 200 years.” 

Romana took a deep breath, closed her eyes, as she suddenly found herself feeling very restless. 

“Braxiatel?” she asked. “What about now?” 

He frowned. “I’m sorry, my lady? I don’t follow where you are going.” 

“You said that when you were younger you were enamoured with me. What about now?” 

His next intake of breath was sharp, and she could see a tenseness in his jaw. 

“Only,” she said. “I missed you too, Braxiatel.” She put her hands on top of one of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“You did?” There wasn’t hope in his voice, because he no longer needed hope. He had known Romana for so long, and in all that time, feelings had always been a topic she tried her best to avoid. So to him, she could not have more plainly stated her affections for him. She was right here with him, and she wanted him. 

They both leaned forward, only stopping one they could feel one another’s breath on their lips. 

“Well?” she asked. 

“You are as brilliant as ever. And just as beautiful. I have never met a being as intelligent, as fascinating, as enchanting as you, my lady.” 

He felt her breath on his skin as she chuckled. “Flatterer,” she said, and leaned closer. 

The kiss was short and sweet, but this was such a long time coming neither of them wanted to rush into it. 

“I think I wouldn’t mind terribly staying a little while,” Romana said, smiling, her eyes not leaving his.

——-

Send me one+ AUs from this list and some characters (taking any combination but I am in a Romana/Braxiatel mood so prompts about those to I am far likely to be inspired by) and I will write some fic

[gawayne]

For those soft sentence starters: “You’ll always be safe with me.” (But maybe it’s narvin saying that to leela?). Thanks!

Whelp I actually got a good deal done on this so I stuck it up on Ao3 too. Hope you enjoy! 

---------------

Despite all claims to the contrary, Narvin really must admit to himself that exploring this alternate world has proved rather lackluster without Romana. It isn’t, of course, that he wants her natural tendency to attract every ounce of trouble present in a fifty mile radius lurking at his back the whole time. In fact, this trip has been relatively smooth compared to their others, and he is relishing what so far has come pretty close to his idea of a vacation. But he can’t deny that with the danger of taking her along often comes interest, and opportunity, and he’s grown tired of wandering around a useless Gallifrey full of useless beings in the most miserable weather he’s seen in this lifetime. 

On the other hand, camping out in a one person CIA-issue tent while the portal makes its way back is much less hazardous with two than three. Narvin doesn’t think it’s a terrible loss. 

A low rumble of thunder rolls in from somewhere altogether too close for his liking. Lying wide-awake on a thin bedroll, he feels the ground tremble beneath him, and officially gives up all hope of getting any sleep. The corresponding flash of lightning illuminates Leela beside him, wrapped snugly in a blanket, curled up fast asleep with her back pressed against the wall of the tent. It’s times like this that he almost—almost—envies her comfort out in the elements, her ability to adapt to any world the portals throw at her. He might even be willing to tell her so, in the name of armistice, except for the fact that Romana has apparently been much more effective at curbing her enthusiasm than he’s ever given her credit for, and lacking such a deterrent she’s been slagging him off at every opportunity all day. 

He doesn’t know what he expected. 

Lightning strikes again, so close now that the sound and light arrive almost simultaneously. Narvin flinches at the deafening crack of thunder, and starts again a nanospan later when Leela jumps into a sitting position, knife in hand, looking around wildly for the source of the noise. Momentarily certain he’s about to have his throat slit, he scrambles as far away from her as he can (about two inches) and raises a handful of blanket between them. 

“Pandak’s ghost, put that thing away!” he shouts, over the pattering of rain on the tent.

“Romana?” Leela’s sightless gaze fixes on him, then snaps back up to the sky. “Are we under attack?”

“It’s me,” he hisses. He softens his tone. “There’s nothing wrong, it’s just thunder. Put that away before you hurt someone.”

Adrenaline draining visibly from her body, Leela sags back onto her bedroll. After a moment’s consideration she tucks the knife back under her pillow, and huffs out a sigh. 

“Don’t know how you managed to get to sleep at all,” mutters Narvin, his hearts still working at resuming their normal pace. “Tired from a long day of insulting me, are you?”

To his surprise, Leela doesn’t offer a witty comeback. Wide-eyed, she looks up as a fresh bout of lightning crackles overhead, and tugs her blanket back up around her shoulders. 

“I did not mean to frighten you,” she says quietly. 

Narvin blinks. “You didn’t- oh, whatever. Can’t you try just a bit harder to not stab me in the future?”

“That is unlikely,” she says, though her heart clearly isn’t in it. Her brow is creased in an expression of concentration; she worries her lip between her teeth. He watches as her head twitches towards each sudden sound, tracking their source instinctually as she would any threat, and he watches the lightning periodically throw her features into sharp relief, tension evident in the way she holds herself under the blanket. She’s afraid, he realizes, with a certain degree of alarm. Suddenly he very much wishes he wasn’t the only other person here. 

Attributable no doubt to a moment of weakness brought on by his tired, cold, somewhat damp state, Narvin moves back onto his bedroll and then a bit further. “Leela?” he asks cautiously. “Are you… alright?”

This alone seems enough to break Leela’s concentration. She tilts her head, so that she would be looking right at him. Not for the first time, her sense of direction unnerves him. 

“I am fine,” she replies, in a particular tone that suggests she would like to be fine, and is perhaps adjacent to fine, but hasn’t quite gotten there yet. 

“It, er… it shouldn’t be much longer,” he offers. “If K9’s done everything correctly the portal will be back in a couple spans.”

“Not long to you,” she counters. 

“Well… yes.”

There’s a long pause.

“I want Romana,” she murmurs. “She should be here.”

“Yes,” he says. He hesitates. “Leela…”

“I am scared, Narvin,” she says shakily, and that shuts him up. “I should not be scared. It is only a storm. It is not more dangerous just because I cannot see it, but it… it is loud, and so dark, and Romana should be here. She would…”

She trails off, and doesn’t continue. Narvin would like to think it’s completely unrelated to the fact that he’s reached out and taken her trembling hand in his, but that would be a stretch even for him.

“Romana makes you feel safe,” he says quietly. At this volume, the rain nearly drowns out both of them. 

Leela nods. “I trust her,” she murmurs. 

The subtext makes something tighten painfully in his chest—she doesn’t trust him, not enough—even though he knows this, and knows she shouldn’t. He’s hardly done anything to deserve it. Lately, however, trapped away from his home and life and people, Gallifrey’s fate left to the three of them, he’s found himself afflicted by the horrid desire for camaraderie. Friendship, even. And it’s surely nothing more than the shock of losing just about everything he’s ever known—but then again he’s lost just about everything he’s ever known, and now they’ve lost Brax, too, and he aches to be trusted by the two people he has left. To have it known, absolutely and irreparably, that he would do anything for them. 

He shuts his eyes, so it feels just a bit more like he’s talking into the empty night. “You’re safe, Leela,” he says. “You’ll always be safe with me.”

The pause is much longer this time. Narvin tries to forget he said anything, and that Leela ever even woke up, and that he’s actually awake at all, though it doesn’t work very well. When eventually he runs out of patience and opens one eye, he’s more than a little surprised to see her smiling. 

“It is very cold in here, Narvin,” she says. 

He blinks, wondering if she wants him to offer her his blanket. He gets his answer when she, always one to take initiative, wriggles over to his side of the tent and works her way under the blanket with him, tossing an arm over his waist in the process. 

“Oh,” says Narvin, recoiling at first but putting an arm around her in return before he quite knows what’s happening. “Oh, er…”

Leela tugs him closer, tucking her head beneath his chin and making herself at home. “Hush,” she says. “I am trying to sleep.”

It’s only later—an embarrassingly long, distracted time later—that he realizes he couldn’t possibly be a source of warmth for her. It’s not a terrible loss.