time lord apologies

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When a live, and especially acoustic, performance is as good as or even better than the studio version, then you know you’re being blessed with real talent. And I’m SHOOK!!!

OKAY ALLOW ME TO GET A COUPLE OF THINGS OUT HERE.

     To whoever originally made this meme: I am truly sorry for the rant I’m about to go on, because I know you meant this to be funny, and it is. But this scene is incredibly important to the character development of, well, pretty much everyone– but especially Jack.
    Right from the beginning, Jack believed in the Doctor. This rogue Time Agent just hooks up with this clearly insane alien and decides that this is the man he’ll follow, come Hell or high water. Jack the renegade, the criminal, the con man, the torture master (see Torchwood season 1, “Countrycide,”) decides that he’s going to owe his loyalty to this total stranger in a blue box– all because the Doctor came back for him when his ship was about to blow rather than let him die. He calls him “sir.” He enforces his wishes. He throws himself into danger for him. Then Station 5 happens, and Jack knows full well that they could all die, and what does he say? “Never doubted him, never will!” And not only does he march willingly into the jaws of his own death, he turns commando and encourages others to die in this man’s name as well. And die he does– brutally, quickly, and with all the attitude of a man who has chosen his own fate.
    He wanted to believe that the Doctor would never have intentionally abandoned him on Station 5. We can see it in his face when the TARDIS disappear. His idol wouldn’t just leave him there to die, or for dead. And when he makes it to Earth, what leads Torchwood straight to him? “Just you wait until I find the Doctor!” “The Doctor will fix me!” He’s as stubborn in his faith as everything else.
     But the Doctor doesn’t come. And doesn’t come. And doesn’t come.
     And every day, as Jack cuts himself shaving and the nicks heal, as he gets into barfight after barfight and comes away unscathed, as bullets go through his skull like noise through an eardrum, his faith gets just a little more battered. And a just a little more bitter. And the days turn into decades. And the decades turn a century. And Jack’s loved ones drop dead, and he remains, and the Doctor still doesn’t come.
     He’s almost given up hope. He’s got his little team. It’s enough, isn’t it? Isn’t it?
     And then he hears the wheez of those blessed engines, and for the first time in a hundred and fifty years, he feels alive.
     He almost misses the TARDIS, but that’s okay, he’ll hold on. He doesn’t realize that the Doctor is running from him as hard as he’s running to him. He doesn’t know that the Doctor saw him coming and intentionally tried to get away. (What the fudge, Doctor?)
      “You abandoned me,” he accuses, facing this man who has to be the Doctor but looks nothing like the man he died for all those years ago. And the Doctor can’t even come up with a decent excuse. “Got busy,” my left butt cheek.
     He doesn’t get a decent answer until he’s up to his eyeballs in radiation, and the Doctor has known all along. He did it all, leaving him and staying away, on purpose. But Jack starts cracking jokes! He should have been so bitter! But he knows now that he’s “wrong,” and maybe he deserves the Doctor’s ire, just like he did back in 1945 during the nanogene incident.
     The Master, the Toclafane, that’s all just part and parcel of running with the Doctor, and he’s okay with it. Mostly. Sort of. You can even see him smile at the Doctor when Martha’s gone (season 3, The Sound of Drums,) as if to say “Good work, getting her safe.” Even though they’re both trapped in the Master’s ship with no visible hope of escape. But the Doctor will figure it out.
     The world is burning. The Master reigns supreme. And it’s true that the Doctor’s basically disabled, so you can’t blame him, not really…except Jack does. Just a bit. Because this is the man who’s outsmarted Daleks and left planets safe thanks to his brilliance, yet there Jack remains, chained in a room with no sunlight and tortured for the amusement of a madman. (Which Time Lord that’s referencing is almost irrelevant at this point.) And it’s not just Jack who’s suffering. Every human being still alive lives in mortal terror, and Martha’s family are slaves. Even Lucy shows signs of abuse. The Doctor’s desire to save the Master is laudable, but at this stage of the game, utterly irrational. At the very least he should have defeated the Master first and then tried to redeem him, leaving the innocents of Earth out of the equation. This is one of the few times we see the Doctor act like the arrogant Time Lords from whom he tried so hard to distance himself, so desperate to hold onto this last piece of his race, planet, culture, that he’s willing to let this atrocity play out for his end game. Leave humanity out of it this time, Doctor. No one else volunteered to risk their lives to save that bloodthirsty maniac.
     Jack’s the first one on the Valiant to join his whispered, bruised, battered faith to the psychic network that will revive the Doctor. In spite of all the pain he’s suffered, not just at the hands of the Master but throughout his inhumanly long life, he throws his faith behind this madman with a box who has simply got to save those people on the planet below. Jack needs those people safe just as much as the Doctor ever did.
     The Doctor told Jack that he was “wrong.” That he was never supposed to exist. That he ran away from him because looking at this man who admires him above all others is just too difficult. But he’s willing to keep the Master on the TARDIS indefinitely, maybe forever.
     What exactly is the point of loving and believing in someone who barely acknowledges that you exist?
     And so we come to this scene. Jack’s not just tired, not just recovering from injuries, not just battling PTSD. He’s disillusioned. He’s lost what little was left of his idealized version of the Doctor, the one he maybe tried to believe didn’t leave him behind on purpose, the one who would SURELY come back for him and tell him he’s done good. The one who would make all his suffering worth it. This Doctor MADE him suffer. This Doctor could have saved them all, but tried to save the Master instead. He’s shown where his priorities truly lie– and Jack isn’t even a factor.
     “Jack Harkness is just a slut,” so proclaim the naysayers. But what kind of person who is “just a slut” could smile at the Doctor the way Jack does as he says good-bye, knowing finally that he’ll never truly have a place at the side of the man he waited a century for, and still manages to forgive him?

Captain Jack Harkness. The Man Who Waited. The Man Who Believed. The Man Who Deserved an Apology. The Man Who Should Have Had Better.

I attempted a little bust of Rhysand. Definitely some things I want to change if I do another, but I can’t stop thinking about these characters again lately so I was itching to try sketching one.

Caliborn is not Lord English.

Rather Lord English is Caliborn, Dirk, Equius, Gamzee, sprite, and the Ring of Void thrown into a Cal blender and served ALREADY HERE…

THAT is why Lord English is terrifying. He isn’t a simple Lord of Time. He’s a Lord of Time, Prince of Mind, Heir of Void, Bard of Rage, game sprite, and a whiny brat all rolled into one large, green, epileptic llama twat.

The One Who Dreamed | Tenth Doctor x Reader

RATING: Teen | GENRE: Fluff | WORD COUNT: 1,668
SUMMARY: You always dreamed of being in space, but not anymore.

It was the same dream as always with you floating in space. It was a beautiful sight with so many different and vibrant colours, surrounded by stars and planets and whatever other wonders the universe had to offer. And all the while, it also felt immensely…cold. No matter how gorgeous the view or astounding the sensations, it always felt cold. Lonely. Lost.

But you tried not to let that distract you. You would wander through space, feeling completely weightless, as you tried to leave behind that unsettling feeling in your chest. You tried to replace it with excitement and awe instead. Dreams should be happy, but it took quite the effort.

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❝ You hear the sound of of me asking for your help. Your skills of treachery are great, but your love of country is greater. You would never have betrayed France in that way. And people like you, people who will protect this country at any cost, those are the people that I need around me now. ❞

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There are very few things on this God-forsaken planet that truly make Edward Nygma happy. A stimulating puzzle, a clever pun, a particularly inventive method of delivering a well-deserved death. But not a single one of these things could ever hold a candle to Oswald’s pale, bloodshot eyes staring into his own.”

The Bird and the Worm Chapter Five: Hysteria

By: @okimi79 and @riddlelvr

leprechauncupcakes  asked:

ohhh "I just really need to have you here right now." with narry?

Truth is, Niall’s never really liked going on those long breaks. 

He knows that the other boys are fed up by the middle of each tour because their ears are always ringing due to all the loud screaming, they complain about missing their families, they’re not fond of the food size portions in America, and how much they rant about wanting nothing more than to return to their relaxing lifestyles in London.

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better with two, brilliant with three (1/3)

ten/rose/tentoo. extraordinarily adult (eventually). ~4k this chapter.
behold, my valentine’s day gift to my readers! triple the lovin’!
and what better way to procrastinate the gut-wrenching angst of anthropomorphic than with some ot3 porn as a reminder that they could have had it all? HAH. i kill myself. anyway, enjoy this introduction to the fluffy filth this will become. the fic is finished, so parts 2 and 3 will come sooner than usual! :)
ao3

Rose kicks a bar of the gate sealing the prison cell with a thunderous metallic clang that echoes through the cave. Sharp throbs of agony immediately flare in her toes, and the the brawny guards headed for the exit burst into wolfish laughter. It had been more an outlet for frustration than an actual attempt to escape, but while the bones in her shin rattle with the shock of the impact, the heavy black steel barely vibrates at all. She feels even more helpless than before, and no less angry.

She’s going to kill them.

Grabbing her foot in both hands, she tries uselessly to soothe the stabbing pain radiating through her it as she limps on her good foot to the cobblestone wall.

“Gonna kick down the door, are you, love?” a raspy voice calls from deeper in the cell.

“Might do,” she bites back in the direction of the sound, hiding her surprise that she isn’t alone.

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