@eccentricgenius

“I don’t need your help,” Q hissed, pulling back, trying to put space between the two of them. “It’s your fault this happened in the first place.”

Rolling his eyes, Jim took off his suit and rolled the sleeves of his shirt “Thank you mister ob-vi-ous, does saying that make you feel any better?” and kept walking towards the other,  a playful look in his face and his eyes were sparkling with amusement. 

“Didn’t our lady friend teach you it’s not nice to hiss at people,” and then an idea caused Jim’s eyebrows to take a hike up his forehead “Or do you prefer the other one?” 

Continued from https://eccentricgenius.tumblr.com/post/643213501397106688/guard-for-your-muse-to-step-between-my-muse

"Absolutely not." Ian's protective instinct had not abated, and the shove just made him stand his ground all the more. After all, there was what looked to be a cross between a humanoid llama coming at them and the noises it was making suggested it was not happy. That and all the people it had head-butted. Not that Ian particularly wanted to be head-butted, but it was better that it was him and not someone else, when there wasn't the space to run away.

continued from here

@eccentricgenius

“You are,” Aziraphale insisted, giving the demon sitting beside him a stern look. “I know you don’t like to hear it but my dear, you are.”

“No I’m not,” Crowley argue shaking their head.  “Just because I do a few favors for you now and again doesn’t mean I’m nice.  It just means I like to... I don’t know spoil you.  Maybe I hope that one day you’ll give in to temptation and fall as well.”  Lies, absolute lies.  The last thing the demon ever wanted was for Aziraphale to end up like them.  It would break their heart if the angel ever fell, they never wanted the blonde to experience anything like the pain and loss of falling.

“I don’t like to hear it because I don’t like lies being told about me.  I’m a demon.  I’m not nice.  I inherently do wicked things.  I’m no more capable of doing the right thing than you are of doing the bad.  Not to mention how much trouble I’d get in if someone were to hear I was nice.  It would undo every single ounce of my reputation.”  In truth Crowley wouldn’t consider themself a nice person at least not as far as to say they were nice to everyone, Aziraphale was the one exception.  They went out of their way to be nice to the angel.  ...Alright maybe there was a small exception for children as well but that’s it: their angel and children.  “Don’t convince yourself I’m nice.  It’s a mistake and you’ll just be disappointed when I show my true nature.”

💤🌳 from 13

Send “💤🌳” to find my muse sleeping under a tree.  For @eccentricgenius‘s 13 Muse

The Doctor had been sleeping under a tree after a rather strenuous adventure.  He could feel someone poking him and he woke up to see the blonde woman in front of him.  “Is there something I can help you with?” he asked the strange woman, “Do I know you?”

@eccentricgenius​ (x)

“What?” the Doctor exclaimed, far too loudly and fakely for anyone to ever buy she was clueless. “That’s absurd. Besides, I wouldn’t call it stalking. It’s, em, dedicated observing, that’s what it is!”

          “Yeah, that’s what they all say.”  Oswin rolled her eyes but the smile assured her stalker it was in good nature. “Were you planning on introducing yourself or am I just going to find you in my garage later?”

@eccentricgenius​

Will scrunched his nose in distaste at the idea of that. “I’d rather not get in a car with some stranger, if it’s all the same to you. I’ll be fine...just need...eight glasses of water,” he muttered, looking vaguely around the bar.

How he’d ended up with Frederick Chilton of all people here at this not so upstanding bar was a bit of a blur to him. But then, most of this past week had been a blur.

“Just eight,” Frederick said, amusement laced through his words. Having not been around anyone that couldn’t control their alcohol since his undergraduate days, the good doctor found entertainment in Will’s exactness. “I take it you know this from experience then?”

Frederick waved the bartender over and ordered Will a glass of water before asking for the tab. Just this once would he pay for someone’s vice given that he doubted the FBI paid more than pennies on the dollar. “Perhaps coffee would do you good too?”

@eccentricgenius​ cont from here:

“Of course!” the Doctor replied with mock offense. “Can’t have you starving on the job. Now, wine?” she added, holding up the bottle to her nose and then scrunching it up. Alcohol, bleh. She always forgot how much she couldn’t stand the stuff.

Her hand brushes the Doctor’s as she reaches out for the bottle, a gentle caress that could seem an accident if it weren’t for the sparkling, loving eyes River had locked on her wife. “I’ll take care of that, sweetie,” she laughed. “No need for you to drink it if you can’t enjoy the effort put into it.”

eccentricgenius asked: 🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?🛌my muse’s biggest nightmare

character flaws meme: ACCEPTING

II @eccentricgenius​

🚫what is one thing my muse wouldn’t want someone else to know about them?:

”Erm... I suppose I don’t like many people knowin’ ‘bout how explosive my temper can be, if absolutely provoked; nor do I want people witnessin’ tha’. It’s somethin’ I got from my Da’ and I’m not proud of it.” 🛌my muse’s biggest nightmare:

“My biggest nigh’mare? Och, tha’s honestly tough, mainly ‘cause there are a few things I’m scared of. I mean, death, is the obvious one. Heights is another worst fear of mine...Drownin’ and darkness are two other fears.--However, if we’re talkin’ ‘bout actual nigh’mares I had, there’s one I had when I first a wee boy and continues to haunt me to this day. It’s silly, really, but the nigh’mare is of me bein’ completely invisible; and mind ye’, I don’t mean in a cool, superhero sorta way. Nah. In this nigh’mare I’m practically non-existent. A scream, wave my arms, and cry out for help and absolutely nobody hears me until I’m eventually left alone in complete and utter darkness... It still gives me shivers just talkin’ ‘bout it.”

“You’re covered in blood! Is it yours?” from Q for Sebastian

He is quite aware of it, unfortunately. He’s reached the point where most of the blood on him is starting to turn from tacky to almost dry. It’ll start to itch and flake and fall off soon enough, and then he’ll really have to do some clean up. “Some of it.” It feels like a cliché, but it’s true. Some of it is his, and a lot of it belongs to a man who is very much no longer alive. Sebastian cleaned his face earlier, at least, though there’s plenty of it staining his neck. The important thing is making sure that he was good to operate for the rest of however long was necessary, and a bloody face would run a lot of risks. He feels fine, though. Relatively. 

“I’ve got a few cuts -” typical of someone surprised to meet someone else who’d armed themselves with a knife - “but nothing you’d need to worry about. I won’t go about dripping on the carpet or anything.” Some of it’s posturing - they probably do need to get cleaned up a little, just in case of the unlikely event that there was something on the blade - plus he’s been told before thath proper wound care is essential or something like that. Seb knows what he can handle, though. 

“I’m not usually one for stabbings - I’d forgotten just how much a man can bleed.” A lot of that is false. While it’s true that Sebastian highly preferred guns when he had the choice, it wasn’t like he knew nothing about knife fighting at all. And obviously, he knew quite well just how much people bled. That was obvious even from afar. Just more annoying when he had to deal with it. “Is this a polite way of telling me to go change?”

@eccentricgenius - Reunion

Susan could have left Earth many many years ago, yes. It would have made sense. She’d travelled through time and space plenty of times before and certainly had the means to get her hands on or make some kind of travelling device. She wasn’t quite able enough to grow her own TARDIS but whatever she had used would have worked. Having no family left on Earth, leaving would have been the smartest decision and yet, here she was. Stuck in Cardiff, looking out at the dreary Welsh weather. She’d travelled the Earth with her now deceased husband and son, seen so many beautiful sights but she couldn’t quite pull away the urge to return to the UK. This was where The Doctor had left her. If her grandparent ever decided to return for her, this would be where they would start looking. She was sure they would look for her. It was common knowledge, especially to the Doctor who was known to frequently visit the planet, that humans had short lifespans. Surely they would understand that sooner or later she would run out of time with the people on Earth that she loved. Other companions, which had also been left behind, who Susan had managed to meet had all told her not to get her hopes up. They would say that the Doctor left and the Doctor never came back. Susan couldn’t believe that. The Doctor would leave her. 

The easiest way to find the doctor would be to run into every dangerous and potentially alien event which presented itself. Those kinds of events seemed to happen a lot around Cardiff so of course that was where she would set up home. On this particular rainy day, Susan had picked up on a distress signal using her fairly low tech detector. It was clearly from an alien ship although the limited technology didn’t allow her to identify what kind. Heck, it didn’t even allow her to identify whether it was really a distress signal. She was mostly just presuming and hoping it wasn’t a call to arms. She through on her coat and boots before leaving the house and following the signal. Perhaps it was some Sonatran ship which had been thrown off course and burned up in the Earths atmosphere. She knew there had been some of their ships floating around Earths area recently. What she didn’t expect to see when she rounded a back alley was something so familiar. 

There it was. The familiar blue box, although the particular shade had changed slightly in the years since she'd been left. A warm feeling filled her chest. It was the feeling of home and belonging... although hat feeling dwindled slightly when she noticed the smoke billowing from the doors. The set swung open, letting out even more smoke and a woman stumbled out onto the pavement. They had a different face but the familiar mental connection between timelords went off in her mind and Susan knew she was right. Even if there hadn’t been that innate mental connection, the dress sense would have given it away. This was her grandparent. This was the Doctor.

@eccentricgenius cont x

Q looked up as best he could at the stranger who stood above him. He coughed weakly, staring up. Had he come to finish the job? Or was he just as passer by? Or was he even real? “H-help,” he whispered, pride be damned. He was losing blood at an alarming rate and if something didn’t stop it soon, he was sure how much longer he had.

His nostrils flare with frustration. Jim didn’t like witnesses and especially not random silly little people getting in the crossfire of his goings on. He went over to check the man, looking to make sure that there was no one else around. 

“Hm.” he said simply, looking down at  the young man. Something all the complicate and complex neuronal connections in his brain told him something. People called it instinct or intuition but Jim was not so inclined. 

At his signal, several of his men rushed over and gave the wounded man first assistance to stop the bleeding before being transferred to Jim’s special hospital unit.

After the operation, Jim sat quietly by the side of the stranger’s bed for hours, day by day, just him and his laptop, lost in lines of code and standing watch over the wounded man bot to see when he would wake up and make sure that no one would visit him without Jim’s presence. 

Anathema grew up hearing the name, reading the name, Agnes Nutter. often ringing in her ears within the Device household -- she could go on for hours discussing the little facts about Agnes’ life, and the impact of her words that rippled through her family generationally. Though, she’ll tend to lose that sense of interest once the fact that most of her prophecies don’t really make sense, or seem to apply to anything come to light. Nobody wants to hear  ‘ Open thine eyes and rede, I do say, foolish principalitee, for thy cocoa doth grow cold. ’  when it most certainly does not apply to them, or seem to make any sort of sense. Still, the concept of an entirely correct prophetic work was practically unheard of.

“ You see, Agnes was the worst prophet that's ever existed. Because she was always right. That's why the book never sold. ”

@eccentricgenius​ for aziraphale !

nsfw prompts that don’t sound like a bad porno || accepting

“i could’t stop thinking about you all day.” (From Aziraphale to Crowley)

@eccentricgenius​​

Crowley entered the bookshop balancing a box full of pastries in one hand.  “Angel, you in here somewhere? I came to tempt you with some pastries,” they called out shutting the door behind them and walking to the back section of the shop.  Not having anything better to do, and missing their angelic counterpart not that they’d admit that to anyone themself included, they had decided to pop in for a visit.  The pastries just gave them an extra excuse if the angel asked.  

Said box of pastries fell out of the serpent’s hands at Aziraphale’s words.  Their corporation’s heart started beating faster and their palms were sweating.  Thank Go- Satan er somebody for their sunglasses at least with them no one could see how their pupils had dilated at those words.  He didn’t mean it like that.  He’s probably just glad to see you, especially since you brought food. They scolded themself reminding their heart not to rule their head.  There was no way Aziraphale could mean it like that, especially not directed toward them.

“I should show up by surprise with pastries more often if that’s how you react,” they said smirking.  Perhaps if they acted like nothing odd had happened, like they hadn’t momentarily lost their composure the angel would say nothing.

@eccentricgenius​ sent: “what am i supposed to do when i can’t even trust my own mind?”  (From Will)

Hannibal crossed one long leg over the other and folded his hands in his lap, looking at the younger man sitting across from him. He could smell the distinct odor of the fever, a sweetness mixed in it, that had initially indicated to him that the other was suffering from an illness -- encephalitis, if he had to guess. The symptoms aligned. It was fascinating, to watch it burn through the mind of Will Graham. Will’s mind was already lush and well populated by imagination without the addition of the fever. With the fever... well, Hannibal could not help his curiosity.

“You can turn to me, Will. I am here, beside you,” he offered in a low tone, rumbled in his chest, “to be your guide when you have lost your way. Do you trust me, Will?”

@eccentricgenius​​ liked

SHE HADN’T BELIEVED Me when she told her. The Doctor in town? Clara skulked around, keeping a watchful eye on every woman with a long coat. She was concerned she wouldn’t recognise her - after all, she only knew how Me had described her, she hadn’t stuck around for photo reference - but when she saw the bright rainbow stripes and the general doesn’t-look-like-they-belong-here-but-they-certainly-feel-at-home vibe, she knew who to follow.                   Clara wondered if the Doctor would recognise her? Her memories were erased but Clara had left a big hint behind on the TARDIS. A painting of her face was surely an explicit tribute? But, who knew how long it had been; probably not even the Doctor. She may have understood the woman in the diner was Clara but there’s no reason to believe she remembers that now.                      She hesitated but ultimately decided it couldn’t hurt to say hello.                                                                          “----------- Nice shirt.” Yeah, that’ll do.

❝  let me help with that.  ❞ for Jenny from 13

CARING SENTENCE STARTERS

“Thank you ma’am.” She’s been trying to tie this case to the wagon for half an hour. It’s not that it’s heavy, she’s strong enough. But it happened to be just big enough that once she tied one side, the other went loose and no one else had been around to help. Until this woman stepped up.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Jenny looks up and finds a blonde woman wearing not only trousers - scandalous in this time, but a long coat and colors that aren’t very common. “Do I know you?”