The Pit of doom

18, Poland

Bit of a hermit...
I swap stories about Muse, Doctor Who, Sherlock, Supernatural and other timey-wimey multifandom stuff.

It's good fun. For a hermit...

PS- I write a lot in circular gallifreyan, so if you want something, just ask.



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cleowho:

•      •     •     •     •

The Pandorica and the Siege-Mode TARDIS

The similarities in appearance between The Pandorica and the TARDIS in siege-mode are undeniable, but the connection goes a little deeper; both structures are designed to be impenetrable from without and inescapable from within.

Is it possible that The Pandorica was of Gallifreyan construction, or at least built using Gallifreyan knowledge and stolen Time Lord technology?

I’ve previously speculated in this post that the renegade Time Lord known as The Monk was directly involved in the Pardorica Initiative because he was responsible for the building of Stonehenge, and we discovered in The Pandorica Opens that Stonehenge was just a bloomin’ great 'X marks the spot' for the Pandorica.

Was the Monk an agent for the Alliance? Was the Pandorica built by the Monk, based on siege-mode TARDIS principals?

Wibbly-wobbly…

Of course, the similarities might just be the result of co-incidence and unimaginative writing in which case… meh!

And, just a passing thought: My concept for a siege-mode TARDIS would be sort of egg-shaped, or perhaps resemble a turtle shell; I think either geometry would be far sturdier, more defensive (and more visually interesting on screen) than a cube.

- Cleo.

•      •     •     •     •

47 minutes ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 263 notes

hannahmariehiddles:

My god but I find him so perfect here.
Just look at his cape and his legs.

This gif is perfection!!!

48 minutes ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 3,615 notes
therealbarryallen:

macabrekawaii:

dualscar:

captainexposition:

shermansgallifreyan:

oxboxer:

feferipixies:

the-fandoms-are-cool:

everythingis19:

cosmicsyzygy:

Look, I made a gif of this most awesome wizard at the Leaky Cauldron!

DUDE IS READING ‘A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME’ BY STEPHEN HAWKING
I NEVER REALIZED

are you serious
I always assumed wizards just ignored science, because the fact that “magic” exists, can explain anything. But there are MuggleBorn wizards, ones who, until they were eleven, lived in the real world and learned science and things. Did they all just abandon that normal, muggle knowledge, like Harry did? It’s always been there, itching in the back of my mind.
FOUR FOR YOU SCIENCE WIZARD
YOU GO SCIENCE WIZARD

can we point out that he’s doing wandless magic too
like voldemort couldnt even do that shit
molly fuckin weasley couldnt fuckin do that
who are you

Quick, somebody write a book series about the adventures of Magic Prodigy Science Wizard!!!
PLEASE SOMEONE JUST DO IT

Alan Baker had no use for wands, of course. If one were to Prior Incantato his outdated, duct-taped rod of walnut wood and dragon heartstring, its most recent use would have been the enchantment of the long-lived neurons in Alan’s own mind. This enchantment, possible only for those who were capable of seeing themselves as a complex amalgamation of neural impulses, allowed him to bypass both wands and words. Alan did this, not for show, not for power, but because wandwork distracted him from his reading.
Unfortunately, there was no legal spell to get rid of barflies.
“Hey- hey mate, you gotta- gotta minute to-“
Sobrius, Alan thought, placing one hand on his neighbor’s forehead without looking up. He pondered whether or not to cast a silencing barrier, even in violation of the Leaky Cauldron’s safety code.
“Thanks,” said the now-sober man, “Readin’ more of that Muggle trash, I see.”
Alan closed his eyes and counted to three, but when he opened them, the man was still there. Alan lowered his “muggle trash” in defeat, meeting the baggy, bloodshot eyes of the wizard sitting across from him.
Alan leaned forward, placing his hands steeple-like on the table. “Mr. Fletcher, do you know why time turners don’t send you into space?”
“The sky, y’mean? Cause they’re fer time turnin’, not apparation.”
Alan had to take a deep breath. “No,” he replied, “If time turners weren’t anchored to anything, the Earth’s rotation alone would be enough to ensure a time traveler’s demise. But someone at the ministry was clever enough to anchor them to a carefully guarded object that never moves relative to the Earth.”
“Fascinat’n,” slurred Mundungus, whose eyes had glazed over once it became clear that Alan didn’t actually have a time turner on him.
“But time turners are still very limited,” continued Alan, more to himself than to Mundungus, “They can’t go more than seven hours back, and not forward at all, and only in increments of one hour, and they only work on Earth… no, they’re very clumsy, if one truly pauses to think about it.”
“What’s yer point?”
“My point is that while wizards are slowly stagnating in their backwards remnant of the Dark Ages, Muggles are making progress, ever reaching for the light. Do you know that they don’t need magic to craft a hand of living silver?”
“Bah,” was Mundungus’s only reply, “You’d be best mates with that Weasley nutcase at the ministry, you would.”
Alan stood up, silently casting an infantes gelata to check for paradoxes. “I don’t know why I bother with you,” he sighed, “you’ve just wasted another two minutes of my time. Perhaps I bother because I have time to waste.”
And he twisted, as if to apparate, but instead faded out of existence with a distinct vworp. The air swirled in the wake of his departure, blowing back Mundungus’s straggly ginger hair.
“Muggleborns,” the short wizard muttered, then turned back to his drink.
••••••••
Thirty minutes earlier, Alan lounged contentedly within his quieting barrier, stirring his cup of tea absently and rereading one of his favourite Muggle books. He wondered, vaguely, which planet held the nearest sapient life, and what their magic would look like…

This rereading, however, would be slightly shorter than the last. Even within the barrier, the presence of another at the table tickled at Alan’s consciousness. He set down his book (rather forcefully, he had to admit,) and looked up. The bloodshot eyes of Mundungus Fletcher didn’t meet him when his own rose.
“Hello,” mouthed the man. Finite Incantatum, thought Alan.
“Hello,” he answered, “Can I help you?”
“No, not really. Well, maybe. Well, probably. Have you seen anything strange lately? Disappearing cats, people moving backwards, variances in the time vortex causing precise and intentional reversal of the course of events?”
Alan couldn’t help but stare. “Er…now that you mention it, I was just…” he trailed off as he glanced out the window and did a double take. There was a 1960s-style Muggle police telephone box in the middle of Diagon Alley. “…Is…is that a telephone box?”
“No. Yes. Recreation. Mock-up. Don’t worry, nobody will notice,” the man said, waving his hand dismissively even as he pulled on a pair of what appeared to be cheap 3-D glasses. “What I want to know,” he murmured conspiratorially, “is what’s giving you that floaty, aurary, bizarrey stuff all over you, because that should not be happening to a human. Person. I said person”
Alan’s eyebrows furrowed. “First of all, this is Diagon Alley. Most people out there wouldn’t know a police box from a pillbox, especially given it’s bright blue. Second of all, those glasses shouldn’t give you the ability to see what you’re seeing. And thirdly, Expelliarmus.”
“Expelliwhat?” the man squawked, just as a long, chunky metallic object with a blue tip shot out of his jacket pocket and into Alan’s hand. A quick Identification spell told him all he needed to know.
“Fuzzy logic neural interface configured for ease of use, limited nonverbal manipulation of mechanical and electronic objects…Interesting. And leaps and bounds beyond anything wizards or Muggles can conjure up. What are you?”
The man stared at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a wide smile. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. Let me tell you a little bit about the universe…”

IT GOT BETTER

I am done, this is the end of the world, it’s all downhill from here


SOMEONE THROW IN SHERLOCK AND THE WINCHESTERS PLEASE

therealbarryallen:

macabrekawaii:

dualscar:

captainexposition:

shermansgallifreyan:

oxboxer:

feferipixies:

the-fandoms-are-cool:

everythingis19:

cosmicsyzygy:

Look, I made a gif of this most awesome wizard at the Leaky Cauldron!

DUDE IS READING ‘A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME’ BY STEPHEN HAWKING

I NEVER REALIZED

are you serious

I always assumed wizards just ignored science, because the fact that “magic” exists, can explain anything. But there are MuggleBorn wizards, ones who, until they were eleven, lived in the real world and learned science and things. Did they all just abandon that normal, muggle knowledge, like Harry did? It’s always been there, itching in the back of my mind.

FOUR FOR YOU SCIENCE WIZARD

YOU GO SCIENCE WIZARD

can we point out that he’s doing wandless magic too

like voldemort couldnt even do that shit

molly fuckin weasley couldnt fuckin do that

who are you

Quick, somebody write a book series about the adventures of Magic Prodigy Science Wizard!!!

PLEASE SOMEONE JUST DO IT

Alan Baker had no use for wands, of course. If one were to Prior Incantato his outdated, duct-taped rod of walnut wood and dragon heartstring, its most recent use would have been the enchantment of the long-lived neurons in Alan’s own mind. This enchantment, possible only for those who were capable of seeing themselves as a complex amalgamation of neural impulses, allowed him to bypass both wands and words. Alan did this, not for show, not for power, but because wandwork distracted him from his reading.

Unfortunately, there was no legal spell to get rid of barflies.

“Hey- hey mate, you gotta- gotta minute to-“

Sobrius, Alan thought, placing one hand on his neighbor’s forehead without looking up. He pondered whether or not to cast a silencing barrier, even in violation of the Leaky Cauldron’s safety code.

“Thanks,” said the now-sober man, “Readin’ more of that Muggle trash, I see.”

Alan closed his eyes and counted to three, but when he opened them, the man was still there. Alan lowered his “muggle trash” in defeat, meeting the baggy, bloodshot eyes of the wizard sitting across from him.

Alan leaned forward, placing his hands steeple-like on the table. “Mr. Fletcher, do you know why time turners don’t send you into space?”

“The sky, y’mean? Cause they’re fer time turnin’, not apparation.”

Alan had to take a deep breath. “No,” he replied, “If time turners weren’t anchored to anything, the Earth’s rotation alone would be enough to ensure a time traveler’s demise. But someone at the ministry was clever enough to anchor them to a carefully guarded object that never moves relative to the Earth.”

“Fascinat’n,” slurred Mundungus, whose eyes had glazed over once it became clear that Alan didn’t actually have a time turner on him.

“But time turners are still very limited,” continued Alan, more to himself than to Mundungus, “They can’t go more than seven hours back, and not forward at all, and only in increments of one hour, and they only work on Earth… no, they’re very clumsy, if one truly pauses to think about it.”

“What’s yer point?”

“My point is that while wizards are slowly stagnating in their backwards remnant of the Dark Ages, Muggles are making progress, ever reaching for the light. Do you know that they don’t need magic to craft a hand of living silver?”

“Bah,” was Mundungus’s only reply, “You’d be best mates with that Weasley nutcase at the ministry, you would.”

Alan stood up, silently casting an infantes gelata to check for paradoxes. “I don’t know why I bother with you,” he sighed, “you’ve just wasted another two minutes of my time. Perhaps I bother because I have time to waste.”

And he twisted, as if to apparate, but instead faded out of existence with a distinct vworp. The air swirled in the wake of his departure, blowing back Mundungus’s straggly ginger hair.

“Muggleborns,” the short wizard muttered, then turned back to his drink.

••••••••

Thirty minutes earlier, Alan lounged contentedly within his quieting barrier, stirring his cup of tea absently and rereading one of his favourite Muggle books. He wondered, vaguely, which planet held the nearest sapient life, and what their magic would look like…

This rereading, however, would be slightly shorter than the last. Even within the barrier, the presence of another at the table tickled at Alan’s consciousness. He set down his book (rather forcefully, he had to admit,) and looked up. The bloodshot eyes of Mundungus Fletcher didn’t meet him when his own rose.

“Hello,” mouthed the man. Finite Incantatum, thought Alan.

“Hello,” he answered, “Can I help you?”

“No, not really. Well, maybe. Well, probably. Have you seen anything strange lately? Disappearing cats, people moving backwards, variances in the time vortex causing precise and intentional reversal of the course of events?”

Alan couldn’t help but stare. “Er…now that you mention it, I was just…” he trailed off as he glanced out the window and did a double take. There was a 1960s-style Muggle police telephone box in the middle of Diagon Alley. “…Is…is that a telephone box?”

“No. Yes. Recreation. Mock-up. Don’t worry, nobody will notice,” the man said, waving his hand dismissively even as he pulled on a pair of what appeared to be cheap 3-D glasses. “What I want to know,” he murmured conspiratorially, “is what’s giving you that floaty, aurary, bizarrey stuff all over you, because that should not be happening to a human. Person. I said person”

Alan’s eyebrows furrowed. “First of all, this is Diagon Alley. Most people out there wouldn’t know a police box from a pillbox, especially given it’s bright blue. Second of all, those glasses shouldn’t give you the ability to see what you’re seeing. And thirdly, Expelliarmus.

“Expelliwhat?” the man squawked, just as a long, chunky metallic object with a blue tip shot out of his jacket pocket and into Alan’s hand. A quick Identification spell told him all he needed to know.

“Fuzzy logic neural interface configured for ease of use, limited nonverbal manipulation of mechanical and electronic objects…Interesting. And leaps and bounds beyond anything wizards or Muggles can conjure up. What are you?”

The man stared at him for a few minutes before breaking out in a wide smile. “Hello. I’m the Doctor. Let me tell you a little bit about the universe…”

IT GOT BETTER

I am done, this is the end of the world, it’s all downhill from here

SOMEONE THROW IN SHERLOCK AND THE WINCHESTERS PLEASE

51 minutes ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 489,917 notes
calm-your-cloaca:

babyletyourfantasiesunwind:

yersinia—pestis:

merlinsbearditsthedoctor:

No but I can just imagine a person bursting through the door screaming “I NEED YOUR HELP. IT’S A NINE” and everyone in the shop stops and all collectively goes “Oh shit” and the florists start working frantically while the man/woman just stands there looking scared as fuck while the other customers are trying to figure out what they did. 

that must be bad if it’s a 9 on an alphabetical scale.


IM FUCKGIN CRYING

calm-your-cloaca:

babyletyourfantasiesunwind:

yersinia—pestis:

merlinsbearditsthedoctor:

No but I can just imagine a person bursting through the door screaming “I NEED YOUR HELP. IT’S A NINE” and everyone in the shop stops and all collectively goes “Oh shit” and the florists start working frantically while the man/woman just stands there looking scared as fuck while the other customers are trying to figure out what they did. 

that must be bad if it’s a 9 on an alphabetical scale.

IM FUCKGIN CRYING

8 hours ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 528,624 notes

alecwiens:

I have a bad habit of assuming I’ve annoyed people, and it usually ends up with me dropping communication and hoping they’ll be the ones to continue it.

14 hours ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 528,515 notes

throughwho:

"You said no family. But there must be people who love you. Friends."
"No. Well, yes. But it’s a long story."

The TARDIS Team (23 November, 1963—23 November, 2013)

14 hours ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 37,103 notes

dragoninja103:

jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle:

hermannsparka:

when you see drama going down in a fandom you aren’t in

image

when you see drama going down in your fandom that you aren’t involved inimage

It got better

14 hours ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 57,476 notes

peterrrcapaldi:

when someone casually mentions the thing ur obsessed with

image

14 hours ago on October 22nd, 2014 | J | 11,666 notes
what I say: nice shirt
what I mean: duDE I'M IN THAT FANDOM
19 hours ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 89,666 notes

trickortreatingcas:

lucifer-rising-demon:

castiel-and-meg:

lucifer-who:

shadows-of-a-fallen-angel:

bloody-men-with-blue-eyes:

bripixiemonster:

lurea:

So here’s the thing:  Crowley is clearly demonic.  He was a son of a witch in 18th century Scotland, sold his soul, died, went to hell…Became a demon and then became King of Hell.

But he also had a ‘thing’ with Naomi in Mesopotamia.   Sooooo…couldn’t he be a fallen angel like Anna?  I mean, how did she know what to do?  Someone had to do it first, right?

So, Crowley…  You were an angel.  Became disaffected.  Ripped out your Grace.  Fell.  Was reborn as a human.  Learned magic.  Sold your soul.  Died, went to Hell and became a demon.  

And at some point, recovered all your memories.  Cool. 

I’m just going to leave this here.

WELL THAT EXPLAINS WHY MARK SAID THAT MAYBE CROWLEY WASN’T REALLY A DEMON

also remember when he tortured samandriel he could understand enochian

Also, he probably wanted a bigger dick because he didn’t know what the right size was, being an angel for his entire lifetime.

And remember when he went into Sam to warn him about Gadreel - how his smoke was red rather than black? Or how, when Crowley took over hell, he changed it from all the torture, to the souls just standing in long, orderly lines: isn’t order one of the things angels really adore?

Can we please get the writers on this meta.. I want Crowley to end up being an angel demon hybrid thing on the show now…

1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 165,115 notes
kaimitch:

jazzberry-sorbet:

notnights:

assistancebitte:

bilb0baggin:


moisturize me

If I didn’t watch Dr. Who this would make me very uncomfortable.

I watch Doctor Who and it still makes me uncomfortable.

I don’t watch Doctor Who and I am uncomfortable

I watch Doctor Who and I am moisturised

it got better

kaimitch:

jazzberry-sorbet:

notnights:

assistancebitte:

bilb0baggin:

moisturize me

If I didn’t watch Dr. Who this would make me very uncomfortable.

I watch Doctor Who and it still makes me uncomfortable.

I don’t watch Doctor Who and I am uncomfortable

I watch Doctor Who and I am moisturised

it got better

1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 152,016 notes
axmxz:

axmxz:


1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 87,108 notes
sam-winchester-cries-during-sex:

gayngelofthelord:

somewhatdorky:

georgebuttsky:

mariamacintosh:

hatersgonnahateemee:



Why is this gif so perfect??? Because Hotsuff Jared Ackles is in it!



Jared Ackles




that picture is making me very uncomfortable

sam-winchester-cries-during-sex:

gayngelofthelord:

somewhatdorky:

georgebuttsky:

mariamacintosh:

hatersgonnahateemee:

image

Why is this gif so perfect??? Because Hotsuff Jared Ackles is in it!

image

Jared Ackles

image

image

that picture is making me very uncomfortable

1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 416,580 notes

earlgreytea68:

tardismonkey:

crystalreerd:

I SWEAR
image
THIS IS PROMO OF DOCTOR WHO

image
IN THE EPISODE OF DOCTOR WHO
image

image

(Gif by [X]

IT IS SOME KIND OF DOCTOR-WHOCEPTION. 

1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 8,836 notes
1 day ago on October 21st, 2014 | J | 44,533 notes