SandOverload



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  1. Rec 21

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    "You know, Doctor," Columbina began, her voice carrying that haunting quality that made the air around her feel thin. "You possess such a staggering amount of pride."

    Dottore didn't bother to look up from his work, though the corner of his mouth quirked upward in something resembling amusement. "You just noticed?"

    Columbina shook her head slowly, the movement fluid and almost hypnotic. "No. I simply find it... curious. Such a loud display of arrogance from someone who harbors so much self loathing."

    The clinking of instruments ceased abruptly. Dottore paused, the sudden silence in the laboratory weighing heavier than the noise had been. "You're very observant."

    Columbina offered nothing but a soft, melodic hum, though the sound lacked its usual ethereal detachment.

    "Tell me, Columbina is it because you crave to be seen?" Dottore asked, tilting his head slightly.

    Or, 5×2 times Dottore healed others and the 1 time he was healed

    Series
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    27 Aug 2026

  2. Rec 1

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    What’s in a Name anyway? Dottore muses while he dies. Zandik, for all it’s worth, belongs to a bygone past.

    So why is it that their human names seem to make Dottore’s chest tighten.

    Emotions buried under hundreds of years surface in his last moments, bringing him back to a drunken memory.

    A memory of love, that he really thought he had wiped from his mind centuries ago.

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    22 Aug 2026

  3. Rec 82

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    The first time it had happened, it felt wrong, although “wrong” could hardly describe the pits of lustful hell he had descended into.

    Zandik grows old, and Feofan, ever-young and ever-desiring, is approached by the most seductive of devils.

    A tale of a dead bedroom, fading passion and young lovers.

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    7/?
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    08 Aug 2026

  4. Rec 18

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    After a night of drinking, Childe takes Dottore somewhere new.

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    31 May 2026

  5. Rec 29

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    Dottore had removed his coat long ago, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows. His gloves had also long since been set aside; absurdly, the Doctor seemed less likely to wear them when he should have needed them most. Such as when he was digging through the guts of his latest specimen - mechanical or otherwise. But as impractical as it was, it was a quality Childe had always admired about Dottore. He was a very hands-on man, despite how prissy he sometimes behaved. At the end of the day, he was not afraid to get his hands dirty. Childe could see the filth on his hands now as he came a bit closer, smeared with centuries-old, scorched oil and flakes of rust sticking to his knuckles.

     

    Childe swallowed, not sure why it felt so difficult to do so.

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    31 May 2026