#3am for you. hopefully i am right but EITHER WAY IT WORKS

[sunsetstarving]

RAHH DAY'S BIRTHDAY DAY'S BIRTHDAY!! @daydream-draws have a mystery twins just for you :)

you're one of my favorite people to talk to and your spam posting different fandoms has gotten me through MANY a difficult evening--more than that, even, because i often discover new-old stories through you and your fantastic taste :)) it's truly been a privilege to be your friend over the years and grow together in art and life and personhood!! i hope you have an absolutely splendid birthday filled with love and comfort and all of the best things, and i love you so very much 💚

[eliceislandent]

02-06-2023 A Day In The Life - Attempting To Get More Done In Our Busy Days.

6:45am: woke up. I sometimes have to force myself to stay in bed when I wake up at like 3am after five hours of sleep. I feel well rested and am tempted to do the whole “rise and grind” thing, however, these days I am more focused on trying to live consistent and balanced best practices. So more sleep. More than I think I need. Needless to say by 6:45, I was up and at ‘em. My son was in the bed and had decided to sleep horizontally so I to disentangle myself from his legs. I had feet in my face. Appropriately humbling, but not a reason to stay in bed any longer. Amazingly, he stayed asleep. Not so for Nic who was also waking up and about to start the day.

7-8: Made the kids lunch. Made the kids bed. Did some quick meditation/calming breaths with my oldest daughter, then packed them off to school.

8-830: No breakfast today. Fasting for Purim. Purim is itself a great story. And like many in the Jewish religion features a woman — Queen Esther — as the hero of the story. Bravely and shrewdly maneuvering her way around the King’s evil advisor, Haman (BOO!) who wants the King Achasueverus to kill all the Jews in the Persian empire.

That is until Queen Esther reveals to her husband, the King, at the exact right moment that she herself is a Jew. The tide is turned. Achasueverus orders the Jews not to be touched and instead that Haman and his fellow schemers to be killed for their proposed plot. We fast as Jews to commemorate the fact that before Queen Esther saved us, we were facing death at the ends of the most powerful force in the world at that time: The Persian Empire.

I love a good story.

I like when the underdogs win.

When the long shot prevails.

And I love a good twist.

The Purim story has it all.

Unfortunately, I don’t have breakfast to look forward to. SO as not to make my fast any harder, Nicole makes her own breakfast and by 9, after getting dressed, I was on the road with my son taking him to school.

9:30am: Successful school drop off. My son and I rock out Justin Bieber and the Jonas Bros. Then I head back home.

9:30: Writing. Wait, writing? Aren’t I in the car, driving? I am. So, what gives???

One of the things I am working on while writing the next book in “The Eddie Ankin series, “The Crew” is the use of dictation. I have long been interested in this and tried it a few times with the dragon software. But as a Mac user, (Dragon is a PC-based software, which I believe it still is) the process wasn’t seamless. It also required that I carry a digital recorder which I often forgot, or brought with me but never took out of my backpack.

However, despite these unsuccessful early attempts, I stayed interested in the sea of dictations.

The last year or two has seen major improvement in the built-n dictation abilities of Macs and PCs. There is no need for a secondary software or additional equipment. And the computer, or as is often the case, my cell phone, transcribe the words I am saying as I speak them. Every so often the microphone beeps off and the computer/cell phone stops transcribing, but it’s usually obvious and I just have to hit the microphone button to start recording again.

I’m not what you would call a “hack gut.” I mean that in the tech sense not the writer one (though hopefully you won’t think of me as a hack writer either”). In this case, I am referring to the idea of dividing methods that shortcut workflow, save time and maximize efficiency.

Dictation is something I’ve always understood practically as a tool that, if mastered, can help me to do more in less time.

I mean I can type pretty fast. But I cannot type as fast as I speak. With dictation I can get more words written in a single writing session. It’s not without mistakes but depending on the headset I’m using, the place where I’m recording (my office; the car), and my own diction, it is pretty darn good.

It’s not getting the words down faster that I appreciate about addiction dictation. It's also that I am a terrible slow editor. One of the part of my editing process is to read the book out loud and hear how it sounds, particularly the dialogue. By doing dictation I am getting a jump on this process. Sometimes a sentence sounds good in my head but does not sound so good when spoken allowed.

Plus, the more I do dictation the better the computer get at understanding me, and I get at not giving in to some of my bad habits as a writer. Most conveniently, I can dictate anywhere more or less. As long as I have my phone and some quiet. Whereas when I am typing I have to be at my desk or maybe the couch, because I am working off my laptop.

Today, in the car I was able to dictate the beginnings of a chapter. Nearly 800 words in 20 minutes. After a revision pass that’s likely to end up around 650-700 words. But still, 650 words in 20 minutes. That means I can get a chapter done in an hour. Maybe less. Unfortunately, I am not yet that practiced at doing dictation. So, I haven’t been enjoying the full fruits of my labor with it since I am still finding my way. It is strange how hearing a story spoken aloud makes it “read” different than when it is written on paper. Or read in a book.

It’s also worth keeping this in mind as I explore the ins and outs of turning my first novel, “The Strange Crimes of Beatrice Clover” into an audiobook.

On the dictation front, a shout out to Kevin J. Anderson who is probably the first author I ever heard talk about dictation as a way to write books and to Steve Higgs, who writes amazing cozy mysteries, who also sings the efficiency and time saving virtues of dictation. Also, Norman Lear, the iconic, prolific, and seemingly immortal television producer who created “All in the Family” who is also a practitioner of dictating his writing. In his memoir, “Even This I Get To Experience” he tells the story of how he used dictation to overcome a terrible case of writers block from which he was suffering. Now, I’m not nearly so proficient at it…yet. But, as the saying goes, practice makes perfect. When I get home I’ll edit what I “wrote” (dictated) in the car

10am: It’s the day before Purim so the morning prayers run a little longer this morning, but by

10:45 I am back at the writing, stopping to place a couple of work phone calls around noon to people waking up on the west coast.

12:30pm I take Nicole to a dentist appointment on my way to pick up my son. Some more dictation, but this time into “Eddie Ankin” Book One “The Double” for a chapter I am in the process of editing/revising. I don’t usually use dictation for revisions but in this case I know the few spots I wanted to make some changes. I also knew pretty clearly the way I wanted to change them. So, I dictated those changes on the way home.

1p: Grocery shopping. Tough when fasting. I live vicariously through my son who eats Oreos from the pack and drinks a juice pack. He tries the chicken nuggets from the deli counter, but isn’t a fan. My children are particular eaters.

1:40 Head home.

2: After getting my son situated I go back to work. I edit what I dictated early this morning, and I finish this post. In what feels like no time I am back in the car going to pick up my girls from their school. Normally, Nicole will do one or even both of the pick ups and drops off on days when she works from home, but today she had a bunch of appointments and meetings so I handled them today.

2:45 Nic gets home and I head out the doo to pickup the girls at school

3: Make snack for the kids while Nic does a work meeting.

3:30 Play with kids while breaking to bring this post current.

More to come….

(I am trying to be better about consistently updating these daily logs when I write them. The goal is Monday, Wednesday Friday, but life and work has thus far gotten in my way. I am recommitting myself and redoubling my efforts. I believe doing so is not only a useful record of where my times goes…But, also a record of a time in my life I hope to look back on someday and appreciate this part of the journey. Also, because I know how much I enjoyed and found it useful when others who are successful recorded their days and shared it with others. Hopefully, anyone following along finds this at least a little bit useful and entertaining.)

[the-ghost-king]

Personal Cecil, Lou Ellen, and Will headcanons but they're messily composed because it's 1am but they're extra trans (and hopefully not too transphobic) to make up for it:

okay so Will grows up on some huge family plot of land that they farm and idk what they grow maybe like mixed veggies and grains or maybe they just have livestock idk

someone gave them a pig at some point when Will was a baby or toddler or something and my Will is Jewish so they're not allowed to do anything with the pig besides keep it as a pet but it's friends with the cattle dog so this is okay

he meets Lou Ellen when he's in like kindergarten or first grade or something they're both like really young and fast best friends

I'm torn between they meet Cecil in New York at camp and he's from a more conservative or maybe even Orthodox Jewish family, but I also love the idea of him being a kid Will (reformist) knew from synagogue who joined their friend group

either way when Will was a kid Cecil totally had a crush on him (but like trans Will, because Cecil being the solo cishet in the friend group is funny)

Will is that early bloomer trans kid that's got it figured out (more or less) by like 11 or 12 or something

he comes from a really supportive family with a really mixed racial and ethnic background so being trans is just normal

it's culturally relevant to his family in the stories they tell and pass on so even if nobody else in his family is trans or similar he just grows up with it right beside him

also (to simplify things) there's six genders in Judaism so it's just like chill that he's trans

Lou Ellen realizes she's trans because of him and they fight because she's not ready to come out yet even to herself and she's working through some jealousy feelings about the fact that Will's family loves him as himself and all sorts of just complicated stuff that she isn't ready to talk about

Will's upset because he thinks Lou Ellen is super transphobic (conservative chrisitian household or something) and he doesn't want to lose his best friend

once again torn between Cecil's entry point into the friend group but him having to sit awkwardly in the middle seat of he car and attempt to make conversation between Lou Ellen and Will during the year they're fighting when Naomi or Cecil's mom take them back and forth from Texas and Camp (or if Cecil is from New York some equally long road trip with camp chaperones for like medical supplies or something idk)

also I think it would be funny and horrible if Cecil had plans to ask Will out on like Thursday and finds out on Tuesday that he's trans (in the sense that Cecil only likes girls) so Cecil's plans go out the window

I think Will should date Drew here and Will is still working through the "am I trans masc or non binary? ok if yes to trans masc, am I like entirely man or just a bit dude on the scale? does that make me straight or a lesbian? etc" and all those un fun but memorable gender-sexuality questions that you take 3am crisis quizzes for <3

Lou Ellen manages to work through her feelings and she comes out to Will in tears and apologetic and "I'm so sorry I was just jealous" and all those other really annoying 13-14 year old feelings

everything is good between them even if a bit tentative at first but during this point they're at camp so Lou Ellen and Will figure out this messy early fun trans years together where she helps him pick out his first short hair cut and measure for a binder (which he doesn't need because his mom helped him get on blockers but he wants one so...) meanwhile he's equally lost on how to do makeup but trying to learn the things Lou Ellen can't figure out herself so he can teach her and they're both trying to figure out what you can eat to make your hair grow faster, etc

ofc through all of this there are classic friend group shenanigans and coming of age stuff like perfecting powers and magic, Will moving up in the infirmary, Lou Ellen and Cecil designing pranks together, but all sad things like siblings dying and war and other canon events

anyhow they go home after that summer back to Texas and Lou starts having a tough time at home and after just a few weeks she just picks up a phone and asks Naomi if she can move into their spare bedroom and of course the answer is yes (ofc)

so Will gets a new sister/best friend in his house in addition to the probably like 16 cousins that also live on the property

Texas is super transphobic but this is my niche headcanon fantasy so we'll say it's less so, and there's some magic loophole law that Lou Ellen is able to get on blockers after just a few months living with Naomi and Will

this goes on for maybe a year or so uninterrupted

except more messy teenage feelings make their way in because Cecil is dating someone to try to get over having liked Will because he is straight meanwhile Lou Ellen is catching feelings for Cecil but doesn't want to get in the way of his new relationship or their friendship

Will breaks up with Drew and comes out as bi/pan/queer (label differention doesn't matter to him personally) sometime before that or after that? Idk queue recognition crush on Nico somewhere around here

Lou Ellen's family starts coming back around and they're not perfect but they're at least trying now but she still wants to live with Naomi but she agrees to meet with them once a week or something

Cecil is still dating his girlfriend but realizing this may not be the best choice as he is catching feelings for Lou Ellen now but he is worried about ruining their friendship.. should he talk to Will about this?

Will starts medical transition <3

Cecil breaks things off with his girlfriend and decides maybe to try to date Lou Ellen but he's worried she won't like him

Lou Ellen is able to start medical transition!! She's extremely happy but her family starts to pull back

this upsets Lou Ellen, understandably, and queue some sort of Cecil gets relationshipped blocked again by a similar problem in the same friend group

he's a trooper though and knows that's not the important thing and is absolutely there for Lou Ellen alongside Will and all their other friends and found family through this

at some point during the aforementioned events Will finally notices that Cecil and Lou Ellen like each other (he tends to be thick when it comes to such) and from this also pieces together the realization that Cecil used to like him

despite Will finding this funny he now exists in his friend group in a constant state of "holy shit what is wrong with you two just kiss already"

anyhow Lou Ellen and Will get fun happy trans puberty feelings and everything is a bit bittersweet

Nico and Will end up together at some point and good for them etc etc

it's Nico who ends up getting into people's business and meddling a bit (with Mitchell's help of course, he is making friends <3) manages to her Cecil and Lou Ellen together

Will is incredibly thankful because the tension was killing him but he's also happy his friends are happy

it's been a year or two now and Lou Ellen's family is coming back around and she's weary of them but she's still willing to try and this time they're much more genuine and try harder and semester more interested in her and her life and keeping her around

so her and Cecil are happy together and everyone now picks on Cecil for being the cishet of the friend group who managed to crush on both the trans kids and more than one gender without realizing it, etc etc

but it's all in good fun and they all love him for it

Nico and Will can have a happy ending too, everyone can enjoy walking off into the Texas sunset or something or into the New York Streets for college or New Rome or something idk happily ever after though because I want to

Okay now it's 2:30 am so I stop here an leave it all messy and go to bed <3

[softyoongiionly]

Talk to Me in Korean (Advanced Edition)

Your boyfriend’s English is basically better than yours at this point.

After an amazing birthday, he decides to use his newfound skills to get ahead and begin planning next years celebration.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Genre: established relationship au, domestic au, idol! jk, this is a part three to my other talk to me in korean installments but they don’t have to be read in order :)

A/N: Hiiii I’m back??? Hopefully??? This past month has been ROUGH (but like 2020 am I rite?) so I’ve been having a ton of writers block but as always, Jungkook has a way of pulling me out of all of the that. I’m sorry this is like my 50000th domestic jk story in a row ok??? I CANT HELP IT, ITS HIS FAULT. okiii anyway I love you, it’s 3am- this is unedited and im so sleepy. I love you again. 

Warnings: smut (18+ only plz), more so dirty talking than anything but stillll 

Fresh coffee.  

It’s the first thing Jungkook smells when his eyes peek open.  

His flush against the white cotton of the pillow that still holds the scent of your shampoo.  

He literally can’t help the grin that erupts onto his lips as he remembers exactly how the night before played out.  

As he remembers exactly where he is.  

He remembers that his members had organized a surprise dinner for his birthday party which included the finest selection of meat, veggies and various other side dishes money could buy.  

Not to mention, they ended the evening the introduction of a giant banana milk themed cake.  

Despite stuffing himself till near immobilization as well as being surrounded by his best friends, nothing could have prepared him for his final gift: you.  

The boys had flown you in from out of town and organized for your arrival in the middle of the party.  

Jungkook may have shed a few tears as nothing could have made him happier than seeing his beautiful girlfriend pushing through the doors of the venue.  

Once the boys had gone to home, Jungkook had taken you up to his room to finish off the evening with birthday sex.  

Predictable? Maybe.

Did either of you care? Absolutely not.  

It had been 3 months since the two of you had seen each other and he was nothing short of desperate for your touch.  

Now however, he’s experiencing a different kind of bliss as the smell of bacon begins to waft in through his cracked bedroom door.  

His smile broadens as he realizes very quickly that the same beautiful woman who had made his birthday so special had woken up early to make him breakfast.  

He cannot begin to imagine how lucky he is but, he plans on using his day off to show you how much he appreciates you.  

In a million different ways...

Running a hand through the raven locks on his head, he pushes himself to a sitting position. Upon doing so, he notices the faint red marks over the valleys and curves of his stomach whilst simultaneously feeling a hint of pain across the middle of his back. He smirks to himself and curiously runs the tips of his fingers over the aggravated flesh of his stomach.  

What a night...

He finally stands up, moving his body in every necessary direction to stretch out the soreness in his muscles before taking note of his current attire.  

Given the events of last night, it surprised him that he had even managed to pull on the pair of white boxer-briefs that currently adorned his figure. He assumed he had fallen asleep naked.  

Jungkook experiences a pivotal moment then, completely on his own.  

He realizes that he doesn’t want to put anything else on.  

To some people, this wouldn’t be a big deal but to Jungkook, its everything.  

When he first travelled to Seoul, he was too shy to remove his shirt in front of his hyungs, let a lone strut around the dorm in his boxers.  

But with you, he’s finally starting to realize that not only is he comfortable with you but, he has a massive desire to express that to you.  

He wants you to have parts of him that no one else has.  

He wants you to know that you’re the only one who gets him this way.  

Without the fancy clothes, the layers of makeup, the band aids on his tattoos, the carefully scripted words and persona...

That you alone have all of him.  

He chuckles to himself, running a hand through his hair once again as he picks on himself for making such a big deal out of something so small.

But he knows that you’d get it and that quickly squashes any of his desire to make fun of himself.  

As he approaches his bedroom door, he feels the ghost of nerves directly in the pit of his stomach.  

Why was he nervous? You’ve literally seen him naked before.

He’s been inside of you more times than he can count so why was he overthinking going out to greet his girlfriend in his boxers?

He rolls his eyes at himself, “Because you’re weird, that’s why...” He mutters to himself before finally pushing open the door.  

His kitchen is off to the left, slightly tucked behind a bit of wall and he is annoyed with the layout of his apartment because he is getting in the way of immediately seeing your pretty face.  

When he does see you however, it’s entirely worth the wait.  

You’ve got a portable speaker set up a safe distance away from your work station emitting a bit of soothing music throughout the kitchen along with a pot of fresh coffee on the island with his favorite Iron Man mug sitting right next to it, awaiting his arrival. There’s a few pans on the stovetop sizzling with various breakfast items that Jungkook doesn’t care to notice at first because his eyes are far too concerned with you.  

And boy does he desperately wish that this was his daily life...

Your wear minimal clothing as well but there are fuzzy socks on your feet and a bit of bedhead adorning your crown and that’s really all that he needs to see to conclude that you are the most fantastic thing to ever grace the planet.  

“G’morning...” He nearly mumbles, placing a hand on the counter.

He ensures his voice is soft enough not to startle you and thankfully his presence emits nothing more but a smile from your lips.

You turn towards him with the same smile, eyes raking over his body shamelessly before returning his greeting, “Good morning birthday boy. Did you sleep ok?”

He chuckles lightly, his head cocking to the side in confusion, “My birthday was...yesterday yeah?”

Your smile grows at his question as you make your way over to the sleepy man before you.

“It was.” You concede and as you near his figure, you slide your hands around his waist, “But I wasn’t with you the whole day so, I’m trying to make up for lost time.”

Immediately, he grins boyishly his capable hands sliding up your body to pull you flush against his.

“But you already gave me so many presents...” He insists, leaning towards your lips, “Remember last night?”

You take a moment to admire how good his English has gotten and silently applaud him for managing to lead such an incredibly busy life and learn a second language all at the same time. You try your best not to vocalize your praise to often though because you know how shy it makes him.  

Before you can answer, he presses his lips to yours, humming gently in his throat and promptly smiling into your mouth.  

As you indulge in him for a moment your fingers gently brush the tan skin across his back. Your touch sends a shiver up your boyfriends back which then gives you no choice but to return the smile present in your kiss.

“Duh...” You murmur which prompts a delighted chuckle to escape his mouth, “How could I forget? You were like superman last night with all that stamina...”

Your observation causes your boyfriend to frown playfully as he points to the mug sitting atop the counter.

“Not superman- Iron Man.” He insists, still holding you close, the warmth of his presence infecting you.  

With a snort, you pull back slightly to catch the glint in his eyes, “I don’t know how me comparing you to Ironman would make much sense babe but, if you want to be Iron Man then how am I to deny you?”

Jungkook smirks, already satisfied with his response before he’s even uttered it.

“I’m like Iron Man because he is a machine...” He wiggles his brows at you, “...and so am I.”

After the look of incredulity that crosses your face, you have no choice but to laugh, leaning slightly away from him to indicate that you have to head back to your breakfast before it burns.

“Alright fair enough-” You concede, still giggling a bit as his grip tightens on your body, his own beautiful smile still present on his mouth, “I gotta finish cooking, or else we’re gonna have burnt bacon for breakfast.”

He shrugs, unimpressed as he uses his inhuman strength to hug you tighter,  “Bacon is bacon.”

This prompts more laughter as he reluctantly walks to the stove with you, your body still encased in his grip.

“I can’t cook with your mega muscles constricting my arms-” You point out, craning your neck slightly to try and meet his gaze, a ghost of a smile on your lips, which is still locked onto a mixture of mischief and joy.

With a furrowed brow he leans in slowly before pecking your lips quickly and finally releasing you, “What is constricting?”

His question is asked from near the coffee pot, his hands gingerly moving his mug closer to him.

He is VERY careful with this particular mug.

“Constricting is like when you squeeze something really really tight-” You explain softly, taking the now well-done strips of bacon out of the pan before laying them on some paper towels.

He’s pouring himself a cup of coffee, his eyes narrowed in focus as he nods, “Ohhh ok- you mean like how snakes do?”

“Yeah exactly!” You smile brightly, turning towards him with encouragement on your face, “that’s why we call certain kinds of snakes constrictors because that’s how they kill their pray. Honestly, it wasn’t the best word choice on my part because, people definitely use the word squeeze more but-”

He shakes his head then, his eyes still focusing on preparing his cup of coffee, “It doesn’t matter- you taught me another new word without even trying to.” He assures you before a cocky smirk comes across his face, “I bet I know more words than Namjoon-hyung now...”

His comment makes you laugh as his competitiveness is something you adore despite the fact that you don’t fully understand it.

“Oh for sure, you probably know more words than I do honestly, with how often you practice.”  

Jungkook smiles broadens at your praise, his eyes finally flitting up towards you, “Probably.”

He laughs along with you now, the sound of your giggling sending warmth into his heart as he brings the mug to his lips.

“You’re a brat.” You point out simply, still smiling because you literally do nothing else with this kid as you begin to fry up the last batch of bacon.

Suddenly, you feel his presence behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist whilst his nose burrows playfully into your neck, “Noooo an angel.”

Snorting again, you pretend his lips near such a sensitive area doesn’t affect you as you continue with your current task, “An angel? What on Earth would make you think that?”

Your teasing prompts a bout of snickering to leave his lips as he hugs you tighter to him, the soft scent of his hair sending a wave of comfort through you.

“You call me a good boy all the time...”

Although his comment is meant to be innocent, the way he intentionally lowers his tone causes your thighs to press together.

“I do,” You admit, trying to keep it together as you crack a few eggs into an awaiting pan, “I don’t know if that makes you an angel though.”

Jungkook senses the change in your voice and rather then shy away from the direction the conversation is heading, he decides to go with it.  

“That’s true-” He murmurs and it’s then you can feel the smirk against the curve of your neck, “Especially since you only call me that when I’m making you cum huh?”

This causes your eyes to grow wide and given that your flirtatious boyfriend is staring at you already, there is no way for you to hide it.

So instead you play along, enjoying this new side of him more than you care to admit.

“Exactly.” You mutter, giggling to yourself as you feel a bit of heat on your cheeks, “Go set the table or something- you're going to make me burn the kitchen down.”

With a cheeky giggle, he seems satisfied with his mission to fluster you, placing a kiss to your cheek and rushing off to do as you’ve asked him to.

Breakfast passes without any more of Jungkook’s reckless behavior and you’re thankful for it because, you sincerely doubt that you’d be able to focus on your plate when you have a foul-mouthed buffet sitting across from you.

Jungkook insists on helping you clean up whilst also reminding you once again that his birthday was yesterday and that he doesn’t want any more special treatment.

All he wants is to be with you today.

You honor his request by sitting up a massive mountain of pillows and blankets in his living room and situating yourselves in front of his flat screen.

With the curtains closed and the scent of Jungkook’s sea breeze candle wafting throughout the room, the two of you begin watching a movie together.  

However, halfway through the movie, the plans begin to morph into something else entirely.

Armed with newly found confidence, your boyfriend begins kissing you, his hands making their way towards your hips.

The pace of your breathing picks up rather quickly when he suckles your bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling against the swollen flesh.

“For my birthday- next year...” He whispers into your mouth, eyes fluttering open as he nudges your nose, “I want to kiss you all day.”

His request causes you to smile, your hands slowly sliding up his neck to tuck into the hair at the back of his head, “Whatever you want.”

Your response causes his eyes to sparkle with mischief once more, delighted at how willing you are to give him whatever he wants, “Oh- it’s whatever I want hm? Just like that?”

The way he’s speaking to you makes you a little light headed and rather than try to reign back his bout of authority, you decide to run with it, “Just like that.”

Your response is spoken into his mouth, the kiss between you breaking so he can maneuver you onto your back. For a moment, he braces his hands on either side of your head, his perfect body hovering over you, with only the long strands of his hair and the thin silver chains around his neck reaching for you.  

“What if-” He grins before grinding his hips against you, the swollen bit of his boxers rubbing against your clothed core, “I wanted to be in here all day? Would you let me?”

Through the waves of pleasure, your eyes squeeze shut for a moment before you nod, your fingers beginning to wander up the outsides of his forearms.

“Whatever you want...”

His grin is stable but the pace of his breathing is quickening, indicating his excitement.

He wants more out of this conversation though and decides to press you further.  

“Would you let me put my face down there all day too? You wouldn’t have to cook for me if you did...” He points out before his grin morphs into a smirk as he leans down towards your lips, “I’d get full off your pussy wouldn’t I?”

The switch in languages also indicates his level of arousal as his mentioned before that English is far more difficult when he’s wrapped up in his emotions or in this case, his desires.  

Using your nails, you lightly tickle your way up to shoulders tugging playfully to see if he’ll come to lay down on you fully but he doesn’t budge. He merely chuckles and grinds against you once again.

“Patience...” He parrots a phrase that you often utter to him when roles are reversed in the bedroom and the glimmer in his eyes informs you that he is eating up your reaction to him.

“But I want you...” You whine to him, hoping his thing for hearing you speak his language will be enough to break his resolve but he isn’t ready to give in just yet.

“That’s too bad jagiya, I’m not finish planning my birthday just yet.” Jungkook whines mockingly in return, the innocent curls framing his face contradicting his salacious demeanor, “I want to know how many marks you’d leave on me- maybeeeeee...” He draws out the word as his teeth tuck into his bottom lip, “25? One for every year of my birthday?”

Since attempting to tug him down didn’t work out, you decide to wrap your legs around his waist to further some sort of contact between you two.  

“Twenty five? Your stylists would kill me...” You point out giggling, pushing your now damp panties against the swell of his length beneath his boxers.  

Rather cockily, Jungkook snorts and leans down once again to brush his lips over yours, “I don’t give a fuck what the noonas say, they know how to cover me up and, even if they can’t- people are just gonna have to deal with it.” Another smirk forms on his mouth before he sucks your bottom lip between his teeth, “it would be really hard for them if they fired me don’t you think?”

You gotta admit, his new found attitude is turning you on. It’s not like Jungkook to be so cocky, despite the way some people may think and although you know for a fact that he’s putting it on for you, you have no problem sucking it up anyway.  

“Definitely. BigHit would have hell to pay...” You concede, your words slightly muffled due to the current location of your bottom lip. Once more your hands tangle their way into his hair and you take advantage of this position to kiss him, hoping that will be enough to convince him to drop the teasing.  

He kisses you back with enthusiasm, his lower body relaxing slightly as more and more of him presses against you.  

“You’re wet.”  He whispers, his eyes still closed whilst he continues to peck at your bottom lip, “Are you ready for my dick now?”  

With his inquiry, he grinds against you once more, sending a shiver of pleasure up your spine.  Your surprised that he spoke the second sentence in English as he usually would have switched fully to Korean at this point.  

“Namjoon’s really been rubbing off on you lately...”  

This insignificant comment lights a fire in Jungkook’s chest and prompts him to quickly pin your wrists above your head. His features hold a bit of disapproval but, mostly they hold that competitive look that is so uniquely Jungkook.  

That “I’m going to win just to show you how good I am” kind of look.

“Why does everyone assume that Namjoon is the most perverted huh? Just cause he talks about it the most? He writes a few dirty lyrics and talks about porn and suddenly he’s the only one who wants to fuck? Jagiya- do you want to know why I look so distracted all the time?” He giggles in an almost maniacal fashion, a dark smirk prominent on his lips as he cocks his head, “It’s because I’m usually thinking about fucking you. Everyone always thinks I’m so shy- so innocent, but you’d let them know huh jagi?  You’d let them know how fucking dirty I am wouldn’t you? I don’t think ARMY could handle it if they knew the truth...” Jungkook offers that same type of laughter once again before kissing you once more, “Now answer my question- are you ready for my dick now?”

His words and behavior stun you a little bit but mostly it just sends more arousal to your core and ruins your odds of putting these pair of panties back on when the two of you are done.  

“Yes sir...” You giggle, saluting him playfully as you wrap your legs around his waist again, “I’m so ready for you- please? Can I have it?”  

Your pleas work immediately on your boyfriend, who is already struggling with his level of arousal and before you know it, he is fucking both you of you into orgasmic bliss.  

It’s over too quickly but it’s the kind of fuck that you know it going to prompt a round two.

Or maybe even a round three or four if you’re lucky...

Jungkook’s head is on your chest now, his arms hugging you tightly to his body, his post-orgasmic glow riding him of any of his previously cocky attitude.  

“I like this.” He murmurs, licking his chapped lips and nuzzling between your breasts.

You smile fondly down at him, “Cuddling?”

He shakes his head, his eyes beginning to flutter shut, “Not just cuddling- but you, being here, at my house with me.”

With a kiss to his forehead, you use your free hand to brush his hair from his eyes, “I like being here with you too.”

There is a bit of color that finds it’s way to Jungkook’s cheeks as he utters a suggestion, “You should stay here with me. I will move my stuff around for you...”

It’s such a simple notion and yet it nearly moves you to tears but before you’re able to breach the topic further, his eyes fully close as he relaxes his weight completely.  

Without clarity regarding whether or not he can hear you, you utter your response into his hair,

“Sounds good, roomie.”

[imaginesofmtl]

Can I request the boys reactions to their girlfriend telling them that she's pregnant? I'm so excited to find a new dethklok blog! I love your work already ❣️

Thank you so much! Sorry again that this fill is so late. Hopefully you enjoy it!

Nathan just...stares. For a really long time. Like a really long time. He has to make the appropriate room for this information in his head, but once he’s done, he sort of blinks and returns to the moment. “Holy shit, you’re not kidding are you? Hoooooooly shit. I’m gonna be a dad? Fuck. Wow. Fuck.” He’s clearly excited about the idea but he’s in so much shock it probably won’t register with him properly until 3am when he remembers he should probably call his parents and tell them they’re going to have a grandkid.

Pickles goes bug-eyed. “Yer kiddin’! ...Yer naht kiddin’? Jesus Christ! We’re gonna be parents??” He puts out his joint, fans the smoke away, then cups his girlfriend’s face in his hands. “This is crazy! This is so fuckin’ crazy.” He kisses her. “Parents! Us!” And he kisses her again. He’s happy, but she can tell there’s this undercurrent of immediate stress.

Skwisgaar figured it was only a matter of time, so he’s not really that surprised when she finally tells him. He’s heard so many “I’m pregnant” speeches over the years, and his girlfriend seems to have that in the back of her mind when she very shyly and carefully informs him. He has to reassure her of how much he loves her and how committed he is, and to prove it, he has Charles find the paternity waiver she signed when they first met, and he tears it up in front of her. “How many times I gots to tells you? Ams wantings to bes withs yous. Ands our child.”

Toki lights up brighter than a firework. He can’t stop hugging her and kissing her and giggling. “Oh wowee!! Wowee!!!” He picks her up, gives her a twirl. More kisses! More hugs! He wants to know everything right away! “Whens the baby ams gonna gets here? How ams it gonna comes out?? What we gonna names it?? What you thinks its favorite color ams gonna be???”

Murderface kind of recoils a little at first. “Scheriouschly? Like, right now? You’re pregnant right now?” Slowly, he puts a curious hand on his girlfriend’s stomach. “Scho it’sch in there? Right now? You’re schure? Woah...” Later that night, when he thinks she’s asleep, he puts his ear to her stomach and listens. “Hey kiddo, what’sch up? I’m your dad...can you hear me in there?” And she falls asleep to the soft sound of Murderface whispering to their unborn child.

Charles, of course, had been planning this with his girlfriend for quite some time, so he assumed he would know what to expect when the announcement finally came. But when his girlfriend tells him, it hits him in a way he hadn’t foreseen. His eyes well up, he can barely get a word out. All he can manage is a little “that’s wonderful” before he’s overwhelmed and hugging her tight.

Magnus is, to put it mildly, terrified. This wasn’t exactly planned. He’d never thought of himself as father material, either. Furthest thing from it. He can’t possibly do this. And he’s old! He’s gonna be almost 70 by the time the stupid kid graduates high school (if they even graduate! what if they drop out because he’s such a horrible father??). He is near tears and doesn’t understand why his girlfriend isn’t freaking out with him, and she has to remind him that they’ve made it this far together. They can handle this too. Magnus is skeptical and still so scared...but god he loves her. That has to be worth something, right?

[jazzytriestowrite]

Soft Villain Headcanons

Fandom; My hero academia 

Pairings; Dabi, Shigaraki and Kurogiri x GN Reader (separate)

Synopsis; A lot of people tend to only see the bad and rough sides of villains, but what about their soft sides? The sides they keep reserved for their s/o and people they trust?  What happens after a long day of villainous work? What do they do once the doors are closed and it’s only them and their s/o alone. 

Warnings; Fluff, soft mentions of rough pasts and hurt. 

Word Count; 904

A/N;  I’ll be honest, I just needed some soft villains right now and decided to write them. It made me feel better writing this as angsty love songs played in the background. Hopefully someone else enjoys this, and I am always open to criticism and help. I didn’t really go through and edit this a lot, so there may be a few mistakes.

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

Shigaraki

➸ One look at Shigaraki and one might say ‘’This man wouldn’t treat his s/o good.’’ Well they couldn’t be more wrong. Just because he’s a villain has nothing to do with it and his crusty lips don’t either. Shigaraki would be an amazing s/o, and not just because he’s strong minded and knows what he wants, it’s because he’d treat his s/o like they were his whole world. 

➸Since he’s been neglected due to love and abandonment issues he’d latch onto the first person who even said they slightly liked him. He’s like a lost puppy who just wants love and affection, which he deserves. 

➸While he’ll never admit it, he's a very lovey dovey and wants to give and receive affection all the time. He wants hugs, cuddles and kisses all the time. If you don’t give it to him, he’ll start pouting and possibly get annoyed until you give him what he wants. 

➸ His favorite thing to do with you is have you in his lap as you play a game, he’ll get all excited and explain everything to you while showing you everything. If you already know, just shut up and let him have his moment. 

➸ While Shigaraki can be hard to approach for most people, he enjoys when you have no problem strutting up to him and starting a conversation. It makes him feel less lonely and unbearable. Just seeing your eyes light up as you spot him makes his day, and he couldn’t ask for anyone better. 

➸ His second favorite thing to do with you is to simply cuddle. He likes to be the little spoon since he feels the most loved in the position. It feels nice to be held and protected while he sleeps. He’s mush in your hands. 

➸ His kisses can range to soft pecks to full blown make out sessions, so that really depends on what kind of mood he’s in. He enjoys either, just your lips pressed against his is better than any drug out there.

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

Dabi 

➸ Dabi is one cocky motherfucker, and you learned that way before even deciding to date him, yet that cockiness struck something in you. While dating Mr. Cocky, you learned just how.. Insecure he was. 

➸Dabi was a wandering child when it came to love, one who put up multiple walls to protect him from the harshness of the world he knew. There are times where he needs reassurance that you won’t be just another person who’ll leave him again. He is cocky, but he’s also madly in love with you and scared to lose you.

➸His job is really stressful at times and many people tend to forget that being a villain isn’t just some walk in the park. Sometimes he’ll come home gloomy and tired and you just know what you need to do. He’ll simply climb into  bed, and you’ll open your arms for him without a second thought. He’ll lay right on your stomach as you run your hands through his hair, washing all his worries away with a few strokes. 

➸Your presence alone is enough to soothe him. While he knows he can act like an asshole, or be a bit too rough to you amidst his love for you, he also likes being soft with you. Like laying on the couch and watching tv, you know the normal things. 

➸He likes the 3am chats with you, where he spills his heart to you in the moment and hopes you won’t ever look at him differently. He looks at you like you're the only person in the world, and he holds you that way too. 

➸He lives for the soft kisses and soft caresses, and while he’s usually rough, in these moments he appreciates going slow and appreciating the moment between you two. 

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆

Kurogiri

➸This man is already a mother and father for the LOV, so he already has that nature to fix things and makes sure things go to plan. He’s always cleaning up Shigaraki’s mess and keeping everyone from killing each other. Yet has anyone ever been the one to cook for him? Make sure he’s okay? Ensure that he isn’t stressing out to the max.

➸That’s where you come in. Coming to you always makes him feel loved and cherished, never feeling like he has to run the extra mile to be with you. He appreciates when you cook for him, bonus points if it's a surprise. It’s enough to make him pause and genuinely smile. It doesn’t matter if you burned it, or if it tasted terrible, it’s the thought that counts. 

➸He likes just laying with you, preferably being the little spoon as he tells you all about his day and the crazy things that happened. This doesn’t happen too often, but sometimes he needs to be taken care of as well. So joint showers or doing foot masks are helpful. 

➸Kurogiri likes you. He is the type to use someone for the benefit of Shigaraki succeeding, but you aren’t like that. You are one of the only people beside Shigaraki that he truly likes and cares for. He worries for your wellbeing all the time, and constantly checks in to make sure you are okay. 

➸This man is soft pretty much all the time around you, as you literally melt his cold heart. You just accepting who he is is enough for him to forever stay.

[mrpenguinpants]

KAEYA PLAYING WITH ABYSS MAGES AHDHSHDHSB IM- that’s so cute????? Guizhong being older than Zhongli is such a valid hc, I fully support and condone it. Thank you. And Childe growing to like battle was something I found interesting because he was once mentioned to be fragile and weak in his character stories iirc? I like to think that maybe the initial reason he persevered was to overcome that past status.

Also, YES. They’d have the worst habits, and it would eventually become more visible the more comfortable it becomes, but Keqing just gives up on trying to change anything because it’s literally hopeless.

I also headcanon that they have different ways to show appreciation for Keqing. E.g. Childe sometimes uses one of his cringy ass Russian nicknames and when she looks up the meaning, she turns from the most straight-faced woman known to man to a highkey affection-starved queen self-destructing in her room.

Diluc leaves a note on her desk that are simple “Sleep early today. Tomorrow is your day-off.” or “Don’t over work yourself.” messages. He’s so self-conscious about it because like, what if Kaeya catches him up at night contemplating whatever reaction he’ll get. Ends up feeling so accomplished whenever his messages bring a smile to her face.

Kaeya, I feel, would be more open in a sense? Keqing is the last person he thinks he’s be able to deceive, and so he chooses not to. He’s probably one who enjoys deep conversations about literally anything be it mosaic artwork or changes in between modern and archaic politics. A good listener and a fine conversation partner, I feel they’d certainly have interesting conversations.

Zhongli lowkey seizing every opportunity to bring up Rex Lapis and his sense of humor is lowkey degrading Morax for his past mistakes. He’s like “Oh, I thought you hated him. I hate him too” and proceeds to laugh at the fact that the oh-so legendary Geo archon bore a hole in his hoodie for his hair. FOR HIS HAIRS. Keqing is losing her sanity trying not to expose herself as a closeted fan.

The anon lists’ name is super cute btw! Makes me feel pretty blessed for being there haha. I just finished midterms and goodness, I am exhausted. We’re having a short break so I think I can send asks much faster during the brief moment of rest. And pls drink responsibly 🙏

Sincerely, Keqing harem brainrot anon

I lowkey plucked Kaeya playing with mobs and shoved it into the royalty au because god damn, that’s fucking cute. I’m so behind on my asks;; but it’s okay cause we’re here now. I don’t know, Guizhong being that older sister/mother/whatever figure is so heartwarming to me. I think you’re right? I vaguely remember him saying he was pretty fragile but I have the memory of a goldfish haha. Lowkey, this is why I really want the part 2 and 3 of character story quests to go more in depth with their actual character stories. I want to see Childe talk about his feelings and meet his siblings, I want to hear more about Guizhong, I want to hear about the crippling loneliness and depression that Bennett and Barbara have (NO I WILL NOT SHUT UP ABOUT THIS PART. WHY THE FUCK IS GENSHIN NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS? I KNOW ITS FUN AND GAMES BUT LET ME CARE ABOUT THEM. 1.4 has these hangout events and istg, bennett and barabara have one and if we don’t talk about our feelings I’m going to cry). 

oml their bad habits, Zhongli and his extensive collection of plants because that’s the most social interaction he gets (yes, zhongli is a planter. no i do not take criticism tyvm) and it starts off with a couple plants. Not too bad. Then the next day Keqing walks and it looks like their entire home turned into a forest. But Zhongli loves his plant children and Keqing is slowly losing her mind and starts referring to the plants with the nicknames Zhongli gave them. 

This. This is cute. These appreciation ideas. I fully approve and we need to bring them back. I don’t know anything about Russian but I have a friend that does. But I don’t know how to casually say “hey, can you give me Russian nicknames of endearment. It’s for research.”. Keqing radiates professional in the front, social anxiety in the back. I just love that they added the detail that she’s secretly a Rex Lapis fan but pretends that she hates him. I know there is art of Zhongli lowkey being creeped out or vv smug when he find’s Keqings stash but idk, imagining him being a proud dad and giving headpats even though Keqing is an adult. 

Okay. Let me level with you. Sticky notes of reassuring phrases are the best and why the fuck aren’t people doing it more. I’ve been reading “my mom left a note on the table” or “my partner puts sticky notes in my textbooks as a pick me up” for CENTURIES but am I seeing it in real life? Fuck no. Please, if someone does this for you. Keep them, never let them go. I can imagine Diluc writing these messages, feeling confident when he writes them and ready to be a supportive person. The next day he’s looking at these notes and thinking “what the fuck did I just write, this is garbage” (totally not how I feel about my writing). Then he proceeds to throw them in some cabinet but since Kaeya doesn’t know the first thing about personal boundaries he goes snooping around in Diluc’s room, discovers the notes, and he ends up taking them and putting them on Keqing’s things. It makes her happy so Diluc is going to ignore the very pressing issue with whether or not he should commit manslaughter. 

You know, that’s very valid. That’s how I feel about Kaeya’s relationship with Lisa or Albedo. People that don’t get riled up or annoyed by his antics the same way Amber is. I feel like if you’re looking for small talk, he’s not a bad choice, but if you want those deep 3am conversations he’s definitely the person to go to. Zhongli isn’t a bad choice either but Zhongli tends to go into historical and philosophical moments (which isn’t bad) but you want to have someone relate to you or it feels like an actual conversation and not a history lesson then he’s actually perfect. Especially more controversial topics, I feel like Kaeya would probably have very different opinions from the norm. 

YES. YES. YES I’m replying to these as I read them but YES. Honestly, I get it. Zhongli is a super polite and respectable person. But. But. Have you seen how he clowned on Childe?? That entire interaction?? He didn’t even look the slightest big apologetic for almost destroying Liyue and using the man who was going to kill him to pay for his funeral. What a power move?? And you’re telling me you don’t see him being a smug prick. I love Zhongli’s story quest where everyone is saying “oh the first mora was treasured or it holds mythical powers” and Zhongli is looking at them as if they’re idiots. 

tyty (❤´艸｀❤) I’m blessed to have you here. Oh, I hope you did well on your midterms tho and be sure to rest. I am a bit late to replying to this so hopefully I caught you before your break was over.

Always lovely hearing from you,

Pengu

[ka-za-ri]

Obey Me wants to do Too Much and in an attempt to please the fans, it’s failing them instead.

Based on the post @1abbie7​ made regarding the common complaints players seem to have with OM and its choices as a game. I just wanted to put my two (very long) cents in while looking at OM as if it is the gacha game it truly wishes it was.

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: this post is based on my experiences and is not a reflection of the community as a whole. These are observations and personal thoughts and should be taken with a grain of salt. Also, please feel free to discuss or correct me if I have any of the information wrong. For reference, I’ve reached 5-3 in OM!, 9-2 in AL, and 6-17 in AK.

Now that we have that out of the way… ON TO WHAT I WANT TO SAY. Buckle in folks, I’m rambly and I have a lot to say. Obey Me! Has a lot of potential, and it’s a shame that a lot of things Solmare does are not helping it grow in a way that it could.

So this post is MOSTLY going to be comparing Obey Me!’s (OM) gacha and gaming experience with Azur Lane (AL)  and Arknights (AK) since I feel like both those games have a very good f2p model and don’t really have any PvP/Ranking system that affects the main gameplay. I will have other examples from other games that I’ve played before as well.

Ignoring any issues with storytelling and plot holes, since I feel like there are people who are much more qualified to speak upon that than I am, I’m just going to look at the more game and gacha experience.

EVENT SPACING, GAMEPLAY, STAMINA REFRESHES:

OM! As far as I know, is marketed as an Otome game with gacha and … Rhythm??? Game??? Elements? (I’m not quite sure how to even describe the ‘battle’ stages tbh) to break up the story stages. With the battle stages being the main way you can farm for materials to power up your cards, the bottlenecks that are built into the game are surprisingly super frustrating.

OM! Does not have an auto battle option, but it does make up for it by allowing you to sweep the stage once you’ve received 3 stars. This does make resource farming much quicker, but this also means that your stamina will disappear faster than ice in a desert. Coupled with the fact that the battle stages don’t really have much interaction or strategy for a good portion of the beginning of the game, there’s no real replay value in trying for older stages unless they have the resource you want to farm.

I guess I can let this pass since interaction isn’t what’s really marketed, but it IS important to keep your audience logging in and eager to play. At Level 40-ish, my current stamina cap is around 70. WIth the average stamina cost of a regular stage being 5 AP, and the hard stages being 8. This means you’ve got 14 normal stages and less than 10 hard stages in a full bar of stamina. Assuming I log in twice a day to get the bonus AP, that’s really not a lot of stamina to work with and just enough to maybe get through my dailies. 

Having that little stamina makes farming resources exceptionally difficult especially for the high requirements needed once you get about half-way through a devil tree. Add that to dealing with farming event points almost constantly, with your limited stamina pool, you’re pretty much forced to purchase extra stamina to meet the requirements to finish said events to get the rewards. Assuming you spend all of your daily Devil Point reward on Stamina, that’s only 180 stamina a day which makes for a really tight run IF you’re aiming to get everything in an event. 

ADDITIONALLY, this is also the fact that events and new lessons don’t seem to be announced prior to them dropping. Almost every gacha  game I’ve played before will give you a few days notice before an event drops whether it be via Social media or through in-game mail. This is to mainly generate excitement and allows players some time to prepare, whether it be hoarding what stamina refreshes they have or saving premium currency for gachas to hopefully get the chase card/unit that they’re looking for. Not being able to prepare makes it difficult to stay engaged considering you CONSTANTLY have to have resources/stamina to partake in all the events and you can’t plan accordingly.

AK announcing the current event two days prior to it starting in game and on twitter:

AL’s announcement on the 12th, almost a week prior to it starting. Maintenance was on the 17th when the game reset.. (In game notices update regularly and I don’t have a screenshot of what it would look like since maintenance has already passed.)

OM! basically giving people on twitter about 24 hours notice of a new event dropping followed by announcing that the new lessons are available on the day it drops:

I understand that OM! Devs may want to keep the new cards a surprise to players. If stats and skills played a more prominent role in the game, maybe there would be a better way to tease these events to build up hype. As of right now though, it feels like a surprise slap in the face to force players to purchase currency in order to maintain that stamina requirement. IF Solmare is adamant about having back-to-back events, at least provide players with a roadmap or a calendar so they can pick and choose what’s important to them.

Just… Don’t let it become like the FEH calendar…

Please, do not let it become like this.

In my opinion, it feels like OM! Has a bit of an identity crisis. It sorely wants to bank on the money making powers of a gacha game while also clinging to the claim that they’re an otome game revolving around the plot. It’s hard to really promote the plot when it’s locked behind a power requirement that a majority of players will not be able to reach.

With how difficult it is at the end game, players are most likely going to look for transcripts or screenshots of new lessons instead of playing the main storyline in order to save what little they have for the constant limited events. Either give the players time to recoup resources to prepare for your events so they can pull for all your new cards or lower the difficulty cap to give players the story you’re emphasizing so much. 

Tl;dr: back-to-back events will burn out players and not announcing them prior does not allow players to prepare resources, forcing them to drop money on the game. The amount of stamina it takes to complete an event AND level your cards does not make it f2p friendly.

GACHA RATES AND PITY SYSTEM:

Call me spoiled, but I feel like OM! ‘S banner rates are too low. Consider the following image for the current banner pool:

That’s a combined 1% to get your UR and that’s still not going to be guaranteed to get what you want. Consider the following rates from other games:

Azur Lane:

(Ultra Rare was a new rarity that was added with this new banner. Before that the highest rarity you could pull is a Super Rare)

Arknights: 

Fire Emblem Heroes: 

Final Fantasy Brave Exvius: War of the Visions

For a game that’s always introducing new cards, you’d think that OM! Would maybe consider raising those rates so people won’t be so heartbroken when they don’t have enough currency for a 10 pull. (Especially if they have been spending what Devil Points they have on stamina to complete event stages) Yes, a majority of banners have bigger pools and  the chance for a specific 6*/UR/SSR is ultimately lower; but considering in OM!, you have stories and characterization locked behind devilgrams connected to these cards, the rates are pitifully low. At least in the other games listed, the units/cards/operators/ships aren’t tied to stories. 

I will say, the pity system isn’t absolutely abysmal. Keep in mind though, this is based on the assumption that you’ve saved up for 100 pulls. Considering how difficult it is to save that much currency while being f2p 100 pulls per banner is a tall order and impossible without the help of goldie or somethin. The frequency of new cards along with the difficulty obtaining gacha currency creates an extremely predatory model of currency purchase. With no guarantee of when event banners will be rerun, you’re pretty SOL if you make it half way through this pity system and you’re sitting on shards you can’t use. 

Players will get tired of this model mega fast. Especially with these kinds of rates. Assuming that your luck is the worst on earth, you need 2,700 Devil Points to reach the pity breaker. That’s more than two packs worth of Devil Points. So we’re looking at over $160.00 USD to get a guaranteed UR. Seeing as new banners come what feels like every two weeks or so, you’re looking at over $300.00 USD a month JUST for the gacha. If OM! Was purely a gacha game without such a heavy emphasis on the characters and the stories/scenarios they unlock, I might be able to overlook it. However, since the cards themselves unlock cheats for events and outfits and devilgram scenarios, that’s a steep price to pay, so I kinda just have to say… Yikes.

Tl;Dr: For a game that has so much content tied to limited cards and events, gacha rates for OM! Feel too low. Pity system is average as long as you have the currency to complete all 100 pulls. The reason to purchase premium currency is predatory and likely will not be sustainable in the long run. 

MONTHLY PACKS AND PREMIUM CURRENCY

So, we can agree that if you don’t have some cash on hand, it’s not going to be a real fun time to play OM! So, where do you spend your money? Let’s take a look at what they offer in terms of premium currency and how far that will get you. It’s also almost 3AM here and I’m losing my patience and filter, so excuse me if I sound more angry here than in the rest of the post.

So, here’s the basic Devil Point Shop for reference: 

If we equate Devil Points to stamina, you’re looking at about 100 stamina per dollar you spend. But let’s be real, Solmare makes their money off of gacha and them pretty pngs ‘cause y’all want those spicy devilgrams and sweet outfits for your secretary.

To even get a 10 pull, you’re looking at $22.00 USD worth of premium currency. (Why they didn’t make the $19.99 pack a full 10 pull is BEYOND me tbh.) Now most gacha players that I know who are willing to go all in on a specific banner will want to spend a pack, which means they’ll go for the most expensive option as it is the most bang for your buck. That’s an $80.00 pack for approximately 4 10 pulls and some change. Let’s compare that to the price of some Originite Prime from AK: 

It takes approximately 33 OP for one 10 pull in AK. 1 OP = 180 Orundum (currency used for gacha) Keeping this in mind,  if you don’t count the first time purchase bonus, at first glance, it’s overall more expensive to purchase this currency SOLELY for gacha purposes.

Here are the packs offered for AL: 

If you’re using gems to purchase the cubes needed for the gacha, it takes about 600 gems for 1 10 pull. One pack will net you about 8 10 pulls. Out of all the models we’ve looked at, this is honestly the most value for your dollar specifically for gacha purposes.

Take into consideration what the premium currency is used for. As stated above, 1 DP = 10 stamina. 1 OP = 1 Full stamina refresh in AK, so that’s a pretty equivalent exchange rate. (I won’t go into the AL stamina and gacha system since it differs too much from OM! To really make a good comparison.)

But, what else can DP do? A quick glance under the “Items” tab in the shop, you’ll see that it can also purchase Keys to read your devilgram stories (integral to your gaming experience), Demon Vouchers for summoning, Glow Sticks to help you in battle (Integral to gameplay), and consumables for your Surprise Guests to raise intimacy (arguably connected to gameplay). Compare this to what you can purchase with your OP outside of summoning currency in AK: Furniture (cosmetic) and Skins (Cosmetic). That’s it. 

What I’m trying to say here is that Solmare has made DP the currency for so many things that affect the game itself. This subtly pressures the players to purchase DP in order to maintain the same quality of life that they might have experienced at the beginning of their gaming experience when the level ups came fast and when the rewards were plentiful for completing all the beginners quests.

“But wait!” you say. There’s ways to earn DP passively through dailies! You’re right! You’re given 18 DP per day for completing your dailies. That equates to 1 10 pull per 2 weeks if you’re diligent in keeping up with all your quests and log in daily. Comparatively, AK will give you 2,800 orundum per week for completing all your quests and the weekly annihilation runs, so just short of 1 full 10 pull in the game. However, AK gives you the specific currency used exclusively for gacha. This leaves your OP relatively free to be used for stamina refreshes, or you can hoard them for when new skins come out, or you can use a few to supplement your missing orundum for a banner pull.

Without knowing what could be coming up next in terms of events and banners, OM! Makes it very difficult for you to hold onto your DP due to the sheer stamina sink that events can be. Unless you’re really good at optimizing your resources, you’re likely going to be spending DP on things outside of gacha, making it difficult to save those 20 pulls in a month.

Tl:dr: DP is used for too many things that aid in gameplay which leaves less for gacha, forcing players to make a choice between moving forward in harder story stages or unlocking card specific stories.

Alright, but let’s say you don’t have enough for packs, but you still want to support a game. You don’t wanna whale ‘cause you got bills to pay, but maybe you’ve got enough to be a minnow or a very sad and small dolphin. For this, most people turn to those delicious monthly packs. Usually, the monthly packs or subscriptions are really a good bang for your buck. Usually, the bonuses that these packs provide will add up to a value that is much more than your initial investment in them. So, let’s look at what OM!, AK and AL offer, shall we? 

Let’s break down what the VIP gives you since there’s quite a bit and it’s presented in a less condensed format. So, at first glance, I have to ask… “VIP login bonus?” What does that even mean? When you look at the details the description is as follows:

I’m sorry, what? This vagueness will not help sell this pack to me. Most monthly packs will give you premium currency right away that is equivalent to the amount that you paid. You can see that both AK and AL list this and also let you know exactly what else you get for the next 30 days. There’s no vagueness in what these packs provide. 

Next thing to look at:

I’m sorry. What? I don’t understand why a max AP increase is the choice for a VIP perk here. This is banking on the fact that you’re going to be playing at max efficiency and will be under max stamina in order to take advantage of the refill timer giving you the extra AP. Why OM! Doesn’t just give you the stamina in your mail is beyond my comprehension. This is just saying “yeah, you could have more stamina if you’re playing this game and making sure you’re below your cap. I … no. Just why.

NEXT PERK: 

No. This is useless for higher level players. Perks should benefit all players, not just your new players that you’ve tricked into spending money ‘cause this pack is only $9.99 a month. I’m so angry at this I don’t want to look at this anymore. NEXT.

This is a fine perk. Paying for easier passive resources is fine. I don’t have anything to say.. Next.

Oh thank fuck. An actual good perk. Passively getting the harder to get resources which cuts down on your already limited farming? Hell yeah.  Also fine in my book. NEXT. 

“Spend money to spend more money! Because we know this monthly deal ain’t shit!” is all I’m getting out of this.

Finally, I need to talk about this: 

So… you’re telling me that for $10.00, I’m going to get $6.00 worth of DP and I won’t get the full value unless I STAY subscribed? If I cancel and then resubscribe, will that go back to 60 DP when I subscribe later? Why would you do this other than to give your players less than what they deserve? These packs are supposed to be designed to give you the value of your purchase and some extras as incentive to keep playing and coming back to pay. This just… as a first impression leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

Also, let’s talk about the fact that you’re BILLED MONTHLY? Listen, I get that they’re trying to be ‘convenient’ so you can set this up and forget about it and reap the benefits, right? It’s about the same cost as a Netflix subscription, no big deal. But listen, that means they’re also banking on you to forget you even have this subscription if you’re a casual player and you’re going to continue to give them money Stop that Solmare. Bad.

I’m too tired to look at sales. Just as a quick glance. the discounts and deal are meh at best.

Tl:dr: Monthly pack is underwhelming and likely not worth it. Automatically being billed monthly is the worst thing I’ve seen all week and this was written in 2020. 

SOME SUGGESTIONS? IT’S NOT ALL BAD, I PROMISE.

So, how can Solmare improve? OM! Is honestly one of the most stylish otome games I’ve seen and has a lot of potential to continue growing its player base if the devs directed their energies in the right direction. Right now, OM! Suffers due to the fact that it’s trying to do too much in too little time. For a game that’s less than a year old, it’s pushed out enough content in the last three months to last six. Dialing back the gacha and collecting elements to focus on the story and a slower pace would really help, if you ask me. 

OM! Really needs to slow its roll. Events are losing their impact from being rolled out at such a quick pace on top of current pop quizzes, new lessons and banners. Every week I feel like I’m watching the more hardcore players yell at having too much to do when everything is layered on top of one another. This is not inherently a bad thing. Having a lot to do keeps the player base engaged and excited for your game.

The problem arises when you’re not giving your players any time to recover from events and just throw things at them all the time. Finding a good balance between events and downtime is difficult and it likely won’t happen overnight, but it would be nice to see them maybe give a week or two to really let the impact of events sink in and let players really find time to nurture or use the new cards/rewards they just got.

First step in the right direction would be giving more notice prior to events and lessons. Just something more than 24 hours before, or the day of. Not providing a notice makes it feel like these things are being rushed. 

If Solmare is adamant about keeping the pace it’s set up, then give us a roadmap or event calendar of when new lessons or pop quizzes are coming. They can keep the details of the lessons and quizzes limited until closer to the actual dates, but at least this will let players prioritize where they want to put their resources.

Gacha rates for URs being raised to 2% would likely make a reasonable difference. When so much story and cosmetic content is tied to a UR or SSR cards along with their frequency, it serves to likely benefit them to make it more accessible to players. Locking so much behind luck and a paywall makes it more obvious that they only care about the money that they can get from the diehard collectors in the game.

Make skins obtainable by DP. Stop locking them behind event cards. Allow players to have easier access to cosmetic features. It’s a less predatory model than what they’ve got right now. Granted, Lonely Devil has sort of helped this issue considering they’ve grouped event reruns all in one place to play at your leisure, and if I remember some of the event cards have skins tied to them. Still, just… idk sell the skin on its own. It makes more sense than to pray that you roll that UR with the one 10 pull you have. 

Make resources easier to obtain passively. I’m sure I sound like a broken record, but limited resources make this game difficult to enjoy. You’re barely through doing one thing to level up a card and you’re met with a giant wall of requirements for the next step. AL has commissions and the dorm, AK has the base. OM! Has Jobs, which gets you grimm and some items if you’re lucky, but it definitely needs expansion considering the power checkpoints late game.

Hell, just making some of those DP purchasable items actually farmable might help.

Get a publisher to work with you. I know Solmare has been around the block and this isn’t the first otome game they’ve made, but I definitely think working with a publisher who’s familiar with the ins and outs of a proper gacha helping them will benefit them. Having a publisher will help ensure that there’s adequate funding for the game to be as good as it can be. Not only that, you’re looking at a better social media presence which the player base can interact with and get more attached to.

 Literally, having a publisher could solve so many pacing and announcement issues since they would be in charge of when events come out and likely has a better eye on how players react. This way, Solmare can concentrate on making the content as quality as they can and not inundate people with a new lesson or event as soon as it’s done.

Tl:dr: Solmare, please get a proper publisher so they can help with quality control and balancing your game. Please. I’m begging you. You have so much going for you please don’t let this game die before it turns a year old.

Ok. it’s 4 AM and I spent most of the day writing this post. If you’ve made it this far, congrats and I’m sorry for being so rambly. I’m so sorry if none of this made any sense in the end.  I’m sure there are points that I’ve missed out on like stage replayability and a more engaging battle mode, and the lack of any sort of meta which makes the lower rarity cards you pull feel completely useless…  but uh… I can’t think anymore and I haven’t had time to farm in my horny ship girl game. Feel free to let me know your thoughts or discuss! 

Thanks for your time and I hope y’all have a good day. Happy romancing some demon boys!

[realcube]

the heart || kei tsukishima x reader

 summary: modern au! you and tsukishima are supposed to dissect a lamb heart in biology but it doesn’t go to plan

tw// cussing, the dissection of a lamb heart, blood, biology 🤢

my excuse: this is based on a true story and i wrote it at like 3am - read at your own expense. this is probably the worst piece i’ve every written.

“Geez, why are you complaining? You literally just play Cool Maths Games during every period of Biology and now that we actually have to do something you become a whiny bitch.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue, slipping his phone back into his pocket while adjusting his headphones so they hung around his neck, rather than having to take them off because they were apart of his look at this point.

You tossed your head back upon hearing the news that you’d actually have to do something in class for a change, “Exactly! Biology is supposed to be the one class where I am not bombarded with work. Just last period, I drew at least fifty stupid fucking graphs! For what? To find x? To hell with your x !” You cried, running a hand through your hair to make sure you didn’t mess it up because you spent way too long straightening it this morning for a swift movement of your neck to mess it all up. 

Tsukishima sighed, hesitantly rubbing your back as you genuinely seemed quite stressed, “It’ll be fine, and it’s not like we’re learning anything new. We have already studied the heart, I think it was last year; we’re only doing the experiment now because we couldn’t to do it last year for some reason.” Tsukishima mumbled, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he noticed that he was doing a decent job of reassuring you as your hair was no long standing on its ends. 

“Plus,” He said, flicking his pencil with his fingers, “This’ll be cool! The heart is quite an interesting organ, it’ll be fun to actually get hands-on and see the chambers and valves up close, don’t you think?” He added, seeming a bit too enthusiastic about dissecting a lamb heart - it was kinda creepy.

After you finished loudly judging him, you pulled out your phone from your pocket and absently went to snapchat, to send your streaks. “Yeah, whatever. Get in ‘ere with me Tsukishima, will you?” It was hardly a request as before he even had time to process what you had just asked him, you had taken a selfie of you and him with the indie filter, wrote ‘streaks’ on it and sent it to your whole best friend’s list. 

It took him a moment to react to what you just did but when he noticed you typing away to your friend, he let out a breathy sigh. Usually, he’d be fuming by your action but he had to admit, he looked pretty good in that picture - especially because he barely had any nice candid photos of himself. “Send that to me - but without the stupid caption.” Was all he could be bothered to utter.

You hummed in agreement, “Will do.” You replied, immediately finding the photo in your saved pictures and scrolling down your friends list until you found Tsukishima; he wasn’t too low down since you recently asked him for the answers to the Maths homework - he said no, of course, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m feeling kinda bummed so y’know what I am gonna do?” You spoke and without giving Tsukishima a moment to respond, you answered your own question. “Check your Snapchat username, it always makes him laugh.”

Tsukishima’s blood ran cold and his eyes widened at the mention of his username on Snapchat, “(Y/N). Do not--”

“Dinoguykei!” You exclaimed rather loudly, tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes as you cackled upon repeating his username to yourself - absolute gold.

“I was, like, 11 when I made it! Give me a break.” He spat, sticking out his bottom lip momentarily before pulling his headphones back over his head to clasp his ears so he no longer had to listen to your ‘annoying-ass laugh’, as he called it. There was clearly no music playing from his headphones and he acted as if he couldn’t hear you when he had them on despite the fact that they were clearly not noise-cancelling - this was a move he pulled often which you liked to call ‘blocking out the a haters’ as he would do that exact thing whenever you said something to displease him..

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow, flicking his fake-ass SOMY headphones but since they were made of wurtzite boron nitride or something like that, they hit you right back, resulting in your hissing and quickly pulling your hand away. “Do you think that your crusty, dollar store headphones can prevent my noise from reaching your ears? I think the fuck not.” 

“I-”

“If you want me to buy you new ones, just ask. How much were they? Or are they hend-me-downs?” You inquired without missing a beat, it wasn’t often that you managed to tease Tsukishima which such flow consecutively so you were obviously going to make to most of this opportunity while you had it.

“They are from the dollar store but I didn’t buy them.” Tsukishima mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, he lowered his head and desperately tried to resist the sly grin which tugged at the corners of his lips as all the memories came flooding back to him. “You were there, weren’t you?” 

“No.” You replied simply but immediately realising what Tsukishima was talking about and leaning in closer to him, “Is Tsukki a criminal?” You sung while wiggling your eyebrow playfully at him. 

Tsukishima scoffed, once again lowering his headphones from his ears back down to his neck. “As if you aren’t, with all the stuff you stole from the supermarket.” He hissed while trying not to laugh as he recalled the time you tried to sneak out passed security by shoving food under your shirt so you looked pregnant - and they fucking fell for it! Or  maybe they were just too lazy to bother calling you out, either way you got away with it though. “And this is what you said before bolting out of Forever21 with sunglasses in your bra - verbatim: ‘If it is a chain, it’s free rein.’.” 

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye as you heard those words leave Tsukishima’s mouth, “Beautiful-” You mused, about to go on to tell him about the other economic benefits of stealing from large corporations until he cut you off to correct you as always.

“So, you were wrong. These headphones were not a dollar, they were free.” 

Of course, Tsukishima never talks to you without the intend of either insulting you or proving your wrong in some way/argue with you. So why would this be any exception?

“Anyway,” Tsukishima began, his gaze shifting around the room rapidly in search of the biology teacher, “Where is that bitch? I’m ready to dissect the fuck out of that lamb heart if he just gets his ass over here immediately. He always does this.” Tsukishima huffed as this was far from the first time he had been let down by the biology teacher, as well as all of his classmates.

In fact, the whole class had basically mutually agreed that the biology teacher was shit as almost everyone in the class was failing due to his horrible teaching - or lack there of. Tsukishima was the only one passing because he had a tutor but he was still averaging 60% - a C - which was way too low for his liking. 

Also, the biology teacher had a habit of making false promises - for instance, there was that one time he said the class could use whiteboards to create model cells so he rushed out the room to ‘go get the whiteboards’ and didn’t come back. Instead of getting the whiteboards, there was a rumour going around the school that - with the assistance a foreign language teacher - he conducted a different kind of biological experiment in the janitor’s cupboard. 

Be that as it may, all my homies hated the biology teacher..until today, when he actually pulled through with the goods.

He came marching into the class holding a pale bag filled with a dark, red substance and quickly placed it on his desk. “Right, troops. Get yourself a partner, come ‘ere and grab a lamb heart then remove the tricuspid valve for me, will ya?” He panted, rubbing his forehead and bringing attention to his bright red face. He was seemingly out of breath yet nobody has ever seen him run before; was he that tired from walking to the storage cupboard and back?

“Sir, do we dissect it with out hands or?”

The teacher shrugged, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder before rushing out of the room. “I don’t know, sure? Or maybe use a spatula or something. Right, BRB, guys.” Just like that, he was gone. Probably to go rail Tsukishima’ foreign language teacher in the privacy of his own home or something. ‘Ew.’ Tsukki shuddered at the thought. 

“I’ll go get us a heart.” He said, getting up from his chair and about to make his way over to the teacher’s desk until you giggled, asking, “Who said I wanted to partner up with you?” 

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, checking the time on his phone and spoke without averting his gaze from the path in front of him, “You’ve not got much of a choice.” With that, he slinked off to the front of the class to grab a heart and hopefully a spatula too. 

Your mouth was left agape at his comment, mostly because you were unable to decipher what he meant by that; curse his naturally sarcastic-sounding tone! Perhaps that was his way of trying to hit on you by saying he wouldn’t allow you to partner up with anybody else - or it could be a jab at the fact everyone in this class hates you for one reason or another.

“Some knob took the last spatula so I guess you’re using your hands.” He grumbled, dumping the heart which was packed in a thin, clear plastic bag onto your desk. Crossing his arms over his chest before sitting back down at his own table, pulling out his phone and about to start playing some music until you realised what he was trying to do and instinctively flicked his arm.

“What?” He hissed, jerking his head around to shoot you a deadly glare. You stuck your bottom lip out to form a pout but then you remembered that he finds your pouty face funny and right now you were trying to be intimidating so you quickly switched to a scowl. “You’re the one who wanted to dissect the stupid thing, you do it!” You roared, slamming the lamb heart onto his desk then leaned back in your chair, folding you arms over your chest in a bad-tempered manor.

Tsukishima’s expression softened slightly as he looked over, doing his best to stifle a chuckle at how silly you looked with a scowl on your face - like grumpy cat, in a way. “Why are you so mad?” He asked monotonously, shifting his gaze onto the heart on his desk, hesitantly reaching out to unzip the plastic bag which it was packed inside. 

You shrugged your shoulders, biting your lip as you looked down at your hands, shocked at how white your knuckles had become from holding a fist for so long. “My bad, Tsukki.” You said in a low voice, embarrassed at how his simple actions had pissed you off so much. “I guess I am just kinda frustrated with this whole class - mostly the teacher. I mean, we’re literally all doing horribly and instead of helping he just gives us a fucking lamb heart to dissect like what good does that--”

Suddenly, you felt something cold and slimy splat against your elbow, leading to a small gasp escaping your mouth as you instinctively whipped your head over to see what it was - however, as soon as you laid your eyes on it, you wished that you hadn’t. 

A high-pitched shriek left your mouth, immediately gaining the attention of almost the whole class but once the turned heads realised how uneventful the situation actually was, they went back to what they were doing prior to your scream. 

Tsukishima winced slightly in reaction to the shrill sound that left your mouth - “Oh, shut up.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at your - in his opinion - melodramatic reaction. “It’s just a bit of lamb heart; here, I’ll get it off for you.”

As soon as you realised what you had just done and the reaction it had evoked, you slapped your spare hand over your mouth but without averting your gaze from the god-forsaken piece of meat which clung committedly to your forearm. “Tsukki.” You tried to sound angry but the fear was still clear in your voice, “Why would you do that?” Although you hadn’t seen him do the deed, you were almost 100% this was the work of him flicking the wretched lamb muscle onto your arm - this theory was reinforced by the fact the plastic bag was lying wide open on his desk.

Tsukishima laughed, leaning over to pick the bit of heart off of your arm then proceeded to flick it away to some other poor soul’s desk. “There we go. Happy now?” 

You growled - something your friend had taught you to do whenever you were mad - shooting daggers at the lanky megane sitting in front of you while he wore a sly grin which just made you want to punch him right on the nose. “What the fuck was that for?” You snarled, “You know how much I hate blood.”

Tsukishima wheezed, he genuinely couldn’t tell if you were being serious or not, “Then what are you doing in a biology class?” His question was barely audible through his gasps for as well as the sound of him slapping him knee.

You clicked your tongue, wiping the excess lamb juice off of your arm, “Joking.” You droned, turning to eye the heart on his desk. “Go on, dissect the thing.”

[1dcraftawards]

November Author of the Month...

Drumroll please.... our November Author of the Month is none other than the incredibly talented...

@all-things-fic ! 

Congratulations to a wonderful author, Liz! You can check out our interview with her below!

1.Did you start writing fanfiction for One Direction, or was there another fandom that you wrote fanfiction for before this?

I have one fic that I wrote for One Direction Fanfic Archive, that will never see the light of day. It was really awful, but everyone starts somewhere. I’ve shared it with two people on Tumblr and we just laughed about it.

I’ve also written a Niall Horan fic which has been flagged for how explicit it is, which is quite laughable as it’s tame in comparison to the Harry stuff (eek!)

2. How old were you when you started writing fanfiction?

I was a teenager when I first started writing fics. I don’t know if I would consider it “proper” fanfic though as it was riddled with cliches.

3. What’s been your favorite fic that you’ve written to work on so far?

For the longest time I was proud of the second part of Divorce Harry and specifically the second part. It just felt real to write. I can’t even explain what it is about that piece.

I think at the time it stemmed from an ask I received where I was asked if I was a parent - I’m not - but this someone said I portrayed aspects of a marriage and how children can tip the balance really well.

The sheer bitterness of two people in love and the juxtaposed feeling it brings was an interesting dynamic. Being bitter and in love? How? It happens. You love someone, but bloody hell don’t you hate at the same time.

And I think on the hand Quarantine Harry is the opposite side of the same coin. I love it because it’s so happy. When you’re smitten and basking. Your baby waking you up at 3am and meeting your husband on the landing with the freshly made bottle is a time to enjoy because you’re doing it together.

But soon enough the third child is sprawled out in your kingsize bed and their foot is pressed against your ribs and you're tired. This isn’t me saying the two stories are linked (I do get those theories quite a lot haha)

4. Do you prefer AU or OU?

Definitely more of an OU gal. I’m massively into writing things “realistically” because I think it’s so relatable and helps draw readers in more so. Especially if the writing uses and references visuals that readers are aware of.

5. What’s your favorite trope to write?

Would we call a long-term relationship / established relationship a trope? If so then this is my favourite. Writing characters who know how to push each other’s buttons, knowing what they can and can’t say to get the other going. Being able to write two people who can share as little as a glance and know what the other is feeling.

Sprinkle a bit of angst on the top for good measure.

That’s my kryptonite.

6. What’s your ideal space to write in?

I tend to write when I’m in bed quite a bit, usually really late at night and on my phone rather than my laptop. Often lying in the dark. Sometimes first thing in a morning.

7. How do you get motivation to write?

This one made me laugh considering I’m unable to finish a single piece of writing at the minute.

Pictures are quite inspiring. New images of Harry can usually start something in me. The images of him in the whacky joggers for example from set have inspired a scene in Quarantine Harry (who knows for which part just yet!).

8. Do you typically like to listen to music when you write? If so, what do you listen to?

Very rarely listen to anything when I write, I tend to like silence really. Sometimes this is so I can dictate into my phone.

9. Your dialogue is some of the best I’ve ever read on tumblr, how do you plan conversations in your fics?

Thank you for the compliment, it’s really nice to read that you think so highly of my dialogue. I don’t really plan them - conversations or my fics. I’m quite visual in how I write, so anything that you’ve read I’ve most likely had it play out in my mind and typed it as it’s moved. For dialogue I tend to speak out loud as I’m typing to try and get the pacing right for the conversation.

No, I don’t try to do a Manc accent… Just in case anyone is wondering haha!

10. What is your writing process like?

I write what I see and then hope it fits. Honestly it’s pretty chaotic. The only time I tend to plan is when I’ve got a lot of different scenes written and I need to know if they’re suitable for an update or what order to place them.

Then I read through them and think about the characters and how they would be a certain time and move the documents into another document. Then I close all the tabs and cry cause my motivation is nonexistent.

11. What’s been your favorite scene to write from Quarantine Harry?

One that hasn’t been shared haha! I’m joking (maybe).

From part one my favourite bit has to be the part where she makes up with him by taking him a cuppa and he gets a dig in about how she hasn’t brought any biscuits with her. Also the bit where he says “come an’ love me” meaning he wants to cuddle. I’m quite conscious I don’t really ever write soppy fics, so when I’m writing “fluffy” aspects they’re more so everyday affections. Like, you know someone is properly in love with you when they’re doing the washing up cause you’re busy, or they’re taking out the bins on bin day. That kinda thing.

From part two absolutely the entirety of the morning where she takes the pregnancy test. That was the part I had as clear as day and I worked backwards to the opening scene. I really loved the idea of Harry knowing his partner is pregnant before said partner knows. Him knowing his lovers body like the back of his hand so much so that he’s able to pick up on the smallest of things.  I knew I had to write it.

And how he casually suggested she took the test, by pressing a kiss into her back. His face finding that test and then being an insufferable sod and pleased with himself cause he’s in the know about the outcome before the MC.

12. Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can?

So impulsive it’s actually embarrassing. I cringe at myself. I know I’ve mentioned this loads but I really write what I see. So if I’m not seeing anything, I’m not writing. It’s quite frustrating.

13. What is one thing you wish you would’ve known before you started writing?

To not talk about your writing before you’ve finished it. I feel like I massively let people down when I post sneak peeks and then I can’t deliver because life gets on top of me!

14. What do you prefer writing, multi-chaptered fics or one shots?

One shots and then if they develop into something more that can be exciting!

15. What's your secret to portraying such a complex and interesting relationship between your main characters??

Personal trauma…… *tumbleweed at another one of my poorly thought out jokes*

I’m a bit stumped on how to answer this one. I think being well read(ish) helps you create complex characters and relationships, not saying that I am but I’ve read a fair few books. Life in general helps too, sometimes personal relationships. Just growing up. My fic when I was younger was nowhere near the type of things I’m writing now but I’ve got a couple (okay, more than a couple!) of years on myself since then.

I think just apply your own lived experiences and call upon emotions you may have felt through certain times that you’re writing should you have experience it.

Partly I also think so many of us are a little bit nosy. Sometimes we all kinda want to be the fly on the wall in the home of couples to see if everything is a rosy as it seems or as intimate. Or whether it is just raw passion with a couple of arguments thrown in for good measure.

16. What Harry era/mood/look/vibe/song/etc. do you get most inspired by?

What’s weird is my favourite era of Harry is 2014, but I wouldn’t want to write him like that. The current Harry is quite marvellous. I’ve never known anyone like him, he really is fine wine (the real album title…. ‘we’ll be a fine wine’)

If you’re asking what mood I like to see him in, it’s either when he's pensive and looks a touch pissed off with a crease to his brow or when you watch his joke his eyes before he’s even said it and he’s amused/pleased with himself.

His current look, mainly late 2019/2020 is quite something (hence the quarantine fics)

I tend not to get inspired by his songs but my two faves if I had to pick would be Woman and TBSL. I think they’re massive Scorpio energy and would make great premises for a one shot sometime!

I’m not sure if I even answered this how you wanted it answer but hopefully it was something haha!

17. Who or what inspired you to start writing?

I’ve always loved writing, I think it’s because I do a lot of it with my line of work. The person that gave me the push on this site was actually an account called @meetyourmouths. The lovely Iz is no longer on tumblr but she wrote a Harry piece that just made me think ‘fuck it’ and I posted Practicing. If you go to that piece the authors note makes mention to Iz.

I would also say @stylishmuser was one of the first people to reach out to me and be encouraging which has always stuck with me. Massive love for, P and still talk to her all these years on.

I’m now sat here thinking about listing all the lovely lovely people who have been so nice to me both in regards to writing and outside of it and I’m conscious I’m not mentioning them. The troubles of being a bit of a people pleaser. Hopefully those people know I love ‘em… You know?

18. Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

First thing I’d say is please don’t ever think as readers you can’t be negative. Sure there is a way to present the feedback to the author cause writing can be quite personal, but everyone has room for growth.

Just come chat to me. Can be about anything and everything. A simple ‘loved the update’ to ‘this bit was rubbish’. I’m open to all feedback.

One thing to remember is there are a lot of writers out there so there is something for everybody. If a fic isn’t for you there are tons out there waiting for you to go and grab ‘em!

19. Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction?

I used to think it was mainly more so a hobby, and I do still lean towards this. However, now I’m not so sure. My problem is I tend to have long spells of not being able to find balance in my ‘real life’ job and the extra-curricular stuff.

I’m dragging myself here but I don’t think my fics have much plot to them. I’m more so about writing the everyday life and I don’t think there is a market for that really (unless you have something explosive happen somewhere).

20. And finally, What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish?

For a while I wanted to write Harry being insufferably British. I found it quite hard to find writings that I thought wrote him using Britsh-isms (is this even a thing?) and types of phrases that are common over this side of the pond. I wanted to put that out there for someone who may have once felt like me.

Mostly,  I just want to put pieces out that take people elsewhere, even if only for a couple of minutes. A lot of the world is a bleak place, if you find my little corner on tumblr and it makes you smile, that’s achieved something, hasn't it?

[nevertherose]

One Hundred Seconds to Midnight: Chapters 1-8

"All Roman wanted to do was take Logan on a Doctor Who LARP within the Imagination.

But with Thomas's Sides at their figurative breaking point after the disastrous wedding, the Imagination may just have a few ideas of her own..."

Hello, Tumblr fanders, it has been a while since I've poked around in here...mostly because, I've been writing another story!

Do you like Sanders Sides? Do you like Doctor Who? Do you like the idea of the Sides playing Doctor Who characters? If so, this story was written especially for you.

I found that the process of cross-posting Mahogany and Teakwood across three platforms, one chapter at a time, involved a lot of me spending too many hours squinting at html code. Not especially fun. This time around, I've only been posting on AO3 and Wattpad.

But I wanted it to exist here as well.

So! Today I'm going to post the first half (in two posts, because apparently Tumblr has a post size limit, who knew?), all the chapters that are up so far. Then, when the whole story is up on the other platforms, I'll post the other half.

Of course, you could head to either AO3 or Wattpad, if you want to read as the chapters go up.

But if you're like me, and like to read stories in nice, big, juicy chunks...here you go:

One Hundred Seconds to Midnight

Chapter 1- The Eleventh Hour

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.”

Midnight.

The witching hour.

Or was that 3AM? Roman wondered. No, that’s the devil’s hour…damn it, Virgil! You had to get them all mixed up!

It was nearly midnight on the Imagination’s border.

Moonlight, pearlescent and brighter than it could ever shine in the real world, streamed feather-light through the tall windows on Roman’s side of the Dream Palace. It made patterns of light and shadow over the black marble floors, made nighttime caricatures of the white ivory statues that lined the corridor.

Roman’s heeled boots echoed in the silence; Logan’s dress shoes, in comparison, were whisper-quiet.

Logan himself had been uncharacteristically quiet since they entered this place, Roman noted, glancing back. Normally by now the logical Side would have asked a million questions, made a million plans, or be several bullet points into a lecture about palace construction or the history of measurement units or some other nerdy, obscure subject.

And Roman would either pretend to be annoyed, or would interject witty counterpoints to make Logan stop and bluster and…

But not tonight.

Maybe he’s nervous about being here, Roman told himself, smoothing a hand over his red sash. He’s only pointed out a million times that Logic and the Imagination are anathema to one another. Maybe I should have planned something else…

Or maybe he’s just annoyed at you for dragging him out of bed in the literal middle of the night, a more insidious inner voice whispered. When you know he likes to keep a consistent sleep schedule.

Roman pressed his lips together, lifted his chin…he might be a mere facet of a single personality, but he was also a Prince, and Princes do not listen to inner demons. However, he also looked back for the dozenth time to make sure Logan was actually still following.

That was the only reason Roman kept looking back.

It had nothing to do with the way the translucent moonlight caught the other Side’s dark, immaculately kept hair, or glinted off his glasses.

In the real world, of course, and whenever they manifested near their Source, the Sides all had precisely the same face and body as Thomas. But deep inside the mind, where physical appearance was an illusion anyway, the Sides exercised much more control.

Thomas remained their base template, but each Side also tended to portray himself with features that Thomas associated with their core function. Like Patton’s fluffy curls and childlike freckles, or Virgil’s anxious, ever-changing eyeshadow, or Remus’s abominable comic-book villain mustache.

Like Deceit’s…no, Janus’s very real scales.

Damn that snake. Why did I have think of him now?

Hopefully the lying bananaconda had better things to do than pop up and spoil things tonight. Because tonight, Roman was finally fulfilling a longtime promise to Logan, and taking him on a grand adventure.

The thought made his heart flutter in anticipation, and he looked back again.

Logan within the mindscape was leaner than Thomas, an inch or two taller, and his neatly trimmed hair and intelligent eyes were almost black in the low light. His face was narrow and intense, the nose more aquiline, and he had a habit of standing straighter than any of the rest of them.

(A habit which constantly showed off his trim waist and chest muscles…not that Roman paid any attention to that…)

Roman, by contrast, was a bit shorter, but his shoulders were broad and he was more muscular, due to all the questing and sword fighting he did here in the Imagination. He wore his hair in longish disarray that paired devastatingly with his clean, square jawline; hair that could be turned loose and wild on quests, or pulled neatly back as befitted royalty. His hands were strong; with long, artistic fingers, as skilled at wielding pens and paintbrushes as they were at wielding swords.

He liked to think he was handsome.

He was also painfully aware of how little it mattered when a certain someone…ehem…never seemed to notice.

“Roman, I confess to still being a bit lost as to the purpose of this journey,” Logan said at last, breaking the high-ceilinged silence. “You said you were taking us on a…’lark’? If so, why are we wandering around the Dream Palace?”

“LARP,” Roman corrected, flashing him a smile. “L-A-R-P. It stands for live action role play, Specs.”

Logan’s nose wrinkled at the words “role play”, and Roman’s stomach lurched. He hates it, he hates the very idea of it, you haven’t even started yet and you’ve already failed…

“Oh, don’t make the scrunchy face!” he added, a bit louder than necessary, and waved a hand. “At least wait until you’ve seen it.”

Roman had only been planning this for weeks.

“You know, when you promised to take me on one of your ‘adventures’,” Logan said, making finger quotes. “I was not expecting to be roused from bed in the middle of the night.”

“That’s because this isn’t your average adventure.” Roman gestured around them. “I constructed a special dreamscape to get all the details right, and we can only use the Dream Palace when Thomas is asleep.” He turned and dared a wink. “Only the best for you, my detail-oriented friend.”

Logan adjusted his glasses.

“Let it be known that I am indulging your antics right now because you have, on occasion, had some good ideas. You will, in turn, have to indulge my skepticism.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I’m gonna pretend it was a compliment,” Roman said with a wink, which Logan rolled his eyes at.

“Ah ha, here we are!”

Roman stopped at a set of iconic blue doors, nearly vibrating in excitement as he waited for Logan to recognize them.

The nerd did not disappoint.

“Roman…” Logan murmured, stepping forward to touch the white PULL TO OPEN sign. “They look just like the doors to the TARDIS. The attention to detail is exquisite. But why?”

“Because I’m taking you on a Doctor Who LARP!” Roman exclaimed, flapping his hands. “All we have to do is step through, and the Imagination will make us Doctor and companion, and whisk us away through all of time and space!”

Logan’s face was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “Again…why?”

“Because it will be fun?” Roman bit his lip, looking at his toes. “I…I know you aren’t into swords and sorcery and dragon-witches and whatnot. I wanted this to be something you might actually enjoy.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, as it often did when he tried to process something that didn’t fit neatly into his graphed, notated, logical worldview.

Usually, it was an emotion.

“But won’t us enacting such an intense scenario at this time of night negatively affect Thomas’s sleep?” Logan asked.

“That’s the genius of adventuring in the Dream Palace,” Roman explained. “You can do hyperreal, immersive stuff, and if Thomas does happen to remember anything, he’ll just think he had a weird dream. The worst that could happen is he might post about it on Twitter.”

“Hmm. I can see you’ve thought this through. I am…flattered that you went to all the trouble,” Logan said in a quiet voice.

Roman had to bite back an ecstatic giggle.

Not…not because of the way his nerves skittered below his skin when his gaze caught Logan’s black eyes and soft expression. No, Roman was merely…excited! That someone like Logan appreciated his hard work!

It wasn’t like he was trying to impress anyone, like some middle school boy with, you know, a crush or whatever. For the last, well…two years.

…and then some.

Ugh. There was little point in denying his feelings; he’d only accidentally summon Janus and his oily smirk, and if that happened, Roman would most certainly die of embarrassment and that was not a lie, thank you very much.

The truth was, ever since Thomas had placed that jar of Crofters into Logan’s hands and inspired him to sing…not just rap, or begrudgingly harmonize, but actually sing…Roman had fallen, and fallen hard.

How could he not?

Logan’s words and ideas had always challenged him, pushed him to be smarter, sharper, better, just to keep up. Logan was the grounding anchor to his sails, the clarity to his excess. It used to infuriate Roman, the way he and Logan always came at problems from opposite sides and fought, sometimes bitterly, over the best way to meet in the middle.

But now?

Now Roman relished the way they traded words in a good fight, like blades in the hands of expert swordsmen. Logan, despite his dislike for anything fanciful, was a natural wordsmith…and Roman was a great lover of poetry. Even better, it seemed like Logan was also starting to enjoy their verbal sparring matches…

And then these last few months had happened.

The Decision, and Deceit, and the way that snake had let Remus out of the shadows to wreck havoc, and then the disastrous wedding itself…and Roman knew that Logan, through all of it, had been feeling pushed aside.

Goodness knew the logical Side hadn’t deserved to be shoved to the back of a courtroom, or relegated to a pixel-y shadow of himself before being removed from the discussion entirely. Worse, in both of those scenarios, Roman had either done nothing…or actively made things worse.

Roman knew he was guilty of letting his mouth run wild in his zeal to solve Thomas’s dilemmas…or in desperately hiding his true feelings. He knew his nicknames often came with barbs, his insults sometimes hit too close to home, that he often ignored or dismissed Logan’s cool, much-needed perspective.

He knew he needed to be better.

I’ll make it up to him tonight, Roman told himself as he laid a hand on the rough wooden blue doors and glanced back at Logan. The logical Side nodded, giving Roman a tiny burst of confidence.

He’ll get to play his favorite character and be his best nerdy self. This is going to be great!

Roman took a breath, and shoved open the TARDIS doors.

Chapter 2- Human Nature

“It’s all becoming clear now. The Doctor is doing the things you’d like to be doing.”

The blaring of a dozen sirens burst in Logan’s ears.

He was yanked across the threshold, Roman’s hand practically a vice around his wrist. Logan inhaled the sharp scent of metal and warm electronics, and a million figurative lights went off in his brain.

Being the physical incarnation of Logic, this wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation.

The TARDIS shuddered…wait, TARDIS? We’re actually on the TARDIS?…under impact. Lights flashed; reds and greens over an ambiance of steely blue-gray, and Logan knew exactly what to do.

He shook free of Roman’s grip and strode to the center console…console, how do I know this is a console?…flipping several switches and turning the green dial to precisely 3.56 degrees to offset the radiation sheer from the M-class star they’d just spun past.

Because naturally they happened to be careening through an asteroid field.

The time rotor rose and dipped, Gallifreyan symbols whirling overhead; Logan adjusted shields and dodged rocks, striding confidently from station to station. He guided his TARDIS around the last large asteroid, one that easily could have smashed his beloved ship to bits, and then they were clear.

The TARDIS chimed reassuringly under his hands, relieved to be in empty space again.

Roman screamed.

The sound echoed off the metallic walls, causing Logan to whip around and nearly lose his balance.

“What happened?” he said sharply, leaving the console. The creative Side stood near the railing, staring down at himself in obvious dismay. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at me, Logan!” Roman said shrilly and gesturing at his body. “Just look!”

Logan examined his fellow Side. There were no obvious injuries he could see, no blood, no bruising, nothing that would merit a scream. There was just Roman, unfairly handsome as always.

(He still wasn’t sure how Roman managed that feat when they all literally, at least some of the time, had the same face.)

“I…don’t see a problem?” Logan asked slowly.

“I meant, look at what I’m wearing, Calculator Watch,” Roman snarled, and turned to yell nonsensically at the ceiling. “Am I a joke to you? When I said I wanted to be a companion, this is not what I meant!”

Logan focused on Roman’s clothing, which had shifted rather drastically since passing through those doors. His normal princely attire was replaced by a denim cutoff skirt, overalls, pink leggings, and a tight pink blouse that clung to his muscular chest and arms...

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Roman murmured, scuffing a combat boot against the metal grated floor. The motion drew Logan’s gaze again to the way the cutoffs hugged his hips and wow, that skirt was really short, wasn’t it?

And those tights, the way they accentuated Roman’s legs...

Logan frowned, his face feeling unusually warm. Why did he keep noticing these things? Of course Roman was more fit than the rest of them.

Perhaps it was simply that Logan didn’t usually see the evidence of it so…plainly.

Stop, Logan told himself sharply. You might be gay and allosexual, but that is no excuse to be disrespectful.

He cleared his throat.

“If I may, Roman?” he said, approaching, and made a closer examination of Roman’s outfit.

“I gather from your earlier ranting that you instructed the Imagination to cast you as one of the Doctor’s companions for the duration of this scenario?”

“Well, yeah,” Roman admitted, “but I was thinking someone like Jamie McCrimmon, or Rory Williams, or maybe even Jack Harkness!”

“You know there is some debate over whether Jack Harkness would be considered a proper ‘companion’, as he was never full time on the TARDIS,” Logan argued absently, still eying Roman’s ensemble.

It was attractive but also familiar; he just couldn’t quite place it…

“Neither was Clara Oswald at first, but nobody had a problem handing her that label from the start!” Roman folded his arms and Logan had to look away because wow, short sleeves and arms…

“Just because she was a girl and the writers obviously intended for her to be a love interest—”

“A girl, of course!” Logan snapped his fingers. “Roman, you are a companion. Specifically, you are Rose Tyler.”

“What?” Roman frowned, smoothing the overalls across his middle. “I…Hmm. You might actually be right.”

“Of course I am right.”

The creative Side scoffed at that, but continued to frown.

“I think it’s a good choice,” Logan added. “Rose is arguably one of the most beloved companions in new Who; bold, kind, and intelligent in her own way. She was pivotal to the Ninth, Tenth, and arguably the War Doctor’s character arcs.”

He laid a hand on Roman’s shoulder. (To convey reassurance, of course. Not because he suddenly wanted to touch…)

“Hers are not the worst shoes you could be given to fill,” Logan said, “idiomatically speaking.”

“Only you would drop a word like ‘idiomatically’ in everyday conversation,” Roman grumbled, but some of the spark returned to his caramel eyes.

“But look at you!” Roman said in a brighter voice, gesturing. “All proper and Doctor-ish. At least the Imagination let you keep your tie, or, whatever that thing is around your neck.”

Logan glanced down at himself for the first time.

His sensible polo and jeans had become a clean-cut black suit, with a warm grey waistcoat, a crisp white undershirt, and a silver pocket watch. A navy cravat was knotted around his throat.

His knee-length suit jacket was also black, with a striking cerulean lining.

He retrieved a slender, metallic something from the jacket’s inner pocket: of course, the Doctor’s signature sonic screwdriver. Specifically, the Tenth Doctor’s screwdriver.

Logan chuckled, remembering all the times he’d ranted to Roman about how impractical and flashy Eleven’s screwdriver became, and don’t even get him started on Twelve’s, it was practically a lightsaber…

“Interesting,” he murmured, stretching his arms to turn in a slow circle, letting the jacket flare. “Fashionably, I appear to be a cross between the Eighth and Twelfth Doctors, which I appreciate, as they are the two most sensible dressers of the bunch. And by the way, Roman, this is a called a cravat, not a tie…”

He’d lifted hands to his neck but the words died on his tongue.

Roman had summoned a mirror and was, quite literally, checking himself out. He swayed his hips, tilted one toward and then away from the mirror, pouted, did a tongue smile, and…and Logan realized he had been watching for more than a socially acceptable length of time.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat again. But he was saved from having to speak by a loud crackling at the center console.

Both Sides rushed over, Logan seizing the TV screen and pulling it down. Gray static skittered over the polished surface. He flipped two switches and turned a dial, trying to zero in on the signal.

“I meant to ask earlier…how do you know what to do?” Roman asked, tilting his head. “You were piloting before I think you even realized we were on a TARDIS in the first place.”

Logan froze in the middle of winding one of the cranks.

“I…I really do not know.” In fact, the more he thought about it, the less sense any of the controls made. “Now that you’ve drawn my attention to it, you are correct: rationally, I should not know the function of any of these…gizmos.” He gestured at the crank he’d been winding.

“Yet somehow my hands just…know.”

Roman leaned casually onto the console.

“When I built this LARP, I gave the Imagination quite a bit of leeway in how it wanted to construct our characters,” he said. “I’m thinking it took things a step further than costume changes, like making me the companion it thinks I most resemble instead of the companion I wanted to be.”

Roman bit his lip as though troubled, then clearly shook himself out of it.

“And it must have imparted some of the Doctor’s knowledge upon me.” Logan added, not sure how he felt about the Imagination having such a direct influence over his mind. He supposed if it didn’t get too invasive, and was confined to this one night, he could deal with it.

It had proven useful so far, after all.

Roman shot Logan a fierce grin.

“Indeed! So engage that big Doctor brain and let’s see who’s trying to call us. Allons-y, adventure awaits!”

“You know ‘allons-y’ is my line, right?” Logan said dryly.

He had to use his screwdriver on the screen before the picture came clear. The stream of static acquired the cadence of a voice…and then a disturbingly familiar face stared back at his own, looking equally shocked.

Roman, for the second time since entering the TARDIS, let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Chapter 3- The Witch’s Familiar

“If you’re going to take my stick, do me the courtesy of actually killing me. Teamwork is all about respect.”

Janus had just settled into his favorite chair with a mug of chamomile tea and a political science book when he was yanked…rather rudely, he might add…onto the deck of a spaceship.

He sighed, and dismissed his drink.

When one lived in the same mindspace as the literal embodiment of chaos, one unfortunately learned to expect such interruptions.

“REMUS!” he roared, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did I not specifically ask to be LEFT ALONE tonight?”

Silence.

Deeply annoyed now, Janus took a moment to look around himself. This was not a normal spaceship; no windows, for one, and it was laid out in levels around a translucent column at the very center. His mismatched eyes followed the center rotor up and down, his mind almost placing it…

Something clumsily rose up from the deck with a clatter, causing Janus to summon his crook with a yell.

Only…the object that dropped into his hand wasn’t smooth wood, but a slender metal instrument just barely longer than his hand. A…sonic screwdriver? What the actual heck?

Well. It was what he had.

“Get back!” He pointed the instrument at the…figure…who still slowly climbed to its feet. It was an android or robot of some sort; humanoid, and the same kind of weirdly familiar as the ship.

“Janus?” the robot said, tilting its head.

Janus froze, all the scales standing up on his body. That was…that was Patton’s voice. Flat, mechanical, but unmistakable.

After all, Patton was the only Side who consistently called Janus by name.

“Patton?” Janus whispered.

“Oh, that was so weird-feeling! Thank goodness I’m not all by myself,” Robot-Patton said, putting a hand over his…well, where his heart should have been…in obvious relief. “But why are we both suddenly on the TARDIS?”

Janus drew in a sharp breath.

Of course, he should have recognized the stupid time rotor immediately. He’d never admit it to any of them, but he was as much of a Doctor Who nerd as Logan or Roman, sometimes going so far as to spy on them when they argued over episodes together.

To learn their arguing styles, of course.

Not because he had any desire to join those discussions.

And now, looking at Patton with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Janus deduced exactly what he was: a Mondasian Cyberman. They were older and cruder in design than the reboot versions…no wonder he hadn’t put a finger on it right away.

That wasn’t really the issue.

“REMUS!” Janus shouted again, more angrily this time. Bad enough his pleasant evening of solitude had been interrupted by…whatever this was. But putting the sweetest, most emotional Side into a canonically unemotional shell, a robot?

That was cruel. That was insulting.

It was too far, even for Remus.

“Janus, is everything okay?” Patton asked, coming closer. Janus shivered at the sound of that warm voice coming from a blank metallic face with empty eyes.

“Do you…feel all right?” Janus said in a hesitant voice.

“I’m a little chilly, but otherwise I’m in ship shape!” the other quipped, giggling. “Get it? Cause we’re on a ship?”

Is it…is it possible that he doesn’t know?

“Hilarious,” Janus deadpanned, but inside his thoughts spun.

He sensed they were in a dream construct within the Imagination, which meant this had to be Remus’s doing. Remus, who reveled in gore, despair, disturbing imagery, angst, and who was in charge of Thomas’s nightmares.

Remus could…and would, given the chance…recreate the experience of being a Cyberman down to the Last. Grim. Detail.

Maybe he hadn’t meant to ensnare Patton specifically to fill this role…Remus didn’t generally pull other Sides in for nightmares, come to think of it…but meanwhile, Janus didn’t want to find out what this might do to Patton’s head.

Worse, it was becoming clear that Patton was somehow oblivious to the state of his own body; he’d used his metallic hands to clutch at his metallic chest and found nothing wrong with either. He couldn’t hear the electronic rasp in his own voice, or the heavy clanging of his steps on the grated floor.

Should Janus say something?

Would Patton believe him if he did?

Ever since Thomas’s near mental breakdown after the disastrous wedding, Patton and Janus had orbited around each other in a state of tenuous truce. They talked now, sometimes, and those talks didn’t always end in arguments. Patton began to leave space for him by Thomas’s blinds when he was called up, and he…and by extension Thomas…occasionally actually sought his input.

But Janus, well.

Janus was still a liar.

The others still called him Deceit, either by accident (Logan) or out of spite (Virgil). Then there was Roman, who invented a colorful, wounding ego-jab for him every day, and Remus, whose fond nicknames tended to double as sex jokes.

Having no other real allies in the mindscape, Janus really, really didn’t want to screw up his tenuous alliance with Patton. Why sabotage his figurative “seat at the table” over one of Remus’s stupid nightmares?

Patton would assume Janus was slipping back into his old ways, lying just because he could, and Janus would never be able to prove otherwise. And later Patton would make that sour, pinched face he always made when he was disappointed, the one that made Janus want to crawl into a hole…

So.

Best to keep his observations close to the chest, for now.

“Do you have any idea what we’re doing here?” Janus asked, striding to the center console. True to dream logic, the controls made no sense and simultaneously made perfect sense.

Patton shrugged; a strange, clanky motion of his shoulders.

Janus sighed. “Although Remus has dragged me into dreams before, even he generally understands the concept of consent.” He casually flapped a hand. “And he always leaves you ‘light sides’ alone.”

“Honestly, this doesn’t feel like a nightmare to me,” Patton said, nearly making Janus choke. The Cyberman clanked over to stand by the console.

“It’s too clean,” Patton added. “Roman let me glimpse Remus’s side of the Imagination once, not long after he showed himself to Thomas, and it was…”

Patton trailed off.

“Fragmented? Chaotic? Disturbing?” Janus supplied.

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Patton said quietly. “This,” he waved a hand around, “feels more like Roman’s work.”

“I suppose you would know.” Janus ran a thoughtful thumb over his face, tracing the ridge that ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear.

“And I would almost have to agree,” he added slowly. “If this was a nightmare, surely something ghastly would have happened by now. But my being pulled into one of Roman’s creations makes even less sense. He literally cannot stand me.”

“Maybe this is one of those dreams Thomas has sometimes after binge watching a show?” Patton suggested. “When there’s enough material in short term memory that the twins don’t get much input? Did Thomas binge a season of Doctor Who yesterday or something?”

And to think the others still view you as stupid, or slow-witted.

Janus bit back a smile.

“It’s a good theory, Patton, but no,” he said. “Thomas hasn’t really binged on much of anything lately.”

Patton ducked his head.

“You don’t…you don’t have to rub it in, you know,” he said lowly, the metallic rasp grating on Janus’s ears. “You and Logan have both made it pretty clear that I’ve been too strict with Thomas’s time.”

Janus fought to keep his expression neutral, but his stomach twisted.

Damn it.

Leave it to Patton to find guilt where none was meant. Even if Janus claimed he hadn’t meant it like that, Patton would probably not believe him.

Patton tilted his metal head as he examined Janus’s face.

“Did you know you have a mustache now? And a little goatee?”

“I have a what?” Janus felt at his face and groaned, his gloved fingers tugging at hair that most certainly did not belong on his face; with the scales, it probably looked hideous.

His entire outfit had altered in subtle ways, he realized. His usual plum tunic and trousers were now a brown suit and waistcoat ensemble, crossed with yellow pinstripes, with a black collared undershirt. A brown, knee-length suit jacket replaced his caplet, with subtle gold trimming. His yellow gloves were unchanged, thank goodness, and his hat…?

His hands flew up to his head and found something perched over his hair, sitting at an angle. Janus yanked down a screen at the console and stared. His beloved bowler had shrunk into a tiny, flat, rakish thing with a wide brim, festooned with a cluster of yellow rosebuds and black beads.

“What on earth, Remus?” he grumbled, turning his head from side to side. Well, if he had to be honest, pinstripes and a hatinator weren’t a terrible look.

“Well, if we’re on a TARDIS, I guess you’re supposed to be the Doctor,” Patton pointed out. “Which would make me your companion.”

Janus stroked his goatee and examined their surroundings in more detail. But am I a Doctor? he wondered. And if so, which one?

And whose TARDIS is this?

Because while it was clear they were on a TARDIS…what other class of spaceship had a time rotor?…he wasn’t almost certain this was not the TARDIS.

Every corner of the Doctor’s ship, no matter which face it belonged to, tended to overflow with bright, shiny, eclectic whimsy. By contrast, this one was plain, stark, with exposed metal beams and sharp angles.

Too dark, too full of shadows.

An awful suspicion rose up in his mind.

He crossed to one of the bookshelves, ignoring Patton’s soft inquiry, and his jaw clenched. There was the Necronomicon, shelved between the Liber Inducens in Evangelium Aeternum and The Black Scrolls of Rassilon, Book of Vile and its Black Appendix, The Ambuehl Lores and the Insidium of Astrolabus.

Janus finally looked at the sonic device he’d been holding all this time; seeing now that it wasn’t a screwdriver at all, and thanked every god he knew that he hadn’t tried to use it on Patton earlier.

It was a sonic laser.

Once again, even in a stupid, nonsensical dream, Janus had been cast as the villain.

His fist had collided with the bookshelf before he even realized he was moving, books falling to the floor. He punched it again, and again, until a cool rigid hand closed around his wrist and yanked him back.

“Janus, Janus, stop!” Patton yelled in his ear.

Janus wrenched his arm away and stalked back to the console, running gloved fingers over his scales, pushing them up and smoothing them down. The familiar sensation grounded him.

“You were right, Patton,” he threw over his shoulder. “This is definitely one of Roman’s dreams, and he definitely fucking hates me.”

Patton’s heavy footsteps clattered behind him.

“Language. And how do you know that,” he asked. “…Doctor?”

Janus whirled, lips curled in a snarl.

“I am not the Doctor, Patton, and we are not on the TARDIS.” He spread his arms to encompass them both, gesturing to the dimly lit spaceship. “Look around. Look at me!”

He turned, slowly, and eyed his mustached visage in the dark view screen.

“Clearly, I am the Master.”

Chapter 4- Nightmare in Silver

“You think he knows what he’s doing?”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.”

Patton rested his arms against the console and sighed.

Once again, someone I care about is upset, and I don’t know what to do. I guess I should be used to it by now.

It didn’t help that it was so cold in this TARDIS. He folded his arms around his middle, which felt strange and heavy, to combat the chill that seemed to have settled deep in his bones.

Janus stalked past again, grumbling to himself.

“Of course the Prince would pull me into one of his little ‘adventures’ without my consent. He probably needed an antagonist. And naturally the slippery snake would have been the first person to come to mind!”

Patton opened his mouth…though he had no idea what he was going to say…but Janus drowned him out.

“Come on, Roman!” he shouted, throwing his yellow-clad hands up. “You’ve had your fun. Yes, I’m evil, I’m the villain, I’m the bad guy, blah blah. Let’s have our epic confrontation or whatever nonsense you have planned, as I would very much like to get back to my reading sometime tonight.”

Silence.

Patton didn’t know what Janus was expecting.

“Look, maybe we should just play along for now?” Patton said aloud, wincing when Janus turned his murderous expression on him. The deceptive Side had such deep, cutting golden eyes, the human one so much darker than the other…cynical eyes that were, ironically, almost impossible to lie to.

They’d see straight through it.

“It takes a liar to know a liar.”

The glare quickly softened, though, which in Patton’s opinion said a lot about how far Janus had come.

“And how do you propossse we ‘play along’?” Janus said, hissing his s’s in frustration.

“Well, we’ve kinda decided this is Roman’s dream, right? And since we’re in his part of the Imagination, we know he won’t let anything bad happen to us…”

Patton trailed off at Janus’s pained expression, reminded of just how badly Janus and Roman’s last encounter had gone.

“What are you, a middle school librarian?”

“Thank god you don’t have a mustache.”

And I just stood there and did nothing…no, I can’t dwell on that right now. Patton shook himself out of the memory.

It was surprisingly easy; even his emotions felt a little heavy and muted. He supposed he wasn’t used to being in a dreamscape; unlike Roman, who played in them all the time.

I know Roman, Patton reasoned. He might hold a grudge for a while, but he wouldn’t actually be out to hurt Janus.

Right?

“So, if we’re on a time ship, on some kind of adventure leading up to a confrontation like you said, the first thing we’d have to do is figure out where we need to go,” Patton finished, shrugging.

Janus pursed his lips…which looked downright weird with a mustache and goatee, almost making Patton giggle…and began pushing buttons on the console.

“You are definitely incorrect, Patton,” he said, pulling up another screen and flipping a few switches. “If I have been cast as the villain in this ridiculous charade, that means Roman is likely prancing around as the Doctor right now, on the proper TARDIS. Which, as the Doctor’s nemesis, I should be able to contact…ha!”

The screen burst into static.

“Doctor, oh Doctor, do you read me?” Janus crooned, and if Patton hadn’t known just how angry he was in that moment…well, he would have never known.

Janus had tucked it away entirely, in half a second's time.

That’s the scary thing about him, Patton realized uneasily. He’s smart, nearly as smart as Logan. Smart enough to run circles around me, that’s for sure. And he’s easily as good an actor as Roman.

Those attributes, combined with his naturally manipulative nature, made it difficult to trust him.

Patton was trying.

He’d been trying since the wedding, and well, since everything else that had happened. (Patton still cringed when Thomas encountered even a picture of a frog.) He’d done a lot of thinking and growing that day (in more ways than one!), and he’d come to a disturbing, but inevitable conclusion.

Janus wasn’t evil.

He never had been.

Just like Virgil had never been evil. Mean, sure; and sarcastic, and spiteful…but at his core, Virgil had wanted what was best for Thomas.

They all did.

And then there was the uncomfortable corollary to that: Patton, despite his best efforts, despite his core Purpose…Patton wasn’t entirely and automatically good.

Two weeks ago, Janus had proven beyond a doubt that Thomas needed him…ruthlessly, cuttingly, but no one could say he hadn’t made his point. It had been Patton who’d inadvertently pushed Thomas to the brink of a breakdown, and Janus who had to pull them all back.

Despite Patton’s unease, and the little voice in his head telling him that Deceit couldn’t be trusted, could never truly be trusted because it was in his nature to deceive…Patton remembered how they’d pushed Virgil so hard he decided to duck out, and how much of a tragedy that could have been if they hadn’t all intervened to bring him back.

With a pang of guilt, he pictured Thomas lying on the floor, crushed under the metaphorical weight of everything Patton needed him to do to keep from being a bad person…

He would not make those mistakes again.

If Virgil could learn to work with them instead of against them, so could Janus. If Patton could learn to recognize when his own Purpose did more harm than good, so could Janus.

Patton had to believe that.

He’d made too many mistakes lately to believe otherwise.

The screen in Janus’s hands cleared to reveal…

“What? Logan??” Janus exclaimed, as a scream echoed somewhere in the background.

“D—Janus?” Logan countered, then looked over his shoulder. “Roman, for the love of Archimedes, will you stop shrieking? I cannot hear.”

The screaming cut off and Roman’s fuming face squished into the frame with Logan.

“Deceit! I should have known you would show up to ruin this!” he managed to shout before Logan shoved him away.

“Ruin…I’m sorry, what?” Janus glanced at Patton, looking honestly confused. “Is he roleplaying right now? We assumed this scenario was Roman’s creation.”

Onscreen, Logan placed his whole hand against Roman’s mouth to prevent him from interrupting.

“It is. But to my understanding, it was only supposed to involve myself and Roman, and…wait. You said ’we’.” Logan peered around. “Who else is with you?”

Patton started to wave, but his view was blocked by Janus bending close to the screen to whisper something. Suspicion flared in Patton’s stomach; old, familiar, but after the talk he’d just given himself, he purposefully pushed it down.

I won’t assume he’s being shifty unless he actually gives me a reason to.

Lifting his chin, he crept forward until he was next to Janus’s shoulder.

“Hey, Logan,” he said brightly, waving.

“Ah…hello, Patton,” Logan squeaked after a moment, his eyes still wide.

“Wait, Patton’s there? With the snake?” Roman’s voice yelled from the background, and then there was Roman’s face again.

“Patton?” Roman said, narrowing his eyes. “But why are you—?”

Both faces disappeared for a moment as Logan yanked Roman out of frame. Patton thought he heard a rapid, hushed conversation. He glanced at Janus, who only shrugged, looking at puzzled as Patton felt.

Roman’s face reappeared, solemn and deeply annoyed.

“Patton,” he said, and hesitated. “D—Janus. You two…well, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Very reassuring,” Janus quipped.

“This was only supposed to be a two-person adventure: Doctor plus companion. I have no idea why the Imagination brought you both in as well; I certainly didn’t tell it to.”

“Aw, that’s okay, kiddo,” Patton started gently. “It’s not your fault—”

“Oh, sweetie.” Janus folded his arms. “I’m sorry, but that’s bull. Putting me in the Master’s shoes? Are we seriously going to pretend the Side who unashamedly hates me had nothing to do with that?”

“I didn’t!” Roman argued, his voice going high. “You really think I wanted you here, in any capacity?”

“Deceit…er, Janus, you are being unnecessarily antagonistic, and as such, unhelpful,” Logan cut in with his low, reassuring voice. “But Roman, it might behoove us to consider the role of subconscious influence. You may not have intended to pull the others in, and yet here they are.”

Roman looked at Logan, aghast, and Patton almost flinched at the raw hurt in his caramel eyes. The creative Side backed out of frame.

“So you’re on his side, too,” his voice said quietly. “Is that how it is?”

“I am not on anyone’s side,” Logan argued, raising his hands. “We are all currently in this situation together, and as such—”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by another garbled transmission, taking over the screen and blocking out Logan’s face with crackly, purple static. A gray, snarling face flashed out of the haze, making Patton shriek in surprise and even Janus took a step back.

Then it was gone, dissolving back to static…and the sound of someone laughing filled the connection.

“Hellooooo, nurse,” a familiar sing-song voice crooned. “Did you miss me?”

Chapter 5- The Long Game

“You can’t just read the guide book, you’ve got to throw yourself in. Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double and end up kissing complete strangers. Or is that just me?”

Logan sighed.

He knew that voice; they all did. Even Thomas, unfortunately.

“Remus,” Roman hissed.

The mustached Side filled the screen, grinning madly. “Boo!”

“Get out of my scenario,” Roman said, his eyes flashing. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“Your scenario?” Remus echoed, faux-outrage in his expression. “Yours? The Dream Palace is my domain, too, brother, whether you like it or not.” He leaned closer, letting his nostrils and a single radioactive green eye fill the screen. “Did you really think you could keep me out?”

Roman made a sound of disgust deep in his throat.

“Am I to assume, then, that you are responsible for bringing in the other Sides?” Logan asked, careful to keep his voice even. Remus thrived on getting a rise out of people.

“Of course he is!” Roman snapped, throwing up his hands. “He loves to ruin things, especially my things.”

“Now why would having the others here ruin anything, brother?” Remus asked in a sickly sweet voice, propping his head on his hand. “Unless you intended for this nighttime romp between you and Logan to be private?”

Roman sputtered and glanced at Logan, red-faced, as Remus giggled.

“It was meant to be so, yes,” Logan supplied, unsure why Remus would find that funny…or why Roman would find it embarrassing.

“As amusing as this all is—” Janus’s crooning voice cut through the speaker.

“Great. You’re still here, snake?” Roman snarked, his arms folded around himself.

“We’re all listening, kiddo,” Patton’s metallic voice said.

Roman’s lips always curl into a pout when he is angry, Logan thought, eyeing him without turning his head, and he gets a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. Why…why am I noticing such things all of a sudden?

Maybe it was the stress, or the unfamiliar environment.

Or maybe it was the Rose Tyler outfit.

That skirt ought to be illegal.

Logan deliberately focused on the screen, his cheeks warm.

“So this is kinda new,” Patton went on, “all of us actually talking—”

“If Remus is responsible,” Janus cut in again, “then perhaps he would be so kind as to explain the objective of this late night group therapy session?”

Despite the biting sarcasm, Logan did appreciate Janus’s insistence that they get to the point, even if it did mean talking over Patton…

Speaking of, why would Remus have paired Patton with Janus?

Surely he should have grouped Patton with Logan and Roman, and put Virgil with Janus? Or…maybe not, given how Virgil hisses if Janus so much as enters the same room.

Ugh. Interpersonal drama. Logan was thoroughly sick of trying to keep track of who carried a grudge against whom, especially when it seemed to change from day to day.

And on top of that, why would Remus make Patton a Cyberman? None of these decisions make any sense…

“Right?” Roman agreed softly next to him, and Logan realized he’d said that last bit out loud.

“If anything, I should have been the unfeeling killer robot,” Logan murmured.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Specs.” Roman shot him a strange look, both warm and troubled. “And frankly I don’t give a stinky rat’s ass about my stinky rat brother’s sick thought process. What I want to know is why Deceit doesn’t want us to mention it around Patton?”

Logan, who was still mentally stuck on rodents and donkeys…Roman’s metaphors were always something else…shook his head slightly.

“There’s no logical way Patton is unaware of his condition,” Logan pointed out. “So I can only guess he wishes to protect Patton’s feelings on the matter, by not allowing us to talk about it in front of him.” He shrugged when Roman’s frown deepened. “Those two have been getting along much better these last few weeks.”

“I think you’re giving the snake too much credit,” Roman muttered. “Even after he impersonated you, Logan? C’mon. It has to be something else.”

Logan bit back a sigh.

He doesn’t understand, he thought guiltily. Because he doesn’t know what really happened…

#

“This is unacceptable, Deceit,” Logan snapped, flinging the crook away from his body. “I was in the middle of a discussion—”

“He won’t listen to you,” Deceit had said, and there was no sarcasm or snark in his voice.

“Patton asked for my opinion!”

“And he dismissed you from the conversation the moment that opinion went against his preconceived notions!” Deceit snapped back.

Silence.

Logan could hear the others still talking, out in the real world…without him…as the misty dregs of subconscious curled around their feet.

“You tricked him.” Logan folded his arms. “He was scared and off balance and you gave him an out.”

“I didn’t make him take it!”

Deceit sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Logan. You know he is wrong on this. You know what this is doing to Thomas. His unquestioning, black-and-white, juvenile morality; it’s not working anymore. Thomas needs to grow up, and Patton is not letting him.”

Logan bit his lip.

“Logan.” Deceit moved closer, dismissing his crook into mist and setting both gloved hands on Logan’s shoulders. Logan stiffened.

“Logic. Please. I am…no good at this.” Deceit dropped his head, his hat obscuring his eyes. “I operate through deceit because that is the only way I can make them acknowledge me.”

“They don’t acknowledge you because you operate through deceit,” Logan pointed out.

“A perfect catch 22.” Deceit let out a bitter laugh. “But a snake cannot change its scales and I don’t…I have tried everything I know. I cannot fix this from the shadows. I am out of ideas.”

A strange thought entered Logan’s mind.

“You care. You care what happens to Thomas.”

Deceit looked up, his mismatched eyes glittering with stinging intensity. “I am the literal representation of selfishness. Why the hell else would I go to all this trouble if I didn’t care?”

“Well…” Logan trailed off, troubled.

He’d let the others get to him, he realized in that moment. He’d let Roman get to him, with his talk of evil and Dark Sides and how they were always trying to tempt Thomas off the right path.

But…they were all part of Thomas, even the so-called “dark sides”.

Of course they wanted what was best for him…well, what Remus wanted at any given moment was debatable…even if they didn’t always go about it in the healthiest of ways.

Deceit had laughed then, high pitched and bitter.

“Really? Really? Even you think so low of me?”

“You are manipulating me right now.” Logan frowned. “You are using my concern for Thomas to make me trust you.”

“Yes! I am!” Deceit got in his face, fangs flashing. “I am a manipulative bastard because that is the lens through which my Source perceives me. But that doesn’t matter because you, Logic; you see through me, always have. And you know perfectly well that logically, any objection you have to my personality or my methods does not change the fact that I. Am. Right.”

He punctuated each word with a poke to Logan’s chest.

“Deceit—” Logan started.

“Janus.”

“What?”

Deceit sighed. “My name. My…real name. It’s Janus.”

Logan blinked. He knew the mythology, of course: Janus, keeper of doorways and thresholds, looking simultaneously to the past and future. Two faces. Seeing things from every angle.

Self-preservation.

“It suits you,” Logan said quietly.

Tension bled out of Janus’s shoulders, a stiffness Logan hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone.

“Thank you.”

“Why am I here…Janus?” Logan asked, glancing away. “What do you need from me?”

Janus looked at him intently.

“Let me speak to them as you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and Janus sighed, waving a hand.

“I know, I know, more deceit, more lies, but—”

“No, it’s…” Logan pressed his lips together. “You already pointed it out. They don’t listen to me, either.”

The bitter twist that accompanied those words was becoming an all too familiar sensation in Logan’s chest.

Janus snorted.

“Oh, they do. Eventually. They heeded your advice on how to deal with Remus.”

Logan shrugged uncomfortably.

“Look,” Janus added, “honest people know how to tell the truth, but liars…” he smirked, not especially nicely. “We know how to wield the truth to accomplish an end. I can pull Thomas and the others out of this rut, but they have to be receptive to my tugging on the reins.”

Logan pursed his lips.

“You won’t fool them. If you recall, you tried to impersonate me once already and barely lasted two minutes.”

“I didn’t have your blessing.”

Janus fixed Logan with his intense mismatched eyes again, and held out a hand.

Logan stared at it, torn.

This was Deceit, the master liar: Thomas’s entire capacity for deception condensed into a single, snake-faced Side. How could Logan possibly trust him to not make things worse, after all the falsehoods, the impersonations, how he’d manipulated them all in one way or another to get his way?

But…as much as Logan, personally, didn’t understand why that callback had been so important to Thomas…he could not dismiss the fallout Thomas had suffered as a result of missing it. The decision to attend the wedding had turned out to be a bad one.

Patton had been wrong to insist upon it over Janus’s objections, and over Roman’s.

Those were just the facts.

Janus sighed.

“I’ll unmask myself when an opportunity arises, if that would help,” he offered, and to Logan’s shock, slowly tugged off a glove. “I won’t…I won’t let it go on as long as it did with Patton.”

He offered his now bare hand to Logan again.

Out in the real world, Logan could hear Patton’s increasingly desperate and ridiculous responses to Thomas’s and Roman’s questions, and winced. Janus did the same.

“Please,” was all he said.

Logan sighed…it really couldn’t get any worse, could it?…and shook Janus’s hand.

#

In his TARDIS, Logan let out the sigh he was holding back.

He might have personal, concrete evidence that Janus wasn’t evil, but he also knew Janus had wounded Roman, badly, that day. The creative Side was simply not currently capable of viewing any situation involving Janus with any sort of objectivity.

Passionate, sensitive people like Roman tended to have an unfortunate habit of hanging onto grudges.

As Logic, Logan needed to remember that.

“Oh, all right,” Remus said, his voice crackling over the connection. “Since you’re all here—”

“Actually, Remus, we’re not all here,” Patton’s voice pointed out. “You all know perfectly well who we’re missing; we’ve done this before.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “‘Where is Anxiety?’” he quoted.

“You mean Tickle Me Emo isn’t with one of you?” Remus asked, looking delighted. “Oh dear, oh dear. Is he lost?”

“I mean, TARDISes are huge,” Roman pointed out. “He could be somewhere on one of our ships.” His voice dropped again. “I’ll bet Deceit stashed him away, because we all know how he hates Virgil.”

“Excuse you,” Janus’s voice interrupted, annoyed. “It is Virgil who hates me, not the other way around.”

“Let’s both scan our ships,” Logan suggested, hoping to head off an argument. Honestly, if Roman and Janus didn’t stop picking fights with one another, he was going to lose his marbles.

The scans pulled up nothing.

“Oh well,” Remus said with a shrug. “Guess the emo gets to miss out.”

Janus grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like ��lucky”.

“All right, here’s what’s going to happen.” Remus leaned close to the screen. “I’ve crash landed on a lovely snowbound planet that’s crawling with psychotic tin cans who like to roll around yelling ‘exterminate’.”

“Daleks? A snowbound planet, so not Skarro, but where else…” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“He’s on the Dalek asylum,” Roman said lowly. “That was one of the episodes I had in mind when I plotted this adventure.”

“Very good, brother.” Remus clapped his hands. “And up there in orbit is a ship full of people who’d really like to blow up the whole planet. Oh, woe is me, whatever shall I—”

“Save it,” Roman snapped. “You’d probably enjoy getting blown up.”

“Hmm, true.” Remus’s green eyes sharpened. “Think of the mess! Little bits of intestines floating through space, long pink ropey—”

“Or?” Logan interjected, before Remus gave Patton nightmares.

“Or you have to come rescue me!” Remus’s teeth flashed as he grinned. “Because otherwise it’s nighty-night for me and all the other aliens in the asylum.”

There was a beat of silence.

“As terrible as that sounds,” Janus drawled, sounding anything but worried, “given that none of this is real, and at least one of us would very much rather not be here at all…why exactly should your plight concern us?”

Logan secretly agreed, but felt his stomach clench when he glanced at Roman’s troubled face. None of this was real…right? Would something concretely bad happen to Remus if the planet he inhabited was blown up?

Surely not.

This was only a dream. Perhaps, then, Roman was merely upset that his twin had usurped his adventure for the night?

“Also.” Remus buffed his fingernails. “You should know that the Imagination will only release us if we complete the objective. In other words,” and he sneered, purple-shadowed eyes glittering, “we’re all stuck in this scenario until we’re all reunited.”

Remus giggled as Logan exchanged a shocked look with Roman.

“I don’t believe you. This was my dream,” Roman said darkly. “And I’ve just about had enough of all this!”

He stepped back and snapped his fingers with a flourish. Frowning, he did it again, and again, his face growing paler with each try.

“Roman, what—” Logan started.

“I can’t end it,” Roman whispered, still snapping. “He’s right. He’s…he’s sealed off the dream’s boundaries somehow. Remus!”

This he roared at the screen.

“Keeping Thomas trapped in a dream state is going too far, Remus!” he yelled. “I don’t care what kind of demented game you want to play with us, but we don’t bring Thomas into it.”

“Oh, you think I created an unbreakable dreamscape?” Remus snapped. “You let the Imagination have too much reign, my dear brother, and now neither of us have the power to end the dream ourselves. I estimate we have about ten hours before Thomas wakes up.”

For a moment, all Logan could hear was the soft whoosh of the time rotor, and Roman’s shallow, angry breathing at his shoulder.

“So I suggest you all pilot your ships to these coordinates,” Remus added, and a series of numbers and strange symbols flashed up on one of the smaller console screens. “And get started.”

The main screen blipped, and Remus’s face was replaced by an expressionless Cyberman and a snake-faced Side who looked extremely pale under his scales.

“Well,” Logan stated. “This is a problem.”

Chapter 6- Asylum of the Daleks

“You’re going to fire me at a planet? That’s your plan? I get fired at a planet and expected to fix it?”

“In fairness, that is slightly your M.O.”

“Don’t be fair to the Daleks when they’re firing me at a planet.”

The familiar wheeze of the TARDIS materializing filled Roman’s ears as he waited by the doors. Logan joined him a moment later.

“Ready?” he asked, smoothing a hand over his cravat.

He looks good as the Doctor, Roman thought, eying the slimming black and navy, the graceful arc that hand made as it adjusted a pair of glasses…

He shook himself out of his distraction. “Let’s do this, nerd.”

Logan opened the doors and the two stepped out…not onto the asylum, but onto a spaceship. Shiny copper terraces lined the vast walls in curving rows, leading the eye up to a domed ceiling with a clear view of black, star-studded space. Like a huge amphitheater, or stadium. Even Roman had to admit, the Imagination had really outdone itself on the realism.

Of course, given that the ship was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of Daleks calling for violence…realism wasn’t exactly comforting at the moment.

“Surprise, surprise, I don’t see my stupid brother,” Roman commented over the dull roar of the crowd.

“No. But I recognize where we are.” Logan waved a hand. “You were right about Remus’s location; this ship is from the episode ‘Asylum of the Daleks’, in Season 7. If we are following the basic plotline, Remus is likely somewhere down on the planet below, and we will be sent to him in due course. However…I am curious as to why all the other aliens are here.”

Roman looked around again, seeing that Logan was right. Daleks formed the majority of the crowd, but he also spotted Zygons, Sontarans, Silurians, other Cybermen, Ice Warriors…and quite a few aliens from older seasons he couldn’t remember the names of.

(Logan probably could.)

A second TARDIS materialized near their familiar blue box: plain, gray; a squat column of a ship. Janus emerged first, a silver instrument gripped in one gloved hand, followed by an old-school Cyberman…Patton. Roman frowned. Seeing that metal…being…and having to remember it was actually his friend was going to be difficult now that there wasn’t a screen separating them.

“Nice work, Roman,” Janus said, sidling up next to him and faux-clapping his hands. “A ship full of aliens who want us dead; always an excellent starting point for an adventure.”

“This is how the episode starts, Mr. Oh-I’m-Such-an-Expert-in-Doctor-Who,” Roman retorted. “Accuracy is important.”

“But this isn’t accurate,” Logan pointed out. “There should only be Daleks here.”

Roman folded his arms, stung.

Damn Logan and his damned need to be right all the time.

“I…well, I didn’t model this adventure after just one particular episode,” Roman admitted. “I wanted it to be a challenge, and it wouldn’t be if Logan and I already knew the ending. So no, I can’t exactly explain why all the other aliens are here, okay?”

Logan sighed.

“I was not criticizing you, Roman,” he said in a gentler voice. “As this has apparently become as much Remus’s and the Imagination’s handiwork as it is yours, it would be unreasonable to expect you to know what comes next.”

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL APPROACH THE SUPREME DALEK,” a grating robotic voice boomed across the ship, making them all whip around. A large white Dalek with an antenna on its shell loomed on a raised stage near the center of the amphitheater.

“They were expecting me, too?” Janus raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

The lights on the Dalek’s head flashed as it spoke again.

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL APPROACH WITH THEIR COMPANIONS.”

The four Sides exchanged a glance, and weaved through the assembled Daleks to the raised stage. The White Supreme Dalek was not the only occupant; it was flanked by an Ice Warrior, an Emojibot (which made Patton giggle), and…

“Look, a Janus,” Roman chortled, nudging the snake-faced Side in the ribs and pointing out the two-faced alien.

“You are all nerds and my logo is a two-headed snake,” Janus complained, rolling his eyes. “I literally do not know how all of you missed that obvious clue to my name.”

“DOCTOR,” the White Dalek said as they climbed the dais. “MASTER. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE DALEK ASYLUM?”

“I’m just impressed my rat-faced brother wasn’t lying about his location,” Roman grumbled, and sputtered when Logan placed a hand over his mouth.

“According to legend,” Logan said, “you have a dumping ground, a planet where you lock up all the Daleks that go wrong.”

“The battle-scarred, the insane. The ones even you can’t control,” Janus clarified. His voice dropped to a hiss. “No wonder they ssstuck Remus there.”

Roman covered his mouth to keep from snorting.

The snake would not make him laugh.

“CORRECT.” The Dalek pushed a button and a hole opened in the middle of the floor. A snow-covered planet lay below them, pristine from this high up.

“Ooh, that’s,” Patton started, and let out a metallic gulp. “That’s quite a drop. Do we, ah, have to go down the same way? Cause I remember that part, and—”

“How many Daleks are down there?” Logan asked.

“A COUNT HAS NOT BEEN MADE,” the white Dalek said.

“Millions, certainly,” a new voice chimed in. The tall, robed, dark-skinned Janus stepped forward, their front face addressing them. “But they will not be your only concern. The population of the planet consists of more than just Daleks.”

Roman exchanged a suspicious glance with Logan. This wasn’t in the episode. This is new.

“What do you mean?” Janus, their Janus, asked.

The alien Janus turned to a nearby monitor, pulling up some information. The backward-facing face continued to address them.

“Some time ago, the Daleks began noticing a curious phenomenon,” they said. “Random people, from all different races and species, started turning up on various planets in this quadrant of space, including the asylum. No ships, no technology, and no knowledge of how they’d gotten there. At first the imprisoned Daleks on the asylum simply killed them off as they appeared—”

Patton visibly winced, even with his metal body, and Logan’s eyes grew flinty.

“—but the new arrivals eventually became too many to exterminate,” the alien Janus went on, unconcerned. “By now we suspect the planet has a population of over a billion, far too many for its automated systems to handle.”

They turned their forward face to the four again.

“THE ASYLUM IS COMPROMISED,” the Dalek Supreme proclaimed. “IT MUST BE CLEANSED.”

“Hang on, you’re still going to blow the whole planet up?” Roman protested. “A billion people?”

“To be fair, that is what they did in the original episode,” Logan pointed out quietly.

“But that was just Daleks!”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Ah, so genocide is fine when it’s only the evil aliens getting blown up?”

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised to hear you defending the bad guys!” Roman snapped.

“That is enough!” Patton snapped in his robotic voice, stepping between them and raising both his hands. Laser pistols popped out of both of them, making both Roman and Janus step back in alarm.

After a tense moment, Patton lowered his arms again; the guns clicked and vanished into their casings.

“Uh, sorry kiddos, I don’t know what came over me,” he said in a sheepish, more Patton-y voice. “Can we please not fight? It…it kinda makes me feel weird and jittery when you do.”

Roman stared at Patton’s blank Cyberman face and armored Cyberman body and swallowed, hard.

Their Patton would never deliberately aim a gun at anyone, let alone his family. But Cybermen were created to eliminate…or rather, delete…anyone who got in their way.

Did Patton even realize what he’d almost done?

What would happen, if and when he was forced to confront the reality of his body in this realm? What if he didn’t figure it out until he accidentally did something terrible? It wouldn’t be real, of course, but to Patton…that wouldn’t matter.

If his Cyberman programming forced or tricked him into hurting someone, the guilt of it would devastate him.

All I wanted to do was take Logan on an adventure, Roman thought bitterly. A fun little dream adventure where he could play one of his heroes. Was that too much to ask, Imagination?

He folded his arms and glared around the Dalek ship, anywhere but at his fellow Sides.

Whatever the hell this has turned into, I want no part of it anymore.

“In order for us to destroy the planet, we will need you to disable the planet’s forcefield—” The alien Janus started, but Logan held up a finger.

“Excuse you,” he said sharply. “We have not agreed to do anything, least of all help you murder a billion people whose only crime is to have accidentally turned up in your prison. Have you even attempted to solve that mystery?"

"And why do you care what happens down there?" Roman added, sneering. "If the insane Daleks are armed—”

“DALEKS ARE ALWAYS ARMED,” the white Dalek proclaimed.

“—then why can’t they defend themselves?” Logan finished, shooting Roman a questioning glance.

Roman huffed, and looked away.

“At first they did,” the Janus explained. “But as I said, the automated systems cannot keep up with the influx. Wars are being fought over food and other resources as we speak. A starliner crashed on the surface mere days ago, and—”

“Ah,” Logan said slowly. “You’re afraid, with all the shifting alliances and new activity, that the mad Daleks will escape in the confusion.”

“We do not know who or what is behind the influx,” the Janus said. “But eventually, they will start coming with ships, or they will build them on the surface, or reach out to those who could attempt a rescue.”

“‘If sssomeone can get in, everything can get out’,” their Janus quoted darkly.

The other Janus nodded. “Even the Daleks agree, their mad brethren cannot be allowed to escape. We, of this assembly—”

They waved to the assembled crowd of aliens, who observed in eerie silence.

“—have decided that one planet must be sacrificed for the greater good of the universe.”

Roman slowly and deliberately drew his sword (which the Imagination had kindly left as part of his outfit). It rasped as it emerged, the sound hair-raising in the sudden lull.

Instantly every Dalek gunstick and alien weapon on the ship was primed and pointed at the four Sides.

“And if we refuse?” Roman said evenly.

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL COOPERATE,” the Supreme Dalek warned, its lights flashing balefully.

“COOPERATE! COOPERATE!” the cry was echoed by the other Daleks, filling the ship with a cacophony of robot voices.

The alien Janus shrugged, spreading their hands.

“You don’t really have a choice. If you want to live, that is.”

“Is that so.”

Roman tensed and sprang at the white Dalek, not giving himself time to think. He dodged a blast from its gunstick and leaped, bringing his sword down hard. This being the Imagination, the katana cut through the Dalek’s metal armor like butter, and it clattered to the deck in two pieces.

There was a shocked silence…but no retaliation.

“Well?” Roman shouted, spreading his arms and turning in a slow circle. “This is me, not cooperating. What are you waiting for? Are you really going to shoot us?”

If they all died on this spaceship…the worst that would happen is they’d be kicked from the Imagination, and that was what they wanted, anyway.

“Roman,” Logan warned quietly, pointing.

Roman looked.

The white Dalek’s shell was…laughing?

“Oh, Roman,” Remus’s crackly voice emerged from the fallen Dalek’s casing. “Roman, Roman, Roman. My poor brave brother who thinks he can solve all his problems with steel and bravado. Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Each word bit like sandpaper against Roman’s ears.

He growled, and stalked to the Dalek’s top half, snatching it up and quickly locating a tiny speaker.

“C’mon, Remus. End this stupid charade,” he said quietly, holding the casing to his face so he could speak quietly. “You’ve had your fun at my expense. Go back to your pile of severed limbs and gloat if you must, but end this. For Patton’s sake, if nothing else.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s out of my hands,” Remus responded; typically, annoyingly casual. “If you want to end the game, you have to come down here and find me.”

Roman exhaled, resting his head against the cold, bumpy metal for a moment. His eyes burned, but he was Prince; he wouldn’t cry, not here.

“Why must you make everything difficult?”

“Roman, in all seriousness,” Remus’s voice dropped. “I didn’t know you were taking Logan on a date tonight—”

“It’s not a date,” Roman hissed, glancing at the other Sides…one in particular.

“The Imagination brought me into this without asking, just like it pulled the others in,” Remus went on. “I am aware of what has to happen, but I did not cause this.”

“You’re lying,” Roman said tonelessly.

Remus’s whiny voice grew hard.

“I don’t lie, and you despise that about me. You hide so much shit from yourself that it baffles you when I refuse to do the same.”

“Look,” Remus added when Roman didn’t respond. “The Imagination is clearly trying to get our attention. Sure, it usually goes through one of us first, but it doesn’t have to. When it comes down to it, Thomas’s mind answers only to Thomas. ”

“How are you so sure?” Roman frowned.

Was Remus seriously suggesting the Imagination they both oversaw had gone rogue somehow?

“Because I don’t curate my side as meticulously as you do, brother.” Remus chuckled. “I listen. I let the Imagination do as she pleases, free from all those pesky ethics and morals and other boring boxes you always force her into, so that our sweet Thomas doesn’t fear the contents of his own head.”

“You expect me to believe that you know what’s going on because,” Roman let every ounce of disdain seep into his voice, “the Imagination talks to you, and not me…because you don’t make her behave?”

“You should try letting her loose sometimes,” Remus drawled, “or you’ll end up with a cane up your butt like Nerdy Wolverine over there.”

“Don’t call him that,” Roman spat.

“What you so-called ‘light sides’ always get wrong,” Remus went on, “is that the juicy stuff, the gruesome and grim, the ‘bad’ thoughts that filter up from the subconscious; they can’t all be locked away and ignored.” His voice dropped ominously. “Repression can be very bad indeed, you know.”

Roman’s reasonable nature knew that his brother, despite his infuriating attitude, was actually making some good points. Thomas had been dealing with a lot lately; the tension in the mindspace felt like a ticking clock, counting down to the next disaster.

But at that moment, Roman had no desire to humor his twin.

All he wanted to do was lock himself into his own room in the Dream Palace and spend the rest of the night writing sad poetry about love, or listing his mistakes to himself until he fell asleep.

“I just wanted to show Logan a good time,” he said aloud.

“And oh dear, apparently you couldn’t even manage that correctly,” Remus said, implacably. “So maybe you should use this opportunity to get your head out of your poopy ass, and reevaluate yourself.”

Roman slammed the Dalek shell against the floor.

It cracked upon impact, the wiring inside sparking and finally flickering down to darkness. He ran his hands through his hair, reminded, once again, why he hated talking to his brother.

Like looking in a funhouse mirror…

“Roman…” Patton sidled up behind him, laying a cold hand on his back. Roman shoved the metal arm away and stalked back to the others.

“Let’s just get this done,” he said in a low voice.

“You will need these,” the alien Janus said, pushing a button on a nearby console. A translucent vertical tube rose from a gap in the floor, holding three bulky black bracelets.

“Ah yes, I remember this,” Logan said, striding forward and taking a bracelet.

“They will prevent—” the Janus started.

“The nano cloud from converting us into Dalek puppets, yes?” Logan interrupted, snapping the bracelet onto his wrist and handing another to Roman.

The nerd is getting into this, Roman thought as he put it on. I guess that’s something.

“The cloud is only active in certain areas of the asylum,” the Janus warned them again. “And those change as different factions seize control of different areas and weaponize them.”

Patton hesitantly raised a hand.

“Um, Mx. Alien, I can’t help but notice that there are only three bracelets, and four of us?”

Logan frowned. “But Patton, why would you—?”

“I’m sure it’s because I’m part snake, Patton,” Janus interrupted smoothly, swooping in to grab the last bracelet and snapping it onto Patton’s arm.

Roman exchanged an alarmed look with Logan; that was the last bit of confirmation he needed. Patton really was unaware that he was a Cyberman.

But why on earth would Janus go to such lengths to keep him in the dark about it? Even leaving aside the fact that Patton was a walking weapon; being a machine, he didn’t need protection from the nano cloud at all.

Whereas Janus…probably did.

But when Roman opened his mouth, Janus shot him a look full of daggers and promises of pain, and shook his head. Roman rolled his eyes and mentally washed his hands of the situation.

Typical Deceit. Protecting his lies.

At least Patton would be twice-protected. If the snake wanted to risk his life for a lie, let him.

“The gravity beam will convey you close to the crashed starliner,” the alien Janus said, and then there were Dalek blasters being shoved into their backs, propelling them toward the hole in the floor.

“Oi,” Roman protested, “get your freaky little eggbeater appendages away from me, you AAAAHHHH!”

There was a push, and they were falling.

Chapter 7- Oxygen

“Look at this. Classic design. Pressure seals. Hinges. None of that ‘shuk shuk’ nonsense.”

“Space doors are supposed to go shuk shuk.”

“Are you gonna be like this all day?”

Janus was done.

He sat up with a groan, brushing snow from his jacket and vest, making sure his hat and gloves were still in place. Everything ached. Bad enough he never wanted to be part this stupid dream game in the first place; now he was probably going to literally turn into a Dalek.

All because the Imagination is being a dick and Patton doesn’t know he’s a killer robot.

Wind gusted around him, making Janus glad that the Master, like the Doctor, usually preferred long sleeves and a coat. He stood, turning in a slow circle as he took in the lay of the land. Nothing but snow and rocks; true to the episode, still.

The gravity beam had split into four as it hurled them at the planet, but Janus was reasonably sure at least one of the others had landed nearby.

He hoped it was Patton.

Not because he was concerned or anything. It was just that either of the others would be absolutely insufferable company, that’s all.

“Janus!” a metallic voice called, and Janus breathed a sigh of relief.

Patton’s Cyberman body clattered awkwardly down a nearby snowbank, sliding the last few feet to land in a heap.

“It is all kinds of chilly down here.” Patton stood, and waved rather nonsensically. “Hullo there, Janus, so ice to see you.”

Janus rolled his eyes. (He would deny to his dying day that the corner of his mouth twitched at the ridiculous pun.)

“If this scenario is consistent with its source material,” he said, gesturing to the closest ridge, “there should be an escape pod from that crashed ship nearby. Come on.”

He set off across the snow, Patton following in his wake.

“Say, what do snowmen call their offspring?”

Janus exhaled carefully. Hoo, boy, maybe Logan wouldn’t have been so bad…

“I haven’t the faintest.”

“Chill-dren!” Patton chortled at Janus’s grimace. “What did one snowman say to another?”

“St. Genesius spare me,” Janus grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What, pray tell, did one snowman say to another?”

“‘Do you smell carrots?’”

Janus quickly covered his mouth.

“You smiled,” Patton crooned.

“I most certainly did not.”

“Okay, okay, one more.” Patton scurried ahead and turned around, so that he was walking backwards. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” Janus said flatly.

“Snow.” Patton hooked his thumbs into the metal rim at waist, like one might on a pair of pants. Janus swallowed and looked away.

“Snow who?”

“Snow laughing matter, Janus, I don’t know why you’re smiling.”

Janus snorted before he could hide it, and cleared his throat.

“I am not smiling, how dare you.”

“That’s twice now!” Patton cackled, the sound coming out all distorted. “Admit it.”

“I refuse,” Janus said, drawing himself up. “You won’t make a liar out of….”

Liar.

He felt the joke fall flat and cringed. Even though Patton’s metal face couldn’t react, those metal shoulders visibly stiffened.

Too soon.

Liar.

Too much history between them.

Besides, you are a liar, his mind whispered. Lies of omission are still lies, Deceit, and you’re doing that right now.

Janus gritted his teeth. They topped a ridge; the expected escaped pod lay half-buried near another ridge, across a flat stretch of snow. The two Sides glanced at each other and continued their journey in silence.

Patton seemed disinclined to continue his little pun war.

Janus badly wanted to say he hadn’t minded the punning, but truthfully, keeping silent was easier. Patton’s baffling ignorance over the state of his own “flesh” was starting to wear on Janus’s conscience. He knew the longer he kept it secret, the worse the fallout would be when Patton finally learned the truth.

The urge to come clean was an unfamiliar one for him, and extremely uncomfortable.

Ironic, the master liar, conflicted about maintaining a lie.

The old him would have laughed, but…the old him hadn’t heard the sincerity in Patton’s voice, when he’d spoken Janus’s true name aloud for the first time. The old him had assumed Thomas would reject him forever…because of Patton.

And then, with Janus still smarting from the sting of Roman’s mockery, Patton had said his name.

Patton had trusted him to take care of Thomas in his stead, when the moral Side knew he had failed at it. The memory still made all Janus’s scales tingle and his heart beat a little sideways.

The new him…this him…couldn’t find it in his small, shriveled, but very much present heart to risk pushing Patton away.

They reached the pod.

Muffled shouts and something that sounded like blaster fire filtered up from inside, making them exchange another glance.

Janus set a hand on the ice-crusted latch.

“Remember, we’ll have to fight our way through a bunch of dead Dalek puppets,” he reminded Patton.

“That’s a lot of noise for just a few puppets,” Patton said softly. “That canonically shouldn’t even be awake yet.”

“I know, and that is strange,” Janus agreed. “Maybe someone got here before us. But we won’t know exactly what to expect until we get down there.”

Patton sighed, a cloud of frost puffing out of his small, rectangular mouth.

Janus pushed the latch, popped his head in, and was met with a scene of utter chaos.

About six or seven human-Dalek puppets, with stalks sticking out of their heads and blasters sticking out of their hands, were locked in a fire fight with a horde of robotic humanoids that looked like they came from the Fourth Doctor’s era, if Janus remembered correctly. Round, bulky shoulders and faces that looked like metal sunbursts.

Both puppets and robots were using the seats as cover, blaster fire zinging back and forth and exploding against the walls in little showers of sparks. Janus and Patton would be directly in the blast zone when they jumped down, a little closer to the robot side.

“Well, someone definitely got here before us,” Janus muttered.

He withdrew his head and studied Patton. Honestly, with his metal body he’d be in far less danger, and those guns in his arms would actually be useful in this situation…but telling Patton he was a walking weapon, now, would definitely not go over well.

“The hatch down into the asylum should be in the cockpit of this thing,” he informed Patton. “There’s a lot of blaster fire, though, so—”

“—don’t get cold feet and hesitate?” Patton finished.

Something in Janus’s heart twisted…something he didn’t dare examine too closely.

“Say, Patton,” he said softly, looking away.

“Yes?”

“What did the hat say to the scarf?”

Patton turned his black Cyberman eyes on Janus.

“What?”

“‘You hang around, and I’ll go a-head’.” Janus let a smirk curl his lips.

Patton was silent for a moment, but then he began to giggle, covering his mouth.

Janus pulled out his sonic laser.

He dropped into the pod with a swing of his legs, catching one of the robots in its metal chest. It fell with a screech, careening into another of its kind, but by then Janus had gained his feet and ducked behind a seat. Patton clattered down behind, with less grace and far more noise…and a random Tivolian tumbled in directly after him.

Patton caught the rodent-faced alien with a startled shout, immediately dropping them again when they screamed and struggled. Janus blinked; where the hell did they come from?

The Tivolian tumbled across the pod’s floor, only making it a few feet before getting cut down with blaster bolts. Janus saw Patton cry out, and caught the Side before he could leap out and draw more hostile fire.

“It’s too late!” he shouted over the noise.

“I should have hung on!” Patton, if he’d had a proper face, would probably be in tears. He hated death. “I don’t know why they were so scared of me!”

Janus could answer that…

“I’m more curious about where they came from,” he said instead, frowning. “They surely weren’t up on the surface with us. It’s like they just teleported in, but Tivolians don’t teleport. They don’t have the technology—”

A blaster bolt exploded across the top of the seat they were hiding behind, showering them in sparks and forcing them both to duck.

“Janus!” Patton snapped. “We need to get out of here!”

“Right.” Janus brandished his sonic. “We’ll just have to run for it.”

He leaped out, activating his weapon, and discovered that a sonic laser had a very satisfying range and kickback. Forget the Doctor’s screwdriver, he thought, blasting a Dalek puppet aside and ducking another gun blast. I wonder if the Imagination will let me keep this…

A cold, dead hand seized the collar of his jacket, yanking him back.

Then there was a yell, a clatter, and Janus turned in time to see Patton blast a puppet with a fire extinguisher. The moral Side chuckled at Janus’s shocked expression.

“I’ve seen this episode too, you know,” he pointed out.

Janus huffed.

The two dodged and fought their way to the cockpit; Janus used his laser to seal the door behind them. For a moment they simply stood there, catching their breath.

(Well, Janus caught his. Did Patton even breathe, in that form?)

“Unauthorized personnel may not enter the cockpit.” Remus’s high-pitched voice came over the speaker system. “Unless it’s an actual pit full of cocks, in which case, where’s my invitation?”

Janus was going to need something a lot stronger than tea, once they finally got out of this mess.

“Remus, for god’s sake,” he grumbled.

“God has nothing to do with my cock, but if that’s how you want to roll…” One of the cockpit screens flickered to life, and there was Remus in all his ruffly, sparkly, mustached glory. Clara’s warm, messy cove spread out behind him, reds and yellows clashing horribly with the green of his sash.

Janus moved so that his chest and shoulders blocked the screen, to prevent Remus from catching sight of Patton. If Remus saw Patton as a Cyberman, Janus would never be able to convince him to keep his mouth shut.

“All right then, where do we find you?” Janus said. “And where did the others land? Not to mention our dear missing ball of anxiety.” He leaned forward, putting on his trademark smirk. “Come on, Re. You must know. One Other to another, you can tell me.”

“Aww, Jan Jan,” Remus crooned, also leaning forward. “You care.”

“I most certainly do not!” Janus sputtered, and cleared his throat. “Patton was worried about Virgil, that’s all.”

“I was?” Patton asked from the other side of the space. “I mean, of course I am, but—”

“But surely you can at least tell us why this scenario isn’t playing out quite like the episode it comes from,” Janus interjected smoothly. He didn’t want Remus to notice the metallic quality of Patton’s voice.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve already told you everything that I know.” Remus shrugged. “Roman really did give the Imagination too much freedom.”

Janus frowned.

“Then how do you know the scenario will end when we find you?”

“I actually don’t! Isn’t it great?” Remus crowed, clapping his hands. “I love stories where anything could happen. We could all get vaporized, or have our flesh eaten by—”

“Remus, focus.” Janus pitched the bridge of his nose. “So, given what we know of this particular episode, you’re assuming that our main tasks are to come get you, and to drop the forcefield on the planet so the Daleks can blow it up.”

“That’s the idea, Double Dee!”

Behind him, Janus heard Patton make a weird, choked noise, and grimaced.

“By the way, Roman and Logan are already inside the asylum.” Remus grinned, the whites of his eyes flashing. “So if you want to catch up, you’d better scute those scaly asscheeks along. Check the floor for a breach; that will be your way out. A breach, ha! Like a butth—”

Janus pointed his laser and fired on the screen, cutting the transmission and sending sparks flying all over the cockpit. An awkward silence fell in which he turned to face Patton, who of course wore no visible expression.

This, and all the reasons for it, annoyed him further.

“I swear if you ask one question about scutes or scales,” he warned, holding up a finger.

“I wasn’t…going to.” Patton held up his hands. “Logan kind of taught us how to tune out the more, er, naughty things Remus says. But I am wondering,” he added hesitantly. “Are you…feeling okay?”

“Fabulous. Peachy,” Janus said flatly, kneeling to feel around on the floor. “Fantastic, allons-y, geronimo, what have you.”

“It’s just, you seem a little angry,” Patton went on. “And you remember, that’s, that’s the first step in being converted. Maybe you should wear the bracelet for a while? We can trade on and off…”

Patton’s fingers went to his wrist, but Janus stopped him with a gloved hand on top.

Tell him, an inner voice whispered. Tell him now, before this gets any more awkward.

“That’s sweet of you, but no, I’m merely frustrated,” Janus admitted. “I would very much like to get out of here, so I can return to the pleasant evening I was having before all thisss.”

He gestured irritatedly around them.

Patton joined him on the floor and together they found a person-sized hole, with a rope ladder hanging down.

“Hey, Janus,” Patton murmured, as they were about to start the long climb down. “Can I ask you something?”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to ask no matter what I say?” Janus said wryly.

“Do you remember when that puppet attacked you in the main part of the ship, and I fought it off with the fire extinguisher?” Patton ducked his head.

Janus raised an eyebrow.

“They hesitated, when they saw me.” Patton’s unnaturally black eyes met Janus’s. “That’s why I had time to grab the extinguisher.”

Janus swallowed, his heart starting to pound.

“Well, I’m sure they aren’t used to anyone fighting back—”

“No, they hesitated like…like I scared them or something,” Patton pressed. “It was weird, Janus. Please. If there’s something you need to tell me…you know you can.”

Janus’s mouth compressed into a flat line and he looked away, bitterness welling up inside him.

“Can I, Patton?” he asked softly, holding up a gloved hand. A yellow indictment of everything he was. “Can I really?”

Patton sighed, long and deep.

“Touché.”

Chapter 8- Extremis

“Something’s coming. And I’m blind. How can I see them when I’m lost in the dark?”

Logan awoke to someone shaking him.

He opened his eyes to an expanse of blurry blobs and color splotches, and Roman’s sharp, frantic face very close to his. His eyes have amber flecks, his brain noted inanely. But why is he clear when nothing else is…?

Roman threw his head back and exhaled in obvious relief when Logan groaned, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

“Singing chimeras, Specs, I was starting to worry.”

Logan sat up and touched his bare face. Ah, there’s the problem.

“Where are my glasses?”

Roman was quiet.

Logan leaned closer to the other Side, squinting. Bad eyesight was such an annoyance. If only Thomas’s developing brain hadn’t decided early on that “smart and logical” also meant “stereotypically nerdy”, and pigeonholed his own sense of Logic into actually requiring corrective eyewear.

“Roman?” Logan tried again.

“Um. About that.”

Roman bit his lip, and handed over a smashed set of frames. Logan’s stomach sank as he examined them; the lenses were shattered beyond repair.

“I found them next to you like that, when I woke up,” Roman explained. “I’ve been trying to summon another pair, but for some reason the Imagination won’t let me!”

Logan pushed down a growing sense of dread, that he’d have to navigate the rest of this adventure half-blind.

“My glasses getting broken is obviously not your fault. We did fall down a rather deep hole,” he pointed out. “But what do you mean, the Imagination isn’t letting you?”

“I mean it’s not letting me!” Roman threw up his hands. “I could summon things on the TARDIS just fine, but now…” He sighed. “I am Creativity, right?”

Logan tilted his head and frowned.

“Is that…Roman, that is a nonsensical question. Of course you are.”

“So summoning a tiny object in my own dream scenario should be easy.” Roman hung his head.

“How long have you been trying?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe?” Roman shrugged, still not looking at him. “All that time, and yet still I fail.”

Logan resisted the urge to point out that twenty minutes should be long enough to realize a thing might be outside of one’s control, and to start brainstorming other options.

Stubborn fool.

“Maybe it’s just as well we picked the wedding over the callback,” Roman added darkly, an uncharacteristic glower twisting his face. “When Thomas’s Creativity apparently can’t even control his own dreams.”

Oh…this isn’t about glasses at all, is it? Logan swallowed around an achy sensation in his chest; the one he always got when something was wrong and Roman made that face and he just…needed to fix it.

Native English speakers have a passive vocabulary of around forty thousand words, he thought, frustrated. So why, in situations like this, am I constantly struggling to find the right thing to say?

The resigned set to Roman’s jaw prompted Logan to try.

“Your inability to summon things may not be your doing,” Logan said, laying a hand on Roman’s knee. “Perhaps the Imagination is attempting to impose a sense of realism on this adventure.”

“Realism,” Roman echoed flatly. “In Doctor Who.”

Logan huffed. “You must admit, summoning objects out of thin air does defy even time-traveling alien logic.”

Roman’s face twitched in the tiniest of smiles. “So why did it work before, Teach?”

“Maybe it only worked on the TARDIS because the ship already defies every known rule of physics.” Logan shrugged. “I admit I cannot possibly intuit the inner workings of the Imagination; I can only theorize from what I have observed thus far.”

Roman chuckled softly to himself, and bumped Logan’s shoulder.

“Aww, Nerd, I’m touched. You’re trying to logic me into feeling better.”

“Is it…working?” Logan asked.

“Kind of?” An unreadable expression flitted over Roman’s face. “At least one of us is still grounded in reality.”

“Where else could one possibly be grounded?”

Roman laughed outright at this.

“Oh, Logan. Never change, okay?”

He stood up, and pulled Logan to his feet as well.

“Where are we?” Logan asked, squinting.

He could tell they were in some large, open space; all blacks and browns and dull grays. Blurry domes of copper were scattered amongst what could be bits of fallen scaffolding or machinery.

Logan was also hyperaware of Roman’s warm arm pressed against his, and his own hand clasped tightly within the Prince’s larger grip. With everything else blurry, physical sensations were all the more distracting.

“Don’t panic, okay?” Roman started.

Logan scoffed.

“You are fortunate that I am not Virgil,” he commented wryly. “Because starting a sentence like that would almost certainly have caused him to panic.”

“Well, it’s just, do you remember that scene in the Dalek asylum episode where Rory wakes up in the hanger full of dead Daleks who turn out to be not actually dead?” Roman said in a rush. “Because…yeah.”

Oh. Logan swallowed.

“So, I am guessing that those copper domes are actually Daleks?” he said softly.

Roman snorted.

“Copper domes? Jeesh, your eyesight sucks.”

“I am aware,” Logan said flatly. “Which means you will have to guide us out. If I remember correctly, as long as we are quiet and don’t kick any pipes on the ground, we won’t wake them up.”

Roman let go of Logan’s hand… and replaced it with an arm wrapped around his waist. Logan only held back a squeak because it would have been extremely undignified.

“Hey, relax, I got you, Specs.” Roman’s breath ghosted over Logan’s ear. The Prince’s shorter stature allowed him to fit snugly against Logan’s side; if Roman turned his head, he could comfortably tuck his face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

Not…not that Logan imagined him doing any such thing.

Roman drew his sword with a metallic rasp, prompting Logan to pull out his screwdriver, and they set off across the floor.

It was a strange, vulnerable sensation, Logan thought, being this close to another, being forced to rely on him for direction…or maybe it was just that Roman’s Rose Tyler outfit left so much more skin on display than his usual royal attire…

To be fair, Roman’s bare arms and short skirt and leggings were the only non-blurry things in Logan’s line of sight at the moment.

“You know, I am not sure how much good a sword will do against a Dalek now,” Logan said dryly (to distract himself). “Since it would seem that the Imagination is now attempting to be realistic.”

“It’ll be a lot more useful than a screwdriver,” Roman retorted. “Honestly, the War Doctor had a point. The later seasons really do start to treat the sonic like a weapon, and it looks ridiculous. There’s an oily-looking puddle to your left.”

They dodged around it.

“The sonic screwdriver is an ingenious, multipurpose tool,” Logan argued. “Fitting for a character who is, at heart, a pacifist. In the right hands, it most certainly could serve as a weapon. For example one could scramble a Cyberman’s circuits, short out fuses, or calculate the precise amount of blunt force needed to take down an enemy.” Logan waved the hand with the screwdriver around them. “All things that a sword could not accomplish.”

“Sure,” Roman drawled, leading them around one of the still, silent Daleks, “but you don’t point a sonic at an oncoming Dalek and expect to survive. Even the Doctor had more sense than to try that. At least a sword could cut off its blaster arm.”

“We don’t know how strong Dalek amor is down here,” Logan pointed out. “You could end up breaking your sword and then where would we be?”

“Better off than we’d be while you assembled a cabinet at them!”

Logan’s foot collided with a metallic something that made an awful CLANG and went skittering across the floor. Roman pulled them up short, his face going pale.

All around them, round blue lights began to flicker on, one by one.

“I kicked the pipe, didn’t I?” Logan said, his heart starting to pound.

“You kicked the pipe,” Roman confirmed in a sick voice.

“EGGS…!” a crackly Dalek voice next to them stuttered, making them jump. “EG-EG-EG-EGGS…!” Its twin lights flashed erratically as it spoke.

“Roman,” Logan started.

“‘Eggs, you may laugh and that’s great…’” Roman sang in a wavering voice. “‘Your smiles are what make my day’…”

The Dalek rolled toward them creakily. “EEEEEGGS!”

Logan’s breathing sped up. Another Dalek rolled in from the other side, causing him to stumble. All around them, mechanical creaks and groans and a chorus of digitized voices rose up…

“EG…EG-EGGS…TERM…”

“Roman, I believe we need to run.” Logan could see the Dalek almost clearly now, its eyestalk glowing, its gunstick rising up.

“…IN…ATE…”

Blurry, flashing lights closed in.

“‘My self-worth’s fragile like an egg,’” Roman sang. The hand gripping Logan’s middle tightened painfully. “‘When it breaks it’s tough to put together again…’”

“EX…TERM…IN…ATE!”

“Roman!” Logan shouted. “Get us out of here!”

“EXTERMINATE!”

A blaster bolt warbled past and exploded over their heads.

Roman shuddered and seemed to snap out of it, seizing Logan’s arm and pulling him so hard he nearly fell. Logan staggered, hanging onto Roman’s hand for dear life as they ran, and ran, and blaster bolts burst at their feet and shattered around them.

“This way, boys and boys,” Remus’s voice sing-singed across the room. Roman yanked them hard in that direction.

“REMUS!” Roman shouted as they ran, and Logan was impressed he had the breath for it. “Remus, you better open that door like you’re supposed to or we are DEAD!”

“Oh, keep your pants on, brother,” Remus snarked, sounding a little closer. “Although maybe Logan would prefer that you didn’t—”

Whatever else he said wasn’t audible over a hanger full of jabbering Daleks and firing blasters.

They reached a wall and Roman shoved Logan down.

“Straight ahead, crawl. Go, go, go!” he said, turning and brandishing his sword.

Bless that Prince and his stupid, stupid bravery.

Logan went, nearly tripping over his coat as he crawled under the barely lifted hatch door. Once he was past the threshold Roman flung himself under and through, knocking into Logan and sending them both sliding across the floor.

There was a hiss and a heavy thud that Logan hoped was the door shutting behind them, and finally, blessed silence. They both leaned against the wall for a moment, catching their breath.

Roman thunked his head back.

“Jesus Christ Superstar,” he muttered.

“Your welcome.”

Remus’s voice crackled through the hallway. Roman growled and sat up straighter, looking around as if his brother would magically appear.

“I did just save your lives,” Remus added. From the direction of the sound, Logan guessed he was talking through a speaker somewhere on the far wall.

“Yeah, and I’m still gonna whip your butt when this is all over,” Roman groused.

“Oooh, do I get to choose the instrument?”

Roman sputtered, but Logan grabbed his arm before he could yell back.

“You know he just likes to get under your skin,” he murmured, and raised his voice. “Thank you for opening the door, Remus. We are grateful for your help.”

There was a silence on the other end, with a quality that Logan would have described as shocked.

“Well. You two lovebirds better move along,” Remus drawled finally, shrill as ever. “Before the Silurian army shows up.”

“Excuse me, the WHAT?” Logan exclaimed.

No answer.

“Remus!” Roman clambered to his feet and helped Logan up.

Nothing.

Except now that Logan was listening for it, he definitely heard approaching footsteps and murmuring, heavily-accented voices. And they were getting closer.

“That dick,” Roman grumbled through gritted teeth.

“To be fair, I think he is trying to help,” Logan pointed out. “In his own way.”

“Don’t be fair to my brother when he’s just led us out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“We are neither in a pan nor on fire, Roman; I have never understood that saying—”

The lights dimmed and flashed an eerie purple; Roman silenced him with a hand over his mouth. There was a voice…not Remus’s, not alien, not like anything Logan had ever heard. It chanted something, over and over again, before fading out.

The lights flared back to normal.

Logan waited, counting Roman’s shallow breaths against his neck.

Nothing.

“What was that?” he asked softly.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Roman responded. “But I guess that’s our cue to go. Stay close, Mr. Magoo.”

Logan grumbled, but allowed Roman to recapture his hand and lead them in the opposite direction of the approaching footsteps…which had resumed the moment the purple light vanished.

Next time Roman asked him to come on an adventure, he was bringing a spare set of glasses.

[scullydubois]

Only the Light (ch. 3)

Description: Missy moves in with Scully post-One Breath/Scully’s abduction. In this chapter, Scully goes through her morning routine and gets a surprise...

part 1 here. part 2 here. tagging @today-in-fic​.

“Only the Light” won the poll, so it’s now the official title! Yay! Thank you for voting and thanks for all the feedback--I love your comments. This part is the longest yet (and the best imo)--enjoy!! 

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

She floats outstretched through the sky as if it were the community pool she and Missy used to frequent as children. She tilts her face toward the sun, feels the warmth of it washing over her. Her eyes reflect the brilliant blue sky, mini-oceans in themselves. Her back is to the city, and she’s so high up she can’t hear one bit of the noise on the ground. She hopes this is what heaven is like. If this is heaven, she has nothing to fear. 

And then she’s falling, a casualty of gravity. Hell has found her. It always does. This is an unfortunate truth she must live with. The sky races past her and there’s a pit in her stomach so deep she thinks she must be breaking the laws of physics, her body stretching like a rubber band about to snap. Surely she is not a human being anymore. Surely she won’t be by the end of this.

The ground hurdles toward her. She can’t see it, but she knows. She wonders what shape they will find her in, or if she will even be found. She hopes for her family’s sake that she’s in so many pieces they can’t put her back together. It’s easier, she thinks, when the body doesn’t look human. Burying a radiant-looking thirty year old is sad. Burying a mangled mess of a corpse is a relief. 

As if on cue, her alarm chirps. She awakes in one piece and punches the alarm, reality whisking away the horror of her dreams. Sweat saturates her silk pajamas, leaving a morning dew of sorts on her sheets. The blankets were thrown off at some point during the night. She does not remember doing this, so she can only assume it was the work of the demonic force in her brain.

Waking up in a puddle of her own sweat has become commonplace since she was returned. The first time the heat was so stifling she thought she must have had a fever that broke, but the mercury thermometer in her bathroom said otherwise. Her body seems to have a mind of itself these days. 

For the time being, her mind is still functioning, so she pulls herself out of bed to get ready for work. This routine part of her day is a privilege she relishes. Very rarely does she get to function on autopilot.

It goes like this: first, she slips off her pajamas and changes her underwear. It is at this point without fail that she realizes she hasn’t bought a new pantyset in years, and wouldn’t it be nice if she did? This mental note slips away by the time she buttons her suit jacket and tucks her undershirt into her slacks.

Next, she switches on the bathroom light and performs the typical tasks of self-care--brushing her teeth, washing her face, and whatnot-- that some might find tedious or annoying. For Scully, they are soothing. She spends too much time thinking about aliens and not enough thinking about herself. She’s not sure she believes in either, but god, it would be nice to try. 

Veering close to the latest possible time at which she could still expect to beat DC traffic to the office, she brushes her hair (no time for a hundred strokes), dabs some concealer under her eyes, and swipes on her favorite lipstick. No need to go all out; she knows where she stands.

Finally, she opens her closet and stares at the rack of heels. They’re uncomfortable and damn inconvenient for an FBI agent, but Mulder’s tall and she is not. She had a fraction of her current pairs before she met Mulder. No coincidence. 

She chooses the tallest pair she owns because she needs the confidence boost. They’re headed to a nursing home in Massachusetts today, so hopefully there will be no running in the woods involved. 

She click-click-clicks down the hallway. The scent of strong coffee permeates the air. She turns the corner, and there’s her sister with a pot of coffee and two plates of scrambled eggs. It is seven o’clock in the morning, and they were up at 3am last night. The last thing Scully expects is for her sister to be cognizant, let alone to have cooked. 

“Good morning sunshine.” Missy slides a plate over to Scully’s usual spot at the table and pours the piping hot coffee into a ‘Kiss Me, I’m A Doctor’ mug. 

Scully pinches herself. No, she’s not dreaming. This is too happy to be one of her dreams anyways.

“This is a surprise,” she says as she takes a seat at the table.

“Well, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 5:30. I figured it’s been awhile since someone’s cooked you breakfast.”

Scully takes a sip of the coffee. 

“I don’t even cook myself breakfast.”

“Exactly.”

Melissa tops off Scully’s mug. 

“Is it strong enough? I couldn’t drink mine without adding about a half a cup of milk, so I figured I must be doing something right.”

Scully is so grateful to be waited on that it could be a milkshake and she wouldn’t complain. It is strong enough though, stronger than the milk and sugar mixture someone calls coffee at the FBI. 

“It’s perfect,” she says, meaning it.

“Good. I saw the end of that movie, by the way. You were right, it’s a real snoozefest.”

Scully laughs. “I actually like that movie. That’s why it helps me fall asleep.”

Missy scoffs. “They spend the entire movie pining over each other just for one chaste kiss at the end! Where’s the fun in that?”

“Probably shortly after that chaste kiss.”

Missy smirks, pleased that she’s gotten her sister to make a sex joke at seven o’clock in the morning. She softens her voice-- 

“I did want to talk to you, though.”

Scully finishes chewing the forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth. 

“I have to leave soon or I’ll be late.”

“Late for what? One of Mulder’s slideshows?”

Scully sits back. Maybe Missy has a point.

“I’m sure you’re tired of my questioning,” Missy says, “so I won’t ask you another thing. Say what you need to say.”

Say what you need to say. So simple, yet so powerful. It occurs to Scully that no one ever gives her this type of shameless permission. They shouldn’t have to, but she’s never been one to talk out of turn. What a relief to have the freedom to speak plainly. 

She exhales. She has spent the past weeks playing back the few memories she has of her disappearance--she won’t call it the other word--and trying to decipher what happened to her. She is no closer to figuring it out than she was when Mulder gave her necklace back, but it might help to share what she does remember.

She launches into it, her memories flowing out in one long stream.

“You know, when I was in the hospital, I kept having this vision that I was in a lifeboat. There was a rope tying it to the dock and on the dock were all the people I loved, the people that were around me. You and mom and Mulder and the nurses.”

Melissa listens sympathetically, shocked and relieved that her sister is opening up.

“But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything but sit there in that boat and hope that somehow, the tether wouldn’t snap.”

This is the most vulnerable Missy can remember seeing her sister since the passing of their father. There are a respected few who have witnessed Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her mind. It’s a rare honor to witness Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her heart. 

Scully continues.

“And then it did snap, and I had...I can only describe it as a near-death experience. Dad was there...He was in his uniform with all his medals and he told me that he loved me and—that we would be together again, but not yet.”

Missy nods along.

“So I guess...that kept me from going. That’s how I knew I had to stay.”

“Wow,” Missy breathes.

“From then on, I could hear everything you guys were saying. I heard you and mom telling me that I was below the criteria of my living will and I was trying to give you a sign…”

Her voice breaks. 

“I was so scared you would pull the plug on me.”

“Oh my god, Dana.” Missy engulfs her in a hug. “I am so sorry.”

Scully breathes into her sister’s neck. Her hair smells like the strawberry shampoo they used when they were children. She wonders if Missy still uses it, decides that now is not the time to bring that up. Instead, she lets go of the hug first.

“I started thinking, if I am below the criteria of my living will, maybe that’s the right thing to do. Maybe if I ever truly wake up, I’ll be so damaged I won’t be able to work for the FBI or have anything resembling a happy life.”

She sighs. “And you and mom said your goodbyes, and I was thankful, actually, that I got to hear them because so many people don’t and you just...never know with my profession.”

She bites her lip to keep from crying.

“And then sometime later I heard Mulder come in, and his wasn’t a goodbye. He touched my hand—I could feel it but I couldn’t respond—and he told me he was there. And I could feel his sadness, but I could also feel his hope. And that was all I needed, was hope.”

“He gave you the strength to wake up,” Missy says, partly as a question. 

“Or the courage to.”

Melissa considers this. She remembers how solemn she felt going to Fox’s apartment that night, delivering the news that her sister was weakening. This must be how nurses feel when they tell loved ones to say their goodbyes, she thought at the time. When he said he wasn’t able to go see Dana in the hospital, she was furious. How can you be so naive? she thought. Are you so afraid of pain you refuse to feel your own feelings? She realizes now this sounds like something she might say to her sister. 

Melissa decides not to mention her involvement in any of this. After all, she hadn’t succeeded in convincing Fox to go to the hospital. That was his own choice. Instead, she says--

“He was really looking out for you, you know. He was a soldier for your cause.”

The edges of Scully’s lips turn up the slightest bit.

“I don’t doubt it. Mulder is nothing if not a good soldier.”

Melissa thinks back on meeting Fox. She said that Dana had talked to her, that her soul was there. He didn’t believe her.

“Fox was exactly what you said he would be,” she tells her sister, “and somehow I was still surprised by the sheer force of his determination.”

Scully chuckles. 

“Well, I don’t exaggerate these things. If anything, I downplay them.”

“No kidding.”

Melissa wets her lips, letting silence rest comfortably at the table with them.

“You’re really lucky you know, to have him as a partner.”

Scully nods. 

“I know.”

And she does.

[snowdice]

Logan’s 25 Step Plan to Ask a Boy Out (Relabeled; Refiled Series)

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan/Patton

Characters: Logan, Patton, my self insert again, oops Lia(OC)

Summary:

“No! Logan look,” she said. “He likes you and you like him. You don’t need a list or a plan or schematics for this. Just walk up to him and ask him out before you hesitate so much that he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

How is Logan so good at, but simultaneously so bad at this?

This is a one-shot dealing with events set before my story Sometimes Labels Fail set a few months after The Things We Never Mentioned.

Notes: Superhero AU (doesn’t matter for this one... again), Logan being dumb but it the sweetest way possible.

This was supposed to come out later this week, but the mini fic I was writing to release today ended up... not being a mini fic. So, I shuffled around my release plans a bit and you get this now!

It was almost 3am and Logan was still in his office. He really should just go home. There was no way he and Lia were going to be able to solve this problem tonight. Lia wasn’t even looking at the problem on the chalkboard anymore, instead she had pressed the chalk against the board longways and was turning it slowly to make a fan shape on the board.

Logan took a drink of his room temperature coffee. “We could try integrating it.”

“No.”

“You’re probably right.” Logan tilted his head back and closed his eyes pretending to be deep in thought, but really he just let his brain drift. “Lia,” he said.

“Hmm?”

“Can I ask your advice on something not related to math.”

“Fucking please do.”

“It’s about Patton.”

She didn’t even pause. “My advice is, ask him out.”

Logan paused and opened his eyes to look at her. “Er well… Yes.”

She suddenly looked more awake than she had in hours. “No really? Yes! It’s about time!”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Your enthusiasm about my romantic interests is absurd… but useful in this specific case.”

She sat up straight and folded her hands in her lap like a particularly interested school child during story time. “Please continue.”

“I have decided that I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with Patton, and I am currently researching the best strategy to convince him of my adequacy as a prospective partner.”

“Research?” Lia asked. “Oh god, please tell me you didn’t made a list.”

“I am simply inquiring after your advice concerning rather you believe Patton would be more inclined to understand love language in poetry or flowers.”

“Logan you don’t need to prove your ‘adequacy’ or whatever. Just ask him out.”

“Certainly,” Logan said. “Flowers or poetry.”

“Logan you’re not listening,” Lia complained.

“I assure you I am. I’m even taking notes.” He turned the paper around for her to see.

“‘Lia does not seem to have an opinion on flowers or poetry. Seems to suggest a bold approach,’ Logan you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He sat back and flipped back a few pages in the notebook. “I have interviewed many people on the topic but seeing as you have actually met Patton in person, I thought your perspective would be useful despite the certain ridicule that would come from the question.”

“Logan please, please tell me you didn’t make a list.”

Logan didn’t reply. He had. He had made a list. He’d done more than just make a list. He’d created a whole new file designation specifically for Patton and Patton related things. He now had a light blue binder which contained the list as well as the drafts and research notes on matching light blue paper as well as a picture Patton had doodled on a napkin to give to him. What else was he supposed to do?

Over the past couple of months, he’d done research in the form of interviews as well as non-fiction and fiction reading, drafted the list, done more research, and edited the list. It still wasn’t good enough. He was missing something. He knew he was missing something, but he couldn’t figure it out. He was hoping Lia would be more helpful.

Clearly, he was mistaken as she just groaned. “Logan…”

“Never mind.”

“No! Logan look,” she said. “He likes you and you like him. You don’t need a list or a plan or schematics for this. Just walk up to him and ask him out before you hesitate so much that he thinks you don’t like him anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “Is that something that can happen.”

“Oh god, this is hopeless.”

“I was unaware of the possibility of a time limit on this assignment.”

“That’s not. No. That’s not what I’m saying Logan. Please don’t freak out. This isn’t homework!”

“I’m not freaking out Lia,” he said calmly even though his mind was racing.

“Logan, I know that look,” Lia said, “that’s the Logan’s pretending he’s okay, but he’s actually about to go and break down in a closet look.”

Logan waved her off and gathered up his bag. “Thank you for your input; you have given me a lot to think about.”

“No, please stop thinking!”

“I must go.”

 Logan had meant to finish editing his list the night before but had fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home from the office. He woke at around 10am with a sore neck. He looked at the list. He should switch task 7 and 8 he decided. He wrote out one more copy of the list with the edit and then stared at the list again. There were 25 list items the last one being to ask Patton on a date. It wasn’t perfect, but… perhaps it was good enough. He bit his lip. Some of the tasks would take more effort, but luckily Logan had already started working on preparations for the third step which was to express interests in things the subject found important. The first two steps were to express a desire to spend time with the subject and demonstrate an ability to notice the subject’s likes and dislikes. With the preparation he had done, he was certain he could get through the first three steps today.

Decided, he jumped to his feet. Patton often came to ‘The Hideout’ at around 11:30am for lunch on these days. If he moved fast, he might be able to catch him before-hand and ask him if he’d like to have lunch with him.

…

He should go take a shower and brush his teeth first.

After cleaning himself up and picking out one of his nicer casual outfits, he headed to the hospital. He wasn’t sure where to go, so he just headed to the admission area for the hospital emergency room. “Hello,” Logan said to the receptionist. “I was wondering if Patton Sanders has left for lunch yet.” The man behind the counter blinked at him. “He’s a surgeon here.”

“I know who he is,” he replied slowly. “I’ll um, go get someone to check.”

Logan nodded and stepped away from the counter. The receptionist walked away and then returned after a moment.

A few minutes later, Patton walked up to the reception desk from the other side looking rather confused. He spoke briefly to the receptionist who gestured to him. Patton turned, lighting up a bit when his eyes fell on him, though he still looked a bit confused. “Logan,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

Logan stepped back up to the reception desk. “I was wondering if you would like to have lunch. I know you usually go to ‘The Hideout’ and we end up eating together anyway, but you don’t always, and I wanted to intentionally make plans with you. It doesn’t have to be at ‘The Hideout’ either. Of course, only if you aren’t busy and you want to.”

“I do,” Patton said. “I do want to, uh, but,” he glanced behind himself back into the ER. “We’ve been pretty busy, and I don’t think I’ll be able to take a long enough lunch to go out. I was just going to grab a sandwich in the cafeteria.”

“That’s fine,” Logan said. “We can make plans for another day.”

Patton bit his lip. “You can join me in the cafeteria if you want,” he offered. “I’ll um, only have 15 minutes though and the food isn’t great.”

“15 minutes is fine,” Logan replied.

He smiled brightly at that. “Give me five minutes,” he requested.

“Of course,” Logan said. “I’ll just sit over there.” Patton dashed off. It was closer to 10 minutes, but Logan didn’t mind even when the receptionist kept giving him looks he couldn’t understand or when a few nurses stopped by to peer at him curiously from over the counter.

Patton was still wearing the doctor’s coat when he came back to the waiting room area. He smiled when he saw Logan and grabbed his arm to guide him to the elevator. The cafeteria was on the top floor of the hospital. Patton warned him off of getting the spaghetti and he ended up with a grilled cheese sandwich and soup while Patton just purchased a premade cold cut sandwich from one of the refrigerators.

The cafeteria was crowded at this time of day, but Patton directed him to a more secluded part of it. His eyes kept flashing at the clock, but he still smiled at Logan.

“It bought you a brownie,” Logan said pushing it at him. “I’m not sure of its quality compared to the ones at “The Hideout,” but I know it is your favorite dessert so hopefully it suffices.

He took the saran wrapped dessert with an almost startled expression. “Thank you,” he said and then looked back up at Logan. “It’s good to see you. I-I’ve had a stressful morning and was sad I wouldn’t be able to go out for lunch today. Thanks for being willing to eat down here with me.”

“I’m glad I decided to come today then. Thanks, are not necessary. I enjoy talking with you no matter the environment.”

A bit of a blush bloomed on Patton’s cheeks and he cleared his throat. “What would you like to talk about then?” he asked.

“How about,” Logan began, “antibody diversity and histocompatibility systems.”

A strange look crossed Patton’s face. “Did... Logan did you look up my research papers?”

“I,” he didn’t know why he felt compelled to blush. “Yes, I did. You don’t have a background in mathematics or physics so I thought I would investigate your interests so we could have something to talk about. They were very well written.”

A pause. “You read my research papers.”

“Yes,” he said. “There was a lot of terminology I had to look up, but I believe I have enough of a working knowledge to hold a conversation.”

“You,” he stopped and looked at Logan with an intense but achingly tender expression that figuratively stole Logan’s breath. It lasted for a long moment and Logan felt trapped by his gaze in the best way possible. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Logan replied breathlessly without even a thought. Patton gave him a dazzling smile and bit his lip, looking away slightly. Logan’s brain restarted once he wasn’t held captive by that strange look in Patton’s eye. Wait, wait, he’d had a plan! He’d just ruined the plan!

“So then,” Patton said somewhat bashful, “what would you want to do on the date.”

Logan scrambled to mentally scratch off 22 list items until he found the ideas he’d come up with for once he’d procured a date. It wasn’t an edited list yet, but at least it was something. He was glad he planned so far in advance. “Midtown park perhaps,” Logan suggested. “There is a small place that serves pasta and an ice cream shop nearby. We could have dinner and then walk through the park. You’ve mentioned that you enjoy ravioli and the restaurant I’m suggesting is well known for the dish according to three articles in two different newspapers in the last 18 months.”

Patton titled his head with a small smile. “You’ve put some thought into this haven’t you?” he asked.

“I…” Logan said, “tend to be a planner.”

Patton reached over to place his hand on Logan’s. “I’m glad,” he said. Logan turned his hand over so their fingers could lace together. They only had 7 minutes to eat once they remembered their food and it was quite bland, but Logan would surely never regret it.

Thanks for reading!

And with that, we are done with the prequel fics that had to come out before multi-chapter prequel! The fic Gaps in His Files will start releasing next week. It’s 14 chapters.

[unholyeverything]

3 a.m. - Part 1/4

Hello, this is based on a conversation I had with @lord-diavolo. So don't you solely blame little me. Also don't ask how we got there, we didn't understand ourselves. She was also one of my main inspirations to start writing, I just love her stories! So thank you! In general I've been so eager to try and inspired by all the fics I've read coming from this fandom. I wanted to contribute to the best of my abilities.

This won't be what you expected. Or it will be exactly what you expected. I don't know what you are into, honestly. But this is what I'm into and what I want to create. I shall have no shame anymore and trandescent into becoming a higher being.

Also the last time I wrote something was in gradeschool, so this might sound horrible. And I have no coherent thought of thinking so the timeline won't make sense. Please bear with me. Be here for the content, not the grammar, vocabs or a good sentence structure. Because I'm capable of writing 10 line long sentences. Good luck trying to figure that out. See it as a brain exercise.

But all in all, I had to say I had fun writing this! And that’s my main goal with anything I do. It made me laugh at first so hopefully you will get a laugh out of it too. Reading through it 200 times destroyed that for me. This is also brought to you by a caffein high. Me on coffee. The me writing this also was 4 cups in. Watch me rip out trees with my bare hands today. YOLO. Am I right.

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Pairing: DiavoloxLucifer Explicit: no, but mental images you will never forget Warning: none can save me from the brain damage I aquired during the creation of this, I went in there with -2. There are at least 5 more gone now. But sharing is caring am i right? Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Let’s start the slow progression towards Lucifer’s ultimate death.

During the day he was the Demon Lord, feared and respected by everyone and everything, but after 3am he turned into the biggest human fanboy known to demonkind. Or not known, let's be honest. This was the peak of his day, the time where he could truly go hunt down his newest online purchase. The latest addition to his human-things-collection. One of the base layers  for all of Lucifer's frustration, because he was the first and mostly the only one being called in excitement after the order was made, expected to show up within minutes to listen to all the reasons as to why said item is the greatest invention of all time for multiple hours.

However, that wasn't the worst outcome, this was it being a good day. The worst this would come down to was Lucifer being pulled in and being expected to participate or joining him to try out his newest find.

Just thinking about him will summon the devil, right?! It proved to be the case today as well. His office was dark, only faintly being lit by a candle placed on his desk, silence surrounding him. Still going through stacks of paperwork needed for the student councils meeting tomorrow, tiredness slowly starting to overcome him, Lucifer found his mind wandering off to think about what Diavolo would be up to right now. Even though it was already long past midnight, tomorrow's meeting was important, so he must still be up, also working through mountains of paper trying to figure out all the topics needed to be discussed. At least that's what he hoped was going on when he heard his phone go off, the ringtone indicating it was him. Just a question regarding the meeting or to simply see if his right hand man was also starting to be done with preparations.

"Lucifer! I need you to come to my office immediately!" It sounded like an emergency, so just in the second it took Diavolo to speak out his words, Lucifer was already up on his feet, picking his coat off his chair to wrap it around his shoulders and leave through his doors. "I have just found the greatest piece of human ingenuity online and it was already delivered, you have to come look at it! I know it's 3 am but I beg you!" There it was, the thing he hoped would not happen. Not today, with such an important meeting awaiting them, actually, never again. Adding to the mess was Akuzons policy of just delivering within seconds upon seeing their Leaders address on an order. They wouldn't dare let him wait. The employee processing the orders would start screaming and everyone on the night shift would start running, trying to find the item their Lord wished for, running out right away to deliver it. Oh much Lucifer wished they would let him wait. At least for the next day, for his own sake. They really should start considering other people's feelings as well.

It seems like Lord Diavolo was browsing all sorts of websites again, spending his precious time, that could be used to prepare Devildom matters,  to look for human garbage that excited him more than having Lucifer present himself to him in the finest Lingerie. Well maybe that could at least give off a similar effect, let's not forget to give him some credit, though it still couldn't fully compare.

Anyway,  he had already left the house, might as well just get this whole ordeal over with. There was no way he could excuse himself either. It was his Lord giving orders, he had to go. Go off to another night listening to how great the human inventions were. Even if what Diavolo considered as 'a great piece of human ingenuity' ended up being the most ridiculous item of clothing Lucifer had to ever lay his eyes upon. Considering that was what happened the last time he was summoned to his castle at these unholy hours. These atrocities were apparently called  'onesie'. Furthermore they unfortunately seemed to come in the shape of all the different animals known to mankind. This not only led to Diavolo proudly picking one supposedly resembling a human dog-breed referred to as a "Welsh Corgi Pembroke". These dogs being the preferred breed of a human queen must only mean that they are fit for any of royal status. It also led to him picking out one resembling Lucifer's symbolic animal, the Peacock. Though one could debate if that 'thing' even closely resembled a proud peacock, it was just utterly ridiculous with these giant black eyes and this horrendous colour scheme of blue and green. Thinking about it, this is nothing to debate over. It was ridiculous. Making this past experience worse, was that,  on the following weekend, Lord Diavolo invited him and all of his brothers to his castle for a human tradition: a sleepover party. The nice and considerate person that he is, he also thought about everything and picked out a onesie for all of them. Expecting everyone to wear these to bed from now on or at least during the duration of the event. What would he otherwise do? Check on them. More likely than what you would want to admit, at least in Lucifer's case.

Shaking his head Lucifer trying to erase this traumatizing experience from his memories. At least this train of thought has kept him busy on his way to the Demon Lord's castle where he was let in by Barbatos, already expecting him. Standing in front of Diavolo's bedchamber he took a deep breath in to mentally prepare himself for the worst. Just about as he was to knock on the wooden doors they were nearly slammed into his face by the unstoppable force on the other side of them.

Barely being able to avoid having his nose broken, he was greeted with the biggest of smiles and a sparkling set of eyes. Was that an apology? "Lucifer! You are finally here! I've been waiting!" "My Lord it only took me five minutes to get to you." "Five minutes to long, my dear! You could have stayed overnight like I offered yesterday." "Yes of course. I apologize." Lucifer answered with a sigh. He was too tired to argument over something that superfluous. Judging Diavolo's expression while entering the room he knew he was in for a long night without any sleep.

  The meeting the next day was even more exhausting than usual, it also seem to drag on for eternity, the brothers never being able to find a consensus. At least that's what it felt to Lucifer, who truly did not get a minute of sleep the night prior. What was there so long to talk about human underwear designs. Oh yes, they depicted just the most amazing selection of fruits ranging from blue ones with little watermelons printed on them, over to the most stunning pair: pink one with green pears on it. Oh there was so much to discuss about the human depiction of fruits in general. Weren't they just the most stunning little icons, so bright and colourful. Diavolo didn't seem to be tired at all, he was still too excited about his newest purchase. Proudly deciding to wear them right away. Luckily, for Lucifer, he decided it was enough that he had seen them in all their glory and his Lord decided to put on pants before leaving the house.

Finally, the meeting was over. Lucifer decided to try go home as fast as possible to take a short nap before new orders could get to him. Still the first ones to leave where Mammon and Satan, saying they had things to do and hurrying to get out. The next to leave was Beelzebub, who got hungry, helpfully he decided to pick up the sleeping Belphegor and take him with him. Only leaving Leviathan, Asmodeus, Lucifer and Lord Diavolo back in the meeting room. Diavolo tried picking up the conversation from last night again. Though one look at Lucifer's face told him that the latter was not up for this again and he should really head home to get some well deserved rest. He was starting to get concerned with how dark his undereyes were starting to look.

"Lucifer, you  should really head home, shouldn't you?" he asked with a worrying undertone in his voice. "It was a long night yesterday, wasn't it?" Amodeus couldn't prevent a smirk from appearing on his face, which was immediately answered by a glare from Lucifer, making his little brother face away again. Just appreciating the concern for once, too tired to come up with a answer or to get angry even, Lucifer got up and started to collect his papers. "Well then if you allow My Lord, I'll excuse myself…" "Of course, Lucifer, I'll just wrap up and clean the room with Leviathan and Asmodeus over there."   There was a barely audible sigh and some complains coming from their direction that got louder after Lucifer has left the room.

"Now, don't complain you two!" Diavolo said with a smile. "Help your big brother a little, he had a rough night." There was nothing, better none, to keep Asmodeus curiosity in check now.

"Ohhhh ~ my Lord please tell me all the details ~" the strawberry blonde purred. "Oh I just found the most amazing pairs of underwear from the human world, I just had to present them to him!" the redhead replied proudly. "Oh what type of underwear are we talking about? Some red lace? Or black? Or did they come up with even more revealing items than nudity? I would not put it past them!" His mind wandered in a direction that it really shouldn't, all different types of lingerie induced situations popping up. "Oh they were the most wonderful things, they had little oranges and bananas and watermelons and all types of fruits on them!" Oh well, there was one thing keeping the Demon of Lust in check. And it was an oblivious Demon Lord, not picking up on the situation as well as the intent of the talk and instead daydreaming about boxer briefs with fruits on them. Of course, cute things are the priority. What to reply to that now.

"Oh, that sounds quiet wonderful! The humans and their unique fashion choices. Did you do a little fashion show for him?" Faking interest, a good choice for Asmodeus. This might just do the trick to at least lead this sad conversation in another direction. "Of course I did!" their Lord laughed out. "We had a great time picking out the most wonderful one!" Well, this wasn't a good choice after all. Was this something a couple should do that late at night? Selecting the greatest pair of fruity underwear? Surely this can't be it. There were better things on could do.

Finally putting an end to this was a loud sigh from Leviathan. "What is wrong, you seem to be quiet upset about something? Is there something I could do to help you?" Diavolo asked with genuine concern. "Oh. It's my parcel I ordered from Akuzon, it still hasn't arrived. I ordered three days ago, and I paid extra for next day delivery! And now I waited for THREE days. THREE. Still no word from them! I didn't even get an email saying it was shipped. It is a figurine from one of my favourite animes! A limited edition even. Only a couple of them were produced. They are really special. One of a kind! Maybe I should order another one if they still got them?" Starting his D.D.D. and furiously tapping on it. "I see they have two more in stock……." There Levi went off again, rambling about his shows. Weirdly he seemed to disclose the title this time. What would it be about? None shall find out, or should they? "Oh? What do you mean by that? Don't they deliver to everyone within a few seconds? When I order I get my little packets only minutes later, at most? It is a truly amazing delivery service! Though if they cause trouble for you should I go contact them?" Diavolo didn't quite understand his problems but tried offering help anyways.

  Hearing these words just about did it for Leviathan. His envy kicked in full force and without a single thought to whom he was in the room with. What was with this unfair treatment. He was a Prime Shipping member, promised next day delivery. He paid extra for this. He was one of Akuzons' best customers. He spend fortunes on there. WHY WOULDN'T HE GET HIS ITEMS WITHIN MINUTES.  He felt his demon form flare up. Even in the presence of his Lord. Asmodeus saw this as his chance of running away, a welcomed distraction. Truly not wanting to spend one more minute thinking about what went down between Lucifer and Lord Diavolo last night. The potential image of Diavolo walking down a carefully made runway in nothing but boxers with fruits on them and Lucifer watching that was too much, even for him. The thought will haunt him for centuries, that he was sure of.

"I won't stand for this." Horns already coming out of his head he faced Diavolo. "Leviathan, this is a little unnecessary, isn't it?" He got serious, straightening his back, standing there with his arms crossed. "I already offered to talk to them, we can find an easy solution for this." He would definitely not let him run loose and destroy their meeting hall. Leviathan's mind still screaming to fight, his body, luckily for him, knew better than to attack his Leader. Instead he furiously made his way towards the exit, continuously mumbling how unfair all of this was, what he did to deserve treatment like this. He would just hole himself up in his room again, trying to distract himself by ordering more figurines, because even if he can't get them the fastest, he would be the one owning the most.

Diavolo looked after him, now alone inside the room. What did he do wrong? He didn't quite understand what happened right now, but something must really have angered the third oldest. He would go ask Lucifer about it after cleaning up. They were separated for too long now, after all. A good excuse to go see him again.

[innovativestruggles]

More Thoughts on Daisuke & Suzue

I watched episode 4 at like 3am right after Japan broadcasted it (since they are 1 hour behind and it takes about an hour to get it uploaded) so I was seriously buzzed when I was watching it. So I decided to re-watch again and just a few things came to mind.

First and foremost...

The tears in Suzue’s eyes. OMFG. I’m pretty observant when I watch anime because unlike real life people, when you do a drawing you gotta exaggerate certain features to portray feelings/expression. And when I first heard Suzue just calling out Daisuke’s name so many times, it was just so heartbreaking! (Kudos to her seiyuu who did a fabulous job with the voice acting! There was so much emotion in it ! What a legend! <3). 

Then I saw the tears in her eyes and it was a lot more devastating than I thought! Mind you, when Daisuke stormed out of the mansion, he looked damn pissed lolol

But my poor Suzue. She was so so so shattered. And lost. Omfg. Daisuke’s feelings mean everything to this woman and I just can’t--- my heart...

Suzue babys Daisuke like there is no tomorrow.

When I watched this for the second time, I honestly felt like I was watching a housewife fret over her husband. Either that or a mother fretting over her child. 

But she goes one step further and just makes all these gadgets for him. She’s like a super personal assistant/maid. I feel as if Suzue is doing all this for a reason. Maybe Daisuke saved her from something and she feels indebted to him? Maybe his parents saved her and she feels indebted to them and now needs to protect their son? I don’t know but it’s so weird. Suzue is definitely not just any ‘relative.’

ALSO, LOOK AT SUZUE’S STARRY EYES AND BLUSHY FACE WHEN SHE IS ABOUT TO WAKE DAISUKE UP FROM HIS BEAUTY SLEEP. Yeah...I....

I’m really, really loving the zoomed in shots and the little attention to detail in this scene above. Suzue cares so much about him, she sees his injury straight away. And the look on her face when she saw it. Omfg. I can so tell...she really, really loves this man and to what extent I don’t know, but all i know is that she pays attention to every single minute detail about him <3

So the interview came out and I am a little awestruck tbh. Was this the real big reason why Daisuke walked out? Over the heel in shoes? Or was there something more to it? Definitely something that Suzue was unsure of at the very beginning anyways. Regardless, I get the funny feeling both the Hong Kong adventure and this one are left to the CD drama because they may provide a reveal into Suzue and Daisuke’s true relationship. Which is why they can’t show it just yet?

This is an interesting revelation. The cool, calm, collected and very composed Suzue completely disintegrates when it comes to just Daisuke and Daisuke alone. I’m really curious now as to why she is so obsessed with him? Even grandma thinks she is being too excessive...

I see confirmation here about Suzue’s independence and courage and that is an enormous strength! Partly why I applaud the anime creators for adding so much depth to her character. In this manner, they definitely did her character justice. 

But then there’s her reactions toward Daisuke. I seriously don’t know why, but all I can gage from the episodes so far are;

1. Suzue is extremely loyal to Daisuke 2. Suzue would go to all lengths for him 3. Suzue would play the decoy, put herself in dangerous situations and be around men (whom she may be uncomfortable with) just so she could help Daisuke with his work 4. Suzue would sit and develop gadgets for Daisuke and pilot machinery for him 5. Suzue would attend to Daisuke’s everyday needs, from waking him up, to picking out his clothes to feeding him omfg 6. Suzue would lose sleep over him and worry about him constantly 7. Suzue would sit for hours on end and monitor where his whereabouts are because she was afraid he may not survive the outside world on his own with nothing 8. Suzue would neglect her own self-care just so she could make sure Daisuke is okay 9. Suzue is attentive to Daisuke’s health and wellbeing (i.e. her noticing the bandage on his finger straight away) 10. Even upon Daisuke’s return to the mansion, and him deliberately walking past her and ignoring her, Suzue was never angry at him (for leaving and for ignoring her) 11. Suzue will defend Daisuke (when grandma says to leave him be and that he will return when he is hungry) if she thinks people are insinuating something bad about him

Moral of the story thus far? Daisuke does not deserve Suzue LOL

Nah I’m joking. Daisuke has a very standoffish attitude towards Suzue (happened in the novel too) but he cares about her in his own really weird way. I still just love it how his way of making it up to her for leaving was to cook her food he learnt and loved. He went to the convenience store and bought the ingredients and did a demo as well omg...

This is so random but I just noticed how Daisuke is just watching Suzue the whole time in this shot.

That’s it.

I shall now eagerly await eppy 5 for some more (hopefully) reveals <3

[needloveandpositivity]

It's been described as the worst year of my life packed into 3 or 4 months. And it has been. 2020 was so good for us. We grew closer in our relationship. I knew quarantine was either going to make or break us, and we are doing so well together. I love him with all my heart. But there's so much going on, I'm so exhausted.

We became really close with his aunt and uncle over the summer. We visited often, they came to visit here, it was a good relationship. His aunt became a confidant for me. We could talk about anything. Then his uncle decided to fuck off. Left with no warning. They had 1 fight and he was gone. Aunt was heart broken. My man went to pick up uncle, because my man has a huge heart. It felt like we got shoved in the middle of their separation. Aunt vented to me often about uncle. Trashing him left right and center. I didn't really like him in the first place, but he's family, I gotta tolerate him. But it's so hard to stay neutral. Not even a week after he left, he started seeing another woman. A woman who he had already cheated on aunt with in the past.

I did my best to keep aunts head level, so she wouldn't call, text, email, what ever this lady to try and ruin uncles set up he had. She was so angry. So bitter. And I understood 100%, I think her feelings were justified. He left her. Again. 3rd time he walked out on her because she was trying to help him sort himself out.

My birthday, I get a text message, my man's great aunt had passed away. The woman that uncle was living with passed away suddenly in her sleep. She wasn't a super healthy woman, I understand she had cancer and diabetes, she had basically given up. But she seemed to be doing well, all things considered. We had just seen her the weekend before, she was happy, joking with us. And suddenly, gone. In a text message. We went to see my family that weekend, my dad and my brothers birthdays are all around mine as well, so we were going to celebrate together. I let my parents know, my man's great aunt has passed away quite suddenly. No response. No, "I'm sorry for your loss" no "wow that's terrible, my condolences" nothing. Just oh, yeah I overheard your man say it to his mom earlier. Thanks.

I had 3 weeks off work between contracts. I tried to use that time to organize the apartment, sort things to sell/give away, but Toronto was shutting down again for lock down, so I couldn't really do much with the things I didn't want anymore. So I'm still sitting on those boxes.

The 3rd week, my man's mom came to visit for a few days, which was nice. Her and I get along really well. We went to pet smart, went for a walk, hung out, it was nice. But she left in the middle of the night, no text, no explanation. Just gone. I woke up the next morning looking for her, assuming she went out to smoke, and I couldn't find her. She must have noticed I was active on Facebook, because she messaged me like 20 minutes later, said her gut told her to go home, so she did. At like 3am.

Like a week or 2 later she starts getting all distant, hardly responding to me, not giving me solid answers about Christmas plans, just keeps saying what ever. I asked her if something was wrong and she just kept saying no. It was like this for like a week or two and she just kept getting more and more snippy with me. So I finally asked my man like is your mom mad at me or something. But he's like no no she's fine she loves you why would she be mad at you, what could you possibly have done? And that's what I was wondering too, like, what can I do? What have I done?

Finally, she tells my man that she was upset with me, she thought I didn't want to see her on Christmas. That she was just an after thought. Because I offered to see her all day on December 26th. She took offense to December 26th because in her mind, December 26th is the left over day. The day that people who don't matter get. In my family, December 25 and December 26 hold the same value. We always switched back and forth with my moms family and my dads family for Christmas day and boxing day. This Christmas, with the covid rules and everything, my dads family was going to visit on the 27th, just a few of them, and mom's side was going to do Christmas day, since it was their turn anyways. So the 26th was completely free, and I wanted to give MIL our undivided attention. No rushing to another dinner, she gets the day. But she didn't want that. She wanted Christmas day. But she wouldn't communicate that to me so that we could arrange that for her.. so she thought I didn't want to see her. That she didn't matter. And she got all angry and distant about it without just telling me.

We finally got it sorted out, Christmas was super messy, my moms parents were being over the top about Christmas plans, they ended up canceling everything, and we ended up being able to see MIL on Christmas day after all. The whole time we were down there, I was anxious and uncomfortable. Trying to please everybody at the same time, and it was never enough. Nobody was ever satisfied by the time we could or could not spend with them.

Then, the 27th in the evening we had Christmas with my man's dad. Uncle was there. With this new woman. No heads up, we just walked in, and there she is. No introduction or nothing. Just hey welcome to Christmas dinner, have a seat. Like what? He knew we still spoke with aunt. He knew how heart broken she was. And now flaunting this new girlfriend at us???? I felt completely disrespected. Like he did it to get a rise out of me. Like he did it so that I would tell aunt and put fuel on the fire. He did it to make it hurt for us to tell aunt.

I was so excited to finally go home.

January 4th. One of the worst days of my life. I'm working from home, any normal day. And I get a text message from my best friends son. My best friend has tragically died of a stroke this weekend. I can feel my soul being torn to shreds. I screamed and cried for hours. I was able to calm myself just long enough to send an email to my boss, let him know what happened and i will be signed off for the rest of the day. My mom gave me a call as soon as she found out, one of her friends found out because she used to work with my best friend. She called me, and immediately she knew that I knew. I told her who told me, and I sobbed. She didn't stay on the line for very long. Just told me that if all I'm going to do is sit there and cry, then she's going to go because she had things to do. I wanted to tell her to fuck off right then and there. But I just said k and hung up. I called my man so he knew I wasn't working, that I wasn't okay. He hurried home that afternoon.

January was a rough, rough month. I felt right on the edge of crying every single day. I couldn't make phone calls without bursting into tears. I spent so much time just staring at the wall. I smoked so much weed just so I could get through an hour without crying. My eyes, my nose, my throat, my soul hurt just existing. Weed gave me that temporary relief.

Just when I started pulling myself together, making it through a day without sobbing, my dad texts me. My great aunt has passed away. At this point, I don't feel anything anymore. I don't want to cry, I don't want to feel. I'm just angry all the time. It's either nothing, or angry. There's no in between.

February I start to realize I'm really not okay. And I haven't actually been okay for a while. I haven't done laundry properly since well before Christmas. The apartment is a mess. And more and more often I'm thinking about walking out into the street just to hope someone will run me over. Then maybe someone will notice and understand how very not okay I am. Maybe I'll die? Is that really the worst thing that could happen?

I finally called my doctor when I started having some really physical symptoms. Thinking about my best friend, thinking about aunt and uncle fighting, thinking about MIL, thinking about anything remotely stressful or disappointing would make me shake. Like an uncontrollable shiver starting deep in my chest. Come to find out that's called heart palpitations. I've also been having these attacks, Ill be sitting on the couch, or fucking sleeping, and I'll wake up with a pain in my lower abdomen, super dizzy, nauseous, light headed. I sit in the bathroom and wait to either throw up, or pass out. Neither happen, and after about 20 minutes it subsides, I'm exhausted and I go back to sleep. My heart rate gets so high, so consistently during this time that my fitbit has started recording it as exercise.

I'm scared, obviously, that something might be seriously wrong with me. The nurse that I speak to on the phone doesn't think there's anything to worry about. She says it's just anxiety, she will book me in next week to be put on medication. At this point I'm not entirely convinced it's "just anxiety", so I made an appointment with a counselor. Even if it is "just anxiety" this is far more intense than i have EVER experienced in my life, and I've been diagnosed with anxiety/depression since I was like 13.

My mom doesn't care. I told her what was happening and she just said, I'm sure you're fine. I am super duper absolutely not fine. I haven't thought about dying in YEARS. The last time I thought about it was when I told my parents I was bi and my mom tried to leave. Went upstairs, packed a bag, and walked out the door. My dad chased her down and got her to come back in but like, what the fuck.

I'm almost 1 week on trintellix, I have to get bloodwork done this week to make sure these fun, awesome, never before seen symptoms are in fact just anxiety, and I see the cousellor next week to hopefully figure out what's going on and how to get through this.

I have plans, goals. My man and I are talking about getting married in 2022. Talking about buying a home in 2024. Children? Maybe. But I'd like to be around here to meet them.

So, here I am. I have people who listen, but I feel like I just rant at one friend way too much, and she's sick of me. Another friend that changes the subject when I get sad. Another who has told me she's sick of people venting to her, because she has her own mental health to deal with. And my man doesn't know how to help me. He tries, he really does. But he has bad days too, and I cannot help him while I'm down here. I can't pick him up while I'm still down.

I just need someone to listen. Someone to hear me rant and vent and get things off my chest. Because if I don't, I know I'm going to drown down here.

If you're willing and able to reach out, please do. If not, this will be the blog that I journal in, I guess. Where I write down everything that I want to talk to my best friend about. I know she can't respond, but I'm sure she's up there watching me, and I hope she's reading this to know that I'm trying. I'm getting help. I'm trying to get better, so I can do better.