#but it's already after midnight and i've been up since 3am
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unholy is exactly how my internal screaming sounded, so excited for the first chapter drop on sunday 🥴👍 cannot wait! 💕💕
I hope you all like it! The first chapter isn't really too much tbh but I have the story split up into like twenty five chapters at this point (though I might end up combining some in the future maybe, but I'm trying to keep word counts per chapter down to a semi-reasonable amount)
#asks#i'm also trying to fully finish writing it tonight#bc i might have plans tomorrow#and i really truly do want to finish this before the year is up#but it's already after midnight and i've been up since 3am#so i should probably go to sleep#but i wanna write!!!!
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New Year, New Me?
Entry Date: 2/2/2024
I am currently 23 years old. The age I always hear carries the most tribulations for our early 20s, which has pretty much been my pain point as I have no idea what I'm doing in life.
Shocking, I know, right?
Before I got my current corporate job, I had so much passion. I want to try out everything in life. I wanted to be a writer, dancer, singer, actor, psychologist - Shit, I even tried to do IT because why the fuck not? I had so much energy and drive I felt like I could conquer the world. And yet, here I am now, and I have no passion, interest, or drive. I'm literally just floating in life right now, not knowing what the fuck to do next.
I'm in survival mode, to be honest. The only thing that is hardwired into my brain is the goal of getting this shmoney.
Despite all this, I still feel lazy since I have no ambition for anything outside of money. My mind is plagued by what I should and shouldn't do and all I can land on is 'I don't fucking know :|'.
Regardless of this unclarity and lack of ambition, I only want a clear sense of direction. I want to get going already, but I don't know what steps to take. Again, I understand I'm only 23 years old, but still. I need that clarity to take action on a path I know I will be satisfied with, but once again IDFK.
There's no way around this phase at this point; It's inevitable. The only thing I guess I can implement is going on a deep assessment of my life (once again) and reviewing what is and isn't working for me. I've just been avoiding doing this because it is tiring and tedious.
Fuck, maybe I'm just being lazy.
I mean, tbh, it isn't fun; It just sounds like a load of work.
Damn, I think I'm lazy...
I mean, they say it takes 30 to 60 days to break a habit. I'll start looking into my bad habits and see what I can get out of that.
Here's a list of my current shitty habits that I'll be challenging:
Sleeping before or at midnight: My sleep schedule is terrible for a variety of reasons, but I want to start sleeping before midnight to practice better sleeping habits. For reference, I typically stay up until 3am despite working in the morning.
Waking up before 8am: Okay, so this is mainly to be able to study for my permit (Yes, I'm 23 and don't know how to drive. Who's gonna check me??) and work out. This will also allow me downtime after work (5pm).
Consistent Oral Hygiene: Okay, before y'all supposedly clean freaks call me gross, I'm not saying I don't brush my teeth. I do, and twice a day at that, along with using my Therabreath mouthwash. I just need to be consistent with flossing, specifically at night. I've been getting better at it, but I want to implement it into my daily routine.
Taking Daily Medications: I suck at consistently taking my mood stabilizers, as it just makes me feel dreary and sleepy throughout the day. Since I stopped taking it consistently, my mood hasn't been the best. Needless to say, I'm not gonna do that anymore.
Working Out: I've been athletic for as long as I can remember. However, in recent years, I've been on and off and want to get back to having a snatched waist with a phat dumpy. I'm already comfortable with my current size, but to be back in shape wouldn't hurt. I think I'll be sharing my journey with pictures every so often so that you guys can have a realistic peek into my journey.
Eating Habits: I need to eat healthier, PERIOD. I don't have the worst eating, but it's terrible for me because I'm very impulsive with food and suffer from an eating disorder. I have toggled between binging and starving myself many times in the past, so I want to try to find that sweet spot where I can eat healthily and not feel deprived to the point where I binge.
Prioritize Health: Both physical and mental. I suck at this and, at times, can let work take a toll on my everything. Last year almost broke me, and I don't want this year to be the same. I need to be happy and healthy. No comprising at all.
So yeah, that's my list. Once again, I'm just going to point out I am a lazy girl and I have terrible habits, however, I do want to make a change because I'm really tired of this loop.
I want to reach all of my financial, personal, and career goals this year so badly. The good thing is I have some steps to outline what I need to change. The challenge is pushing through to get the end result :\
Anyway, I will most likely post my initial progress for my journey for working out and do bi-weekly check-ins to track my progress.
This may sound corny, but New Year, New Me?
#new year#new year new me#new beginnings#self discovery#spirituality#self love#self ship#self journey#discovering#self discipline#growth#empowerment#struggle#workout#work in progress#black blogger#black girls of tumblr#roaring 20s#young dumb stupid#spiritual disciplines#black women#goals#new year 2024#2024 goals#spotify
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heya it’s Riddle Anon/Anon Hearts here. And well I wanted to say thank you. It’s a bit out of nowhere, but ummm I’ve been having trouble with sleep for the last couple weeks and today I woke up like really bad. And I tried just looking through things so I could relax, and I ended up looking at your pizzeria story. And while there were times where I genuinely felt a bit like Lyn I really enjoyed it. I think I’ve been reading it for like an hour and a half now at the first part of Day 13 right now.
I know it’s kinda random and all, but ummm really thank you. It helped me relax a bit and took my mind off of my bad sleeping schedule. I remember even considering trying to imagine who’d I’d want to meet and maybe see what happen in an rp cause I tend to rp a lot with friends or just in my head. In all honesty though I’m rambling a bit but thank you. I know ummm this is out of the blue and it feels a bit kinda stupid and stuff but ummm I appreciate you taking the time to make your story and keep up with it. Even if it sometimes drains you motivation. I hope you can keep going with it. Even if I’m not caught up.
Heh… ummm I’m gonna go back to reading now I kinda feel way too embarrassed and nervous now. And sorry if this is here while you’re asleep I kinda woke up at my 3am and as I said before sleep has been a big issue for me recently… so going back to sleep was quite literally out of the question. Ummm I hope your day goes well and that everything is ok! And that you’re healing well from yesterday.
YO, Riddle Anon! I actually know the feeling. I went to bed a little after midnight and I still woke up at 4 a.m. Mostly because it's hard to sleep with the bruise right now but I've had some sleep issues as of late. I'm on central time so it's 6 a.m. right now, I was already awake. >:D (This is pretty long so for convenience, here's the read more).
Regardless, like-hearing that my story actually could help someone out, squeezes my heart with joy. I wish I could describe it but that's been my dream with writing every since I was little. I have so many stories and ideas roaming around in my head, I think they're great but executing them is the hard part so I never pushed myself to do it until Widfali.
And my biggest dream with writing was that my stories could help people as others fantasy stories growing up had helped me. SO, it's honestly one of the best compliments I can receive. I am so happy and grateful that Widfali could do that for anyone. You have no idea how absolutely sweet it is to read that. Also I'm worried for your sleep schedule. If possible you gotta get some good Z's, please!
AND THANK YOU for taking the time to read what I wrote! Anyone who does deserves all the thank you's as well, readers are my biggest motivation! Without any of you I don't know how well I would have continued.
I hope you keep enjoying it!
Thank you for the askaroni! If there was a market for tears, I would be rolling in dough right now. Because I cry so easily over compliments, I SWEAR I've gotten them throughout my life, I'm not starved. I don't think. But, it warms my heart so much, the same as knowing you peeps SUCCEED TO!
YOU BETTER HAVE AN AWESOME REST OF YOUR DAY, RIDDLE ANON! (NONNEGOTIABLE). Get a nap or two if possible too!
P.s. it's been a long wallop since I rp'ed. Now to get that fix I do DnD with a couple of peeps. xD I can't imagine trying to roleplay these characters. Especially certain ones...cough, cough, LEV, cough, cough. I'd die.
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【𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝑫𝒂𝒚 ❷】 ²³/⁵
—E veryone in the classroom had already left at this hour, the school period itself had already long since been dismissed a while ago. Even a majority of teachers have left for the night. If so, what was I still waiting for...staying back in this empty classroom.
Well a special reason after all. I was still waiting for a special someone to show up, staying back for just him, just waiting for him to turn up for me tonight ~
To put it into words, I had already been waiting for the whole of the day.
It was the 23rd day of May, a seemingly normal day for most people, In fact, even me....or at least until a certain point now. But ever since I’ve been with Kuron, and was in turn introduced to the concept of the Day of Kisses…this special day was made into an occasion that I wouldn’t want to miss spending together with him.
Kiss Day, as the name implies, was a day where you get to spend with a special someone and share a kiss with them.
Laying my head down on the table, my mind replayed with the scene from a year ago today, when I was called up to the school rooftop by Kuron, and it was there and then that I shared a deep pleasant kiss with him.
To be honest…I was actually planning to do that as well this time, inviting him up onto the rooftop to meet up with me there.
But thinking about it, I was always the one that initiates kisses all the time…that’s hardly fair. That’s why I intentionally didn’t do anything at all for today, and maintained ignorance while waiting for him to approach me first.
But I had waited, and waited, and waited…until it was already past midnight.
I took out my phone and checked the time. Sure enough, it was the next day, the 24th now. May 24th, and 3am no less.
……
“What the heck…this bastard. Does he really intend not to do anything and let this day go by? freaking heartless! Why I ought to…”
I grabbed on my hair in frustration, feeling the passage of time just pass by in the background with each passing moment, all the while my patience was dwindling.
I can’t just keep waiting here for nothing…if he really did decide not to do anything in the end, then I might as well go find him myself.
But if I find out that rascal had gone home without even saying anything…
I wasn’t going to let him off easy…
—-- - ರ╭╮ರ
Just as I expected——
Opening the door to Kuron’s exclusive room used for detention classes, I saw Kuron sat there on the front desk—His head lowered, a look of stoicism and stern features on him as he marked papers in front of him.
Despite hearing the door open, he didn’t even react at all, his eyes maintained that firm attention on that pile of books, still holding such a cold attention as he spoke with such emotionless tone in him when he said,
“...Hey, don't you knock before entering? Mind your manners, student.”
…Such a cold heartless bastard.
Letting out a deep sigh, I darted forward towards him, both hands reached out as I slammed them on his desk.
Letting out a thundering slam that made him jolt in a shock, it finally made him lift his head up with an astonished look on his face as he looked at me, as if he finally realized that I was angry, letting out a shudder under the stare of my stern gaze.
“What the——hey, you...! Just what do you think you're doing, huh?——And w-why are you staring at me like that?”
“Are you acting dumb and deaf on purpose, you think that you haven’t pissed me off enough and want to push me over the edge even more, is that it...?”
I stared at those crystalline like eyes with a furious stern gaze, questioning with a harsh threatening tone that got his bewildered expression to seep, those large eyes that stared at me with innocence.
“...C-calm down bro! Don’t be so violent, yet——I don’t even know what I do——I don’t know what I've done to make you so angry though…—”
“...You don’t know? You really don’t know? Then do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? The whole day, that’s how long! From morning till now—And you still haven’t done anything !”
“...I mean—What was I supposed to be doing—Bro, I had work this morning, and more work at night—I don’t know what else I should be doing—Could you just…spare me and my goldfish memory some slack and tell me exactly what did I miss, nhn…I-I really can’t remember…”
…How disappointing.
I looked at his expression that didn't look like he was pretending to be nervous or shaken, facing those eyes that were almost cowering in fear from me, sniffing, and looking at me with that pitiful gaze as if begging for mercy...
Okay, maybe this idiot... could also forget important things sometimes. Well then...
“...You really don't know what day today is...?”
After listening to my question, Kuron blinked and darted his gaze in all directions, then looked at me carefully and answered,
"...Thursday——Ah, wait, no——Friday?"
...This ignorant fool.
Watching him get so flustered as he stuttered out of his wits, I finally had enough of this time-consuming little show as I grabbed his tie with one free hand and pulled him harshly towards me—Watching as those marble like eyes widened into size and his face morphed to that adorable shocked and taken aback expression as I close my eyes and planted my lips heavily onto his, giving him a passionate kiss thereby on the spot.
——After a while, I pulled my lips away from those lingering sweet tasted ones, opening my eyes as I stared at his face, which cheeks were slightly pink due to shyness, and his gaze that was trying their best to avoid looking back at mine with an abashed look.
Looking at that extremely cute expression that made me want to pin him down on the spot, I felt the corners of my lips tilted up slightly, forming a victorious curve.
“...Happy Kiss Day, my dearest teacher~”
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This snippet pretty much sums it all up.
You were the ride past midnight that I never knew I needed.
1st.
It was the 26th of November and it was my brother's birthday. I was at home alone. Your flight's tomorrow and by the time you entered my life, I had already made a rule that I would no longer linger in the talking stage. So there we were! Haha. I never really made an effort to date before you since I was exhausted from my previous rel. But the connection we had that night was real. :) We ate and laughed and enjoyed the night. You drove me home safely, as you promised. You asked for a hug, but hahaha! As you told me on our 3rd, I just made weird hand gestures. You asked me out again and you had already been planning our next.
2nd.
Coldplay.
The only concert I've ever attended—if you could even call it that—was the Disciple Conference we had for Central Luzon. It was when I realized that being a Christian ain't boring. We can party and jump around to worship songs too! ✨
I never really thought of attending any other concert. But your ticket seemed to be really intended for me lol. You kept on asking me to come. And even said that every good and perfect gift comes from the Lord. So... Yep.
I eventually attended. And dude, it was magical. 🥺✨ it's one of the best things I've ever experienced in my life so far.
I still thank the Lord everytime I remember. ☺️
It was so fun. And you lead me. I held on to you shirt always lest I be lost.
After the concert, you tried holding my hand but I thwarted your attempt 😆 and you laughed.
It was so fun though. I was bitchin' earlier that day because I was so uncomfortable of your touches. Just around my arms, yes, not sexual. But I still felt uncomfortable. There were tens of thousands of people and my only way out of that crowd was you. 😆
But you're really fun to be with. You fed me and took care of me. ☺️
As Chris Martin said, traffic in the PH is the worst in the globe. So we were able to drop your friend in her house past midnight.
You asked me whether I wanted to go to your place first but I automatically said NO.
We stopped by to grab some food and I bought you coffee. The name I had for that cup was "men." And you smiled ear to ear after seeing it. We even joked you'd have it framed 😆
It was such a small gesture after being treated to a concert, fed, and driven home. But you appreciated it. ☺️
3rd.
Your flight actually got delayed so you were still in the PH but you'll be off tomorrow.
I wasn't at peace. I always assess how I feel after every interaction with a person and with yours... I was feeling that something was off. That the Lord was telling me that you aren't the one and I needed to communicate this as early as possible since you'll be back mooonths after and I couldn't really wait. I can't feed on the happy moments we had on our first and second dates.
It was sudden. And good thing, the voice note I left you made you want to see me. ☺️ HAHA. I just said I wanted to see you. I wanted to meet in the middle since I just want to break the news that this ain't going any further. But you insisted to drive me home, still.
I was so afraid since someone told me that you might react violently. I was so afraid I called a friend to pray for me. 😆
And that's when I prayed "Lord, pauwiin mo lang ako ng safe, di na po muna ako makikipagdate." 😆😆😆
You were actually harmless 😆 I was worried because you grew up in domestic abuse. But yeah... a lot of people whose fathers were abusive can still end up as kind human beings.
I treated you to dinner and you were against it but could do nothing about it. We played sungka w/ the traditional rules and just made other rules up along the way 😆
We parked where I usually parked...
We talked until around 3am. Gosh! And that's when God revealed to me why you aren't really the one and why I needed to stand by the very reason I wanted to meet.
So... yep. It wasn't meant to be.
Though that served as a great lesson and caution. I'm grateful that I had that intuition. It was really God's leading & protection! ☺️🤍
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When I said TOMORROW I would dig through my horrendously disorganized tumblr and try to collate all my bullshit tags in an attempt to make it easier for someone to actually FIND MY FANFIC.
What I actually meant was TONIGHT I would do that instead of sleeping. Because it's technically already tomorrow since it's past midnight.
Also? I want to go into the past and shake past me and ask them kindy to pick ONE FANFIC TAG and fucking stick to it.
Gods help me I am reduced to looking at codywan tag on my tumblr to try and find my oldest codywan because did I TAG IT in any sane or easy to track fashion?
HELL NAH that would be too easy. Pfffff
EDIT: I think I got all my previously posted stuff under a cohesive set of tags. Tomorrow Today I am going to try and write up maybe a masterpost and find a way to pin that. My tumblr layout still isn't showing my most common tags for some reason but the clock JUST JUMPED from 2am to 3am courtesy of fucking DLS so I think I am giving up the ghost for tonight and will try and tackle this in the morning when I wake up. All in all? It's been a pretty productive night. I wrote a fair chunk. I actually collated all of Seeds for the Future into one masterdoc in libreoffice so if I ever can't get into my googledocs I have the rough draft available.
The current word count after 18 chapters is 49,985 words. Which? Sheeeeeeeeeeesh
I've officially surpassed Those Who Marched Away which was going to be the sequel for my FIRST SW fanfic Those Who Made It Home. It was a post Order-66 angst-fest I started YEARS ago.
I ran out of steam after 48,000 words which...let that bullshit sink in for a second. It's now THOROUGHLY been jossed thanks to TBB. Pretty much it leads up to Order-66 and Cody was going to be a CC-2224 for years, first serving at Dark Vader's hand before slowly being pushed to the side until he finally gets rescued by Rex and Co. Get de-chipped and the end goal was going to be him trying to come to terms with Obi-Wan supposedly being dead etc and of course he's not and blah.
Not exactly amazingly groundbreaking shit here. But I feel a little bad for investing nearly 50,000 fucking thousand words into something that will never see the light of day. Maybe one day when I have some time I will re-read and see if anything sparks inspiration.
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Personal post. Long, no readmore cuz mobile.
Tonight's been... interesting? A Lot? Not bad?
I've been visiting a friend who lives not that far except US public transit is a meme so it took like 4 hours to get there. I helped said friend give their dogs a flea bath and do the ole salt+vacuum the floor (literally worked wonders when I had to nuke a flea problem at my place a couple years ago) then we ate pizza... and then I pretty much had to turn around and head back home so I can be back before, like, midnight.
I kind of love-hate nighttime public transit. I love it because night bus drivers are THE backbone of our society, one time I was stranded away from home after train hours ended and I got back because 3am bus drivers are fucking legends. 9pm is decidedly not 3am but it has a similar vibe: dimmed lights on buses and more or less just me and my music and a couple other people.
BUT nighttime transit vibes are not why I am writing this post. There's railwork being done on the train system so everyone has to offboard at a certain station, take a bus to the next station, and then get back on the train at that station. The train car I was in was literally just me and one other person who didn't seem to know we had to offboard, so I told her everyone needs to transfer, and she asked me to hold the door because she's disabled (ankles injured) and needed a long time to get her things and get to the door. Then I helped her find an elevator to get to the bus, and the shuttle was a pretty damn far walk from the station, and she was struggling to walk so I asked if she wanted to lean on me or something. Her response was "HELL no, but you can carry my bag for me" so I did and thankfully the bus driver waited for us because the train station agents were making sure everyone who needed to transfer made it.
She kept asking me to go ahead of her with the bag instead of hanging back to match her pace. I felt kind of bad/uncomfortable basically taking her shit and running ahead but in retrospect I think it was probably weird for her to have some stranger try to awkwardly hang around her when she was just trying to get somewhere we were both going. I set her stuff down for her on the bus and explained to the driver that she was on her way but she has an ankle injury.
Bus takes us to the next train station, she calls out to the driver to "please wait, I'm crippled, so I need time to get my things" [quoting just so it doesn't sound like those words are mine, but it was an effective message] and I offered to carry her bag again and she accepted. We get into the station and I ask the agents if there's an elevator to the platform, and of course it's basically way out of the way around the corner. When we get to the elevator she tells me to take it on my own and refuses to get in and she is definitely becoming increasingly uncomfortable with me hanging back to try and accommodate her pace. She tells me to just take it and she'll catch up with me since we are going to the same place. I try to insist that we just take the elevator together since it's there and the only one, and she mutters something like "someone PLEASE tell this--" with the most exasperated tone ever used by a mortal and so I finally took the hint and took the elevator first.
This whole time I have had conflicting thoughts of (shitty selfishness) "man if I hadn't talked to her the first time on the train I would be there already" and (confusion/curiosity) "why is she getting mad at me for hanging back with her? it almost sounds like there is some social boundary i don't understand but i don't know how to ask that and she would DEFINITELY not appreciate me asking anyway" and (radicalized anger) "why the FUCK is it this unreasonably and inaccessibly far to get to the ELEVATOR when people who need the elevator probably have MUCH GREATER NEED TO NOT WALK GREAT DISTANCES"
Eventually we both end up on the platform and the connecting train won't come for 30 McFreaking Minutes, which I pass on to her and she is like "WHAT THE FUCK" which is a sentiment all of us can agree with, and she decides, fuck this, and leaves to take a different bus (with her bag which I returned).
I'm kind of standing there processing this, when someone comes up to me - I am a little bit on the defense because this is already more human interaction than I prefer on public transit - and he asks if I worked at "the needle exchange".
My last job was, indeed, working at a nonprofit which - among other things - supplies safe injection materials and other harm reduction work. For people who need those services the org is synonymous with a needle exchange; I usually didn't work directly with clients (I was IT) but I did serve quite a few meals during the first months of the pandemic when the org couldn't safely take volunteers for free meal shifts.
He said he recognized me and thanked me. I clarified that he meant the org I worked at and he confirmed it.
I don't work there anymore but one thing I remember my old manager saying is he would sometimes meet people in completely unexpected walks of life who would recognize him and go "did you work at [nonprofit]? that org saved my life man, thank you so much."
I wasn't expecting that recognition or message at 10pm at a train station very far from the organization I worked at almost a year after I quit, but there it was. I told him I hope he's doing well. It's the truth.
Quitting that job and going to grad school for music was without a doubt the right thing for me, but I'm so so glad I worked there when I did. And it was nice to be reaffirmed on this weirdest of all nights that in some small way I may have handed a sandwich and drink to someone who needed it during a deadly pandemic between fixing hard drives.
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When'd you get into Adventure Time the first time, and how'd it happen? Been thinking of giving it a watch (especially after all the good stuff that's been said of Obsidian and, admittedly, all the stuff I've seen you post and reblog), and it got me curious
This is like my favourite story, and it is the only good one I remember from being a teenager (life from back then has been super foggy since I moved out of my mum's but it is all good now):
When I was 15 I made a new friend who wanted to write a comic about Teen Titans with me as the artist, TT being my second-favourite childhood show after DBZ.
I started bingewatching Teen Titans because I now had a computer and was able to do so. I learnt about the voice actors.
Starfire was played by Hynden Walch. I learnt that Hynden's latest role was Princess Bubblegum on Adventure Time. I checked it out on wikipedia. It seemed kind of cartoony for me.
One thing that caught my eye is when the wikipedia page said PB "may have had a past relationship" with Marceline, the vampire girl with the really pretty hair. I was confused by this, and rationalised it to myself as they must have had a history as friends or enemies. It didn't say what kind of relationship and I thought there was no chance of it meaning "romantic".
For the time being, I didn't look into AT further.
A couple months pass. After several months of tension, I get a text while in school telling me that my dad was breaking up with his fiance, and I would need to move back into my mother's place immediately. This was smack bang when I was about to start my GCSE exams - the timing couldn't be worse. My mother's house is a shit hive and I went between having a tiny box room to myself or sharing a messy bedroom with my sister and mother. There were no standards for hygeine and there wasn't a stable supply of food.
I decide to finish my binge watch of Teen Titans. I spend all day doing this every day. I rewatched it once I was done. It was what I did to cope.
At the same time, my Teen Titans comic friend confides in me. She tells me she thinks she might be a lesbian, and she is scared her parents will reject her. I sympathise deeply. At the time, I was waist deep in the closet to the point I couldnt accept certain things about myself either, but having a friend come out to me made me reconsider LGBT matters.
I looked on deviantart and saw some art for "RaeStar". I thought it was wrong to ship them (I shipped RobStar hardcore) but, well, the art was so cute. Their interactions were healthy and sweet. It was nice. This became my low key first gay ship.
Then, I start bingeing RebelTaxi's Teen Titans video reviews.
Once I am dry on Teen Titans content, I see RebelTaxi did a review on Fionna and Cake, and on Ryan North's Issue #2 of the Adventure Time comic.
The first video, Fionna and Cake, was appealing to me. The show had an amazing art style, and a decent sense of humor. I loved that they did something for the fans, making a genderbent fanfic episode based on popular fan characters. It was unprecedented and very post modern.
....But it was the SECOND video that made me take a very sudden interest in the show.
RebelTaxi was referring to a scene with PB and Marcy in the bottom of the Lich's bag. There is a joke where Marcy turns into a tentacle monster. RebelTaxi always makes hentai jokes when tentacle monsters are involved, but he interpreted this scene as referencing the characters' "lesbian undertones".
...Wait, WHAT? Hynden Walch's character and the pretty vampire have Lesbian Undertones?!?! Haven't I heard this somewhere before?!?!
A quick google search of "Adventure Time Lesbian Undertones" later, I discover the Mathematical! Controversy - how an episode with some incredible songwriting seemed to imply they had been girlfriends in the past who have residual feelings for each other. A podcast had been made by the producers fangirling about this possibility, but it was taken down, and the director fired. Nobody had outright said the subtext was not there, but they said they didn't want the podcast to sound like word of god. There had been a lot of upset in the gay community over this. Oh, by the way, there's a gay community of cartoon fans who really ship PB/Marcy.
With a combination of everything, from how my friend had just come out to me and was struggling with homophobia, to how I was a Hynden Walch fan, to how the show had already impressed me with what little I'd seen, I became IMMEDIATELY invested in finding out as much as possible about these potential LGBT characters and their relationship.
So I checked out a ton of Adventure Time videos on youtube. I checked the vids that had Marceline's backstory in, vids with funny moments from PB and all the other characters, I checked Deviantart for fanart where I made my first engagements with the fandom's gay community, I checked the Wiki talk pages to get ALL of the discourse. It changed who I was basically overnight.
I decided Adventure Time was a fun show with clever writing, and absolutely worth my attention. During the break for exams, I binge watched it all day, and then I would cram for my GCSEs between midnight and 3am on the day of the exam. I was addicted!
When I caught up, Goliad aired. This was the first ep to come out with me being in the fandom.
At the time, even though Hynden had drawn me to the show, Marceline was the character I was most invested in. She had the amazing backstory and music and character design. PB was fun, but there was relatively nothing to her character.
Oh boy, that ALL CHANGED with Goliad! People were intensely debating what the episode was saying about her. Is she a good person, a bad person? Why was she so troubled in the episode's opening, and why was Goliad corrupted?
Discourse only escalated with Princess Cookie. The top post on the wikia was "Is Princess Bubblegum evil?"
Thinking about her character was so interesting for me. These two episodes made me realise PB was a character with her own internal battles, who was struggling with the responsibility to do what was right for her people vs what is the Right Thing, with her own psychological wellbeing caught in the middle. My interpretation of Goliad was that PB was a naturally neutral person who had decided to be good, whereas Goliad had been corrupted by Jake's anger, and this contrasted with Finn who was a pure good person. The Princess Cookie episode reinforced my ideas, because she was doing something that was neither objectively good or bad but was a result of her own morality, and it went against Jake's morality. The idea of the "good guys" having such different values was so engaging, and they managed to come around at the end, with baby-snaps being submitted to rehabilitation.
Princess Cookie was also the first episode where PB was shown to be an adult while a currently adult character was a child. Either candy people age quickly, or - more likely - Pb is keeping her age a mystery. After thinking about this, I opened up a page on the wiki forums saying "Is Princess Bubblegum Old?"
This is what sealed my position in the fandom. I became a well known regular of the community after that, on Wikia and then Tumblr. It was my first fandom. So many good memories of theories, debates, analysis and fanart, the satisfaction of my theories being confirmed in season 5 onwards.
The most important thing to me, about engaging with the AT community, was how those initial interactions around the LGBT content were the groundwork for me being comfortable coming out of the closet. If it wasn’t for that, if it wasn’t for speaking specifically to Thisfreemind and Illeity about how gay relationships are perfectly fine and healthy for kids to see, and no less clean than straight relationships, I might be a person with far more conservative views today, and I might have fallen out with several of my closeted friends over internalized homophobia.
I would have also probably failed high school. My grades improved drastically over the next year, because my online community life had made me happier. It was comfort and stability during a difficult couple of years.
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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.
#sanders sides#sanders sides fanfiction#ts fanfic#ts fanfiction#doctor who#thomas sanders#canon compliant#action#adventure#romance#roman sanders#logan sanders#deceit sanders#patton sanders#remus sanders#virgil sanders#ts sides#ts roman#ts logan#ts deceit#ts patton#ts remus#ts virgil#logince#moceit#sympathetic deceit#sympathetic remus#bickering#enemies to friends#rivals to lovers
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Isolation update!
Day 73 of Isolation on Tracy Island
“Scott?”
“Yeah?” he looked over from the movie he was half watching, caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.
“Can we go out?”
“Huh?” he frowned, clearly not following me at all. Can’t say I blame him, I hadn’t said a word for twenty minutes, a minor miracle for me, and then announced that.
"Don't fall for it," John advised.
“Can we go out?” I repeated.
“Where? It’s not like there’s anywhere to go," Scott asked.
I waved my phone at him. “England has just eased the lockdown and has said you can have up to six people in a garden at one time and I want to visit my mum.”
“Sure, I mean, I guess so. When do you want to go?” He’s such a good boy, this one.
“Now.”
“Now? You do realise it’s almost midnight, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but we’re on the other side of the world, it’s daytime there. If we go in the morning it’ll be too late. Come on, please? I've not seen them in over two months."
“Why me?” he groaned. “It’s this supposed to be John’s job?”
“You have the craft that can get anywhere in the world in under twenty minutes. And he’s refused to ever go to her’s for a barbecue again.”
“Too right I have,” he muttered. I nudged him with my elbow and he nudged me back. We got into a little nudge fight until Scott cleared his throat.
“I’m probably going to regret asking this since I already said yes, but why won’t John go again?”
“Mum has a habit of inviting everyone she knows and then she forces us to socialise. Last time she towed him around and introduced him to everyone and forced him to eat three burgers because he is too skinny.”
“It was horrendous,” he shuddered. "I felt like I was on parade, I half expected someone to check my teeth and smack my rump."
“She can’t do it this time because of the six people limit, but apparently this brave, heroic rescuer isn't prepared to risk it.”
“Because I’m not stupid,” he snorted. “I’ll stay here and just be happy when you get back, OK?”
“That is somewhat acceptable,” I allowed. "But you had better be bloody ecstatic when I return."
“Can I take back my agreement to go?” Scott asked.
“No, but you can bring a few more brothers if you want to, choose wisely.”
“Virgil, everyone loves him,” Scott decided. “The other two can't be trusted anywhere. Hey, Virg?”
“Yeah?” he called back from the kitchen where he was making his ninth cup of coffee (and then wonders why he's still awake at 3am).
“You wanna go to a barbecue?”
“Food? Sure! When?”
“Now!”
“Sure!”
“I notice you didn’t tell him where,” John grinned, receiving a soft smack on the knee for the comment.
“It won’t be that bad,” I insisted, but honestly I’m not sure who I was trying to convince. "She'll ask where you are, you know that, right?"
"Tell her that I fell into a black hole and you're expecting it to spit me out sometime before Christmas."
"Yeah, like she's going to believe that one again."
***
There was a crowd of children outside as Scott lowered One down onto the grassy green outside Mum's house, managing to avoid the trees. Skilled, that one. I can’t even park straight most days.
“There you are!” Mum called from the door, refusing to step one foot outside while the rest of the world of out was around. “Go round the back, you can’t come inside the house, your brother’s already out there! Have you got a toilet in that fancy machine? Because you can’t come inside the house! Did you bring your own plates? Because you-”
“Can’t come inside the house,” we choroused.
“We know, Mum, don’t worry.”
“Alright,” she answered. “Oh, did you bring your own drinks? Because you can’t come inside the house. No cuppa for you today, sorry, because you can’t come in and you know I won’t have my good mugs out in the garden.”
“It’s fine, Mum, we can only stay for an hour anyway, it’s getting late.”
“It’s only just gone one!”
“Yeah, but it’s one in the morning for us, you know that.”
“Oh, I’ll never get used to that nonsense,” she muttered dismissively as she shut the door on us.
“Should I be scared?” Virgil asked.
“No, don’t be silly, she loves you,” I assured him, silently crossing my fingers in the hope that I wasn't lying to him.
We’ll just stay an hour turned into three and it was growing light by the time we touched back down Tracy Island side. John was dozing on the couch when we got back. I waved one of the leftover burgers under his nose that Scott had ended up cooking because Mum had decided that drinking copious amounts of gin was a better use of her time than actually cooking the food she’d invited us to eat. My brother, being a vegetarian, refused to touch anything meat related and wouldn’t cook either.
John grabbed at the burger without even opening his eyes, catching my wrist and directing it towards his mouth while I held it for him, only sitting up to take it once he’d taken a bite.
“Lazy,” I accused, but he knew I didn’t mean it.
“How bad was it?” he asked Scott and Virgil, who flopped wearily down on the couch opposite.
“I had a great time,” Virgil grinned.
“Only because of the dog,” Scott grumbled.
“Mum’s dog fell in love with him,” I explained. “Fat, soppy staffie that insisted on climbing on his lap and refused to move.”
“He was cute,” Virgil cooed. “And he loved me.”
“That dog loves everyone,” John told him. “You aren’t special.”
“Apparently Scott is,” I grinned. “Mum thinks he’s the most handsome thing ever to have walked this earth, she is obsessed with him. She kept checking him out, I’m sure of it.”
“I feel slightly violated,” Scott confessed. “She wouldn’t leave me alone, she kept asking me questions.”
“She did that to me too,” John told him. “Did she call all her neighbours to come to meet you?”
“Yes, one even got a ladder out to wave over the fence”
“Did she tell you all that she loves you because she was tipsy?”
“Many times, we got a lot of attention.”
“Did you end up cooking because she forgot to and burnt the first batch?” John continued his interrogation.
“No, I ended up cooking because the first batch were only cooked on one side,” Scott answered.
“I played with the puppy,” Virgil smiled.
“He’s hardly a puppy, he’s eleven,” I laughed.
“They are puppies forever,” he insisted.
“So you regret taking her?”John asked Scott.
“No, of course not. She’s been here for more than two months with our family, she needed to see her’s,” he answered. “But I do regret forgetting to set the alarm on One and now we have to scrub off a rude depiction of a piece of male anatomy that’s been spray painted on one of her tail fins.” Scott yawned and got up. “I’m going to get a few hours sleep before we give my baby a bath.”
“Scott!” Virgil yelled, jumping up and following after him. “Can we get a puppy?”
“And you wondered why I didn’t want to go,” John finished his burger and grabbed my hand, hauling me to my feet. “Bed for you, it’s late and you know full well you’ll be helping him clean tomorrow.”
#thunderbirds are go#thunderbirds 2015#thunderbirds#thunderbirds fanfiction#virgil tracy#john tracy#scott tracy#isolation island#isolation#self isolating#social isolation#staffie#doggosbeingdoggos#best doggo#doggolove#doggosdoingthings#doggoals
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Jason Todd: German Shepherd
A/N: Dog Plan 2/?, how could I not write one for Jason???
>>>>———————————>
He had issues. You were god damn sure of it.
Obviously you loved your treasured German Shepherd to pieces and you were 99% certain that Zeus would die for you but that does not mean he wasn't subject to experimentation before you adopted him as a puppy. It was Gotham, that theory was completely liable considering his peculiar sparkling emerald irises.
The dog had a biazzarre habit of sneaking out the fire escape on some nights but always made his return a couple of hours later ready to snuggle up with you. His scent was usually that of gunpowder and cigarettes - again, in Gotham most places smelt like that but you couldn't help but wonder what your partner got up to on his escapades. Regardless, you brought a collar engraved with your address as a precaution. Although once the adventurous canine disappeared for longer than 2 days you began to worry, he was basically your comrade who seemingly understood every word you said so when the door knocked at 3am you skidded over in your hoodie with hopeful eyes.
"Uh hey, I believe this belongs to y- Sun!" The mysterious stranger didn't manage to finish before Zeus hauled his oversized paws over your shoulders nuzzling his nose against your hair on his hind legs, it was a struggle to hold the massive bundle of fluff so much so that you staggered back a little before fussing him in return. A pulsation of shock sprinted through your veins upon recognising his company and the twin guns situated on his thighs but he did just return your dog...
"Thanks for bringing this giant doofus back, I see you've already gotten attached though." You observed expectantly, Zeus standing by your side to stare at the Red Hood who shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Old habit, I've encountered him quite a bit on the streets - at first he went by 'Dog' but eventually I named him Sun Tzu. Then he suddenly shows up with a collar around his neck but I'm glad he has a good home."
"Yeah, Zeus always struck me as a weirdo who apparently sneaks out to play vigilante sidekick but I always pick the odd ones I guess. And Sun Tzu... as in the Art of War?" The man did a double take, he didn't expect you to know who that was.
"He's actually quite useful out there. And that's the one, have you read it?"
"No, but I'd like to. I guess you've got to go save the city but thank you again Red Hood." You waved him off, Zeus with a bark and you'd thought that would be the end of it.
.
Of course it wasn't, Zeus would continue to disappear no doubt on the streets with his apparent 'partner' - they were a deranged reformation of Batman and Robin much to your amusement. Only now you awoke to find an Art of War hardback on your bed rather than a toy with Zeus franticly wagging his tail. Suspiciously, eyeing your dog as you did so, you opened the book to find a scruffy note inside.
'Hopefully Sun Zeus got this to you, thought you'd like it. - Red'
Oh God...
Once you'd read the book, you sat contemplating a reply on your piece of card since you had no paper at this particular time - Zeus laid beside your leg, head resting on your thigh with a bored expression.
'Thanks, it's an incredible book. I'm not sure if I can ask how you are but has the crime world been busy? Gotten any cool cases? I suppose I shouldn't ask that either, well it was a pleasure meeting you the other night and you seem pretty badass but thanks again for taking the time to return my boy. -(Y/n)'
You visually winced as your hands began mimicking your thoughts knowing you were binning this version, with a sigh you stood to find a new piece of card as you couldn't ask a stranger that - let alone the Red Hood. What were you supposed to say anyway? You returned to your couch, clear card inches from your canines nose - you had no idea where he'd obtained the piece but didn't complain, writing a new message before slipping into the book for Zeus to return.
'Thank you for the book, stay safe out in this hellhole. - (Y/n)'
It was no more than a few days until you received a reply neatly tucked into your joyful canines collar despite the torn edges.
'I thought people threw away discarded notes, not write on the back but I'm glad you did it. It's Gotham, of course it's been busy and 'cool cases'? No (Y/n), definitely not. The pleasure was all mine by the way. - Red'
.
The exchanges continued for quite some time, your dog acting as your very own personal messenger, occasionally you'd send over books or on one instance you'd received a bouquet of flowers, of course you'd sent some back to which your correspondent found amusing. Regretfully over the passing 3 months you'd only encountered him under a few circumstances, mostly brought together by the antics of your shared companion but none the less you grew rather fond of each other.
You’d conversed as he sat on your widow ledge after you’d practically forced him to drink a coffee before disappearing back into the depths of Gotham, listening to the latest tale he threw your way. Then you have ran into him and Zeus during a midnight shopping run, the two opting to walk you home that night. It was difficult not to grow close to the man when you see him at least twice a week as well as the letters he continued to write despite already exchanged numbers.
.
Tonight you'd ventured to Big Belly burger, opting for a takeout after an exhausting day but were not expecting the cashiers joyful reaction.
"Ah hello you beautiful boy!"
You gave her a sceptical glance, pausing at the counter before noticing her kind smile was actually directed toward your dog - who shouldn't be inside but alas chose to follow you in anyway.
Zeus wagged his tail at the familiar welcoming, the woman walking around the counter to pet him much to your confusion, you were hungry after all but due to the happiness both parties displayed you saw no harm in waiting 5 minutes more.
"Where's your handsome owner? Can't be far behind no?" A pink hue settled on her cheeks, whoever this supposed master was apparently captured her romantic interest, regardless Zeus moved to sit by your side, leaning against your leg before releasing a bark.
"Dork." You tutted, tousling his ear.
The woman politely smiled, seemingly understanding the gesture but you didn't miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.
"Ah you brought his lovely partner with you today hm? Well now the flowers make sense, you are a lucky one, I didn’t think men like that existed. I'll prepare his usual and what would you like this evening?" Her cheery attitude returned as she began preparing your alleged lover's signature order much to your quiet protest. Suspicion overwhelmed you by wondering what other companions your dog had - Zeus trotted over to the exit as the bell rang signifying a person entering/leaving the diner.
"Hey Sun. You waiting for me or somethin'?" Immediately your eyes widened, the familiar nickname of your canine and the way he spoke making your heart race.
However you didn't want to make your presence known, having assumed the Red Hood wouldn't be dressed as such - not if the waitress was so flawed by him. Although credit due, he already had a stunning body in his vigilante attire...
This was the man your dog trusted every night - the one who wrote you letters and had a beautiful way with words. The one who had the waitress before you blushing like a school girl by his mere presence alone. With a careless sigh, you directed your attention to the two only stopping a few away - the scene bringing an admiring smirk to your face, the very attractive ravenette knelt before your companion both talking an fussing him like they were the best of friends, which you supposed they were after all of their adventures.
The male shot a quick glance to the person they were supposedly holding up, once recognising you he hesitated before standing and moving to speak. That is, before you cut him off.
"Don't worry babe, I got yours too. Sit and eat with me?" Your tone was casual as if you’d both done this many times before, like you hadn’t just laid eyes on him, yet it held an underlying demand as you held the paper bag out toward him.
It wasn't exactly a choice, regardless of how effortless fabricating a relationship was between the two of you. He immediately collaborated with your intentions, knowing that there must be a reason for you to act this way.
"Always doll, I've got some news for you anyway." He must've understood that you deducted who he was, and so guided you to the nearest table with Zeus following.
.
"So..." The man awkwardly started, unsure of how to go about the situation and truthfully neither did you but addressed the main question hanging in the air.
"Before you ask it was Zeus, no one calls him Sun except his partner in crime and there's also how happy he was to see you, I knew straight away."
"Hah, can't believe he betrayed me like this. But I'm kinda glad (Y/n), although was the pet name thing really necessary?" Was his reply as he began eating much like you had, the atmosphere became more casual with your shared amusement thanks to Zeus' previous antics.
"Firstly Red, you started it ages ago. Secondly, I don't know your real name and finally, the cashier thinks we're together thanks to our 'shared ownership' of Zeus. Rather disappointing actually, the lady does seem fond of you." Of course you'd defended yourself, the position you'd put yourselves in was somewhat embarrassing but all you think of at the time.
"All valid points I admit, and I've noticed but hey, if we're together I guess she can move on. And it's Jason by the way, Jason Todd."
"Jason... It's not how I expected to find out your identity but I'm not complaining, you've got good taste in fast food."
"Yeah, honestly this isn't how I'd imagined things to go either." He shook his head, shy smile on his face almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.
"How so?"
"I would've preferred to tell you that I'm a vigilante at least a few dates in, not the best starting point is it?"
"No but it’s definitely interesting. How about this be our first date and we can go from there? It's a proper thank you for bringing my fluffball back home." Zeus released an obnoxious whine at the nickname from his place on the floor beside the table where he'd chose to lie down as Jason laughed but agreed none the less.
"Since you've so kindly paid for this one (Y/n), the next date is on me."
"I've just found out you're a gun wielding crimelord - what makes you think there's going to be a next one?"
Upon hearing your playful tone Zeus immediately sat up, barked as if making an argument whilst wagging his tail and looking between the two of you proudly. Jason smirked, gesturing toward Zeus as he answered.
"He does."
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#dc#dc imagine
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101122
It's 3am and everything is falling apart, which I know really means its coming together. Since I don't have my car I had to uber to work and didn't get my full hours. At least Amanda and Yan weren't upset but I know they will be tomorrow since I won't be able to make it in. They ended up towing my car which is crazy since I couldn't do what I needed to do to pay it over the weekend. So I have to take the day to take care of it. I'm jus hoping I have enough funds to cover it and that God lets everything work out. I worked at chemistry tonight and didn't make it back home until after midnight which is when I found out about my car. Cheyenne stopped by tonight and didn't know I worked there. They asked me to serve them and the other servers started acting funny about it and it made me want to quit. I can def tell this job is unorganized and already gonna be on bull. But I need money, so I can keep my attitude and just do my work and ignore the weirdos and power trips. As long as I can go home with a decent amount of bread every night. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed like things are piling on top of me but I plan on giving it to God before I go to sleep and praying that by this weekend I'm in the space I've been working so hard to get to.
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Diary
Thursday, September 9
Today I sat with Linda and Caroline at lunch. They're both nice. Linda didn't want her sandwich so we traded. I had an apple too.
Friday, September 10
For homework we need to learn something about our parents' jobs. Dad is gonna bring me to the garage and teach me how to use a samoflange.
Saturday, September 11
Mom says if I'm gonna be allowed in the garage then I have to sweep the kitchen and dining room and put the dishes in the dishwasher after dinner.
Sunday, September 12
Dad showed me all his power tools. He wouldn't let me use them but I still got to be his assistant while he was using normal tools. Mom brought us sandwiches and lemonade for lunch.
Wednesday, June 18
Found this diary in a box of books from when I was a kid. I still remember working in the garage with Dad that day. And what happened Monday. I still don't know why things turned out the way they did. Mom woke me up early and told me to pack a suitcase. I tried to get my backpack ready for school and Mom told me there was no school that day. She was wearing a stay-in outfit, and Dad wasn't dressed for work either. When I was done packing my suitcase, Mom told me to grab Mister Bear Bear and brought me to the car. Dad kissed me goodbye and we left. We were gone before breakfast time and, except for food and bathroom breaks, didn't stop until long past my bedtime. We stopped at a hotel (I don't remember which one) and got a one-bed room. Mom tried to put me to bed, but I couldn't sleep. Dad showed up around 3am and I finally fell asleep lying between them,
Thursday, June 19
I guess I'm writing more about this. The next few days were mostly the same. Mom would wake me up early, we'd have breakfast and start driving, get a hotel around midnight, and it all started over again in the morning. Sometimes Dad arrived at the hotel with us, sometimes he didn't show up until early in the morning. Neither of my parents explained what had happened or where we were going. It all kind of blurs together so I don't know how long this went on, but one day we pulled off the road in the middle of the day and up to a nice house, and Mom said that was where we'd be living from then on. I didn't really think about it as a kid but even though we were just arriving that day, there was already food in the fridge and pantry, soap and shampoo in the bathroom, and my room was already decorated.
Sunday, June 22
Trying to remember more about life starting over. I was enrolled in a new school and started classes about a week after we got to the new house. Dad stayed home from work, or at least only worked while I was at school, for about a month, and Mom only wore staying-in clothes for about that long too. Our stuff arrived in boxes, a few boxes a day for about a week. Clothes first, I think. I don't really remember what came when. I know that we had half-empty boxes in our basement for years, and some of them we kept rotating items between or condensing into smaller boxes. I guess that's how I wound up finding this diary after so long, the box it was in must have been one of the original book boxes. Anyway... No, I have some bad memories I'd rather not commit to paper. I'll come back tomorrow with some notes.
Monday, June 23
My parents divorced when I was fifteen. Dad downgraded big time after but he was happy to the day he retired, and then he bought a cat to spoil. Mom got custody and we stayed in that town so I could finish high school, but when I moved for college, she moved too, and went to live with Grammy and Grampa. I've kept Mister Bear Bear, obviously an important note to put into a diary I've had since third grade. Also important is that I never found out why we moved so suddenly or so strangely. How we got that house, why it was already set up when we got there or who had set it up... I've asked, but never really got a solid answer. I tried looking up old newspaper articles about our old town, to see if there were any hints about strange happenings that might provide clues, but nothing came up. I know that Dad took up attending Parent Teacher conferences from that point up until the divorce, but Mom was still the one volunteering for all the bake sales and driving me to after-school activities, and... I don't really know where I'm going with this.
So long, diary. Maybe I'll write in you again some day.
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