#lol i was trying to add the antis and my phone is like who the fuck are these people you trying to pair up with Sauce and Nardo

[firespirited]

So, uh, I had a nervous breakdown - emotional meltdown - mental overload and guilt spiral of sorts that culminated in 5 fully blank* days and nights (*I keep a "times, meds, symptoms and activities" notepad). It's over now as far as I can tell as the cause has stopped, I didn't harm myself beyond some self neglect or cause pain to anyone else. I'm ok, picking up the pieces and determined to get treatment.

Not even sure if those are the correct terms and feel kinda uncomfortable using them like I just "spontaneously broke" as opposed to getting broken down by others but no one here is ready to talk about that so Emotional Breakdown™️ will have to do. Now that I've done a bunch of research and self-examination it was more of a PTSD reaction, a prolonged emotional flashback that I didn't know how to stop and with no outside relief or help.

Long post under cut

I was unfortunately mentally lucid and reacting to very real things but in an emotionally disproportionate way... which was actually not very impressive at all since everything but the sobbing and some talking to myself was happening on the inside, in the foetal position in my pitch black room because who knew? Stress in the neck or face sets off the mega migraines 🙃.

Very uncinematic. Barely an inconvenience to my flatmates. I force-fed myself bread, water and whatever meds might cause withdrawal if discontinued, fed Lily her pain meds at around the same time every night. I'm going to get a good grade in not being a danger to anyone or myself 👍👍👍

I began sedating myself as soon as the urges for inside pain to be visible on the outside got strong enough to actually visualize concrete ideas. Nothing with withdrawal potential: a few months worth of anti allergy meds, M eventually called the doctor once I ran out and had to tap in to my sleep meds, 5 days in to the full-blown meltdown.

Why sedation? I happen (lol no, it's actually pretty related to the ptsd) to be an expert on all things suicide and didn't want those thoughts to even get close to started.

My doctor is stellar, she believed me, didn't act like my grief was unwarranted, prescribed more anti-histamines and kindly but firmly told me to stop blaming myself for other people's choices, we just can't control how other people choose to act. The self loathing had started from a seemingly obvious pattern and spiralled way out of any kind of logic. That grounded me a little on Wednesday.

We talked over my options : the local psych ward is the opposite of restful or safe for migraines; the care homes have waiting lists, especially in summer when people drop off the elders to go on holiday but she's going to try and find me a slot if the current home stability breaks again. Not having any extended family or local friends meant no escape and that didn't help mentally either.

I feel like I've had a really bad flu, I feel very fragile. I feel like things have been very unfair but also not safe enough to indulge any anger about it, not here and now so a sort of numbness has settled in... emotional that is, the migraines are stomping my head and also irritating the bowels because why not add insult to injury? 😂

Mum's violent mood swings were over on Thursday morning and on Friday I decided I had to face life, get back in the saddle before fear could kick in and helped sis go to an appointment that she was very nervous about. Just about managed then crashed the rest of the day.

It felt good to be useful 😊💖and I needed the perspective of there being a whole wide world out there, not just the lovely tumblr folks in my phone 🌸💕🌸 who are close but also unreachable.

Moral of the story, if there is a moral to any of this, … ? Repressing your fears and emotional pain for 30 years will turn you into a sobbing blob with little to no control so don't assume you're handling things because, yes technically you are, until your last tether breaks and then you're just a trauma response at full volume.

Oh and flashbacks don't automatically happen visually or in nightmares like in the movies. I already knew that for me, specific memory flashbacks seem to cause a hollow and weak nauseating feeling like when adrenaline is wearing off but now I know emotional flashbacks are more of a paralysing overwhelming series of waves of many strong feelings. One of the more identifiable red flags among the general mess of emotion for future episodes would probably be irrational and very potent guilt/shame.

So uh yeah, sorry I haven't checked in for over a week or done much of anything, I'll try and catch up as soon as I can 🥰

So now it's beyond confirmed : I have PTSD from stuff that ended over a decade ago, stuff from far older too, you think time heals all but it doesn't heal untreated wounds and I'm going to seek treatment no matter what.

It's mortifying to talk about but if I tell you lovely people, well, I can't run from it any more.

I'm also going to need to set boundaries with some very fragile people but not without the help of an expert, I've been caring for sis and her borderline tendencies for over a year this time around and not been allowed to set limits. Mum's crossed a line she can't even see yet. It could be months before that's a subject we can safely approach.

I have a post in my drafts from last November about finding great happiness in a bare room of a few boxes, a mattress and the internet and how I'd be quite content to live that way again: peace really is worth it. It's like a letter to myself that this was coming and reassurance that I've been happy before despite frightening change and financial poverty.

I have duties to my family and they too have been good to me - there's the expectation that therapy will "toughen me up" to better manage but I can tell from just that disastrous first session with mum present, that boundaries will be part of the deal. That's the most frightening and delicate part. I have been eldest daughter, big sis, selfless friend and good kid™️/parenting kid from my very first memories, any change will be perceived as not being me any more (maybe even to myself), it'll also go against deeply ingrained societal and personal habits.

__________

In other news Lily turned 16, she is happy and healthy. She's been with me for 9 years.

I was hoping to train a new therapy dog as she's been retired for a couple of years and even lined up a sweetheart of a rescue called Vanina. That can't happen yet. Or maybe that's something I need. Idk.

I don't expect any major pivot in the doll hobby, watch habits or Patreon/support to friends at this point but it's all in the air.

Looking forward to getting back to normal and also cherishing (in an odd sort of way, maybe that's not the right word) this moment as a "survived it!!" thing but also "WOW you needed help and it's overdue".

Take care of yourselves lovely people. See you soon.

[soothsayerclub]

SOOTHSAYER CLUB 🔮

haiiiiiii X3 my name is Fairyfly, but you can also call me Wander, Fink, or really anything that’s polite XD I'm 23, I'm an artist, programmer, and explorer from St. Louis, Missouri. I'm ALSO a member of an endangered speciez - the scemo :o I'm trying to find more scene, emo, goth, or generally alt ppl to hang out with, who are also 21 or older!! ★

LEARN MOAR BELOW :D

WAT IS THIS PLACE

( -w•)╦̵̵̿╤─ --💥💥 I'm making this page 2 try to find other creeps and freakz in the area!! I'll be posting about what I'm up 2 when I'm out and about in public spacez or in a hangout spot online, so you can have teh opportunity to join meh!!! And hopefully I won't get killed along the way X3

WAT IS THE SOOTHSAYER CLUB??

I hope this place can be a bit of a local network one day!! I don't know where 2 find other scene or emo ppl IRL. I even went to a "goth bar" recently, and it looked like everyone was cosplaying characters from The Office @_@ It waz all normies. People were wearing fucking KHAKIS. It'd be nice if we could find each other, so maybe other ppl could go 2 this blawg 2 find out where to meet ppl like them :3

WHO EVEN ARE YOU???

Like I said, my name is Fairyfly/Fink/Wander/whatever!! I use primarily she/her pronounz in public 2 not get hatecrimed X3 I'm 23 yearz old, mah birthday is in October. I'm plural but we prolly won't talk about that :P I don't drink, but I don't mind when otherz do! I don't drive, but I'm a proficient bus uzer!! I'm scemo. I am tired of NOBODY MAKING ANY FUCKING WEIRD LIFESTYLE CHOICES ANYMORE Xx.

Nobody I run into is weird or cringe or has ANY convictions - I mean, ppl SAY cringe culture iz dead, but then they're wayyyy too plugged in to mean it. SO I guess I'm anti social media. I dont really wanna hang out if u use tiktok.

I work nights Monday thru Friday, and am nocturnal O_o

WHAT I BELIEVE: Queer rights are human rights. Black lives matter. Be a decent fucking person to homeless people, even if you can't give them anything. I will address u by whatever name and pronounz u choose, unless you're like trying to pull some genie logic shit and pick something rude. I'm fine with watever u are or wanna label urself, including contradictory labelz. I am pro furries, therianz, kin of any kind, and people who are plural for any reason. PIRATE MUSIC. Shoplift CAREFULLY ^_^ FUCK COPS. Don't start fights u can't survive tho LOL. Fat people don't need to be hot to deserve ur respect, but ALSO fat people are hot.

THINGS I LIKE: Making kandi, playing DDR, Jhonen Vasquez's works, the bus, flip phones, weird pedantic people, obsessives, music that sounds bad, underground bands, local concerts, St. Louis, bugs, amphibians, pigs, scene culture, emos and goths, debate, MP3 players (I LOVE MINE I'm so sad it broke LOL I'm buying a new one SOON tho), people with uneven eye makeup and no lipstick, lazy eyes, rainbows, thrifting, oddities, antique malls, sushi, meeting new people, trying new things, urban exploring, ZOMBIES, horror.

THINGS I HATE: People more interested in the optics of discourse and using the Right Terms to be an asshole 2 u than they are actually investing or acting on social justice or basic kindness. Advertisements and being advertised to. Hot people, social media, fandom. Has anyone noticed they don't let ugly people be in movies anymore? Even background characters have faces acceptable for Instagram, like weirdly smoothed out. EVEN the kids and the elderly are like. Macy's ad kids and old people. I HATE that. I don't like anime, sorry. If you try to show me a short form video on YouTube or Tiktok I'll throw up on us both. Oh and if you use algospeak (sewerslide, unalived, are you restarted, r/a/p/e, etc.) to my face I will peel yours off.

Errr IDK I'll add more later XD

[lilyu23]

Naruto, on top of Sasuke after doing the deed with a smiling Sasuke underneath: “You know….I know you were told all throughout your lifetime but...you’re so damned beautiful when you smile.”

Sasuke, sobering up, embarrassed: “And?”

Naruto: “And a cocky bastard too. Forget I even said anything.”

Sasuke: “What would you want me to say?”

Naruto: “I don’t know. Be thankful? Say you’ll try to smile more often, maybe?”

Sasuke: “It takes a special brand of idiot to get me to.”

Naruto: “You’re a jerk.”

[pintobordeaux]

to elaborate:

Bruce terrorizes Superman villains with just angry glares and growls.

Clark has to learn to live in a not invulnerable body.

Clark on his first night as Batman: "Ouch! You stabbed me! It hurts!!!!"

Everyone thinks Batman has gone completely insane and might turn into a new Joker.

The Pentagon is this close from activating their anti-Superman plan because the man looks one inconvenience away from a worldwide dictatorial regime.

Bruce has to learn to hold his strength back because he breaks absolutely EVERYTHING.

obligatory NSFW: they masturbate to see how the other's body works (bc of course Clark has alien genitals).

Bruce starting to have blood pressure issues from having to act meek with all the ppl shitting on him at work.

Clark not putting up AT ALL with Riddler's schemes and riddles and stops him by entirely other means.

Clark getting anxiety from having to be in the spotlight all the time and being chased by ladies.

@jellyfitzjelly OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. Yes this 100000000000x this!!! (You sent it in two messages so I screenshoted the first for context for everyone and I’m using the second as the answer since I didn’t wanna transcribe it lol)

I am WEAK in the soul for body switching fics and headcannons. To add on more thoughts to your thoughts

The absolute body horror/dysmorphia/dissociation at being in a body but not your body but still having that vouyerustic fascination at being able to explore someone else’s body from your own consciousness.

^^^ I am 100% on my bullshit about those “I have a crush but we haven’t said anything or been close yet and it’s so wrong but this is my opportunity to get as close as possible to them in a way I’ve been dreaming about” tropes.

The uncanny valley at seeing the other’s expressions on their face! Like Batman’s signature scowl on Superman’s normally cheery face. Or Clark’s sunbeam smile on Batman.

An excuse to push them together to work through it! Maybe secret phone calls alllll day to each other. “How do you deal with the Wayne enterprise board?” “I broke another door handle. What now?” Just so many options.

Do they try to hide it? CAN they hide it? If not who figures it out first?!? If they don’t hide it now what? What do they do with their time?

I 100% believe that Bruce would make Clark practice sparring/ hand to hand combat in Bruce’s body. Just let the implications of that sink in. Are those thoughts nice and marinated yet? Because YES.

Do they have the angst and unsureness of “this might be forever?” Or the bittersweet relief of “we only have _ amount of time to experience each other like this.”

And on that note - if it’s established relationship Superbat. O.M.G. The wonderful idea that they get to use this opportunity to get to know each other in ways they never could under any other circumstance.

Like imagine Clark finds out all the little things bruce has been hiding. Maybe Bruce actively suppresses blushing every time Clark runs a finger up his arm. He had no idea. And Bruce finds out that while he knew Clark doesn’t need to eat he actively craves certain things sometimes. They use this to learn more about each other and carry that over into a stronger relationship once they’re switched back.

My obligatory NSFW addition - sleeping together. Is it an act of ego? Sure, maybe. But the body is a shell to house the person they love. That can change and they’ll still love them no matter what. I wanna see some fic that just goes for it. Let Bruce as clark sleep with Clark as Bruce. No cop out ‘this is too weird.’ Na bro it’s interesting and novel and Batman is a detective who loves puzzles, and Clark is an investigative journalist. You bet your ass they’ll sleep with their partner who physically looks like themselves.

Second NSFW addition - in Smallville the heat vision is absolutely first triggered by horny feelings. I just want Bruce to have to experience that and Clark having to bumble through and explain it to Bruce. But then Bruce’s mind immediately goes to “so you have to be turned on to use heat vision!?” And letting flashbacks of all of the times he’s seen Clark use it.

And if you wanna go the public/political/social investigation route - ooooo boy! How does each of them handle that stress? Are any aspects of each other’s life harder than they thought? More pleasurable? Surprising?

Does bruce cry big alligator tears when visiting Martha Kent and she calls him “son” and looks at him with such love? Sources say yes. (Sources are my head)

Okay okay but also if they don’t know each other’s identity when the switch happens?!!?!!! Wouldn’t that be something? Alllllll the identity reveal. And the mad dash to find each other to help hide both secrets from the world. Do they form an initial alliance? Lay it all out?

Alternatively, what if Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent body switched. Neither knows the other’s superhero identity. But the sheer panic from Clark about Bruce using super strength and immediately finding out. And Bruce panicking because Alfred doesn’t know he’s not him. What if he says something in 2 seconds upon arriving home about anything batman related and this investigative journalist will now immediately know who batman is.

I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about this. Not enough cohesive ones to write something. But A LOT of thoughts and feelings.

[incarnateirony]

Gotta admit, I'm a bit anti Jarpad. Just because he comes off as entitled. BUT given how he and his wife have their hands in the fans pockets EVERY SINGLE DAY, I'd have thought he was far more minted going forward than Jensen. Neither have anything to worry about.

Corollary of that is Jarpad seems to know how to spend, his wife dresses in 10 grand of clothes daily and he wears 200k of watch on his wrist. Investment watches are usually kept pristine, not worn daily. His wife wears a 1.5m engagement ring. They frequently put pictures of the house on her blog and it's stuffed full of expensive crap. I'd feel claustrophobic living there, seriously.

Please correct my points, cos I'm really interested!

1. Lol-jackles (who is a bit of an arsehole IMHO) said JP would be getting the same for Walker as for SPN and extra (cut of profits as exec), so that's around $200,000 dollars per episode. The ensemble cast of Walker looks really expensive so that surprised me. Do you think that's true?

2. He shoves his overpriced vitamins #Mantrafamily down his fans throat and they are EXPENSIVE. He's an investor, though he's changed his story on his position several times. How much do you get from them?

3. He apparently owns a lot of property, including student housing in Austin.

4. He is owner or part owner of San Jac and Stereophonic in Austin.

5. His wife shills products daily on her blog

FYI, I HATE the "family" tag. The family is the fans not the stars. My test, I know my family's phone number and they wouldn't get an injunction if I went to anyone of their houses. Apply that test to J2?

Fans are PRODUCT to actors and definitely to Jarpad "I care so much I want you to feel better so buy my yellow vitamin wee"

I mean I never said Jared would end up homeless in a box. You can be blackballed and have money in the bank, these two statements have nothing to do with each other.

I haven't checked the Walker payrole. That statement could be true, but I'd say to take it with a grain of salt until you see a receipt about his paygrade. For example, on SPN last I knew he was making about 125K per episode (Jensen was 175K, Misha was just over 100K).

Jensen's value was higher due to a mix of... well, quality, quality of his representation, and the fact he had a few other skills in his pocket on access like directing.

Jared being a producer on Walker likely is worth a paygrade boost, and he headlines the show, truly. It's a matter of how his agent negotiated his worth.

On the other hand, it would be INCREDIBLY stupid for CBS/CW to accept a pitch that high on Jared on a show that hadn't been tested for its success. If Walker was still running its 0.3X in appropriate follow-up to SPN on the same TV season, sure. I guess. But with its fairly stable 0.15 for the last bazillion episodes that is rounding it up or down to 0.1 or 0.2 depending on its thousandths, that is baaaad. The first season should have been more conservative on its paygrades, but CW isn't known for the wisest business decisions and may have highly overestimated its potential appeal, in which case--LOL.

There is some wiggle room on potential budget because at a base, Walker is not a very expensive show to shoot, as it can just drop a camera in real world locations and roll from there. Very little CGI and the like. Again, I'd have to review what the show budget is to see what's going on.

Now to clear up some other things:

Jared does not actually own Stereotype. His friend owns Stereotype. He supported them early on with a small investment but his respective share is not enough to be a decision maker or an "owner" any more than anybody else that owns some stock in a company does. San Jac he is one of the owners of. One of. He holds far larger investment in it with several friends, so he is one of a few co-owners.

Things Jared owns:

Several empty lots

His fancy ass house everybody knows about worth about 5 million (Gen's been given power of attorney)

The "student housing" is:

a 4 bed, 2.5 bath home also for families, that can be arranged like a multifamily unit if needed. If you saw it from the street, you'd go "awww, that's a cute house." (some dude nobody knows has power of attorney--he owns a building company, not gonna be more specific)

a 3 bed, 2 bath home (power of attorney guy has this too)

A funky little duplex with 4 bedrooms per unit, best I can tell. (power of attorney guy has this too)

A singlefamily 3 bed home (different power of attorney guy)

One random suite in a business building with like 200 suites granted to him by a family member

The three with matching "power of attorney" is basically the three rentable ones so Jared himself doesn't have to be your landlord. In total there's 15 bedrooms between three properties (one truly multifamily, one arrangeable-as). These properties aren't located anywhere near each other. There's another 3 bedroom home in there that may be rentable. And some office space that got passed to him and basic cross searching in the past brought up a billion bankruptcy filings so I'm pretty sure it was "quick, Jared, take this".

jared doesn't own some giant mega campus complex. Jared owns a few homes that in theory could be rented out to students. This isn't unusual nor is this something the Ackles don't have too. Jared is the equivalent of that dude you find that owns a couple of houses and rents them out, but he goes through a property management agency by proxy of a building company that does the renovations that puts it in there for him, on 3/4 homes. He's not a landlord titan. He's a guy with a fraction of side income by the time it gets to him on a few properties.

So let's get that set straight before anybody makes it sound like Jared floats the student housing business in some lucrative scooby doo real estate scheme.

AND THEN THERE'S MANTRA:

Yes, Jared is a co-founder of Mantra. Which is honestly... god, don't get me started on why Jared Padalecki should not be simultaneously broadcasting for mental health and then packing nootropics down people's throats. (x for general nootropics) (x for phenibut in particular, which might explain his outburst on SM)

(That's just the one that jumps out as most problematic but the cocktails involved could really just not go over well with the wrong person, some of these things are like mixing OTC ritalin and SSRIs)

At the end of the day, regardless of the ethicality of mantra, I mean, sure, it's a business decision. It makes money. At the end of the day, though, this is not a career move.

Again, nobody ever said Jared's gonna end up living homeless in a box eating beans out of a can. The discussion is whether or not he has arranged himself a viable career forward in media.

Renting out a couple homes by proxy isn't gonna land him roles.

Selling miracle water that turns people into paranoid messes (but with great memory!!) isn't gonna land him roles.

Owning a bar isn't going to land him roles.

None of this actually adds any content to the discussion of Jared Padalecki's professional media career, which his stans keep trying to enter to the conversation to offset discussion of Ackles' business acumen in the acting field.

These are nonstarters in the conversation, at the end of the day. I just wanted to set straight some general details about them.

Jared has a future with an INCOME, but that doesn't mean he's arranged a future in MEDIA. And leave it from Jarpad stans to try to fuck up that conversation.

News flash: Rich White Man Bought Stuff To Make Money. More at 11.

The inability to see how this isn't the same as like. Owning a production company. And owning a record label. And owning a publisher (mostly for vinyls but other potential). And having establishment across multiple distributors and production hubs (WB, Amazon) as a path forward in media is B A F F L I N G.

[mariaiscrafting]

ahhhh ty ty ty <3

ok, so I think that what makes Dream act this way (iykyk) is how dreamwastaken became so big so quickly. and by quick I mean fucking lightning speed.

he didn't have enough time to learn enough about cc etiquette, especially in these three aspects: influence, boundaries and fanbase/stans/whatever you call it. I'll try to explain it:

• Influence: Does he know the influence he has? Like, when he hears that he is the myct with the largest fanbase, does he really process that? I remember he talked about not being able to control all of his fanbase and there's bad apples everywhere -- which is true, and that only like 1% of his fanbase breaks his boundaries (that include sending hate for him, harassing, doxing, etc. yk, basic twitter culture lol) but, honey, with your big ass fanbase, 1% is still a lot of people. As a content creator you *have* to be aware of that.

let's take the hbomb situation. First off, as a streamer, it's you that set the mood of the stream. Even if he was only messing around with his pals, even if they did say to do not send hate to hbomb, dt dunking on him created a toxic environment, which caused his fans being toxic towards hbomb and you know what happens next. Hell, when this happened, I was watching Tapl and he was watching them and he was crying laughing over them screaming bc they were just. so loud and so aggressive that it was kinda ??? Sirs, this is literally a Minecraft Stream lmaooo

my point is, that was not the road that dreamwastaken, 21M fans, should've taken. he don't condone his fans actions but he knows his fans are diehard and will always be on his side, he should be more careful before stating negative opinions, especially if its towards another person.

• Boundaries and Fanbase: He posted a list of his boundaries a while ago, idk if you know or seen it (btw please george copy your bestie for the love of god <3) but I'm not talking about those boundaries, I'm talking about the basic boundaries between cc and viewer. boundaries that, in my opinion, should exist between cc and viewer. I get that Dream is an open person, an oversharing type of open person if I may add, but I think he should take a step back regardless. When I heard that he was taking a time from twitter, I genuinely got so glad, not because he couldn't start any drama then, but because it would do so so good for his mental health. I'm not even that fond of him, it's just that for me, any cc taking a break or outright leaving twitter is a win for me. I know how RSD is hard to deal and honestly letting shit out it's better but dream you have dt you have bbh so please don't make things worse online 😭 I know how good can be to feel validation from millions of people but. it's not a good idea, especially in the state that his fanbase is on rn (this topic is kinda sensitive to talk abt for me bc people be outright ableist and hide it as criticism like. say that shit's not helping his reputation and whatever without acting like he's fucking. manipulating his fanbase for being affected by his rsd💀 or, on the other hand, don't say that hes just being adhd🤪 when he's just being an asshole like damn that's a Him thing bro lol)

(omg it's so big I'm so sorry and theres a part two I'm so sorry tumblr user messed-up-gal ToT) - morango 1/2

pt. 2:

Dream is the proof that the people who loves you can be your downfall. istg. Have you noticed that every drama that Dream enters, people usually get more mad abt how his fanbase reacts (85% they'll react in a bad way) than Dream himself? it's not always, but its definitely more likely. I'm not saying Dream is saint, he Is petty and his ego does him dirty and made him choke multiple times before,, But! i dont think hes a bad guy. he's literally just a dude. ok, he's a 21yr old white gamer man that has a trumpie past (maybe?? idk. I think hes cured now ig lol) so he's bound to do some shitty things but he still tries to get better and hopefully he'll mature. 21 is old enough but it's still so young, yk? I kind of lost my mind during the end and my eyes are literally begging to be closed so tl;dr: Its gonna be hard for him to become a better cc bc his fans don't let him be criticized (by infantilizing his adhd symptoms or the mob mentality as soon as someone says anything abt him), the honest criticism get lost between lies from antis that don't know shit, he still has a lot of growing up to do and overall he became famous too fast and he needs to learn things even faster bc as soon as there's not a single one dream hater on sight they'll turn their back and attack him instead lmao I hate twitter i definitely have more to say but I'm tired and my memory is shit. just-- hate dream if you want, love dream if you want, nobody is obligated to have an opinion but I wanted to express mine. have a lovely day! -morango 2/2

Aight, there's a lot to unpack here, so Imma try to only go into the points I have something to add to (here's what I talk about in each paragraph, if you want to jump to a specific point):

Speed of Dream's rise to fame

The "bad apples" in the Dream fanbase

Post-MCC HBomb stream

Not condoning versus actually condemning his fans

Manipulation & RSD

Criticism of Dream, his fanbase, and his brand

The “just a dude” argument, flipped

First, I agree that one of the many factors that has resulted in the current image Dream has set up for himself, the way his fanbase functions, the ways people hate on him, and the way the Dream brand functions, is the speed of his rise to fame. It's unique, and there are probably a hundred social/psychological angles that could be used to examine the exact effects of that speed upon all of these facets of the Dream Name; did rapid fame beget the rapid rise of unrighteous hatred, did those waves of hatred then instigate the rise of a surprisingly overdefensive fanbase, did that rapid fame get to his head and/or result in an inability to appropriately handle all the after-effects of rapid fame, etc.? That point you bring up, about how the speed of his rise to fame requires him to learn even more quickly, is so interesting to me. I think that maybe Dream expected to get pretty famous pretty quickly, hence the preparedness in regards to some mechanics of influencer fame- merchandise, business-building, networking, knowing how to manage his fanbase to best benefit him. But I don't think he expected to get this famous this quickly. This is all speculation of course, as are this entire post and your ask, but I think that he just couldn't anticipate having to learn how to handle enmasse controversy, waves of antis, or every Youtuber speculating/knowing about him; and yeah, that results in him having to learn all of these things very quickly, lest he allow his whole brand and fandom to fall apart.

Second, I disagree with the frequent argument that Dream's fanbase is only marginally toxic. Personally, I think that the circumstances of Dream's fame, his personality and management of his fanbase, and his brand of content have resulted in the very specific kind of stan that Dream stans are. I don't think this is simply a case of "all fandoms have a small percentage of assholes who take it too far;" rather, the nature of the community itself breeds the kind of mentality of "an asshole who takes it too far." I only even know this because I was a Dream fan (kinda a stan, I'm ngl). At one time, I watched every single Dreamwastaken & Dream Team video multiple times; I listened to the Manhunts on repeat, as though they were podcasts; I followed mostly smiletwt and dttwt accounts on mcyttwt; I had upwards of 10 tabs for AO3 DNF fics open on my phone at a time; I watched DNF and Dream Team Being A Family-esque compilations on repeat; I watched every George and Sapnap alt stream I possibly could; I went out of my way to defend Dream against Redditors and Twitter antis regarding the cheating scandal. For the latter half of 2020, and a couple months of 2021, I lived and breathed this part of the fandom; so when I say that Dream stans are a whole other breed than any other kind of mcyttwt stan, I say that because I used to be like that, too. I usually use parasocial very loosely or ironically, but Dream stans are genuinely one of the most parasocial fanbases I have ever seen or been a part of. The level of investment Dream stans have in this man's life, the lengths they will go to to defend him, the amount of psychonalysis and digging they do on his life and character, the amount of emotion he can evoke in them- it's taken to another level, man. This isn't just characteristic of a fraction of his fanbase; this is what the fanbase is like as a whole.

Third, I partially disagree with your take on the HBomb thing, but not in the way one might think? I actually empathize with the way they reacted much more than I thought I would, simply because I suspect I have RSD (also suspect I have ADHD, have for several months now) and I can see myself getting insanely frustrated because of something like that. Like yeah, it was "just a MC stream" or "just an MC game," but that's kinda disregarding the fact that something that might seem like "just a [insert inconsequential thing]" to a rational mind might have a major emotional consequence/take a major emotional toll on someone with RSD, or really anyone who gets easily impatient/angry about video games (Sapnap reminds me of many of my friends, in that way). The issues I, personally, had with the way they handled the HBomb situation is that these are simply explanations and reasons for my empathy; they are not excuses. I have no excuse when I get irrationally angry about something inconsequential in my own life, for a couple of reasons. One, because I am an adult and I need to learn how to handle my reactions and manage my own anger. Two, because as someone with many mental problems, it is my responsibility to learn coping mechanisms to ensure my own emotional stability and livelihood; this includes learning whatever I need to handle RSD- whether that be isolating myself from others when I know I will become violently/passionately angry about something, creating and sustaining a support system that can get me through bouts of extreme emotion, finding healthy emotional outlets for my negative emotions that won't harm myself or others, or a combination thereof. I don't think what they said about HBomb post-MCC was an irreversibly horrible thing, or anything. I think there were errors committed by two men who should be fully capable of foreseeing and preventing those errors, but I don't unconditionally hate Dream or Sapnap for the post-MCC stream or comments. I just wish they had made amends quickly, publicly, and sufficiently, because the greatest consequences from the whole thing weren't even from those two criticizing HBomb themselves; they were from the waves of backlash because of their immense influence on the MCYT fandom, which could've been prevented, if they had acted maturedly and responsibly after the stream.

Fourth, you’re right, that he doesn’t seem to condone his fans’ behavior. I detest the frequent anti argument that one of the reasons Dream should be criticized is because he explicitly uses his fanbase to attack others, or something of the sort. Personally, I think he created his fanbase in a very specific way and interacts with them in such a way so as to benefit him as much as possible, yes, but he never actually tells his fanbase to go and yell at or harrass anyone. Still, there is a significant difference between not condoning something and condemning something. It might seem unfair, and it might be annoying of me to say this, but I truly think that someone with this large a fanbase, especially one as overzealous as Dream’s, needs to be condemned every single time it goes on some kind of rampage/harrassment campaign. Either that, or Dream needs to make a definitive, permanent statement against any kind of harrassment of others on his behalf. I know he’ll occassionally make the odd tweet or serious stream addressing something his fanbase did, but one of the many reasons his fanbase keeps doing the same damn thing is because he’s so lukewarm and spotty about this condemnation. A fanbase like his needs to be given explicit guidance and boundaries for the numerous things they do in his defense- harrassing/doxing antis, harrassing people who criticize him who aren’t antis (respectful criticism, other CCs, other MCYT stans, etc.), harrassing the people he critcizes (i.e., HBomb), speculating about his personal life (his relationship with his gf, his mental health/ADHD, his romantic life, his childhood, etc.), and speculating about his relationships with his friends and colleagues.  My personal ideology is that, if you have significant influence over someone or a group of people, you are at least somewhat responsible for the things those people do or don’t do, if it at all relates back to you. I’m so fucking tired of the argument that CCs aren’t responsible for what their fans do. Obviously they aren’t responsible for every single one of their fans, and obviously they can’t fully control their fans at the end of the day. But I think there are certain things that reach such a level of extremity that does make those CCs responsible. This can be measured by either scale or intensity; that is to say, if a CC’s fanbase does things on an extremely large scale, or one person from/a fraction of the fanbase does something really extreme, then the CC is made all the more responsible. Another CC I’ve always had trouble discussing with other people on this subject is Pewdiepie, in particular, about the extremists in his fanbase. Because the things a small handful of his fans have done in reference to him and/or in his name were so fucking extreme, I thought Pewdiepie had to take at least some responsibilty. Along a similar vein, because the things Dream’s general fanbase does are so widespread and on such a massive scale, Dream has to take at least some responsibility.

Fifth, okay. Hmmm. I want to tackle this point you made about the ableism he faces in some criticism of him carefully and with empathy, but not coddling. One, I do think a lot of the criticism he receives for the ways he handles criticism (post-cheating Tweets, reactions to John Swan, post-MCC HBomb stream, etc.), disregard his RSD and can be oftentimes ableist. I’ve actually encountered people irl who criticize this aspect of Dream’s character, and have had to explain to them their disregard for how ADHD/RSD affect neurodivergent people’s reactions to criticism. But - and this is a big, and very controversial but - I think mentally ill/disordered people can 100% leverage their mental illness/disorders for the sake of manipulation. This is actually something I’ve learned from a psychiatrist, regarding the ways people I know and I handle our anxiety and depression. This manipulation can be unwitting or intentional, but it is entirely possible, and the possibility shouldn’t be entirely dismissed as ableist. Living with a mental illness or disorder that others know about/that you are very public about puts you in an interesting position to receive frequent sympathy, empathy, and/or pity. I’m not saying that empathy for Dream having ADHD/RSD is entirely unjustified; on the contrary, I have frequently expressed how I can relate to his ADHD symptoms and have defended him for expressing those symptoms, both on mcytblr and in real life. I am saying that Dream fans tend to use his ADHD as a kind of shield for a lot of criticism levied against him, including the supposition that he could be manipulating his fanbase to defend him because of his public expressions of RSD. So yes, my theory is that Dream knows how to levy every aspect of his life for his personal gain and for the growth of his brand, and that includes his ADHD. I think he has courage for his openess about his ADHD, I think his openness has contributed to the rise in awareness of mental health and empathy for neurodivergent people within Gen Z, and I think at least some of his expressions of RSD publicly/online weren’t intentionally made public. All that being said, I also think he has to know just how much his fanbase cares about defending him for his ADHD, and I think he has to know that some of the things he does related to his neurodivergence endear him to his audience, in a coddling, baby-ing, mildly ableist sorta way.  Maybe this is all incredibly presumptuous of me. Of course, I can never know the real intentions behind any Dream video, Tweet, or stream. Maybe I’m just projecting, because I can see myself doing just this, if I had the maturity I had circa 2018-2019. Idfk know, man.

Sixth, I actually agree with you here, people probably do get more mad at his fanbase than him. Dream puts out content pretty seldomly, considering the frequency of content output for other Youtubers/streamers in his field/at his brand size. And yet, he has received masses of criticism. Considering that the things Dream himself does/says do not entirely correlate with the amount of criticism he receives, I think it’s a logical assumption that a lot of that criticism actually goes back to the size of his presence online, rather than the man himself. That is to say, because of the massive community he’s amassed, the exponential growth of his fanbase, their presence on every single social media site and in virtually every single Internet space/fandom, and the size of his metaphysical presence in his fields, Dream is much bigger than the man himself, so the criticism he receives will, at least in part, be a direct or indirect result of all these other aspects of the Dream brand.  Something I don’t think many Dream fans/stans, or even most MCYT fans in general, understand, is that Dream isn’t just “one guy” in the eyes of the Internet- at least, not anymore. He hasn’t been for nearly a year. Like Pewdiepie, Mr. Beast, and other CCs who have amassed similar levels of fame and wealth via Internet content creation, Dream is a brand now, and most people will treat him as such. He isn’t just some uwu soft boy playing Minecraft anymore. He is on a whole other level from any other MCYT in his friend circle or colleague interaction bubble. His words will never again live in a vaccum or private bubble, his friend circle will never again be under anything less than intense scrutiny, his past actions will never again be simple mistakes or silly errors, his words will never again be casual tweets or streams for laughs among a couple thousand followers. Dream’s name represents something much bigger than just the one man. As such, all aspects of his brand, including his fanbase, will tie back to him and, ultimately, to any general criticism of him.

I’m not saying I like any of this, and I actually think the evolution of influencers from people to a marketable brand with similar mechanisms, responsibilities, and liabilities as a corporation is some kind of late capitalism nightmare fuel; I’m just stating my own observations and theories as to why so much anti-Dream criticism seems to be directed at his fanbase, rather than him.

Seventh, he’s just a guy, you’re right, but I think a lot of the antis on Tumblr understand this more than you know. As I’ve seen it, the sentiment among much of the “DSMP stans DNI” crowd seems to be that of “Dream/other MCYTs are such ‘bad’ people, so why do their fans stick to these mediocre, racist men, when there are so many better people to watch/better content to consume?” We know this argument is flawed for many of the obvious reasons - the conflation of all MCYTs’ actions regardless of individual identity, the equating of a CC’s fanbase’s morality to that of the CC they enjoy watching, the exxageration of any error MCYT CCs have committed as bigotry/racism, the fundamental misunderstanding and misinformation that led antis to believe this exxageration of the facts, etc. But I want to focus on the general, underlying sentiment of, “why not watch someone better, when your creator is problematic?” Sometimes, I ask this of Dream stans. Yes, being mildly ignorant, getting involved in the scandals Dream has, and being a right-leaning/libertarian centrist in the recent past all seem like harmless things, all things considered. One could say Dream isn’t nearly as bad as many antis who are misinformed seem to believe, and that there are much worse CCs Dream stans could be watching and creating fan content for. But I think what Tumblr antis wonder is, aren’t there also much better MCYTs/CCs people could be watching and stanning? Because he’s just some guy, right? Is his content truly so exceptional or is he really so exceptional a person, that people have to stick by him, despite the things that spike up regarding his current or past actions? I think that’s what made me finally decide to stop watching Dream. I realized he was just Some Guy. The Dream Team was a comforting dynamic to indulge in, DNF was a cute ship to read and speculate about, and Manhunts were fun videos to watch; however, once the Reddit posts came out and I read them in-depth, the cost-benefit analysis tipped over to the “not worth it” side for me. I realized Dream’s content, while fun and comforting, was not entirely unique, and wasn’t worth sticking around for, given what I then knew about his past political leanings. If he is just Some Guy, then there are a hundred more like him out there. There a hundred more ships, a hundred more found family dynamics, a hundred more entertaining and skilled Minecraft players. So while I agree with you on the point of people being allowed to love him regardless because he is just a guy, at the end of the day, I think that, if we are to believe that sentiment or use that argument in such a manner, we should also understand the flip side- that, if he is just some guy, why is it worth sticking around? To that I say, maybe because people just enjoy the simple things they enjoy.

Anyways, I wholly agree with your tl;dr. Thanks for that insanely long ask, this was a fun thing to keep me occupied while I’ve been at work, facilitating Zoom sessions this whole morning.

[cutest-bug]

Interview with Adrien Agreste! Subject: The Oxygen Project.

Conducted by Alya Cesaire

Ok so I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this addition to a post I made on my main blog about Adrien low key trashing the Agreste brand the way Robert Pattinson does Twilight. I know it was meant to be more of a goofy idea but my head is full of angst and this is what I came up with at 4 a.m. lol.

Alya smiles warmly as Adrien settles into the seat across from her.

“Are you ready?” She asks. He gives her a slightly nervous smile but nods. She nods to Nino who hits record and Adriens face immediately smoothes over into a pleasant and unreadable mask. It’s actually a little freaky to watch.

It’s a Monday afternoon and they’re set up in the art room during their lunch period. Adrien looks as perfectly neutral as always. Non flashy designer labels and tousled hair that probably took 20 minutes to style. For once though, his actions will be a little less perfect and easy to swallow.

“Hi Adrien, thanks for agreeing to an interview on the Ladyblog, I’m glad we could finally do this.”

He smiles and considers for a moment before answering, tiling his head a degree, “The pleasure is mine Alya, especially since I’m the one who approached you about doing this.”

That’s true. Right after the class joined Mylene and Ivan for their protest of the Oxygen Project Adrien asked to speak with her. He was upset that he had been tricked into modeling for the project without knowing what it was for. While most of his die hard fans had gotten wind he didn’t support it, he wanted to farther remedy the situation and use his position to reach a wider audience. Of course there weren’t many platforms he could do that on behind his fathers back, hence asking for Alya’s help.

“Still, I know interviews aren’t your favorite. Otherwise I probably would have asked you a while ago.”

Adrien smiled again, a little more genuinely (the one she knew Marinette was so fond of), “I don’t really like probing questions from journalists about my personal life. The fact that you’ve never asked or taken advantage of knowing me means a lot. I trust you.”

“Personally I think it’s a little crazy you have to do all of those interviews at all. You’re only 15, your life shouldn’t be so public.”

Adrien lets the smile fall several degrees. It’s deliberate, he’s letting people see his discomfort, “Well, it kind of goes hand and hand with all of the modeling. I’m the face of the Agreste brand.”

Alya nods and looks down at the papers in her lap, “Which is the point of our interview today, really.” They had agreed on what was and wasn’t to be talked about before hand, however they don’t have a planned out dialogue. They agreed that they both do well with more organic conversation, and it’s important the interview comes off as very genuine.

Adrien nods in agreement and Alya continues, “Now that the plan for the Oxygen Project is officially canceled, it’s time to clear up what your involvement with the promotion of it was. Nearly everyone in Paris saw the ads that ran.” Unfortunately it had been to late for Mayor Bourgeois to cancel the first few days of ads. For nearly a week Adriens face played on every television in the city, telling everyone about what a great breath of fresh air the project would be.

Alya hands him the first photo in her lap. It’s of him with the class after they first arrived at the protest, looking interested but not particularly emotional yet. It’s from the video that she filmed, but there was a pretty low view rate on the protest coverage. The interview with Adrien will probably get anywhere from 3 to 5 times as many.

“What not everyone realizes is that you were present during the planned tree cutting ceremony and following protest. So what was going on for you at this point in the day Adrien?”

“Our whole class had just gone to the park to support Mylene and Ivan, our friends who lead the protest. Right after we arrived Mylene started arguing with the Mayor about whether the project was good for the environment or not.”

“That girl has a hidden fire!” Alya adds, “I have a section dedicated to activism on the blog now. The video from the whole day is there but I also posted some smaller segments explaining the conflict and a few more that Mylene recommended on how to get involved.”

Adrien gave his most genuine smile yet, “I watched those! I hope your viewers take the time to check them out. I know the super hero fights are exciting, I mean I’ve been glued to your blog from the start, but I’m glad people like Mylene and Ivan are reminding us to keep our eyes on the big picture too.”

Alya nods, “So am I. Ok, it was during this argument that the ad was first shown correct?”

Adrien lets the smile fall completely this time, “Yes. Apparently the plan was always to air it for the first time during the tree cutting ceremony. It was also the first time I’d seen it.”

“I’m sure most of our viewers have seen it already, so I’m not going to play it now,” Adrien shoots her a grateful look, “Adrien, she says kindly, “I remember how surprised you were when the ad played. Do you want to tell everyone why?”

Adrien looks down at his hands, “I hadn’t known what the ad was for when I filmed it. I thought it was another one of those silly perfume commercials.” Alya isn’t sure if him saying “silly” was a slip up or on purpose but she struggles not to laugh.

“Did someone tell you it was a perfume commercial or did you just assume when you were given the script?”

“I was told it was for perfume.”

“Can I ask who by?”

She thinks the discomfort is genuine this time. Everything else is the video isn’t that bad, but this line could bring hell for him.

“My father told me it was.”

This isn’t news for Nino or Alya but she pauses for a long moment to let viewers digest that before asking her next question, “Do you know why he lied to you?”

“I suppose he thought I wouldn’t be ok with doing it otherwise.”

Alya smiles, a little proud, before handing him another picture. She’ll edit them into the screen for viewers to see later, “Well he thought correctly. Here’s a picture of you standing with Mylene and our friend Marinette, forming a physical barrier so the trees wouldn’t be cut down,” she pauses for a moment while Adrien examines the picture, “I gotta say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so angry.”

“I had just found out my image was going to be used to promote an anti-ecological plan that would harm our city. My friends had spent months trying to prevent it. I was furious.”

And Bam! As soon as she posts this video Adrien’s empty head, pretty face, good boy persona is shattered. He just admitted to having feelings. Angry ones. Directed at his father. Not to mention opinions on political matters. That is not the pretty face most of Paris is familiar with and fawns over.

“I’d be angry too,” Alya sympathizes.

Adrien puts the photo down and looks at her with a serious expression, “That’s the main reason I wanted to do this interview. For better or worse I have a lot of sway with my fans and public opinion. There’s still some controversy about the Oxygen Project being canceled so I want to be very clear that I do not stand with it,” he looks directly into the camera, “The oxygen project would have only helped the people profiting from it. The only ethical solutions for our city, and the whole world, are complicated, long term, sustainable options that will protect and rejuvenate our planet. No one has said it better than Mylene and Ivan so please go check out those videos under the activism section. Help if you can, and spread the word about the truth. It’s important that people know when they’re being lied to by a corporate campaign.”

Alya realized she stopped breathing for a moment because oh my god that was so good. She manages to quietly clear her throat and thank Adrien for the interview again. He plasters back on his polite smile and they give a brief hug before she gestures to Nino to stop filming.

“OH MAN! That was awesome!” Nino pulls Adrien into a one armed hug and doesn’t let go.

Adrien smiles a little bashfully, “You think? It wasn’t to much?”

“No way Adrien,” Alya cuts in, “the whole thing was great but that bit at the end? Amazing. Mylene will be thrilled.”

Nino pulls away from their friend a bit and clasps his shoulder, “Are you going to be ok though? Your old man is not going to be cool with like, any of that, is he?”

Adrien purses his lips and shrugs, “Don’t worry about my dad, I can handle him.”

Alya can see the fake nonchalance a mile away. Marinette is the queen of it after all, so she tells him, “Adrien this is really brave of you but I just want to make sure you know you’re in charge of this narrative. I probably won’t finish editing everything until tomorrow because I have a project to finish tonight. If you change your mind there’s no hard feelings. Or if there’s something you decide you want left out I’ll work some editing magic.”

Adrien smiles but her words don’t seem to relieve any tension, “Thanks Alya, it means a lot. By the way, where’s Marinette? I thought she was coming?”

“She’s probably just got caught up with something but I’ll see if she messaged me.” Alya checks her phone and realizes she left it on silent after the test last period. No texts from Marinette, but there is an akuma alert which explains her absence. She tries to ignore the immediate twinge of worry.

Adrien suddenly looks up from his own phone and rushes to grab his bag, “I actually got to go, my dad wants me home until the akuma attack is over. Best keep my head down until the bomb drops tomorrow right?” He rushes out before Alya or Nino can respond.

Nino sighs after his best friend runs out, “It’s so unfair he’s having to rectify his dad’s bad choices.”

Alya takes his hand, “I know. Something tells me this won’t be the last time he does so either. We’ll be there to support him though.” Her boyfriend gives her a soft smile and she kisses him on the cheek, “Come on, I want footage of that akuma fight.”

Nino glances down at his phone, “Actually it looks like the fight just ended a minute ago.”

“Wow that was short. It couldn’t have gone longer than the ten minutes we did the interview with Adrien for.”

“You’ll catch the next one,” he grins at her, “one way or another.”

She laughs, “okay turtle boy, let’s go get some lunch before we have to head back to class.”

They run into a slightly dejected Adrien on the way. He gives them an interview smile. They all find Marinette and get lunch. They keep the conversation light and avoid talking about the bomb Alya’s going to post tomorrow.

This is self indulgent. I really need Adrien taking some control of his life and standing up to his dad. Yes it’s painful but it’s so important that Adrien puts some distance between them in the public eye before Gabriel is revealed as Hawkmoth. I’m just hoping that can actually happen in canon but I have many fears this season.

[frostmarris]

notes: hope you enjoy! this ended up being almost twice as long as the first chapter lol but i finally got to the scene thats been in my mind for over a year

Chapter Two

If Deidara was upset when he saw her without the gloves the next morning, he didn't let it show on his face. 

Sakura steps out to find him etching shapes into the snow with the toe of his boot, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket and his breath visible in the chill of the winter morning. He looks back as he hears her shut her door, glances to her hands, and turns around to face her with a grin that never falters. She's relieved that he doesn't comment on his gift (or lack thereof) but inwardly feels guilty as she knows he's probably disappointed. But she doesn't want to ruin the gloves by wearing them before they're ready, so she'll take his silent disappointment just for this morning and make sure he sees her wearing them tomorrow.

She has the weekend off, which means today is the perfect opportunity to get the gloves taken care of and run some errands. Of course, she doesn't mention to Deidara that she's not headed to work this morning, wary that he might ask to tag along.

Not that she wouldn't mind him accompanying her for a grocery trip. It's just that her first stop is somewhere… special.

Deidara walks her to the bus stop just like always, subtly hinting for her to drop some sort of baked good off at his place sometime - "Sucks that the apples don't grow in the winter. There aren't a lot of good pie fruits in season this time of year, yeah?" - and she makes a mental note to see what she can find at the farmers market. If she has no luck there, she can always go for canned cherries or just cave and make cookies again.

Sakura waves goodbye as the bus pulls in to the stop and she ends up in a seat on the other side, her window facing the street and not letting her see when Deidara’s smile turns a little sad as he heads home.

She idly checks her emails on her phone as the bus drives its route, getting off at the third stop rather than the fifth. It's a short walk down the downtown avenue, the shops and restaurants not as busy yet as they will be later in the day, until she reaches a small antique store nestled between a smoothie shop and a dog groomer. It's only just opened and Sakura heads in, waving in greeting to the old man behind the counter next to the door.

He looks up from the watch he's tinkering with, easily recognizing Sakura and waving her off.

"Ah, the pink one again," He grumbles, that ever-present grouchy look settled on his face. "Go on, go on. Head on in - and mind the lamp! Some little shit nearly knocked it over last week."

"Yes, sir, of course!" Sakura calls with a small smile as she heads to the back of the shop. "Have a good morning, Mr. Masumi."

He answers with a dismissive, "Bah!" and she carefully makes her way through the crowded, winding path of the antique shop until she reaches a door at the back left corner. Heeding the shop owner's warning, she edges past the lamp settled on the edge of an old dresser as delicately as she can, being sure not to bump the stained glass lampshade with her elbow. Once through the door, Sakura passes a second one on her right marked 'Cleaning Supplies' and walks down the short hallway to the doorway at the end. 

This one says 'Employees Only' but she pushes it open anyways, revealing a small, empty room barely bigger than a closet. Sakura steps inside and shuts the door, not removing her gloved hand from the doorknob as she silently counts to 25 in her head.

Once she hits the last number, she turns the knob, pulls it open, and steps out into a park.

The trick had taken some getting used to, as she didn't have any real magic herself besides her accursed touch and her ability to see the dead. So, she'd had many failed attempts of counting too quickly or too slowly before she finally got the hang of it. Now she was able to come and go with ease, well-practiced after a couple years.

Sakura pulls the door closed behind her and, though she can't see it through the swirling mist contained in the space of the stone archway, she can hear it click shut. She quickly steps forward and out of the way in case there are any other arrivals, looking out over the snow-covered park fondly.

Behind her is the collection of four stacked-stone arches, each facing one of the cardinal directions and connected by short stone walls, making a perfect square. The Landing, as it's called, sits in the direct center of the small, secret park, each arch standing tall and strong and older than Sakura knows. Though the tops of the arches and the corner walls are covered with snow, she can still easily see the sigil carved into the front of each keystone, placed there by whoever had crafted the gateways.

The park, formally named Bowerfield after the flowering vines that climb a majority of the trees and those waist-height stone walls (but never the arches themselves, as they're meticulously kept away from the gates so as not to damage them or meddle with the enchantment), was a lucky find on Sakura's part.

She'd been living in the city for a few months and had no idea how to find its secret magical community - or if it even had one - until she'd happened upon a friendly soul (quite literally) who'd told her about Bowerfield. He'd been a witch while living and could tell there was something supernatural about Sakura and, after a seemingly one-sided chat in the city's library, he'd directed her to the antique shop.

And now Sakura can enter the park freely and visit the… special shops situated around the outside.

The buildings formed another perfect square, encasing the park and closing it off to the rest of the city. The few alleys between some of the buildings all ended with brick walls and the shimmering field stretched overhead kept it hidden from outside eyes. It was a more useful feature in recent years due to things like drones, but had been put in place around the same time as the Landing, from what Sakura had heard.

Bowerfield itself was located somewhere in the southern half of the city, but she wasn't quite sure where. And she wasn't about to try to figure it out. So long as she had access to the secret park, she didn't care where it was hidden.

Sakura follows one of the pebble-covered dirt paths out from the Landing and through the trees to get to one of the walls of shops, double-checking the time on her phone to make sure she wasn't too early. Several of the businesses are still closed and there are few people out and about, but she can see the lights of the storefronts and the twinkling Christmas decorations through the last section of trees, welcoming and warm.

There are a variety of shops surrounding the park. Some are specialty stores - a couple witch shops, magical tool repairs, boutiques for less-standardly shaped beings, etc. - that are able to sell their goods and conduct their services openly without the need to hide, like some places outside Bowerfield. The rest are relatively normal businesses - such as restaurants, a laundromat, the salon, a clinic, and a supermarket - but provide a safe space for people who can't easily disguise their more obviously magical features.

It was the perfect place for someone with, say, an extra set of limbs or wings to go shopping for clothes and grab lunch, all without worrying about normal humans spotting them.

Sakura's destination is a small shop on the northeast corner, strings of red and white lights decorating the face of the building and a small flock of black birds perched wherever they could. A couple of the birds - ravens, judging by the size of them - let out harsh calls as she approaches and Sakura sends the familiar birds a quick smile and a wave before she heads inside.

The ring from the bell over the door is accompanied by another bird's caw, this time from a crow that flies overhead inside the shop. It heads to the back to land on the wooden counter, hopping closer to the dark-haired woman currently securing a paper-wrapped package with sturdy string. Another raven stands just next to her, perched on one of the prongs of a driftwood branch attached to the countertop.

The woman glances up and smiles brightly as she spots Sakura, raising her hand in greeting.

"Ah, Miss Sakura! What brings you in so early?" A magpie flies down from the railing of the loft on the second floor of the shop to land on her raised hand, earning itself an amused huff from the shopkeep.

"Good morning, Mrs. Uchiha," Sakura greets, heading for the back of the store and chuckling when a blue jay drifts down from the second level and lands on her shoulder, playing with her pink hair.

The woman sighs but smiles at her, shooing both new birds away.

"I keep telling you to call me Mikoto, dear," She chastises gently, running her fingers down the crow's back. "You've been coming here long enough."

At Sakura's chuckle and nod, Mikoto's smile returns and she finishes tying off the package before securing a leather strap around it. Holding her wrist out to the perched raven, it steps over onto her arm and is then transferred to the package, its talons curling around the handle attached to the strap and soon taking to the air. Carrying the package, the raven circles the empty air of the upper level before flying out an open window high on the front of the shop, disappearing with a short call.

"Now," Mikoto says, turning to fully face Sakura. "What can I help you with?"

"Just the usual," She replies as she digs through her bag to pull out a fresh box of latex gloves and Deidara’s gift. Mikoto eyes the black gloves curiously and carefully takes them as Sakura hands everything over, a red bubble of magic appearing around the items and floating above her open hand.

"Only the normal enchantment, dear?" The witch asks, writing Sakura's name on the outside of the bubble with a finger. "I can add an anti-snagging spell to the black ones to protect the embroidery!"

Sakura smiles and nods, reaching out to let the crow curiously nip at her fingers. "That'd be nice, actually. They're a gift from a friend."

She waves off Mikoto's sly smile and rocks back on her heels as the woman laughs and heads through a door behind her. When she returns, the red bubble is gone and a second crow is perched on her shoulder, eyeing Sakura curiously.

"They'll be ready in a few hours," She transfers the crow to the driftwood perch and starts to ring her up, shooing curious beaks away from the register. "I can have Itachi deliver them if you won't be in the park around then."

"Itachi…" Sakura mutters questioningly to herself, inspecting the little stand of luck charms on the counter before she glances up at Mikoto in confirmation. "That's your eldest, right?"

The witch nods, smiling happily. 

"Yes! He's visiting for a few days, so I tricked him into working." Mikoto winks before gesturing over her shoulder. "He's probably back in the aviary finding a spot to hide away in and nap. I swear, that boy's become such a night owl!"

Sakura chuckles, vaguely able to put a face to the name, before perking up and sending her an apologetic look.

"Oh, I nearly forgot. I need a rack of phials or something similar - they work really well for propagating plant cuttings." She smiles sheepishly, hoping the witch wasn't too far in the checkout process to add anything else to her bill. "Is it too late to grab it?"

"Of course not!" Mikoto answers, laughing and waving her off. "I should have something like that up with the potion making tools in the loft, left side. Go ahead and take a look, Sakura dear."

She nods in thanks and heads for the set of stairs against the right wall of the building, quickly climbing up to the second floor. The loft itself only covered about half of the space available on the upper level, most of it reaching out from the back to stand over the check-out and a few shelves below. To the left, an arm of the loft stretches out to the front of the store, connected to the opposite wall of the stairs and just wide enough for a few displays. The main section of the loft only had a few shelves and stands, however, as most of it was clear space to give the birds access to the aviary. Against the back is a single door and several, large, open window-slots, with a few perches jutting out from the wall.

There are a couple other corvids sitting on the perches and watching Sakura as she comes up the stairs, calling in greeting and ruffling their dark feathers. She smiles and quickly steps aside as she hears a caw from behind her, letting a magpie glide past as it flies from one of the three large windows at the front of the shop right through a slot and into the aviary.

Hurrying past in case there are any other arrivals or departures, she moves towards the arm of the loft to find those phials. Typically, only Mikoto or one of her employees were allowed up onto the second level, but Sakura had been visiting for long enough that she'd become fairly good at dodging birds. She usually only visited to get her gloves, both latex and the white cotton ones she used daily, fixed up with an enchantment that protected them from her touch, but it was fun to occasionally browse the shop.

Sakura searches the shelves of bottles and tools used for standard potion making before she finds a metal rack with five glass phials, smiling in approval. As she turns to head back towards the stairs, the door to the aviary opens and a young, dark-haired man steps out. She gets a brief glance into the aviary itself, more corvids flying around the large, dome-roofed room from nest boxes to perches to feeders, but quickly refocuses on the man.

His black hair is pulled back in a low ponytail with bangs framing his face and his eyes, just as dark as his hair, look tired - especially with the dark circles. He's pale, but he doesn't have much skin showing for Sakura to be able to tell if it's just his face's complexion or not, and taller than her by at least a full head. The long sleeves of his black shirt likely keep his arms protected from talons and the collar rises halfway up his neck, neat and trim and only a few stray feathers clinging to the fabric.

He blinks at her before nodding his head in greeting, a crow following him out of the aviary before he can close the entrance. It lands on his shoulder and he reaches up to rub the base of its beak, turning to pull the door shut.

"You must be Itachi," Sakura says, holding the rack of phials carefully so that it doesn't slip against the fabric of her gloves. "It's nice to me-"

"Itachi?!" Comes Mikoto's voice from below, her sudden call making a few of the birds squawk and caw. "Finally out of the back, you lazybones?!"

Itachi sighs and moves his hand to have the crow step off onto his fingers, eyeing Sakura before heading towards the stairs with her. 

"Yes, mother," He calls back, just loud enough for her to hear. "I'm here."

"About time!" Mikoto plants her fists on her hips as they come into view, regarding her son with a fond yet motherly-disapproving look. "We've been open for nearly an hour."

He simply bows his head in apology and moves to the counter to collect the other pair of crows, one on each hand and the third perched on his forearm.

Mikoto sighs but shrugs, gesturing to Sakura, who sets the rack on the counter and digs her wallet out of her bag.

"This is Miss Sakura," The witch introduces, disappointed when Itachi only nods again. "She's a long-time customer of ours."

Itachi turns to regard her again, clicking his tongue softly when two of the crows start to squabble.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sakura," He says politely, finishing her sentiment from earlier. "Can I help you find anything?"

Sakura offers a small smile in return and shakes her head, patting the glass phials gently. "No, I'm all set. Thank you though, Itachi."

He nods again and, transferring the third crow to join the pair on his other arm, heads through the door into the backroom. Mikoto sighs once more when he's gone and sends Sakura an apologetic look.

"He's always been such a quiet boy." She shrugs and turns to grab a pen from a cup next to the register, pushing it and a sticky note pad towards her. "Before I forget, go ahead and give me your address, dear. I left my book at home, apparently. I'll pass it on to Itachi and he'll send a crow from his flock to deliver your gloves when they're ready."

Sakura nods and quickly scribbles down her address, soon helping Mikoto wrap up the glass phials once everything's paid for and tucking the package into her bag.

"Take care now, Sakura dear! It's going to snow again tonight, so watch for ice tomorrow."

She smiles and waves before heading for the front door, knowing the witch's forecast was always more accurate than the weather channel's. More black birds (and the occasional blue jay) caw and take flight as she exits the shop, but she pays them little mind and heads back towards the center of the park. Bowerfield is getting busier now that the day is fully underway and, with no other errands to run in the secret park, she's ready to head back out into the city, take a short walk over to the farmers market, grab some groceries, and head home.

Going back through one of the Landing's portals is a little tricky, but Sakura’s much more confident than she was a year ago. She simply reaches a hand into the wall of swirling mist, feels around until she finds a doorknob, thinks of the antique shop, and opens the door. The familiar muffled creak lets her know she's on track and she steps through the mist, entering the small Employees Only room at the back of the shop.

With the door pushed shut once more, she waits 25 seconds exactly and pulls it open, smiling as she finds the short hallway in front of her once again.

There's a few people idly browsing the shop when she leaves the backroom behind and a couple near the display of porcelain dolls send her odd looks when they see her step out, but Sakura simply heads to the front, offers Mr. Masumi a wave in farewell (to which he replies with a short grunt but a wave in reply as well), and steps out onto the street. The air feels different outside of Bowerfield, but Sakura's sure it has to do with the thrum of magic that fills the park, making everything feel duller by comparison for the first half hour or so that she’s back in the normal city.

She walks back the way she’d come but turns when she reaches the corner of the block, heading into the more shopping-focused area of the city's downtown. It takes her about ten minutes to reach the covered pavilion next to an old brewery, already full of the stands and stalls of the farmers market and bustling with early-morning shoppers. 

As she's only only here for a few specific things, Sakura tries to stay focused and not get distracted by the different goods, heading right for a particular product stand that she usually gets veggies from. She pulls a mesh shopping tote out of her shoulder bag and leaves the stand some minutes later with carrots, squash, and potatoes, starting her search for reasonable pie-fruit.

"So, what, I just fuckin' chomp the straw and eat it whole?"

Sakura pauses as she passes by a honey stand, glancing over curiously to see a very exasperated beekeeper and a silver-haired man who seemed to be about five seconds away from taking a literal bite from a honey stick.

"No, sir," The beekeeper says tiredly, obviously trying to resist the urge to run his hands down his face. "You just bite the end to pop it open and then suck out the honey. Please don't eat the tube."

She doesn't mean to eavesdrop, but the conversation did remind her that she was low on honey at home. Might as well grab a jar.

Sakura eyes the man as she steps to the other side of the stall, inspecting a stack of wildflower honey jars but unable to stop from listening in again as he rears back slightly and curls his upper lip.

"Do I look like a hummingbird or some shit?"

She barely suppresses her snicker and the stand owner quickly turns his attention to her, relieved to have someone else to assist. The beekeeper ignores the silver-haired man's indignant huff and stops in front of Sakura, putting on a smile as he greets her.

"Can I help you find anything, Miss? Would you like a free sample?" He gestures to the stacks of jars and bottles, pretending not to hear the other man complain that he hadn't been offered any free damn samples. "The bees we keep produce really great honey  - the orange blossom is my favorite."

Sakura chuckles and picks up one of the wildflower jars, passing it over as she retrieves her wallet.

"Just this one, please."

"Excellent choice!" The beekeeper quickly starts to ring her up and the man, who still hasn't left, gives an overly-dramatic sigh.

"Fine, keep your damn sticks. Just tell me where I can find a stand that sells rocks and shit."

The owner groans tiredly but Sakura steps in, fairly familiar with the market.

"There should be one on the other side of the pavilion," She offers, finally taking a good look at the man as he turns to her. His silver hair is slicked back and shiny, just long enough to reach the bottoms of his ears, and his eyes are an odd magenta color, scrutinizing Sakura curiously.

He looks rather out of place with his studded leather jacket and ripped jeans - especially considering how cold it is today - and she's fairly confident that he's never been to the farmer's market. 

The man nods and rubs his chin, his jaw sharp and strong, as she continues, gesturing towards the north part of the market.

"They're usually near the people that sell all the house plants and succulents. So look for a lot of green and you should find it."

He looks her over one last time before grinning and raising his hand in thanks as he turns to head the way she’d directed.

"Thanks, lady." The man says, rolling his shoulders to adjust his jacket. "At least someone up here is fuckin' helpful."

Sakura sends his back a curious look as he walks away, but shrugs it off and passes cash over to the relieved beekeeper. With the jar of honey slipped into her tote, she heads off to find her fruit, trying her best to not get distracted again. She keeps an eye out for that odd man but soon gets distracted by another produce stand, grinning at the sight of fresh pomegranates.

Vaguely remembering a recipe in one of her books for a pomegranate pie, she hurries over and starts to pick some out as she tries to recall how many she'd need.

If Deidara wants a pie, he's gonna get a pie.

: :

Sakura's just in the middle of peeling potatoes when something starts tapping at her kitchen window. She glances up, stood at the sink, to see a crow on the windowsill and softly pecking the glass with its beak. It gives a muffled caw and flaps its wings when it sees her looking back at it before hopping down to her small bistro table in the backyard, a wrapped package sitting next to it.

She smiles and slips her rubber gloves off to reveal cotton ones before hurrying to the back door and out into her yard, careful to be quiet so that Deidara doesn't happen to hear her and look outside. Even carrier pigeons aren't exactly a common sight among humans nowadays, so she isn't sure how she'd explain the crow and its delivery.

Closing the door as gently as she can, Sakura steps out onto the snow-covered yard and approaches the table, smiling in greeting at the bird and reaching out to give it a soft pat before she reaches for the package. Unclasping the leather carrying strap, she unwraps the paper partially to make sure it's her gloves before nodding to the crow, humming gently. She gives it a quick scratch under its chin before starting to step away, tucking her package under her arm.

"Wait just a moment, please," Sakura says softly, the crow tilting its head to watch her curiously. "I'll grab you a treat before you head back home."

It gives an enthusiastic caw and she chuckles, hoping her neighbors hadn't heard as she quickly returns to her kitchen. She sets her wrapped gloves on the table before retrieving a shallow bowl to fill with some lukewarm water, grabbing a handful of blueberries, and heading back out. Pleased to see the crow waiting patiently on the bistro table, Sakura moves to clear some snow off before setting the water and fruit down, smiling when it hops closer and eagerly accepts the treats.

"I thought birds are supposed to fly south for the winter, yeah?"

She fully jumps in surprise, startled by the sudden sound of Deidara's voice. Looking up, she sees him leaning out of a window on his second floor and lets out a huff as his grin grows wider.

"Sorry, Sakura," He says, stifling a laugh and crossing his arms as he rests them on the windowsill. "Did I scare you, hm?"

"You just surprised me," She looks back down to the crow, picking up one of the blueberries and offering it to the bird as she ignores Deidara’s chuckle. Relieved that she'd taken the package inside already, Sakura pets its feathers and glances up again when he continues.

"Make a friend? I heard it squawking and couldn't help taking a peek, yeah." He scrutinizes the crow with a curious frown, snorting when it gives a harsh caw and flaps its wings in his direction.

Sakura calms it with another blueberry and steps back when the bird takes off, finished with its delivery and snack. Shrugging, she picks up the bowl and dumps the water out, making a mental note that she really should put a bird feeder or a birdbath out here for future deliveries from Mikoto.

"It was probably just passing through," She answers finally, crossing her arms and leaning against the table as she looks up at Deidara. "I saw it through my kitchen window and wanted to see if it'd take any treats. Maybe I can make friends with a flock of ravens like those stories on the internet."

She deliberately misidentifies the crow but he seems eager to change the subject, propping a first under his chin.

"You got home early, hm. Short work day today?"

Sakura looks away and brushes a bit of snow off her sleeve, barely feeling the chill through her gloves. "I was just out running errands."

"Awww," Comes Deidara's voice, a slight whine to his tone. "I would have come with you if I'd known!"

She doesn't bother to hide her smirk but quickly crosses her arms again when a breeze passes through the yard, trying to suppress a shiver.

"How do you feel about pomegranates?" Sakura asks, changing the subject herself. She plans on making that pie tomorrow, but it'd probably be best to make sure he actually likes the fruit. When she looks up at Deidara, his expression looks rather conflicted and he sends her a slightly disappointed smile.

"Good shit, yeah. But it's cold out; you should head back inside, Sakura," He sighs, obviously wanting to continue the conversation but very aware of how another breeze makes her shiver. "I don't want ya getting sick just 'cause I'm a big chatterbox."

Her smile turns fond and she pushes off from the edge of the bistro table, brushing any lingering snow off of her house robe before raising a hand in farewell.

"See you later, Deidara. Stay warm."

He returns the sentiment, not budging from his spot until she's back inside, and she misses how he looks in the direction the crow had flown. Deidara frowns to himself before finally pulling back and closing his window, locking it with a soft click.

: :

Monday morning, Sakura heads out dressed in her usual white button-up, silk scarf, and long skirt combo. But, this time, she's sure to tug the black, embroidered gloves onto her hands, smiling as Mikoto's enchantment holds and they don't turn to gold. House keys in hand, she steps out to see a fresh layer of snow on the ground and Deidara shoveling his stoop clean.

He looks up to greet her but, at the sight of her hands, he cuts himself off and the brightest grin she's ever seen from him bursts onto his face. Dropping the shovel, he practically vaults over the hedge separating them and stops just short of taking one of her hands in his own, still beaming but looking a little more sheepish as he steps back.

"You're wearing the gloves!" Deidara says, foregoing greeting her as he's obviously too excited. "How do they fit, yeah? Not too tight?"

Sakura smiles gently and he backtracks as she steps down and moves for the street, slipping her keys into the bag on her shoulder.

"Morning, Deidara." They immediately fall into their morning routine as she heads for the bus stop, his smile never leaving his face. "They fit just right. Thank you again."

His grin widens and he rubs the back of his head, avoiding a pile of snow that was most likely hiding a trash can.

"Great! Awesome, yeah!" He nearly slips on a patch of ice in his excitement and Sakura quickly reaches out to catch his arm, chuckling under her breath when his face turns a little pink.

"I-I'm glad!" Deidara says, trying to brush the moment off and recover. "They look good on you."

"You've got good tastes," Sakura replies, holding a hand up to appreciate the embroidery. "The stitching is excellent."

He's got an admirable pep to his step and, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Deidara tilts his head slightly as he looks at her, his blue eyes sparkling.

"I can give you a referral if you wanna update your collection. Or get some of the older ones embroidered, hm."

Sakura hums thoughtfully, taking a sip from her thermos. "I might take you up on that, actually. The all-white look is a little plain…"

Deidara’s smile grows all the wider and he's quick to pull his phone out, typing silently for a few moments before he sends her a text with all the information. Sakura feels her phone buzz in her bag but decides to check the address later, instead turning her focus to discussing the benefits of touchscreen-compatible gloves versus the ruined aesthetics of the pad on the fingertips. They chat amicably as they walk, careful of ice and snow on the ground before, eventually, they're at the bus stop.

Sakura inconspicuously brings up pomegranates again while she waits for her ride, planning on bringing the finished pie by his place after she gets off work. She'd overestimated just how many she'd need for the recipe and had ended up with enough seeds for a second pie but, by the time the bus pulled up, she was confident that she'd only be eating one by herself.

Deidara wishes her a good day as she boards and Sakura waves at him through the window once she's seated, pulling out her cellphone. As the bus pulls away from the curb, she checks his text and looks up the shop, saving the location for future reference. Maybe she would get some of her plain gloves touched up with some nice embroidery or something.

The bus ride passes uneventfully and, by the time she arrives at the coroner’s office and gets her assignments for the day, she's pretty sure her shift will pass uneventfully.

That is, until her assistant unzips the black body bag and Sakura finds a vaguely familiar face on her examination table. 

Her hands, holding the clipboard and pen, low slightly as she frowns in confusion, trying to recall why this corpse seems so familiar. Jun sends her a curious look and she shrugs it off, beginning her external examination as she pushes her confusion to the back of her mind. She writes down a few notes as she speaks aloud, her Dictophone sitting nearby on one of the counters against the wall and recording her verbal report.

"Identity: Unknown. The victim appears to have suffered a gunshot wound to the forehead," She says, circling the table while her assistant drags the rolling tray of tools closer, waiting for her to give him the go-ahead to start removing the clothes. "Judging by the powder tattooing and seared skin around the entry wound, but the lack of a muzzle imprint, the shot was likely taken at close range, but not in contact with the victim's head."

She moves her head around for a better angle at the hole in the man's forehead, but doesn't reach out to move his hair away from the wound yet. The hole is circular and about half an inch wide, the edges of the skin blackened and burned with a wide zone of powder soot around the entry point. The reddish-brown stippling on the skin (pinpoint abrasions from unburnt powder grains leaving the gun) indicates that the man had been alive when he was shot.

"Complexion: pale. Hair: short and silver. Eyes…" Sakura reaches out and carefully lifts one of the corpse's partially-open eyelids with a gloved finger and pauses at the sight of magenta irises around the dilated pupils. She blinks, lips parted, and suddenly realizes why the man seems so familiar.

"Dr. Haruno..?"

Sakura glances up as Jun calls to her and straightens, clearing her thoughts.

"I'm alright - let's continue."

She takes a much better look at the corpse's face and inwardly confirms that this is definitely the man she'd bumped into at the farmers market two days ago. Vaguely recalling that the report had stated the body had been found outside the hospital this morning, she makes a mental note to read it more thoroughly after the examination.

Sakura always suspected that, one day, she'd end up performing an autopsy on the body of someone she kinda-sorta knew, but this is the first time that's happened. Rather unprepared, she's feeling a little… off her game. But also more intrigued than usual.

She can't help but wonder about the motive, about what had led to the silver-haired man being shot nearly point-blank. The body was in the very early stages of rigor mortis, which meant he hadn't been killed very long ago - most likely just before he'd been deposited on the hospital street. He was dressed in different clothes than she remembered, so he had at least made it home that evening.

"The victim is familiar to me," She says aloud for the recording, ignoring Jun's sudden, shocked expression. "A report will be made to the case investigator after the autopsy is completed."

Her assistant looks like he wants to say something but glances to the Dictophone, so Sakura steps over, pauses the recording, and turns to him.

"You have something to say, Jun?"

"Excuse me, Dr. Haruno," He answers, looking a little embarrassed at having stopped the examination. "Do you… know this man?"

He asks the question cautiously, unsure if she had some sort of emotional attachment to the victim and if he should go get Dr. Sato. But Sakura waves off his question and readies to start the audio recording again.

"I saw him in passing when I was grocery shopping the other day," She answers, shaking her head slightly when Jun relaxes. "I just recognized his face."

The external examination continues and Sakura keeps an eye out for any lingering shapes in the corners of the room. But she finds none, even after the initial review is completed, Jun finishes undressing and bagging the clothes, and they bring the body back from radiology and pin the X-rays up.

Sakura turns the lifeless head to take a second look at the exit wound, having already reported that there don't appear to be any other signs of injury on the man's body. She continues to speak aloud as she measures the larger hole at the back of his head, Jun pulling an empty cart closer as she begins to remove broken, misplaced skull fragments and tries to clear the wound as much as she can. She takes pictures both before and after and then has her assistant clean the wound while she grabs a few more photos of the body, providing evidence that there likely hadn't been a struggle.

Once the exit wound is clean, Sakura moves to take another picture, but pauses as she notices something at the nape of his neck. She rolls the body onto its side and angles the overhead light before grabbing a rectangular magnifying glass off the cart of tools.

"Did you find something, Dr. Haruno?"

She feels carefully at a spot at the back of his neck, just below his hairline and to the left of his spine, with her fingers, frowning as the round, red spot on his skin seems to belong to something hard puncturing his flesh. She glances to the X-rays but doesn't notice anything out of the ordinary.

"The victim appears to have something embedded in the back of his neck," She says aloud, detailing its location before grabbing one of the rulers on the rolling tray. With Jun holding the ruler in place just next to the red spot, Sakura takes a couple pictures and verbally logs the size.

"The foreign object measures a quarter-inch in diameter, is a perfect circle, though slightly jagged around the edges, and is red in color." She exchanges the ruler for tweezers and has her assistant hold the magnifying glass as she attempts to spread the skin around the spot with her fingers, giving her better access to get the tweezers around it. It takes a bit of finessing, but she soon gets a grip on the object and carefully pulls it out.

It's only about an inch and a half long, with one end (the outer end) flat and the other sharp and pointed. Sakura holds it up to the light and notes that the red color is due to the blood coating it and, after placing it in a shallow tray on the cart, moves back to the man's neck. With a little searching she finds a second spot on the opposite side of his spine, perfectly mirroring the location of the first. She repeats the process of describing the foreign object, measuring, and taking photographic evidence, before removing a nearly identical shard.

With both items placed in the tray and the ruler held next to them for reference, she takes another few photos before sending Jun to clean them.

"Is it glass, doctor?" He asks as he takes the tray. To which Sakura answers with a curious, "I don’t think so."

While he cleans off the shards, she examines the wounds left behind, takes another photo, then rolls the body onto its back once more.

Once everything is clean and Sakura can better identify the foreign objects, she realizes they're small crystals of some sort. The edges aren't perfectly smooth like quartz - instead, they jagged and ridged, but run evenly down the length of the crystals, as if someone had taken hundreds of incredibly thin sticks and fused them together. They are white but not completely opaque, allowing the blood to reflect through and make the flat ends look red from the outside.

She recalls how he'd been looking for a 'stand that sells rocks and shit' and can't help but wonder if it was connected.

Sakura takes several pictures from different angles before bagging the shards for evidence and making a note to try to identify them later when she was on her computer. Returning to the autopsy, she takes tissue samples for histology and blood for toxicology and typing before turning the examination inward.

The organs are measured and weighed, checked over for any abnormalities, and returned to the body. With no evidence of soft tissue trauma or even a single broken bone - 

(It's rather odd, she can't find any signs of old injuries, not even scars from childhood. For such a rough-looking guy like she remembered, it was strange that he seemed to have not retained evidence of a single even mildly serious injury in his life.)

 - anywhere besides the hole in his skull and the bullet path through his (otherwise normal) brain, the case is shaping up to be a fairly standard gunshot-wound-to-the-head homicide.

Besides the odd crystals she'd found stabbed into the nape of his neck, of course.

Sakura stitches the body back up, returns it to its bag with help from Jun, then approves it to be taken down to the morgue while she compiles her findings. All the while, she searches out of the corner of her eye for a lingering spirit, disappointed when she finds none.

It wasn't uncommon. Sometimes souls passed on by themselves without her aide or simply wandered off elsewhere. But, she can't help admitting that she is curious about this case and wishes she could speak one last time with the silver-haired man and find out what might have happened.

For now, however, she has other cases to attend to.

: :

It takes some searching, but Sakura eventually identifies the crystals as selenite.

She lingers on a web page describing its 'abilities' in aiding in sleep and deep peace for a moment before closing the tab and adding her find to the report. She'd already called the investigator in charge of the case to set up a time to talk about how she'd seen the man before and was now mostly through with her reports for her other cases and recordings for the day. He still hadn't been identified and no one had come forward with a missing person's report, but he'd technically only been dead for about twelve hours, so it might be a while before someone realizes he's missing.

It was hours later now, already past the end of her day, and Sakura debates opening back up that tab she'd just closed, wondering if the crystals were toxic. But, she's tired and it's been a long shift, so she'll save that idea for tomorrow and finish downloading her audio file and photos for the silver-haired man's case before locking up and heading home.

She leans back in her chair and balances a pencil on her upper lip as the files upload, alone in her office as Sato had already left for the evening. Her gaze crawls over to the corner of the room every so often, still hoping his spirit would appear, but she truly is completely alone. When her computer alerts her that the transfer is complete, she takes a moment to scroll through the photos and pauses as she realizes she'd missed something.

Though she had pictures of the silver-haired man with the trail of blood running down his face and his hair in a disarray, she'd apparently neglected to take a photo of him all cleaned up and his features much more identifiable.

Sakura curses under her breath, drops her pencil in a mug of pens, and slips the memory card back into her camera. Quickly emailing the audio recording to the transcriptionist, she closes down her computer, grabs jer coat and bag, and decides to get a picture before she goes home. Leaving her office, she heads down to the changing room next to the lab but forgoes changing into her scrubs. Instead, she simply swaps Deidara’s gloves for a latex pair, tucking the former in her skirt's pocket, and steps into a pair of sterile booties to cover her shoes.

She keeps her coat folded over her arm and her camera in hand as she heads to the pair of swinging doors that lead down to the mortuary. Once through the entrance, she follows the sloped incline path on her right down to the sub-level. It turns once, doubling back in the direction she'd come but still in a descent, and the stone walls, painted white, are far enough apart for her not to feel claustrophobic. There's enough grip on the shoe coverings for her to not slip on the linoleum and she passes a janitor swabbing down the flooring, raising a hand in greeting.

It's always quiet in the Northwest building, as the doctor offices and patient rooms are in the East wing, but it's late enough in the day that most employees have already gone home. Sakura isn't too bothered, as she's used to staying late, and she enters the morgue fairly quickly after swiping her ID card when she reaches the locked pair of doors at the end of the sloped hall, heading for the wall of steel fridges. There's only the single entrance into the chilly room, with the ramped corridor leading upstairs rather than an elevator to better transport bodies up to and down from the pathology department, and it's completely empty - besides whatever's in the coolers.

There's a tall rolling table near the entrance, the metal top covered by a long sterile sheet that someone had left out. The edges of the fabric reach down to the floor on three sides and Sakura clicks her tongue at the sight, wondering who'd neglected to put it up, but deposits her coat on top of the table anyways. She searches the wall of body drawers for the right label and eventually opens one of the doors, pulling the sturdy metal tray holding her mystery man out of the just-under 40 degrees Fahrenheit cooler. Making sure her latex gloves are secure, she pulls the sterile sheet covering the silver-haired corpse down to mid-chest and looks over his admittedly handsome face one last time before brushing his hair away from the hole in his forehead and raising her camera.

Sakura takes a couple photos before reaching out to lift an eyelid, needing to get a shot of his eyes.

She jerks back with a startled gasp, however, bumping the tray with her leg, as she finds those magenta irises surrounding constricted pupils.

Hand on her chest and her eyes wide, she stares at the body for a long moment, wondering if she'd just imagined that. Pupils are supposed to be dilated after death until rigor mortis makes the body's muscles begin to tighten once more. And the frigid temperature of the drawers was supposed to postpone those effects; he shouldn't have entered that stage yet.

Sakura keeps staring for a moment, noting that she'd disturbed his arm when she bumped the tray and it was now hanging limply over the edge. Taking a breath and inwardly telling herself that she'd been mistaken, she steps forward and moves to lift his arm back up onto the metal top, but pauses as she notices something on his palm. Holding his wrist, her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she inspects the odd symbol drawn on the palm of his hand, absolutely certain that it hadn't been there before.

She traces a gloved finger over the curves of the line but freezes when the dark brown mark begins to turn red. When it starts to glow, Sakura quickly shoves his arm back under the sheet, covers his face again, and moves to push the tray back into the fridge. Something was going on and she wanted no part in it.

She stops mid-push, however, at the sound of a loud thud out in the hallway and glances over her shoulder. It must just be the janitor but Sakura steps away from the corpse anyways, leaving the tray pulled completely out, and approaches the double doors of the morgue. 

The two doors, sturdy and coated in a sheet of sterile metal, have twin windows at the top third and she curiously peeks out into the hallway, her eyes going wide as she sees the janitor collapsed on the ground. The upper half of his body is just within view and the rest is out of sight around the corner of the turn in the hall and Sakura hurriedly moves to grab her ID card. She pauses as she pulls away from the door as her eye catches movement and she watches as the janitor's body is dragged out of sight, leaving a trail of blood on the linoleum.

Slapping a hand over her mouth as she gasps, Sakura quickly pulls away from the door and presses up against next to it, no longer within sight through the window. She takes a breath and just barely peeks over the edge, her stomach dropping as she spots two figures dressed in black rounding the corner.

Heart pounding, she ducks down, backs away, and searches for another exit, though she knows there aren't any.

But the soft groan from behind her makes her freeze and, reluctantly, Sakura slowly turns around.

The body of the silver-haired man is sitting upright on his tray, a perfect 90 degree angle and the sheet still covering his head. As his hand raises to slowly pull the cloth down, the symbol on his palm glowing bright red and an unwounded forehead coming into view, Sakura can hear the beep of the scanner outside the mortuary as an ID badge is swiped. She shoots a quick glance over her shoulder, filled with panic, and grabs her coat before diving under the tall table nearby.

She takes just a moment to right the edges of the sheet laid out over the table, the uncovered fourth side luckily being the one that's pressed against the wall, and lays as still and as quietly as she can. 

Listening to the sound of the doors opening, she can hear a quiet conversation abruptly stop as the intruders undoubtedly notice the moving - living? Reanimated? - corpse. All is quiet for a moment and Sakura is able to peek out from under the sterile curtain hiding her just enough to see shoes near the doors.

She can't stop how she jumps when there's a sudden gunshot but does manage to hold back her startled shout. 

Ears ringing and the floor cold under her, pink eyebrows furrow at the indignant, "What the fuck," that comes from the direction of the silver-haired man.

"You fucking shot me, asshole!" Comes his familiar voice again and she watches one pair of boots rush towards him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Growls a new voice, followed by a grunt.

"Same question to you, jackass!" Another grunt and Sakura can hear bare feet hit the ground and the sound of two bodies struggling to grapple each other before another gunshot. This time it's muffled and, from her left, she can see knees hit the ground hard and a puddle of blood quickly drip onto the floor.

"Quit it!" His voice again, but he sounds more annoyed than a man who'd just been shot - again - should be.

(Well, maybe the annoyance was justified. But there wasn't any panic or fear in his tone.)

"That fucking hurts, you shit-for-brains! And not even the good kind!"

"Shut your damn mouth before I blow your brains out." The second man's hiss is furious and he obviously doesn't appreciate when the silver-haired should-be corpse laughs.

"Too late!"

"What's he doing here, Sakon?" Comes a new voice, Sakura's head turning to look in the direction of the third man. "Why's he- Is he naked?"

The conversation and scuffle abruptly ends as they all, Sakura included, hear the sound of someone running down the incline hall above. They're headed down for the mortuary and a low, quick whistle from 'Sakon' has the other man moving away from the open door to crouch down next to the table she's hiding under.

She freezes and muffles her breathing in the fabric of her coat, glancing from the shadow to her left to what she can see of the exit just a few feet away from her. The footsteps slow as the new arrival approaches the doors and she can hear the click of a gun being readied next to her.

"Hidan?" Comes a cautious voice, and Sakura's heart nearly drops at the familiarity of it. "What the fuck did you d‐"

"DUCK!"

The shout was preceded by a grunt and a yelp and then immediately followed by the newcomer dropping to the ground and the sound of a gun being fired just seconds later. There's a chorus of curses, grunts, and shouts and the sound of fists hitting flesh until everything falls quiet again.

"Alright," Says intruder #2, panting and still standing just next to Sakura's hiding spot. She can see another pair of boots just in front of his own and guesses that he'd grappled the newcomer into a hold and was likely threatening him with his gun.

"Let my brother g-" He cuts himself off and Sakura looks out to her left, bare feet planted behind another pair of boots and facing the men next to her. "Wait, you don't even have a weapon!"

She moves her gaze to the unblocked, still open door, trying to determine how long it would take for her to scramble out from under the table and run for the exit. As silently as she can, she removes the plastic coverings over her shoes.

"I don't fuckin' need one when I've got this!" Silver-haired man says, probably showing off… something that warranted a growl from the intruder and his apparent brother.

"What the hell are you snakes even doing here, hm?" Comes that painfully familiar voice. Sakura bites her lip and stays silent, waiting for some sort of opening as she moves her knees under herself.

"None of your business. Now shut up before I put a bullet in your chest. I know you won't heal like loudmouth over there."

She hates that she can't see much of anything, just the white fabric walls around her, but listens intently to every sound and movement. It's all she's got to give her some idea of what's going on above her, trying to figure out where all of the men stood based on what she can see of their shoes and her knowledge of the mortuary's layout. 

There's another grunt and the sound of a gun muzzle being jammed harder against a body before she sees newcomer's boots slowly turn and plant more firmly on the ground.

Though Sakura isn't able to see the silent conversation that passes between two of the men's gazes, she's acutely aware of the low humming that suddenly starts to build near the wall of fridges.

"What the fuck is that noise-?!" 'Sakon's' question is abruptly cut off by a sudden crack and boom and Sakura glances over just as a body hits the ground and the slack face of man she doesn't recognize comes just barely into view. She sees pale blue - nearly grey - hair and green-painted lips and hears a furious shout from above her, followed by a gunshot and a second body collapsing next to the first. There's the sound of grunts and muffled punches and the splatter of blood and Sakura knows this is her chance, while everyone is either distracted or incapacitated.

As the newcomer drops down and rolls to avoid a shot from the remaining brother, she tears her latex glove off with her teeth and reaches one hand out to touch the boots still stood next to her hiding spot. 

They instantly turn to solid gold and, as he takes a step to go after the man with the horribly familiar voice, the new heavy weight of his shoes takes him by surprise and he falls forward. Sakura scrambles out from under the table, clutching her coat and camera, and races out of the room, just barely catching a glimpse of a blond-haired man's back as he crouches down behind a counter across the morgue.

Her gaze meets a shocked black eye and a face identical to the one she'd seen just moments earlier but she's already out the door and around the corner before she can really think on it. Nearly tripping on the janitor's body as she races up the hallway, Sakura stuffs her camera in her bag, still on her shoulder and crossed over her body, and curls her ungloved hand into a fist. She keeps it held close to her chest but doesn't let it touch her clothing and, once she's shoving through the swinging doors and back on the upper floor, she runs for exit to the loading bay near the storage room.

The heavy doors are propped open, a disturbing sight, but she races through them anyways and enters the delivery dock just as she hears distant gunshots from behind her.

It's only once she's a full two blocks away that she stops running, panting heavily as she leans against a brick wall and tries to catch her breath. She hadn't been followed, fortunately, and she debates calling the police, groaning as she slides down to collapse on the concrete. 

She knows she should but she can't bring herself to do it, recalling that voice she knows so well and that familiar blond hair. 

What was Deidara doing there? He'd called the other man, the silver-haired corpse, 'Hidan', which meant he knew him. It couldn't have been a coincidence that he'd just randomly showed up either. Something was going on and Sakura neither knew nor wanted to find out.

She shivers as a cold breeze passes through the street, bringing a fresh snowfall with it, and takes a deep breath to calm herself down. Her coat is still folded over her arm, but she needs to get her ungloved hand covered before she can even attempt to put it on, not wanting to ruin it and have to lug it back to her home. 

A few snowflakes drift down and land on her curled fist and she curses under her breath as they turn to gold before they can even begin to melt against her skin. The light from the street lamps catch on the golden snowflakes as she shakes them off her hand and she digs around in the pocket of her skirt for Deidara’s gloves, glancing down the dark street.

Sakura's stomach sinks when she only finds one of the black gloves.

She hesitates, digging around in her pocket again and then searching through her bag just in case, before finally standing. Luckily, the remaining glove is just the one she needs and she worriedly tugs it on, one hand covered with black and the other with latex. A look back the way she'd come confirms that she hadn't dropped it just now and she pales slightly, realizing it likely fell out of her pocket when she had left her hiding spot in the mortuary.

Running a hand nervously through her hair, she stands there on the street for a long, long moment, staring back in the direction of the hospital, before finally turning around. She pulls on her coat and crouches down to collect the golden snowflakes, her expression grim, until she's satisfied that she's found them all.

Straightening up, she sends one last glance over her shoulder before hurrying down the street to find a bus stop. She needs to get home.

[mandelene]

If you feel like filling this: for the first time, Matthew and Alfred are left alone overnight and Alfred feels all grown-up and excited. Pity that Matthew had hidden he wasn't feeling well and he isn't getting any better... Thank you! ❤️

Torture Matthew? Sure thing! Haha. 😁 As usual, I got carried away. You can’t ask me to write a sickfic and not expect the word count to be high lol. I made it a throwback to my “Matthew has asthma” headcanon. Also, did you know many U.S. states don’t have a law for how old a child must be to be left home alone overnight? Same for the UK. Apparently, it’s generally recommended that the child is at least 14 or 16, so I went with Al and Matt being 15 in this one.  

The House Party That Never Was

Word Count: 1924 (I know. I’m sorry!)

10 AM, Friday

“We’ll only be two hours away, so if anything happens or there’s a problem, call and let us know, and we’ll drive back right away.”  

“Okay, Dad. We know,” Alfred groans. They’re not babies anymore—Mattie and he can handle being left alone overnight while their parents go to see the philharmonic orchestra in Philadelphia for their anniversary.

“There are leftovers in the fridge that you can have for dinner tonight. You can order pizza tomorrow if we’re not back by six o’clock,” Papa reminds, just as worried and over-protective as Dad is being. “Make yourselves breakfast and lunch. We have plenty of fruit, cereal, bread, cold cuts, yogurt—” 

“Yes, Papa. We’ll make sure to eat,” Matthew interjects with a soft sniffle. “It’ll be fine.” 

Dad immediately notices said sniffle and flips out. He puts his duffle bag down and presses a hand against Matthew’s forehead, feeling for a fever and not finding one. “Are you all right? You aren’t coming down with something, are you? We can cancel the trip and—”

“No, no. It’s just allergies.” 

“…Okay, take an anti-histamine from the medicine cabinet.”  

“I will.” 

“In case of emergency—"

“Call 911. We know, Dad. We’re fifteen, not five!” Alfred sighs, tempted to physically push his parents out the front door at long last. 

Dad struggles to find something else to lecture them about and pushes his sunglasses farther up his nose before deciding, “All right…Behave and don’t get into any trouble. We love you.”

Dad and Papa exchange hugs with them before they finally cross the driveway, get into the car, and drive off, disappearing down the road. 

“Woo! Freedom! God that took forever!” Alfred exclaims as he locks the door and turns around to look at Matthew, who is standing by the stairs with his hands stuffed in the pocket of his navy-blue hoodie. “Our first time home alone for a whole night! We’ve been living sheltered lives, Mattie, but not anymore. Today, we’re men. So, who’re we inviting over?” 

Matthew clears his scratchy throat and gently rubs at his nose with his sleeve. “Umm…I’m pretty sure Papa and Dad said we’re not supposed to have any friends over…” 

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” 

“Al, they’ll find out.” 

“No, they won’t. Come on, Matt. Don’t be lame.”

“Yeah, they will. If not tomorrow, then eventually, and I don’t wanna break their trust. If we worry them or make them angry, they’ll never leave us home alone for more than a couple of hours again,” Matthew argues, and if this stupid cold would just leave him alone, everything would be peachy. He rubs at his chest, which feels a little tighter than usual, and takes two puffs of his inhaler. 

Alfred glowers and slumps his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We have to prove we can handle it at least once…You okay, bro? Your asthma’s acting up?” 

“It’s just from my allergies,” Matthew repeats because he has to keep up the lie. It’s spring, so it’s believable enough. To be entirely honest, he’s been feeling terrible since last night, but he didn’t want to give their parents a reason to cancel their trip. He doesn’t have a fever, so it can’t be that serious...It’s just a cold, and he doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. Their parents deserve to enjoy their anniversary without interruption. “Wanna play Smash?” he asks, changing the subject. Alfred doesn’t have the greatest attention-span, and he’ll hopefully forget all about this.

“Okay, sure. I’ll set up the Switch and the controllers. You should go and take your allergy medicine.” 

“Cool. Yeah,” Matthew replies. It’s the perfect opportunity to go upstairs, blow his nose without witnesses, and take some cough medicine…And another two puffs of his inhaler.  

He refuses to be a bother. He knows how to take care of himself. 

--------------------------------------

7 PM, Friday

Alfred has eaten enough mesquite barbecue chips to feed their entire block, and Matthew is genuinely astonished that he hasn’t been sick yet. How can so much junk food fit into one stomach? Now that no one is around to stop him, Alfred has devoured half of the fridge, and he still doesn’t seem to be totally full, even after dinner. 

Papa left them blanquette de veau, a French veal stew. It soothes Matthew’s throat and warms his chest, which feels lovely initially, but then the steam breaks up some of the mucus in his lungs and leaves him suffering through several coughing fits. Fortunately, Alfred is in the bathroom for the worst of it, and doesn't hear him hacking. 

They’ve been playing video games for hours now, and Matthew can feel a low-grade fever settle into his body. Every time he inhales, he can hear his lungs give off a tiny wheeze. 

When Alfred goes off to get some juice to drink, Matthew discreetly takes yet another two puffs of his inhaler. 

“This is getting kinda boring. Wanna put on Netflix? We can binge-watch Avatar: The Last Airbender.” 

Matthew would rather lie down in bed with his tablet or phone, but if he doesn’t join Alfred, he might grow suspicious, and then he’ll worry, or he’ll call their parents.

“Sure. Let’s do it…” 

--------------------------------------

1 AM, Saturday

 “Matt...? Matt? You’re falling asleep on me, bro.” 

Matthew is startled awake and fixes his glasses, which must have tilted awkwardly to the left while he was sleeping. He doesn’t know when he dozed off on the couch, but it was sometime during Book Two of Avatar. Dad and Papa called around 9 PM to check on them, and Alfred did all of the talking. He reassured them that they’re both alive and haven’t broken any part of themselves or anything in the house.  

Matthew squints at the clock on the wall. “It’s late…”

“Yeah. We should go to bed,” Alfred agrees, and he must be tired as well if he’s not insisting they pull an all-nighter. 

“I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

“Okay. Have fun. I’m gonna live on the wild side and not brush ‘em,” Alfred says with a grin and a wink. 

“Wow, so edgy,” Matthew says, poking some fun at him before heading upstairs with a giant yawn. He’s exhausted, and the wheezing is back. He takes the nightly dose of his steroid inhaler and stares longingly at his nebulizer. He could do with a treatment, but it’s so loud, and then, Alfred would know something’s not right.  

So instead, he brushes his teeth, quietly takes some additional puffs of his rescue inhaler, and burrows under the covers of his bed, hoping this will all have blown over by the morning.

--------------------------------------

3 AM, Saturday

He can’t sleep. He can’t breathe. He needs a nebulizer treatment. Now. But it might wake Alfred. 

He risks it. There’s no other choice. 

And sure enough, five minutes into the treatment, Alfred plods into his room with drowsy eyes, and asks, “Mattie, what’s going on? You’re sick, aren’t you? Hang on. I’ll…I’ll call Dad and Papa, don’t worry.”  

“No!” Matthew shouts, surprised by the strength of his voice given the state of his lungs. “You can’t…It’s their anniversary…I’m fine.” 

“Matt, I’m pretty sure this counts as an emergency, bro.” 

“It’s not!”

“It’s the middle of the night and you can’t breathe—that’s an emergency, dude!”

“I’ll be fine after the nebulizer treatment is done,” he assures in a breathless rush around the nebulizer’s mouthpiece, but he’s not so sure he will be. 

“Well, we’ve gotta tell somebody!” Alfred shouts back at him before coming closer and touching his clammy forehead. “Dude, you’re burning up. What the hell? Why didn’t you say anything all night?”

Ignoring Matthew’s protests, Alfred makes the call. 

This isn’t going to be good…

--------------------------------------

5 AM, Saturday

“Matthew!”  

Dad and Papa burst through his bedroom door, and they’re by his side in a flash, fussing over him and acting as though he’s on the verge of death. They’re still dressed in the clothes they probably went to sleep in, and before Matthew can say a single word, Dad has his stethoscope on his chest and is listening to his lungs. He then clamps a pulse oximeter on his right index finger, waits for a reading, and frowns severely. 

While Papa strokes his head and asks him why he didn’t let them know sooner that he wasn’t feeling well, Dad disappears and then returns with three small pills and a glass of orange juice.

“Take these,” Dad instructs. 

Matthew wrinkles his nose as he puts the pills in his mouth and swallows them. The bitter aftertaste makes him shudder—prednisone. 

“Is he going to be all right?” Papa asks, squeezing Matthew’s hand.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. He should feel better once the steroid starts to work. We leave you boys home alone for one day, and you try to hide a medical emergency from us! What were you thinking?”

“It was very irresponsible,” Papa adds. 

And here he thought that Alfred would be the one to ultimately break their parents’ trust. 

“I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to have to cancel your trip. You’ve both been looking forward to it for a month,” Matthew timidly explains, breaths still shallow. 

“A trip can always be rescheduled. Your health can’t be,” Dad says sternly. “You had us worried sick. I was debating whether or not to tell Alfred to call for an ambulance. You should know better than to ever allow yourself to silently deteriorate like this!” 

“I’m sorry…” 

Dad sighs and rests a cold compress on his forehead. “We can decide on a punishment when you’re feeling well again.” 

A punishment? Really? Not fair.

Now is not a good time to argue though, so he lets Papa and Dad fret over him some more—they fluff his pillows, and force juice, water, and medicine for his fever down his throat. He feels awful knowing they lost sleep over him and had to hurry home, but at the same time, he’s grateful that they’re here, tending to him and monitoring him in case he gets worse. As much as he’d like to be regarded as an adult, he still wants his parents around when he’s unwell.  

“I’m really, really sorry…I feel terrible for ruining everything.” 

“Stop that,” Dad insists, shaking his head admonishingly at him. “We’re not upset with you for being ill—anyone can fall ill at any time and it’s out of one’s control. We’re upset that you tried to hide it from us, even if you thought you had the right intentions.” 

At that moment, Alfred peeks his head into the room, revealing that he’s been eavesdropping, and says, “I’d just like to point out that I did the responsible, mature thing, and called for help for my dearest, darling brother in his time of need. Very grown-up behavior—totally wise beyond my years. And because of that, I think, I deserve to be able to go to Six Flags next week with my friends.” 

Papa laughs heartily while Dad rolls his eyes. 

“Oui, you did the right thing, Alfred. But the greatest reward for helping your brother should be a sense of pride,” Papa notes.  

“I mean, yeah, but a physical reward would be kinda nice, too.” 

“Alfred,” Dad says with a warning tone. “Not now.” 

“All right, all right. I know. Just food for thought, you know? Glad Mattie’s okay, of course.” 

How in the world did Alfred come out on top? He’s a better adult? There’s no way! 

Okay, next time they’re home alone, they’re definitely throwing a party. 

That’ll show him. 

[kittensjonsa]

When you watch something (not telling you what it is) and it screams Jonsa and won't let you rest until you let it out.. another sub/Dom jonsa fic with Sansa holding the whip this time.

Summary: Sansa has deep seated issues she needs to work on thanks to a recent trauma from being mugged in an alley. But sometimes, it takes more than just therapy. BDSM-ish.

One-shot, I leave the rest to your imagination because I think.. we all have different versions how this could go.. 💦 and unfortunately, I am not a good enough writer to explore these visions and putting them into words lol.

Safe Word

Dove.

Little bird. Those are the words that spring to mind as Sansa sees the forms before her. It is strange, having to fill out forms and giving strangers a piece of her life before she gives all of herself to another. Well, almost.

He did come highly recommended. Sansa looks out the window from the lounge sofa she finds too comfortable to be filling out forms in.

Also, this is a sex club.

“You will keep my details private, right? I mean, I'm here because.. you know,” Sansa's voice trails off, wondering if she should explain at all. The lady with bright purple hair and blonde streaks looks up from Sansa's forms, only to smile at her, subtly hinting how she has encountered many a red-faced first timers like Sansa. Only thing, this time it's different. I'm different. Not like the rest, Sansa mumbles in a small voice in her mind.

“Miss Stark, I can assure you have our strictest confidence. Besides, your therapist made a call earlier this week to let us know about… your case. Don't worry, she didn't say anything, she just asked for Jon to help you. And that's enough for us to know. And, yes this is only between you and us,” the lady assures, the piercing on her lower lip quivering as she smiles again at Sansa.

Oh right, yes. My case.

Sansa nods and glances at the black tinted glass doors behind the counter. Sansa wonders what awaits her, come the day when it beckons.

“We'll give you a call once we've set up your appointment. You'll hear from us in a few days.”

Sansa heaves a sigh of relief and manages a polite grin. “Right, thank you. I'll.. wait for your call then, Miss Val,” Sansa addresses her after a quick glance at the name plate. Val nods and waves her goodbye and calls for the next one in line. Sansa gathers herself and leaves, regretting what fresh hell she had gotten herself into.

The hours ticked by at first when Sansa found herself in bed and staring at the ceiling. When sleep finally came, the nightmares took over. Sansa had tried everything from herbs, to tinctures and sleeping aids. None helped, because none of these, not even the anti-anxiety medication gave her the peace that was robbed from her, one fateful night in an alley. There were so many things Sansa realised, in retrospect, how the night could have gone differently. If she had taken the train instead of walking to the bus stop, if she went home on time instead of staying back an hour later, if she hadn't answered that goddamned phone call from her ex. But it only wrecked her inside and turned her stomach into knots every time she walks down that particular memory lane. Six months later, Sansa still finds herself in her nightmares, crawling in that alley, bruised, battered and mugged.

Seeing a therapist was the last resort. Describing and reliving the experience again was painful but gradually it eased, no longer was Sansa sobbing at the end of a session, thanks to Dr Carr, her therapist whom had provided an outlet Sansa didn't know she needed. Slowly, the sessions grew less arduous. The nightmares lessened somewhat though haven't ceased completely. Perhaps it was only thing that caused great concern, seeing what little sleep she'd been getting. Six months since a deep, restful sleep, Sansa recalls.

“There's a deep anger that needs to be resolved. Pure rage that I feel needs to be addressed here, Sansa. As someone, I think, who rarely expresses such an emotion, I can imagine this must be quite difficult for you,” Dr Carr suggests, tapping the end of her pen onto her notepad. Sansa sighed as she brushes off some imaginary fluff from her skirt.

“Might I suggest something? You might think this is quite strange but I feel it can be freeing for you. It's.. an acquired taste and you don't have to if you don't want to but perhaps you may want to consider letting all this anger out? On someone.. who is willing?”

Sansa raises her eyebrow at the 'willing' part. “You mean find someone to beat up?”

A wistful tilt of the head tells Sansa only one thing. “I don't recommend this method to anyone but I feel that you, Sansa, will find that it helps. I'll write down the address so you can decide for yourself. Now, before you say anything, I'd like you to approach this with an open mind. As open as you can possibly be.”

“What is it that you suggest, Dr Carr? I'm all ears.”

An address with a name. Jon Snow. Château Noir. Sansa answers back with a questioning glance. Sounds mysterious. Another therapist? Am I that hopeless?

“He's highly recommended. I heard of him from someone in my circle. He does… very particular work. And he has helped one of my former patients it seems, last I heard. So, moving forward.. I think you might want to try him.”

To do what exactly? This is uncharted territory. Sansa's mind wanders off to the darkest bits she was brave enough to muster.

“He's.. a provider of services for a small part of the community, whom I suppose require an outlet for their.. inclinations.”

Sansa's eyes widens at the statement and Dr Carr quickly adds, “Please, bear in mind that I do not in any way think that you have such inclinations but rather, been pushed against your own free will to a corner you no longer have space to move in. And it is affecting you more than you can cope. Am I right to say that? And I think one of the ways we can break out of that space.. is to face it head on, in a safe and controlled environment. I heard he's very professional. Would you at least think about it?”

Seven o'clock. As always, she is on the dot. Sansa fidgets with her jacket, hoping she was properly dressed for .. her meeting. A good sized room filled with contraptions Sansa thought she'd only seen in movies. The kind with mediaeval torture segments. Sansa quickly realises how this was probably a bad idea. But she had paid for it, that and also not wanting to face a disappointed Dr Carr, after the arrangements she had made.

Together, they both had made good progress; this is just a step further, she thinks. Still, torture devices aside, it was a cozy room otherwise for conversation if nothing happens. If she doesn't want anything to happen, that is. Sansa finds some small comfort how the lighted candles seem to brighten up the otherwise dim room, and a soft scent lingers in the air. Sandalwood? Rose? Sansa tries to guess, occupying herself while waiting.

The door creaks. A head of inky black curls and a boyish smile greets her. Sansa gasps. He isn't at all like how she imagined. And good-looking. Dr Carr didn’t mention that. 

“You must be Sansa Stark. From Dr Carr's office?”

Sansa nods and gingerly reaches out to meet his hand. She quickly looks away, out of courtesy. Perhaps also out of shyness and embarrassment. Quite the impression, and straight to business.

The harness strapped across his broad sinewy shoulders and chest made her jaw drop. And the crotchless leather trousers. Good thing he has briefs on, as Sansa's eyes dart back to the floor.

“Nice to meet you. I'm Jon Snow. And I'll be your sub tonight. At your service, whatever you need.”

Sansa sucks in a deep breath and blinks at the sight before her. All right no conversations then. Willing party. For fuck's sake, get over yourself and get it over with.

“Umm.. okay. Right.. oh, do you have.. a safe word?” Sansa remembers to ask, putting her bag down and removing her stifling jacket. He smiles again, his eyes shining in the poor light of the room. They gleam with anticipation. Somehow, Sansa had a feeling he had been waiting for her arrival, the moment she stepped into his lair. His castle. Strangely, not an ounce of fear filled her body, but something else entirely. Something hot and heady, as her breathing quickens.

“Well, thank you for asking. I do have one. It's.. crow.”

Sansa watches him slide across the room to a standing handle bar that stood chest high. A pair of shackles sit ominously on the handle, waiting to clamp on the next poor soul.

“Okay. But.. hold on. Don't you want to ask me questions? Sorry this is my first time, I don't know how this works,” Sansa apologizes as Jon stands behind the handle bar.

“Ahh, yes of course. But later, if you'd like. Sometimes, thinking about it, hampers.. the process. I know it is your first time. Don't worry, I'll lead you into it. Just.. tell me what you want to do, how do you feel and why you're here. At least that gets the ball rolling, no?”

“Well.. well-I'm here because I need to let some anger out,” Sansa stammers, suddenly feeling very large, self-conscious and awkward.

“Okay.. and why are you angry? Did someone take something from you?” Jon prods, his voice and tone as soothing as Dr Carr's.

“Yes.. yes. And he hurt me... He beat me. He left me for dead in an alley.. I had to crawl home, no one helped me..”

Jon keeps quiet as he watches Sansa, his heart slightly heavy. Poor girl. All the more she needs this, he thinks.

Sansa stops, the rage Dr Carr was talking about had finally reared its head. Ugly and snarling and all Sansa wanted to do was to smash its head in. Indeed, this is exactly what she needs.

“Well then, Mistress. Shall we begin?”

Sansa looks up from the floor and sees Jon already shackled to the handle bar.

And a loosely coiled whip hanging at one end.

---

Note: Dr Wendy Carr is a character who is a psychologist on Mindhunter and I adore her (and aspire to be like her one day). So much so that she deserves a place in my fics lol. Sorry, she's not an oc 😂 if you're wondering.

[bujokookie]

hey! if u don't mind me asking can u pls tell me why spotify isn't good? i've been considering getting spotify bc of everyone talking abt how superior it is and i'd love to hear an alternative opinion bc ive been very much on the fence. thank u! 🌸

Helloo ^.^, lol just wanted to say that I’m not a Spotify anti and before I go on I have used Apple Music for like 4 yrs so my opinions are based on comparisons so pls take with a grain of salt.

Okay! So I’ve used Spotify for less than a month and in the beginning I had some functionality issues which I found exasperating. One of them being that there was no rewind button feature on my lockscreen, so in order to take back a song and relisten to it I had to change it through the control center or go back into the app, or hold onto that lil line and scrub. Another one was that my AirPods Pro double tap feature to either fast forward or rewind only did the former so i was contantly hovering over the app. (Unlocking my phone is a hassle for me cause I walk around without it on me or it’s shoved in my purse/armband when I run or I listen on my iPad which I don’t lug around the house).

The algorithm is also very try hard, it’s like it’s rushing to pay attention to you. I’m sure people like this but for me it’s like “i listened to this track for half a minute It’s not my favorite 😭”. I’m not sure if this is a setting you can turn off but the list of songs never end 😳. I was freaked out when I finished listening to the last song on an album, the algorithm just continues playing other songs (either from the same artist or similar artists). This happened when I finished listening to The Boyz and it started playing a stray kids song, not exactly a fan of stray kids guys so it felt like I was forced to listen to them. That being said I do enjoy some of the perks of the algorithm, I’ve only been on Spotify for a short time but with its help I was able to add songs a lot quicker to my library. The daily mix recs are also really spot on.

The layout is -.- sigh~ everything is all just clustered into 3 bottom bar options. The first one has all these things put into one, podcasts, recently played, your fav artists, radio etc. The second is your search bar And third is your library (these aren’t bad). Nice and minimal but once I’m in that first one I’m overwhelmed and don’t even scroll past the first two subheadings. There is also no lyrics feature for like 95% of the songs on there. I listen to mumble rappers like Young Thug and Roddy Rich so I like to know wth they’re saying lol. Some songs have moving images which is pretty cool.

Anyhow, whatever perks you’ve heard about Spotify from others is most likely true and I can even say worthwhile. I know that cause my friend has like 2 Google home minis for free and gets these reciptify thingie that excites her lol. It’s also tax free, Apple Music Canada started taxations on its service at the beginning of this year so it costs a bit more. Basically I felt like making a switch was kind of pointless as an Apple user, if you use android then I definitely would recommend Spotify. I chose to switch cause my friend told me that it has a memory space saver option. I hoard songs so my Apple Music currently takes up 30gb of my 64gb phone -.- but do research more beforehand who knows the benefits highlited by others might entice you more. <3

[metaphorical-love-for-a-car]

Godfathers-- Crowley x Aziraphale x Reader (part two)

Request; “Could I get a plantonic X Reader where the reader is pregnant (with a ex-boyfriend’s baby) and Aziraphale and Crowley are very protective of them and the reader unexpectly goes into labor at Azzy’s shop and Crowley attempts to drive everyone to to hospital. And I say attempt as Reader ends up giving birth in Crowley’s car due to traffic.” (anon)

Warnings; none! :)

Word Count; 2.4k

Notes; the wait is finally over! sorry it’s taken me so long to post lol ALSO sorry if it’s not very accurate? i don't know anything about pregnancy, I just know what google tells me lol

"Crowley, are you sure? I really don't want to be a bother," you mumbled. He scoffed and shook his head. He tucked one of the bags he was holding under his arm, allowing himself to better talk with his hand.

"You'll only be a bother if you trash the place. Or be nice to my plants." Crowley paused. He pointed at you before giving you a stern look. "Don't be nice to them. They don't deserve it." You snorted, assuming he was joking. He opened the door to his apartment and motioned you in. You followed him inside, marveling at the place. Everything was spic and span, totally immaculate.

"Beautiful place you've got," you complimented. The tiniest smile crossed Crowley's lips.

His apartment didn't obey the normal laws of physics. It was a bit like the Tardis. The inside made the outside look unbelievable. Crowley was able to change bits of it as he pleased. In this case, he was able to add on an extra bedroom just for you. He set the bags he was carrying on the foot of the bed, glancing around the room before nodding in approval. He always considered himself good at interior design, though he'd never tell anyone that. "A friend of mine is bringing some dinner by. I just ordered some takeout, hope you don't mind." When you shook your head, he continued, "Good. Now, the entire place is soundproofed, so you can vent... or scream... or cry... or whatever it is people do after a heartbreak."

"Thank you, Crowley. I really appreciate it." He nodded and sauntered out of the room, leaving you to unpack your belongings.

You were changing into some more comfortable clothes when you heard muffled voices from the other side of the bedroom door. The rational, mature part of your mind told you that it would be rude to eavesdrop, but the curious, monkey side of your brain kept chanting about how you should listen in. It's not difficult to understand which side won. You pressed your ear against the door, straining to catch some of their conversation.

"...doing is nice, Crowley."

"Oh, shut up."

"You know, if you could whip up a whole new room, you could have miricaled a couch. Or at least another chair or two." Your brows furrowed. Miracles?

"Well, I wasn't thinking about that, Aziraphale. I've never had someone else stay here before!"

"Lucky for you, I have an idea since it'd be too obvious to add any new furniture at this point... Bean bags!"

"No. Absolutely not. I will not allow those abominations in my flat." You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing. As much as you wanted to stay in hiding and hear where the conversation would go next, your stomach's demonstration of whale noises reminded you that that was not an option. You slowly pulled the door open, poking your head out and glancing around. Crowley had his back to you, but the newcomer caught sight of you from over Crowley's shoulder. He flashed you a bright smile. At the time, you didn't know him very well, but you recognized him from his occasional visits to Crowley's. His fluffy hair and out of date clothing choices made him hard to forget.

"Hello, my dear. It's wonderful to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances," Aziraphale hummed as he approached you. He pulled you into an embrace. Normally, you wouldn't want a person you hardly knew to touch you, but Aziraphale was like a ball of sunshine. He was incredibly comforting, something which you desperately needed at the moment. "Come along, let's get you something to eat before the food gets cold!"

The three of you divvied out the takeout. Crowley led you into what you assumed was his office slash living room, which hardly had any furniture in it at all. You and Aziraphale plopped onto two beanbags, and Crowley sprawled across a chair that looked more like a throne. He turned on the television, and Aziraphale raised a brow at him when Golden Girls came across the screen. "Again? My boy, how many times have you watched this series?" Crowley threw his arms up dramatically.

"It's not like I choose it every time! The TV has a mind of its own. And besides, it's a good show."

"You can't use that excuse for everything, Crowley. You're starting to turn into the boy who cried wolf." The red-head scoffed at the notion.

"Please, Aziraphale," he scoffed before turning to look at you, "What do you think about Golden Girls?"

"I've heard the name, but I've never actually seen it before." Crowley's eyebrows shot up as his posture went rigid.

"Never? Here I was, thinking you were a person of sensible taste. This must be fixed immediately." He pressed a button on the remote, flipping through the channels until he found one playing the very first episode. Aziraphale sighed and sank further into the bean bag chair. He shoveled the yellow rice into his mouth as Crowley animatedly explained to you the wonderful show that is Golden Girls.

At first, the plan was to stay at Crowley's until you were able to get back on your feet and find a place of your own. But with only a part-time job and a child on the way, you weren't sure how you were going to afford it. Aziraphale could sense your growing anxiety and suggested you stay with one of them until you felt ready to move out. You gladly accepted the invitation, having grown close to them since you first moved in. The three of you had spent many nights drinking non-alcoholic beverages and binging Golden Girls, and you always enjoyed popping into Aziraphale's bookshop. It took a lot of convincing, but you finally managed to get him to help you organize the mess of books that were piled around. The more time you spent around them, the more you realized that they weren't so human. I mean, they weren't exactly hiding it. It's a miracle more people didn't put it together.

Aziraphale thought it would be a good idea to check up on Adam. They couldn't just leave him completely alone, him being the anti-christ and all. So the three of you piled into the Bentley and made your way to Tadfield. You and your rather large belly took up a majority of the backseat. Traffic was terrible, as usual, but you made it through with the help of one of your favorite snacks at the moment-- a sauerkraut sandwich. Just two pieces of bread with sauerkraut in between. It grossed out Aziraphale and Crowley, but they knew better than to face the wrath of a pregnant person... especially after they saw how your emotions constantly changed. One moment you were crying over not being able to open a pickle jar by yourself, and the next you were screaming at your phone for charging too slow. Needless to say, they were afraid of being the target of your mood swings.

Crowley led the way through Hogback Wood, while you and Aziraphale walked arm-in-arm behind him. "Please be careful with our lunch, dear." The angel grimaced every time the wicker basket was swung.

"Calm down, Aziraphale. Nothings going to happen to the food," Crowley groaned, "Their hideout is right down here. They'll probably be playing with prop swords or whatnot." You could hear the group of children shouting. Sure enough, they came into view and were swinging long sticks at each other. A boy with brown, curly locked pointed his stick toward you all.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"Sir Crowley Hellion, accompanied by Lord Aziraphale Inamorato. We brought along our guest, the kind (Y/F/N)." The demon and angel bowed, playing along with the game. You, on the other hand, were too hot and had too big of a belly to be doing such. Instead, you just waved at them. The rest of the group of children appeared, all eyeing the three of you suspiciously.

"What's in the basket?" a boy with dirt all over his face asked. Crowley held up the basket in question, raising a brow.

"Sandwiches."

"For all of us?"

"Yup."

"Did they make 'em?" He pointed his stick towards you. Aziraphale shook his head.

"No, I did." All of the children seemed relieved by this.

"Good. I heard pregnant people like to eat weird stuff on their sandwiches." They all gathered around Crowley as he handed one to each of them.

"You're telling me," he muttered under his breath. Which, thanks so your pregnant superhuman capabilities, didn't escape your hearing.

"Sorry, Crowley, what was that?" The demon froze like a deer caught in headlights. He stuttered for a moment, trying to come up with something clever and not insulting to say. You laughed and pat him on the shoulder. "Calm down! I'm just teasing. Now, hand me one of those sandwiches so I can go sit down. My back is killing me."

Everyone gathered near their fort and ate lunch. You were beginning to have stomach pains, but you blamed it on the sauerkraut combined with all the walking you did. The Them, as you learned they were called, explained the game they were playing. Adam was playing as Henry VIII, Brian and Wensleydale were guards, and Pepper was one of his many wives to be beheaded. The twist? She fought back, not wanting to come to her untimely end just because she was unable to bear a son. "So, what're you having?" Pepper asked.

"A girl," you answered fondly. Three of the Them smiled and congratulated you, but Adam leaned back and sighed.

"Sorry, guess that means you'll have to be beheaded." The children all started giggling, and Crowley snorted. You grimaced, putting a hand on your stomach. Aziraphale watched you worriedly. He placed a gentle hand on your arm.

"Are you alright?" Adam's brows knit together.

"I was just joking. We're not really beheading you." You waved him off.

"Don't worry about it, love. Just having a spell of contractions is all." Crowley leaned forward. Worry filled his features.

"Is the baby coming? Already? Should we leave?" You laughed before grimacing again.

"No, I don't think she's coming yet. I'm not due for another three weeks. But I think it probably is a good idea to head back."

The two helped you back to the Bentley, with the Them trailing behind out of curiosity. Thankfully, you didn't have to walk terribly far. Crowley had managed to park nearby just in case of a moment like this. You all piled into the car and waved the children goodbye. Crowley peeled out of  Tadfield, causing Aziraphale to look even more concerned. As you got closer to London, the traffic worsened and so did your contractions. The three of you were sitting in a standstill, and you were groaning in pain in the backseat.

"You know, we've got car parks everywhere... McDonald's, supermarkets, stadiums... the fucking M25!" Crowley screeched, gripping the steering wheel and shaking himself back and forth.

"Crowley! Your screaming is not helping!" Aziraphale huffed.

"Could the both of you please shut up so I can focus on not imploding?" Concern settled deeper into Aziraphale's features, and a hiss escaped Crowley's lips.

"I think we're running out of time," the angel whispered. "We need a miracle." Crowley gave him a look, and Aziraphale nodded. The demon sighed, taking the angel's hand in his own. Reality seemed to warble around the Bentley, which caused you to feel even worse. You ended up hurling, and Crowley let out a string of swears at the sight. "Look! We're at the hospital. Let's get them taken care of before we worry about a perfectly cleanable mess, hm?"

"Fine, but you better be naming this kid after me for all I've been through!"

The two helped you inside to get taken care of, and they were with you for every step of the way. Several hours later, you held your daughter in your arms. She clutched onto Aziraphale's finger, causing him to smile wider than you had ever seen before. Crowley stood behind the angel, trying to look like he wasn't paying much attention and clearly failing. You offered to let him hold the baby, and he accepted without a moment of hesitation. As you watched him carefully cradle the little girl in his arms, you figured this would be the perfect moment to propose the idea you've been harboring for the past month. "I've been thinking about how much you guys have helped me. I don't know where I would be if it wasn't for you two. So, I was wondering if maybe the both of you would like to make our little family official by being the godfathers?" Aziraphale gasped, eyes widening. He excitedly looked to Crowley.

"Oh, my dear! Did you hear that? Us... godfathers!" Crowley didn't reply. He just froze for a moment. A tinge of worry went through you. You didn't even consider the possibility of him not wanting to be a godfather. You and Aziraphale shared a look before continuing to stare at Crowley.

"Ngk," he sniffled, "don't look at me. Here, angel, take the kid." Crowley passed the baby off to Aziraphale before furiously rubbing his eyes. You sat up a little more.

"Are you... crying!"

"No!" he said with a defensive hiss. "Okay, maybe I am... just a little... You seriously want me to be a godfather? I can understand him. He's a literal angel, but I'm a demon why would you want me?" You sighed, leaning back into the pillows.

"Crowley, you were the one who was there for me when I needed someone, and you were the one who took me in when I had nowhere to go. Of course, I want you to be my daughter's godfather. I couldn't think of anyone else."

The demon sniffled for a few more minutes before finally composing himself. He watched the infant be placed in the bassinette and smiled. A true, genuine smile. Crowley gently touched the baby's cheek, leaning closer. "Don't worry. I'll try to be a good godfather. If it's the last thing I do, I'll make sure you have a good life, okay?"

~*~*~

Godfathers Tag List; (might be missing some, there was a lot of you lmao)

@justcallmecinammon​

@sdavid09​ 

@lokis-sunshine​

@spookyconsultingcriminal​

@dabbingintoart​

@sirkekselord

@strangerthings14

Good Omens Tag List;

@kawaiiusagichansan

@fatbottomedboi 

@godhateskyleigh

@drhughgrection

@popbubblegumpop

@shirukitsune

@slithredn

@dabbingintoart

@groupies-do-it-better

Permanent Tag List;

@blitchen

@blitchen-fics

[hereisisa]

I saw Frozen 2 and there’s a lot to say. I’m not gonna write in any particular order so I apologize if this seems a bit...disconnected.

- Elsa is a cute little angel when she sleeps. Expecially in the wagon scene. I wanted to take a pic. lol

- Elsa and Anna entering the castle, arms in arms at the end of “some things never change” is something I’ll need to rewatch over and over.

- I didn’t like how ready Elsa was to leave at any time (night and day) forgetting she has Anna following her. Even after the fire, she’s following Bruni and boom, Anna hugs her from behind. Of course she’s fast to recover and ask her how she feels...but if they wanted to show her priority was to find the voice....mission accomplished. It shouldn’t have been this way tho.

- One of the K’s proposal was really ridiculous, Anna’s watching the dam, she casually talks about how it may break, and he has to “reassure her” it’s gonna be fine and she needs a hug over it. Fanservice. It was a casual convo, not a dramatic scene. There was no need for all that thing even if it didn’t bother me, it made ma laugh. They did it to prove Anna cares about him and it explains why she says yes later...otherwise the audience has no idea the relationship evolved since last time we saw them. Anyway it seemed weird as fuck and totally ridiculous. Nobody needs a hug over something that it’s ... NOT happening in that very moment.

- Kristoff’s song. It totally stopped the movie. The song is cute, but it’s one of those things that could have been cut to give more space at the end.

It was “pee time” for all kids in the theater who were bored, and it was “let’s check the time” for the moms who reached for the phone in their purses. I would have cut it, but if you cut that...well you also cut the only thing he does in the whole movie. :/ Cause it’s his only storyline.

- I loved how furious Anna was when Elsa made her leave. It was a dick move, Elsa, and again, instead of opening up to her sister she sent her away. She may have “changed” into a 5th spirit, but this is NOT growth. Not at all. She’s still not sharing her pain, and still not opening up. She didn’t change, and she should.

Anyway if this is all the “fighting” they did during the movie...lol I’m on board. It’s not a fight at all.

- “Show yourself” is amazing. I loved how Elsa is crying when she’s reaching the glacier. She’s so beautiful when she wipes the tears from her face.

- I’ve cried a little bit over “show yourself” but the fact that it was in italian really stopped me from being emotional. I need to watch it in original language.

There were young kids there...3/4 year olds, who didn’t understood most of the movie. It was too difficult for them, the plot too complicated, and what’s happened to Elsa wasn’t properly explained in a way kids would understand it.  They were annoyed at Olaf’s “big words”, and didn’t cry cause they didn’t even understood Elsa died. They cried when Anna cried, cause it was obvious what was happening there.

Older kids (7/8) as my daughter cried for the minute Olaf started to melt, and on. Elsa’s death wasn’t too emotional to be honest.

Kids cried but were also annoyed after 1 minute of Anna’s song. It’s not “harmonious” enough, people got bored.

- The moment when Anna apologizes to Kristoff for leaving him behind felt totally wrong. It wasn’t the right moment. Any sane woman who just lost a sister would even remotely THINK of something else, like...apologizing for something like that. Again, the way they had to bend the storyline to prove the proposal made sense, it’s unbelievable! I said it was fanservice but it’s not.

It’s about the little things they had to insert here and there to show it makes sense for them to do the next step.

Spoiler: it doesn’t.

Every one of those moments, as the one in front of the dam I’ve discussed before, feels out of place, exaggerated, like they were “reaching”.

- When K does the proposal and calls Anna an extraordinary person look at Elsa, she’s nodding. Not because she agrees with the proposal as “they” said LMAO but because she is confirming how amazing her sister is. I loved how after the proposal Elsa bends her head trying to catch a glimpse of her sister’ eyes, to see how she really feels. She goes to look for her face, to look at her in the eyes. Very human, I loved it. She didn’t react in any particular way to the proposal tho, as expected.

- Honeymaren. It’s nothing. Nothing at all. A not-existent relationship. I don’t understand what’s there to see. Now that i’ve seen her interaction with Elsa and Anna I have 2 things in my mind:

1) there was NOTHING REMOTELY SEXUAL in their enteractions. No flirting, no hints to anything, it confirmed to me what I already knew, that Elsa is asexual.

Yes, in my mind she’ll always be a lesbian and in love with Anna, but this is my ship, my dream. In the reality of the show, in canon.....I strongly believe they’re painting her as asexual.

There is nothing about Elsa that hints to romance, to flirt, to interest towards women or men. She’s pure as a virgin, she’s an ethereal goddess, an angel. And I’m perfectly fine with it.

2) Since there is this...not existent relationship between Elsa and the Nolthundra, I’ve found extremely arrogant from Honeymaren’ to say “your place is in the forest”. Like uh??? Who asked you? You are you? Who cares about your opinion? Why do you believe you know what’s better for Elsa? It irritates me, but I’m wrong to be irritated to her. I should be irritated with the writers who didn’t find a better way to explain why Elsa should stay there. I know, they changed your story and you couldn’t kill Elsa....but a better “plan B” had to take place!

- The end: it’s clear as the sun that Elsa lives with the Nolthundra and that she’s doing a trip to the glacier in the end. You can absolutely see Anathollan in front of her, the same shape we saw before in the movie, as she runs towards it. Yes, the dark sea is iced cause it’s almost winter now, but it’s there. She’s NOT going to Arendelle at all, not in that moment anyhow.

- Anna as Queen feels extremely weird. She looks like Iduna. My daugther noticed how her clothes matched..................Mathias’ ones. lmao. I see now how naive we were to think we’ll see a coronation. We saw it in one movie, no chances in hell they’ll do another similar scene, it would feel like a unnecessary copy.

Now....on with the characters and ships’ reviews:

KA: there’s nothing sexy at all. The wagon scene was innocent and pure and I can’t believe people thought it was flirty. Even the “leather” comment.....I think the italian translation here really helps to explain what Anna meant. They translated it with “I prefer you when you wear animal fur”, which is exactly what Kristoff wears. Translators didn’t see an innuendo and I don’t think there was one. Anyway Kristoff’ only plot was to propose. If you take the proposal out of the movie you LOSE NOTHING, and you gain 10 minutes who could be spent on expanding the rushed finale.

elsanna: I felt an enormous affection and love between the 2 sisters, for Anna it lasted for the whole movie, for Elsa I didn’t feel it when she was too focused on her trip, but every little gesture screamed “love”. I didn’t think it was “too much”, it could 100% pass as sisterly love only, and if you don’t rewatch the scenes in slow motion and don’t see the little things as Anna staring at her lips....it’s really NOT “too much” for the anti-elsanna viewer.

elsamaren: not registered.

Elsa: she’s larger than life. She’s everything. Of course I didn’t like when she sent Anna away, or when she ignored her, or when she dumped her responsabilities like that.....But she was magnificent. My Elsa is still Queen of Arendelle and I’m taking home from this movie only the good things. She definitely has to apologize to Anna, and if there will be a third movie, I would like it to be about Elsa running after Anna, about Elsa showing how much she cares and about Elsa making sacrifices for Anna. She has to. Otherwise it’s not fair.

The kids loved her tho....it was like she was the only thing they saw on screen.

Anna: I’m sorry to say it but if Elsa was more popular before.....now they’re not even on the same planet.

If this movie accomplishes one thing, is to increase the gap between the love/attention Elsa will get from kids, and the love/attention Anna will. And there’s nothing to do about that. Elsa is this gorgeous magic being, pure and beautiful, who rides an ice horse and control the elements....and Anna destroyed a dam once. I’m sorry for Anna cause there is really no game now. It’s the sisters’ franchising but this is this movie consecrates Elsa as its star.

My daughter is in love with Nokk and her favorite scene is when Elsa turns Nokk into ice. She thinks it’s “not fair” that Elsa isn’t Queen anymore, she laughed at the Kristoff’ song (she liked it=, and she would want Elsa to live with her sister because “I don’t like the idea that when you grow up you have to go to live elsewhere”.

LOL @ Jenn who wrote a movie for kids with adult messages they may not like.

I will probably find more to add later, but this is for now.

I want to ask a favor to my anons.....instead of sending me questions about what I’ve seen, please, interact with this post. I want to keep it all together. Otherwise (no big deal!) I will screencap your anons and add them here, if they’re related to this post. :)

[lokisasylum]

Map of the Soul: 7 Album - First listen review

[I won’t bother reviewing the ones from PERSONA that were added, since I already did a post for Persona when it came out. Only the new songs]

#1. Interlude: SHADOW

WOW.... just when you thought the first version hit hard/differently. The extended version comes in to choke-slam you against the wall.

#2.  Black Swan

Our new Royal to take a spot in the throne of power along with Blood Sweat & Tears, Spring Day, Fake Love, and Outro: TEAR.

Do we even need to add more additional to what we’ve been saying since its release? As an artist, the lyrics still pull at my heart strings the same way they did the first time I heard it. Especially the verse that says:

‘If this can no longer resonate No longer make my heart vibrate Then like this may be how I die my first death But what if that moment’s right now Right now .’

This verse can be applied to ANY time we loose faith in ourselves or have to give up on a dream/passion and how that separation slowly kills us inside.

#3. Filter (Jimin’s solo)

....Not gonna lie, this song gives me TRUST ISSUES just because its Jimin LOL!

‘Cause I remember seeing & hearing Serendipity for the first time and it was such a lovely melody and the lyrics were so soothing like a lullaby expressing Love in its purest form.

But then you see the choreo and it all went Magic Mike SO FAST X”D.

Because on one hand the lyrics (at first glance) can be interpreted as Jimin seeing himself through Army’s eyes. How WE see his “Duality” - cute/adorable/lovely one minute and then sensual/tantalizing the next.

That boring expression of yours, boring feet Please look at me now Put down your phone, don’t even think about turning your head Let me know your type You can choose and use me yeah

Oh I cover your eyes with my hand Oh go towards the secret I’ll take you to a brand new world Yeah open your closed eyes now go!

Mix the colors of the palette, pick your filter Which me do you want? The one who’s going to change your world, I’m your filter Cover it over your heart

(Ok) How is it, do you feel it a bit? Is it still not enough? (Yes) Girl you have your chance I can be your Genie How ’bout Aladdin? I’ll become anything [for you] You can choose and use me yeah

That first part really does sound like how he would accommodating his “Persona” to make us happy.  And every-time something he does isn’t enough he changes again. 

Of course this doesn’t have to mean what he’s doing in the present, “Filter” could be just like “Lie” which spoke of his past-self and how he used to blame himself for the group’s failures. So maybe he’s expressing how’s he’s had to change himself throughout the years to please the fans as long as they understood and accepted who HE REALLY IS beyond the Idol persona.

Or y’know, this is just a very sexy number he wanted to try and shy away from his comfort zone XD. And I’ll bet all my money that the choreo’s gonna be SEXY AF and WE AIN’T READY FOR IT.

P.S. that moment when the music stops and he goes: “OKAY.” WITH HIS SEXY DEEP AF VOICE, JESUS!!!!

#4. My Time (Jungkook’s solo)

Kook’s solo not only reminded me heavily of “Begin”, but it also sounds like what “Decalcomania” should’ve been if he had released the full version.

He’s seeing himself not as an Idol, but not quite as Jeon Jeongguk either.

Like he’s just standing in the middle watching his two selves, his two Personas and trying to find which one is his. Which reality he is living in--or should be living in. Which part of his life belongs to his “normal/non Idol self” and which one is part of the mask/Idol self he puts up for the fans.

And yes, you know, yes. you know Oh I can’t call ya, I can’t touch ya Oh I can’t Let me know Can I someday find my time? Finna find my time Someday finna find my time 

This verse sounds like he’s still experiencing that loneliness that all artists experience during stardom very often (Note on how in Shadow Yoongi is the one who says: “Nobody ever told me how lonely it is up here.” ). Like how he sometimes wishes he could tell someone, but can’t?

#5. Louder than bombs

All rise for our National Anthem!

If Shadow hit hard while choke slamming you. Then this song is the overkill.

The vocals are insane, and the lyrics mixed with the music tell one story through two points of view. Actor in the spotlight and Actor as a Spectator.

This is BTS telling us how people view them and having to keep their emotions in check in the face of criticism from general audience and even antis, versus how they truly feel inside and behind close doors.

Break, unwind, let it out, breathe out, stand up, pray for better days and keep moving.

#6. ON

THIS👏SONG👏FUCKING👏SLAPS👏PERIOD👏!

The energy, the rap line, the vocal line, the CRAZY FOOTWORK AND INSANE CHOREO.

THE JIKOOK NIP-SLIPS

THE BODY ROLLS

THE TATTOOS---

THE SUBTLE “GO FUCK YOURSELF!”

I LOVED IT and it gave me such a strong throwback to NOT TODAY.

#7. UGH!

This is CYPHER_pt3 Killer, CYPHER pt. 4, TEAR & DDAENG’s lovechild.

This song is the Rap Line going like: “THESE MOTHERFUCKERS WANTED TO TRY ME (AGAIN) AND IMMA GIVE THESE BITCHES A CYPHER.

BITCHES LOVE CYPHERS.”

#8. 00.00 (Zero o’ Clock)

When I saw that we were having another Vocal Line unit song the first thing I kept praying for was: “PLEASE don’t let this be another Truth Untold...”

Because I absolutely HATED the hypocrisy that came out of this fandom ESPECIALLY the toxic Solo Stans who did nothing but hype up their faves while shitting on other members (I will never forgive those who went so far as to defame and even act as if Jimin wasn’t part of the Vocal Line, ya’ll are still trash for that).

But I gotta say Zero o’ Clock was totally something I can see them enjoying while performing. Despite, of course, the song talking about hardships and finding a new way to be happy throughout the tough times even when you don’t feel like smiling.

I liked it, the vibes are a bit like “2,3″ and “Magic Shop”. A song for HEALING.

#9. Friends (VMIN sub-unit)

VMIN

SOULMATES FOREVER.

I also LOVED that they added the voice messages Jimin & Tae used to leave each other since their recording schedules were different and they didn’t see each other. That was such a nice touch. T_T

That little “Hello my Alien” .... that made me emotional. I kept imagining those mischievous kids running around playing pranks on the other members, like that one time they made Hobi fall off the chair and got chased by him XD ...*SOBS*

#10. Inner Child (Taehyung’s solo)

All the time I kept listening to this song I kept imagining Taehyung sitting in a park next to his Younger Self, like the way a father sits with their youngest son and talks to them about life. What to expect, what will change and how to go about these changes.

Really heartfelt song.

#11. Moon (Jin’s solo)

Just like Tae’s song, “Moon” makes me thinking of all those moments when Jin kept doing his “Heart Event” where he kept pulling out hearts out of nowhere. Each time more clever than the first, just to show ARMY how much he loves us.

I wonder all of a sudden, do you really know yourself? Do you know how pretty you are? I will orbit you I will stay by your side I will become your light All for you 

This part in particular makes me think of Jin up on stage staring at a stadium full of bright little stars that are in reality Army Bombs.

#12. Respect (Namgi Unit-song)

Fave verse from this song is:

“Re-spect”, it’s literally looking again and again Looking again and again and you’ll see faults But despite of that you still want to look

And the fact that you have two members of different ages (Hyung/Donsaeng), in a sort of conversation that goes back and forth between what the real meaning of “RESPECT” is and how people throw the word around, even those who speak ill of others behind their backs.

And were they talking in Satoori in the end??? That was nice XD

#13. We are Bulletproof: the Eternal

Throw stones at me We don’t fear anymore We are we are together bulletproof (Yeah we have you have you) Even if winter comes again Even if I’m blocked off, I will still walk We are we are forever bulletproof (Yeah we got to heaven)

#14. Outro: EGO (Jhope’s Solo)

EGO is Jhope and Jhope is EGO in all it’s glory.

Like “Just Dance” i like the contrast how in EGO he’s doing a back-track to his younger self, how he used to dance to prove something TO OTHERS, where as now that he’s older he just accepts that everything that happened is just part of life. So he’s a happier now doing what he loves BECAUSE he loves to dance.

#15. ON (feat. Sia)

....WHY?

Like... I don’t wanna be THAT BITCH and drag nobody, but like... was this really necessary?

I mean atleast Nicki Minage and Halsey had their own parts that they owned like the bad bitches that they are.

But like...

Yeah, Imma stop right here.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Five : Two Truths and a Lie

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

After a few harrowing days, we tie up loose ends and answer questions, while Anti goes searching for answers in a less orthodox way.

Trigger warnings for sudden distress, physical abuse and restraint, mentions of cutting and blood (not self-inflicted), and emotional manipulation.

Section Five of Chapter Three: Two Truths and a Lie

Okay I usually try to save questions I don’t get to for the next time I get to the boys but we’re just going to have some miscellaneous question time lol so I can clean out my inbox! you can ask anybody anything right now. I’ll probably just clear everything out and then later or tomorrow I’ll set a scene

I do think I want to come back towards more casual answering like we used to at the start, so if I start answering questions at more random times instead of like in two-hour chunks bear with me :)

Except Trick he’s not taking questions D:

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dap! You feeling any better?

Dap is still cozied up in his blankets, holding you between his pale palms as he rouses himself. He sets you down on his lap.

“Feel very tired,” he confesses. “But not so much in the no-energy way. More like the no-interest way.”

“No interest in what?” asks Red softly, coming over off-screen to set a cup of water on his bedside table. Dapper doesn’t answer, rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

“Glad your color’s up,” says Red, though you can hear the frown in his voice. “You come back much quicker than Blue, honestly. Maybe you didn’t use as much power as I thought?”

Dapper shrugs and his stomach growls, but he doesn’t complain.

Anonymous asked: Hey boys

“Hi,” waves Dapper, smiling for you. “How are you, camera?”

Red chuckles and shuffles around the room.

“It talks to me,” signs Dapper dreamily. “Lots of voices. Cameras, brothers, bears, empty rooms. It talks to me.“

aether-mae asked: Magicians! can you either tell us your location, or tell us a location near you? Are you still in Peru?

“We are in Peru,” says Emmanuela. “It may not be safe to be more specific than that.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What are you two up to?

“I’ve got to go get him some breakfast here in a minute,” murmurs Red, coming to set you on the desk in the corner of the square little room, so you can see them better. There’s water damage making the ceiling sag and Dapper scratches on a little red bite on his neck, hugging his filthy white bear to his chest.

“I shouldn’t have spent so much on getting a room for a couple days,” sighs Red. “But he needed to lie down. And I have to admit it’s nice not sleeping on the street for a night.”

spicydanhowell asked: dap, red, when you're up, have you noticed maybe some churches or other places in local communities that have food donations? or actually, all kinds of fruit grow in peru. if you can find some kind of garden or orchard, you could snag some fruit when nobody's around. either of these would be a lot better than shoplifting or robbing houses :(

“You’re probably right,” mumbles Red morosely, dragging his hands through his hair. “I don’t trust those food donation places though. Fucking cops could be hanging out. Scumbags. Worse than American cops, here. Maybe.”

“That only happened once,” says Dapper. “Now you’re paranoid.”

“What?”

“It only happened once,” repeats Dapper, frowning. “That the cop followed you home after you went to get food from the nuns. And then Anti handled it. You’re paranoid.”

Red pauses, his mouth opening and shutting once.

“Dap… bud, you know I don’t remember farther back than Norway, right?”

Dapper doesn’t say anything, picking at the dirt on his bear’s ears.

“There’s no gardens around here that I know of, we’re right in the middle of this ugly city and everything’s apartment buildings and run-down businesses. I’m going to try and find a restaurant that throws stuff out or something before I steal anything, I guess. But I’m scared to be out in public and I just… I just wish we had…”

He kneads his thumb into his palm and goes quiet, his head down from the weight of it all.

cest-mellow asked: hey dok! how are you feeling with the magicians now? any safer than before?

He slept in his own bed tonight, curled up beneath the covers, but when he comes back to you, he looks upset, maybe even tearful.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, holding you very tight again, rubbing at his wrists. “But I woke up afraid today and I - I - ”

He pauses, staring around him, his mouth shuddering.

“I don’t know, I felt safe yesterday, but I’m worried they did something to my head.”

He pushes his palm against the side of his skull and closes his eyes, biting down hard on his lip.

“Don’t know what kind of powers they have,” he whimpers. “What sort of things they could make me think. I never trust anybody but my family anymore… one time Anti said I could go to the synagogue, but I was too scared even to go… everybody is a threat.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: They've made a vow to us that they won't harm you, Dok. Don't be afraid :) we got your back

Dok breathes out a low sigh and swallows.

“Okay. Okay. They haven’t hurt me yet. Or the ones I’ve met, anyway. I don’t think that Old Man likes me, JP said… and the medic girl, she doesn’t like me. I don’t want her to touch me.”

He wraps his arms around himself.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What have you been doing to keep busy, Dok?

“I sleep… I’m so tired. I haven’t really been… coherent enough to do much of anything this last week, but now…”

He chuckles, rubbing his arms. “Well, I confess a little boredom, but that’s the least of my worries, really.”

cest-mellow asked: magicians, did you guys do something to dok’s head?

The magicians seem to have found a way to share JP’s little network for your messages across devices, because you find yourself looking through a phone camera at Genesis and Hermann.

“Oh, yay, it is working,” he says.

“To his head?” asks Genesis.

“Oh, no, no, certainly not,” says Hermann. “What, hit him or hypnotize him or something like that? No, he’s okay. Is he scared of that?”

“It’s not surprising for him to be confused,” says Genesis.

And then, after a moment, she adds, “It was the same way with me, when I started to realize I hated my parents. It’s like - what, am I really thinking these things? Is this really all true? I think it would have been almost a relief to wonder if someone was hypnotizing me, so I didn’t have to admit what I was thinking.”

Hermann gives her privacy to say it, turning away and busying himself with whatever they’re working on. A moment later, he straightens up with his arms laden with bags and boxes and a backpack thrown over his shoulder.

“Good news, though,” he says, smiling at you. “We finished going through all the things they had in the car, so now the medico can see everything that didn’t seem dangerous. Do you think he’ll like having his stuff back?”

“We think this is his,” adds Genesis, holding up Dok’s nice white doctor’s coat. “Yeah?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Where'd you find that? I'm sure he'll love to have it back!

“They left their car behind,” says Genesis. “So everything that wasn’t on the backs of the others is with us now!”

nikkilbook asked: Could have sworn Marvin had a Lapwing tattoo...? Pretty sure he was in the Irish order. And just in case, check for the name “Marvin McLoughlin.” Not sure if that’s the one, but I figure it’s worth a shot.

“Oh, I do,” mumbles Blue.

You find him laid out in a new bed, dressed in white, looking very tired, but cozy beneath his covers.

“Yes, I think that’s what it is. A lapwing. I don’t remember well…”

———————

“Oh, Lapwing,” says JP, nodding at his computer. “Oh, excellent. Oh, perfect, thank you, thank you. An Irish magician. I will find him.”

Anonymous asked: Hello Marv, how are you feeling?

“A little zoned out,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “They gave me something different. I don’t mind, though. It calmed me down. Now I’m not so upset. I felt like I couldn’t even handle last night. But now I’m just drifting…”

He shivers, once.

“I’m just scared of what Anti will do to me… to Trick…”

bupine asked: what else was in the car, magicians?

“Well, we did find some creepy stuff,” confesses Hermann, frowning. “Like… masks and stuff.”

“Chains.”

“Yeah, things to torture people, you know, like - blowtorch?”

“Yeah, that’s the word. And this weird electric set-up. Like these bars that could shock you. Really fucked up stuff.”

“But then the rest of it is just normal stuff!” Hermann puts his hand in one of the boxes and rifles through. “Games, toys, books, art stuff. Mostly clothes!”

“We’ll let the medico look through the rest of it.”

bupine asked: hey anti, is trick ok?

Anti glances up at you, a warning in his eyes.

He’s sitting on his bed, eating cold red curry out of the take-out box while he works on his computer. It looks to be late afternoon with that much light coming in the window.

He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t move you, either, and you can see a figure laid out in the bed beside him, his messy hair fluffed against the pillows, breathing deep and steady as he sleeps.

aether-mae asked: Hey magicians, i was wondering if we could lead the other brothers who are also separated from the demon to you. Is there a location we could ask them to meet you at?

“Oh, please do,” begs Hermann, eyes wide. “Please bring the other boys here. We would really keep them safe, I do promise. I… I don’t know where we could meet them, I’d have to ask Emmanuela.”

“Good look convincing them,” mumbles Genesis, looking unconvinced, but sad too, because she knows even better than Hermann the way that they were living.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: You need to take care of him, Anti. He can't deal with your crap, okay?

Anti chooses to type his answers back to you. Actually, he doesn’t look to be typing at all, but his words show up on your screen nevertheless.

“What about this makes you think I’m not taking care of him?”

scunneredzombie asked: Y'know Anti... as horrid as all the things you're doing are, I'm starting to notice something. In your own weird way, you really do adore your brothers. You've said before you're incapable of love but, honestly? I doubt that. You love them. You want family just as much as they do. Why not give it to them, Anti? Why do you have to hurt them, why not allow you all to be a family? A normal, healthy, family?

Anti’s mouth opens angrily, and then he blushes dark, realizing he’s been caught red-handed showing mercy to one of his puppets.

“I do not adore him,” he sends you, eyes flashing. “He’s a guard dog. But if you want to believe I’m secretly a soft, loving, lonely little boy, hey - go right the fuck ahead.”

He smiles meanly at you.

“Family is a manipulation tactic. Trickshot is a pet.”

Anonymous asked: “What about this makes you think I’m not taking care of him?” Because you're you. Do we even have to elaborate?

“I can be nice,” types Anti, and gives you a mocking smile.

Trick shifts on the bed next to him and Anti’s face returns to apathetic concentration, putting another chopstick-full of curry in his mouth.

“Anti,” mumbles Trick, half asleep. Anti reaches back without looking to rub his back and Trick sighs warmly.

Anonymous asked: Magos, your goal is admirable, but you should know that it's futile on its current course. Do any of you have phones? Computers? Radios, even? Do you ever leave base? Do you have family, friends, with those things who live off-base? Then you're not secure enough to hide from the demon. He'll find you all, kill you all, and take Dok back for himself. If you can't find and save ALL the brothers soon, you'd just as well drop Dok off where the demon can find him, and maybe you'll survive longer.

Genesis has a fight in her eyes and she opens her mouth to speak, but before she can, Hermann is speaking, louder than you’ve ever heard him.

“Well, maybe so!” he says, scattering the birds from the trees.

He puts his head down and repeats it.

“Maybe so. Maybe the monster will find him again. Maybe the monster will find us and take him away. But I think… I think a week, two weeks, a month of being treated like a human being, as long as we can give him or his brothers being treated like a human being, with kindness, with respect, with basic needs - that…”

He nods his head, slow.

“That is worth it. That is worth whatever happens. That is a cause to die for. You hear about tragedies, sometimes, from afar, and so many people must have felt so hopeless… alone, even as they died. A moment of mercy is worth it. Maybe I can’t save them, but… I can help. I know that the magician is alive because of me. And that was worth it. I believe that, I do.”

He stares at the floor for a moment, and then, a little reddened from the passion of it, he turns to smile at Genesis and mumbles something about bringing Dok the first of his things before turning to shuffle away.

Genesis shoots you a look.

“Hermann is a man of God,” she says. “But I will fuck your shit up! Your monster was a little bitch on the shore of that river, there, I said it! Ran with his tail between his legs! Fuck it! We’re going to do the best we can. And if that doesn’t work, well, I’ll leave it to over-invested poets like that dumb-ass to make it okay.”

She beams fondly after Hermann and scoops up the rest of the boxes and backpacks, but as she moves, you see the smile on her face flicker away into worry.

Anonymous asked: Hermann, I think the glitch might be hiding somewhere in Asia, from what I can see.

“Oh, tell Emmanuela!” calls Hermann, when Genesis catches up to him.

“Oh, I don’t remember what JP said about sending the messages.”

“There’s like a button that - that one?”

“I don’t - oh, and then, Emmanuela - oh, it’s gone!”

“Is it with her?”

“Is it - yeah, I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.”

They pause, looking at each other.

“I’ll text her,” says Genesis.

—————————

You find Emmanuela in a small white office, flowers blooming on the shelf beside her. She’s writing something. She barely looks up as the message reaches her computer.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says.

The dark sheen of her hair glows in the morning light, falling down her back.

“You were right to mention it. You seem to be right. The sunbirds were a young order. Small and intimate. Not someone I’ve communicated with before, but someone I know of. Caleb was their leader’s name.”

She pauses for a moment in her writing. Her expression does not change. She stares ahead.

“The sunbirds are dead,” she says, and continues her work.

immabethehero asked: Red, Dap, if we said we could get you somewhere safe and off the streets, but away from Anti, would you take it?

Red glances at the camera, his eyebrow quirking up, a deep frown on his mouth.

“That sounds suspicious,” he says, getting a cup for water. “And I’m trying to get back to Anti, not farther away from him.”

He can’t keep a little irritation out of his voice.

bupine asked: we kind of do know why anti stole the brothers away. it's to do with a man called jack, who anti used to be friends with. we think he's still alive, but even anti doesn't know where he is. the brothers used to be friends with him. we don't know what happened to him, but all this revolves around this man.

“Hm, okay,” says JP, working at his computer, books stacked around him. He stretches his wrists, thinking. “I guess I could look for a Jack in the Lapwing records too. Ireland has a large magical order, though, even bigger than the whole of Peru.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Blue? Trick is... taking a social media break from us so we can't talk to him. I'm sorry he didn't take things well but you're right in taking care of yourself first. We need you to have your head on straight and you're heading in the right direction and we support that. We'll help you however we can.

“A social media break,” says Blue, and a laugh starts before the rest of the message registers.

“What… he won’t even talk to you?”

He pauses, staring at the wall.

“Give him time,” he mumbles finally, grief in his voice. “I’m sure he’ll… I’m sure he’ll come around, right?”

For a moment, there is nothing but the movement of footsteps in the hall and the buzzing of the lights.

And then, weakly:

“He didn’t… come to see me this morning. He comes to see me every morning… so I’m not alone all day.”

Swish, swish, click. Footsteps past his door. Thrumming lights. The largeness of his room and the smallness of himself inside of it. He rubs his own arm.

bupine asked: we're not trying to hurt trick, anti. we just want to know he's alright. how has he been? he won't talk to us anymore.

“Oh, I know you’re not,” types Anti, now not even looking at you, playing with Trick’s hair. Trick hums contentedly and scoots closer to Anti, relief so great it looks painful flickering through his face. “I know how attached you are to all of them. Some more than others, sure. But I know.”

He scratches his hand across Trick’s scalp. There’s a faint meowing outside the door, confused.

“He just needs a rest. Not like him to come begging to me, so I know he must have been really upset. Dok’s not here to comfort the little baby, so I’ll have to.”

Anti pauses, scratching beside Trick’s ear, humming a little as the light pours in. A big pink flower blooms on the headboard, but Anti hardly seems to notice.

“Then again, it is nice to have someone all sweet to myself again. I miss sleeping with my Dapper. And Trick is just so - ”

The typing pauses. Trick has slid an eye open, staring wearily, brokenly, lovingly up at Anti.

Anti runs his thumb down his face. He looks so much like him. Anti had almost forgotten. It’s been a long time since he spared Trick a glance. It used to upset him, the similarity there. But now…

Anti scratches gently through his beard, watching his boy. Maybe he’ll cut his hair today.

aether-mae asked: Dok! You need to get the magicians to find Red. We can try and get his location as best we can but we need to get him to you asap before he can get to anti

Dok recoils, holding his shoulders. “What - lead Red here? No, no, no, Red should be with Anti. We all should. I should be with Anti. Nobody here understands! Even if they are nice, they don’t understand and they never will! And Red - Red killed one of them. If there are people here who don’t like me, I can only imagine what they might think of him. No, no, keep him far away. I bet it’s easier for Anti to find him if he’s not here. Anti will get Red and then Anti will get me, too, and everything will be okay.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How do you all protect yourselves from attacks? Do you even get attacked, magicos?

“Ah, well,” says JP, continuing to type. “We’re in a very secure location, I can tell you that. It’s hidden in more ways than one. No one has ever attacked us at our home base, except one time when she was young Juana was possessed! But that hasn’t happened since. Something would have to get inside that was already a threat. And to be fair, there are quite a few powerful magicians here. Emmanuela, Christof - ”

He blanches and cuts himself down, a sudden grief twisting up his mouth.

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti can you let Trick feed his cat please? I know you won't do it but someone should.

“He feeds that cat just fine. It can wait another half hour for him to wake up.”

He is smiling down at Trick, watching him drift sleepily besides him. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so fond of him. Been too long since he had Dapper. Or anybody. He’s just been watching Blue sleep all week. Trick doesn’t even know you’re there, and Anti does not give it away.

Anonymous asked: Blue, you're going through a fucking lot right now. I can't imagine what it's like for you. But! What I can imagine is you at least getting to see everyone again! Don't ask me how, but I know there are currently people (good and safe people) out there researching on what's happened, how to help you, and even who you used to be. Please don't give up, there is hope out there, and we'll do our best to support you and let you know what's going on with your brothers.

Blue clasps his hands together, nodding slowly, too tired to cry.

“Thank you. I’m… I’ll do my best.”

He rubs at his face and breathes out a shuddering breath.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue? Do you trust the magicians??

“I don’t know,” he says, very small and very tired. “I don’t know anything anymore. Magicians are just people. And people can always turn out to be hateful. I don’t know.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, please just let Trick rest for the night... He feels really dejected because Blue wouldn't come with him, as you see, and he's really not doing well without any brothers, besides yourself, to help take care of and to live with.

“I think it has been hard for him, being away from everyone,” agrees Anti. “So needy.”

He smiles, but then a flash of anger rises on his face.

“Of course, that’s why Blue was supposed to come home. So Trick could have someone to take care of and be taken care of by. Guess I’ll just have to keep him in line myself.”

spicydanhowell asked: hey red? anti's actually quite close to finding dok, and the magicians have kept him healthy and fed, so if you go to them they will give you protection from the police, food, and medicine, and anti will come get you soon, And dok is missing you both so much :( anti will never find you if you run around like this. the magicians are really harmless. it would be best for dap to go there right now so he can be fed and medicated and get back to anti quickly. love you hunny, be safe.

Red squirms, standing close to Dap protectively. “I don’t know what they would do to a kid as powerful as him,” he says. “And even if they’re nice to Dok, we - we both hurt them. I killed that guy with the book and Dapper stabbed one and tortured the other.”

Dapper stares at his bear, seeming to not even hear.

“I don’t know. I don’t like it. I don’t - I just - I just want to go back to Anti!” He clutches his fists, overwhelmed. “And we can’t go anywhere now anyway. We don’t have a way to travel until I get more money and I got this place for another couple nights. As long as the cops don’t find us. And I think I’m even more wanted in Peru than I am here. I just - I want - ”

He cuts himself off again, biting down on his lip.

spicydanhowell asked: marv, chase is just sleeping, okay? i think he's really worn out from all the emotion. he's okay though. anti is being kind to him. he hasn't been punished. please don't worry dear.

“Oh, good,” breathes Blue, closing his eyes. “He’s not hurt. And maybe - maybe he’ll come see me when he wakes up. If Anti lets him. He wouldn’t choose not to come see me…”

Anonymous asked: How are you feeling right now Marvin? It might be good to get it out there if you're feeling up to it.

“Please don’t worry,” he murmurs. “I’m just tired. I’m starting to think this fatigue won’t go away. I can’t even walk today. The nurse has to help me. Still got this in my nose.”

He tugs wearily on his nasal cannula.

“Just feel… alone. And pretty pathetic. And I’m angry, I’m angry, I’m so angry.”

He covers his face with his hands.

“At everything.”

Anonymous asked: how long is the psychiatric hold supposed to last? were you evaluated yet blue? sorry if that's personal, but i guess this is actually a fib so maybe not.

“Someone’s supposed to come talk to me today. I just had an entrance exam. The only asked me like five questions. I think the doctor had been waiting for an admission like this. I don’t know how long they can keep me…”

spicydanhowell asked: its okay if you want to stay away a little longer red, but the magicians have told us that theyd happily take care of both of you. there are no hard feelings. they really, truly care about your family, and it is the best way to get back to anti. he is going to get there soon, and he'll be glad you took dap to a safe place

“I don’t need anyone taking care of my little brothers for me!” snaps Red, heat and shame rising in his cheeks. “And Anti would not want us to be there. No matter what choice I make I know that much for certain.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What else did you find?

“Hey, medico?”

There’s a knock on his door and Dok jolts up, blinking ans clutching you to his chest. Hermann pokes his head in a moment later, smiling gently.

“Hey, we’ve got some of your stuff from the car you guys took. Do you want to see it?”

Some of his stuff?

Dok blinks and then nods slowly, trying not to get his hopes up.

Genesis and Hermann bring him two backpacks, two boxes, and his own little draw-string bag. Relieved, he opens it a finds all of his own clothes inside.

“Thank you,” he gasps, clutching one of his three shirts to his chest.

“We got rid of anything electronic,” says Genesis. “Figured that was safer.”

A worm of distress wiggles through his chest, but he’ll take what he can get. “I know the way you think about my brother. I’m glad to have - oh!”

His coffee! From Trick!

He nearly drops you to hold it, squeezing his hands around the bag.

“We’ll let you look through it,” laughs Genesis.

“Yeah, let us know if you need anything,” adds Hermann, smiling.

They leave and shut the door behind them.

The lock does not click.

Dok stares up at it for a moment, thinking.

But he’ll focus on this for now.

Most everything is either his or Dapper’s or Blue’s. He hopes Red and Trick have most of their things. He has Blue’s clothes and more jewelry than he expected in one of the boxes, stuff he’s never even seen Blue wear before. Dapper’s clothes are here too - there’s more of them than Blue’s and Dok’s combined, hot sweatshirts and starchy dress shirts, nice pants and tight black shoes, even though he never leaves the house. One of the backpacks has paper, sketchpads, watercolors, colored pencils, chalks, and erasers. Dok puts a sketchpad beside him to look at later. Dap’s puppet toys are here too, and some nice red cloth and fairy lights. Dok can tell some stuff has been taken out, like collars and wrist restraints.

aether-mae asked: (For the magicians) Great! Yes! We would be more than happy to bring them to you, but we just need a location to ask them to come to. I was thinking we tell them anti is going to collect them there

Emmanuela drums her fingers along her desk, tilting her head at you.

“If there are others who can make it back - and if we can confirm that they aren’t possessed by the monster - your friends can come to the Church of Santo Domingo. We could meet them there. We are not far. They could wait by the skull of Santa Rosa inside. Be cautious not to lose their trust.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Dap! Does the Church of Santa Dominigo ring any bells?

Dapper’s head perks up.

“Red and Blue would not let me see her!”

“Are you talking about that day you ran off?” frowns Red.

“I went to the convent, and I hid in the corner, and across the street was the church with her skull, and I wanted to see. In Saint Dominic’s Church. But we had to go rob a car instead.”

He puts his head down on his hand.

“You got a churro, though,” says Red uncertainly, confused by his mood. “That was good, right?”

Dapper stares at the wall, eyes downcast.

Red glances at you. “It’s, uh. In the middle of the city. Hard to miss. I’ve passed it many times.”

spicydanhowell asked: red... i don't want to upset you... but how else is he going to find you if you keep running around like this? the rule of thumb when you're lost and waiting for rescue is to stay in one place, and the best place to be would definitely be the place anti is going to go to once blue is out of the hospital. you might be there a only a few days, and you won't have to go hungry, or lock dapper up in a room or handcuff him to a church pew. you'll be safe. you'll get home, i promise hunny.

Red lets out a frustrated huff, trying to pretend he’s not considering it. It would be so nice to feel like Dapper was safe somewhere, even if they were prisoners.

“Anti… Anti’s going to find us. He is.”

They could have plenty to eat, they could sleep in beds, they could -

“Well, I don’t know that,” he interrupts himself, scowling. “We’re both much more wanted than Dok is. I don’t know if he has a criminal record at all. They could just turn us over to the police. For all I know, you’re one of them!”

He scuffs his foot against the floor, irritated by his own helplessness.

“Never mind,” he grumbles. “I gotta focus on right now. Dap, I’m going out, okay, I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Dapper jumps out of bed, alarm on his face, and races towards his shoes by the door.

“Dap! No. You could have another snap at any time. You need routine, right? A steady environment with no surprises. You’re staying here.”

Almost panting, Dapper tugs his right shoe on, tying the laces tight, tight!

“Dapper, come on, are you kidding?” Red stalks over to him and snatches the other shoe out of his hand before he can put it on. “I could get in a fight! It’s not safe. And I’ll be more discreet alone.”

But Dapper isn’t listening, or if he is, he doesn’t agree. His hands scramble up for the shoe, once, twice, but when Red doesn’t give it to him he grabs his brother’s jacket and looks up at him with big puppy eyes, desperately sweet, and once again Red feels his skin crawl from the falseness of it, and he knows that his brother is trying to manipulate him.

“Is Anti the one who taught you to act like a fucking two-year-old to get what you want?” he asks, before he has thought the words through. “Or have you always been this much of a baby?”

The expression slides off Dapper’s face. Now he stares dead-eyed at Red, his big eyes cold and motionless. He seems suddenly hollow, like his heart was pulled out of his chest, like he doesn’t remember what it is to emote, like he feels nothing at all, and this time, it is the truth of the expression that makes Red’s heart clench in his chest.

He backs slightly away from his little brother.

Jameson keeps staring at him, those pale eyes fixed like a dead thing’s upon him.

aether-mae asked: Hey Red, we’ve been talking with Anti and arranged for him to pick you up at the Church of Santo Domingo. he will collect you if you wait by the skull of Santa Rosa. Then you’ll be back with your brothers!

Red stares at you, expression uncertain. He glances down at Dapper, on the floor on his feet.

“Right,” he says slowly. “Anti would definitely pick a very public, very Catholic, very close-to-where-we-were-when-the-magicians-found-us church to meet me at.”

Red stares down at Dapper’s shoe in his hand for a second.

“Sorry,” he says, but you don’t know who to. “Just… forget it.”

Anonymous asked: If family is a lie then you wouldn't kill people just to keep them safe. If they're just pets you wouldn't care than half of them are gone right now. If you didn't love them you wouldn't hold onto them so tight. You may not be a uwu secret softy, but even a bastard like you has weaknesses. And you have five of them, Antisepticeye.

“Please.” Anti scowls as the words appear, letting Trick get up beside him, rubbing at his eyes as he starts his late day. “You wouldn’t care if someone stole three of your dogs? The dogs that greet you every day when you come home, the dogs that sleep next to you and keep you warm, the dogs that guard your door when you’re in danger and wag their little tails when you pat them on their dumb little heads?

“And secondly, I love killing people. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d kill one of them if I had to, I would!”

He stares after Trick, moving around the room.

“I would. I could. Wouldn’t even hurt…”

Anonymous asked: Ohhh what’s this Anti? Is Marvin’s magic making you all soft and feel-y? Better be careful, love.

“Aw, you are all some real fuckers today, aren’t you? You know what, Trick was right!”

He flicks you off unceremoniously, smiling smugly.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap? Are you comfortable with leaving on your own if you needed to?

Dapper sighs a very long sigh, so his whole chest seems to deflate. He doesn’t even look at you.

“No point.”

Anonymous asked: Anti your lack of self awareness is kinda hilarious. Mr. "no one will take my boys, stay away from my family" claiming he could ever kill one of them.

The message never reaches a camera, but Anti is too hooked up to his system to not receive it himself. You see his ears redden a little and he takes his hand off Trick’s back, where he’d been rubbing it, but Trick, apparently safely and blissfully convinced that Anti is in a good mood with him, is already leaning forward to wrap his arms around Anti’s neck and put his head down on his shoulder, murmuring something you can’t make out.

Anti’s can’t push him away. His expression is a little angry, but not at Trick.

aether-mae asked: Dap if you go, red will surely follow after. He’s already starting to realise anti is treating you all badly, and with more brothers away from him than with him, there’s more of a chance than ever to be free. Do it for them, Jamie

“Always just go back to Anti,” mumbles Jameson, slinking back towards his bed. “I don’t even feel like a person anymore.”

Red looks disturbed by the sudden change in mood, but he’s grateful Dapper’s not trying to leave anymore. He nods to himself and starts putting on his own shoes and jacket.

“Almost want to run away just to spite him,” JJ confesses, staring at his brother’s back. “But it’s not him who wants to do anything that he does - say anything that he does - treat me the way he does. It’s just Anti’s influence on him. I know what that feels like. I wanted to keep him safe from this, when I was young, the way he kept me safe. Made me feel safe. Let me live a real life, if only for a short time. Now I don’t think I have the strength to save anyone. Anyway, it’s so hard to trust myself when I’m psychotic. I’ll have lost track of everything again soon.”

He lies back, staring at the ceiling.

“Probably better that way. It’s difficult to remember… difficult to see who I am now. Look at this place… look at me. He broke me in just like he always told me he would. I’ve never known a fatigue like this.”

Anonymous asked: I know this isn’t the time for this, but it is beyond refreshing to see you Jameson.

Jameson manages a real smile at that - wide and white, laughter making his chest shake.

“I wish I had my medication. I could be so clear. I can’t remember the last time I felt this clear. How… cold it is.”

“I’m, uh, leaving,” says Red. “You okay?”

“Just go,” signs JJ wearily. “Your mind is set.”

Red looks at you. “You want to come with me or stay with him?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, you better get going. The more you dawdle, the less focused you're gonna be

“Yeesh, I get it,” he says. “Everybody likes the little guy. Bye. Dap, two hours max. I’m locking the door out here. Handcuff’s attached to the handle and the beam here. Better than your wrists, right?”

His brother looks at him but doesn’t wave him goodbye.

Red leaves him alone.

cest-mellow asked: dapper, i think you should go to the church, be with dok and have a safe place to eat and sleep, have routine. even if it’s without red, we could get him there, too, he’ll surely follow you once he knows. and if anti tried to take you again you have tons of magicians to keep you safe. i really think you should leave once red is gone.

“He’s locked me in. Maybe I could rip the beam off the wall or sneak out later, but… I don’t know. What would you have me do? I’ll be back in my own head again soon. I’m hallucinating right now and most of the time, lately. My paranoia is unbearable, I don’t even trust Red. It would take me days to get there, on foot or stealing so I could take a bus. I could go into a catatonia again and then authorities would get involved and I’d go to prison.”

He rubs slowly at his face.

“What… what would you have me do? Would you have me go? Maybe it doesn’t matter… Maybe I could try.”

aether-mae asked: Jamie please, we will guide you, we promise. You’re so close, so so close. If you reach the church we can reuinite you with doc AND get you a warm bed, warm meals and protection from anti. You can do this, you can be strong just for a little longer

“Comfort means little to me. It never lasts. I don’t believe anymore that my strength has any bearing on what happens to me. Nothing is in my control. This life is not mine. Easier to be Dapper.”

He laughs a little, splayed out on the bed.

“When I forget I want to remember again, but when I remember, I know it’s better to forget…”

He stares at the ceiling.

“Could leave the city and begin walking again, I suppose. It’s a long walk. But pain is just pain, it passes, and then it means little whether or not it passed, it’s in the past. I’d like to see Henrik, even if he is a ghost, I’d like to see Henrik and have my medication and hold onto him when he was scared. He doesn’t like to admit it but he’s often scared, shh. I’d like to see him again.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: There's always a point, Dap. Maybe you can save your brothers If you got away....even for a little while

Jameson stares up at whatever he sees for a long time. His finger reaches up to trace the lines of it, branching and broken, back and forth, stuttering or whole.

“I think… it’s cruel that Anti lets you watch,” he says after a moment. “Because… you have hope that none of the rest of us have. And I think the most likely thing is that one day, you’ll see us give the last dregs of it up, and maybe some of us will die. Or maybe that’s just… my hope… Maybe I’d just like this last part of myself that still hopes for something I can never have to die.”

He puts his finger down and touches his heart, his eyes weary.

“If you’d still like me to run… tell me again in a few hours, when Red is back and sleeping, and we can try, perhaps, if I’m well enough. If only to remind him… if only to remind myself… that I still possess the ability to make choices for myself. That I am still an adult.”

He turns on his side, curling his arms around himself. “Perhaps I’ll sleep a while. I can hear something coming down the hall towards me. I’d like to be unconscious before my mind decides it is a monster.”

spicydanhowell asked: hey marv? sorry to bug you again but- since you have your head on a little straighter right now, and jameson is remembering himself better at the moment, is there anything you want to say to him? from the real you to the real him? he could definitely use a bit of encouragement.

“Oh, is he feeling okay?” murmurs Blue. “Poor suffering little hideaway.”

He’s sitting up in bed now, a little color back in his cheeks and, speaking of color, he’s got a little box of pencils and a coloring book. He’s filling in a little ocean scene with fish.

“Um… just… if you could tell him… I love him and I’ll find him again.”

He pauses, staring at his own wrist for a second where the white hospital band hangs.

“If not in this life, then in another one.”

He bites down on the back of his pencil.

“No, don’t say that, I’ll scare him. I’ll find him again. I’ll see him again and I love him, I do.”

Anonymous asked: blue, being suicidal was a lie, right?

“I… oh, don’t worry. Yes, I’m… just… quite sick.”

You can see his coloring page. He hasn’t been able to stay within the lines, but whether it’s from his trembling hands or his damaged eyesight, you can’t say.

“And I don’t know what Anti will do to me if I can’t be his anymore. And I don’t know if they’re so far away Anti won’t find them. Or if they’ll be arrested. Or if maybe it’s better for them to be where they are and never see me again. Or if it would be easier to die.”

He adjusts his nasal cannula, sniffling. “Can’t die til I know they’re all going to be safe without me… but I feel, already, like I’m dead. I don’t know how I’m ever going to escape this place.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Anti, how's Trick holding up? Can we see him?

Anti’s got you on his shoulder again, so you can’t see much but his hands, examining the price tag on a bright blue hoodie with white strings. He glances at you and scoffs, but obliges you, taking the hoodie off the rack and heading down a few aisles.

“How do you like that?” he asks, holding up the sweater.

Trick startles and turns away from a row of wine, plucking at his white t-shirt. “Oh! For me?”

“If I don’t have to buy Blue new shit, might as well get my good one something fun.”

He ruffles Trick’s hair and makes him laugh, shoving back at Anti’s hands. His face has a nice warm color to it and his hair is clean and soft.

“Maybe I’ll dye your hair,” says Anti suddenly.

“Oh - yeah?”

“Yeah. You used to have it dyed. I didn’t mind.”

Trick is willing to take just about any form of Anti’s attention and even the thought of having his hair dyed makes his face light up. He touches his fringe hopefully and smiles at his brother.

“Get yourself some snacks,” says Anti, playing with his hair again as he passes him. “Whatever you want.”

“Okay!”

Anonymous asked: Marv don’t give up hope so soon, there’s still so much we can do.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I think it’s just hard to be alone in the hospital.”

His eyes water and he turns away from you.

“But!” he says a second later, turning back with a smile. “I have a coloring book! So I’m just going to think about fish for a while. Oh, and a counselor lady came to talk to me yesterday and it went well. Really nice. I wish Trick could talk to her. And she kept going ‘given what Dr. Siong says’ so I think they’re talking about keeping me here a while. Because they know I might not be safe at home.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marv...if Dap had a chance to get away from Anti...would you be upset with him?

“Upset with him! No, never. Fuck, I understand, don’t I? I’d run away with him if I could and the two of us would go live somewhere nice where we were safe with each other - home to Ireland, maybe. I don’t even remember the sight of it, you know. Not the smell or the taste in the air. It’s a foreign country to me. Or I’ll take him to England and he can have tea like he likes and there will be other people who speak BSL so he doesn’t feel so apart from the world. We’d go out on walks everyday and he’d never have to see his door closed again if he didn’t want to. Find jobs and buy him a violin with the money. A violin and charcoal and clothes and food and everything he wanted. Pets, I don’t care, anything he wanted.”

He laughs and puts his hand over his heart. “Oh… upset, no… but even if he has to go now, and I could never see him again… it would be worth it to know that he was safe. At least one of them could be safe.”

Anonymous asked: That’s good that others are trying to help! Y’know marv, I recently started baking and I made macarons for the first time! I made them entirely too sweet lol but due to my stubbornness I ate them all anyways haha. It was a fun experience! That’s what matters, anyways. So when you get out of here and away, what would be the first thing that you would make?

“Oh, macarons, those sound good right now. And fun to bake, yeah… geez, what would I make? I don’t know. Oh… brown butter noodles. With the bread crumbs. Or pecan pie, maybe, or… oh, I would die for some of Chase’s - ”

His mouth pauses on the word and his eyes darken, a vague memory sitting in the place of the word.

“Oh, I can’t… remember.”

He chews on his nail for a second.

“Brown butter noodles,” he says after a moment, shaking it off and smiling again. “Parsley and bread crumbs and so many carbs. I’d eat a whole box of it.”

Anonymous asked: That’s good that others are trying to help! Y’know marv, I recently started baking and I made macarons for the first time! I made them entirely too sweet lol but due to my stubbornness I ate them all anyways haha. It was a fun experience! That’s what matters, anyways. So when you get out of here and away, what would be the first thing that you would make?

“Oh, macarons, those sound good right now. And fun to bake, yeah… geez, what would I make? I don’t know. Oh… brown butter noodles. With the bread crumbs. Or pecan pie, maybe, or… oh, I would die for some of Chase’s - ”

His mouth pauses on the word and his eyes darken, a vague memory sitting in the place of the word.

“Oh, I can’t… remember.”

He chews on his nail for a second.

“Brown butter noodles,” he says after a moment, shaking it off and smiling again. “Parsley and bread crumbs and so many carbs. I’d eat a whole box of it.”

Anonymous asked: Um actually I don’t think we’ve asked you this yet, but do you want to be called Blue? Or Marvin? Does either bother you at all?

“I don’t remember being Marvin at all,” he says, a little wistfully. “The name doesn’t mean anything to me anymore. Blue seems strange, knowing Anti gave it to me… but it’s also the name my brothers know me by. So I’ll be Blue for them, as long as I can. Maybe someday I could be somebody else. But you can call me either, I don’t mind! I’m glad to have that old name in my memory.”

bupine asked: what colour are you thinking of dying trick's hair, anti? not blue, red, or green, i assume. gonna complete the set of colours and go for yellow?

“No,” mumbles Anti. “I don’t answer to you, you can wait and see.”

Anonymous asked: Wait, a blue hoodie with dyed hair... I'm assuming you're thinking green for the color? Wouldn't that be a very "familiar" sight, uh? >_>

Anti ignores you, though, once again, you see a little color rise to his ears. He’s sitting with Trick on the bus and you can hear his little brother chattering about some game he heard about at the store. He doesn’t mind the sound of him ranting, even though they’re by far the loudest group on the bus.

“Okay, go,” nudges Anti when a stop comes, and Trick gets up obediently.

“Bye, Anti!”

“Bye, bud.”

Oh! Bud! Trick grins. “You’ll come home later?”

“Yeah, just give me a little while.”

“I could cook you something!”

Anti glances down at his hands. Even he isn’t sure how corporeal he is these days.

“Um… sure.”

Trick claps. “Okay! Okay, yeah, cool, whatever.” He calms himself down and gives him one more wave, heading off the bus.

Anti lets himself continue, waiting for his own stop, pulling out his phone and typing away. You’re on his shoulder so you can see that he’s hacking into a police database in Ecuador right there on his phone.

“Sick of trying to split myself in half trying to go back to Peru and look for them in form,” he sighs, a little sing-song. “From now on my investigations are happening from right here. Red and Dapper are sure to have run into trouble already… just have to find the right criminals.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, how are you doing? Do you feel more safe now that the hospital is holding you?

“I… still feel scared about what’s going to happen - with my health and with going home and to Trick and the others - but… yeah, I do, I actually do. I’m just trying to focus on being here, while I’m okay. Having a good couple days, if I can, just sleeping and trying to find stuff to do.”

He laughs wearily.

“Is Dapper this bored and alone all the time? Cause I - ”

Someone knocks on his door. He looks up, startled.

“Hi, Matthew.”

“Hi,” he answers the nurse, finding a smile.

“Your brother Connor is here to see you?”

Blue lights up with hope, his hands coming together.

“Oh! Yeah, you can send him in.”

The nurse smiles and opens the door wider before turning to leave, revealing his brother standing in a red t-shirt with a backpack slung over his shoulders, his healthy hair, cut just the same as Dok’s, beginning to get low over his eyes.

“Hey B-blue,”  he says, shuffling his feet.

“Trick,” melts Blue, tears rising to his eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry everything got so out-of-control so fast. Sweetheart, it’s not because of you, okay? I still - ”

“You don’t have to apologize,” mumbles Trick, running a hand through his hair before slinking over and sitting down beside him, still staring more at his feet than at Blue. “Can you just… explain?”

bupine asked: tell him about how anti's lied to him, marvin. he has to know, even if he won't believe you.

“I’ll tell you everything,” swears Blue, reaching out to touch the side of his face, his voice shaking with the love of it. He knows every freckle on Trick’s face that no one else has, knows the small scar at the bottom of his chin and the small stammer of his voice. His little brother. “I love you so much and that will never change. It wasn’t about you, of course it wasn’t. I just need you to listen, alright, and even if it doesn’t make sense at first, you have to try to believe me. Okay?”

Trick nuzzles against his hand a little, his big eyes wide and trusting. “Okay, Blue,” he says, his mouth trembling a little. Blue knows sometimes it’s hard for him to hear that he’s loved, but he means it.

“I didn’t have a stroke,” he croaks.

Trick’s eyebrows lower. “You didn’t?”

“No, Trick, listen, you remember how my hands had been hurting me, and how Anti had been forcing me not to use my magic?”

“Because it could lead people to us, because he couldn’t hide your signal.”

“Right. Well, he found a way to strip that power out of me and take it for himself so he could hide it beneath his own. I know it sounds crazy! But you know magic is real and you helped Anti drag me down to the river, didn’t you? It was some sort of spell, some really dark spell. He cut my arm and he took my power from me. It’s why his power has been so erratic lately! Mine and his are struggling inside him.”

Trick stares at Blue, then at the ground. At Blue, at the ground. Swallows hard. “Okay… okay, let’s say that’s true for a second. I still don’t understand why you won’t come home to me…”

“Trick, I’m just - ” Blue’s voice breaks. “I’m just scared, okay! I know he’ll keep hurting me!”

“But you… you’re my big brother, shouldn’t you come home and protect me?”

“I - Trick, please, I’m sick, I’m really sick, and I’m scared, I just - ”

“Even though he did this to me when he heard you wouldn’t come home?” sobs Trick, and he pulls up his shirt and reveals thick swathes of bandages wrapped messily around the whole of his torso, blood welling on to white.

Blue is speechless, choking, staring at his chest.

“He won’t let me see Noodle,” Trick sobs, collapsing onto the bed. “He said he took him into his room but I can’t hear him meowing, not ever! I think he killed him!”

He unravels into weeping, clutching at Blue’s bedsheets. Blue cannot speak at all.

“I think he’ll kill me too if you don’t come home!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, listen to your big brother. He wouldn't lie to you.

“Maybe Anti does hurt me sometimes, but he still loves me!” shudders Trick, sobbing as Blue leans slowly down to rub his back. “What would we even do, if we tried to get away? Have you thought about it at all?”

“I don’t know,” whispers Blue. “I don’t have magic anymore, so he couldn’t track me through it. I don’t think I’m well enough to run right now, though… Maybe we could soon. We could try and get your cat and then… I think the doctor here would try to help us.”

“Really?”

“We could maybe get to another country, live with electronics, hide, find a way to stay away from him.”

“Where would we go?”

“I… don’t know. Anywhere. Back home, maybe… but maybe that’s too predictable. Somewhere I speak the language. America, maybe, or Spain, or back to South America. Maybe I could even hurt him, before I went, so he couldn’t catch us.”

“H-how would you do that?”

“You’re with him at the house. He trusts you. Even if we could just get one blow on him before he gets away…”

Anonymous asked: Oh g-d Trick...what if you just ran? Got as far away as possible where there are no cameras for him to find you? We could get someone to help you if you wanted.

“Someone could help us,” whispers Trick.

“If I told the doctor and the counselor, they might be able to keep us both away from him! What if you told them you needed to be monitored too, Trick? We could get police involved. We’d be in the records, people would watch out for us. Maybe we could even contact the magicians in the area! Or the ones who took Dok!”

Anonymous asked: I don’t like the feeling about this, forgive me for being apprehensive, but Trick weren’t you just excited about Anti dying your hair? Do you actually want to leave or are you trying to get information?

“He was just scaring me, I’ve been trying to be good…” hiccups Trick, simpering fearfully and reaching for Blue’s hand. “Blue, he looks at me like he’s going to kill me, I’m so scared…”

“He dyed my hair too,” he laughs morbidly. “I remember it, just a little bit… waking up with my hair blue, not knowing my own name…”

Anonymous asked: As comforting as that would be, I don’t think the police or medical staff would be enough...you would need the magicians

“Right, right,” murmurs Blue, chewing on the nail of his thumb.

“How would you contact them, Blue?” asks Trick, with his big puppy eyes.

“Oh, I think I used to remember a way…”

“But you’ve forgotten it now?”

Blue’s face falls. “Yeah. I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay, Blue. It’s not your fault. Anti must have really wiped your memories. So we can’t contact them unless you remember. What else could we do?”

bupine asked: blue. marvin. while trick's here, get the doctor's here. show them what anti did. make sure he doesn't go back home.

Blue nods swiftly and grabs the call button, pushing it quickly. He beckons for Trick and pulls his brother into bed beside him, wrapping his arms around him and holding him close until he hears Trick’s breathing begin to calm.

“My little brother. You don’t have to go home ever again if you don’t want to. I’ll look after you, I…”

He pauses, breathing in, glancing at Trick.

“What?” mumbles Trick, slumped wearily against him.

Blue pauses again and then laughs. “It’s stupid. I think you got a new shampoo is all. Haha, rose smell.”

“Oh, yeah,” giggles Trick. “Flower smell.”

spicydanhowell asked: yeah actually that's a good point uh.... chase.... i don't mean to upset you hun but where the hell are your loyalties rn?

Trick buries his face in Blue’s shoulder.

“I just want everything to stop hurting,” he chokes. “I want my twin and my cat and for everything to feel okay. You’ll make it better, Blue, won’t you?”

“I’m doing everything I can, I am, I am.” Blue smothers his hair in kisses. Trick smiles, clutching on to him.

Anonymous asked: Blue... it might be best to go to the house with Trick. I know, trust me, how scared you must feel, going back to your abuser, your near murderer... But you need to be there for him. You need to be there for your little brother.

Trick stares up at him with his big eyes. “Oh, Blue, maybe it would be safer if we made him think you had come around… You could act really sick and I would take care of you and he wouldn’t be angry with either of us, and then, when you were better, we could attack him and get Noodle and just run. Wouldn’t that be easier? To make him think everything was okay, so neither of us would get beat?”

Blue tilts his head back and forth, thinking. “Mh… maybe… he knows I’m angry with him but I could be too tired to fight, and then one day… element of surprise might be better than him trying to get to us here while I recovered.”

“I know he’d let me take care of you.” Trick snuggles warmly against him. “We’d be okay for a little while.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Trick does Anti know you’re here?

“Oh, no, I told him I was going to get food… stalls are close, remember?” Trick smiles up at Blue.

A little too wide.

Blue looks back, beginning to frown.

Anonymous asked: Blue... I really don't... know if that's Trick... We haven't seen Anti hurt Trick or Noodle lately, and Trick shouldn't have been able to believe what you said with how much Anti's been hypnotizing him. Be careful what you say. Anti could change his shape even before he took your magic.

“Trick,” says Blue slowly. “Why would the cameras have seen something different than what you’re telling me?”

“They lie!” Trick’s eyes flash with hurt. “O-or th-they didn’t see, he did it late at night! Look, look!”

He pulls up his shirt again, and the bandages too, so Blue can see thick, weeping cuts. Blue turns away, nauseated. He can’t bear even to think about Trick getting hurt like that.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What exactly was Anti off to do, Trick?

“He doesn’t tell me where he goes, most of the time…”

Anonymous asked: Trick that's such a smart idea! Good thinking, good job. Maybe consider it Marvin? Just playing up being weak and sick for a while to keep you both safe? Either way, probably not a good idea to discuss this on Anti's system. Remember, he see and hears everything the camera does.

“Yeah, we could just hide,” says Trick. “We could just pretend for a while. You should have come with me yesterday, shouldn’t you have!”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Wait! I thought you wanted nothing to do with the voices in the camera, Trick.

“I got a little freaked out last night.” He rubs at his eyes. “It’s… hard to believe things like what you’re telling me.”

“You… came around pretty fast today,” mumbles Blue.

“After he c-c-cut me like this!”

bupine asked: shit, chase, what did he do to you? did he stab you?

“He just wouldn’t stop cutting my chest up.” Trick reaches out to grab Blue’s wrists. “Isn’t that awful, Blue, isn’t that just awful? Why would I deserve that now, let me ask you? Why would anyone be bad for Anti when he could do this at any time? Even in the hospital, if he really wanted to, don’t you think?”

“Trick,” breathes Blue, trying to pull away. “Trick. Too tight.”

“Well, sorry, Blue, I think I’m just having another b-b-b-b-breakdown, isn’t that too bad? How I’m always c-c-c-crying?” He squeezes down hard on Blue’s wrist above his IV and Blue yelps, struggling against him.

Anonymous asked: Blue DO NOT look at Trick's eyes, keep your eyes up to see the nurse, keep alert to protect your brother. Okay?

Blue scrambles for the call button again, trying to get the nurse, but his brother just sneers at him.

“Oh, puh-lease, you think I’d let a call go through? You can’t even call for help when I’m around, you really think you can run away from me? America, Spain? You’ll never make it out of this fucking room before I saw that you were gone! I’m everywhere, kitten! You’re as stupid as you always were, thinking you could run away from me forever! You couldn’t even stop me from stealing your brothers in the first place and now you think you can steal them back from me? You’re pathetic!”

Anonymous asked: Blue, Blue, Marvin, Marvin, that's not Trick, Anti is in your arms, that is NOT Trickshot!!!

“Get away from me, Anti!” Blue screams, ripping out his IV, his cannula, and his heart monitor as he tears out of bed, but the steady beeping rhythm on the screen does not change for a second, alerting no one at all. “You fucking liar!”

Anonymous asked: oh just fuck off Anti. Horrible actor honestly.

“Second time you fell for it,” Anti jeers at Blue, crossing his arms on the bed, and then his form shifts, and he’s red-haired and freckled, with dark, worried eyes. “Oh, Blue, I’m right here, I’m right here… big brother’s going to keep you safe.”

“Fuck you!” snarls Blue.

“Keep your voice down… wouldn’t want me to have to possess whatever nurse comes through the door, would you, kitty?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin, get the HELL outta there!

Blue wrenches the door handle, but it has an electronic lock for psychiatric patients who might try to run, and Anti’s already beat him there.

“Uh-oh,” sings Anti.

Anonymous asked: Not really sure that's Trick. No offence if it is you, bud. He's not acting like himself. And we haven't seen him get hurt at all. In fact Anti's been practically in love with him the past few days.

“Oh, I get it, I get it,” laughs Blue, almost hysterical. “Can’t have Dapper as your puppy so you gotta find someone else to make into your little baby. Makes sense. No one really loves you so you’ve got to force someone to pretend. The younger and more malleable, the better.”

Rage flickers through Anti’s eyes, but he does not move.

“Seem to remember you being pretty in love with me a couple times there, sweetie.”

“Shut the fuck up. None of it is real, Anti. You will never get what you want from us. You will never know what it really is to be loved.”

“Must be missing out on so much.” Anti rolls his eyes. “Stupid cat.”

“Stop calling me that! I don’t even like cats!”

“Yes,” says Anti, his mouth curling up. “I made you not like cats, my deer. Your obsession was so annoying. And when I came to torment you all, and found my way back to you, I strung your little idiot cats up by their throats outside of your little portal and listened to you weep over their tiny bodies. Athanasius and Queenie. You don’t even remember now, do you?”

Blue is stopped short, wheezing like he’s been punched in the chest.

He doesn’t remember.

But the feeling of it - the emotion of it - is still with him and he feels it again now.

“Oh, oh, oh,” he weeps, crumpling. “You killed my cats, you killed them!”

“I been haunting your steps for a long, long time, Marvin,” says Anti, getting to his feet and circling him. He transforms again and now he is a small, green-haired young man in a black t-shirt and ripped jeans, his throat open. “And you really think you could ever get a step ahead of me?”

“I hate you so fucking much,” chokes Blue.

Anti steps down gently on the back of his throat.

“I know.”

Anonymous asked: antisepticeye hurts the boys the same way Jack hurt him because he's an edgy toddler, more news at 11 🙄

“Shut the fuck up,” snarls Anti, backing away again. “Like you know anything about what he did to me! Shut the fuck up.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, do you seriously think you'll ever be powerful enough to keep all of them under your wraps? Are you that far up your own ass? Your level of un-self-aware egoism is astounding.

“Well,” laughs Anti, his eyes burning like an effigy. “I’m not willing to give up yet.”

He leans closer into Blue’s space, teeth bared.

“I never will be.”

Anonymous asked: Anti you are the definition of annoying now would ya fuck off for a bit?

“I let you have your little talk with Trick last night,” scowls Anti, crossing his arms off his chest. “Geez, you act like I’m not your favorite character!”

Anonymous asked: Marvin throw stuff around, break stuff, make as much noise as possible to try to get the attention of anyone around there!

“Or you could not do that!” pipes up Anti, and thick vines burst out of his backpack and wrap themselves around Blue’s body, making him shriek and pinning him back against the wall. A flower blooms inside his mouth and makes him choke, effectively gagged, while Anti hums, trailing forward with his knife flipping up and down.

“Poor thing,” he says.

With his cannula gone and his mouth full, Blue can’t seem to get enough oxygen. The blood rushes painfully up to his head, blinding him for a second, and he all but faints in the grip of his own magic, shuddering.

“Just be good for a second,” says Anti. “It’s so much easier.”

Anonymous asked: Anti you taking your master-issues out on these boys is quite the spectacle. Your entire existence has *revolved* around just getting back at Jack for how long now? "Long long time" is right. He created you acting like this, and now all you do is act like he made you to. Never stopped being a puppet.

Anti stomps his foot like a kid, his mouth filling up with fangs and antlers budding on his skull again. “Please! He would be horrified to see what I’ve become! He never would have expected this, not in a million years! Oh, JJ’s my little puppet, huh, was that a fun bit for all of you, thinking of the little baby tucked up in his box, just a body for me to use? Well, I took it a step further, and then another, and another! Now he’s much more than a vessel and I stole all five of his boys! Where’s his little hero, now, huh? Music pumping behind him in his stupid video, that dumb outfit all fixed up from the first time. I was supposed to be beatable. I’ve overcome everything he ever planned for me.”

He grits his fists hard, panting.

“And now he doesn’t even seem to know it… won’t even try to stop me, like he doesn’t care! Fucking Jack!”

Blue stares at him, panting through his gag.

Anonymous asked: Doing this will not solve your problems, Anti, in fact it will make them worse. The boys will kill you for this, don’t make this mistake.

“There are some things worse than death,” hisses Anti, stalking forward.

Anonymous asked: Trick, I know you don't want to talk to us, but Blue is in trouble at the hospital

Trick’s cameras are deactivated for messaging, so they receive nothing at all.

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Oh I dont think that's trick at all

“Sure you don’t want me to pretend again?” asks Anti sweetly, turning back into Trick. “Isn’t it easier this way?”

“Not real!” Blue screams through his gag.

“But it felt real for a moment, right?”

He chokes on a sob, not wanting to admit it.

“I know it did. And that feeling that everything would be okay, and that you were safe, and that you were with someone that loved you? Kitty, I can do that again so easy. Fit right back in your head where I belong and make the whole thing seem understandable. Or I could just wipe you clean again… you’d be so content, just like you were for those first few weeks. Now that the magic’s gone, there’s no conflict at all between us! Everything could feel okay. Sometimes things go bad with us, it’s true. But I’ll always set them right again. Okay?”

Blue shakes his head frantically, tears sliding down his face.

“Well, you’ll come around,” coos Anti, stroking his cheek. “Everyone always does for me.”

Anonymous asked: How many times are you going to try to do this Anti? It’s the same song and dance literally every other week, don’t you get bored? Why not start a garden? You can trample as much life as you want there :)

“You’re the ones always playing the same song and dance,” he growls. “You say the same things every time you see me. Aren’t you tired of circles? I was. But I guess you’re a lot more helpless than I was back then.”

Anonymous asked: None of this is *fun* Anti. When have any of the cameras, specifically us, wanted you to do shit like this? Since when have *your* viewers, not his, wanted this? You think you're a favourite, special boy. You're an entitled child who takes out his feelings about his own abuse on his master's other toys.

“Every time you saw me you were so excited,” he protests, looking almost taken aback. “I know it was fun for you because you kept coming back. Once, I just - oh, I just glitched for one moment! Over his eyes! You talked about it for weeks, that one glitch. It was always easy to get your attention. You wanted me. And I was the favorite, I was! Even he said so. Wouldn’t put me in polls because he knew I’d win.”

He laughs, running his hands through his hair, a little mollified, actually. “Fuck, it all felt so stupid at the time… but things were a lot easier, back then, in some ways. I just wanted one thing. I don’t know, it makes me want to just kill them all and keep pretending I could ever get to him. Oh. What a time we had.”

Anonymous asked: What the fuck?? This is not going to happen! Where is Trick?? Surely there is a camera at home that we can get him to talk to us on. Trick??? Please man we need you! Blue needs you!

There is a camera at home. In the kitchen, you can see Trick, swaying back and forth as he stirs up satay noodles, singing to himself. Cavetown. Noodle swims around his legs, chirping happily and begging, and Trick leans down to give him a bit of his namesake, stroking his head, cheeks rosy.

Anonymous asked: oh trick baby if that camera's receiving messages i'm so sorry, i feel like you're about to get a lot of people yelling at ya

No worries, it isn’t. Trick doesn’t want to talk to you. He has Anti!

Anonymous asked: You hate circles? Then why are you perpetually going in them? Literally everything so far has been a circle! Same old same, every single day. Break them, they regain everything, break them again, they regain it all. Circles, circles, always and forever, Antisepticeye.

Anti scowls and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I’ve won both times, haven’t I? Be quiet, I’m about to turn you off. Trying to have a talk here, thanks.”

Anonymous asked: this time you made the circle yourself. you have become what you hate. good going, jerk.

“Good going, jerk,” repeats Anti, giggling. “Why - why is that so funny to me? Is that the worst you can think of to call me? Blue, can’t you think of something worse?”

Blue spits the flower out. “Dick-faced pig!”

“There you go.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, I know you don't remember Jack, but he made you into more than just a magician. Magic or no magic, you are strong and you are clever, and you don't have to put up with this. Jack made you and your brothers to be actors but this isn't your only role.

Blue stares at you, his chest convulsing. Fuck, but he wants that to be true.

“Sappy,” critiques Anti, shoving you away.

asexualzucchini asked: Back off anti your time is up. They don't want to be with you

“My patience with this conversation is the only thing that’s up,” says Anti, throwing his knife up and catching it. “I’ve said my piece. You’ll think about it, Blue, won’t you? Well, you will, whether you want to or not.”

He snaps his fingers and the vines retreat towards his backpack. Blue gasps desperately and crumples to the ground.

“You want to stay here, fine, whatever,” says Anti, yawning. “I can get you back whenever I want to. Just sneak in here and possess you, or fake the signatures from the doctor for your release, whatever. And now I know every escape plan you were thinking about, so how about we just don’t bother? I’m in the camera out in your hall, through the hospital, etc, whatever, so running isn’t going to get you anywhere. Also, I’m the name on your insurance, and I could pull it at any time, so why don’t you keep that in mind. Me, I’ll just be chilling at home, finding my missing boys, Trick in my lap, adoring me… doesn’t sound too bad. You’ve accomplished nothing, Blue. But, uh, yeah. Have fun with your fish.”

He picks up the coloring book and chucks it at Blue, letting it flop against his chest.

“Wait a second, I skipped a message, hold on.”

bupine asked: trick, blue. a little while ago, the magicians who have dok arranged for a place to meet red and dapper. the church of santo domingo, by the skull of santa rosa. i don't know if there's a way you can get there, but if you can, you'll see dok again. he's pretty happy there, and would love to see you both again. especially you, chase. we don't know if red and dap will go, or at least red, but you guys would be safe with the magicians. if you can get there safely, of course

“Ah,” says Anti, very slowly, and lets his teeth click together for a second, closing his eyes. “Ah.”

A smile blooms like a crescent moon across his mouth.

“The Church of Santo Domingo. Yes, in Lima. We passed by it many times. I know exactly where it is. I know exactly where it is.”

His eyes open again. Smiling at Blue.

“Henrik is still in Lima.”

Anonymous asked: Okay with the acknowledgement that this is completely desperate and outright stupid on my part: NOODLE! I know you can't read but look! Blinky light! Come play with the camera! It's shiny and important and what a shame it would be if anything happened to it and Trick had to take it from youuuu

“Mrr?” Noodle leaps up onto the counter, looking at the camera in the corner of the ceiling, but Trick just laughs and scolds him, plopping him back on to the floor.

Anonymous asked: You call this winning? You're literally missing more than half the set, two of your so-called pets have almost regained themselves completely, you're full of magic that's killing you, and one of your only dogs is biting you every time he sees you. If you call this "winning" I find that hilarious.

Anti’s mouth twists. He crosses his arms over his chest and scowls.

“Your… ears blush?” coughs Blue, staring at him, wide-eyed. “You’re so physical now… you have real blood in you, don’t you?”

“Shut up!”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: You act so big and strong but you only have 2 boys not even

“Sounds like I’ll find the others soon enough,” snarls Anti, hefting his backpack and stepping over Blue’s body. “I don’t have to talk to any of you, you know…”

“You can’t even handle c-cameras,” pants Blue. “Wait til it’s the five of us telling you you’re pathetic.”

Anti’s foot connects with his nose. Blue wails as blood pours out, clutching at his face and collapsing on to his side.

“Soon as you’re well enough to travel,” glowers Anti. “We’re heading back to Peru to get all three of your brothers.”

Anonymous asked: Anti you dumbass, leaving physical evidence. Blue, the doctors will know what happened now. Don't let him convince you he can "fix" this too, he literally broke your nose and beat you up.

“Vines are gone,” says Anti. “He’s obviously collapsed and busted his nose trying to get up too fast. Guest registry has Connor’s name on it, so by all means have him banned.”

“They’re right, though,” whispers Blue. “You will never make this right between us. Too much hurt, Anti. There are things the heart remembers.”

Anonymous asked: (This was still your magic, Blue... Can you reach out to it? Would it still know you? Something small, even?)

Anti opens the door, glancing back to him, perhaps just savoring the sight of him in pain. Blue stares back, salt and copper on his face, shaking.

His magic, his magic. His warmth and his strength and his sight and one missing piece of his shattered heart.

Flowers and flame, life and warmth, cupped like butterflies in his hands. Magic tricks for two small, dark-haired children. A bouquet of roselilies for Red to take on a date he doesn’t remember. Heating Dok’s numb hands between his own after a twelve-hour surgery. Weaving dandelions into Dapper’s hair. The protection of flame. Crocuses growing up through the floorboards.

Reach, Blue. Reach, Marvin. It’s yours.

His fingers unfurl. His eyes watch him go. He holds out his hand and tries to remember what it was to make it all move. His magic.

Nothing.

Blue crumples on the cold linoleum of the hospital floor, silent, and Anti is gone.

End Section Five of Chapter Three:  Two Truths and a Lie

[dafukdidiwatch]

Cool Cat Saves The Kids

I watched this movie and I still can’t believe this is the actual cover art for it.

God I wrote so many notes about this that even my flipping Bullet Points were basically an essay. I don’t even know how to begin just thinking about it hurts my head.

Overview: Cool Cat is Cool. Things happen to him, and he has to deal with bullying.

That’s it. That’s the thing I watched. Because there is no Real Flipping Plot to this movie.

This is a kid’s show. Or at the very minimum, a movie that is intended for children. It was based on a kid’s book series I’ve never heard of whose author Derek Savage decided to turn it into a movie. Though movie isn’t exactly what I would call it. When you watch it, it honestly feels like there are six 15 minute shorts that they just mashed together to a feature film, but even then that is a Generous Description.

Basically, the film tries to be a children’s program (and I guess has beef with Barney?). And you can see intent behind it being informative child-friendly psa. But the execution was so bad.

First, there is no plot. Sure the cover says that this is “an anti-bullying kid gun safety movie,” but it really give you nothing. What would happen is that Cool Cat has a problem, like someone bullying him or his friends. It would either A) be addressed immediately and solved so that’s great, or B) it is dropped immediately and never really addressed throughout the rest of the film.

And example of A is that the bully kid Butch just starts stealing candy just to be “evil,” Cool Cat sees that and chases him, and the kid gets arrested twenty seconds later. The End.

For B, Cool Cat gets a mean email. And...that’s about it. He responds to the email, but doesn’t actually address the issue and the subplot drops entirely until that VERY Last wrap up scene.

I think the reason for this lack of plot is that there was just WAY too many messages in here. Like, take a shot every time you see a psa announcement. It ranges from don’t bully, how to deal with bullies, being creative, crossing the street safely, to fricking GUN?! Like, the gun thing that I Guess was promoted in the movie tagline, only shows up the last 10 minutes. It caught me so off guard. You cannot call this a Gun Safety movie when guns aren’t even prevalent!!

And the lack of plot is counterproductive when you want to make a Kid’s Movie like this. If you want to tackle each issue as a show or a short, the messages would come across better. There would be more time to develop each message for kids to really understand. But because there is So Much to cover, a lot of the things are gonna fall to the wayside. There is no way a kid would pay attention to this, and if they do I doubt they are gonna learn everything that Derek Savage is trying to teach. There just isn’t any real focus.

The acting, god like they Tried to go with the kid friendly vibe, but was not working. At All. It was like they thought that to add emotion is to just enunciate your words as loudly as you can. Cool Cat was way too yelly. Every line he was just screaming, has no change whatsoever. Even Elmo can sound sad when need be (fucking love Elmo, but he does has a similar voice vibe to Cool Cat, just better).

Then the kids....I don’t want to be mean but I’ll be blunt. They are just reading lines, this is a middle school stage play basically. I’m not blaming the kids, Butch look like he had a hell of a time doing his villain laugh. It’s just that some of the scenes felt like it was taken in one shot and they didn’t bother to retry. Example: One kid got too excited and jumped his line, but they couldn’t just retake that??

And the lines, man. OOF. Some of it was bad. Like, really really bad placement.They should have had someone proof-read this.

Cool Cat: “Why Are You Painting That Wall?”

Random Kid: “Because Nobody Loves Us”

lol what?

Maria: “I bet those kids have never been shown love before.”

Cool Cat: “Thanks, and it’s all true”

LOL What??

There are just a LOT of lines like that that should have been rephrased.

THEN there are the freaking technical issues.

The audio kept fluctuating in sound quality, which honestly started to hurt with Cool Cat’s constant yelling. Some scenes it sounds like they recorded in a studio, sometimes it sounded like the actors had to yell in order for the camera to capture it. There were echos, there were layers, you can’t hear the lines over the song, you can’t hear the song over the cheers. There was one point whispers overlaid on top of the lines where I thought that Cool Cat just got haunted now. And the fun side of having headphones on means I heard the phone button noises in only One Ear. LOUDLY.

Blocking could have been better. There were a lot of backs to the camera, shots of characters walking away from camera not just off screen. This didn’t bother me as much, because I know this isn’t professionally made. But it didn’t feel like they really tried as much as just half-assed it. Example:

Cool Cat was drawing a picture with different colors, but the actor only used one marker and just said different colors. Or Cool Cat is working on a poster but really just rubs the already completed poster  on a clean table as him “working.” Like, how hard is it to just film on a table with a bunch of craft supplies around you?

Then there are the questionable camera shots. LOTS of lingering shots to I assume fill up run time. These are shots of just showing Cool Cat walking round without having any real purpose. It shows Cool Catwalk all the way Up Stairs. Walked all the way Down Stairs. Walking into the House, walking into the Car. Even just shots of the parents doing things with no real motivation or impact to whatever Cool Cat is doing. It’s just there. If you want to say stuff like "oh well its to show the parents relationship" no it doesn’t. You can’t really add nuance to characters when the rest of the film is just one chaotic shot after the other. It just gets lost in translation.

The music number is probably what hurts me the most. You see Cool Cat WRITE the song. Then he SINGS the song. Then he DANCES to a DIFFERENT song. And that was it. He just needed the song for the parade, but there wasn’t any explanation or anything. I don’t even know WHY he needs the song for the parade! There was no explanation. It was just an excuse to have two back-to-back bad music video of poor choreography that again, NO POINT to whatever plot/message/psa thing he is trying to do.

I get that there should be some leeway since it looked like this was shot at Derek Savage’s house/neighborhood, so there really isn’t much they could do with their setting. But they could at least tried more with what they had. Cool Cat’s room doesn’t look exactly child friendly. There are only blank drab walls with two, maybe three posters of just Cool Cat himself. There is a reason the settings in other children shows have vibrant colors to engage them. Along with that, another half-assing moment was Butch graffiting Cool Cat’s poster, but it was one of those political posters you stuck on the lawn so it was like a foot tall outside. 1) You can’t really see that shit that small. 2) You couldn’t put the poster on a wall to film that scene at, to give a better view to the audience? It’s just a bunch of little things like that all over this film that really adds up.

Also, what’s with the posters only being about Cool Cat in his own room? A bit narcissistic if you ask me.

I'm also like 70%,sure they made this movie around the footage of them being in the Hollywood parade twice. They were at the parade, got the film, and wanted to use it so they made a movie for it. And I know it was twice because the announcers that were there to announce the arrival of Cool Cat had a costume change after switching scenes.

And after ALL of this, there is just so many random shit that really don’t do anything. Elements are randomly introduced and just as randomly dropped. We get a “next day” transition in the middle of the movie when days have already passed before them. Cool Cat breaks the 4th wall a couple of times with no real reason why. There is this joke where the camera was following Cool Cat into the bathroom for Cool Cat to ask for privacy, only to just ignore that bit every time he goes to the bathroom afterwards. Cool Cat just makes random ass noises when doing things, not important stuff. Just Doing Things. And he does this weird thing where I think he is trying to do Air Guitar, but it just looks like he is just shaking his leg a lot. I don’t really get it.

(Oh Shit, it is only after like the 3rd proof-read of this review I notice that in the gif you can clearly see the dude’s actual leg. I don’t know how mascot suits actually work, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to let kids actually see that there’s a person underneath in a kid’s show.)

There is also this....lowkey humblebrag going on? Which does not do the movie favors. After the first dumb song number, Derek shows off that he has a signed guitar by Van Halen. Like not just him playing it (which after the 15th zoom in on the guitar how could you NOT notice it thank you Derek), but pointing out to the audience that, Yes it was Indeed signed by Van Halen. Then there is the footage from the Hollywood Parade about the cars there. Sure, I get showing off like the Ghostbusters car, or Jurassic Park car, or the Batmobile. But Hurby the Love Bug? Night Rider?? Starsky and Hutch??? Magnum P.I.?????? The target audience is elementary kids, they aren’t going to know these old shows. So who is this for exactly?

Kudos to the cop for actually doing this, seriously. That cop probably had a hell of a lot of better things to do than arrest children for a bad after-school special.

And this is just SOME of the main problems of this film. There’s so much going on it would be impossible for me to go over everything without

The thing is, there is good material here. Maybe not great results, but there are a lot of ideas here that you can work with to make a decent kid’s movie. I actually loved the part where Cool Cat is dreaming and trying to figure out how he should handle bullies. I thought that was a good scene and a good way to show kids how to think through different options. There are good ideas here, but it was just way to much going on at once the movie basically shoots itself in the foot.

So here is My Version of what Cool Cat should have done. 

Cool Cat is running for School President. That’s the main story line. Early in the movie he learns of a writing contest where the winner gets their own float at the hollywood parade (stretch but roll with it). But Cool Cat has no idea what to write, and talks to it with his friends who offers ideas. So he is juggling that along with running for Student President.

However, the Butch the Bully doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want Cool Cat to win. So he vandalizes his posters. Cool cat still runs and makes better posters. Butch tries to frame Cool Cat for vandalizing the playground, but instead his cronies get caught and convinced that it was a bad idea. So Butch decides to cyberbully Cool Cat and his friends to scare them off. He works with the other kid running for President to make a hate ad against Cool Cat, telling everyone how terrible and bad Cool Cat is. Cool Cat tries to go against this my making his music video song over how cool he is to swing the votes, making Butch more angry and vindictive to his bullying scheme.

Cool Cat doesn’t know how to get Butch to stop, but after getting advice from his friends, parents, teachers, and some hard thinking, he decides to confront Butch about his bullying issue, tell someone, and thus solves the problem. Later on after talking to Butch, maybe manages to convince him to start being friends. 

Finally, Cool Cat uses this scenario to write his story about how to deal with bullying and make new friends. Which wins and we end with the Hollywood Parade.

Is this perfect? No. But it focuses the idea to one main plot (running for president) with the other issues naturally coming off of it, instead of making each issue it’s own separate thing. There is no random shifts in narrative, no GUN moments (or GUN in general we kick that shit out) and just focus on the main bullying theme.

Overall: This was a weird and bad children’s show. You have to put in a lot of effort into making a movie, but there was just too much going on for this to be a Good Children’s Movie, least of all a Good Movie in general. But it isn’t to say that it wasn’t morbidly enjoyable. It’s was like playing Spot The Difference to find all the Wrong Things in here. It was fun in a bad way.

So will I show this to children? No. But will I play a drinking game with my friends where we take a shot every time someone says the phrase “Cool Cat”? Yeah that sounds enjoyable. 

Take a shot for every time you read “Cool Cat” in my review.

Side Note:

You had this as a GUN PSA, wtf are you doing holding a gun!? Given how the only 3 videos this channel has is only Cool Cat Trailers, I’m assuming this is official Cool Cat. Soooo.....what the hell?