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imfelinefinee · 3 months ago

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How to play pranks on your Annoying Fish Monster Roommate (5+1)

Pairing: Seb.as.tian Sol.ace x Reader (Platonic / Romantic)

NSFW DNI

Notes: I've always wanted to try the 5+1 format- If you aren't familiar with it its when something happens 5 times within a fic and 1 thing to contrast the many things previously established. It really fun!

Also fishmanfishmanfishmanfishmanfishmanfishmanfishmanfishmanfishman

No idea if this is turning into its own AU now- I'm probably gonna make a masterpost for this bugger-

Summary: 5 times the expendable annoyed Sebastian and the one time he got them back

Warnings: Soft/Safe vore, Hurt/Comfort. A little hint at flirting in one of the parts (Its a joke dw), A very angry and annoyed fish man, mild swearing, brief mention to trauma etc

Inspired by @/Curledwithin 's Headcanons- I'm scared to tag them-

Words: 7.9K +

Scribbling down the lines without much thought, the sketch of a humanoid figure on the page. They’d yet to decide on who’d become another one of the many masterpieces they’d made thus far. Perhaps it would be another addition to the ever-growing collection of Sebastian doodles they hid within their desk out of view so that he wouldn’t find out about their hobby.

They’d try drawing off memory as a reference for old cartoon shows. Which proved to be rather mundane or simply not up to par as the human mind wasn’t always reliable. It always looked off to them, unsure of themselves as something wasn’t quite right yet they couldn’t determine what it was.

With communications cut off, including access to the luxury that was the internet. They were left with nothing besides the dull marine biology books plastered around or the monotonous documents that served their purposes. It was nice to pass the time in the beginning but now, it never wielded such results.

As the self-proclaimed expert in marine biology after reading every single book in their arsenal, though those weren’t the only subjects they were versed in after reading book after book. Some with facts of science others were business and finance. If they got out of Blacksite, they’d know how to start a business.

They couldn’t determine if that was either a good thing or a bad thing.

Drawing had become a recent pass time for them, an indulgence. But after so much time, they procrastinated more and more until simply trying to finish their current sketch was infuriating as it wasn’t right!

Their attempt at curing their ailment of boredom proved subpar, nothing. Their mind went blank as they could hardly think, a blockage within their head as any attempt at properly thinking only got them in a pit of frustration. Repeatedly they tried to draw a line, only to falter further. Hesitation in their next step as their fingers shook with the graphite pencil in their grip.

“Fucking-... DAMN IT!”, the pencil sent flying against the wall. Colliding with the metallic surface of a wall as it banged against it, only to helplessly fall to the floor. The paper sketch gripped within their hand crunched and scrambled in pain as it was carelessly folded into a ball, and thrown onto the floor in a litter.

It didn’t even look like him.

Whenever the documents Sebastian collected proved to be utter nonsense, he’d hand over the paper for them to use if they wished. For them, a gift. To him, something to get rid of clutter that he didn’t need. Mutual exchange as he’d say. And it was an act of kindness they rarely saw from him in contrast to his attitude most of the time.

They had even found a dusty old notebook that was empty, filled with horizontal lines of writing paper. It had become personal to them, acting like a sketchbook, journal and memories of their time within Blacksite. Something to look back on whenever they felt down or wanted to remember positive things during a rough patch. It kept them sane down there.

With a look of solemnness, they turned to a random page. Only to land on a specific one they were fond of. It was a harmless prank they played on Sebastian, using a camera’s flash they’d found and using it to blind him. It wasn’t as bad as a flash beacon, yet still pretty bright. It startled him enough that they managed to get a picture of his reaction.

A chuckle escaped them as they remembered the ramifications of their actions, caught mere seconds later of taking the photo and forced down into their “Time-out spot”. As Sebastian called it.

Only to get struck with a shock of inspiration…

<...>

Turns out their knowledge of marine biology proved to be rather useful for plotting their silly shenanigans. They could hardly hold their composure as they wanted to bawl over in laughter at their heinous idea.

It wasn’t just horrible, it was genius.

Gripping the bottle in their hand, containing acetic acid within. A strong scent of citrus and acid stung the top of the lid in a putrid aroma, a smell reminiscent of the outer seas or maybe even the welcoming smell of a British chip chop.

A common condiment often acquainted with fries or chips to flaunt the taste of a salty combination. A salty sour taste, some enduring the taste out of distaste with nothing left to eat after hitting a pub or just enjoying the delectable cuisine.

It also proved essential in their survival, especially for cleaning off blood in their blood without access to laundry. With due diligence even tending to Sebastian’s clothing whenever he was too bothered not to wash his clothes. Complaining about the smell of it afterwards as he hated the smell.

To be more specific, it was fucking vinegar.

They’d learnt through much pestering that Sebastian was composed of differing sealife DNAs, including one of which was a sea snake. Snakes absolutely loathed the stench of vinegar as it messed with their sense of smell, perhaps even their organs at times.

Which made it all the more perfect.

Opening the cap, they began to generously dose the vinegar in areas tended to sleep or interact with, especially in the corner where he maintained his shop. Not only that but, just to spite him. They poured some of it on his belongings, careful not to ruin his electronics as they only dripped a small drop on the items.

They snickered in mischief, feeling like an arsonist as it was dunked around the room like gasoline, yet to light the flames of Sebastian’s fury, the matchstick being the trigger as he entered the room.

Standing proudly in front of the results with their hands on their hips, the prank was in full completion. They inhaled the smell, holding back a grimace as it attacked their nostrils. It was a strong stench, even for them as they could pick up on it in the corner of the room they kept safe from the vinegar.

It was definitely going to work.

They waited for his return, passing the time with another book of humdrum. Flipping the paper pages in disinterest, they practically scanned the book for pictures rather than for the text within. A book they’d read a couple of times at that point

Sat down upon their throne of victory, a crate that acted as their sofa whenever they dwelled in the room of Sebastian’s company. A hard surface against their back as they struggled with a sore pain from sitting down on hard surfaces for so long. More than accustomed to it at that point.

As if on cue, they heard the clanging of metal as a heavyweight crawled through, complaining as it struggled with the pressure and movement it was made to endure. The man of the hour pushed his head from the vent, pulling himself up into a standing posture. A bag holstered over his shoulder.

They watched as his eyes widened in a look of shock, the smell flooding his senses as his ears flared up in confusion as he wearily scanned the room for whatever it was that attacked his sensations.

A large forked tongue poked out from the gaps of his teeth, quizzically tasting the air as he tried to figure out what the stench was. Only to recoil in disguise as it worsened, the odour so bad to him that he physically revolted.

He knelt over, holding the lower half of his face as he tried to block out the stench. One of his hands gripped the wall for balance as he was hit with a wave of nausea. Holding back an urge as he heaved, on the verge of vomiting as his body could hardly manage to combat the odour.

A low hissing sound escaped his will, constant as his instinct flared in reaction to the fragrance of vinegar. A look of disgust on his face, sneering as he clenched his teeth shut to shelter his tongue that had been assaulted.

They hid their reaction with a book, biting back laughter as they barely held themselves together. The smile threatened to throw over their facade, their eyes met with the book in their hands. Welcoming the delight of the situation as they feigned interest in the media in front of them.

A voice called out to them, speaking their name with spitting venom as he looked at them with a look of bitterness. Muffled despite its loud volume, thanks to the hands blocking his means of speech.

They hummed thoughtfully, slowly turning their gaze to him in a look of faux perplexion. Innocent in their demeanour they gently put the book aside on the crate, looking over at Sebastian in a facade of worry and concern.

“You okay there?”, they asked with a small voice. Pretending, they looked over him in confusion, trying to figure out why he reacted in such a way. Walking over as they reached out a hand to his shoulder, trying to reassure Sebastian that they were there for him.

He removed the hands covering his mouth as he opened it to talk, only to be audibly wrenching in displeasure. Wincing as he bit it down, looking up at them in a scowling pout. Heaving in his breathing as it hindered him, overwhelming him.

“Why does everything smell like-... FUCKING VINEGAR?”, he shrieked as he rose his voice. Angry as to why everything smells like something he absolutely loathed, hatred in his gaze as flicked his tail in an irritated manner.

“Oh!- I’m sorry!- I forgot… I just wanted to clean up some of the blood in my bedding- I didn’t realise it was that bad! Shit- I forgot how sensitive your nose was… I’ll try and find something to stop the smell…”.

They quickly retreated in a panicked stupor, little did he know that their little “mistake” wasn’t as innocent as it displayed, many things hidden behind the surface. As he would soon find out their intentions in due time.

<...>

Their little prank had been an outstanding success! Ever since the vinegar incident, the stench remained for the following days. Sebastian could barely cope as he bit into a chocolate bar or simply yawned. He glared at them for the rest of the day but didn’t once retaliate since the accident.

They had to grab a softer-scented bottle of Febreeze for Sebastian to spray around the room. Intoxicating the room with a rich fragrance to contrast the smell of putrid acid in his room. And eventually, it only came as the occasional whiff from an item he missed. It hurt their lungs but it was worth it!

They had confessed their crime to PAInter later that day, only to get a lecture that they shouldn’t have done that otherwise it would’ve pissed off Sebastian. But, he did also get a good laugh out of it like they did.

Their next plot struck them in a cord of intellect when they stumbled upon a ridiculously large speaker in a supply closet. It looked a little banged up, coated in a layer of dust as it had been left abandoned within the cramped space for a long time.

That’s when they had their next idea…

Sebastian had many things in his arsenal, including a gun. Often wielding it for emergencies in order to save the bullets, but it wasn’t just that. He had impeccable hearing thanks to his heightened senses, which was a virtue on many fronts as it allowed him to smell, hear or see things from a large distance.

But, that also made them incredibly sensitive. Another reason he hardly used his gun was that they really hurt his hearing when shot, deafening him in his vulnerability for a while as he recovered.

They weren’t going to shoot his gun though, that wouldn’t be the wisest choice. So, what better than a speaker? It wasn’t as loud as a bullet but it was boisterous enough for the use in their plans.

Fortunately, PAInter had managed to access a file of various audios that they’d gone through together earlier that day. Many of them were old logs from workers within Blacksite, yet they weren’t particularly interesting or useful.

Except one.

The two of them had managed to find gold, a needle within a haystack. Perfection. An utter masterpiece for the ears to hear. A catchy tune that everyone could dance to, PAInter even loved it, putting it onto a playlist for them both to enjoy.

Nothing else could compare to the emotion, the words, the beauty behind such a work. It was the little theme that played in the Blacksite elevators when in use, just to distract the occupants from the monsters outside the door as it forced them to dance along and forget their worries.

And now, it was about to take another victim into its arms.

Sebastian, the dearest fish man. Slept on the floor in his coiled curled form, his head atop his tail as he relaxed in a deep sleep. Usually, it was routine for them to use him as their personal warm bed as they’d cuddle up next to his tail or sometimes even within him if it was a particularly cold night.

He let out soft snores in his sleep, drool escaping his jaws as it flooded with saliva. His hair tangled from his ruffling, a sheet of cloth draped over his shoulders in a makeshift blanket as Urbanshade never owned proper bedding for their subjects.

He was calm and vulnerable. The one time he let down his guard around them, he openly displayed his affection in spite. Joking with one another as they talked about whatever came to their mind. Keeping them safe within his coils, protecting them as they too were left out in the open. Despite all his sulk and facades, he was a good soul.

And now, they were going to torture it.

They had refused to sleep much to his annoyance, delaying it until he eventually gave up and fell asleep to their advantage. In addition to looting and carrying the heavy speaker on their back throughout the halls of Blacksite, it lay at their feet at the ready.

Plugging in the audio jack from the speaker into their laptop, holding back a snicker as they opened the inbuilt media player, Hovering the cursor over the play button, turning back to Sebastian in for certainty that he was indeed asleep.

Pressing the button, they waited as it loaded up for a moment as it required the components of the computer to load rather than the use of the internet. Only to pause as they didn’t hear the song, despite it playing on their laptop.

Turning towards the speaker in confusion, wondering if it was broken due to the state they found it in. Looking over the panel, they realised they hadn’t even turned the speaker on in the first place. Flicking the switch towards on, it blasted in volume.

They flinched from the sudden increase in volume, the loudness hurting their ears as they were far too close to the speaker for comfort. Holding their ears with their hands as they adjusted to the amplification of sound.

The sleeping beauty, the prince dreaming of sleep. The victim had awoken to their shenanigans from the rowdy noise, his half-lidded groggy eyes stared down at them in a somewhat state of alertness and anger.

His breathing was heavy as if he’d been startled, holding a hand to his holstered belt. He had nearly instinctively grabbed his gun as he realised it had simply been only the two of them in the room.

His fanged teeth held together in a toothy frown, evidence of his dislike of the circumstances as he glared at both the speaker and them. His tail flicked in anger, evident in his irritated state. Audibly growling, muffled due to the speaker but if they picked up on it. The growling was hostile as he prepared to strike.

He rose from his cocoon, looking down on them in a gaping shadow as he loomed over them. The soft glow of his eyes combined with the light of his angler barely shone the burrow between his browline, raising an arm in preparation to strike down on… them?

They braced, bringing their arms towards their face as they leaned away. A pitiful attempt at a dodge as they prepared to be hit by the impact of his fist. Instead of them though, there was another victim.

The speaker met his blow, smashing it like a compressor as it was squished in a metallic crunch into a shell of its former self. Sparks sent flying from the device as it was torn apart in a mere punch from Sebastian. A declaration of strength, a means of intimidation.

He flicked his hand as if wiping away the dirt on his hands or an attempt to wipe away the pain as he crunched metal with his fist. They weren’t sure as he continued to growl despite the destruction of the device.

He turned to them with a look of disappointment and rage, grabbing the scruff of their collar as he brought them towards his face in warning. They were left in shock and awe of the circumstances, fearful yet amazed at his strength.

“Don’t. Do that. Again.”, those four words were enough for them to understand the assignment given to them. To which they responded with a series of quick nods, not wanting the confrontation in front of them as they leaned away. Trying to escape from it all.

He grumbled as they did so, exhausted and annoyed, they’d certainly managed to piss him off well enough. But he took a moment to breathe, seemingly calming down just a bit as the hand that held them let go. His face turned to plain tiresome exhaustion.

“Why did you do that?”, irritated in his tone as he eyed them down in suspicion under his lidded eyes, barely able to keep them open.

“Accident…”, they answered with a hint of regret and hesitancy. suddenly found themselves regretting the idea of their prank. A look of guilt on their face as they looked away, unable to look him in the eyes. Clutching a hand within another, squishing the limb to ease the stress that suddenly enveloped them.

He only sighed, turning towards the screen of the laptop as he folded the screen gently. Casting the room in darkness, with the only light of his angler remaining. The only view was his face as it still frowned, yet they were met with a look of softness in his eyes.

With one of his hands, he tugged at their tangle of hands until his hand enveloped one of them in full. Giving it a tender squeeze of reassurance, gentle in consideration as he held onto them. His main pair of arms enveloped their waist as he picked them off the ground.

Coiling up into his original position, grabbing their folded bedding that lay onto a crate. Smothering them in a blanket as he threw it on top of them, ruffling their hair as he let go of the hold. Only to shove a pillow in their face, demanding that they were to fall asleep there. They surrendered, tucking themselves in and making themselves comfortable.

Maybe they should lower the volume of their pranks, literally.

<...>

The next morning, they awoke to a sense of loneliness and unwavering warmth. Opening their eyes felt heavy as if something weighed them down, inhaling from their nose proved to be stuffy with blockage.

They could hardly determine what they were feeling, whether they were hungry or sick with vomit. Their throat quenched with thirst, drier than a dessert. It felt as though it was made of sandpaper, not only that but the headache they had threatened to crack and break their skull from how bad it was pounding.

Their cheeks flushed with unbearable heat, yet their body shivered with cold. Their joints ached with pain as they attempted to move, wincing upon opening their eyes to the blinding light that attacked their eyes.

They heard a voice call out to them, repeatedly hurriedly speaking their name in murmurs. With the weight of their body dragging behind them, they managed to sit up and turn towards whoever was calling their name.

“Oh, thank god! You’re awake!-”, someone's voice spoke up from the buzzing of their ears, barely audible as they sighed in relief. Tilting their head in confusion, they approached the source in a flimsy crawl. The voice got louder as they were finally able to hear, their mind realising it was PAInter within their daze.

“Hellooo…. I’m awake… Where’s Sebby?...”, their speech was drawn out in a slurring manner. Their voice hoarse in almost a whisper as they barely managed a murmur, croaky as they hardly got the question out.

“Uh- You, okay there?- You don’t look too good- Also, Sebastian went out to get some stuff to fix you up.”, they sounded worried in their tone of voice. They let out a long yawn as they sipped their eyes in an attempt to clear up the weight and dust in them. The only thought on their mind was to take a painkiller or two.

They propped their body up against the crate where their laptop sat, crossing their arms as a makeshift cushion to balance their head. Whilst also sheltering their eyes from the light that came with it, blinding them. They felt like shit as if they were dying.

“Blub…Blub blub blub- blub…”, they deemed that a decent enough reply. Not holding the energy to keep up with the conversation PAInter was trying to have with them. Their delirious state barely kept up with his talk, only thinking of fish at that moment. For whatever reason it was, they had no idea either. But, they really wanted to fish. Just fish.

“Blub… Blub blub??”, PAInter responded in the same speech as them, as if attempting to converse in a language of nonsense. Evidently, they were confused as to why they’d respond with fish sound effects.

“Blub… blu blub blub blub-”, they were soon having an in-depth conversation about numerous serious topics troubling them in their now sudden language of the speech of fishes, repeatedly going with the same word or sound. ‘Blub’.

It was just a constant thing, neither of them stopping as they continued in their conversation. It was a truly insightful, resolution-breaking speech between two sentient beings. Wiping their forehead, they were drenched in sweat, yearning for sleep but not wanting to pull away from the interesting talk with PAInter.

Only for it to be cut off from the palm that gently pressed into their forehead, the touch was cold; Pleasant in contrast to the pounding headache that made their head swell with ache, it soothed their pain ever so slightly.

They leaned into the touch, perhaps a little too much as a hand gripped their shoulder and they were nearly sent flying forward. Nuzzling into the hand as it smothered them in a tender touch, allowing them to relax into the hand.

“Sheesh- You’re hot…”, the voice of Sebastian commented, his hand withdrawing from their forehead from the rising temperature of their forehead. They’d gotten sick in the night, developing a fever in the process. Reacting far too late to prevent it to the stage it's gotten to, only able to treat it as it was and hope that it’d get better.

Admittedly, he was worried about them.

He wasn’t an expert in telling temperature but they were boiling, probably far too hot than the recommended amount. Yet, he couldn’t risk taking the blanket away from their shoulders in case it caused them more shivering. It was the only comfortable thing he could use as well.

“Thank you-....”, they replied in a slurred manner. Responding to his prior statement he quickly realised all too quickly that they interpreted it as a compliment. His face flushed in embarrassment suddenly, hoping they wouldn’t take notice of it in their state. They’d probably make fun of him for such a thing.

“T-That isn’t what I meant!- Moron-...”, he stumbled on his words slightly but managed to keep himself together. Turning his attention towards a pouch on his tail, picking up a packet of Paracetamol into his hand. Finding them in an old infirmary in his search for supplies to treat them with.

He wasn’t going to risk them taking the pills themselves, they could hardly hold themselves up. Let alone take the pills on their own. With the one hand keeping them stable, holding the pills between his fingertips as the other held a bottle of water.

“Open your mouth.”, he commanded with haste, watching as it took them a moment to process his request and comply. He shook his head at their condition, wondering how they kept up with themselves in such a state. Gently placing the pills on their tongue, tilting their head up as he gently handed them the bottle of water.

They understood quite quickly, taking the bottle from his hand as they greedily gulped down the water alongside the pillows. Letting out a sigh of relief as they did so, only to go for another drink to clench their thirst.

Once they’d finished, they yawned in exhaustion. Leaning their weight towards Sebastian as he caught them, he realised that they were going to need the rest in order to recover. He moved them into a more comfortable lying position, propping their head onto his lap to act as a substitute for their abandoned pillow.

“What were you guys doing?”, he found himself asking the question to PAInter. As soon as he’d gotten back, the two of them were just making fish noises towards one another. It was a sight to behold.

“Here I thought you were fluent in the art of the dialect of fish! And here you are, a fish man! Wow-”, PAInter dramatised their speech in an odd attempt at a British accent. Drawing a pose on the monitor with arms raised to his digital face. Wait- was that an avatar?

Not quite in the mood for jokes, he rolled his eyes as he growled in a low volume. PAInter seemed to get the message as they quickly erased the painting they’d worked on. Only giggling in response as Sebastian worked through the tangled mess of hair atop the expendable head.

Thus concluding the third prank, if that counted to their toll.

<...>

About a day or two later, their fever had fortunately broken in thanks to Sebastian’s constant nagging. As they made progress towards recovery, they found themselves in a tiny mood for mischief, at minimum a small prank.

And they weren’t looking forward to another prank that involved something that might scare him again. Seeing Sebastian that angry wasn’t a friendly sight, it was frightening to even think about. Luckily, he accepted their apology afterwards.

“It’s fine- Just don’t do any of that bullshit again.”, he responded to them after they profusely apologised, a small smile on his face as he leaned forward as he ruffled their tangled hair, causing a worse mess for them to work through. They took it as a promise, nodding in agreement. Only to usher them to feel soon after.

And they weren’t a person who broke their promises. Most of the time.

They were forced into bedrest, under the watchful eye of PAInter as Sebastian went to do something productive. They didn’t remember what he said about what he was going to do but it was probably something involving their sickness. They groaned audibly as they weren’t even allowed to get up from the floor and stretch out in case they collapsed.

PAInter refused to even let them budge an inch, yet their joints were stiff with soreness. Even as they stretched, it wasn’t enough to get their muscles moving. They really needed the movement, at least for a small walk or something.

They were left behind with only their thoughts for company.

So, they decided the best course of action was to roll across the floor. Barrel rolling like a crocodile with a pillow in their grasp. PAInter quickly became alerted to their movement, looking down at them with a scribbled frown.

“HEY!- You’re not supposed to be moving!”, he chastised them in the form of a lecture. They rolled their eyes, ceasing their movements as they let out the loudest, grumpiest, annoying groan they could muster in a long drawn-out breath until their lungs eventually gave up.

They decide to ignore PAInter’s commands, standing off the floor as they stretch, joints cracking under the new pressure, withering away the soreness as a yawn escapes them, suddenly feeling more awake and energetic.

Not feeling in full condition but enough to do some things, whatever those things were. Looking around the place, Sebastian was quite the mess at times, leaving files littered on the ground. He often left his comb, rubbish, bedding and whatever was left over on his plate because he couldn’t be bothered to clean it up.

Don’t get them started on whenever he sheds, that was a catastrophe to clean up.

So, being caring and productive as they were. They began cleaning the mess left behind, much to the complaints of PAInter who tried earnestly to get their attention. Only for them to poke their tongue out childishly in response to his nagging.

Folding the sheets he used as makeshift blankets, topped on top of a crate in a neat pile. Their dirty laundry including their sickly bedding was tossed aside for them to tackle later. Piling up rubbish into a random crate with nothing in it, to dispose of in one of the random bins throughout the facility.

They even dedicated the time to organise his little mess of documents in data in order of files to a mountain of storage drives.

“You really shouldn’t be moving like this!- You should be resting!- You can’t possibly combat the infection in your body without sufficient energy!- If you were to use it up, you could end up even worse than before!- Oh gods- Sebastian is going to dismantle me!-”, PAInter panicked in their fumbling speech, if they were human. They’d be the embodiment of a stuttering mess.

“Relax- He isn’t going to kill you. Not if I have anything to say about it- Also I’m fine- It’s only a little bit of cleaning and besides I’m practically done”, and they were done. Besides the laundry, that was a task for their future self, not the current tense.

That’s when they got an idea, they remembered their little fever dream of speaking fish with their companion. And what better than some wordplay, especially along the lines of the fish category? It was harmless and probably funny.

Perhaps even punny.

Grabbing a bottle of water and the medication they’d found on the floor. They popped a pill from the seal and swallowed it down, giving an ample amount of water with it. Grabbing some of the laundry into their hands, they began to fold it away into a neater pile for easier transportation later.

Only to hear the man of the hour arrive back in time, he looked tired as he leaned forward with an arched back. He quickly took notice that they were up and running compared to the state they were in earlier. He stared down at them after scanning the room, deadpan as if he wasn’t very impressed by the recent cleaning they’d done.

He didn’t bother asking either of them what happened. Far too used by their little schemes up to that point. He began to unpack all of the items he’d garnered including some medical supplies, refills of water, flash beacons, batteries and the like.

“Water are you doing?”, they asked with feigned curiosity as to his recent business. Standing up, they inspected a bag left untouched by his moving hands. Reaching out a hand towards it, only for it to be snatched by his.

“Don’t. Touch. It’s tonight's dinner.”, without the ability to see or touch whatever was housed within the sack. They sniffed at the contents, only to be met with a stench of salt and oceanic algae. Not only that but it looked as though there was a wet patch at the bottom of the pouch, concluding that it was likely fish in association to the word food.

“That was a little shallow of you- Are you okay? Shorely you’re not feeling under the weather too?”, they raised a hand towards his face. Only for it to be pushed away by him, his eyes looking down at them in suspicion.

“I’m fine- Why are you up anyway? I told PAInter to make sure you rest-”, he eyed down the suspect in question. Raising an eyebrow in intrigue at the subject before the three of them, PAInter visibly sweated with animated droplets on his face.

“Uhh- I tried to get them back to sleep but they wouldn’t listen to me…”, it spoke with honesty and truth. They knew not to cross paths with Sebastian, or test the waters so to speak as they refused to lie to someone they saw as family.

“What? I was just trying to kelp out!”, they exclaimed with their hands above their head to exaggerate their words. Only to be met with the collective glares of both Sebastian and PAInter with the same frown, one thing they had in common besides the escape of Blacksite was how annoying their companion could be.

“I’m going to break every bone in your body if you don’t stop.”, he threatened in a dry tone of voice. PAInter joined in on the threat by drawing a picture of their face with Xs over the place that should’ve been their eyes.

Motherfuckers. They weren’t gonna give up that easily.

“Oh come on! You guys would be bonely without me-”, they were cut off as Sebastian tackled them with full force. Dragging them to the fall with him as he held them down, feeling them squirm and struggle under the pressure as he laid down atop them.

“I AM NOT DONE!- I HAVE A SKELE-TON OF JOKES IN MY ARSENAL! I’M VERY HUMERUS!- IT’S YOU GUYS WHO DON’T HAVE A FUNNY BONE! COME AT ME- I BET YOU GUYS DON’T EVEN HAVE THE GUTS! I’M NEVER GONNA RUN OUT EVEN IF I’M BONE-DRY”.

He held them there for about an hour or two.

<...>

They grumbled under their breath, pressing their head as their cheek squished against the solid cold surface. They had been dragged across the entirety of Blacksite into a small cafeteria that Sebastian had found, equipped with the luxury of an inbuilt electric stove and plenty of pots and pans. It even had the leisure of a spice rack!

Sebastian watched over the pot on top of the stove, watching the water boil as bubbles burst from the influx of heat at the bottom of the pot. A ladle in one hand as he tasted his culinary expertise, sprinkling a dash of salt if necessary.

In the other laid the skin and bones of deceased fish, stripped of their outer coating and bone structure for the flesh within. Snacking on the delights of raw fish, the crunch of bone on his teeth.

He had called the dish, Sebastian’s special stew. A dish composed of whatever tinned vegetables he found in the cabinets, carrots and peas. A can of chopped tomatoes and water for the base, and whatever fish he found whilst hunting during his swim earlier that day.

Turns out he went swimming out in the inner cavern that shrouded some of Blacksite and with his strength. He managed to chase and hunt down the stray fish that happened to be too slow for the rest of their school. A liability to their survival and more importantly Sebastian’s dish. He actually seemed really happy about it.

He actually wanted to make them a stew to help them feel better, and what better than homemade fish soup? The sound of it didn’t sound disgusting at all! Yet, they couldn’t really afford to be fussy with food down in the depths of Blacksite.

“...Could you pass the pepper from the cabinet up there?”. He called out their name nonchalantly, which had been a massive improvement from expendable or human since they’d bonded. Pointing towards the cupboard that contained the spice rack inside of it. They whined with a huff but stood up otherwise, walking towards the container.

Upon opening the small door on top of their tiptoes, they spotted something that caught their eye. A devious scheme came to mind as they grabbed the small bottle into their hand, hiding it in a pocket as they picked up the pepper shaker with it.

“Thanks-”, he was about to pour the dosage of spice into the soup. Only to pick up a pungent scent coming off the container, a drop of the contents spilling into the soup much to his dismay. He growled in a low snarl at them for what they had done, the betrayal in his eyes evident as it was revealed what was in his beloved soup.

Cinnamon. Another stench happened to mess with his senses, gently placed the spice back down onto the container as he eyed them with a look of bewilderment. Only for them to hand him the proper condiment he was looking for originally.

He gripped a strand of their hair as it tugged them towards him, careful not to rip it out of their scalp. He glared at them down with a hiss, displeased by their actions as he opened his mouth in a widened manner. They let out a pout as they leaned back, preparing to be shoved inside.

A hand gripped their shoulder, hindering their movement and chances of escape. Preparing for the inevitable time out they were about to face for roughly the next couple of hours. Waiting with bated breath as the tongue came closer to their face, taking in their taste as it dragged over their cheek. Drool dripped from the side of the cheek as it clung to the skin of their face.

He chuckled upon seeing them seize up and halter, pulling away from their personal space as he returned his attention was drawn back towards the soup. Picking up a small bottle of oregano and pouring just a little extra into the soup to combat the taste of oregano.

“You remind me of my siblings at times-... I used to cook for them whenever our parents weren’t home… They’d always try and “help” out with my cooking- Trying to pour hot chocolate into the pasta sauce I was making!…”, he reminisced with nostalgia, a look of sorrow on his face as he remembered happier times of his human life.

He must really miss his family…

They didn’t respond, their expression soft as they stood there next to him. Listening in case he wanted to talk about it some more, yet he didn’t utter another word as he looked conflicted. A mix of hatred, regret, sadness, anger, and happiness all at once. He looked as though he wanted to cry.

Their hands wrapped around his waist, holding him close as they mustered all their strength into a strong hug. Trying to comfort him in a warm embrace despite their small stature, he turned to them with a soft smile as it appeared to have worked.

One of his hands clung to their backside, rubbing it in an up-and-down motion as he returned the hug. Maybe they were trying to reassure them in return, or maybe it was just a gesture of his gratitude.

“I’m fine- Don’t you worry…”, his hand retracted from their back towards the top of their scalp, ruffling the locks between his fingers as he let another chuckle escape his lips. A look of softness in his eyes.

Not too long after he finished his culinary masterpiece, the two of them sat at one of the many tables in the cafeteria. Sebastian hardly managed on the cramped metal seat but managed to sit down to eat the food. The food looked really nice actually, with the spices and vegetables to disguise the smell of the fish.

After hesitating after a bite, they plunged the bite into their mouth. Preparing for the urge to spit out the fish from their mouth, only for it to taste really good. A squeal of delight escaped them from the rich taste, surprised that it worked so well together.

Sebastian watched as they helped themselves bite for bite, only to realise that they’d quickly finished their dish. They looked around aimlessly as if they wondered where the food had gone, a smile on his face as he realised they liked his cooking.

Picking up their bowl, pouring another scoop of stew into the bowl as they handed it back to them. The two of them enjoy the moment between each other. He couldn’t help but notice how much they ate, a little concerned over the gesture but he never withdrew the food. Content that they were eating a full meal for once.

<...>

A day later, they fully recovered from the fever they’d endured. Strolling the halls of Blacksite, book in hand with the text of pages gripped tight to their chest. Returning from their secluded spot after having retreated to the room for some privacy.

A yawn escaped them, tired from having to clean out the laundry with whatever cleaning supplies they could find. Using their hand and sponge to scrub out the stains had somehow gotten into the fabric.

It took some time, but they were spotless afterwards. After many events throughout the past week, they asked PAInter to take some pictures from the security feed for them to remember in their scrapbook.

They’d written each little “prank” they’d done within the journal. PAInter suggested adding a couple of their comments for the book of remembrance. A memorabilia for them to look back on with nostalgia.

Making their way back towards Sebastian’s little shop, crawling through the metallic shaft that was the entrance vent. Difficulty in their crawl with one hand to push themselves forward as the other held their beloved book.

As they entered, preparing to announce their return to their companions. They were met with the complete pitch-black darkness of the room, with no sense of voice or electricity with the poor light of the room. They knew Sebastian liked the darkness but it was never that bad that they could never see anything.

Something was wrong.

Pulling out from the vent, they called out in a desperate cry to hear their companions. Worried as to where they’d gone, wanting to know their whereabouts. Only for the shadows to envelope their figure in a dark embrace.

“Sebby!- PAI?- Are you guys here? Where-”, anxiety hit them in a sudden wave. Their breathing was hindered as they felt a weight on top of their lungs, their eyes scanning around for any sign of movement. Clutching the book tighter as if it were a lifeline.

They were cut off by their own scream as something roughly grabbed the collar of their shirt. Lifting them from the ground as they kicked out from the scare, trying to get their feet back onto the ground as they struggled in the sudden grip.

Wielding the book in their hands, they began to wildly attack whatever held them so mercilessly. Trying to fight off the attacker with the book as their sword and shield. Only for it to be thrown out of their grip with a small grip of the monster.

Unable to see, they tried slipping away with rapid movement, trying to squeeze their way out of the hold. Only for something wet to drip atop their head, feeling the liquid fall from the hair down to the drop below.

They looked up to see glowing blue eyes, a soft yellow light flickering in front of them. Their eyes widened as they witnessed fate befall them, their panic turned to a sombre deadpan stare as they accepted the reality of what was about to happen.

The tongue drew a line across their face, coating the skin in a thick drool as the creature- Sebastian tasted them. His open maw creased upwards at the sides, a big smile on his face as he noticed their grimace at the gesture.

Shoving their head inwards, gulping down as he licked at their form. Enjoying their delectable taste with ravenous intent as he greedily swallowed them into his empty belly. With a couple of gulps sending down to his stomach, hissing in delight at the meal.

His tail flicked happily as he pressed his finger to his throat, feeling the weight pass by until his little human landed with a plop into his stomach. A purr escaped him as he felt their movements, hands pressing down on them as they settled in.

They were met with the soft surface of velvet walls of his stomach, the walls cocooning around them in a welcoming hug as it accepted its new “meal”. The walls pressed down on them as Sebastian rubbed circles into their space, soothing them into the space that was himself.

Those weren’t the only things dwelling in his belly as they found a blanket and pillow housed within. Confused, they gripped the cloth into their hands, feeling a slightly damp yet dry fluffy sheet and one of the many scratchy pillows of Blacksite.

Audibly groaning at the situation before them, only to smother themselves into the blanket as they leaned into the tender flesh. The pillow cuddled to their chest as the surface was comfortable enough without it, not needed yet fond of the object nonetheless.

“Comfortable? Thought I’d return the favour after all the shit you’ve been pulling lately-”, explaining the reason behind the sudden scare. The realisation dawned upon them as it was revealed that he got his revenge against them. A predator lying in wait for the prey, striking at the perfect moment.

He let out a snicker as they punched his stomach, returning the gesture with more rubs as they reluctantly leaned into the affection. Hearing a small yawn escape them, cradled in warmth as they tucked into the comfortable space.

“Get some sleep, little guppy. You need it.”. He bit back a chuckle moments later as they were on the verge of sleep within the space, a hand continuing its movement to lull them to sleep.

His attention turned towards the abandoned book on the floor, observing the cover revealed nothing of its contents. It didn’t look like any valuable data nor did it look interesting with the blank front cover.

Opening the contents within revealed a different story, looking upon different memories with their little scribbles of drawings and pictures. Writing down each memory in key detail as if they took in every second of their shared moments. They noted down their thoughts and feelings towards each of their companions too.

He read in awe, a small content smile on his face as he curled up in his comfortable coiled form, flipping each page with intrigue. It didn’t pass him that they saw through his tough exterior, almost letting out a sigh of relief that they never saw him as the monster he looked like, rather the person within.

Maybe they should let them in some more…

<...>

“W-what are you doing with that flash beacon?...”.

#sfw g/t #g/t vore #giant/tiny #swwh #e a/t #soft vore #safe vore #my writing #pred!sebastian #pressure vore #nonsexual vore #fandom vore

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demigodofhoolemere · 1 year ago

Text

Collecting all of my thoughts on the 60th specials now that they’re over and there’s a cohesive overall picture, because I had many and I want to de-clutter them in my head for my own sake. Not in any particular order of significance, just stream of consciousness as I rewatch.

Be warned that while there were definitely things I enjoyed, there’s going to be a good bit of negativity in here, so if you understandably don’t want to see critiques of something you really liked, please do yourself the favor and don’t read this. I know what it’s like to see very negative takes on something you loved a lot and I know how bad it can feel as it sits with you in your stomach for a while if you’re particularly sensitive to it. Enter at your own risk. Also, I’m not looking to be argued with so if you read any of this and disagree with me on things, please just keep scrolling. This is just me throwing my thoughts at the wall.

And obviously, massive spoiler warnings here. I’ll be talking freely about all the things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE STAR BEAST

- I’ve seen people make fun of the opening but I don’t find anything wrong with it in particular. The Doctor standing there like he was cut and pasted is a little silly but it’s not laughably bad either. I get the feeling they realized after they’d already shot the specials that they needed a recap and threw it together pretty quickly but it’s not terrible.

- The new credits are GORGEOUS and the music makes me very happy.

- I have issues with it that I’ll get into but despite myself it’s nice to see Tennant again. He was my first Doctor and his era is very nostalgic for me so it would be hard to be totally unhappy to have him around.

- That said, now with the context that the return of this face somehow has nothing to do with the Toymaker, I’m baffled and not a fan of bringing him back just for the sake of it. I really thought there was going to be SOME kind of interference by the Toymaker that would be delved into a bit when he eventually turned up, something to justify this, but no. Which means that he really is just back because that particular regeneration needed closure or something, and yeah, Ten had issues and not the happiest sendoff, but in my personal opinion it just feels more like favoritism from RTD. For 57 years, regeneration has meant letting go, and it comes across like RTD can’t do that if he has to make up non-interference-related reasons for bringing an old face back and thereby altering regeneration mythos (which he does again in an even worse way later…) by suddenly saying it’s possible for a past life to come back. I know there’s technically precedence for old faces returning, in the form of the Curator, but that was done so quickly and vaguely that it’s not invasive. This is asking us to go along with old faces coming back for *checks notes* reasons, and to give a whole new number, altering our numbering system forever, to who is essentially just Ten again. I’m sorry, but I am never calling him Fourteen. I’m resigned to the fact that I’ll have to refer to Ncuti as Fifteen and so on from there, but that’s just Ten. The only difference is that he’s got three more lives in his head that make very slight differences to his personality. Very, very slight. But it’s bugging the crud out of me that Tennant is apparently so special that it’s fine to randomly have him become himself again, that he gets two numbers, and is now being made to appear twice on every poster that has the full lineup. I am never going to acknowledge him as a whole new regeneration between Jodie and Ncuti, I’m sorry. I adore Tennant, he’s my first and I’m legally obligated to mention that I do love him extremely dearly, but if none of this had anything to do with the Toymaker torturing him and playing with his emotions or something by making him look like his old self who had so much baggage, then this whole thing is immediately silly and self-indulgent on RTD’s part.

- I know that the Doctor and Donna were brought together again because the two of them combined as the DoctorDonna could save London, but it happens so fast and without emotion. Their paths just sort of happen to cross, immediately. It’s done very quickly and in a way that doesn’t let me feel the full weight of him reacting to seeing her again.

- However I love seeing Donna again. She’s very much the same Donna I’ve always loved and it’s great to see her.

- I do like bringing back the recurring joke of Donna missing out on obvious alien attacks, lol.

- Nice that this stuff takes place in Camden seeing as Bill Hartnell partly grew up there.

- I appreciate moments like the psychic paper saying “Grand Mistress” instead of “Grand Master” as acknowledgment of Thirteen’s existence. I was worried she’d be entirely swept under the rug.

- Allons-y! 💙 That does my inner 2012 self’s heart good.

- Shaun Temple is a sweetheart and a delight.

- Gotta love throwing in one last reference to Nerys, lol.

- Donna, I’m proud of you for being such a good person that you want to give away your money to people in need, but keep at least SOME of it, girl! You’ve got a family!

- Shirley Anne Bingham is awesome and she can stay as long as she likes.

- Oh boy… pretty much everything to do with Rose feels very ham-fisted and clumsy to me. You can have a trans character without going about it like this. If the point is supposed to be to normalize portraying it in media, then it should be natural, not be about making a point. Shoving it down the audience’s throat every minute is naturally going to make people dislike the writing, even people who fully agree with the intent. I’ve already seen a fair number of LGBT+ viewers discuss this being poorly done. It doesn’t feel well-written to me and I don’t think it’s going to age particularly well either. More on this later as the worst of it crops up.

- I love Sylvia trying so hard to protect Donna by completely denying anything alien and acting like everything is normal. This poor woman is doing everything she can. I never thought I’d like her so much.

- Sad to hear Donna talk about feeling like she’s lost something but never knowing what it is.

- The Meep and the Wrarth Warriors all look incredible.

- Not a fan of the sonic basically being a magic wand. There’s a reason they ended up ditching it in the Classic series, because it was getting so that the Doctor relied too much on it, and that was before it had anywhere near the convenient powers it’s had throughout the modern series. This is a big step even further than they’ve ever taken it before and it really took me out of it. The sonic shouldn’t be able to create Iron Man HUD screens or Green Lantern hard light shields. I’m hoping they don’t do that again as the show continues.

- Murray Gold’s music is beautiful and it’s great to have it back. It does have a tendency to get too loud, though. I like to hear what people are saying.

- I do quite like the interactions between the Doctor and Shirley. She’s got a good personality to bounce off of him. I especially like them waving at each other as he sneaks off onto the UNIT truck.

- That pretty purple light coming from the ship was more exciting when I thought it was the Toymaker’s power coming to control them. Oh well.

- Love Donna’s reaction to the Meep.

- Poor Sylvia at her wit’s end. Someone help that woman.

- While it’s fitting that the Doctor has now been slapped by the trifecta of mothers from the RTD era, I’m not sure that we should still be doing gags like that where it’s apparently okay and funny to slap someone if they’re a man. The reverse would go down very differently. At least in context it makes perfect sense for Sylvia to be angry that he’s shown up and to want to get rid of him, but I hope that kind of humor doesn’t stay.

- Shaun walking in on all of this chaos like

- Nice to see the Doctor get emotional over Wilf. Same, dude.

- ^ I also really like that Kate took it upon herself to get him into a nice care home practically for free. I appreciate that she gets in touch with so many of the companions and that she’d go out of her way to help him have what he needs. I could see her dad doing that, too. I’d like to think that Yates is in the same care home (considering Richard Franklin is in real life at this point) and he and Wilf can share stories.

- Gaaahh at, “You’re assuming ‘he’ as a pronoun?” Nobody talks like this.

- Not sure the Doctor should be talking so freely about aliens and two hearts right in front of Donna and risk her remembering. He even casually hands her the sonic for a moment and shortly after starts explaining what it is. Probably not the best idea. Bit careless, mate.

- Part of me feels like the barrister wig bit is a little too silly, but then again:

- Anyone who had any awareness of the original comic was already waiting for the Meep’s turn, but knowing didn’t make it any less of a good reveal. I liked the very sudden shift.

- Shirley having weapons in her wheelchair, heck yeah. Reminds me of the Brig’s concealed gun in his cane in SJA.

- I like Donna feeling compelled to help even if she can’t remember having ever done anything like this. I also like Sylvia’s chilled realization that Donna called him “Doctor” without having ever been told.

- Lol at the kid watching the destruction from the window and not running or looking freaked out in the slightest. Boy has no self-preservation instincts.

- There is definitely some good emotion going on with the Doctor’s conflict in having to reactivate Donna’s memories, and it’s extremely well acted, but for whatever reason I don’t feel as much weight here as I should. It’s not just that I’m too disconnected from their original run at this point, because I rewatched The Stolen Earth/Journey’s End as well as The End of Time in the lead-up to this airing and I was severely emotionally impacted like I’d been thrown back 10 years in time, so I have no idea why I just don’t feel as much as I wish I did. It’s definitely not about their acting. Maybe it’s just too quick? Because I feel like the pacing of this episode in general goes by so fast that there hasn’t been enough time to really drive home the drama of what remembering will do to her, or the full extent of their relationship. Everything just sort of happens. The conflict of having to choose to restore her memories is great but the actual regaining of those memories just feels… sudden? Unearned? I don’t know.

- Don’t know how to feel about Donna having straight up Winter Soldier trigger words to unlock her memories.

- I really feel like her getting her memories back should have been a much more emotional moment between the two of them. She has no reaction to suddenly having it all back — it’s just undercut with the humor of yelling about having given away all of her lottery money, and being mad at him that there was a subconscious part of her that had his influence that drove her to do that. Honestly, I believe Donna would do it anyway, you don’t need to make some explanation for his soft heart still sticking around in her head like she wouldn’t have done that on her own. After a decade of wishing Donna could one day have her memories restored, this isn’t what I wanted out of it.

- It’s better a minute later when she realizes she only has 55 seconds left before her brain fries but she’s okay with it because it’s the best 55 seconds of her life to now be fully herself again. It’s also sweet when the Doctor is holding her as she begins to fade away, even if it’s undercut a moment later by her suddenly waking again.

- I’m not sure why the metacrisis energy in her head would split off and have half go into Rose in the womb. I suppose you could come up with a way that makes it make sense but it’s pretty convenient.

- Doctor: “We are binary.”

Donna: “She’s not. Because the Doctor’s —”

Doctor: “Male.”

Donna: “And female.”

Rose: “And neither. And more.”

… Huh??? Are they trying to say that Rose is trans because the Doctor is capable of being either male or female and the metacrisis somehow passed this on?

- I like the quick moment between the Doctor and Sylvia. Didn’t know I wanted more of them.

- The Meep’s ominous allusion to “the boss” doesn’t seem to have been about the Toymaker, so… what gives? Not that that’s a bad thing that it wasn’t, I wasn’t sure what to think of him having people working for him anyway, but I’m curious if that thread will ever get picked up.

- Donna: “Yes, we know.”

Rose: “We know everything, thanks.”

Donna: “And you know nothing. It’s a shame you’re not a woman anymore. ‘Cause she’d have understood.”

Rose: “We’ve got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

Okay, first off, why the attitude with the Doctor? Geez. Second, Thirteen never let go of anything in her life lol, no she wouldn’t have understood. Third, did they not just say that the Doctor is ‘male and female and neither and more’? Now a few minutes later the Doctor is suddenly just a dumb man who could never understand because he doesn’t have a woman’s perspective? One minute we’re saying gender doesn’t matter because he’s both and none, the next we’re using the standard binary against him to act like the women are so much smarter than him? There’s no need to pick on him like that, and please, just pick one, you can’t have it both ways. Also, oh my word, ‘male-presenting Time Lord’? Russell, can I have a word with you about writing sentences that sound like they would actually come out of someone’s mouth?

- ^ Additionally, the solution to the metacrisis is to just… let go of it. They literally just choose to make the energy leave them. Easy as that. That feels so incredibly unearned and completely undermines the stakes involved. For 15 years Donna was at risk of having her head explode. Her ending was an absolute tragedy with very serious consequences. And now they just go, ‘Well, they can let go of the metacrisis though’. All of the drama of her circumstances feels horribly undermined by the easiness and convenience of that. I don’t think they should have fixed everything in just the first episode of this anyway, let alone that lazily.

- I am quite a fan of the new TARDIS interior. It’s a bit big, hopefully we’ll get some furniture in there over time or something, but it’s a very neat design. I’m very pleased to have the Classic white back, but that the lights can also change colors if they feel like adding a bit more mood or character to a scene. I’m also assuming that its wheelchair accessibility means we’ll get Shirley in there at some point, which I look forward to.

- Aw at the Doctor remembering how Donna takes her coffee.

- “I really do remember, though. Every second with you. I’m so glad you’re back, ‘cause it killed me, Donna. It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.” Aw 💗

- “I said so!” Poor Sylvia, lol.

- Watching this the first time under the assumption that the Toymaker was pulling strings throughout the first two specials, I really thought they ended up at the end of the universe because he hijacked the TARDIS, and the coffee was a coincidence. Nope. Turns out the TARDIS really just broke down that bad over one spilled cup of coffee. It really should be more resilient than that!

~~~~~

OVERVIEW

I liked more than I realized, there is some good in here (Sylvia was the unexpected MVP), but for me the bad just outweighs it too much. The things I do like are generally small moments and the things I don’t are generally quite big ones, which is a problem. I’ve got a number of issues with the writing, and that’s just if the episode were standalone, let alone the fact that this is supposed to be for a big anniversary. In the context of the entirety of the specials it’s got even more problems. This doesn’t feel like it’s celebrating anything, except perhaps the original comic which is nice at least, but apart from that, it’s just… an episode. A poorer one at that, imo. The pacing is rushed and the writing is often either forced or lazy or both. It doesn’t have anything to do with the next two specials and it doesn’t set up anything that it should. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected that it would, but I find it bizarre that it doesn’t.

I really wanted to like this and I went into it expecting that I would, but even beyond the writing problems, I just couldn’t connect. I don’t know if it’s the pacing or what but I don’t feel nearly as much as I want to and feel I should. Ten and Donna are being very much themselves and they’ve got stuff here that should make me emotional, and to a degree it does, but… something is just off. I don’t feel the weight of it, and that’s a recurring problem throughout all of these specials. For whatever reason the episodes just don’t emotionally resonate with me for the most part, even if I’m pleased to be watching Ten and Donna and should therefore be more excited about it and care more about the fact that they’re back on my screen. I really, really want to care more about seeing them again. I do care, but it’s just… off. The rushed resolution to Donna’s problem doesn’t help, either. I don’t feel the emotional payoff. Part of me feels like if they were going to undermine the impact of Journey’s End by solving everything with such ease and casualness, then maybe they shouldn’t have done this at all. And I love Donna, I do, I’ve always wanted her to remember eventually, but I really feel there needed to be more to it than this. This doesn’t feel earned. I’ve got little to no emotional catharsis out of it. I would wonder if it was just a me problem if not for the fact that my sister came away from it feeling the same. Tales of the TARDIS handled this better for Jamie and Zoe in just 5 minutes — they didn’t have stakes for remembering like Donna did, it was just a cruel thing done to them, so it doesn’t feel like it’s undercutting anything to have their memories restored just as easily as they were taken, and there’s a whole ton of emotion packed into that 5 minutes that feels real, earned, and gets to me every time I’ve watched it. Why I don’t feel the same about Donna is beyond me.

I’m really struggling to understand why after just this first episode so many people were rejoicing that RTD has saved the show. Granted, I didn’t hate the Chibnall era, just select parts of it in the same way that I would have problems here and there with RTD and Moffat, so I’m not coming from a place of having felt like the show I loved was dead, but I really don’t see how The Star Beast is any better than most given episodes of the preceding era. I didn’t feel some magical shift. If anything, I liked most Chibnall era episodes more than this. I don’t know what everyone is talking about.

Thankfully the next special is a vast improvement imo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WILD BLUE YONDER

- The opening with Isaac Newton just feels completely unnecessary to me. I feel like Russell just wanted to make a joke about changing the word “gravity” to “mavity” and decided to create that opening scene. I believe I also saw that the actor is a friend of his so this also could have spawned from him trying to create a bit part for him. Whatever the origin is, I’m not a fan of it. I really hope the mavity joke doesn’t continue past these specials, because I find it very annoying for reasons I can’t even quite place. Just gets on my nerves. And let’s forget the fact that the word gravity existed before Isaac Newton anyway.

- The TARDIS blaring the military song at the beginning and later near the end is another thing I would have sworn was the Toymaker having a laugh. Nope. No clue why it’s doing that, then. They do say something about the TARDIS playing them a war song, I guess they mean to imply it was some kind of warning of what they were getting into? But it kind of just happens. I feel like RTD keeps doing things without explanation just for fun. And there’s definitely a time and place for that, but in these specials it keeps being stuff that really should have elaboration and then they just don’t.

- I really like the massive spaceship and its design. Feels like something my brain would make up as I’m listening to a Big Finish story. The moving pieces are awesome as well.

- This is just me being someone who primarily prefers the Classic series a lot of the time, but I’m kind of done with New Who making a point of people’s attractiveness. I don’t need commentary on how hot the characters think anyone they’ve run into is, let alone a historical figure. New Who has a strange obsession with sexualization. RTD and Moffat are the worst offenders with this. Can’t call to mind times where that happened in the Chibnall era but I could be missing something. In any case I really want them to grow up a bit.

- Hey, that’s the first reference to the Doctor snapping his fingers to control the TARDIS in who even knows how long! Not that I was even a fan of that concept but it’s interesting to hear about it again.

- I like that Ten quickly stops himself from placing any blame on Donna and apologizes.

- The Doctor kissing her hand and holding it to his chest when she starts panicking is very sweet. 💗

- Woohoo, bringing back the HADS! Troughton fans unite!

- I love the robot. That is a great robot.

- I totally thought that the void outside was the Toymaker’s realm. That’s what I get for listening to Solitaire I guess.

- ^ I was also waiting for the glass that the Doctor was pressing against to completely disappear and he would fall into the Toymaker’s realm. Would make a good fic though.

- With all of the shots of Ten and Donna being watched from behind I kept expecting the forms of old companions like Susan or Steven to show up to mess with the Doctor. Never mind.

- I knew he was going to lick the strange gooey substance. Same old Ten.

- Poor Donna wondering what her family would do if she never returned.

- I thought it was abrupt that the Doctor had finished his job and already come back to Donna, but the moment where we cut back to the Doctor fiddling around immediately made it click that Donna was NOT talking to the real one, which is terrifyingly creepy.

- ^ I assumed at first that the Toymaker was faking being the Doctor to get information out of Donna. Then when the fake Donna turned up I thought they were both just his puppets he’d sent. Even when it was revealed what they really were I still imagined the Toymaker had something to do with sending them after them. Still jarred that these first two specials had absolutely no set-up for the big bad they were teasing in promotions for ages. But this particular instance is still very good without having anything to do with him. The Not-Things are chillingly creepy and I was constantly on edge.

- I like how Donna has absolutely no reaction to, “My arms are too long,” as if the Doctor would just say that lol.

- The long arms are so freakish in the best kind of freakish way.

- I seriously thought for a minute that they were turning into giant marionettes. There’s a bit of music during the reveal that sounded a bit circus-y for a moment as well. I could not stop seeing the Toymaker around every corner lol.

- David and Catherine kill it as the Not-Things. It’s fascinating to see them play against themselves in such a dark way.

- The way they look when they’re growing enormous and are appearing more and more freakish really feels like something my brain would concoct while listening to Big Finish if they did a story like this.

- I really enjoy the darkness going on here generally. They didn’t shy away from being absolutely twisted and terrifying and disturbing. It’s good to have a bit of that sometimes.

- This is seriously David and Catherine at some of their best. This special has the best stuff for the Doctor and Donna as a duo and their relationship, as well as having to play everything twice. They’re so good at making the Not-Things convincing that I was genuinely having a hard time figuring out which ones were real for a while.

- I hate the Timeless Child lore but it’s used here to good effect. Same with the Flux. I actually quite enjoyed the Flux arc but the fact that it did permanently wipe out half the universe without getting reversed or fixed and we just don’t talk about it is ridiculous. While I wish they would fix the situation, similarly to the Timeless Child it’s used well here.

- That contorted crab walk thing is incredibly disturbing even if it does look stupid lol.

- Really, how can they use a line like, “To play your vicious games and win,” and not have me think the Toymaker was involved somewhere in here?

- The Doctor not being able to stop thinking is very relatable lol. I would fail so badly in this scenario.

- I really like the design of the old captain of the ship. I’d love to see what that species looks like when they’re not just skeletal remains. Unless they actually do just look like bone anyway like Thestrals, in which case that would be even cooler.

- Everything about the climax is very well-executed. The drama, the pacing, the stakes. Very strong stuff.

- Poor Donna being left behind. But do you know what I was expecting? Naturally, for the Toymaker to pluck her out before the ship exploded so that he could keep her alive to force to play games. These specials did not go anything like I expected lol.

- Sweet Ten and Donna just sitting there reeling for a minute.

- Not sure what invoking a superstition at the edge of the universe is supposed to do with the return of the Toymaker in the next ep. He says it’s because the walls of reality are thin and all things are possible, but that doesn’t mean that pouring some salt on the ground magically has something to do with him specifically. Feels like a very weird reason to give when the logical thing to do would just be to say that the Toymaker has been plotting to get him back for a long time and finally showed up now.

- Wilf broke me. This was the one thing in any of these specials to get me truly, legitimately emotional. Shed a tear over him and his sweet face. It’s a shame they weren’t able to film any more scenes with him but I’m so glad they got that one in.

~~~~~

OVERVIEW

By far the best of the specials. I quite enjoyed the sheer darkness and madness of this one, and David and Catherine absolutely knock it out of the park. The writing is largely very good and it’s very effective in its scare factor, as well as in showcasing the relationship between the Doctor and Donna. This is the best stuff they have in any of these specials and I felt a little more connected to them here than in the other two. That doesn’t say as much as I’d like it to, but I’ll take it.

It stands up very well on its own, which in one way is great and the mark of a wonderful episode, but in another way also speaks to one of my overall problems with these episodes which is that they’re not connected to each other. This is a fantastic story and extremely well done, but once again it doesn’t feel like it’s celebrating anything and I truly don’t understand why these specials weren’t written to be a lot more connected than they are. At the end of the day it’s just a collection of random episodes that fill a gap before Ncuti takes the reins. That said, I’m not complaining about this one, this really was very interesting. Definitely the standout episode out of the three.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE GIGGLE

- Getting this out of the way right from the start lest I comment on it during every scene of his: NPH steals the show. He acts his heart out here. On the one hand it’s a very different approach to and portrayal of the Toymaker, which would otherwise bother me, but I can buy it as a Toymaker who has had centuries and centuries since the original serial to grow madder and madder and madder (and though he doesn’t regenerate like a Time Lord, I’d still be willing to believe that pieces of his personality might shift with different faces). On the other hand, there is still very much an element of Michael Gough in his darker, more intense moments. Glints that you can see in his eyes and his wicked grin. Very different but very the same. I really wish more of the episode had focused on him, and even further that he had been involved in all three of these specials.

- I appreciate the different accents he puts on throughout, as it proves me right that he just copies things from all manner of cultures he has no connection to. Vindication.

- Genuinely creepy in the opening scene the way he talks about the doll family as if buying the one doll would be separating it from its family and make them sad. You get the impression he’s not kidding. Even creepier when he says the hair on the doll was from a woman who won’t be missing it and won’t miss anything ever again. This one scene sets up right from the off that he is deeply unsettling and has done truly horrifying things to the victims of his games.

- I keep looking for Easter eggs in the toy shop and keep finding nothing lol. Wasted opportunity to have a Trilogic game or something hidden in the background.

- There’s some very dark music that plays frequently which seems to be the Toymaker’s theme. I really like it.

- Very unsettling that the Doctor’s first interaction with the Toymaker is unbeknownst to him. I like that he just stays in the background for a minute before messing with him while he still doesn’t know it’s him.

- I don’t like that the new UNIT building is essentially Stark Tower. That’s much too ostentatious for an organization that’s supposed to keep a low profile. Their building in The Power of the Doctor was already way too big. I don’t know why they seem to have gone very public now.

- I like that Kate is so scared by all of this that the first thing she does is to just grab the Doctor in a hug. Also, nice shoutout to Kate having fought Yetis.

- Mel! 💗 It's so nice to have her here. I haven't seen her Classic stuff yet but I've always adored her from afar, she's so precious. I'm always here for bringing back old friends as long as it's done well. The Doctor's reaction to her is so sweet.

- Sorry to disappoint, Mel, but you’re not the first redhead lol.

- Cool little robot guy. I'd ask why they have him working for them but they also had an alien as their scientific advisor for years, so whatever.

- Very interesting to demonstrate what happens to people's minds by turning Kate's protective armband off. Her tirade over nothing is both funny and frightening.

- The return of newscaster Trinity Wells! Nice to see you, girl. Though I have no idea how UNIT not only created but has already been trying to mass produce and give to the world these Zeedex bands within 2 days for this to even be on the news. Apparently they were an invention of the robotic character the Vlinx but that’s still a bit fast lol.

- I like that Donna was able to figure out the music scale from a perfectly ordinary experience. And lol at having Bonnie Langford sing the arpeggio.

- Considering the implication that having traveled in the TARDIS prevents the effects of this on an individual, I now want fic of every companion who's living in modern day Earth reacting to all of their neighbors and family suddenly losing their crap. Ian and Barbara watching their friends pick loud fights in the streets, Jo seeing every member of her family go mad. Not to mention the characters who either never set foot in the TARDIS at all or not long enough for it to protect them. Poor Liz Shaw somewhere, and Benton and Yates. All of the SJA kids except for Sky since she's an alien, and she'd have to deal with all of them being terrible.

- I like that they have Mel doing some technical stuff since she was supposed to be a computer programmer.

- Glad they gave a reason for why and how Mel is back on Earth lol. Nice shoutout to Glitz while they were at it as well.

- Kate really seems to like offering everybody a job lol.

- Subtle bit of creepiness to the Toymaker that no matter how many of his juggling balls he throws, he's still juggling the same amount of balls.

- I'm glad they had him already know Donna's name. I imagined he would have to but you never know what writers are gonna do. I'm also very pleased that it's immediately acknowledged that the Toymaker is an extreme threat by having the Doctor tell Donna to go back to the TARDIS the second he's realized who it is.

- Heck yes to the brief Hartnell and Gough flashes! It's not only lovely to see them in general but I love the weight that it adds, that they know each other from so long ago, and that those people are still who they both are inside the different faces. You can see Michael Gough's eyes in NPH right here in particular and for a moment I feel I can even see Bill's eyes in David.

- Shoutout to the hidden Joeys in a couple of different places. They're not nearly as visible in the episode as the set pics made it seem but I know he's there.

- Love that he means Hartnell when he says, “When I was young.”

- I like the unnervingness of the endless hallway and all of the doors just leading you nowhere. I can imagine that kind of a trick in the original serial. (In fact I now really want to see that be something they'd have to deal with. I can just hear Steven's huffy, 'Oh, no,' when they realize they're never getting anywhere lol.) The two of them ending up separated is also good stuff.

- I still don't see what invoking a superstition at the edge of the universe has to do with bringing the Toymaker in. It's a really weird and nonsensical reason to give when the only reason you need is that he's finally coming for his rematch.

- Very creepy stuff with the poor man being made into a marionette, as well as the Doctor seeing himself as one. That’s the kind of disturbing factor I was hoping for with this special. There isn't a ton of this kind of thing here and I'd have gone quite a bit darker myself for this whole episode but I appreciate what we have.

- The Toymaker looming above, looking down as he holds the puppet strings is some really good imagery.

- Donna vs the rest of the doll family is very freakish, but I also feel bad for them because there's no way those weren't real people at one point. Particularly disturbing to have Donna rip Sue's head off and kick it across the room, considering. I know she doesn’t know these were people, and even if she did she does have to protect herself somehow, but yikes.

- I love the painted stage backdrops in the middle of absolute black nothingness. I was hoping they'd have this sort of thing, since much of the original is in this sort of broad, void-feeling space.

- I really like this bit where the Toymaker is showing what happened to the previous companions that have been on the show since Donna left. Very chilling to see him be well aware of all of the particulars of these events and I’m glad they went for it in torturing the Doctor with personal pain. It wasn’t as much or as dark as I’d hoped but I like it, and I always like seeing a Doctor acknowledge companions he was with when he had different faces. Very nice to see Ten’s face talk about Amy, Clara, and Bill. Also, nice recap for those who may have stopped after Tennant originally left, and wow, the Moffat era really had a ton of tragic departures. I keep thinking what must have been going through Neil’s head reading about a character who was killed by a bird, and the various insane-sounding reasons from the Doctor as to why these characters are somehow okay despite what happened to them, considering he apparently didn’t know about Doctor Who whatsoever prior to being approached for the role!

- Oh, the shift in the Toymaker’s face when the Doctor challenges him to a game. Stuff just got real.

- It’s so good to see them playing at a table again.

- “I made a jigsaw out of your history. Did you like it?” Not sure what that means unless they’re trying to indicate that he’s somehow responsible for the Timeless Child mythos, or at least for various inconsistencies in the Doctor’s life. I doubt they’d hand-wave away the whole TC arc like that when Russell said he wouldn’t undermine his friend’s work, so I don’t know what to make of this. But if we can ignore that from here on out then that rocks.

- Poor Master, lol. I can only imagine bedraggled and broken Dhawan being offered a chance to live if he played a game, taking the offer, and promptly losing. I want to know how that went down. Apparently very badly, if the price was being trapped inside the Toymaker’s gold tooth. Also, is he aware of what’s going on or is he just sort of in stasis in there? It would be awful for him if he were conscious of everything, but awful results are how the Toymaker operates, so I wouldn’t be surprised. Imagine the Master trying and failing to scream to the Doctor to do whatever he has to to get away.

- Okay, who on earth is this person the Toymaker supposedly didn’t dare play? They’re claiming that he played and defeated God but there’s somehow someone even more powerful that the Toymaker of all people is scared of? “The one who waits”? Jokingly headcanon-ing that it’s Rory until we get anything further on that, lol.

- I mean, the Toymaker ain’t wrong about the issues of the human race in the 21st century 🤷‍♀️ VERY weird to hear him say the word ‘cancel’ though. That originated here on tumblr to my knowledge. Things like that have gotta stop breaking containment, now they’re spreading so far that a character from 1966 is saying them.

- Love the Toymaker’s aghast reaction to Donna saying he’ll just cheat. Though they make it sound like he’s forced to always play by the rules by some sort of cosmic force that binds him. In the original you get the impression that it’s just a matter of principle to him, which I prefer.

- I like that the king on the playing card looks like it could either be Michael Gough or NPH, or perhaps a blurred line between them to represent both.

- Part of me feels like the dancing scene is a bit too far in terms of silliness for circumstances that should be very serious, but it’s also too enjoyable for me to not get a kick out of. They also managed to make it quite dark and threatening, having him appear all over the place, forcing Kate and then Mel to dance, turning the two UNIT men into bouncing balls that still retain the images of their screaming faces and the Doctor telling Kate that they’re dead, and making all of the bullets turn into rose petals therefore showing them all that they’re helpless against him. For something that should come across as ridiculous, it’s actually surprisingly effective. Though I don’t know what it is with RTD and having his big bads dance to girl group songs lol.

- When Kate asks where the guards and staff have gone and the Toymaker just goes, “I think they’re still falling.” Eek.

- Ten really has a thing for offering bad guys to travel with him instead of wreaking havoc lol. But I love that they had him say that the two of them together could be ‘celestial’. Thank you for the little reference and for proving me right again that that’s the context in which we’re supposed to take his title. Also, interesting little moment there where the Toymaker very nearly almost seemed tempted.

- This scene is very quickly ruined, but I like Donna and Mel going to the Doctor’s side to be with him as he regenerates. Very sweet to see two past companions who still love him very much and are willing to put themselves in the line of fire just to make sure he’s not alone. And when the Toymaker comments, “Handmaidens,” it reminds me of the original serial when he comments on Steven’s “adolescent expressions of loyalty”.

- Nice detail that Mel seems a lot more prepared and okay with the realities of regeneration, just comforting him with a smile and not seeming terribly worried whether he’s going to be okay because she knows he will be, she’s seen him in the aftermath of a regeneration before and loved both Doctors she was with. Of course she and Donna are both emotional, but Mel definitely strikes me as more ready to deal with what comes next.

- I’m really mad that this moment is all about to get undermined, because having Ten 2.0’s last words be, “Allons-y,” aka, ‘let’s go’, is incredibly fitting and poignant in contrast to the original, “I don’t want to go.” Why’d they have to go and ruin what could have been a nice, touching regeneration?

- Aaaand here’s the moment that ruins the entire rest of the story for me. Rather than regenerating like normal, the Doctor “bigenerates”, splitting into two of himself so we have both Tennant and Gatwa together. It’s hand-waved with, ‘oh there’s this thing called bigeneration that’s supposed to be a myth but apparently not!’ and then not discussed any further. Russell, you just got back, did you seriously have to already bring a massively disruptive lore change with you? We just had one. I seem to be in the minority, at least on tumblr, but I am not on board with having two Doctors existing simultaneously. It feels more like the Doctor split off a twin. You can’t copy a soul and have two of that soul at the same time. That is not how people work. I keep having to focus on Mel being adorable in the background because the rest of this is aggravating.

- I feel it robs Ncuti of a proper entrance as well. He doesn’t get the same process that every Doctor before him since Troughton has gotten. He’s relegated to splitting off of the fan favorite rather than taking his place as is kinda his right, which could also easily cause people to forever view him as an offshoot and not the proper Doctor. Not to mention the fact that their split also divided articles of clothing between the two of them, meaning Fifteen is left running around in underwear for the entire remainder of the episode. A lot of people seem fine with this but I really think it’s an undignified entrance for the poor guy, and I’m not sure it’s going to age very well either. It would be humiliating enough for any Doctor to start out that way but I can already see people in the future looking back on it as a very degrading introduction for the first black Doctor. My mind also often goes to considering whether certain things would come across the same if it were a woman, and boy, that would not be received well if the new Doctor were a woman having to run around in her underwear as an intro, which means it isn’t really great for a man either.

- I wish I could enjoy the two Doctors excitedly interacting, but that’s the kind of thing that’s only fun or interesting in the usual context of multiple incarnations meeting up from different time periods. This stuff would otherwise be cute, but in the context it’s in, I’m just too uncomfortable to enjoy any of it.

- “Do you come in a range of colors?” is another line that I’m not sure is gonna age well. I’m not sure I like the sound of it now as it is.

- The Toymaker claims he played against the “guardians of time and space” and shrunk them into voodoo dolls. Are we talking Fifth Doctor era Guardians? Poor guys.

- Part of me feels the “ball game” final fight is cool looking (or at least, it’s well-shot to distract me from the fact that it’s not that good; I can’t decide), but the ultimate result is disappointing. It’s pretty unsatisfying to have the Toymaker’s defeat be that he happened to not catch a ball. It makes him look unskilled to just have it graze past his hand when he easily could have stretched slightly further and gotten it. I know people say that his original defeat in the old serial was anticlimactic, but he was defeated because the Doctor was clever. It wasn’t that the Toymaker did anything that would lead to his own loss, it’s not that he wasn’t as clever, it’s just that the Doctor had a good idea and succeeded with it. It was very evenly matched, but somebody has to win even in a very tight game and it was the Doctor. Here, the Toymaker loses because he was unlucky. It wasn’t a victory on the Doctor’s part, the Toymaker just messed up. That doesn’t feel like a satisfying defeat at all because it’s not even a defeat. Everything hinges on the Toymaker somehow not catching a ball.

- Don’t know if that’s the last we’ll see of the Toymaker. It may be the last of NPH playing him at least. I wouldn’t be shocked if they brought the character back for another round some decades down the line, just get him out of the box and dust him off on the rare occasion.

- He says his “legions” are coming, and I believe RTD has said that Fifteen is going to keep facing them. Curious who those will be. I don’t exactly see the Toymaker having armies in reserve somewhere.

- Good for the poor man that he gets to not be a marionette anymore!

- Fifteen: “You can’t save everyone.”

Ten: “Why not?”

Because you go Time Lord Victorious when you start asking that question. Have a Snickers.

- Again, I wish I could enjoy the two Doctors. Fifteen comforting Ten should be a very sweet thing, but this whole thing just feels so wrong to me.

- Well, cue endless speculation on whose hand picked up that gold tooth with the Master in it. That should keep the fandom going for a while.

- ^ Also, ahhh, the various Master laughs when it focuses in on that! I think I hear my beloved Delgado!

- I greatly appreciate all of the Classic references when they’re talking about all of the things they’ve gone through and never stopped to rest after, and all of the people lost.

- Fifteen: “Sarah Jane has gone, can you even believe that for a second?”

Ten: “I loved her.”

Fifteen: “I loved her.”

Owww, official confirmation in TV canon that Sarah Jane is gone by now. I’d appreciated that they had never explicitly said anything like they did with the Brigadier. I loved her, too. 😢

- ^ Also mentioning loving Rose, ahhh. The Doctor has never actually said those words to or about her because he was always an idiot thinking it didn’t need to be said. Finally, a Doctor says onscreen that he loved Rose! 2012 me is pleased.

- Mavic Chen! RTD said he’d be mentioned at some point, but still, there’s a deep cut of a reference! Heck yeah, Hartnell enthusiasts rise.

- “I’m fine because you fix yourself. We’re Time Lords, we’re doing rehab out of order.” Okay, this particular line would seem to imply that at some point when Ten 2.0 eventually regenerates, it will be to Fifteen? That he’s thrown back into the timeline and bigenerates out of himself as Fifteen, thus meaning there’s still just the one Doctor and the timeline aligns itself? Nothing else in this episode indicates that whatsoever, but if that’s what I’m meant to take out of it then it would fix a lot.

- So… they’re seriously saying that he became Ten again for the emotional catharsis of sitting back and living with Donna’s family for a while. Messing up regeneration lore to enable past lives to come back, ignoring that the point of regeneration since its inception is to move forwards, for what is essentially RTD’s fix-it AU fic for his own characters. This continues to feel like it’s RTD’s celebration of his own stuff rather than an overall 60th anniversary celebration. I really want to be happier about having my Ten back, and that Donna gets to remember everything, but so much of the way this has been done leaves a bit of a bad taste in my mouth.

- Aaand oh boy. Here’s the bit where they duplicate the TARDIS. For the sake of argument, say that Fifteen really did come after Ten 2.0 living his life with the Nobles and he’s just thrown backwards in the timeline. If that’s supposed to be the same with the TARDIS, that he’s just bringing it into this time somehow from where it last was with Ten 2.0 prior to his regeneration, then that would be fine. But there is absolutely nothing that indicates this. The takeaway I get is that the TARDIS has been copied. Tennant is going to stay at the Nobles’ and have the original TARDIS on hand so he can still leave sometimes. Gatwa takes off in the copied TARDIS. The Doctor that we’re supposed to be following from here on out is no longer traveling in the very same TARDIS as he always has. If that’s seriously the case, then that’s a GIGANTIC heck no from me. Absolutely not.

- Oh, how I wish I could more properly enjoy this final scene of Ten with the Nobles. On paper it’s absolutely adorable. If they confirm that Fifteen is the regeneration after and not an awkward offshoot, then retroactively I could enjoy this a lot more, but until that potentially happens, I’m still uncomfortable with the two separate Doctors at the same time and therefore uncomfortable with the context of him being here because there was a second Doctor who can keep going instead.

- Would have sworn that the Doctor’s eyebrow story was going to be about Delphon but then he says another name. Oh well.

- I do really like that Mel gets to join in on the Noble family gatherings. Lovely to keep her until the end and that she gets to have sort of a family. “Mad Aunty Mel” 💗

- ^ Also sweet that the Doctor took her to New York in the Gilded Age for a nice little trip at some point in the time skip before this. Mel deserves nice things.

- Why are we saying that Wilf is shooting the moles in the garden? Unless there’s something I’m forgetting where he’s done something like that before, I don’t feel like Wilf would hurt a fly let alone moles. With how hard it was for him to take out his gun after so many years in The End of Time I’m not sure I buy him being okay with shooting anything. Weird note to end on for him.

- Having the Doctor spend most of his time living with the Nobles and resting presents a bit of a Steve-stays-in-the-past-in-Endgame problem in that there’s no way he wouldn’t always be trying to right wrongs around him. Just like Steve would have to ignore every horrible thing he could do something about, including rescuing Bucky who is being tortured out there, any time this Doctor isn’t there when something is going terribly wrong nearby, it means he’s ignoring it while he lounges. That doesn’t sound like him at all.

- And off Fifteen goes, getting ready to go into the Christmas special. I’m worried about it but hopefully it’s better than I think it will be…?

~~~~~

OVERVIEW

Oh, massive mixed bag.

I really like the Toymaker parts of the episode. He wasn’t in nearly as much of it as he should have been and his downfall is disappointing, but the overall writing for him and performance by NPH was fantastic. There’s some very good dark and twisted stuff in here and I’m glad they went for it, even if I would have done even more with it. He is far and away the main highlight of the episode and much of my enjoyment of it is down to him. Mel also plays a considerable role in that, just because I’m thrilled any time an old companion turns up, but I also felt more connected to her, whose stories I haven’t even seen yet, than Ten or Donna somehow. Honorable mention to Kate and Shirley who were also great.

As has been true of all of these, I still just can’t fully emotionally connect with Ten and Donna. I desperately wanted to, and there’s a part of me that did in a way, but nowhere near how it should have been. I feel like I’m insane because on paper there’s nothing even wrong with them and it sure as heck ain’t the performances. But going from a few of their episodes in series 4 in the lead-up and feeling all sorts of strong emotions, that somehow just didn’t carry over to this and I don’t get why. Pacing? Trapped in the poor writing around them? I seriously can’t figure this out, but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to at all. Something is wrong and I don’t know what the heck it is.

And there’s the matter of Ten coming back because apparently that specific incarnation needed a happy ending. I really feel the need to emphasize that I LOVE TEN, but being nostalgic and sentimental isn’t a good enough reason to mess with the regeneration cycle and skip backwards a few lives. Literally the reason they give is that this particular face needed rest (they do say that the Doctor needs rest generally, but they didn’t have to go back to this face to do that — Donna indicates that this face came back so that he could ‘come home’ and be happy.) It feels way too much like favoritism to single this incarnation out in such a big way, and honestly? Ten needed to go when he did. He was becoming someone he wasn’t and it was his time. Of all of the Doctors, his was the one that actually really needed to regenerate, for the sake of his own soul. It was certainly distressing but it was a solid end for him. I don’t feel he needs this do-over to go back and get a happy ending. No one Doctor deserves that over another (though if they did, it would be poor Two whose life was cut short by execution courtesy of his own kind.) I love Ten so dearly but it feels wrong to act like he’s so important that he specifically has earned any of this treatment. I’m beginning to appreciate Tom Baker’s approach of not making multiple comebacks precisely because of his popularity.

For a good chunk of this ep, the writing was pretty good, especially where the Toymaker himself was concerned. But once the bigeneration happened, it was so downhill that it makes me struggle to want to rewatch this even for the good parts. I’m really, really hoping that I’m right and Fifteen is meant to come after Ten 2.0 has already had his lifetime, ditto his TARDIS, because it would largely save this episode for me and because the alternative is completely appalling and I can’t be okay with it. To make matters worse, Russell has claimed that he believes the bigeneration echoed back into all previous regenerations and causing each Doctor to split off from the last so they all get to go on with their own life, that they’re ALL out there in some kind of “Doctorverse”, which is absolutely insane. It defeats the purpose of regeneration: “Times change and so must I,” and, “Life defends on change and renewal.” This completely flies in the face of a critical aspect of the show, that one has to move on eventually. There’s a time for each of these incarnations, but they can’t last forever. It weakens all of these deaths, a good number of which were sacrifices, to claim that they all actually get to live on, and the very idea of it also supports my fear that there’s seriously just supposed to be two Doctors now and we’re supposed to be okay with that. According to Russell there’s a whole ton of Doctors existing simultaneously and that’s supposed to be okay. It’s the definition of bonkers is what it is. I really feel the opposite of all of the ‘RTD saved the show!’ sentiments; it feels like he’s gotten too big for his britches and has returned with a bizarre god complex where he’s wielding way too much power and plans to use all of it however he wishes. He’s single-handedly making me nervous for this entire next era.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BIG PICTURE

Though there are definitely things I liked, particularly the Toymaker and Wild Blue Yonder, there was far too much that I don’t feel good about for me to be able to say I really loved these specials. I probably won’t reblog much of it beyond what I already have and I’m not particularly motivated to rewatch these except in a full-scale series rewatch because I’m not the sort of person who can let myself skip stuff.

I really feel like these should have been either Jodie’s or Ncuti’s. Ten didn’t need to be here, much as I love him. It could have either been a very dramatic ending for Thirteen (though I enjoyed The Power of the Doctor for that) or a very interesting beginning for Fifteen. It would be interesting to see a brand new Doctor have to navigate such intense stuff. And if it had been Thirteen, I honestly feel I may have emotionally connected better because she’s who we’ve been with.

In my perfect world, these would have all had to do with the Toymaker. Have him be woven throughout the first episode (and give that first ep a very different plot than what we got) and then a cliffhanger that reveals him as having been behind it all, leading into two full episodes of fighting against his power. Either keep Wild Blue Yonder, because it’s pretty darn good, and just have it so that my initial thoughts regarding involvement from the Toymaker were correct, or alter it entirely and focus on really delving into who he is and how much danger they’re in. Make them play deadly games. Get some incredibly dark and disturbing visuals and emotional torture in there; show past companions as puppets and dolls (whether it’s really them or not), have them come to life and taunt the Doctor if they’re fake or hauntingly beg him to save them if they’re real, make him face choosing between saving Donna vs other friends, really dig in as deeply and darkly as is possible without permanent consequences like death. Make episode 3 a long battle of wits with lots of intimate time between the Doctor and the Toymaker, with extremely severe personal stakes. Go all out. If you’re going to use the Toymaker again you really should be taking advantage of just how far you can go with a character like this, and the dynamic between him and the Doctor. Give NPH a boatload of screen time and a big, twisted sandbox to play in. Loads of emotionally, mentally, conceptually, and visually dark and disturbing things. They had some very good stuff but there should have been more of it, and even more unsettling, or at least on par with the marionette man and the soldiers turned to balls. If we keep Tennant for this, make the regaining of his face a plot point that was influenced by the Toymaker, something to torture him because Ten was one of the most emotionally volatile and damaged. When regenerating into Fifteen, let it be a normal regeneration, preferably caused by the Doctor needing to sacrifice himself to defeat the Toymaker because he can’t get away like he did before — this time, he really does have to face going down with the Toymaker to succeed. Keep Donna because she’s a prime resource for hitting Ten where it hurts, but have their reunion be orchestrated and the regaining of her memories be more complicated. It shouldn’t be as easy as it was. Have ample time to give full acknowledgment to the stakes involved. If she regains them in the first episode and it feels too easy, make it so that the Toymaker has only made it seem that way, but she’s in serious trouble the longer she goes on with her memory intact. Either tragically make her forget again in the end to save her life and to not completely undo Journey’s End, or make it far more complicated to ensure that she can safely retain the memories. It should only be in the final episode when they’ve fought for it and come out victorious that they can confirm that she’s safe and is able to go on this way. Definitely keep Mel somewhere in here, as well as having other old friends appear in some way or another. In the VERY least, just reference Steven and Dodo, because they didn’t, dang it all, and I ask for so little.

There’s so much that I wish these specials had done, that I wish they’d been. And largely, they just didn’t. For all the good that there was, there was a heck of a lot that ultimately makes it fail as a collective whole, at least for me. I had to put on a Classic story as a palate cleanser after going through all of that again.

#doctor who #dw critical #negativity #60th anniversary #the star beast #wild blue yonder #the giggle #spoilers #dw spoilers

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the-rolls-on-black · 1 month ago

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I'm rambling a lot under the cut about potionomics self insert stuff

I've been trying to keep a more consistent look to my self inserts just so u can be able to point at it and be like hey! It's ashe!

(Because previously I was just doing pink girl and boy blue duos, which was fun! I got to indulge a lot with my masc side! But also not so fun for me story wise haha.)

But I also don't want to reuse themes/ideas! And while I think a princess vibe would go swimmingly with the loan shark vibe of Finn (think.. mafia princess!), it's also like.! Boo, I've already used the princess idea for UTMV bc my main f/o over there is very princely.

The bangs over the eyes is a must, always. And I want to incorporate the bow somewhere too! I don't know if I want to tackle the doll theme onto this one, as my previous two self inserts have been dolls. For the aesthetics, but it's also been like a vent kinda thing where I don't feel like a person?? Not sure. But it felt right. I might not tack it onto this one though.

I'm thinking still of doing something fairytale related because that's my jam! It's been my interest ever since I was little <3 I also gotta fit in with the game's design/overall aesthetic.

I got the physical boxset, so I have the artbook, which is great! I can look thru it for inspo/help.

So..I've already discussed with my partner about my self insert being a baker + bookseller / witch who puts spells on her foods. So there'd be witch + baker theme.

My heart really wants to say go for a red riding hood theme! It's fairytale inspired, and we can throw a basket into the silhouette! The cloak/robe/hood can fit the witch silhouette too perhaps?? I feel like the fairytale vibe also adds into the magical/witch aspect at least a little bit.

At least in pairing with Finn, I think it makes sense, theme wise? He's the big bad 'wolf' to my self insert's little red. Can easily also make him the lumberjack too that saves the day, mix both of them into one.. ah, I'd have to think about it more.

I can also have it where my self insert is a nature witch, and grows most of her ingredients in her garden, they're just tricky. Golden and rotten apples, whichever else. And the ingredients is what causes the food to be of no actual substance?

Do i continue on with the fairytale curse idea? My UTMV self insert is a doll that wants to be human, and she must find true love to do that. Very little mermaid and princess tutu esque inspired, I'm not sure if I should go with that for potionomics. It's fun! I love the trope, I'm a big fan of the older Disney princesses haha. And it wouldn't be out of the question in the universe. I could do the Ole "little red is a wolf too" type thing, and she's been given a human form for a certain amount of time so she can find true love. But then comes the time restraint.. and why is she able to open up/work at a shop during that time? It would work into the nature witch thing at least. BAH.

I'm thinking giving her a long braid that way I can still add the bow at the end without the top part of her design being too cluttered. I can also say this is rapunzel/tangled inspo! But I'm mostly pulling from raiden here bc I'd like to do the glowing hair thing for funsies!

And also for suresies a heart locket somewhere, even if it's not explicitly in the design... it's a must!

Gosh this isn't even including the already set world building the game has. Maybe Maven is the one who cursed her ???? Taking a wolf and turning her human to make her an unwilling servant as a way to selfishly fulfill her wish?? Maven could keep her human, but cursed her to where she would return back to her wolf form if she dared to leave Maven. And now that Maven is "gone", she must find true love to keep her form permanent. GOSH idk, it doesn't really fit the timeline. 😭😭😭😭☹️ I'm sure I'll come up with something.

Ok... I did in fact ramble a lot. Woopsie

#ramble tag

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penname-artist · 1 year ago

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The other day I observed something I hadn't looked at in a bit: my old 'Emergency' series. It was finished a while back, at the end of 2021. And something I realized, while going through it and reposting chapters to Wattpad (just to say it's available in multiple places), is that the me who wrote it was...very different from the me looking at it today.

Specifically, I was a very angry person before I finished that series.

I was mad at the world and at God for a lot of things. A lot of losses, a lot of mistakes. In a sense, Emergency was the fic that I poured my heart into to drain it of those emotions. I grieved through writing a series. And since I've finished it, I haven't written nearly anything quite so dark. Smuttier, definitely, but never anything quite so big, or so painful. Let me remind you that Emergency is a series that includes character murder, other character death, kidnapping, characters bleeding out, active shooters, ghosts, possession, and a lot of extremely emotion-heavy scenes. It was a swan song of its time, but it was no lighthearted story. I dropkicked my grief into it, and it does show.

Which is what makes the separation between the then and now so weird to me.

I do still grieve my losses and my missteps, but not nearly as often, and not nearly as strong. They happen more often like waves, not like whole storms. Even right now, I already know as we barrel through July that I'm getting closer and closer to a time period full of heavy reminders: that it's been two years now since I was forced to remove myself from a server and group of people I was unable to be around safely anymore. Two years is a lot of time, and it still feels like I blinked and it was all gone. So yeah it's going to get heavy again, I'm almost certain that it will, but, somehow, I know I'm going to get through it. I've gotten through every other anniversary date so far, in the threeish years since my first major incident occurred.

Fics still poke through that you can tell have a heavy emphasis on my emotional state. It's one of the best and safest ways I've found to feel my emotions without the need for someone to hear me through it. Emotions are messy, and I don't like leaving them in the hands of others if I can help it. But through the metaphors of Blade and Nick going through a breakup, or Cabbie finishing the job of a horrible person in his childhood, or running away to a new life and a new beginning on a train car, there is a sense of draining those remaining heavy emotions and clearing out the dust and clutter to make room for more important things, and it's helped me immensely to regulate myself in a healthier way.

I'm not the person I was a few years ago, and I'm continuing to grow and change and toss out a few more old things. And I know I have proof of that growth, too. I deleted old messages, songs, poems of 2021. I got rid of some reblogged posts I didn't want to keep up anymore. I reworked my strategies and I'm using a whole manner of effective blocking measures, and trying to learn some better coping mechanisms when I come across names or faces or triggers or anything that will eat at me if I let it. And Emergency is finished. My God that fic is finished. I don't even want to look at it anymore because it's like a time capsule lost to time, it's so messy I would never have the time nor energy to readapt it to the present. It's okay, I've got a lot of new things that are coming out that have just as much significance for their own time periods.

Anyways thank you for indulging with me in this self-reflective spiel of mine. If you've been around for any number of time you've probably grown used to me doing these lol. They're fun to make and discuss. Human adaption and internal evolution is so wild. And it's so cool to observe.

So yeah there's all that. Have a good Thursday folks, and til the morrow.

#personal post #self reflection #my time capsule past is so alien to me sometimes #like i still have diary entries that span as far back at january 2020 #and all those entries are so weird to me because its like me from another universe #this was me before i was traumatized lol #and this is me after! look how emo i became!#anyways i digress

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bngobongobb · 6 months ago

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this is all self indulgent. dadric! featuring a dancing uncle ric. sorry for any typos and my lowercase loving keyboard.

a lil head cannon and lore beneath

kaeric would not have children BUT if he did he would border on being a helicopter parent. Parenting would be the only thing he would study for. It would also be much later in his life. so i gave him a lil grey and some glasses that turn into sunglasses in the sun because he would. He’s all about comfort at this point in his life.

The hardest part would be the chaos which is pretty rich for a wild magic sorcerer. He would eventually learn how to passively herd the child. Big backpack dad alert. He would have backpacks on backpacks on backpacks for the most efficient of spill wiping and quick changes. Fanny pack in the front for his own quick access items.

I imagine he would have a badass little kid. They would be very uptown girl pilled. He would seriously consider using those backpacks with leashes but ultimately decide against it. Overall he values individualism and self expression over his own anxieties.

As for family set up it would be kaeric and Astarion raising the kid with help from grem and gale. Halsin might move in a year or two before they decide to have a kid. I don’t see astarion as a dad but here we are in an au where they both become dads.

Halsin and Kaeric are in a relationship but I don’t see halsin living in a domestic space. They would visit each other six months out of the year. Kaeric definitely likes to nest so halsin might feel a little suffocated by all of the clutter.

I’m writing a short story rn about kaeric and astarion receiving a visit from wyll but he’s brought some kids with him “what?!” So far it’s a lot of shenanigans and fluff. Kaeric ends up having more fun than he expected and i think astarion responds warmly to this new softer side. At that point in their relationship kaeric is very warm already but something about seeing him focus and care for something hits different.

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cowtale-utau · 2 years ago

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Aurum SFW A-Z Take 2 Oops

I was told ‘yes’ so here y’all go XD

(version 1 is here)

Alignment :: What would be their D&D alignment? How might it come into play?

Chaotic Neutral - Chaotic Good. He tends to straddle the line on this one. He isn't above breaking the law or even his own personal codes under "the right" circumstances. He does tend to lean towards helping others but is also prone to self indulgence. He will always prioritize his family over anyone else however.

Beverage :: What do they most like to drink, and why?

He is quite fond of most whiskeys, as well as any obscure alcohols he stumbles upon in his travels.

Co-Habitate :: Do they live with anyone? What’s “need to know” before moving in?

He lives with his brother, whether home in the Hollow, or traveling. He keeps odd hours and is not always mindful of noise levels.

Decor :: What kind of home do they keep? Are there any defining details?

Its an organized sort of cluttered. His brother Viridis cleans regularly, but you can definitely tell which rooms Aur spends most of his time in.

Escape :: What do they do to destress? How successful is it?

Whatever whim hits him at any given time. It rarely actually helps with real stressors, simply delays having to deal with them.

Fluff :: What hits their soft spot? Does anything them into emotional goo?

His brother can get him to do just about anything. He also tends to be weak to an inquisitive mind. Curiosity is something he willingly indulges in himself, but also in others. Expressing genuine interest in his travels and the cultures he's experienced with endear one to him quickly.

Grudge :: How bad does an insult go over? Do they hold a grudge long?

He brushes off most insults/threats/etc with ease and humor. You'd think he simply disregarded it. Don't be fooled. Aurum can hold a grudge for literal centuries and unless atoned for those transgressions will absolutely bite them in the ass eventually.

Hobby :: What’s something they do for fun that might be surprising?

He isn't very good at it, but he loves cooking. Specifically learning regional dishes from native people.

Insomnia :: What’s their sleeping schedule like? Snorer? Sound sleeper?

Erratic at best. He sleeps wherever he lands whenever he's decided he's done for the day. He is a fairly light sleeper unless he knows Vir is awake to keep an eye on things.

Jaded :: Do they buy into the “happily ever after” ideal? What’s their standard?

He both does and doesn't. It happens, but not often and people who tend to assume they found it are fooling themselves. For Aur a true "happy ever after" is being willing to work for it together. Putting in the work to make it the dream.

Kin :: What’s their role among their relations? Do they consider others family?

He tends to fall into the "wild adventurer who is rarely home but always has an amazing story" sort of role. The free spirit. He's great at diffusing arguments when he is around, generally via distraction.

Law :: What do they think about abiding rules? Are they selective about it?

He doesn't particularly care about the law. He'll follow them if they aren't in the way. He does try to be respectful of the rules/culture of the peoples he meets when traveling, but will go against even those if he feels ot necessary.

Magic :: In a magic series or not, are they accepting, or is each instance a shock?

Aur is enamoured with magic and studies any hint of it he comes across.

Network :: Are they connected to the people? How much do they reach out to others?

His travels and ease with connecting means he has a strong international network of people he can contact and rely on for most any task he needs.

Offspring :: What kind of parent would they be? Would they prefer one, or multiple?

He doesn't hate the idea of kids, though it scares him. Would be a very loving, encouraging, parent but maybe not the most responsible.

Pistol :: Is this character skilled with a weapon? What’s their opinion of violence?

He is fairly ambivalent about violence. He doesn't prefer it, but won't hesitate should it be needed.

Question :: How often do they feel doubt? What topics are they defensive about?

Aur comes off as very confident and comfortable about himself. This isn’t exactly true, at all, but he doesn’t give himself time to think about it.

Reminder :: How are they at remembering daily needs? What falls through the cracks?

Not the best. He tends to whatever he feels when he feels it, and has nothing resembling a routine.

Sing :: Do they like music? Do they listen often/sing/hum/play songs in their head?

He loves music and dancing and revelry in general. He's always moving and making noise of some kind.

Touch :: How do they handle contact? Is their personal bubble big?

Fairly tactile, though he'll have moments if strong avoidance.

Upcoming :: How much do they think of the future? Do they make long-term plans?

He does make plans, usually at the prompting of his brother. They aren't usually very reliable however, as he tends to follow whatever whim or mood hits him.

Vice :: What bad habits do they have? Is there something they would be ashamed of?

He isn't particularly ashamed, but he can be a bit of a drinker, and tends to be over indulgent in general.

Wardrobe :: What’s their fashion style? Do they have any staple pieces?

There is a level of expensive refinement and adornment to what he wears, but also wear and age. He likes sturdy but decorative pieces. Lots of embossed leather.

X-Ray :: How’s their health? Any problem areas? Do they take care of themselves?

Remarkably healthy for one so careless. He has a strong constitution.

Yack :: What’s their favorite thing to talk about? What do they go on about?

His travels, the ruins and wilds he's explored, the people he's met, cultures he's experienced. He can chatter in for hours if you let him.

Zodiac :: What’s their astro sign? Does it fit? What would you pick, if it’s unknown?

Sagittarius. It absolutely fits

#Cowtale #CT #UTAU #Aurum #G!Sans #Undertale

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pangtasias-atelier · 3 years ago

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Taking it Natural

Well I can never fully stick to an outline lmao. But, I did manage a lil fic involving just some simple stuff between Cormag and Artur.

Kink stuff is more on the lesser end, cause I wanted to focus a bit more on dialogue and also wanted to write something on the smaller scale of sizes. Also was just fun to write a shorter, simpler story and also one not set in Askr which I need to do more lol

"I am perfectly fine doing the dishes," Artur lightly hums to himself. He scrubs away at the bits and remnants of the day's finished meal. A few pots and pans already on the drying rack alongside the ladles, said dishes preemptively cleaned before dinner had even been eaten, he washes the clutter of used dinnerware. His back facing Cormag, his partner currently sits at the couch.

"I'll go check on Genarog then," His voice comes out strained. Completely leaning against the couch, Cormag's stomach continues its prolonged harassment towards its owner. His stomach is a cacophony of churning and gurgling noises, the overworked, stuffed gut letting it's discomfort be known. Despite his declaration of performing a chore, he simply remains seated with his head leaning back. His lips are parted as he languidly recovers enough energy to catch his breath.

"I already fed him and made sure he's comfortable in his stable," Arthur places a plate on the drying rack beside the just washed cutlery and glassware. His still soapy hands reach for the next plate to scrub at.

"Ah," Cormag's strenuous breathing remains the same. He keeps his eyes closed as a way to block out any possible external discomfort besides his tumultuous tummy. "Then I'll…" Cormag trails off with a groan. A few extra pants and wheezes come out as his gut seems to give him an extra angry complaint. "Then I'll-"

"You can wait on the couch. I am fine, Cormag," The last plate cleaned and set aside to dry, he dries his hands on a dish towel, the damp cloth adorned with miniature wyverns. Turning around, he smiles as he gets an eyeful of Cormag's sorry stuffed state.

Cormag retiring from being a soldier, he had instead taken up woodworking once he and Artur decided to live together. His new line of work requiring a different, less intensive set of skills, the sudden change of constant routines and fighting to meticulous, long periods of time sitting while carving was a sudden change for his metabolism and appetite. The lack of much activity affecting his physique was only compounded by Artur's task of taking care of the house's chores. Cormag had already been aware of Artur's proficiency in the culinary arts through their occasional picnics back when the two had first begun a relationship, yet the latter's constant practice through cooking everyday left his prowess in the kitchen to something to truly be proud of. Cormag having a generous fill of food every meal of the day, his indulgence of Artur's cooking hadn't moved quite past an extra helping or two every go around. Although, even those generous extra helpings helped plump and widen his waistline to a body type rather past stocky and into fat guy territory.

Clothes upsized just as his body upsized, his maroon t-shirt does a sufficient job in covering Cormag’s sun kissed skin. His compact yet soft pile of squishy fat for a stomach curves outwards as it ever so gently slots itself on top of his doughy thighs. Pressed up against his shirt, the malleable tummy barely covers any of Cormag’s lap, enough space for Artur to be comfortably seated atop him still. The two fleshy legs seem even wider as he sits, the bunched up fat splaying a slightly extra amount from resting on the couch. Cormag’s pants do their best in perfectly covering the two, the waistband even widened as well to not uncomfortably squish against Cormag’s hips. The center of his gut juts out more than his squeezable love handles, Cormag’s rotundness more pronounced. The stuffed mass seems to taunt Artur, his eyes finding themselves often drifting back towards the perfectly rubbably surface. Cormag’s sizable chest makes itself comfortable on top of his stomach, the handful of breasts splaying a bit to the side from the accumulation of fat. His pronounced chest only helps make Cormag seem extra wide, Artur always feeling rather twiggish next to his plump teddy bear of a husband. Though the lightly tanned moobs are offered enough room from Cormag’s spacious shirt to not be so confined and pressed up against the fabric. Cormag’s biceps are no more, the somewhat, albeit nicely, defined biceps coated in a plush, warm layer of fat. The plump appendaged perfect for a nice, crushing yet comforting hug, Cormag’s arms had always been a secret favorite of Artur’s. Cormag rests his arms on the cushiony back pillows, the bottom heft of his arms squishing ever so slightly against the surface. His face at the very center of his arm span, Artur can only see the fleshy double chin connected to Cormag’s lovably wonderful kissable face. Though he can very much hear his love’s taxed breathing even over the angered grumbling coming from his gut.

“Oh, Artur,” Cormag’s arms wobble for a few moments; the two doughy appendages struggle as he tries to push himself up despite his body’s protests. “Give me, hah, a minute,” His rotund body expands with each great, deep breath he takes.

“No worries,” Artur sits himself beside Cormag. His lap calling to him, he’d feel like a monster causing him anymore discomfort. “I’ll wait beside you,” Artur pats Cormag’s thigh.

“Heh,” Cormag lets out a small chuckle, the only response he can give before he has to take a few more breaths to help relieve the heavy pit of pain resting in his gut. “I really ate like a pig,”

The faint warm onset of a blush on Artur’s face blossoms on his face, the healer always getting a tinge of embarrassment whenever Cormag even offhandedly mentions his size or eating habits. “Perhaps. But, I should learn to stop cooking so much. I just think of something nice for us to share and so I kinda just make it,” Artur tosses a noncommittal shrug at the end, a few awkward laughs thrown in as well as if he hadn’t confessed his unique admiration in the way Cormag’s body plumped out. A few extra pounds looking rather dashing on his tall figure which would only look more handsome if those few extra pounds swelled into a dozen or perhaps even a hundred before Cormag was resting at a sizable 300 pounder of a man.

“Maybe. Guess we both should learn some restraint,”

“Perhaps,,,” Artur nearly reaches for Cormag’s aching gut to soothe the beast before thinking better of it. “I have a salve that should help,” Without waiting for any confirmation, Artur goes to the closet full of his supplies. Herbs able to help cure maladies unlike staves, he rummages through the several jars and boxes he has. Though only Artur would consider his neat, organized setup a mess requiring rummaging, Lute always interested in his tidy organizational skill. Having fetched the ointment, he stands in front of the seated Cormag. “This has to go directly on your skin,” He tosses the lower hem of Cormag’s shirt up. Applying a dollop of the ointment on his hands, he wastes no time in getting them all over Cormag’s stomach.

“You’ve never needed an excuse to do this stuff before,” The salve immediately begins to work its magic on Cormag. His labored breathing slowly begins to take on a more natural pace and the evident discomfort on his face washes away. “You sure do know your way around there,” Cormag even shifts around on the couch, his stomach no longer threatening to self-destruct from the slightest jostle.

Artur drops his head in mirthful laughter, Cormag’s surprising silly teasing always getting to him. “I have rubbed your stomach how many times, Cormag?” His hands drift on over to Cormag’s love handles. Standing above Cormag, he grabs on to the chunky handles as he leans down for a kiss.

“Not enough, knowing you,” Cormag whispers as they part.

“Then you truly do know me,” Artur retorts. Cormag’s stomach is no longer a ticking time bomb, so he figures it’d be fine to sit in his favorite spot. He gently lowers himself down onto Cormag’s lap. His soft squishy, tummy rests comfortably against his back.

“If you had this kind of stuff laying around, why use it only now?”

“Well- I,,,” Artur considers his next words for a moment. “I felt bad with how much I stuffed you tonight. I may have gone overboard so-”

Cormag promptly cuts him off with a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t force me to do anything. You’re cooking is great. I tell all my clients about your cooking. They kept hounding me about your recipe for those cookies you always make to butter them up,”

“Ah,” Artur turns bright red as he recalls the high praises from all of Cormag’s clients, a few even inadvertently referring to Cormag’s weight upon said praises. “Well, I also didn’t use this because I didn’t want you to feel like I only cared about stuffing you and getting you fatter,”

“I’m gonna have to get up for this one,” Rising up, Cormag makes sure to help Artur up first. “Look at me,” He grabs Artur’s shoulders. Artur shorter by a few inches, he feels miniscule right now. “If I ever have any problems with my weight, you are going to be the first person I tell. We’ve known each other for years before I started gaining weight,” Cormag brings Artur to him, wrapping him in a bear hug. Artur’s arms are ensnared by Cormag’s own doughy arms. Though he knows his arms wouldn’t be able to wrap around him regardless. His feet rise off a few inches from the ground as Cormag holds on to him. Cormag begins to chuckle, his heart always aflutter with Artur in his arms. The ring of laughter catches onto Artur, the two laughing together. They remain like so for a few minutes, neither speaking.

Eventually, Cormag lets Arthur back down. A hefty sigh escapes his lips from the minimal amount of activity. “And if you ever have any problems with my weight, then let me know,” Cormag holds onto Artur’s hands, rubbing the palm of them with his thumb.

“Of course. But I don’t think I could ever have a problem having such a handsome husband.”

“Unfortunately for you, my husband is more handsome than yours,” Artur snorts from Cormag’s reply. His hands find their way to Cormag’s arm for a light slap.

“I guess you win then. But, thank you. Neither of us have done this, so I wanted to make sure we’re going at a natural pace for the both of us,”

“Taking it nice and slow is my preference. Enjoying the travel is just as important as the destination or however you say it,” An idea sparking in his brain, Cormag devilishly grins, his plump cheeks dimpling. “Let’s enjoy the scenic route some more,” Cormag leans slightly down. He gently whispers in Artur’s ears before resting his lips on his partner’s.

Artur grinning, he merely murmurs in hushed agreement as Cormag kisses him, the crackle of joy feeling just as natural as their first kiss, the two ready to indeed enjoy Cormag’s current size and take things naturally, wherever it might lead.

#Cormag is kinda hard to write but I hope this is somewhat close #I just imagine him eing actually kinda dorkish with someone he's comfortable lol #my writing #fat fiction #fat!Cormag #fat!Sacred Stones #maleweightgain #male weight gain

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obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts · 4 years ago

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Sort of a crack ask but, How do you think nonyandere brothers would react to a reader who also technically steals stuff from the brothers, but in a different and very specific way. Like, mammon steals material possessions and sells them, but she waits until one of the brothers is out for the day and uses their bathroom. Using asmos fancy products, or enjoying a full submerge in Levi's fucking HUGE bathtub. None of them are safe- if they have a private bathroom, it's only a matter of time.

I don't think I'd really count this as stealing? Maybe breaking an entry lmao. So I'm going to say this is "brothers reacting to an MC who breaks into their bathroom." Thank you for the interesting ask anon 💞

Also this is assuming all the boys have private bathrooms.

Lucifer

Doesn't really mind you using his bathroom.

Just please, please, tidy up afterwards.

Everything has a place. Leaving your towels on the floor, not putting your clothes in the hamper, and uncapping the soap bottles is going to piss him off.

But otherwise, go ahead, just don't get pissed when he needs to use his bathroom.

(Def the kind to brush his teeth while you're in the bath or whatever. Very domestic.)

Has been known to join you in the tub/shower.

Mammon

His bathroom has a lot of unesscisary (expensive) junk.

There's a lot of exotic self-care items, most of which he's never opened, so it's a fun place to explore.

He doesn't really mind.

(Tbh he kinda enjoys seeing you mess around with all the weird luxury stuff he's coveted. It makes him feel like he's providing.)

But he'll act like you're the biggest bother.

Rarely ever joins you when you're messing around, but loves to take pictures.

Leviathan

Y'know who totally uses their obnoxiously large bathtub the least?

This guy.

Levi is too busy to actually bathe.

So you don't really have to worry about him walking in on you.

All this aside, he doesn't like when you use his bathroom without telling him.

He goes all blushy knowing you were in his tub bathing.

Satan

His bathroom is cluttered.

He'll always know you've been in there because something will have been knocked over.

So you can't really sneak in and use it.

Doesn't mind you using his bathroom at all tbh.

Just know that it's his bathroom. He has first dibs.

Is not afraid of joining you in the shower.

(Side note, do not use any product that is not labeled as soap or lotion. He has a bad habit of just leaving things places.)

Asmodeus

Asmo actively encourages you to use his bathroom, with or without his presence.

He likes to spoil you! He can't help it!

You can use whatever you like.

(And if he notices you gravitating towards something, he buys one just for you!)

Kinda picky about how you put things away though.

Leaves notes for you on the bathroom counter about cute new products he found.

He will always join you in whatever pampering you're indulging in!

Beelzebub and Belphegor

They share a bathroom, we all know this.

And despite how nicely decorated their bathroom is, there isn't much there.

They don't have fancy face creams or hand lotions, everything is unscented (because Beel is often tempted by the smell), and they only have a shower (in fear that Belphie might fall asleep in the bath).

Beel tends to jump everytime he randomly stumbles across you (or Belphie) in the bathroom.

The man just isn't expecting it! All he wanted to do is take a shower after a work-out.

Belphie has the opposite reaction though. He doesn't really care if you're in the shower or not.

You're better off just invading everyone else's space.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me mammon #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me luficer #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me shitpost

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starsarestars · 3 years ago

Note

❤️ for Winona or 🏡 for Wren (I cannot decide) pleeeeeeaseeee and thank you 🥰

I’m so self indulgent and annoying that I’m doing both at once:

Wren lives in an apartment above the coffee shop he helps his family run, meaning that the place is (more often than not) absolutely reeking of coffee, but there’s the odd twinge of sandalwood and turpentine. There’s plants all over the place and he should really move the ones that drape his bed because he keeps getting hit in the face every morning, but he hasn’t quite got around to it. Most of the time the place is in a state of controlled chaos - It’s cluttered, but he’s familiar with the mess, can navigate his way through it and he knows where everything is. Save for whatever Punk B-side or old 70s film soundtrack is playing, the only thing you can really hear in the flat is Wren humming along to whatever’s playing and the sound of Bubbles trotting through the flat while grumbling. Wren will not shut the fuck up about Criterion Collection films, David Lynch or Suspiria (but will conveniently forget his stint on Degrassi as an extra when he was 13 in which he got ran over by a bus and was permeated through flashbacks for a good five episodes.) His inclinations towards pretentiousness means that there’s shelves lined with all these really brooding and thought provoking films but he’s got a box dedicated for the self indulgent ridiculousness he’s not supposed to like which he will frequently pore through (who doesn’t love Bridget Jones?) Most of the time he’ll either be painting, pawing at his record collection or out for the count on the couch while cuddling up with Bubbles after a shift.

I’d be lying if I said things with Winona and Henrik start relatively easy or in the Villa itself. They instead start all the way in a Caravan Park in North Wales where a four year old Winona lives with her grandparents. By mere coincidence do Henrik’s family go to this park every summer as the cost of renting a caravan for the summer there is dirt cheap. Since she was raised by her Grandparents and wasn’t really around many kids, socialisation and making friends with people her age proved to be a struggle - the reach of her grandparents' influence extended to her not wanting to play games with the other kids in fear that her knees would give out and how she’d horrified Henrik the first time they’d ever met by saying that she’d soon be turning five “if the lord will let me live to see it.” When he asked her how old she was.

Winona was a gifted kid and had a lot of pressure to be this intelligent go-getter, she was expected to seek out independence as quickly as possible and although at first she really liked it and thought it made her more mature there wasn’t much room for her to be a kid and that made the time they’d spend together all the more important. It was the first time in her life she could actually be a kid and have fun and because of how easygoing he is, he draws out a silliness in her and she draws a more serious side out of him. Winona had a habit of abusing the fuck out of her provisional drivers license to drive all the way to the Isle of Wight to visit him and as Henrik would point out, there’s never been a birthday since they’ve met which they haven’t spent together. He’s a stalwart at every Visit to Winona’s family in Greece and if the mere possibility of him not being able to come arises, the absolute kick off from them is ridiculous like you’d honestly think someone died. Same applies for the Bergströms - Henrik’s Nana has been mastering her Princess Cake recipe and Winona will be damned if she isn’t getting a massive slice when she’s there.

The two of them have weathered a lot of stuff over the past few years - serious relationships, break ups, major stressors and career changes, pivotal moments and now they’re at that awkward stage where he’s a Climbing and Wilderness Survival instructor who drinks Seamoss for the flavour and she’s a beleaguered Primary school teacher whose side hustle is a podcast in which she talks about her extensive vibrator collection and how much she’d want to shag a pixie while her roommate looks on in horror. There’s a lot of yearning, pining and crushing which ultimately goes nowhere until Lily signs Winona up for love island and Winona sends Henrik this elaborate five paragraph text before she leaves (which is absolutely memed and copypasta’d post-show) which kicks off the plot of Primary. because now Henrik is wondering what the fuck his best friend is playing at going on something like Love Island when she’s already the countdown champion of 2016, just what he feels for her and how he’s going to tell her all this.

When the two of them actually get together it’s mostly awkward (the five paragraphs is a lot to take in - Did she really have to throw in a Gemma Collins quote?) and now they’re running around like headless chickens all “what the fuck do we do now? How the hell do we go from friendship to being romantic like obviously we want it but holy shit how do we go about it?” And they’re just panicking completely struggling to kiss and act romantic like normal people meanwhile everyone else is like “dear fucking god the intensity, the passion, the deep love they have for each other 😔🤚.” But because they’re so well acquainted with each other and their best (and worst) habits, the dynamic between them romantically is usually silly and they can poke fun at each other while knowing each other's boundaries and never going out of their way to push them. The love and care they have is immense and it’s especially so when they get together romantically - there was always signs of it when they were friends as the hugs would always linger and they’d get all smiley, but now they’re very affectionate and more often than not Henrik will drop off Winona’s lunch for her and they’ll always gush about each other to anyone who’ll listen. They’re very supportive of whatever they pursue and there’s no pressure to be anything or fulfill an idea of what they’re meant to be, it’s easygoing and there’s a familiarity to it that makes it so much easier and more intrinsic to them.

If that doesn’t seal it, the fact that Henrik is the only person in the world allowed to touch the Countdown teapot on the mantle probably does.

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didilysims · 3 years ago

Note

Are you going to continue Pine Lake? Or is the reminiscing just for fun? (It is fun though)

I'm glad you are enjoying the reminiscing, Anon. It's a very self-indulgent exercise so I have zero hard feelings about anyone blocking the tag, but if it's interesting to you, that's good to hear! To answer your questions, well...long answer ahoy!

I would really like to get back into playing Pine Lake. I have a round and a half yet that I have all the pictures and some notes but never posted, so I might do that once I've finished going through the whole kit and caboodle.

The main reason why I stopped playing this neighbourhood (and TS2 in general) is because I had some major (but positive) changes in my life that took a lot of time to organize, and in my sporadic free time, I couldn't wait around for long loading times. There are also a few frustrations I've had with Pine Lake that are giving me an itch to rebuild it again...

Too much CC: a downloads cleanup started literal years ago and has not yet been completed because it completely saps my energy

Pink flashing: likely connected to the first point, but also I have some over-cluttered lots that like to crash

Vacation locals that refuse to stay in the vacation 'hoods. This is such a small thing but gives me so much frustration because I've tried every way I know how to fix it and nothing works! This is the number one reason I am tempted to rebuild...yet again. :/

'Hood terrain limitations: I have a specific vision of my perfect Pine Lake terrain and I have attempted to create it in SC4 but, 1) I'm not very experienced with SC4, and, 2) I find I just can't fit everything I want into this terrain, which is similar to the gripes I have with the current terrain I'm using: it's just too small! I could add a sub-hood, but I really want everything to stay together...

Basically I'm just getting too picky and that itself is a frustration. It seems I can't play anymore because everything seems like a chore.

Back to lack of time again: I feel so woefully behind on this website, and often feel kind of guilty queuing stuff up while ignoring all the posts that others are putting out. I'm trying to catch up with one person at a time but it's slow going.

Sorry to sound like I'm complaining a bit, but it's hard to dive into the game again when it feels too overwhelming to be fun right now. I am fairly sure I will come back to playing the neighbourhood again one day, because although this is my longest break yet, I've always gone back to it after every other break I've taken, and I've invested a lot into this challenge that I want to see through. However, I also am craving something simpler, especially in terms of the look and style of the game and a much smaller CC collection. Sometimes I want to just start it all over and see what happens, but I also really want to know what happens to the Sims I've gotten so attached to--especially with gen 3 coming into their own!

Basically, this is a very long-winded way of saying I don't know when I will get back into Pine Lake again, but I would very much like to...one day. The nights are getting cooler, so maybe when the weather keeps me indoors more, I'll be more inclined to sit at the computer longer and sort some of this out.

#ask #anonymous #pine lake talk

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faustonastring · 5 years ago

Note

Could I get headcanons for the main six with mc who is obsessed with stuffed animals?

Thanks for requesting I hope you like it :)

Request are open! :))

Main six with an mc who is obsessed with stuffed animals

Asra

He thinks it’s the cutest thing in the world

Every time he travels away from you, he always brings you one back that represents where he traveled (a modern day example would be a teddy bear with a sombrero to represent Mexico, (just so you get the picture)) he also gets to them as presents for birthdays and holidays anniversaries

In a modern au, you both more or likely have a beanie baby collection hiding somewhere in the shop, you both probably brought another beanie baby snail so you could recreate the “snesbian”(snail lesbian) wedding you saw on tiktok

Early in you’re relationship (pre-upright) before he can take you on trips with him he finds it really comforting to know that you have a cuddle buddy or two to keep you company while he’s away, but after you’ve been together for a while (post-upright) don’t be surprised when you wake up and all your stuffed animals are on the floor (that is if you sleep with them of course!)

I also really like the idea of asra trying to make you a stuffed animal for your birthday or anniversary, or any other celerbration (something a like his Faust trinket you can get from the wheel, just a little more improved, )

Apologies in advance for the angst BUT If you’ve had this obsession pre-memory lost, when you’re,,,, y’know (trying to keep this as spoiler free as I can for some of the new guys!) he clutches on to it every night while he’s trying to sleep, crying out you’re name, (and probably uses it in his studies to try to get you back,) and post-y’know, he brings it with him during all his trips because of how much he hates being away from you, and if you’ve grown fond of that one, he’ll bring another one you like a lot, he feels bad but he can’t help it, he just misses you so much

Also some of you are gonna hate me for this but piggy backing off of that angst I just wrote, imagine Julian and asra in the shop, doing...their....studies..(if you know you know) and Julian just sees the stuffed animal in the bed and asks why asra has it (and being himself try’s to make a joke about asra needing to sleep with a stuffed animal, when he can just sleep with him instead-) and asra just kicks him out, and they never talk about it again.

Nadia

She’s on it. She’ll ask you a million questions, “what kind do you like, do you need to sleep with any, do you want a custom one, or a spefic kind?”

Her room is so cluttered with stuffed animals by the end of the week, that she makes you pick out you’re favorite one (which quickly turns into ten or twenty) and the rest go to their own separate room in the palace, where they’re put on display, and easily accessible for you to switch out with any of the ones In you’re too, that you’re bored with

In a modern au I feel like Nadia would also be on bored for collecting beanie babies, but unlike asra who’s only in it for the snesbian wedding she wants all of the rare ones doesn’t matter how much they cost, she has them, it’s not even about you at this point, when Nadia gets a kick you just gotta let her ride it out.

I think it’s canon (or atleast close to canon) that Nadia loves to design clothes, I mean we all know she loves to tinker, but I think she’ll find it really relaxing destining new stuffed animals with you and clothes for some of the ones you already have if you’d want (and yes. She makes matching ones for you and you’re favorites)

If you do sleep with them, Nadia might find it a little hard to sleep with all the clutter around the bed so she’ll thoss the ones your not cuddling off the bed (or if she’s having a real sleepless night, she’ll throw them across the room) but nonetheless if you’re happy she’s happy, she’ll never get agitated at you for having your own interest (despite tripping over like three of them while trying to start her day)

Also I feel like atleast one of Nadias sisters had that stuffed animal phase as a kid, if you know baby....then you know so I feel like it’s really refreshing for her to be able to keep stuffed animals around without having to hear someone scream and whine because they couldn’t get the one they wanted

Julian

The day after you tell him he brings you a doctor teddy bear, wearing a hand-sewn eye patch witch Portia more or likely helped him make (note that I said helped he wanted to try to make it on his own... but surgical stitches are a lot diffrent from things such as cross stitches,,,, and the fabric is just a lot more flimsy then human flesh)

He likes to bring you ‘fun’ ones as he calls them, teddy bears dressed as pirates, doctors, flappers, any kind that matches you’re faveroite animal, pigs decked out in fancy clothes (the vesuvia verson of Miss piggy) espically if he knows you like them, he would do anything to see you laugh and smile, especially if it’s from one of his gifts, it makes his heart jump

In a modern au, you could spend your quality time making fun of the ridiculous beanie baby prices, but for the love of god please don’t say you find a beanie baby who’s highest bidding price is over one hundred dollars cute, because HE WILL bid on it and the price DOESNT MATTER (also- self indulgent but If you have a furby espically the older ones, it will freak Julian the hell out, and he will quickly turn it so it’s not looking at him every time he enters a room)

Every time you travel together he checks all the touristy gift shops for a stuffed animal you like, and will happily buy you any type you like, and it doesn’t matter how big it is. He WILL make it fit in his suit case, even if it means he has to leave a couple pairs of shoes behind.....

If you sleep with any of you’re stuffed animals he doesn’t mind, I mean sure he ends up laying on a couple of them, and the do end up getting tangled in his limbs, but he finds it cute and is willing to make a sacrifice, and if he were to come in late from working overtime and caught you sleeping cuddling the doctor teddy bear he gave you....with the eyepatch that he helped make....he wouldn’t want to disturb you... so he pulls up a chair and watches you sleep in the least creepy way possible

If you two are ever trying to do the do and your stuffed animal is In the room... or even better facing towards the bed... I think it would make Julian the slightest bit uncomfortable but would just laugh it off and say something along the lines of “I didn’t know we had and audience” or “looks like we have a guest” which would be terrifying if he were to say that mid-ya know

Portia

You two vibe so hard

Out of everyone I feel like she is definitely the most enthusiastic and chill about having stuffed animals in her cottage, and I mean sure they’re everywhere and she’s tripped on atleast six of them... but as long as pepi doesn’t get too any of them( again) you’re fine

I like to imagine she has something (other than Julian) that survived the ship wreck with her, wether that be a blanket or a stuffed animal (for the sake of this head canon it’s a stuffed animal) that she holds very close to her yes this is very unlikely given, well all the factors but she deserves something, and if your really against that idea, a little stuffed animal Julian gave her when she was a kid before he left

I can’t keep headcanoning that every one has a thing for beanie babies in a modern au, even though she has a snesbian wedding in her garden with a snesbian officiant which she photographs and gets tiktok famous off of.... she’ll be more into anything Sanrio related, like don’t leave this girl alone in round one because she’s already spent 150 trying to win the rilakkuma stuffed animal that’s riiiiight over the edge (after many many try’s, she does win it, and gives it to you)

She is the type to sew, or crochet, or even knit you stuffed animals, and those are usually the ones she ends up giving you, if not? They definitely were handmade from somewhere, probably a small shop or from an old lady selling them at the heart district

If you sleep with stuffed animals....well good news because so does she! Throughout the night not only are you to fighting for the blanket (if it’s during winter) but now you’re fighting over the stuffed animals, and every night as soon as one of you says you’re going to bed, it’s a race to see who can get to bed first and hog all the stuffed animals, (which may lead to a pillow fight if you’re lucky)

One time pepi tore up one of you’re faveroite stuffed animals and Portia felt so bad about it that she not only made pepi her own toys to play with, but sewed up your toes up one, and if it was beyond repair, she would make you an identical one

(Also Portia is the type to spend 100 dollars at a carnival trying to knock the milk bottles down so she can win her s/o a cheap stuffed dog that pepi is gonna claw into anyway...but it’s the thought that counts :’) )

Muriel

Does. Not. Understand. But hey! He’s trying~! A+ for effort right?

He wants to make it clear that it’s NOTHING to do with you, he finds it ADORBALE! He really really does and he’s trying hard to express that but depending where you are in your relationship with him....makes a little bit of a difference, so for the sake of the headcanon muriels headcanon is gonna be soon after his upright endeding so expect some assumptions about his character but I do know that people just don’t change over night so one things for sure....he still doses to fully understands soft nice things

I think Muriel likes to hear you talk, like sure he prefers the quiet, but out of everyone in the world, your the only person he doesn’t mind listening to (how sweet! ) so he probably asks you a lot of questions, but not necessarily like Julian, more questions that ask why you like them, because he wants to like them too, and you want him to like them too, but you do still have some work ahead of you

In a modern au.....build a bear dates @lisa-frank-cave did a headcanon on it a while back that I REALLY liked, it is a little buried so if you’re having trouble finding it lmk and I can reblog it for you, but atleast visits their page and look for it because their stuff is super good! :) so for sure go check out their head canon for it if you want something more in depth but to just elaborate my thoughts on it, it’s just something the two of you could do together (and I feel like Muriel loves spending time with you no matter what activity it is) I also feel like he’d like being able to make something with you, which works out great if you can’t whittle to save you’re life,,,and I dunno,,,it just makes me soft,,,,

I don’t like the head canon that Muriel has bug clumsy hands, he can whittle for gods sake! And used to make masquerade masks for asra to sell pre-plague times, (and made his own in every route but his own) so I feel like Muriel would atleast attempt ONCE to sew or crochet you a stuffed animal, it’s a little tragedy looking, and over time it starts to fall apart at the seams, but he made it for you, and seeing you love it so much let’s him know all his hard work payed off, and he’ll make you another one or two

He doesn’t mind if you sleep with stuffed animals, but he apologizes in advance if they get crushed (the bed is barley big enough for the both of you) and gets a little jealous if you’re cuddling you’re stuffed animal instead of him, he won’t say anything but he’ll for sure get pouty about, and as cute as he is when he’s pouty make sure you don’t cuddle you’re stuffed animals more than him, because if you do it will start to get to him if you know what I mean

Also refuses to have sex if stuffed animals are on the bed or facing the bed, if they’re on the bed, he’ll throw them off, facing the bed, he’ll turn them around, he just doesn’t like the idea of being watching while being intimate with you

Lucio

If I’m being honest will make fun of you a tiny bit at first (he’ll stop he he strikes a nerve) but soon finds the appeal

Mama morga didn’t let him have stuffed animals growing up, for a while there she didn’t even want him sleeping with a blanket, so he’s alllll over this, but yeah you’re stuffed animals are cute, but he wants a spefic type of stuffed animals.... next thing you know Lucio says he got some stuffed animals for you two to share, and it’s just about 30 diffrent variations of goats. But hey! Atleast he offered to share!

In a modern au I feel like lucio would be overly enthusiastic to go to build a bear that he nearly crushes a kid with his knock off red bottoms trying to get in there, dragging you behind him, then impatiently rushes the whole process not making too enjoyable for you (depending on who you are of course) but lucio just seems to be having fun! (Also goes on a Saturday afternoon and they are like four kids celebrating their birthday and a line that goes out the door, unlike Muriel who goes early Sunday morning or Tuesday night to beat the crowds)

He personally likes anything goat related, but also likes custom made ones made with red velvet and and gold stitching, and will happily buy you or get any kind you want customed made, and on you’re birthday? When you wake up in the morning the room is covered with all diffrent typed of stuffed animals, and lucio is beaming proudly in the middle of it

If you sleep with them then no problem! Lucio would too! But if he catches you cuddling a certain stuffed animal more than him then it might just....disappear for a while...but if he sees you upset or worried that you can’t find it, don’t worry! It will reappear again.... or something very similar to it.....

One time Mercedes and Melchior tore up one of you’re favorite stuffed animals (again) so lucio had them kicked out of his bedroom...or so he said, what really happened is while he was waiting for your replacement to come in, he wanted to act all tuff and kick Mercedes and Melchior our to assert his dominance, but secretly still played with them and let them back in you’re room when you weren’t around. You know. But you pretend that you don’t

Thanks for reading if you would like something more spefic welll.....

My request are open! :)

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nomazee · 4 years ago

Text

scatterbrain

bokuto koutarou x reader

word count: 2200+

content: fluff, friends-to-lovers, pining bokuto, ooc bokuto.

(i’m in such a bokuto mood rn so i wrote this!! i did NOT expect this to get this long but oops!!

bokuto is probably,,,VERY ooc in this but this is really just self-indulgent fluff!! hope you enjoy! <3)

(also!!! quick reminder!! my requests are open!! my request rules can be found linked in my navigation which is my pinned post!! feel free to request <3)

☾.:°∗★.:☆:.★∗°:.☽

contrary to popular belief, bokuto thinks. he thinks a lot. granted, a lot of his thoughts are devoid of any deep meaning, like the possibility of taming a wild owl and keeping it as a pet, or the question of whether he should get two or three meat buns after practice.

bokuto thinks a lot. he knows this. his mind gets very cluttered sometimes with various random topics. that’s why when his mind started becoming a cohesive conversation of one solid topic, something was wrong. very wrong.

he started thinking about you. a lot.

when he first realized it, he figured he should look into it--find out what caused him to have his mind flooded with thoughts of you, your smile, your eyes, your hair, your hands, your voice and nose and lips--

then he realized that he already knew very well why he thought of you so often.

almost comically, he smiled to himself and thought, “well, i guess that’s that!” and resolved to never approach the subject again. confident as he could be on the court, bokuto was sure that if he ever tried to take action about his feelings, the result was sure to be disastrous. it was best to stay away from any fantasies of his.

that was hard to do, though, when you seemed to occupy both his thoughts and his day-to-day life.

you were in the same class--that was just his luck--and while you weren’t an official manager you had a tendency to stop by practice and watch the boys play while chatting with yukie and kaori until it was time to go home.

(he also often walked you to the train stop. fate really made the stars align when he didn't want them to align.)

though, he had to owe it to fate for allowing your seats to be on separate sides of class. at the very least, he had that relief from the constant pressure he applied on himself absentmindedly whenever he was in your presence.

during lunch, bokuto sped out of the classroom door and in a direction away from the cafeteria. you seemed to notice this quite quickly and darted to chase after him.

bokuto felt a warm, firm hand on his shoulder and the distant scent of peppermint. he cursed himself for not walking fast enough and wondered if he could jump up with enough fervor to break through the ceiling.

“hey,” you were smiling at him as you sidled up next to him. he was thankful he had your real expression right in front of him--the gentle image in his mind was fading by the minute and he appreciated the refresher. “where’re you going? i thought we were still eating lunch together?”

right. lunch. eating. food. the empty feeling in bokuto’s stomach reminded him of the fact he’d skipped breakfast after thinking so hard about his feelings and what to do with them that too much time slipped away to let him eat something properly.

“oh, yeah!” he forced a smile--”forced” wasn’t really the right term though, because with you everything flowed so naturally and so easily that he never had to force himself to do something.

“i was actually planning on practicing a bit instead of going to the cafeteria.” your expression fell the slightest bit and he scolded himself internally for being the cause of even the mildest discomfort of yours. “i’m really sorry for not telling you! really sorry! i should’ve texted you or something. i’m sorry! but i’ll make it up to you if--”

“bo!” your lightened expression was back and he, cheesily, melted at the sight. “it’s fine! i’m not angry at you. well, at least not for that. i’m just worried that you’re not eating lunch.”

uh oh. his stomach didn’t feel that great. it felt like there were a bunch of wild, frantic insects in there that pushed and pulled at the tissue in an attempt to get out. he thought he needed to vomit.

it was nice that you were worrying about him. you did that a lot. the reminder only made him feel lightheaded and briefly convinced that maybe it wasn’t a crush and actually just a really bad, persistent stomach flu that only flared up in the presence of the girl of his dreams.

he spoke through a smile that he hadn’t even noticed appeared on his face so brightly. “it’s really sweet that you’re worried.” his words were hazy and lovestruck. midway through the interaction he stopped putting so much effort in hiding his adoration for you. he figured maybe you’d appreciate it one way or another, even if it was just to make fun of him in your head. “but i’m fine! no worries! i’ll make sure to eat when i get home, promise.”

you gave him a nod, “promise,” and a quick wave and then you were off to the cafeteria. to eat lunch. would you be alone? when you both ate lunch together you didn’t really hang out with anyone else--as much as bokuto’s teammates offered to let you sit at their table, you were both perfectly content with just sitting in the presence of each other, alone.

dreamily, his grin persisted on his face and his eyes grew glittery and unfocused before his lips dropped at another realization.

you’d be alone. would you feel lonely? would you be mad at him for making you feel that way?

he made it to the gym already by the time he realized that. maybe this time alone would let him settle his fluttering heart and compose himself so he could be conditioned to tolerate your presence more often without drifting away into a bunch of domestic daydreams.

a sick feeling in his stomach persisted all through his spiking practice. it was less pleasant than before. his body temperature grew both from unease and the physical exertion caused by extra practice.

maybe he really was sick. in one way or another.

---

you showed up to the gym fifteen minutes into bokuto’s practice. the boys were still slowly getting ready, so you took the time to approach bokuto and hand him a small and weighty paper bag.

“meat buns,” you told him, extending the package in his directions. “it’s not good to skip meals just to practice. you still have to eat!” despite the scolding tone, your face remained playful and taut in a smile. bokuto wondered if your cheeks every became sore from grinning all the time. as much as he didn’t want you in pain, he was willing to give you all the face massages you wanted as long as it kept you smiling at him so often. did face massages exist? were they a thing? he’d study the art of massage for you and develop a technique, whatever was necessary.

“y… yeah…!” he responded dumbly. his was certain his face was unhealthily red as his body instinctively moved to wrap you in his arms.

hugs were typical between you two. it wouldn’t be weird, right? oh well. too late to think about it, since you were already embraced in the warmth of his arms.

“are you alright?” your voice came out muffled and gentle from the depths of his embrace and his heart fluttered at the way your voice rumbled through his chest. “you feel kinda warm.”

he was warm? he thought you were way warmer than him. though maybe he meant that in a less physical sense. he couldn’t tell the difference anymore--not with you.

“yeah, just kind of tired.” before he could ridicule himself at the fact that tired had no correlation to having a full-body flush, he continued to reassure you, “but i’m fine! i’ll make sure to take care of myself.”

he felt your smile appear against the fabric of his shirt and wondered if it was weird that he was willing to die in that position.

after a moment of relaxing in each other’s grasps (and ignoring the distant gossip of his teammates), bokuto pulled back with a grin, a nod, and the longing to press a kiss against your forehead.

practice was good. it felt easier than it had been last week, though he probably owed that to the visit you paid him in the afternoon. he came to the conclusion that running from you just to “figure out his feelings” was stupid. he knew what he felt. he didn’t have a single clue what to do about it specifically, but thought that was fine. it felt good to be around you--he’d be stupid to let opportunities to spend time with you pass him by.

---

apparently you sat with akaashi the day before, when bokuto was away from the cafeteria during lunch. he figured that out when he went to sit at your usual table only to find you accompanied by his setter.

“bo! hey!” you greeted, pausing the ongoing conversation with akaashi. “i forgot to tell you, but akaashi’s sitting with us today. he sat with me yesterday so i just figured the three of us could start eating lunch together.”

bokuto didn’t really think much of it. if anything, he was thankful that akaashi had kept you company and alleviated the ace of some of his lingering guilt from the day before.

he had no qualms with having the duo become a trio for the period, and found himself enjoying the conversation floating between all of you.

well. sort of. he didn’t really get to talk much with how exuberant you seemed to be with akaashi. it was nice to see you so happy and active with his friend, and the sight of your smile was enough to distract him from the unpleasant simmering of his stomach acid.

for the most part. he had to excuse himself to the bathroom in the middle of class to splash cold water on his face and try to subdue the uncomfortable heat that was certainly not reminiscent of his previous warming adoration for you.

despite how many times he urged you to go home early, you assured bokuto that you were fine with staying for his practice the whole time, ending your defense with a, “i really wanted to walk with you today!” and a smile that made him fall into your unintentional trap.

true to your word, you walked to the train station with bokuto, boarding the same train. conversation was light and typical, but his leg kept bouncing and heart urged for him to say something before everything imploded under the pressure of his emotions.

“are you dating akaashi?” great going, bokuto thought, the most discreet, subtle thing i could’ve possibly asked.

you blinked, and turned your gaze from your phone screen to him. you huffed out a lighthearted laugh and nudged your elbow into his ribs playfully. “of course not. we only really started talking yesterday. i wouldn’t date someone i barely know.”

bokuto’s mind went on overdrive, the news coming as a deep relief for him and making him ignore the blaring reminders of potential consequences that flashed bright and red in his head. his mouth spilled words before he could logically think of what to say and figured letting his heart guide, as always, wouldn’t be a terrible choice.

“so you’d date someone you do know? a lot? like a friend?”

once again, his words weren’t discreet in the slightest, but he had tunnel vision pointed in your direction, covering you in a sheer golden light like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment--because you were. no need for detailed thought processes or pros and cons lists that he’d briefly considered making (“that’s what professionals do, right?”).

your smile persisted, and he took that as a good enough sign to continue with his mindless stammering.

though your voice interrupted his next outward train of thought, and he listened with the focus of a child watching a television screen.

“what about this saturday? at noon? at that sweet little cafe near my house?”

bokuto blinked. processed your words with an intensity unmatched, even compared to those times he had to write those stupid DBQs and analyze sources that were way too complicated for him to handle very well.

you words were much easier for him to understand than college-level essays. much lighter, much sweeter, like agave syrup and orange zest.

“yeah. this saturday. that’s… great.”

bokuto wondered if it was possible to develop sudden onset asthma as you slid closer to his form, side pressed up against his in a way that felt much more meaningful than any casual touches from before. he lost his breath--felt like he dropped it--as you gave him a smile and let your hand casually fall against his.

(he walked you all the way home, which he didn’t usually do, but today wasn’t really usual. you asked if you could kiss him, and in a fit of overwhelming emotions he blurted out “i thought i was supposed to do that?!” only for his words to be muffled by your lips on his. bokuto’s mind went silent for the first time in a long time, only filled with a gentle buzz and glimmering stars that made him feel warm and dizzy.)

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mr-face-both-ways · 4 years ago

Text

Stex Appreciation Month: CB!

Can’t trust anyone these days, remember I can face both ways!

Ah yes, my url’s namesake, i finally had time to finish and post something lol i’ll post the others soon

Questions answered under the cut! This is extra long because he is my Fave and im Biased

Fave song: There’s Me hands down, the whole scene including That Was Unfair is just so good in establishing CB’s, Greaseball and Dinah’s characters so well, plus the melody is just*chef’s kiss* and the fact that its technically a villain song?? Love that, plus the parallels of him finding Dinah alone and upset and comforting and supporting her and lending her a hand up and sending her on her way after she’s cheered up, with post race 3 where he’s the reason Rusty’s alone and hurt on the floor, kicking him when he tries to get up (looking at you 1991 boot) and mocks and insults him, leaving him alone with his confidence broken as he leaves laughing. What an absolute bastard!! But when There’s Me is taken out, you don’t properly see his two sides, both the bad and good sides are important to his character! He’s a contrary dude but that’s just him! Plus the actual song has one of my fave melodies of the show, I can and do listen to the intro from the ost on repeat, plus that lil bit in the japan vid?? So cute?? And the contrasting styles to that and Wide Smile?? Amazing, love it

Fave actor: Once again my fave actor list is gonna be like 5 people lol, the great thing about C.B’s material is that his attitude and demeanour can change based on his inflection, movement etc so! Michael Staniforth is a given, his Wide Smile really demonstrates his range which imo not many others have been quite as good, plus what extremely little footage and photos there are of him he was extremely expressive and just fun to watch! I’ll also go with Peter Rees, Andrew Prosser, Hans Johansson, Oliver Rhoe Thornton (and what the heck let’s also go for early Kapa Kitchen and Daniel Ellison)

Fave ship: Ohh boy this is super self indulgent but CBGB honestly (has the fandom given it a nickname? Greaseboose?? idk) I love that in the older scripts him and GB high five (that us boot where cb does a lil jump to hit GB’s high five?? Adorable) and actually talk like friends?? Like Greaseball is a jerk to pretty much everyone and for him to be friendly with him is just sweet. Not to mention its Greaseball who tells his gang that CB’s a “mean machine”, is always calling out to CB in the races and a recent thing that clicked in my brain is that when CB says “what a race, what a team!” and GB’s like “shhh! ohhh you mean me and dinah?” like did he just think that CB was about to out that they were working together during the race to crash the other engines in front of Dinah so he shushed him, then realised he was talking about GB and Dinah?? then just the whole exchange after sabotaging Rusty?? Duet One Rock and Roll? That GB just lifts him up like its nothing then they just kinda sit on eachother?? Those two are in cahoots I tell you!! Plus to me i get the vibe that they’ve been working together for years?? I just love their dynamic haha (and CB’s the only one i think who calls him GB that’s so cute) oh and platonic CB/Dinah is top tier, I feel like Dinah’s a very emotionally honest person so CB would feel like he could actually trust her?? And thanks to the new megamix Canoose/Elektra can have one right, as a treat

Fave thing about him: His independence! All the other characters are very much driven by either winning the races or finding love (or both), and C.B. just...doesn’t care. What you “are” is a big deal in Stex, like the engines, coaches and freight all have their identities shaped by their titles, and that can influence how they feel about the above two subjects “nobody can do it like a steam train”, etc and looking at when C.B. does participate in the races him and his partner tend to take the lead so he is good at racing!! But he chooses not to in order to make his own fun (at the expense of pretty much everyone else). He also seems to have a level of self-awareness, take his verse in Freight for example, he knows that as a brakevan he has to essentially serve the freight train, perceptually at the back of the train. But instead he uses his “purpose” aka his brakes to not do what he’s been told and to disrupt the train, and gets away with it by presenting himself as the innocent helpful brakevan! He’s just doing his own thing, (poor Rusty but,,) good for him!! And of course I have to say again, his two sides, and the ambiguity of it?? Like is he good, bad?? He’s both and neither?? An absolute force of chaos, but it only really works when both sides are present. Plus he a cutie tehe

Random headcanon: I think he’s unnervingly observant, even moreso than Pearl, and has amazing peripheral vision. That and taking notice of things like vibrations on the rails he’s very good at telling whose around before they’ve fully come into vision. He’s always watching everything around him, and isn’t necessarily being creepy, he’s just trying to get as much info on the current situation as possible. I think he likes to have some control and be on top of things?? I also really like the ex-boxcar theory (I first saw this theory on the old bellesdomain forums, rip) and I think that maybe when he was converted it was very difficult for him, having to deal with people, and having the CB radio to control what he hears helps ground him and keep his thoughts less cluttered?? He might’ve also forgotten a lot of his boxcar days, so when he says “you know I’m to blame but you don’t know my name” maybe he doesn’t even remember his original name?? And never got a new one as just the Red Caboose, so he clung onto the CB radio to give himself a sense of identity when his previous identity was stripped from him?? IDK

Unpopular opinion: This wagon can hold so many spicy takes he’s not a murderer lol but at the same time i can see where people can think that considering the lyrics reference several real-life train crashes even if they don’t make sense for CB to be there which tbh I put down to Stilgoe going tehe railway incident reference! I think he’s travelled around a lot and done a lot of questionable things, and maybe he was responsible for those crashes in the stex universe?? or maybe he’s just lying?? he’s definitely responsible for some shit, but considering he crashes 5 (!!!) engines during that one race night and being publicly humiliated after race 4 he doesn’t get in trouble and besides, all those engines are back for light at the end of the tunnel, they’re fine lol. Another thing is that I haaaate how CB has like no agency anymore in the current version like everything he does is for money, he’s basically a henchman for the engines (and everyone knows what his deal is and he isn’t in train jail?? what??) and they got rid of the pre-race 4 bit “just for me, I’m in this just for me” (in that slightly twisted there’s me melody) and Electra desperately pleading “help me caboose, help me caboose” to just the generic “I’ll help you win” at the end and not really its own little bit anymore like he barely has his own motivations anymore, it actually makes me really sad :( it really just doesn’t feel like CB anymore, though his character has been really disjointed since like 2007 when they got rid of there’s me. He’s just kinda bland now, like before he instigated a lot of the conflict, now others tell him to do something and he does it. I could like him more if he had an ounce more depth, like why is he so motivated by money? Maybe go into that old vs new tech theme and bring up that now that there’s new tech that can do the job of a brakevan he’s now antiquated and has to go into crime to get by?? Idk just please give me something, I think CB’s always been a bit of a fan favourite because he had multiple layers to his personality but new boose just has a whole lotta nothing :/

Anyway let’s end on a positive note at least we got pride lighting and a solo in the megamix so that’s something I guess XD

#stex appreciation month #starlight express #stex #cb the red caboose #stex cb #my art #musicals

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babysizedfics · 4 years ago

Text

Little Accidents, Big Developments

Bonus chapter: Yellow

[This is an age regression story]

Chapter Summary: Janus detects a lie.

Chapter word count: 1,800

Other chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / bonus

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

Content warnings: light angst, very mild blood via a bitten lip, and brief, hypothetical mentions of disembowelment and decapitation (Remus, amirite?)

oOo

Janus sipped at his chamomile tea, only faintly registering the bright yellow haze that overcame the left side of his vision. Another lie.

His vision would flare several times a day at least, always informing him of an untruth spoken by one of the sides. He was, of course, accustomed to this alert, having lived with this power for the entirety of his existence.

As the hot herbal drink soothed his aching throat (it was murder on the lungs to reprimand Remus so much), he indulged in his curiosity and closed his eyes. With a practised concentration, he mentally reached out for the false words that had sounded his silent alarm.

It was Patton’s voice. The version of Patton’s voice that Janus had deemed “daddy dialect” in the recent weeks. ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

Janus scoffed.

The lies he was so accustomed to hearing spanned the breadth of significance, from inconsequential white lies (‘I don’t know who finished your Crofter’s jam, Logan.’) to really outrageous fabrications.

Within the past two months, he had heard quite the abundance of silly fibs. Even in the space of a fortnight, some truly ridiculous ones had stuck in his mind:

‘I don’t need dinner!’

‘I-I’m older now. I can do this on my own.’

‘It was a purely tactical approach.’

‘Three, two, one, blow! … You did it!’

It seemed almost every lie spoken by the self-proclaimed “Light Sides” nowadays was riddled with either petulance or condescension. (That is, Janus thought with a roll of his mismatched eyes, at least notably more than was usual for them.) The reason behind it was not lost on him. He may not have been the designated logical side, but it would take an absolute dunce to miss the cues on what exactly was happening in the others’ household; Logan and Patton had evidently taken on caregiving roles for Virgil and, unexpectedly - though perhaps it should not have been, given his childishness - Roman.

Janus had had his suspicions of such after walking in on the household spending time together a month previously. Given how fiercely protective Logan had been of the others and the way Patton had hidden the two younger sides behind himself, it would be hard to ignore the shift in their dynamic. Though the confirmation of it through listening in to the others’ unwitting lies had come as quite an unpleasant shock to Janus, nonetheless.

Every day he sensed silly fibs. The one earlier about baby giggles being a legal requirement under baby law had been… not endearing, per se (that yellow pulse again), but perhaps interesting. Though none of the nonsense he had been alerted to in the past few weeks came close to the idiocy of ‘Nothing will change, sweetheart.’

How self-assured. How naïve. How reminiscent of Janus’ own foolish thoughts all those years ago.

He sighed, lowering his mug to the table and running his cold fingertips idly over the burning hot ceramic. It was not that Janus was jealous (he ignored the faint swell of yellow in the corner of his vision) but rather that he felt an uncomfortable bubble of remorse in his chest, growing and stretching and forcing its way against his ribs.

As he had done countless times before, he wondered what things would have been like had he behaved differently when the youngest side was still part of his household. Had he been more understanding of Virgil’s behaviours. More accepting.

Well, as Patton’s lie had brought up such aching memories, Janus decided a tad more bittersweet self-indulgence would be fitting for the night.

He rose from his seat, tucked the chair back under the table, and slinked through the house fluidly. He thanked his serpentine side for allowing him to practically float up the stairs and through the hallway without making a sound. If either of the other two residents heard him and decided to leave their rooms for a chat, Janus would not be held responsible for whatever unsavoury greeting he may bestow upon them.

A vile feeling clawed at his throat as he neared the perpetually closed door of Virgil’s old bedroom.

With a sharp, short sigh that might have been at least partly a hiss, Janus pushed the heavy door open. The neglected hinges creaked.

Beams of cold light from the hall flooded through the gap of the opening doorway, making visible a thin segment of the abandoned room.

It was unmarred by dirt, slime, blood, or any other disgusting substance, thankfully. Janus had to give credit to Remus. As non-existent as that side’s impulse control was, he had managed to spare this single room from his various antics and pranks at Janus’ sincere request.

The room was entirely unchanged from how it had been left years ago. Small, dotted stains on the walls showed where blu-tac used to hold up punk band posters. Splotches of black on the carpet by the old dresser showed where liquid eyeliner was spilt too many times. Black cotton bedsheets (which now appeared grey with their faint layer of dust) were pulled taut over the mattress where they had only ever used to be in constant, rumpled disarray at a certain someone’s stubborn refusal to make the bed.

Janus gripped the doorframe tightly, clenching his jaw against his growing feeling of unease.

Being a “Dark Side” came with an appreciation of all things, well, dark. True crime stories were common conversation material at dinner, movie nights featured more than anyone’s fair share of fake blood (not always on screen, mind you; Remus had to have some fun once in a while, after all), and family bonding time consisted of debates on the darkest secrets of society and an abundance of teasing of each others’ insecurities and fears - all in good fun, of course. (Though, when Virgil had finally left for good that fateful day with tears streaming down his cheeks, Janus had been forced to reconsider what “good fun” really meant to them.)

As it was, Janus was accustomed to seeing and hearing things meant to turn stomachs, race hearts, and scramble minds. He shrugged at the majority of them and scoffed at the rest. But gazing upon this empty room - the physical embodiment of his failure as a parental figure - was the closest he thought he could truly be to feeling horrified.

Janus’ insides twisted and pulled so much every time his eyes wandered over the sealed doorway, that he had seriously considered asking that Remus follow through on his threats to disembowel him and relieve him of his agony.

Bile had not yet risen in his throat, so Janus considered today to be a good one to bring himself to peek at the old bedside table - or rather what lay upon it.

Once cluttered with makeup products, tangled headphones, and herbal anxiety remedies, the surface now lay mostly bare. Save for a single soft toy slumped across it limply.

The blue stuffed rabbit was a ghastly thing. It was missing an eye, one of its limbs was stretched far longer than the others (probably as a result of its owner’s nervous tugging which was otherwise directed onto his hoodie sleeves), and one of its ears was half-chewed to tatters (another nervous habit of its owner, no doubt). Despite its ratty appearance, the thing was harmless. Such an unassuming object, so innocent.

And yet it brought tears to Janus’ eyes.

He had never even learned the name of the damned thing and wasn’t it utterly ridiculous that Janus, the unofficial leader of the “Dark Sides”, was blubbering over a made-up name for an inanimate object?

It had not mattered to him before. It had made no difference to him what Virgil had named it or how much he had cared about it. Janus had metaphorically and mercilessly turned the thing into a weapon that day. With his careless tongue, he had twisted its existence from an item of comfort and attachment into a source of ridicule and hurt. It was no wonder Virgil had left it behind. It had been tainted.

Janus winced at a sudden sting in his lower lip. He had bitten into it again. One would have thought having fangs would convince someone to be more careful of such a habit.

Delicately dabbing at a drop of cool blood at the corner of his mouth, Janus sighed shakily. That was quite enough emotional torment for one evening.

He released the old bedroom door and let it fall shut. It had barely thudded against the doorframe when that grating, obnoxious sound trilled from the bane of Janus’ existence.

‘What’s up, Jannothy?’

‘Remus,’ Janus greeted with an exaggerated eye roll. It was only partly to rid his eyes of their wetness. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ Yellow tinted his left eye.

The distinctive scent of burnt paper met his nose. With a jolt of dread, Janus turned to see Remus half-caked in soot. He just about managed to contain a scream. It would have only invited one of Remus’ much-loved screeching competitions.

‘I see you’ve been in the library,’ Janus sighed. ‘Tell me, just how many of my books were charred beyond repair this time?’

Remus blew his cheeks out in a massive exhale, looking up to the ceiling in thought. As the warm breath wafted over his face, Janus was careful to breathe through his mouth.

‘Oh, only about half of them,’ Remus sang then cackled joyously for a short while. ‘But you’ll be glad to hear I sculpted the ashes into the shape of a nine-foot-long decapitated aardvark!’

Janus shut his eyes, shaking his head lightly. He hadn’t the energy to pander to Remus’ whims of fancy. ‘Good night, Remus.’

He silently slipped past the other side in the direction of his room.

‘But it’s only seven!’

‘I’m half cat.’ Yellow again.

‘Jan - wait,’ Remus called behind him, and the incongruous hesitance in his voice gave Janus pause.

He twisted his body back, surprised by the incredibly rare sincerity in the furrow of Remus’ brow.

‘All right. You have my undivided attention,’ Janus drawled, making a point to hold up his hand and inspect his nails thoroughly. He smirked at the yellow tint of his vision.

‘You seem bummed out,’ Remus whined, ‘and the role for resident bum is filled out by me already.’

Janus rolled his eyes again. At this rate, he would get vertigo.

‘So, are you, y’know… okay?’ Remus asked quietly. (Really, what an oxymoron that was.)

Something hard and hot clogged Janus’ throat and he swallowed thickly around it. He dropped his hand and swiftly looked up to meet Remus’ eyes.

‘Yes,’ Janus said in an entirely even tone, ‘I am perfectly fine. Now, if you will excuse me.’

He spun away and marched down the narrow hallway, keeping his gait steady. It was quite a feat, considering the fact he was half-blinded by a bright yellow glare.

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated! ♡

AO3 link

TAGLIST (you can send an ask or message to be added for future fics!)

@tearful-babi

#little/big series #little/big series fics #little accidents big developments

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wickedmilo · 3 years ago

Photo

ASK ME ANYTHING | MILO & HARSH

PLACE: Harsh’s apartment TIMING: A couple of months before ‘Sweet Summer Child’ SUMMARY: Milo begrudgingly accepts the fact that if you don’t know, sometimes you just have to ask WRITING PARTNER: @notsoharsh CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of overdosing, needles, and drug abuse

Milo stared down at his notebook, his hasty, and cluttered handwriting making it difficult to spot any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies. Not that it would matter, really. He had no plan on actually letting Harsh see his work. But it felt important to appear at least semi-composed. He was already making himself vulnerable, embarrassing himself by showing his blatant lack of understanding. He knew Harsh would be kind, and patient. The man had yet to show any sign of regretting his decision to take him in, something that was both a comfort, and a concern. It was forever looming over his head, the thought of the older vampire growing bored of playing mentor. But he knew he couldn’t live in fear. Either it would happen, or it wouldn’t, and right now, what was important was his distinct, and disorienting lack of knowledge. Hopefully, by the end of the night, he wouldn’t feel so lost, or confused. He might finally get some answers.

People had been helping him, Harsh in particular had made him feel safe, and secure in a way he could never have anticipated. But there was so much to learn, and it was very rare for information to come up organically. He was learning, that much was undeniable, but the pacing was slow, and eventually he had come to decide the best course of action would be writing a list. A list of everything he felt he had missed, everything that wasn’t about to come up in conversation, every question that hit him at 6 in the morning, every worry, every passing query, every fact that Rio wouldn’t know. Harsh would be there for him, in the same way he had been there for him since the moment they first crossed paths with each other. So he saw no harm in presenting him with said list, of asking him outright in a bid to know more.

The overwhelming scent of human food told him he would find Harsh cooking in the kitchen. It was something he did an awful lot considering he wasn’t able to enjoy the food, but the sound of somebody cooking, the smells, and routine that came with seeing his roommate busy over a stovetop, was something he genuinely enjoyed. It made the apartment feel more like home. Slipping out of his bedroom, and making his way into the hall, his socked feet were soft, and quiet against the apartment’s hardwood flooring. When he finally arrived at the kitchen, he hovered in the doorway so that he could watch for a moment before making his presence known. No doubt Harsh was fully aware he had an audience, he was very good at staying vigilant, but he pretended otherwise so it felt polite to announce himself. “So…” He started, trying to ignore the sudden spark of anxiety that ignited within his chest. It was an unhealthy product of his academic upbringing, but he hated not knowing. If he needed to know the answer to a question he had always been encouraged to search for it himself, which made it very easy to pretend he had automatically known the answer. This was different. Harsh was him searching for information, only to get it, he first needed to admit that he didn’t have it. Something that didn’t come naturally to him. “What’s on the menu tonight?” He asked, leaning against the door jam, offering an affectionate smile.

There was something strangely comforting about having a roommate again. No, comforting wasn’t quite the word. Settling, balancing maybe. Harsh didn’t care to get hung up on the particulars. He knew what he was like when left on his own too long, had been there too many times. He got reckless, he got sloppy. Even before he had turned, before he had thrown his soul away, he had been impulsive. It was worse now. Though he had learned from two hundred years of mistakes, there were still times he slipped, fell into old, bad behaviors. It was so easy. Instant gratification. That was the name of the soulless game and it was one he had played for two centuries. He liked to think he played it well, but there had been close calls and plenty of them. Now though, there was someone else to worry about. A couple of someones, if he was honest with himself now. He had friends, people who gave a shit. And he wanted to give one too. It was weird, the feelings scraping up the hollow where his soul should be. Wanting one wasn’t the same as having it, not by a long shot, but he had been pretending for a while. Fake it till you make it, the words had served him pretty damn well so far. What was a bit more?

Harsh didn’t take his eyes off the sizzling pan in front of him as Milo made his way down the hall. The kid was learning. Stealth wasn’t part of the vampire package, but it was necessary to know to make it out there. Still, Harsh hadn’t made it this far without knowing when someone was sneaking up on him, when he was being watched. But he kept his eyes on the food before him. Neither of them needed to eat, but it was a habit he had never quite managed to shake. He remembered it vaguely how much he had liked to cook when he was alive. Though the tastes had faded off his tongue, the fun hadn’t. He grinned as he flipped the vegetables, tossing and catching in the searing pan. Glancing over his shoulder at Milo’s question, he grinned. “Stir fry, I found this new recipe I wanted to try. Extra spicy, careful around the garlic though, makes your fangs pop out if you get a big bite.”

Grabbing two dishes from the cupboard, he plated up the food smoothly and slid one across the counter to Milo. The apartment wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to suit their purposes and had a landlord who didn’t look too closely at references. The kitchen was separated from the living room only by a half wall sort of island, a bar stool on either side. Harsh sank onto his after grabbing a mug of blood out of the microwave. “You want a cup?” he asked. “There’s more in the fridge. Should last us a couple weeks.”

Milo eyed the vegetables as Harsh flipped them, looking back up at the man in time to catch his easy grin. It was so obvious he enjoyed cooking, though he had never thought to ask why before. Was it something he used to do a lot when he was human? Maybe he had been a chef in some past forgotten life. “Wait- you put garlic in there?” He asked, moving forward to peer into the pan, his notebook still clutched to his chest. “That’s really a thing? Like, vampires and garlic?” He couldn’t hide his skepticism though he definitely wasn’t about to demand any kind of proof. He figured that was one question he would be able to tick off of his list. Leaning against the kitchen counter as Harsh moved to ready two plates, he couldn’t help the way his expression brightened at the prospect of blood. He had always been self-indulgent. If something made him feel good, or he enjoyed it, then he wanted more. He wasn’t in the business of denying himself simple pleasures, and thanks to his new life, blood happened to be one of them.

He had kept note of his roommate’s eating habits, he knew vampires only really needed a moderate amount every couple of weeks if they wanted to get by without descending into bloodlust. But much to the detriment of Harsh’s supply, he had been drinking far more than he needed to. Why not? If Harsh was happy to let him then he saw no reason to hold back. “Sure!” He enthused, picking up his plate of food and setting it down opposite Harsh so that it would be ready for him when he got back. Leaving his notebook beside it, he moved to pull a blood bag out of the fridge. Using a pair of scissors from the cutlery drawer to cut open the plastic, he looked back over to his company as he began to empty the blood into a mug. “Did you have a good day- I mean, night at work?” He absentmindedly corrected himself, still not used to the shift in scheduling. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Oh yeah, a whole bunch. I know it’s weird.” Harsh shot Milo a grin as he drew closer, glancing at the notebook. Huh, he was actually trying to do homework on this whole vampire thing. That was probably smart. “It is… sort of. It doesn’t hurt us or anything, but it makes it pretty hard to pretend to be human. Try a clove and see what happens,” he said, passing one over. “I just eat them like popcorn sometimes. They actually taste like something. I go a little crazy seasoning things sometimes.” As much as he swore by the perks of being undead, he couldn’t really deny that not being able to taste things properly was sort of a pain. After two hundred years, he was used to it, but playing around in the kitchen, trying to find something that would cut through the dullness never quite got old.

The blood wasn’t going as far as it used to, but that was to be expected. Sharing with a roommate, and a newbie at that, was going to make things a little tighter than usual. Oh well. If they started running low on blood bags, Harsh could just go eat a couple joggers. He slid onto a stool at the counter, popping a large forkful of food into his mouth. Decent, but he could do better. “Well, Dr. Gnick killed three people in surgery today and made his interns talk to their families, so that was kind of a shit show. They seriously need to take that guy’s medical license away. If you ever want a watch though, let me know, he loses his in patients all the time. They’re nice ones too. What about you, man? Finding stuff to do around here?”

“Everything about this situation is weird.” Milo countered, throwing the empty blood bag into the bin before putting his mug in the microwave. Setting the timer in the way he had been taught to, the drink should be body temperature by the time the alarm eventually sounded. Just the fact that he knew how long to microwave blood for inarguably supported his statement. That was not normal information to retain. Turning around to lean back against the counter behind him, listening to the quiet hum of the appliance, he wrinkled his nose at the thought of eating garlic cloves like popcorn. He knew as he tried to imagine doing so he was remembering the overpowering taste that came with being human, but it was still a difficult habit to understand. Hesitantly reaching out to take the clove offered to him, he held it up to his eye level, analysing it quietly before deciding he had nothing to lose. Popping it into his mouth, it definitely wasn’t an unpleasant sensation, and Harsh was right about being able to taste… something. But it was only a matter of seconds before he could feel his fangs protruding. They made him feel clumsy, and awkward as he continued to chew. After forcing himself to swallow, he reached up to prod at them with the tip of his finger, raising his eyebrows at his roommate. “So that’s what happens?” He asked. “It doesn’t hurt us but it stops us from looking human?”

It was kind of depressing to think something as mundane as an ingredient could reveal what he was now, draw this monster out of him against his will, but he tried not to dwell on that fact, focusing instead on the microwave as it beeped to alert him that his drink was ready. Once he was comfortably hugging the mug to his chest, he settled into the chair opposite his friend, a quiet laugh escaping him at what he sincerely hoped was a joke. “No he did not.” He countered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Though honestly, shit like that would probably go unnoticed in a place like this.” If doctors could steal blood bags, and he could forge his father’s prescriptions, then people weren’t exactly being vigilant. “I can’t say I’m in the market for a watch,” he admitted. “But I’ll take one if it’s got a gruesome backstory.” Faltering at the question of how he was spending his time, he realised it was the perfect way to change the subject of their conversation. Move it over from lighthearted small talk to something heavier, and more difficult to discuss. Chewing on his bottom lip for a moment, his fangs sharp and uncomfortable against the skin there, he pulled his notebook back towards himself. “Actually…” He tapped his fingers absentmindedly against the page facing upwards. “I spent today coming up with a list of questions.” Offering Harsh a sheepish grin, he watched him carefully for any sign of judgement. “If- if you don’t mind me asking, I mean- I guess his is probably the last thing you want to do after work.”

“Eh, after you’ve been doing it a while, it doesn’t seem that off.” Harsh hardly even thought about it anymore. Drinking blood was just one of those things, like showering or brushing his teeth. But then, he did have about two hundred years to get used to it. He snagged a couple cloves of garlic for himself, not so much as blinking when his fangs jutted out. It took a moment’s focus to get them back in place. Though he didn’t need to. Not like Milo was going to care about it. “Pretty much. So if you’re ever hanging around humans, just make sure you skip the garlic bread.” Garlic usually didn’t prove to be too much of a problem, though Harsh had encountered a couple humans over the years who had tried to slip him some, just to force the fangs out, to prove what they were already certain of. “It would be worse if we could still taste things. I would miss Italian food way more if it still tasted like something. If there’s any kind of food you miss though, I can try to make it. I like playing around with recipes, see what I need to do to make it actually have flavor.”

Harsh laughed, one shoulder rising in a shrug. “Is pulling a watch out of a dead guy’s guts gruesome enough? I swear, the stuff you find in bodies at the hospital is wild.” He had a small collection of things that had been found by the unlucky doctors dealing with the patients who didn’t make it. Maybe it was stealing, but he was pretty sure that no one wanted any of it back. “Questions?” Harsh blinked, caught a little off guard. He shouldn’t have been though. It made sense. When he had first turned, he had probably driven Eleanor crazy with all his questions. “I don’t mind. Better you ask me than try to find vampire forums online, people always make up the weirdest shit. So go for it, kid. Ask me anything.” Hell, this would probably be a better way to spend the night than just watching whatever mindless crap was on TV.

Milo could understand that. Even though on occasion he still caught himself doing something and was inevitably struck by just how strange that something was, his more vampiric habits were slowly becoming second nature. How long until he did things without thinking? Without remembering a time where he didn’t need to? Taking a sip from his mug, washing away the taste of the garlic, he watched Harsh as he retracted his own fangs. It wasn’t the first time he had seen him do it, but now felt like a very good time to ask him how it was possible. “How do you do that? Make them disappear?” He offered a sheepish grin, hiding behind his mug to avoid acknowledging his embarrassment. Maybe no matter what he did, he was going to feel ridiculous for asking so many questions. Maybe he should simply embrace that fact. “Noted.” He laughed quietly at the mention of garlic bread. He wasn’t sure there were many humans he needed to worry about eating around, so it wasn’t very much of a concern. Still, he was willing to take any advice he could get his hands on. “Italian food is your favourite? What was Italian food even like… two hundred years ago? How old are you again?” Making a mental note to think back on any food he missed that Harsh might be able to recreate, he wrinkled his nose at the mention of objects being found in dead bodies. Of course he had ended up with a roommate who liked to collect said items.

“I actually don’t want to know, I’ve changed my mind.” He teased. “I can’t believe you have a collection. Have any ghosts followed you home demanding their shit back?” He was only half joking, he definitely wouldn’t be surprised if the answer ended up being yes. Feeling a little more confident in himself now that the conversation was flowing easily, he nodded, grateful for no longer being able to blush. “Oh, jeez. Thanks for the heads up. I’ll, uh… I’ll stay away from the internet.” Offering his company a genuine smile, he took one more sip of his drink before begrudgingly setting it down. This was going to require his full attention, he couldn’t afford to get distracted. Pulling his notebook towards himself, he let out a huff of breath. Why was it this hard? It shouldn’t be this hard. Especially when Harsh made him feel so comfortable. “Okay, so you know I wrote a list… I’m just going to- I’ll start with the first question.” It was only going to complicate things if he jumbled them, so he swallowed his nerves, steeling himself to rip off the bandaid. “So… why can’t we sleep?” It was something that had been bothering him an awful lot, as of late. He could almost sleep, achieve something that passed the time and felt similar to losing consciousness. But it wasn’t the same. He missed the comfort, and the warmth. He missed the dreaming. “It’s like I can, but I can’t- if you know what I mean. I don’t get it…”

That was a decent question actually. Harsh hesitated, trying to think about it. There was so much that was just automatic now. He had spent so long learning to blend in, how to make himself seem more human, it was something he barely thought about. “You have to kind of relax your mouth. Think un-bloody thoughts. Just let them sink back in. It’s… kind of an instinct thing when they pop out sometimes, y’know? So you have to train yourself to just let them slip back in when you don’t need them. It’ll get easier with time.” At least, that was the hope. If Milo couldn’t figure it out, well… that was going to be a problem for later. He considered the question for a moment, shrugging. “I don’t know if it was my favorite. It depended where you went. I travelled a lot before I turned, everywhere had their own special dish. I’m 262… wait, I might be 263 actually. I sorta stopped keeping track of birthdays a while ago. They seem less special after the hundred year mark.” The date hardly mattered. If he really sat down and thought about it, he could probably remember, but there didn’t seem to be much of a point. It was easier to keep track of the years ticking by.

“Hey, it’s not like I just keep them for the hell of it. Loose watches and rings sell for a lot if you know who wants to buy.” It wasn’t something Harsh technically needed to do, the hospital job paid well enough and he had a decent amount saved. Still, a little extra spending money never hurt. Watching Milo’s posture shift, Harsh sat up a little straighter. So the kid was serious about this. Good, that was good. The more he knew, the better he would handle things out in the world. Huh, that was actually a pretty good question. Harsh rubbed at his chin. “Yeah, I know what you mean. The short answer is that we just don’t need to. I… think when we turn, things in our brain kind of shift a little bit. You don’t need that deep sleep to recharge anymore, so we just… don’t. It’s weird. It’s one of those things that gets easier over time. I think another part of it is… well, humans are kind of wired to sleep at night, but that’s the only time we can really go out and do anything, so we need to be awake for it. If you really miss sleeping… I know a couple people who might be able to help with that.” It wasn’t a guarantee, but hell he had seen spellcasters do a lot more than just put someone to sleep.

Milo glanced down at the blood in his mug, it was tempting him even as they spoke. Maybe thinking ‘un-bloody’ thoughts would need to wait for another time. “Hm, you keep saying that.” He pointed out. Though he had no doubt the words were true, sometimes he felt too impatient to wait for things to become easier with time. Why couldn’t they become easier now? Falling silent again, genuinely intrigued by the answer to his question, he couldn’t imagine how different travelling was back when Harsh had been human. Did he use a horse and cart like in the movies? Or ships, maybe? What other modes of transport were there? A quiet laugh escaping him, he did his best to avoid dwelling on his roommate’s age. It was fun to joke about every now and then, but the reality of it was terrifying. He had gone from feeling certain he probably wouldn’t reach the age of fifty, to knowing he might very well live to see his two hundredth birthday. What were you supposed to do with that information? How were you supposed to come to terms with that? “I guess fitting more than a hundred candles on a cake is pretty impossible anyway.” He teased.

His smile growing as he realised Harsh sold the items he took from the morgue, he wasn’t sure whether that was more or less reassuring. It could definitely be considered economical. Watching as his company sat up a little straighter, he felt another wave of gratitude wash over him. He didn’t need to be taking this so seriously, but apparently he understood how important it was. How desperate he was just to understand. His smile faltered as Harsh began to explain the way their bodies worked, but it didn’t take away from his appreciation. He wanted to say he wasn’t disappointed, that he had inevitably drawn the same conclusion. But he was disappointed. He was never going to have the feeling of waking up next to somebody again. He was never going to be able to drift off in the morning knowing he didn’t need to be up for anything. It was an opportunity to escape reality, to just enjoy being comfortable, and it had been taken from him. Stolen like so many other things. “You- you do?” He asked, unable to hide the sudden spark of hope he felt ignite within his chest. “Like actually sleep? Because I already know from experience I can still drink myself into oblivion.” Taking a quick sip from his mug before picking up his pen and crossing out question number one, he tapped the top of it against his notepad, already thinking over question number two. “Okay…” He continued, making it clear he was moving on. “So how can we be killed? There has to be more than one way, right? And we can get injured, so if we get injured enough, can that be fatal... or is it only if we’re injured by wood?”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I don’t mean to be a broken record. It’s just… you’re still pretty new to all this, man. You’ve gotta give yourself a break. There’s no rush, y’know? You’ve got a couple hundred years to figure shit out if you play your cards right.” It felt lame to say, but Harsh knew he had been repeating himself. That didn’t make it less true. There were so many things that he had just stumbled onto as time went on, things that just became natural the longer he spent as a thing that went bump in the night. Honestly, some of Milo’s questions kinda threw him. He hadn’t thought about his fangs in such a long time. They were just part of him. It was like asking about how his tongue moved when he was eating something. It just… did it. But that wasn’t a helpful answer. With a laugh, he nodded. “I tried to put a hundred on a cake once. It wasn’t really worth the joke, the whole thing got all waxy and gross. It’s easier to just get those number shaped candles, cheaper too.” The thing about birthdays is that you needed people to celebrate them with. Harsh didn’t always have those. But… maybe he should look into it. There were people in White Crest, his friends, they might like that kind of thing. It was weird to think about.

“Yeah, I do.” Harsh sort of did. It was… maybe a weird ask, but that was probably something Nell could whip up, or maybe he could track down someone a little shadier and ask. It wasn’t as though he had never dreamed as a vampire, though the few times he had, something magic had definitely been at work. So it was possible… probably. He had never actually figured out what it had been that caused all that dream sharing stuff, but it hadn’t been all that important. At least not for him. “Actual, real sleep. It… might get a little weird, magic can do that, but I think it would be more like what you want.” Magic always had its risks. He wasn’t anything close to a spellcaster and he knew that much. Onto the more intense questions then. That was a pretty smart ask though. “There’s a couple ways,” he said, nodding, “stake through the heart is the most popular. You probably know about the sun thing, if you stay out too long, it’s bad news. We’re also shockingly flammable, so I would avoid campfires and arson. And getting your head cut off, but I’m pretty sure that kills most things. Most other things we can heal from, and we heal fast, but you don’t want to get too reliant on that. Bullets and knives still hurt like hell, and if you haven’t had blood in a while, you heal slower.” Harsh didn’t exactly have the scars to prove it, but he could remember more than a few times where he had gotten a little too cocky and paid the price.

Milo smiled at Harsh, silently assuring him he didn’t need to apologise. Especially not for trying to comfort him, even if he did use the same lines on occasion. He was right, although the reminder of his new lifespan still made him nervous. He had time to figure things out, time to become comfortable with what he was, and the strange world he had been thrown into. He was already feeling far better than he had when Harsh first crossed his path, and that was largely due to his help. In a few more months he might even be happy, there really was no way to know. “Hm, but those number candles aren’t anywhere near as dramatic.” He pointed out. “Isn’t a hundred kind of a flex?” Wrinkling his nose at the thought of biting into icing only to realise it was actually wax, he couldn’t deny the inconvenience. But then, did vampires even eat cake? Making a mental note as the conversation shifted back to sleep, he didn’t want to forget. He longed to know who these people were, who he could go to and ask for some spell or potion that might allow him to replicate sleep. But that wasn’t what he was here to discuss. There were more important questions demanding his attention. “I can handle weird.” He assured his roommate, although he had a feeling there might be a lot of evidence to prove otherwise. Until recently he had been a mess, and they both knew it. Only with Harsh’s support had he been able to brush himself off, and hesitantly begin to deal with the loss of his human life.

Pushing away the thought, he focused on his mug of blood, nearly half empty now as it sat on the table in front of him. He picked it up, taking another sip before it was able to get cold. Nodding to show that he was listening to what was being said, he considered the new information. He was more than familiar with people trying to force a stake through his heart, but the mention of fire surprised him. “Wait- we’re flammable?” He asked, his mouth open slightly as he stared in indignant disbelief. “What, so every time I pull out my lighter I could literally fucking die?” As far as he was concerned, he would much rather take the inconvenience of wax on a cake over being scared of the candles. “You’re saying smoking can still kill me…” He added, pouting petulantly as he began to realise how frustrating navigating his smoking habit was going to be. “Shit.” Finishing what was left of his drink, he undeniably did feel better after putting his mug down again. Blood, like so many other substances in his life, was proving to be a wonderful aid when it came to avoiding his problems. “Okay, so…” Letting out a huff of breath, he turned his attention back to his notebook, scanning the questions he had written there, searching for the next one on the list. “You said if I haven’t had blood in a while then I heal slower? How much blood do I need to survive? And what happens to me if I don’t drink it?”

It was a pretty big adjustment, going from expecting to croak in fifty years to knowing there might be hundreds to go. Harsh had been pretty thrown when he had realized just how much time he had. Sure there was that distant deadline, four hundred years, but even that wasn’t an end. It was… a change, but one he wasn’t really eager to think about. Even though he was getting closer to that than he was to a normal human lifespan. Still, not his main problem right now. “Kinda, yeah. I definitely made a pretty big deal of it when I hit triple digits. But the second century seems a little more meh, y’know?” Though maybe that was just him. By the time he had started getting close to two hundred, everything had started to seem… less than it used to be. The hollow inside had started to grow, nothing ever filling it. Nothing lasted, nothing mattered. Huh, were souls a thing on Milo’s list? Harsh was half tempted to ask. Nah, probably better not to touch that unless the kid brought it up. “Alright, I can ask. Do you--have you messed with anything magic before? We can’t do it, at least I’m pretty sure we can’t. But there’s kind of… a lot of it just going off around here.” Milo was from the area, he had to have noticed some things weren’t quite normal in town. How anyone didn’t know that White Crest was a supernatural hot spot was beyond him. Denial was a hell of a drug.

With a little laugh, Harsh nodded. “Yeah. I mean, you’re probably not going to go up in flames if you drop your smokes on you, but… you might just want to be a little more careful with them. Just in case.” He had seen a few vamps catch fire before, it wasn’t pretty. Still, it didn’t usually happen by accident… usually. There had been a few idiots here and there who had landed themselves in rough shape. “It’s possible,” he said, shrugging and shooting Milo a sympathetic smile. “Just be careful and you shouldn’t have a problem… but I might stay away from bonfires if I were you.” Ah, blood, of course. It always came back around to that. Harsh hardly thought about it now. But the questions were good ones. “Yeah, and it’s not just healing. If I go too long without blood, I start getting antsy, it gets harder to focus on anything except for when I’m getting that next blood bag.” He fought down a slight shudder as he spoke. It had been ages since the last time he had gone too long without a drink, but the times he’d stretched his supply a little too thin always stuck in the back of his mind. “It depends. You’re still new, so… I wouldn’t go more than a week without a pint of blood. Once you adjust more, you can probably stretch it to two weeks, maybe three, but it starts getting risky around then. If you don’t get any… for me, I start feeling a lot less like a person. It gets to where it’s all you can think about. And, if it gets really bad, you might kind of lose yourself until you get another drink, and at that point, you’ll probably do anything you have to to get it.”

“Hm, the second century…” Milo echoed, amused by the absurdity of the statement. He could only imagine being that old, but one day he wouldn’t need to. One day it would be him reaching the triple digits. “Have I- no.” He answered, caught off guard by the unexpected question. “I mean, I don’t even know anybody who can do magic… I don’t think I do, anyway.” It was still strange to consider how many people from his life had been living in a secret, supernatural world. If he was being entirely honest he probably did know a witch or two. They just hadn’t told him about what they could do. “Why? Is it like, dangerous or something? Are you going to tell me it’s more trouble than it’s worth?” He almost dreaded the words, not because he would heed any advice Harsh had to offer, but because it would be another element of his life that came with risks, strings attached, people worrying over his safety, and growing restless when he refused to listen to them. He already had enough of that without turning to magic as a sleeping aid. “Yeah, no shit.” He added. “Ever since I died this place seems to get weirder by the fucking day…” He missed the days of blissful ignorance, the days where he could leave the house without worrying whether a Slayer might be waiting at the end of the street to stake him. Picking up his mug again, he sighed, clutching it to his chest as he listened to his roommate.

“If I did careful then I wouldn’t be a vampire.” He pointed out. Though they both knew he would be careful knowing the risk fire now posed to him. Not as careful as any sane person, but given his record any level of vigilance was commendable on his part. Paying closer attention as the conversation moved back to blood, he finished what was left of his drink, carefully savouring the taste of it. “I guess I kind of know that feeling…” He admitted, thinking back on every time he had ever been forced to go without his pills, or his cigarettes, or abstain from drinking alcohol. It was never an enjoyable experience. “I, uh… don’t think stretching is for me.” He realised as he said the words that maybe sometimes stretching would be his only option. Blood wasn’t exactly easy to source in an ethical manner. Without Harsh’s connection to the hospital, he didn’t know where his supply might be coming from. He wouldn’t let himself dwell on the thought. Swallowing as his company began to tell him about the risks of not eating properly, he lowered his gaze, tapping his fingers against the ceramic in his hands. He already knew what it felt like to lose himself, he never wanted to suffer through that again. “Like when you wake up… after you die...” He asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Would Harsh even be able to remember waking up? It had happened to him so long ago.

Forcing down the memories of his first, and only attack, he stared at his notebook, at the questions still written there demanding to be vocalised. “You mentioned healing…” He murmured, determined to change the subject, although he knew his next question was going to be a difficult question to ask. Harsh was more than aware of the fact that he liked to indulge, the man had even walked with him to pick up on the night they crossed paths with each other, but he still worried he could end up facing judgement, or the specific brand of sympathetic concern that still managed to set his teeth on edge. “This is hypothetical,” he started, knowing his lie would be obvious but feeling the need to insist upon it all the same. “But with the whole… the healing faster than humans thing, do you think I could still use, y’know- intravenously?” Glancing down at the marks on his arms, scars from long ago that were apparently going to forever blemish his skin, he forced himself to press on. “I guess I can’t OD anymore, right? Is that something I still need to worry about?”

That sort of made sense. Most people didn’t believe in magic until they saw it right in front of them, and sometimes that wasn’t even enough to do it. Harsh shifted his weight from foot to foot, a slight frown on his face. The question here was just how much to tell Milo. “More like it’s just literally not a thing we can do. Something about undeath and magic just doesn’t seem to mix. I don’t really know much more than that, honestly. I’ve heard people kind of lose their mojo if they turn like us. They’ll try to do a spell and just, nothing. I tried to mess with some a while back and never got anywhere.” He kept his tone light, casual, hoping Milo wouldn’t ask just what he had been trying to do. There were a dozen things he could make up, a few that weren’t even that far from the truth. “It’s also dangerous as shit if you don’t know what you’re doing. I won’t tell you not to mess with magic or spellcasters, I’m not the boss of you, but that stuff can go wrong and it’s not pretty when it does.” It was only just now getting weirder for him? Well, maybe that made sense. Milo had sort of been thrust into the thick of it.

With a soft laugh, Harsh nodded, holding up his hands. “Fair enough.” He couldn’t really argue with Milo on that one. Careful and becoming undead didn’t exactly go hand in hand. He nodded. “That’s probably better honestly. What really gets people in trouble is when they think they can make it on just a sip of blood every month. You’ll be a lot better off if you stay regular with it, especially if you’re not always drinking human blood.” He was still going to have to teach Milo how to hunt. It wasn’t exactly necessary at the moment, but two vamps meant a few more blood bags needed to go missing every month. Harsh had gotten good at keeping a low profile over the years. Milo though was still new, and new vamps weren’t exactly predictable. With a grimace, he nodded again. “Just like that. It’s… rough. People do a lot of things they regret if they go hungry for too long. I’d try just to not let it get to that point.” Easier said than done, honestly.

Ah, that. Now that was a bit of a hazy area. Harsh smoked and drank here and there, but he had never dabbled much in stronger stuff. It had never really appealed to him. A blood addiction was enough as far as he was concerned. But it was still worth asking. “Right, so… I’m not exactly an expert on that. But I think you could. You’re probably going to have to jab a little harder and you might need a stronger dose than before if you want to feel something.” He paused, letting his thoughts drift back for a moment. Though he had never messed around with anything beyond a few pot brownies, he had met a couple vamps over the years who hadn’t been able to leave their old vices behind. “I did have a few buddies a while back, they said they could still get what they needed if they fed from a human who just used. I don’t know if you’d want to do that, but… it’s an option, I guess. It sounds kind of risky to me though.” Drugs and drinking straight from a human sounded like a combination that was bound to end in disaster, but hell, Harsh had never tried it himself so what did he know. “I don’t think you need to worry too much about OD’ing now. I’d be more worried about someone thinking you OD’ed and sending you to the hospital. It’s really hard to explain waking up in a morgue.”

Milo made a mental note to avoid magic when he could, although toying with it didn’t necessarily interest him. He was looking for a way to replicate sleep, if that wasn’t possible he wasn’t sure staying away from potions, and spells would be difficult. Part of him was curious to know why, and how Harsh had been involved in spellcasting, it was becoming increasingly clear he was speaking from experience, but the older vampire was always so open when he wanted to be. If he wasn’t volunteering the information there was definitely a reason. He was under his roof, drinking his blood, picking his brain for answers to his never ending list of questions. The very least he could do was respect his privacy. “I’m not about to try and learn, don’t worry.” He insisted, hoping to alleviate some of his company’s concern. He had far too much going on to invite more chaos into his life, especially for something as simple as a good day of sleep. Smiling at the sound of Harsh’ laughter, he enjoyed the fact that the conversation felt casual, and calm. Any embarrassment, or vulnerability was fading away, replaced by a familiar sense of comfort. It was a reminder that he was safe in Harsh’s company, a reminder that for some unknown reason, the man wanted him to be okay.

“Is it good for you?” He asked, unable to help himself. He had never once considered the nutritional value of his diet, what his new body needed from it now. “To drink both?” He thought back to his nights spent on the edges of town, chasing aimlessly after every animal moronic enough to cross his path. Sometimes he got lucky, sometimes he actually managed to catch something, but the animals were usually weak or injured. He knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against a healthy creature, one determined to escape him. The blood couldn’t compare to human blood, but it had still tasted decent, and more importantly, it had kept him sane. Would he ever have to go back to that? Should he never have left it behind? Chewing on his bottom lip, fighting to keep his expression neutral, he didn’t want to talk about his own experience with losing control. He wasn’t ready to discuss that with anyone, not even Harsh. So he stayed silent, nodding quietly in response. It was only as Harsh moved on to his next question that he finally looked back up to catch his eye again.

A stronger dose. He wasn’t exactly against the notion, although he could hear his wallet adamantly protesting the news. He really should start thinking about going back to his job, but that part of his human life felt so out of reach, impossible to even consider. Not yet. Not now. Not after everything. “You did?” He asked, immediately desperate to know more. There were people out there who understood what he was worried about, who knew everything he needed to know if he wanted to continue supporting his habits. Where were they? How could he find them? Just as quickly as a sense of hope washed over him, it was replaced by a chill that seemed to shoot up the length of his spine. He couldn’t remember very much of his death, but his hazy memories were enough to make his friend’s words sound uncomfortably familiar. So he could give somebody drugs, and get high through drinking their blood? Apparently that particular strategy ended with people bleeding out on the floor of abandoned buildings. He suppressed a shudder, trying not to think too hard on the subject. He didn’t know that was why he died, and until he did he was determined to forget the details of his death, forget the trauma that he couldn’t seem to shake. “Yeah…” He murmured, reaching up absentmindedly to press his fingers against the base of his throat. “It does…” Forcing a smile again at the mention of waking up in a morgue, he had seen enough tv shows frame the situation as a joke to be able to glean some humour from the warning. Lowering his hand, he leaned forward to pull his notebook closer towards himself, scanning the list, surprised to realise he was nearing the end of it. “Okay,” he said, brushing off the previous questions, ready to be replaced. “How do you make somebody a vampire? What do you have to do for them to, you know… change? Obviously I’m not asking because I want to... I just… I can’t remember what happened to me. I want to know what was done to me.”

It was sort of a relief that Milo didn’t ask. Because if he did, Harsh would tell him. Maybe he should anyway. Was there anything about souls on that vampire question sheet? He almost wanted to sneak a peek at it. It wasn’t exactly… uncommon knowledge, but he had run into plenty of vamps over the years who had never even thought about their soul, let alone getting rid of it. He gave Milo a little smile. “Probably better that way. There’s plenty of witches hanging around town if you need some magic done anyway. It’s actually pretty cool if you watch someone who knows what they’re doing.” Cool and terrifying. Even when a spell was going right there was a chance it could go south at any second. Harsh sort of liked that rush… and he wouldn’t be that surprised if Milo did too.

“Yeah, a while back. I can try looking them up if you want.” The offer was one Harsh might not be able to cash in on. It had been ages, and those buddies weren’t really the type to have a consistent phone number or address… if they were even still around at all. “You might be able to find some people who know more about that down at this club called Teeth. You heard of it?” It probably wasn’t the sort of place he should send Milo to alone. He didn’t go there much himself, but he could chaperone now and then. God that was a weird idea, being the responsible one. When the hell did that happen? He was going to have to go out and make some dumb choices after this. Being responsible felt off. He had been trying to fake it, force it, for years. The fact that it was just kind of… happening now was weird. Unnerving.

Oh… now that was a question. Harsh let his fingers drum on the counter for a second. “Yeah, I get you.” It was understandable, wanting to get a grip on what had happened to him. “It’s not that complicated… mostly. You have to drain someone till they’re almost dead then get them to drink your blood and they should turn.” He paused, lips pulling into a grimace. “But you’ve got to be careful with it. Sometimes people turn, but… they don’t end up like us. Have you heard of spawn before? They’re… still vampires technically, but they’re not people anymore, not like we are. Some vampires make spawn on purpose, but it’s pretty messed up.” He should know, he’d done it a few times for shits and giggles. It had never turned out as funny as he had thought it would.

Milo resisted the urge to let out a huff of breath, of course White Crest was filled with witches. It seemed as though you could roll a dice on supernatural creatures and run into one the second you opened your door. “It sounds pretty cool.” He admitted. “But I can’t think of any reason why I might need magic… apart from the whole sleeping thing.” And maybe he should hold off on that for now. If magic could come with complications, didn’t his life have enough of those already? Humming softly as he considered the offer, he shot Harsh a sheepish grin. He was grateful he wasn’t being judged, or even reprimanded for his blatant intentions, but he hadn’t been expecting such a genuine level of support. “You’ve already done so much for me… I mean, only if it isn’t too much trouble?” Teeth. He felt sure he would remember visiting any place with such a distinctive name. “Uh… no,” he said, hoping to prompt a further explanation. There weren’t many establishments in White Crest he hadn’t frequented at least once before. And now he was incredibly curious to know more.

Feeling the atmosphere shift, becoming more serious as Harsh considered his latest question, he watched his fingers as they drummed against the surface of the table, the noise was quiet but incredibly distracting. Hearing the words, feeling them wash over him as his brain began to process what they meant, he had to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. “I… drank somebody’s blood?” He asked, repressing a shudder. Drinking blood now was part of his every day routine, but he had been human then. Had he willingly taken it, or had his attacker forced it upon him? “Spawn?” He nodded, a frown creasing his brow as he looked back down at his list. The question ‘What does Spawn mean?’ jumping out at him in his clumsy, familiar handwriting. “Someone mentioned them to me once… but I didn’t know what they meant.” Feeling his stomach jolt as he realised he could have become the something other Harsh was talking about, he wondered what his chances had been. Whether he should be considering himself lucky for waking up as a vampire. “How do you make them? Is it the same… process?” He asked. If they could be created intentionally then surely there was a technique. “How do you know what somebody is going to become?”

“You never know. It’s pretty helpful if you lose something.” Harsh wasn’t about to list off his big reason for needing magic. But he should. Milo should know. He should tell him the truth. No… there was no reason to scare the kid. And it wasn’t like he owed him that information. Souls were personal. If Milo found out about them, Harsh could tell him then. Why was he even so hung up on it? It wasn’t like it mattered. He was faking it perfectly fucking well. No reason to go and throw all that away. “It’s no problem, kid. I don’t get out enough anyway.” Probably better to have someone around for Milo’s first big vamp outing. There were a lot of bad influences out there. Harsh should know. He used to be one of the worst. Plus, if Milo went on some kind of drug fuelled blood bender, that would just make things more difficult for everyone. “We can hit it up this weekend if you want, see if it’s your scene.”

Huh, so Milo really didn’t remember any of it. That was… rough. Harsh could still remember his. Well, parts of it at least. He hadn’t been alone. Eleanor had held his hand as the world went dark around him and been there when he woke up desperate to feed. Poor kid didn’t have any of that. “Yeah, that’s… kind of how it works,” he said, with a little wince. So he had at least heard of spawn, that was better than nothing. “Spawn give us a bad name. They’re the ones slayers should be dealing with.” He nodded, arms crossing over his chest. “Same process. I… don’t know exactly. I’ve always thought of it as an intent sort of thing. I know it can be done on purpose.” No need to tell Milo he knew at least partially from experience. “When you turn someone… it’s kind of this whole… thing. Siring someone isn’t something most people do lightly. I guess I’ve always thought of it as kind of a willpower and focus sort of thing. When you sire someone, you have to mean it, you have to want it. And if that’s not strong enough… it can go wrong. It gets easier to turn someone else properly the longer you’ve been at it. I’ve known some people who just turned who try to bring their family along for the undead ride and… it doesn’t usually go well.”

“I don’t have all that much to lose these days.” Milo admitted, thinking about the meagre collection of belongings he had managed to salvage from his friend’s house. He should probably go home, he still needed clothes, his laptop, and maybe there were even a few comic books he couldn’t live without. But the task felt so daunting. Watching Harsh, noticing the shadow of an emotion he couldn’t quite place, he wondered whether the older vampire had ever lost anything. Maybe one day he would ask him. “I, uh…” He shifted uncomfortably, thinking about how ready he was to walk into a room full of vampires. His killer could be there and he might never even know. “Maybe… I’m still getting used to going out again, period. It’s a- it’s a weird adjustment.” He offered a smile, letting his roommate know he was incredibly grateful for the offer. For everything. He wasn’t sure where he would be without the man sitting opposite him, who worked in a hospital, and liked to cook human food just for the fun of it. He cared about him, in an altogether unexpected way. He had been saved by Harsh. It was undeniable at this point.

“From the way it sounds they don’t mean to give us a bad name.” He pointed out, feeling a strange pang of sympathy for the monsters being described. It was a horrifying thought, becoming twisted, and warped in a way that forced you to lose who you were forever. At least he was still Milo, at least he could cling to the things that made him exactly who he was. “So… the person who did this to me, they wanted me to become a vampire. They cared enough for this-” He gestured vaguely to his neck, wrinkling his nose as he remembered the scars there. “To be successful, just not enough to stick around, I guess…” Letting out a huff of breath, he tried not to look affected, finally picking up his fork and taking a mouthful of his stir fry, if anything just for something to do. Glancing up again at the mention of people turning family, he couldn’t imagine that thought ever even crossing his mind. Maybe because he refused to acknowledge the way his future stretched out before him. Maybe because he didn’t want to admit the fact that one day his parents would no longer be there for him. Everything about the idea felt wrong, somehow. Dooming your family simply because you yourself had been doomed. He was never going to be that person. “M’kay…” He hurried to swallow, turning his attention back to the notebook, to the final question written at the edge of the page. “The last question is probably dumb but… you know the whole sunlight thing? What does happen if we stay out in the sun? When I first… y’know, I was in the sun for a while and I started to feel... I can’t explain it, I just knew I had to find some shade. Do we just get ill, and weak, or is it something more than that?”

A weird adjustment period was putting it pretty mildly. Even more than a hundred years later, Harsh remembered the shift being rough. He returned Milo’s smile easily. Milo was a good kid. He didn’t ask for any of this shit, not like Harsh did. The fact that he had been left high and dry to figure it all out on his own… even without a soul, it rubbed Harsh the wrong way. At his very worst, he had still stuck around to make sure the vamps he sired knew what was up. It was just the thing to do. “Don’t worry if it takes you a while. It’s better to be safe than sorry with… everything. But you’ve got time now, man, you don’t have to rush it.” That was a pretty big perk of the whole undeath thing. Milo had at least a couple centuries before him if he wanted them… and if he was careful. But that was always a pretty big if with new vampires. If Harsh was smart, he wouldn’t get attached, wouldn’t get invested. Harsh had never really considered himself particularly bright.

“They don’t,” Harsh said, sighing. “They don’t mean to do anything but feed. It’s not their fault really… spawn can’t really think like we can. Everything gets stripped away except that hunger.” It was pretty bleak if he actually thought about it. Usually, he didn’t. That was easy, not dwelling, not thinking. But Milo wasn’t like him. Milo still had his soul, he still felt for people. Now that was an interesting question. Did whoever turned Milo actually care? What were they after? Why him? Harsh nodded slowly. “They meant for this to happen. Whoever it was, whatever reason they had… they wanted you to be this way.” Probably. Harsh had heard of plenty of people accidentally creating spawn. But he had never heard of someone accidentally siring someone if they meant them to go the other way. Sunlight, that was another good question, even if it had Harsh fighting down a wince. “You don’t want to test it, trust me. If you stay out too long, you start to burn. Remember how we’re flammable? Think of the sun like the biggest lighter out there. It just takes a while to get the fire going.”

“Yeah…” Milo agreed, despite feeling as though maybe he was taking too long. Had Harsh been this shaken up when he first became a vampire? How long did it take him to stop feeling nervous, and scared? But he did have time, an awful lot of time, and somebody willing to be patient with him. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe, for the first time in his life, he was being forced to process change in a healthy manner. “Thank you…” He added, struck by a sudden sense of gratitude. “I mean, I know I say that enough for the phrase to lose all meaning but I do still mean it.” Taking another mouthful of stir fry, chewing it for longer this time to see if he could bring out any more flavour, he used his fork to push the food around his plate, listening as Harsh began to elaborate on Spawn. The subject made him uncomfortable for so many reasons. Because it made him anxious knowing he could have become one, because it upset him to know other people were suffering, because there was no way to save them, or teach them how to live again. It was over. It was a fate worse than death.

Letting out a quiet huff of breath, he hesitantly glanced back up at his friend. They meant for this to happen. It was one thing to draw a conclusion himself, another thing entirely for Harsh to tell him he was right. There was no room for doubt, his roommate was speaking the truth. But that only left him with more questions, questions he might never find answers to. “Yeah, well… fuck him, right?” He muttered, wishing he could say the words and miraculously let go of his trauma. Even though speaking them did offer him a degree of satisfaction, it was never going to be quite that easy. Raising his eyebrows as Harsh seemed to wince at the mention of sunlight, he was so relieved for the distraction that he found himself resisting the urge to laugh. It wouldn’t exactly be appropriate until he understood the context, until he knew what Harsh had been through to warrant such a reaction. But a vampire being so averse to sunlight that he didn’t even like somebody mentioning the sun was amusing. He couldn’t pretend otherwise. “Right,” he nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. “Like an ant under a magnifying glass, jeez…” Repressing a shudder, he made the conscious decision not to dwell on the information. He could truly consider everything he had learned in the morning, when he was curling up in bed, alone, and safe underneath his comforter. Now he only wanted to enjoy an evening with Harsh, his roommate, his friend… his mentor? It was true, he wasn’t sure where he would be without him. But he did know, all things considered, that he was more than content with where he had ended up.

#drug abuse tw #drug use tw #medical blood tw #drug manipulation tw #overdose tw #needles tw #milo and harsh #c:harsh

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