#Here's hoping I tagged this right

[aquietwritingcorner]

Snowball Fight

@tmnt-event-blog

Title: Snowball Fight Challenge: TMNT-Event-Blog's "Snow Day Play" Bingo Card (Leonardo) Prompt: Snowball Fight  Fandom:  TMNT 2003 Word Count: 2,379  Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: G/K  Characters: Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Michelangelo, Splinter Warning: NA Summary: Leonardo thinks that the snow is the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. Too bad a certain pair of brothers would rather play. But that’s okay. If Raph and Mikey want to have a snowball fight, then Leo and Don will bring it on.      Notes: The turtles are somewhere between eight and ten here, I think.    AO3 || ff.net

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Snowball Fight

Leonardo looked around at the park in wonder. It was so white, everything covered in a blanket of snow. His breath came out in little white puffs in front of his face, and he turned slowly, taking in the way that the snow glistened underneath the lights of New York City. It was beautiful, and he’d never seen anything quite like it.

Normally, Master Splinter kept them inside during the winter, at least as much as possible. Their burrow was warm, especially since Donnie had figured out how to get them heaters and stuff down there. They still tended to be very sleepy as it got colder, sometimes sleeping for entire days or longer but they did that less and less as they got older. This year, while they still laid around, they didn’t sleep quite as much.

Maybe that was why Master Splinter had decided to bundle them all up in a lot of layers of clothes—with two pairs of pants, layered socks, a couple of shirts, a light jacket and a coat, layers of mittens, hats, scarves and, worst of all, shoes—and take them up to the surface this year. Maybe it was because they weren’t falling asleep anymore and he thought that they were big enough now. Big enough to go to the park at night and look at the snow.

Leonardo knew what snow was. He’d seen it before, although only from the sewers. It was usually wet and goopy and dirty by then, but sometimes he’d seen some of it white, when it was new and hadn’t had the chance to get dirty yet. And he’d seen it on TV and in books. He and his brothers had even played with some of it when it fell into the sewers. But this was his first time seeing it like this, like how the humans must see it.

And despite the cold that bit at his face and the layers of clothes that made it hard to move and the shoes, Leonardo thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And then something big, cold, and wet hit him on the back of the head.

Leonardo went stumbling, only just catching himself before he face planted in the snow, and he whirled around to look at where it had come from. Raph and Mikey were a few yards behind him, up on a little hill. Raph was standing there, grinning a snowball in his hand, and Mikey was crouched beside him, grinning, with a small pile of snowballs next to him.

“Gotcha, Leo!” Raph said, as he tossed the snowball he had in his hand up and down. Beside him, Mikey giggled, putting his hands over his mouth.

Leo’s eyes narrowed “Raph,” he complained, reaching back to wipe the snow from the back of his head, “that wasn’t fair! Who even said I wanted to play that!”

“Play what?” Donnie asked, suddenly coming up beside Leo. That was as far as he got, though, before a snowball got him right in the face, sending him tumbling back and into the snow.

“Donnie!” Leo said, hurrying to the side of his stunned brother.

Mikey, clearly the culprit, was laughing loudly, rocking in the snow even as Don slowly sat up and wiped the snow from his face.

Don turned shocked and confused eyes on Leo. “What happened?” he asked.

Leo’s eyes hardened and he turned his glare onto his two other brothers. “Oh, that’s it! You wanna snowball fight, you’ve got one!”

Leo reached down and hauled Donnie to his feet, dragging his confused brother with him as snowballs began to pelt the area around them, more than a few hitting them. Raph had good aim, after all. Leo drug them back behind a small hill that they could hunker down behind.

“Leo, what’s going on?” Donnie asked as he rubbed the last of the snow from his face.

“Raph and Mikey have declared war on us,” Leo said. “A snowball war.”

“A snowball war?” Donnie repeated. “Don’t you mean a snowball fight?”

“Mikey threw a snowball right at your face,” Leo said flatly. “Don’t you think that’s more than a snowball fight?”

Don was quiet for a moment, and then nodded. “Okay, good point. So, what do we do? Besides throw snowballs at them, I mean.”

Leo pressed his lips together and looked over the top of their hill for a moment. A spattering of snowballs hit the hill at that, and Leo had to duck down again.

“They’ve got the advantage,” Leo said. “They’ve got a stockpile and the high ground. We don’t have anything.”

Don looked thoughtful, and then began scooping up snow. “Then I suppose the first order of business would be to get a stockpile of our own.”

Leo nodded and started making snowballs as well. “They’re going to have the advantage, still, though,” he said. “They’ve gotten a head start.”

“Yeah, but they’re gonna have a supply and demand issue,” Don said, “because both of them are throwing and neither one is making.”

Leo frowned. “When they run out, it could give us an advantage, if we already have a stockpile. But it won’t last forever. We’ll run out, too. Even if one of us keeps making snowballs while the other throws, they’ll still have two people throwing and making at once. And you know that neither of them is going to care if the snowballs even stay together. We’re going to need another plan.”

Don frowned. “You’re right.” He looked down at the pile of snowballs they had. “Think you can make do with these for a moment? I have an idea.”

Leo looked at Don curiously but nodded. When Don had an idea, it was usually a good idea to listen or let him do it. “Sure. I can keep them back with these for a bit.”

Don grinned. “Be right back,” he said, slipping off into the night.

Leo had no idea what his brother had planned, but he took a snowball from their small stockpile and hurled it at his other two brothers. He heard Mikey yelp and grinned. For the next few minutes, Leo exchanged volleys with Raph and Mikey, strategically picking his throws as he only had so many snowballs. His supply was starting to run low when Don suddenly appeared back behind the hill, carrying one of his coats over his shoulder, it clearly full of something, and a large stick that branched in his hand.

“What’s that for?” Leo asked.

Don grinned. “You’ll see. But for now—” He opened up his coat, revealing a large pile of snowballs that he started sitting down on the ground.

“Donnie! How’d you get all of those?” Leo asked, his jaw dropping.

“Outsourcing,” Donnie said with a grin. “We should get more soon.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Leo said with a grin, “but I’m glad you do!”

“How’s it going?” Don asked, peeking over the top of the hill as he pulled his coat back on. A snowball nearly hit him in the face.

“Not so good,” Leo said. “They’re able to move around and get other angles, but we’re stuck here unless we want them to get us.” He lobbed another snowball, and grinned as he heard it hit Raph. “

“Too bad we don’t have air support,” Don said, sticking the stick he had in the ground at an angle, bending it back.

Leo paused, and looked up at the hill where his brothers were. There was a tree that they were partially under. A tree that had lots of snow on it.

“Maybe we can,” he said slowly. “Hey, Donnie, what are going to do with that stick?”

Donnie was unwinding his scarf from around his neck and winding it around the fork of the branch. He paused. “I was gonna make us a catapult to send snowballs. Why?”

Leo grinned. “Think your catapult could hit the tree above them?”

Don paused, looking at the tree, and then down at his catapult, before darting over to the pile of dwindling snowballs. He glanced at the tree once more, and then over at Leo. “I think so,” he said, “although we’ll have to be fast to get up the hill to them.”

“No,” Leo said, “only you have to be fast enough to get up the hill to them,” he said.

“Me?” Don said. “What will you be doing?”

“Gimmie your hat. The one underneath,” Leo said. “And one of your outer mittens.”

Don quickly went to do as Leo said, as Leo pulled his own outer hat and one of his outer mittens off.

“I’m going to sneak around back behind them,” Leo said. “You’re going to stay here and get ready to fire the catapult. As soon as you do and the snow from the tree falls on them, I’ll attack from behind. Then you’ll run up the hill and attack them from the front,” he explained.

Don’s eyes lit up with understanding. “And I’ll switch hats and mittens to make it look like both of us are still here,” he said.

Leo grinned and nodded. “Exactly.”

“That’s a good plan,” Don said. “But let’s wait just a minute before we start it.” He paused, thinking. “Our next order should be here soon.”

“Order?” Leo asked curiously.

“My sons?”

Leo and Don turned to see Splinter approaching their small hill. He smiled at them.

“I have your request, Donatello,” he said, lowering the cloth in his arms to reveal a very sizable pile of snowballs.

“Thanks, Sensei!” Don chirped happily. Leo stared at him, and Don shrugged. “Like I said—outsourcing!”

Don went back to adjusting his catapult, getting it aimed just right, before starting to load the scarf with snowballs. Splinter watched, amused, and Leonardo adjusted his hats and mittens.

“Alright, Don. Gimme about five minutes,” Leo said.

Don nodded, making sure he had both hats and mittens. “Can do, Leo. Sensei, do you think you could hold this right here?” he said, gesturing to the catapult.

“Of course, my son,” Splinter said, putting a paw on the edge of it to keep the tension as Don wanted it.

Leo slipped off into the dark, taking a more indirect path around the area. He didn’t want to risk being seen, or let his tracks be seen in the snow. He did his best to slip between the trees and bushes without disturbing anything, sneaking closer and closer to Raph and Mikey. He could hear them yelling, taunting both Don and him. Leo grinned. It looked like the plan was working.

He finally managed to sneak around behind them, and hid himself in a bush, waiting. He estimated that he had used about four minutes up. Donnie would be precise with his timing, Leo knew, so all he had to do was wait.

Leo counted down the seconds, and, right on time, there was a loud thwack! and then the snow from the tree above Raph and Mikey slid off and fell down on them. Leo heard both of his brothers cry out, and he sprang out from the bush. Raph and Mikey were pushing their way up out of the snow that had fallen on them. Leo took advantage and launched at them in a flying tackle.

“Ahhhhhh!” he cried out, and both of his brothers turned to stare at him with wide eyes. Leo took both of them down, sending all three of them rolling down the hill, at least partway.

Raph managed to wrench himself free, turning to jump on Leo and push him off of Mikey when a snowball hit him, hard, in the side of the face, sending him tumbling back. Leo could see him turn and grab a snowball that had tumbled down with them and throw it.

But Don, who was rushing them, had brought his catapult with him, and he caught it in the “net” of his scarf, using the momentum to hurl it right back at Raph. Leo could see Raph’s eyes widening in surprise, and before he could react, the snowball had hit him in the chest and Don was pouncing on him, sending the two of them rolling until Don managed to get Raph pinned with the help of his catapult.

“No fair!” Raph was crying out. “It was a snowball fight! And you got a weapon! That ain’t fair!”

Mikey had already stopped squirming under Leo, having given up, and the two of them watched as Don kept Raph pinned down.

“Alright, my sons, that is enough,” Splinter said with a smile as he trudged halfway up the hill to where they were. “I believe that Leonardo and Donatello have won this time.”

Donnie grinned and pulled back from Raph, letting his brother get up, and Leo did the same to Mikey, helping him up before he made his way to Donnie’s side for a high three.

“We did it!” Don said.

“We sure did!” Leo said. “Your catapult was a great idea!”

“Not as good as your idea about the snow on the tree,” Don said.

“Yeah, well, you got Master Splinter to make us snowballs,” Leo said.

“What?” Raph looked at all of them, slightly betrayed. “Sensei, you made snowballs for them?”

Mikey tugged on Splinter’s coat. “Why didn’t you make snowballs for us?” he asked.

“You did not ask,” Splinter said simply. “But you all did well, tonight. I hope that you had fun, my sons.”

All four of the brothers looked at each other, and Leo grinned at his brothers. Raph hesitated for a moment, and then he grinned back.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “I think we did.”

“Good,” Splinter said, ushering them back towards the edge of the park and towards the manhole cover they had come through.

Leo twisted around to look back at the park. The snow was no longer smooth and like a blanket. It was turned up and rough, and there were tracks all in it. But it still sparkled, and Leonardo still looked at it through the puffs of breath that came from his mouth. He still thought it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, maybe even more so now.

[favroitecrime]

world war 3 jokes on twitter meanwhile none of them live in the region and none of them understand the severity of the situation. these next few hours will really determine whether or not we head into a regional war…

[sparklingsora]

im working on more veeswap au stuff to show you folks but in the meantime take this polyvees shitpost (quote from what we do in the shadows)

[spilycoris]

etc etc that one madoka comic but make it cotl etc etc . .

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 2

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[saragrosie]

I have been sketching. So much tma. Here's some expansions on my Jon and Martin designs I've been doing.

Another note I forgor to mention is I love how after hearing Simon go "it's enough to make your hair turn white" about Martin's office in s4 many of us collectively agreed his hair turned white because of his association with the Lonely. The shared consciousness is real and we use it to play hot potato with the communal brain cell dedicated to the sillies.

Closeup of apocalypse boyfriends (also to the person who said they love my s5 Jon's fancy white girl updo: I think about that every day)

[bluewolfangel01]

How the brothers make sure you're safe in the Devildom: Older Bros edition

Lucifer

Papa Luci mode activated

He has to know where you are or where you're going if you want to go out

It doesn't matter to him that you have 7 of the most powerful demons under your command or that you're training under humanity's most power sorcerer

You are required to have someone with you when traveling anywhere in the Devildom

If he doesn't know where you are, for some reason, he while be doing everything he can just to figure out your location

Of course he isn't going to panic just yet mind you, he'll first ask his brothers if they know where you are

Ex. he makes Levi track your phone or asks Mammon to locate you via crow familiar

If none of them know, then he's going to ask the dateables and side characters

And if they don't know?

He (and the everybody else of course) are going to tear the Devildom apart to make sure that you're okay

And if you are not? May Father have mercy on whoever dared to lay a finger on you cause Lucifer won't

If he starts getting on your nerves about always having to know a general area of where you are, don't hold it against him to much

He just doesn't want you to get hurt, cause if you were you'd have a very said and pissed off Luci on your hands

Mammon

Two words: Crow familiar

Around when you made a pact with him, he gave you a crow familiar

He claimed that it was to make sure he didn't have to deal with Lucifer's punishment if you ever died or even got hurt

Don't let him fool you, that man just wants to make sure you're safe cause he cares about you so much

He has so many crows he sadly can't keep track of ALL their names, so he let's you name yours

The crow will of course love you to bits and do things for you because of his connection to Mammon and cause you treat them so nice

Pls have some seeds on you, the crow will adore you even more if you do

Whenever your out the crow will follow and watch you from a distance or maybe even close by depending on how big the crowds are

If you're ever in trouble and can't handle it (or even if you can) the crow network is put into use to alert Mammon

The second he is told he drops whatever it is that he's doing and he's rushing to get to you no matter what

He'd take out the threat so fast, you blink and it's gone and in its place is Mammon

He's smiling at you and saying how he just so happened to be in the neighborhood

Whatever the threat was seems to have disappeared and Mammon leads you away saying how he wants to show you something he wants to buy nearby

But if you listen closely, you can hear a series of loud caws coming around the area you were just at

Simp

Levithan

Although he doesn't go out of his room much, that doesn't mean that he can't protect you from the outside

Like previously mentioned, there's a tracker on your phone (all the brothers have the same on theirs, don't feel bad)

The only reason he checks it is either because Lucifer asked him or it's been a bit since he's seen or talked to you and wants to know that you're okay

The other way he protects you is checking online and keeping a lookout for any potential threats or nefarious plans against you

He won't intervene unless said people seem to be very serious or actually putting their plan into motion

If such a plan is in motion, he warns the rest of his brothers

No matter what arises if he either ends up stopping or warning the others about there's always the same result

Anything they want online, somehow they can't find it anywhere

They want to simply look about the internet? They best be prepared for all the pop up adds and bugs imaginable

Levi is making sure they never even think about hurting you ever again

This turned out longer then I originally thought it would be.... I promise to write about the other brothers!

[bixels]

I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

My Lawyer is going to Get Your Ass.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[tea-time221]

snrrkkk mimimimimi

good morning wyllstarion nation -holds this post out like its birdseed in my palms-

[crunchchute]

my attempt at a bunch of my fav artists styles :] idea by sootnuki!!

i would love to do more but this was already a huge challenge

if any artist here dislikes this/is uncomfortable with it/any reason i can take it down or turn off reblogs etc. otherwise i hope its ok 🫡 im not gonna tag anyone just gonna let it do its thing in the wild lol

[fiskael]

[Image description: Three photos of a knitted red dragon plush. End description.]

Made my very own tiny dungeon meshi dragon plush, that’s based on the version that only appears in the very last chapter for five pages and then is never seen again. I think it turned out pretty well.

I used this pattern to make it with some minor tweaks to the body, tails and legs and then just made some tiny cones for the horns at the end. If anyone would be intersted I might post the alterations and where to apply them but go check out the original pattern! I stuffed it both with acylic stuffing but also some plastic pellets for a bit of extra weight. The eyes are done with french knots.

Going to be adding manga spoilers below the read more with pictures of what I tried to get it to look like.

[Image description: Three panels from the manga showing Falin interacting with a baby dragon. End description.]

[courfee]

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about living. It’s easy, really, once you get the hang of it.

— orange slices and sunrises by @messymoony <333

[skellagirl]

Gordon/Barney/Alyx is really really funny to me conceptually bc it's like, two hot geniuses in their 20s who look at the 40-something smartass who hangs around and go 'yeah that guy. we both want him carnally'

[puddii-ng]

swan lake x valkyrie