#he hurt himself in his confusion

[extravagav]

Yk I never did truly recover from the sick fic chapter

[tangledinink]

For the Swanatello fam: what does everyone miss most about Donnie during his lake-induced absences?

for donnie, leo will gladly give every scrap of patience and grace and gentleness he has. he doesn't mind explaining things. he doesn't mind telling his brother the same things over and over. he doesn't mind it when donnie forgets or doesn't understand or needs his help to remember or process things.

but he misses the banter. the back-and-forth. the stupid fights and pranks and 'you said's' and 'i told you so's.' and, perhaps a bit selfishly, he misses when he didn't always feel like he had to be the bigger person for him. he misses when he still had the space to be childish and immature and petty towards his twin, and it wouldn't hurt either of them the way it tends to now.

[ swanatello ]

[nelkcats]

Selfish Desires

Danny was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running and tired of repeating the same routine day after day. Even Desiree could tell that the halfa didn't take her as seriously as he should, but she didn't complain. The boy had a rough couple of days.

That's why the ghost sighed and called for two chairs instead of continuing fighting. Danny didn't know what made him do what he did, but he told Desiree what was bothering him.

"They still don't understand," Danny murmured, his voice cracking, "I thought they needed time, I gave them time, but I don't think it helped."

"That's probably because you're the only halfa in existence, and they are humans" Desiree shrugged, "you know, neither Plasmius nor your clone are the same as you, that makes it a bit hard for them to understand you"

Danny was frustrated, frustrated because he knew the ghost was right, he was the only one who didn't fit in with anyone, so he made a rash decision. He ignored his own rule and wished.

"I wish there was someone who would understand," Danny said, allowing himself to be selfish, "or someone who could come to understand, someone like me."

Desiree looked at him curiously but shrugged before snapping her fingers. Her power was growing because of the wish, but she didn't really care. Maybe she'd go back to the Realms for a few days, Danny was annoying, but even stupid kids with hero complexes deserved a break.

A few metres away, a boy with a red helmet on his head appeared. Jason had just lost contact with his family and his satellite equipment wasn't working. He frowned and examined the partially destroyed city around him, where had he fallen?

[crustyfloor]

The idea of Till having a certain sentiment of regret, hate? towards Ivan for what he did in round 6 jumbled up with his already mixed feelings about Ivan because of the person he is and how he treated Till when they were kids up until now, it's a lot. It breaks my heart but feels a little too real.

[yuseirra]

inspired from the small panels in 154

I think they'd have been able to raise the kids pretty well together..

[tinybro]

jasico server was chatting about the cupid scene and jason getting nico's memories blasted straight into his brain and how jason being shot with one of cupid's arrows while with nico and this was just never brought up in canon again and now i'm thinking like...what if that's just how cupid's arrows work? not by magically manifesting love for someone out of nothing, but by giving someone the perspective that'd make them fall in love naturally? jason gets a front row seat to nico's memories and instantly understands him intimately and can trust him completely without any doubt or suspicion

so what if jason, after slowly realizing he's totally in love with nico, just thought back to the arrow incident and it made him second-guess everything? because maybe he's only feeling this way because cupid hit him with an arrow with only nico was around and it's no different than any other god messing with his love life

[vegaseatsass]

Reality tv is so fucking dangerous for me because my brain still whirs as if I'm watching fictional characters but I'm NOT and I should NOT be blorbofying or armchair diagnosing these irl human beings, it's simply safer for me to never ever engage. Tl;dr my god the exes on His Man 3 have eaten my mind, I can't stop thinking about them. I won't share REAL PERSON HEADCANONS (basically: who pings as neuroatypical) but I went from thinking Myeongkyun was the most hilarious entertaining television figure I'd seen in years to being really truly gutted for him and his like, slow struggling emotional processing which makes him sooooo frustratingly opaque even though he is trying, and his fuckboy affect which is so deceptive for how confusingly deeply (but just. sloooooowly) he actually feels. Youngjoon has been my favorite contestant this entire time (well, Youngjoon and Seungjin but let's not get me started on how it feels to watch Seungjin go untreasured episode after episode) and Hanmin jumped way up there in episodes 7 and 8 too because who knew he was the absolute kindest and most supportive and emotionally intelligent person in that entire house, I'm rooting SO HARD for him and Youngjoon I think they're such a crazy good match for each other augh. So the thing I find so compelling about Myeongkyun and Youngjoon's conflict is that it's really easy for me to understand where both of them were coming from; as absolutely maddening as it is to imagine being in Youngjoon's shoes and trying with so much hyperverbal self-awareness to reach some kind of clarity and just being hit in the face again and again with Myeongkyun's blase opaqueness, I really DO think they were both trying super hard and in good faith in that exhausting conversation! It understandably didn't FEEL that way to Youngjoon, as Myeongkyun led him in circle after circle, but I'm seriously like unhinged with how much I feel for Myeongkyun rn and his visible overwhelm. When Youngjoon was about to leave and tell Myeongkyun to figure things out on his own and Myeongkyun told him it's actually easier for him !!! to sort through his feelings with him there !!!! that's such an admittance, he absolutely was trying that whole time but what comes out of his mouth is sooooooooo not intelligible and thus as infuriating as humanly possible for Youngjoon, this incredibly verbal, emotionally analytic overthinker. They're such a bad match lmao and it's so so sad that Myeongkyun just assumed their relationship was moving as slowly as his feelings do and not that he was fully ghosted dklfjslkdfja I can just see BOTH THEIR SIDES I'm almost always on the side of the person who is like "how was I supposed to know what you ghosting me meant? I kept contacting you because I just thought you were busy!" vs. the ghoster who is all ugh dude why couldn't you read the room? but if Myeongkyun has always been like this - answering a direct question with "Maybe I'm ENTJ!" or "I don't want to tell you" or munch munch munching and "mmm"-ing and blinking and never ever answering what he was actually asked - it's pretty easy to understand why Youngjoon would assume this is a guy who neither cares about nor requires direct communication of any kind.

Lol sorry I've never posted into this tag before and this is a super incoherent blur of feelings before I go offline for the next two days but I just have to get it out of my system because I don't think I've ever had a reality show change my perception of somebody as much as Myeongkyun just like. Visibly hanging on by a thread while saying all the absolute wrong things in his stupid cool guy voice. and then breaking down as soon as he was alone. did. "Dating Minseon is... a possibility" went from sounding like a half-assed non-commitment to me, to Myeongkyun very seriously working through his feelings at his regular slow slow speed, and I'm fully rooting for them as well atp.

I wish this season had more friendship and less shady secret missions because everyone is so miserable... including me, who is sitting here typing nonsense instead of posting about my safely fictional characters.

[chosowhore]

pretty sure choso cried ugly when he saw that he left bruises on you after sex (he doesn't know his own strength but you were def into it )

[bacchuschucklefuck]

the boy-but-not-that-way-ism of riz gukgak send tweet

[worstloki]

been thinking of Loki as a vengeful ghost/demon that tries to kill Thor after dying on Jotunheim except instead of killing Thor straightup Thor's on a quest following a trail of weird clues and strange happenings across multiple realms sort of? so Loki is just leading him around not showing himself but very much heartbroken in the distance about how Thor just 'moved on'. Meanwhile on Thor's end it's very evident in how Thor handles quests once Loki is gone that he still follows all the advice and suggestions Loki made, and tries to consider what Loki would have done when he does things.

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[shitgoblindingleberry]

y’all ever think about how till probably thought ivan was actually trying to kill him and he CLOSED HIS EYES like yall he WANTED ivan to kill him cause he didn’t see the point of advancing anymore and since he had his eyes closed he didnt notice that he won the round ONLY IVAN DID so till was expecting to be strangled to death only to open his eyes and find the only other person besides mizi he ever cared about DEAD

im

[cringelordofchaos]

Actually I have just now decided I really like Luke (I just gave him mommy issues ☠️ and it worked)

[swampthingking]

oh! oh </3 oh!! okay!

[quietwingsinthesky]

for the ship ask game, have you ever thought about simm!master/eleven? would you like to?

would i ever!!!!!!

this was the basis of one of my posts about little amy so long ago. a hypothetical s5 where the master sticks with the doctor after he regenerates. but like can we talk about how insane that dynamic between him and amelia, the literal eight year old, would be. look at me. one of the defining things of eleven's run is that the first face he saw was amy's. seared onto his hearts!!! now, imagine that happens in a world where the master did everything right to be that person, and it was still amy. the tardis crashed, and the doctor went one way and the master went the other, and by the time the master drags himself soaking wet out of what was the swimming pool and into amelia's garden, the doctor is already having dinner with some random human child.

things simm!master is not above: being a little bitch to amy about this. yes, even when she's eight. (amelia pond with her stories about her magical raggedy doctor!! ...and the trash rat who crawled out of his time machine after him and threatened to eat her. wait okay hold on i know im getting distracted here but aslkjdalkjsd rory who amy makes dress up as the doctor vs mels who insists on dressing up as the master because she craves violence and an excuse to bite people.)

ANYWAY. god. eleven who is this bottomless well of grief and rage. and the master who is so much like him in this incarnation. silly goofy guys who burn too bright, burn up everything and everyone around them. what is simm!master if not a version of eleven untempered by kindness. i wonder what the master would have to say about a version of the doctor who is aware of how scared people are of him and uses it to his advantage. who scares the rest of the universe so much that they try to lock him away and kill him and do anything they can to get rid of him. when they lock the doctor up in the pandorica, does the master give him the final shove into the chair or is he a few feet away, just barely restrained, impotently snapping and snarling to prevent this?

but never looking at it directly, right? neither of them would be able to. not at what's between them, not at what came before. if you don't talk about that time you both saved each other, then maybe you can pretend it didn't happen.

i think the master would make eleven worse, no doubt about it. i think eleven might just make the master a little better, and he'd hate that but that wouldn't stop it from happening. they might find some sort of equilibrium, just this once, a little willing to bend in the aftermath of the events of the end of time. that part of the master that will be missy one day wakes up. the part of the doctor that was once the time lord victorious gets a last glorious breath. they can have that, together.

okay. okay. one last thing. gets ill thinking about eleven who is so physically affectionate being that way with the master. with mr 'im going to kiss my wife i married for political gain like im starving'. with mr 'time lord telepathy does not require physical contact but if we don't touch foreheads right now ill die'. with mr 'fuck u but also im gonna die in your arms, don't leave or let me go before everything falls quiet.' thinks about eleven touching him and hugging him and kissing him and- thinks about the master recoiling from it, hackles raised, or shoving the doctor away when he does. thinks about the doctor not stopping. thinks about the master getting accustomed to his touch, taking it greedily. (thinks about missy kissing the doctor to greet him later.)

yeag <3

[put any ship in my ask box and i’ll give my brutally honest opinion]

[scalproie]

my extremely corny and indulgent but satisfying and symbolic ideal scenario for Kazuya and Jin to fully Break The Cycle™️ would be for one of them to grab and save the other from falling off a great height. perhaps even a cliff.