#master and his doctor pet zoo

[thesilliestrovingalive]

Updated: September 19, 2024

Reworked Character #4: Fio Germi

POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNING: Viewer discretion is advised due to references to death and alcoholism.

Real name: Fiolina Hortensia Germi

Alias: Teatime in the Battlefield

Occupation: Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. and the medic of the P.F. Squad

Retirement plans: Become a sports doctor and astrophysicist, open up a bakery, and start a family

Special skills: Chiropractic and massage therapy, medical training, housework, acupuncture, and astronomy

Hobbies: All types of sewing (hand sewing, machine sewing, embroidery, and quilting), ballroom dancing, giving her friends massages, cooking delicious meals and enjoying it on a picnic outside, and frequenting petting zoos, nature reserves, and art and outer space museums

Likes: Peppino (she had him since birth), her family heritage, the beauty of nature and outer space, baking cakes and other sweet treats, and Tarma (especially the sound of his voice, pleasant smile, jokes, and knack for building professional motorcycles)

Dislikes: The idea of Peppino being torn apart or stolen, scolding hot and freezing cold baths, the time she had to wear orthodontic braces, insects and creepy crawlies, and cheating

Favourite food: Homemade sandwiches and gelato

Favourite drink: Ice tea (preferably Queen Mary)

Sexuality: Heteroromantic demisexual

Gender: Female

Age: 15 (in 2022), 21 (in 2028), 23 (in 2030), 25 (in 2032), 27 (in 2034), 34 (in 2041), 36 (in 2043), 37 (in 2044), and 40 (in 2047)

Blood type: O+

Weight: 145 lbs. (66 kg)

Design: She’s a 5’ 2” (157.48 cm) Italian mesomorph with sloping shoulders, upper arms that carry some of her weight, a bit of belly fat, voluptuous breasts and hips, and prominent thighs. She has pale ivory skin, droopy blue-grey eyes, and brownish freckles scattered across her face and neck. Fio has a tad messy orangish-brown hair with blunt bangs and straight strands that fall just above her shoulders, but she prefers to keep it tied up in a ponytail. Her fingernails are painted an English lavender hue, and she wears thick, winged dark brown eyeliner, a soft rosy red blush on her cheeks and nose, and cherry blossom pink lip gloss. As a result of battle injuries and her own clumsiness, she bears a bullet wound near the centre of her left calf and numerous cut marks, stab scars, and scrapes on her arms and legs.

Her military gear consists of polarised, silver-plated transition lens eyeglasses, a metal dog tag necklace with her name, and a cordovan Eisenhower jacket. She wears a pink lavender T-shirt with a dogwood rose stripe running along the front and a carmine bra underneath. She wears carmine gloves and a gold-buckled leather belt to secure her ebony army cargo shorts, which fall just above her knees. She also wears ebony paratrooper boots, dogwood rose knee and elbow pads, and over-the-calf bittersweet shimmer socks. She has a khaki waist pack attached to the front of her belt, which carries her nail polish, lip gloss, eyeliner, two makeup brushes (a large one and a small one), a makeup sponge, and a powder blush palette.

She wears a leather sheath for her hatchet, a gun holster for her handgun, and a holder for her tonfa. The pockets of Fio's Eisenhower jacket carry around Peppino, her beloved greyish-brown teddy bear with a pearlescent blue bowtie, a red wooden maneki-neko figurine with its right arm raised and its left paw holding a koban coin (a gift from Eri), and a deck of cards. The pockets of her army cargo shorts carry a canister of pepper spray, a Ventolin inhaler, a bottle of azithromycin pills, and a bottle of specialised prescription supplements specifically designed to manage her cystic fibrosis.

Over her T-shirt, she dons a Soldier Plate Carrier System (SPCS) with a MultiCam pattern, which carries her walkie-talkie and ammo for other firearms. Her black ammunition bandolier is slung over her right shoulder, and the back of her Eisenhower jacket features an embroidered S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. logo. Fio carries an ebony load-bearing backpack containing camping equipment, fire bombs, stones, portable ammo boxes, a canteen full of water, a picnic basket filled with prepared sandwiches, two machine guns, medical supplies, and a scientific telescope. She always wears a pair of teardrop-shaped pink opal earrings and a gold chain necklace featuring a red coral cornicello amulet, believed to ward off bad luck and bring good fortune. She also wears a khaki army cap that once belonged to her father during his military service, personalised with a rosy pink patch depicting a European bee-eater perched on a tree branch on the front.

Personality: She's initially reserved and timid around strangers but warms up and opens up once she becomes familiar with new people. She's a compassionate, considerate, and overly cautious listener who's really good with children and lends everyone a generous helping hand. She's sensitive and unafraid to show her true emotions, often engaging in introspective thought. Despite her quiet and calm demeanour, she's surprisingly prone to stress and anxiety, particularly when confronted with obnoxious noises or situations where she can't escape. Even though she's a seasoned warrior, she harbours an intense fear of insects and creepy crawlies, often resorting to hiding behind Tarma, Marco or Eri and insisting they handle the situation. On occasion, she displays an almost childlike naivety and exuberance, typically after completing a mission or while off duty.

She's a very friendly and gentle clean freak who'll do anything to help out her family, friends, comrades, and those in need. She prepares all her meals with love and dedication, considering others' likes and dislikes, hoping they'll enjoy what she's made. When talking to others, she often uses lively hand gestures and animated facial expressions to emphasise certain ideas. She gets easily flustered by compliments and flirtatious advances, blushing deeply and becoming nearly speechless. She's a somewhat superstitious person, believing in things like placing one's hat on a bed being a sign of bad luck for homeowners and spilling salt being a harbinger of financial troubles. She's a nature-loving girl who's incredibly clever and always thinks optimistically. She's a great strategist who excels in keep-away tactics. However, she often pushes people away due to fear and isn't the most skilled fighter, but can fight when necessary.

Whenever she's faced with the death of a child, a comrade or friend being severely injured, being touched inappropriately or being rudely insulted, her face darkens. She becomes cold-hearted and deadly serious, and her tactical prowess shines through most. She's quite curious around strangers, nervously trailing them and asking a few questions to get to know them. Despite cherishing the importance of friendship, she sometimes feels isolated by her exceptional intelligence, privileged upbringing, and cystic fibrosis. She values maintaining a healthy work-life balance and prioritising her time with loved ones, holding both in higher regard than success. She believes that living in or exploring beautiful places helps her become a better person by gaining a deeper appreciation of the world around her.

She originally harboured romantic feelings for Marco, but they dissipated after he disclosed that he isn't interested in romantic and sexual relationships. Her affections eventually shifted to Tarma, whom she found charming due to his silliness, emotional intelligence, Hokkaido dialect, and the soothing sound of his voice. She finds immense comfort in Tarma's presence and often offers him solace when he's having a rough day or struggling with self-doubt. After her romantic relationship with Tarma fully blossoms, she forms an exceptionally close physical and emotional bond with him. However, her tendency to become overly attached manifests at times, especially when feelings of fear or loneliness arise.

She eventually enters into a polyamorous queerplatonic relationship with Marco and Tarma, which she deeply cherishes and further satisfies her craving for emotional intimacy. She's displeased when Nadia takes advantage of her kindness to avoid responsibilities. Additionally, she's frustrated by Eri's overprotectiveness, especially when it comes to Tarma, as it reminds her of her father's behaviour and makes her feel like she's being treated like a child.

When she's reached her limit, feels threatened or needs to express her authentic feelings about something that gets under her skin, she's capable of standing up for herself and making her voice heard. She rarely swears, but when someone's pushed her too far, she'll unleash a stern reprimand, peppered with profanities in Italian. She's not fond of drinking alcohol due to its bitter taste and intoxicating effects, which make her feel nauseous and slightly nervous. However, on rare occasions, she’ll let loose and indulge in alcohol with her friends, especially after a challenging mission. When intoxicated, she starts to act playful, flirtatious and sexually teasing towards Tarma, obnoxiously loud, agitated, and bluntly honest. 

She has a tendency to fall asleep extremely quickly at bedtime or naptime, and her loud snoring can be disruptive to others who are trying to rest or focus on important tasks in the same room. She believes that war serves no purpose other than to be destructive, resulting from conflicts that escalate beyond the control of free will. In her view, war profoundly alters the moral fabric of society, while accelerating the advancement of weaponry and technology used in conflict. She’s a firm believer in virtue ethics who holds that life is more powerful than death, as it continually finds innovative ways to adapt and flourish.

Backstory: Fiolina Hortensia Germi was born on October 2, 2007 in Genoa, Italy. The Germi family is renowned for their vast wealth, military service, and philanthropic endeavours. Originally merchants and nobles, they amassed their fortune in the Mediterranean region during the Age of Exploration and have since maintained their wealth, now managing various corporations and philanthropic organisations. True to their militaristic heritage, the Germis have participated in numerous conflicts, including the Napoleonic Wars of the 1800s, the Italian Unification Wars of the 19th century, and modern-day wars against terrorism worldwide. Sadly, many Germi warriors lost their lives, leading to an important family custom where the chosen heir of the Germi family must serve in the military.

Alessandro Germi, Fio's father, was a fearsome soldier in the Regular Army in his earlier years, serving alongside Fabriclus Roving. However, he was forced to leave military service after being severely injured during a shootout, which left him crippled and suffering from debilitating post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). After returning to civilian life and receiving proper support, Alessandro successfully restored his family's struggling business. He also started a family with his beloved wife, Giulietta, a talented seamstress and manager of a luxurious art museum.

Alessandro's wish was to have a healthy son as he feared that sending a daughter onto the battlefield would be a perilous ordeal. To his surprise and dismay, Giulietta gave birth to a daughter, and due to health complications, she couldn't bear any more children. Fio's mother would also experience postpartum depression after childbirth and passed down a disease that runs deep within their heritage: cystic fibrosis. Alessandro's deep-seated fears for Fio's safety often led him to become overly protective, causing tension with his wife, Giuliette, who found his helicopter parenting suffocating.

Despite her parents' mental health struggles, they went above and beyond to care for her, providing unwavering love and support. For half of her elementary school years, she was homeschooled with her parents teaching a diverse range of subjects, including mathematics. They encouraged Fio’s appreciation for friendships, the outdoors, and the finer things in life. They even fostered her love of astronomy, gifting her a scientific telescope on her 10th birthday, which she still has to this day. Giulietta often took her on enriching outings to nature reserves and art museums, where she learned about biology and art history. Her mother also taught her the importance of domestic duties, showing her how to do her chores and clean the house. On special occasions, her mother would dress her up in pretty dresses and give her adorable animal plushies, which she still keeps.

She was bullied and exploited by the other children because of her wealthy status and overt politeness, but her father and teachers consistently intervened. As she grew, she discovered her own voice, learning to assert herself with courage and conviction. Standing up to her bullies with firm yet gentle confidence, she effectively silenced their taunts and earned respect. Like Marco, Fio excelled in all her classes, demonstrating exceptional academic prowess and a deep appreciation for effort and lifelong learning. However, her life took a devastating turn near the end of her secondary school days. A sudden and tragic terrorist airstrike, attributed to the Ptolemaic Army, struck Genoa, Italy, claiming Giulietta among its many victims. Her father was the most affected by this loss, turning to a life of alcoholism and self-isolation. Although Alessandro still cared about Fio and tried his best to support her, his alcoholism and newfound self-isolating behaviour made it challenging for him to do so.

It took time for Fio and Alessandro to heal from this loss, but they remained resilient. To cope with the loss of her mother, she turned to sewing, baking, and reading books on ancient and modern medical practices. Eventually, Alessandro sought help and went to rehab and therapy to address his issues with Fio's support and encouragement. After graduation, Fio was awarded multiple awards and scholarships, which enabled her to attend university. There, she pursued an interdisciplinary course of study, exploring chiropractics, acupuncture, physics, and astronomy.

Fio would eventually express her interest in joining the military after coming across a persuasive flyer to serve in the Regular Army. This revelation horrified Alessandro, as he didn't want to send his only child off to the battlefield, risking her life. He wanted to disregard the Germi's military traditions, believing that war is repugnant and a never-ending cycle of hate and violence. Alessandro tried to deter Fio from joining, but she persisted, driven by her desire to join the fight against terrorism and protect the lives of innocent people. He reluctantly agreed and sent her off to the military at the age of 19, but attempted to minimise her risk by using his connections and friends from his own military days to secure her a desk job, hoping to keep her out of harm's way and away from the front lines.

However, everything changed when a paperwork mistake caused by militant bureaucracy resulted in Fio's transfer to the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S., a special operations branch of the Regular Army's Intelligence Agency known for carrying out high-risk missions. Surprisingly, Fio was ecstatic to hear the news as she had been eager to be deployed on the battlefield and make a real difference. In contrast, her father was furious and stormed into military headquarters, threatening officers in an attempt to prevent his daughter from being shipped to the front lines.

He would often try to extract Fio from the battlefield, but she consistently resisted. Eventually, she had enough of his overprotectiveness and bravely told him that this was what she wanted—to fight on the battlefield and provide medical aid. She assured him that she was capable of handling herself. Alessandro finally understood and let her pursue her life as a military woman. In return, she promised to keep in touch with him after each mission, providing him with reassurance and comfort.

Like Eri, she played a crucial role in the Great Morden War by providing Marco's team with useful intel on Rebel Army positions. She also dedicated herself to providing medical support for Marco's team, which led to her being recognized as the medic for the Peregrine Falcons Squad. Her countless battles against worldwide criminality, terrorism, and corruption enabled her to rapidly rise through the ranks, becoming the Master Sergeant of the S.P.A.R.R.O.W.S. special forces unit. However, her time in the military has taught her a harsh reality: even the good guys can't always protect the innocent or save their friends and comrades. She has witnessed many deaths and severe injuries that left people crippled and traumatised in each battle. Nevertheless, with the emotional support of friends like Eri and Tarma, she has persevered and continues fighting to this day.

[ashtxeman]

*crashes through wall* got any aran hcs?

This post smells like BO, I think...

Aran is a strange lad to be sure. Everyone thinks he's a chaotic mess and a general nuisance, but in reality he's actually very chill! If you catch him on his own he's way quieter, albeit still loud but at least a bearable amount. He'll also crack jokes, have a good laugh, and if you're lucky he won't even say anything violent.

His top 'enemies' are Don, Narcis and Macho. 'Enemies' as in his favourite victims for pranks and other assorted Aran activities.. such as stealing Don's toupee and sticking it on a dog, replacing Narcis' shampoo with blended bananas or doing whatever the hell he feels like to Macho because Macho's too dull to predict anything. Not to mention all three of them have the best reactions, Don cusses him out in Spanish, Narcis cusses him out with some very creative nonsensical insults and Macho either gets confused or runs off screaming to Sandman.

Aran has a surprising amount of pets. Two weasels called Tom and Jerry (reference intended), a cat called Lucky, and a few lizards named Burren, Porter, Druid and Mulligan (all names of Irish pubs that Aran has definitely been to).

Aran is the biggest pansexual you'll ever see. He'll take anybody who comes his way, and then move on right after. The longest relationship he ever had lasted a week, and that was because he was in a coma for half of that week and couldn't tell her that he wanted to break up. The moment he woke up he asked her for a fiver and then went home and never spoke to her again. He continues to just take whatever comes along, but maybe beneath all of it he wants to find someone who can stay.

Aran got arrested for trying to fight a giant inflatable Santa when he got drunk, he spent a week in jail because he let all the animals out of a petting zoo, and another time he was arrested for illegally owning a pigeon (he called it Sky-Rat, when it was taken away he almost cried).

On a more serious note, he's been charged with assault 2 times because of some tedious fights.

Aran has some peculiar scars. He has a scar resembling a '7' on his chest because a fishing hook got caught on him whilst he was out with his Dad, but he also has one on his thigh because he tried to dive off a cliff and knocked himself on a rock.

He has one sibling, a younger sister named Erin. Their Mum, Fiona, thought it would be cute to give them similar names but they both hate it.

His Mum is in prison and his Dad is long gone, so he looks after Erin on his own.

His birthday is January 8th, the release date of the first Leprechaun movie.

Of course Aran can't drive. He's had his licence confiscated on five seperate occassions, but that doesn't stop him from finding a way to hop behind the wheel anyway.. just don't hop behind the wheel with him because you will either break something or die.

He is an absolute master at hiding pain. Usually he doesn't mind a bit of a sting but when things get bad (which they do), he hates to show it. There's a reason for it, that being..

He's deathly afraid of doctors.

Aran sneaks rides to Hondo's house so they can hang out together, plus he gets along well with Hondo's cat because they're both little bastards.

Huge anime fan. Similar to pain, he's a master at hiding it.

A very skilled artist! Not that he'd let anybody see his work..

He's a massive fan of fluffy pillows. There's nothing better than going home after a long day of making everybody elses day worse and snuggling into a poofy mass.

When his hair isn't in a ponytail he pretty much has a mullet.

Most of the time he has a four-leaf clover earing on his right ear, it's part of his brand.

He has a nickname for every boxer, albeit very uncreative ones. Examples include 'Cats' for Tiger and 'Bubbles' for Soda.

In the A-Bracket, Aran gets along best with Tiger and Hondo. His rival is Don.

In the B-Bracket, Aran gets along best with.. none of them, he doesn't go near them much because they smell like Narcis, who is of course his rival.

[lovemesomesurveys]

[chasingghosts @ bzoink]

What can you smell right now?   I smell my coffee energy drink that I just took a sip of.

What was the last thing you bought online?   It’s been awhile since I’ve done any online shopping since I just haven’t been in a shopping mood. It’s not fun when you spend all day at home in bed to go shopping for new clothes or accessories. I want to be able to wear them out somewhere, ya know?

If you drink coffee, when was the last time you went a day without having one?   I drink coffee daily, which for the past several months I’ve just been having a Starbucks Doubleshot energy drink. While I was in the hospital last year for 3 months I couldn’t eat or drink anything due to a breathing tube, later on trachea tube, so those definitely felt like the longest 3 months of my life.

Do you have any appointments coming up?   Not this month. 

Do you put appointments in your phone's calendar app to remember them?   Sometimes, but for the past several months my mom has just been writing them on the marker board calendar we have hung up in my room. She’s the one who typically keeps track of that stuff for me right now.

Will you be visiting anyone's house in the next week or so?   No. I won’t be going anywhere. 

Have you ever been to a petting zoo? What animals did you pet?   Yeah, as a kid. I remember there always be goats. 

What was the last movie you saw in theatres?   Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness last year. I didn’t know not long after I’d be admitted into the hospital. 

Do you know anyone who has done a PhD?   No. My brother recently decided to go back to school for his master’s and just got accepted into the program, which is amazing.

How many unread emails are in your inbox right now?   Omg, like well over 1,000. I used be on top of my emails and kept my inbox clean, but I got lazy with it for some reason. The notification used to bother me and help me stay on track; I don’t know what happened.

What four apps do you keep on the home bar on your iPhone? (Sorry, I'm not sure if Android has an equivalent!) Contacts, call, messages, emails.  

Have you ever used Tumblr? Do you still use it today?   Nope, what’s that?

Are you tired right now?   Very. One of the things about the edibles I found that seems to be helping my anxiety also makes me extremely tired. So, I’m napping more but whatever. What else am I doing?

What's your favourite day of the week and why?   I don’t have one.

How far away is the nearest major city?   A few hours.

Do you own an electric kettle?   Nope.

Are your eyebrows wispy or bushy?   Bushy.

Have you ever lost your wallet or purse? Did you have to replace a bunch of things?   No, thankfully. 

Where are you right now? Describe the room or place to me.   I’m in bed in my room. It’s a small room with a closet, dresser, tv, window, canvas art and posters hung up, marker boards, bulletin board, a side table, an office chair, and a shit ton of medical supplies. My room is small and cluttered and I hate it. 

Do you prefer big dogs or small dogs?   As someone in a wheelchair, I personally feel most comfortable around medium sized dogs.

Are you good at understanding heavy accents? Which accents would you say you're the best at understanding?   I admittedly have a hard time sometimes, it just really depends.

Have you ever played on a real life pinball machine, or just on the computer?   A real one, yeah. 

Do you have a lot of word documents or notes on your computer?   No.

What's your favourite Ben & Jerry's flavour?   I don’t really have a particular favorite. When I was younger I loved the Phish food one.

Have you ever been to a school reunion? How was it?   No, and I have no interest in going to one.

How many nights a week do you generally cook at home?   I personally don’t cook at all.

What colour are the street signs in your neighbourhood? Are they the same all over town or do they vary?   They’re green.

Do you have good grammar and punctuation skills?   I believe so.

Have you ever tried vegan chicken? Did you like it? No, and I gotta say... it doesn’t sound appealing to me.

[babygirlaffirmations]

11-17-23

For the most part everything is accurate as far as to what happened on each day. But I've had a lot of cummies and sometimes my memory isn't great. Everything happened it's just some minor things on what day.

Tuesday: part written in a previous. Deepest little space. Need refresh on what to write here. Puyallup class. Talk with Akira where he admits to being sexist. Just wanted to try to build a community connection. Was gross. 26 cummies. First long drive where we really utilized that car time for cummies. Going to his class full of his cummies. I can't remember which day. I think this one. There was one scene that he suggested a pause. And used the brief pause to text his wife while I was naked and run down on his bed. I was pissed.

Wednesday: Work scheduled from 9-4. Get sent home early. Take food to go. Master's first experience at the bodega before it closes. Get sent off work at about 2:30. Patrick was mad I spent like 5 mins with Master in a booth. When it was dead. And I was supposed to go home early anyways. Get food to go. See bodega. Go back to the hotel and eat food next to him on the pet bed. I think this is the day we were at the end of the meal and he ended up walking out for a call. Right after I had just said being at his feet was my favorite place. Irony and a slap in the face. His class 6-9. Edmonds class. 40 cummies.

Thursday: Contract start. Empty class. Kitty play. Missed doctor's appointment. Snapdoodle. Bought a sticker. Bought my kitty play collar and tag.

Day starts with us having a 11:45 appointment for my doctor. We went up running late after sleeping in and breakfast pickup at Starbucks taking too long. Rescheduled for 1:15. Used the interim to go to snapdoodle and get toys. Got my fidget snake doodle. Got my crumble fidget, a tiny cow, and a gold bath bomb. Went to the appointment. Got medication refills put in. Got another appointment set with Dian. Set an appointment next month with a nutritionist. So I can see someone again about my Arfid and also work on my cholesterol lowering. Trying to add more fruit in. Decided to skip zoo to try to prioritize contract. That ended to not done early like we wanted. Instead went to pet store for kitty play collar and tag. Decided my kitty play name can be my sub name, Phedra. It's a cute pink collar with stones on it that look like pearls. And silver ones. And a jack skellington tag. Went and got some basic groceries and ate tendies. Traffic was awful and we ended up getting to his office like 7-10 mins late. I guess someone showed up and left cuz the building was locked. But everything happens for a reason. We ended up using 2.5 hours of down time there for a big combined paper pros and cons list. And then rough draft our contract. And use car ride to think of new habits to add to obedience app. We started a like 1.5 hour car ride talk about the realistic expectations of dating him. As far as his family needing access to him. Which interrupts a lot. Multiple times daily. And that often every 4-5 visits his family comes with him to Seattle and stays with him. Which means likely 2 or so skipped visits a year. I think realistically as much as it sucks it would help to at least get one date night in on those times. So we don't have a 2 month drought. I know I would be absolutely shattered and devastated to skip a visit. Knowing the prior visit that a month will be skipped may also help. If we could even get a small date and/or time for sexy time at all that visit it would help tremendously. The idea of being put on the back burner for a visit sounds so awful. Won't be the next visit since Master let me request it off already. But that's gonna break me into a million pieces. That whole interim will suck. That whole month will suck. And during that specific week I'm gonna be absolutely likely not able to function at all. Everything else seems miniscule to the idea of missing a whole visit when that's all we have in person. Really hoping he can work with his wife and family and minimize missed visits. It would be nice if we never had to do that... But unrealistic. But ideal. 😵‍💫 It would also be nice if they could talk and we could have one night that week where she watches the kids. But may have to settle for a couple hours instead of most of a week. Which is already a lot. But would prefer that over going 2 months without my amazing Master and owner. We need that physical. And our physical connection is so strong in so many ways. Our mostly long/short distance relationship needs the visits to keep thriving. Neither of us would be happy with an only long distance relationship. Or losing a big chunk of what in person time we do have. Anyways done harping on that. After our long talk. Filling out that pros and cons list and rough drafting the contract and listening to a chapter of Kushiel's dart together. After all that we got back to the hotel. And decided we had time and space for the kitty play scene we had planned and that I smartly purchased 2 hours of on obedience. Crawling. Playing with yarn. Master taunting me because I couldn't speak. (which I asked for) lots of meowing. Pet bed time. Being walked on a leash. Full nudity. Couldn't get plug to work because it hurt. **This is the fucking third time I've had to type this part of the night because Tumblr is a piece of shit and gave me an error twice. So I've had to move it over to Google note.

What I wrote. Two times. Is how I moved it into sexual contract and how it ended. I rubbed and nuzzled into his cock. And started sucking his cock. And he moved me over to the pet bed. And said he was going to breed me. I had meows of me being in heat. (also I totally forgot my secret talent of being able to purr until I was in the moment.) So he fucked and bred. Cumming in me. At one point stepping on my head. So hot. Moved me to the bed. Started using princess kisses while making eye contact. Fingers. I got to like 68-70. He checked in. And I was a greedy kitty and wanted more. Full of his seed. After so many cummies. He used his hitachi and sometimes fingers to bring me up to 101 cummies. We passed our record. He wrote all over me. And after had me guess what number we hit. And used my hands to write out 101. I was shocked. Our newest daily record. And 101 was the strongest orgasm of the night. And may be the strongest I've ever had with him. So hot. We snuggled. I suggested a light bath. He sat behind me in the tub. Moved me to the bed after he dried me off. Got me under the covers. He had to hold me up a lot of it for walking at that time. Including to help me pee after I had laid down. He when brought me back. Got me comfy under the covers again. Cuffed me. Started playing a nature channel. And I nodded off to watching pretty yellow bugs. And then we both fell asleep.

Friday (today): started off stressful. We had an amazing scene last night. That I'll write more about on the Thursday portion. Started the day off awful. Master woke up at 7 and had an hour long text conversation. And it kept me awake. I was on like 6.5 orgasms. Post 101 orgasms just from Thursday. Ended up crying in bed. Even after all that I straddled him and ended up sucking his cock after. And sat on top of him to ride him. And stuck his cock in me. And we got to 13 cummies before he made me get off and have us start the day. We had breakfast. He made me waffles and gave me a banana I ate half of. He made a breakfast sandwich for himself. And then we headed off to the zoo. Was amazing. Apparently Master is a big zoo buff. Made a pressed coin together. Got zoozoo the angry red finger panda. Rode the carousel at the end. That was my fav. Spent like an hour or over half the time at the farm area. Got a cute photo of me petting one of the cows by stepping up on the fence. Got one cow kissie. Got cute photos of us together. New ones finally. Finished the zoo. Went to the first hill campus early. Parked. Got IHOP. Cute vanilla date where we could just be a couple. Staring into his gorgeous eyes. Anand ended up texting. And we ended up all 3 finally meeting. Master and I agree he is too disappearing. No spark. Not interested in more. Or really able to provide aftercare. After that we looked around at that bookstore. The puppy was cute he brought though. Then we got snackies for this class at QFC. And water at whole foods. Spent a few mins in the car. And went up to his class. Briefly talked about my emotional struggle of the moment. And now we're here. Me typing this in his class of the night. Honestly was pleasantly surprised that he was super present the whole visit. I really loved that.

*Going to try to make time for finishing the contract and adding in talked about obedience habits to the app. Not trying. Prioritizing. And either anal or finally swallowing his cum for the first time. I want the anal. We haven't had a full successful anal yet. We had a failed attempt. And then a partially satisfying attempt. But not him being able to fuck my ass to the extreme with force and cum in my butt.

[how-masterful]

Remastered

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Chapter 6: The Husband’s of River Song

Summary: You’d lost Missy. Or at least, you thought you’d lost her. After a run in with a mysterious stranger, you find yourself stuck on a doomed intergalactic cruise with the head of a king in your bag... and a crowd of his most loyal supporters around you. How are you going to escape from Scratch, his followers, the headless robot body of the king, and the smarmy Flemming? And why is this mysterious stranger oh so familiar to you?

Notes: Happy Valentines Day one and all! What better for this day of love than reading about the blorbos from our shows that we love so dearly! It’s absolutely the drill by now, but this is dedicated to the one and only @plethora-of-imagines​ , of whom I love so dearly and think you should all go show some love to aswell! I hope it lives up to the hype, and that you love what you read!

The Master watched in silence, emotions swirling and metamorphosing in his mind. There were a million and one thoughts and feelings that desired to fight their way out of his mouth and pool in a pile of word vomit on the now rather ratty dining room tile. You had your teeth grit, shoulders pushed back in typical, standoffish fashion, glaring down at the ugly blue creature with absolute disdain. Flemming’s spindly fingers prodded and lanced at the pages of your precious diary, each page littered with bountiful notes. Precious memories of your encounters with the Master, each marked down on to the pages with sincerity and adoration: Plastic flowers to Devil's end, the Gallifreyan council to Traken and Logopolis, The Death Zone to the Planet of the Cheetah People. The turn of the millennia in San Francisco, the Utopia project to 10 Downing Street and the Valiant, all the way down to the glimmering sun of the tearooms at 3W. He was gliding through them all, breezing through the pages as if they were a children's picture book: pointing, sneering, giggling mockingly at the pictures and doodles that sat between events. Some he found so amusing that he had to share with the crowd, the furious blush that appeared upon your face a sign the knife was being twisted deeper and deeper with every word.

“Skaro is a whole lot dustier than the books in the library made it seem.” Fleming spoke, a horrid chortle snorting its way down his upturned nose. “But who knew the sight of a Timelady whittling a stick down into a spear could be so attractive. Then again, it is Missy, and that woman could read the Sinthaxian manifesto and make it sound sexy.”

You hung your head in shame at that one, lips pressing into a thin line. The Master quirked an eyebrow, a light smirk creping up his lips. As embarrassing and tension filled the situation before you both were, this look into your secrets and thoughts was rather entertaining. Or at least it would be, he reasoned, if you didn't look so distraught.

“Go on, keep going. I honestly didn't know you could read.”

Flemming huffed, before furrowing his greedy brow as he scoured the next page.

“Ah, here’s another. It gets hard, seeing her like this. Caged like an animal. I thought it was hard enough the first time, seeing her locked on an island prison. Or when she was in so much pain from her dying body, even to touch her hardened skin hurt her. In both those instances, she’d planned an escape, a way out. But I guess this time she doesn’t want to. Maybe this time she feels she can't escape even if she tried. At least the Doctor shows us both a slight bit of mercy once in a while, letting me in to sit and read and just be with her. I don't like being alone. And I don't like her being alone either.”

The Master watched your shoulders tense, locking themselves into place and grinding against your other bones. He remembered his time in the Vault well, circling the glass panes of the containment field like a fish in a tank when the Doctor brought his pets to visit the violent creature he had locked away in his pretty little enclosure. He was a zookeeper, and he was his most incredible exhibit- the rehabilitated predator. Still a work in progress.

“She looked sad today,'' Flemming continued, chuckling to himself and swallowing his own laughter like it was the finest wine. “I don't think she knows how to process the last few days. Since she’s been allowed back into the Tardis I think she feels more trapped than she did in the vault. She’s different, the Doctor's plan to make her ‘good’ seems to be working the way he wants it to.”

“That was impressive, well done. Be careful, there's some really big words coming up. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Personally I don’t think she’s truly happy with this path to redemption the Doctor keeps pushing her on to, I don't think this form of good is something she’s able to become. I’d ask myself what good she could truly be then, but I think my answer would be much different to everybody else's. I’m not even sure I truly have an answer. All I know is that if she asks if I love her, I'll still give the same answer I always have. Some things never change. But at least now I get to hold her when she cries.”

Flemming’s laughter was beginning to infuriate the Master even more. He looked down as he shuffled his shoe uncomfortably against the floor- for once in his lifetimes he found it hard to look at you. Your shoulders were rising up and down with shallow rage, lips pressed into a thin line of lipstick across your face. Your fists had balled at your sides, but beyond your shaking hands you seemed oddly calm. His own hearts, not so much, seemingly in competition to see which one could race the fastest in his chest.

“Oh, this just gets more and more depressing, doesn't it?”

“Don't you dare. You’ve already made a death wish by reading the rest of it, and I really don't think you want to find out what happens if you read on.”

“Oh, but I think I will. Last entry, hmm?”

Flemming flipped another three pages. You didn't even blink as you threatened him.

“If you think I didn't learn a thing or two from her about mass execution of the people that piss me off-”

“She’s gone.” He started. Instantly you stopped in your tracks. The Master felt his heart’s stop in place for the first time that evening.

“And if you really don’t think i’ll use them-”

“These weeks are feeling longer and longer. If she escaped that Cyber ship, which I hope she did, she still hasn't made contact. Who knows what she’s doing, or why she did what she did in the first place. I miss her. I miss her more than anything. Maybe I just need to do something reckless. Maybe I need to be dangled over a volcano, or be moments away from being the sacrifice at a ceremonial meal-”

“Every line you read will just prolong the time i’ll take pulling you limb from limb alphabetically”

“Maybe then i’ll see her again, strutting in with that umbrella and those pointy shoes and stupidly tight corset. Perhaps then she’ll saunter in and taunt and tease and hurt and maim, and then she’ll look at me with those mischievous blue eyes and laugh at how much of a ‘silly little goose’ I am for getting myself into ‘such a pickle’. She’ll swoop in and save the day, save me, and then we’ll be back together and have afternoon tea and laugh about the whole thing over tiny little cakes and sandwiches and everything will be as it should be because I'll be with her. Until then, I'm just waiting. This may be my last entry for a while.”

You had no retort. Just a stoic, pained silence. The Master felt a wave of almost nausea soar through his veins, his double pulmonary system taking an absolute beating. So this was how you felt, after everything that happened. He hadn’t meant to just take off. He remembered well your last conversation- his, or her, hand slipping out of your grasp before he trudged into the woods to face his former self and make the decision he felt was right. It had cost him a regeneration, and even now he was still debating if he was happy with his choice. Still, some part of him secretly wished you’d find something better for yourself, something that wouldn’t put you in as much danger. Perhaps his time under the Doctor's reformative spell had taught him a lesson he didn't want to learn: What's good for others may not feel good for him. Happily, he was now starting to unlearn some lessons that just didn’t fit his style.

“WHAT IS THE RELEVANCE OF THIS CONVERSATION?”

The suit of king Hydroflax barked. Flemming whittered to himself, turning around to formulate a groveling answer. Scratch stood proud, teeth clenched and spit escaping through the gaps.

“Your majesty,” He sneered, beady eyes glancing proudly at the hunkering robot.

“The Master is a being known to us all, with a vast number of faces. They are the longstanding enemy of our greatest foe, the Doctor. To defeat them would be a true achievement, and would raise you to the ranking of most disgraced arch enemy of the Doctor.”

The Master almost gaped. Is that all he was to them? A stepping stone to the position of the Doctor's worst enemy? You seemed similarly offended, unclenching your jaw and finding a slither of confidence.

“You do know the last time somebody tried to claim that title, they got poked right in the eye? If you don't believe me ask Davros himself, I'm sure he’d still be applying his eye drops if he weren't dead.”

“Ignoring that, besides which-” Flemming tapped upon the shoulder of Hydroflax, his gloved hands rapping upon the metal. “All of us here on this ship would be rather glad to see their criminal career cut off at the neck, as it were. They’ve been nothing but a great inconvenience to us all. They’re the reason we had to generate a banned list. Too many complaints from other passengers about the prospect of their boarding”

“Banned from a cruise they hadn’t even been on? Impressive.” The Master blurted out before he could stop himself. You turned to shush him quietly, the look of unfamiliarity in your eyes panging deep within his gut. He nodded, oh so casually, before grabbing his hands and swallowing his pride.

“PROCEED FASTER, OR YOUR HEAD WILL ALSO BE TAKEN.”

“I would give MY head with gladness.”

You both rolled your eyes at Scratch. How typical, the one ship you board with a hostage turns out to be full of his sycophants. It was almost poetic, in a really annoying way.

“THIS WOMAN-” Flemming angrily gestured towards you. “Is the known consort of the Master!”

“Consort?” You chuckled. “Honestly I'm flattered.”

“It’s all right here! In this book! She is their known companion!” 

“Not so flattered anymore. We don’t really like that word.”

The Master smirked. He couldn’t have said it better himself.

“Your sarcasm hides nothing” He yelled, waving the diary in his hand. “Because this is indisputable proof!”

Your hand suddenly jutted out, grasping hard onto the diary and yanking it towards your chest. Flemming glowered as the book slipped from his grasp, his hand elegantly clenching into a fist at his front. You clutched the book towards your jewel covered dress, feeling some sense of comfort that your writing was back where it should be. You never liked when people would pry when you didn't want them to.

“So tell us… Where is the Master now?”

There was silence. Nobody dared speak. All eyes, or scanners, simply watched as a melancholic smile began to spread itself up your lips, barely reaching your eyes.

“You already have your answer.” You calmly replied, punctuating each word.

“I. Don’t. Know.”

“Do you honestly think we’d find the ramblings of a hopeless romantic to be credible?”

“Even if they weren't, they're still true.”

Eyes glanced between you as you engaged in your verbal tennis match. Each retort caught the eyes of every gaze in the room. But not the Master, he refused to take his eyes from you. Some part of him was manifesting a sudden realisation, that you’d put all the pieces into place and realise it was him, all this time, That you’d see every previous face behind his eyes and know he was still here, all this time. He’d even dressed in purple, hoping you’d see through his signature shade. At this rate, he was really regretting forgoing his typical goatee. Maybe you’d have figured this out quicker if you’d clocked the facial hair.

“But you know who you are. You’re the woman they love.”

You smiled bitterly. “No, I'm not.”

That caught the Masters attention, his eyes refocusing on every microexpression upon your features. He tilted his head, trying to read you. What was your game here? What was your plan?

“She’s lying!” Flemming spluttered, looking towards the giant form of king Hydroflax for support.

“No, I'm really not. The Master has never loved me. I’m not lying.”

You had to be, the Master thought. This was part of your cunning ruse, to buy you more time to figure out an escape. He did it all the time. It was nice to see you following in his footsteps. He was nothing if he did not lead by example.

A sudden red burst plunged through the chest of Hydroflax, bursting out into a sputtering triangle of light. The light made you wince, squinting your eyes as the beam passed over your entire face and body. After three beeps the beam withdrew back into the robotic forms chest, the machine churning and whirring as it processed the data.

“CONFIRMED. THE LIFE FORM IS NOT LYING.”

A sinking feeling consumed the Master's chest. It was a strange sensation, like the drop of a stomach on a rollercoaster, or the disappointment of waiting for somebody to call your name, and they say somebody else. It was odd, confusing and twisting itself in his stomach and tightening itself in his chest. He didn't like it one bit. 

“But, but that's impossible! It’s a trick, it has to be!”

“It's not.”

“But you said it yourself! In that stupid little diary! Everybody knows you’re in love with the Master!”

“Yes, I am!” You cried, eyes widening as Flemming dared to leer closer to your face.

“Not once have I ever denied it. But whoever said they loved me back?”

His head hung in a mixture of shame, disbelief, and skin itching disappointment. The same feeling in his gut began creeping itself up his spine. He found his mouth had suddenly gone very, very dry.

“They’re the Master, for crying out loud! They don't just swan around the universe falling in love with people, let alone a small, insignificant little human like me! And if you think they’re in any way that sympathetic, that fond, or even that sentimental-”

Flemming stepped back at the fire in your eyes, swallowing thickly as you narrowed your gaze at the blue man's sickening sneer.

“Then you don't have even the faintest idea of what you’re dealing with.”

Your words were a violent hiss. You absolutely meant business. Flemming was struggling to match you, lip quivering in all manner of directions as he tried to convince Hydroflax, the king's followers, and himself, that he was correct. He was running on borrowed time, and everyone knew that.

“I can assure you, she- she’s the perfect bait!”

He coughed awkwardly, fists clenching as he wittered to the king.

“Your majesty, she said it herself in her diary! The Master will come and save her from any danger she’s in! She’s the perfect bait!”

You laughed sourly, causing the snivelling man to step back once more.

“Considering the fact you’re standing right here, there's a village out there in the universe missing its prime idiot!”

You laughed again, almost drunk on disbelief. Months of pent up emotion, grief and love and anguish, all came spilling from your mouth.

“The Master could possibly even be here! Better still, on this ship!”

“Of course they aren't! They won't be here, as if they would! Go on, scan the whole Parsec!”

The Master coughed awkwardly, stepping forward. That wasn't a good idea in the slightest.

“Um, I don't think-”

“Do it! I dare you! And if you find them, let me know!”

“I really wouldn’t.”

You let out a huff of frustration, your chest heaving with a million unspoken words.

“I have no clue where they are, what they’re doing, or hell! If they’re even still alive! But I PROMISE you, no matter where they are, they’re off doing whatever they like and not giving one SINGLE damn about me! And after all these years, no matter how much it hurts to think, I've finally decided I'm ok with that!”

The Master sighed, stepping towards you to hover near your shoulder.

“No-”

“Falling in love with the Master is like loving the biggest supernova, it burns like the hottest sun you’ve ever seen and dazzles you with the brightest light you could ever imagine. It's dangerous, every possible touch could burn and explode like a stagnant landmine from a war that hasn't been fought for decades, but you watch because where the world sees the self destruction of something once so powerful and promising, you see the beauty and pain and the power of the universe and you know you could dedicate yourself to nothing less. And you never expect it to love you back. Not for one moment.

“Its tragic, and poetic, and it’s downright heart-breaking because you know one day, when it reaches its hottest and burns the brightest it’s ever been, it’ll implode and die and disappear from the night sky, taking everything with it and turning into the deepest of black holes because a loss that great could never go gently into its goodnight. And suddenly you’re blind, floating in space with the rest of the debris and you’re scalded from the heat but you knew, deep down, nothing else could keep you warm- and when you get pulled in by the gravity of its loss and death you have not one single regret. Because who else could fall in love with a dying star? Who else would choose, out of every twinkling star in the sky, to love the one that's suffering? 

“I love the Master, and I always will, but I can guarantee the reason they’re not here is because they’re where they should be! Burning holes into the night sky and painting the prettiest pictures with their destruction! And I tell you right here, right now, if I was ever in danger, the Master is not foolish enough, fond enough, and most definitely not in LOVE enough to find themselves standing in it with me!”

A breath finally found itself back in your lungs. A tear had dared to prick itself in the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t care less if it fell. Flemming, Scratch, and every other half faced loon in the dining room watched with trepidation. Awaiting the next words out of your mouth. It felt like a hole had formed itself in your chest, the words escaping from your heart and worming themselves out into the open like the greatest diary entry you could have ever written. 

In the silence of the room, between your breathing and the humming of the engine through the floor, you suddenly became aware of the presence behind you. Slowly you turned over your shoulder, eyes the last to move, as the man you’d spent all day with stood there with an expression you could hardly figure out. 

Fondness… Sentimentality… Familiarity. You gave a double take, then a triple, then a quadruple. Instinctively, you knew:

You’d seen those eyes before.

In the light of the dining room you could make out the small flecks of gold around his pupils, the age that sat deep within his iris’ that spoke of hundreds of years of existence, betrayed by the comparative youth of his features. It was as if recollection was bleeding into his features, the parts of his face that seemed such strangers now feeling like the oldest of acquaintances. But his smile promised more than that, the gentle curve at the corner of his lips teasing you with a million nights of something indescribable but beautiful. A short beard that travelled up his jawline and met his floppy mess of hair, the aura of his existence screaming at you to figure it out. Put it together. Answer the question you were desperately trying not to answer.

When recognition flooded into your eyes in a way your tears never could, the Master finally spoke.

“Your pet name came with good reason, y’know.” It was quiet, not quite a whisper. But that didn't stop it ringing in your ears like the whistle of a steam train engine.

“Hello, love.”

A shocked gasp pulled itself from your throat. Everything seemed to fall into place, the hole in your chest knitting itself together and yanking together your confidence for the first time in a long time. The Master smiled wider, watching it all click in your head.

You turned away, trying to hide your smile, as you pushed your lips together with all the strength you could. The Master saw right through you. He always did. Not just because of his telepathic capabilities.

“When we get home, you are so shaving that beard.”

“Not sure if i’ll have the time, being a supernova and all.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“It’s busy business painting pictures with destruction.”

“I swear to god, I was just keeping them busy-”

“It's a shame you decided to run off with a mad man instead of going into writing, you’d have made a killing on the slam poetry circuit.”

The first honest laugh came from your lips. You’d forgotten how good it felt. Good, truthful joy. The Masters grin was cheesy in comparison. This regenerations smile was definitely all teeth.

“WHAT IS THE NATURE OF THIS CONVERSATION?”

Hydroflax was losing the few morsels of patience his programming would allow.

“Private business, keep out!” You hissed, the Master giving a trademark wide-eyed smirk of trouble.

“Would you do me the honour of scheming with me once more, dearest?”

You gave a Cheshire Cat grin, folding your arms in thought.

“I’d be honoured. Any ideas?”

“Well-” He started glancing around the room for dramatic effect.

“Four exits: two concealed in the walls-”

“Boring, and too close to the machinery.”

“In that case, there’s one in the ceiling, but sadly I forgot to bring my heels.”

“You could always borrow mine, y’know!”

“Strappy stilettos with this cut of a suit? Get a grip, love.”

“You’re right, plus they clash with your shirt. There’s also one in the floor?”

“Never considered it, not too keen.”

“Too close to the engine ducts?”

“Just that bit too tight.”

You gave a gasp, matching his levels of dramatism with a swift smack of the back of your hand to his side.

“I hope you’re not being personal, considering these days only one of us is wearing the corset.”

“Waking up in that thing almost made me not make it to the next face, so i’ll happily pass this time.”

“What on earth are you talking about!” Flemming asked, wide eyed at the sudden comradery between the pair of you. The Master quirked an eyebrow as you leaned away from your conversation, furrowing your gaze and tilting your head.

“Hush, mummy and daddy are busy!”

The Master paused for a moment, before shrugging and nodding along. Another time, he thought to himself. He’d allow it. For now.

BONG. The sudden loud chime of a bell cut the conversation in half. The distant sound of rumbling surged through the atmosphere, the ship heaving and groaning as the ruckus grew closer and closer. You smiled sweetly, linking your arm within the Masters' own and clutching tight to your diary.

“There’s always my way out. Darling?”

The Master smiled, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Yes, dear?”

“In the event of, say, a sudden meteor strike on the lower decks at the starboard side, could you hazard a guess as to where the safest place to stand would be?”

The Master hummed in thought, the followers of Hydroflax looking between each other with uneasy glances.

“Meteor strikes, what do you mean?-”

“Right here, I should think.” The Master replied, happily ignoring the thin blue man's questions.

“Final question for all the points, and what do you think that isn't?”

“I’d say it's a coincidence. I’d also place a bet on it being your plan all along.”

“What can i say, i’ve not had your universal black card to pay my way around. I’ll take anything if it's cheaper than a taxi.”

The Master gasped, placing a hand on his chest.

“I’m shocked and horrified, love. Is this body truly only good to you for its wallet?”

You wiggled your eyebrows at the timelord, happy to land the punchline as you brushed a fallen cloud of dust from his shoulder.

“I’m not sure yet, I've only seen the face.”

“WHAT METEOR STRIKE?”

You smiled at the faceless robot, raising a finger into the air as the tannoy crackled and hissed over the ever growing rumbling.

“ALERT! METEOR STRIKE INCOMING!”

The Master gave a proud laugh as the minions of Hydroflax began to scatter away from the tables, the glass of the windows shaking and jittering as the floor beneath your feet began to tremble like the pre show of a volcanic eruption.

“That meteor strike, I should think.”

“What a shame.” The Master sighed.

“What?”

“I thought the mind reading was my thing in this relationship.”

“I’m good, but I'm not that good. One of my new favourite books, ‘History's best exploding restaurants- eat for free, skip the coffee’’. As you know, I'm working on a budget here.”

“Well, let's change that then. What do you say, dinner at the Ritz if we survive?”

“The one on the Catrigan Nova?”

“Whirlpools of gold, love. The very best. Why, not to your taste?”

“Well, there is this other place i’ve heard of at the singing towers-”

“How did you know about the meteor strike?!”

The widest grin spread across your face as the floor began to crack and crumble beneath your feet. The Master's arms wound tight around your middle, your own flinging around his shoulders as the figures still stood in the room shook and fell under the impact of the tremors.

“I’m dating a timelord, moron!”

You yelled, the Master's laughter sending wonderful shivers of nostalgia down your spine.

“YOU’RE JUST HISTORY TO ME!”

And with a final crack, the tile beneath your feet began to crumble and fall. You screamed in anticipation, the Master whooping with glee as the floor fell from under you, sending you both crashing down with the thick blocks of tile away from the hissing Scratch, the bumbling Flemming and the furious Hydroflax, and down to the lower levels of the ship- The whole time, not one of you letting go of the other.

[annewritesfic]

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

y’all i’m so attached to this au-

anyways! based on chapter 58 of cress by marissa meyer!

tw: discussion of blood, violence, chess has a pretty gorey nightmare in the first section (you can skip the first few paragraphs and pick up at “Chess opened her eyes with a gasp” to miss it), blades, pain medication, mention of attempted murder/murder, hallucinations

word count: 2275

In Chess's dreams, she was being chased by a wolf.

She was running through a field of crops with thick mud that sucked at her shoes, fog soaking her jacket and leggings, her lungs burning and her eyes stinging and her heart thundering. Dry leaves crunched underfoot, quickly being swallowed by the mud, and something in the back of her head dimly registered that she was being chased through the sugar beet fields on the Benoit farm back home. Even as she thought it, something began to glow in the distance - the lights of a farmhouse. Her house. The house she’d grown up in, the house that had always been safe and warm. If she could just make it to the farmhouse, then everything would be okay.

But no matter how hard and fast Chess ran, the farmhouse didn’t get closer. It almost seemed that for every step she took, the farmhouse was three steps farther away. She might’ve been running for hours or days or months or years, but the farmhouse got no closer. Eventually, the fog closed in and swallowed the farmhouse, the warm glow blinking out of existence.

She tripped, landing on her hands and knees with a shout of pain, mud sticking to her clothes and caking her braid. The damp wetness soaked into her bones, making them ache from the cold. She looked up, and just a few feet away was the wolf, crouched low to the ground, eyes flashing with hunger and anger. Her hands desperately searched for a weapon on the ground, something, anything, as the wolf got closer, and closer, and closer…

There. Something smooth and hard under her fingers. It was surprisingly easy to yank from the mud. She barely had time to look at it, to register the blade glistening in the moonlight under the layer of mud, the sanded wooden handle - an axe - before the wolf leaped in the air, jaws unhinged, sharp teeth reflecting in the axe blade. Chess lifted the axe reflectively, bracing herself, just moments before the wolf would’ve landed on her chest and ripped her to shreds.

The axe cut clean through the wolf, slicing it in two pieces from snout to tail. Its blood splashed all over Chess’s face and chest, and she heard twin thumps as the two halves fell on either side of her head. A choking sob fought its way up her throat, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, sure she was going to throw up.

Then the two halves of the wolf began to move, shifting beside her into two human-like shapes, each wearing half of the pelt. The fog began to clear as two hands reached towards her, and Chess stifled a cry - her grandmother and Cairo, welcoming her home.

Chess opened her eyes with a gasp.

Instead of her grandmother’s old military jacket and Cairo’s shining eyes, all she saw were steel bars. The air was filled with the scent of ferns and moss. The chatter of birds was so overwhelming she almost covered her ears.

A soft yip came from somewhere to the side, sounding concerned - the white wolf. Chess rolled over to look at him - on the other side of the pathway, the wolf sat, watching her. He tilted his head a little bit, and it struck her how much he almost seemed like the neighbors’ dogs back home.

Home…

It wasn’t the first time she thought it, but Chess was still shocked by the near-physical pain in her chest, the longing for the rolling fields and blue skies and familiar faces. She wanted to go home.

“He likes you,” said a voice.

Chess inhaled sharply and sat up, eyes searching wildly for the source of the voice. A girl about her age was sitting in her cage, hands folded in her lap, watching her curiously, close enough to touch. Chess tried to move away, but pain shot through her hand, and she fell back to the ground with a hiss of pain. Her hand was wrapped in bandages, but her pinky was the worst of it - during her trial, Levana had forced her hand to pick up a hatchet and use it on the pinky finger of her other hand, taking it off at the second knuckle. The pain had been bad enough that she’d wished to pass out, although she hadn’t. But while that was the worst of her pain now, it wasn’t all of it - there were scratches and cuts and bruises all over her entire body, some from the scuffle on the satellite and some from that awful Lunar boy she’d stayed with for several days and most of the aches from sleeping on hard floors for more nights than she could count.

The strange girl didn’t react to Chess’s fear. She sat quietly against the wall, her back straight, looking interested and curious. She clearly wasn’t another prisoner - she wore a pale pink dress that looked out of place against the dark regolith Chess’s cage was carved from. Her honey-brown hair tumbled around her shoulders in healthy, shiny curls, half of it tied up in a ponytail. Her eyes were a pale blue, sparkling with excitement, and Chess realized that her left eye had three scars below it, cutting in straight, parallel lines down her cheek - almost like perpetual tear tracks.

She was the most beautiful person Chess had ever seen.

And it was that beauty that made Chess realize she was wearing another glamour - another trick.

“Ryu and I were wondering if that was a very good dream or a very bad one?” the girl asked in a sweet voice. “You were mumbling to yourself quite a lot.”

Chess pushed away the lingering memory of the dream, the image of Cairo and her grandmother smiling at her. “Who the hell are you? And-and who’s Ryu?”

The girl smiled. “Ryu is the wolf, silly!” She turned to look at the wolf across the path. “Haven’t you been neighbors for four months now? Ryu, why haven’t you introduced yourself?”

The wolf blinked big yellow eyes at her.

The girl looked back at Chess and leaned forward, like she was sharing a big secret. “And I am your new best friend. But you mustn't tell anyone, because all the guards think that I am your master and you are my pet - they don’t know that my pets are my dearest friends of all! We will fool all of them, you and I.”

Chess struggled to comprehend what the girl was saying. None of it made sense, or answered Chess’s question.

The girl reached for a basket beside her that Chess hadn’t noticed before. It seemed like a picnic basket, lined with some soft, silvery material. “I thought that today, we could perhaps play doctor and patient! I’ll be the doctor, of course. You seem in need of some care.”

Chess sat up and pressed herself against the opposite wall. “You’re not a doctor.”

“I know. That’s why it’s pretend.” The girl smiled wider. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“No, actually, I’m really not.” Chess’s fingers pressed against the rough stone floor. “I’ve been mentally and physically tortured, I’m starving, I’m thirsty, I’m locked up in a cage in a goddamn zoo-”

“Menagerie.”

“-and I’m hurting in a thousand different places. And now some crazy girl comes in here and wants to play make-believe? Like we’re best friends or some shit?” Chess scoffed. “I’m good. Go away.”

The girl sighed and leaned her chin on her hand, resting her elbow on her knee. “You shouldn’t call me crazy. The guards don’t like that. Even though it’s true.”

Neither of them broke the silence for a moment.

“I know it’s true. You want to know how I know?” The girl leaned forward again. “The palace walls have been bleeding for years, but I am the only one who sees.”

More silence.

“No one believes me, no matter how many times I say it,” the girl continued. “Sometimes I can’t help but step in it, and then I track bloody footprints everywhere, and I worry that perhaps a wolf soldier will smell it and come for me. But if the blood was real, don’t you think the palace maids would clean it up?”

Chess tried and failed to think of an answer.

The girl pulled a small box wrapped in ribbon. “These are for you. Doctor’s orders are to take one pill twice a day.” She handed Chess the box with a wink. “It isn’t real medicine, of course. It’s just candy. Sour apple petites - they’re my favorite.”

“I’m not eating one of those.”

“Why not? It’s a gift.” The girl opened the box and held it out to Chess - four small, round red candies, shiny and smooth. Chess didn’t move, and after a moment, the girl set the open box down on the floor between them.

“What do you want from me?” Chess asked.

“I want to be friends.”

“A friendship based on lies?” Chess laughed sharply, humorlessly. “Of course you don’t mind that. You’re Lunar. Lying is all you know how to do.”

The girl looked at her lap. “I’ve only ever had two friends - two human friends. One became a pile of girl-shaped ashes when we were very little, and the other has gone missing. I don’t know if he’ll ever return.” She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I asked the stars to send me a sign that he was all right, and the next day was a trial like any other trial, except standing before me was an Earthen girl who’d seen him.”

“Can you make sense? Please?”

The girl leaned forward, closer than she had before, close enough that Chess could almost feel her breath across her face. “Is he all right? Sybil said he was still alive, that he probably was supposed to be piloting that ship, but she didn’t say whether he’d been injured. Do you think he’s safe?”

“Who?”

The girl smiled again, almost wistfully. “Clark Winslett. Sybil’s guard. The man with the blond hair and the kind eyes and the smile that holds the sun. Is he all right?”

Chess blinked, baffled. She didn’t remember much from the fight on the Rampion, and what few memories she did have were blurry. But while her focus had been mostly on the thaumaturge, she did faintly remember a blond guard.

But the smile that holds the sun? Bullshit.

“I remember two people that tried to kill us,” she muttered.

“And he was one of them?” the girl pressed, seemingly unconcerned with the killing part.

“Yeah, I guess.”

The girl smiled gleefully. “Did he look okay?”

“He looked like he was trying to kill me,” Chess said. “But I bet my friends killed him first. That’s our typical procedure for people who work for your queen.”

The girl’s smile vanished. “You’re lying.”

“Nope. And he deserved it.”

The girl began to shake, almost hyperventilating. The wolf - Ryu - pawed at the bars of his enclosure, whimpering. Chess tamped down her guilt and told herself she wouldn’t call for the guard’s help.

The girl got her breathing under control and sat up, her hand resting on her basket. “I see. Well, I-I should go.” She moved as if to stand, but then stopped. “I wasn’t lying about the bleeding walls. Soon, the palace will be so soaked with blood that Artemisia Lake will be so red, even Earthens will see it.”

“I don’t care,” Chess said. “And I’m not going to feel sorry for you. Your glamours and your mind control - you people have built your entire civilization around those lies, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

The girl crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at Chess, but said nothing for almost a minute. Chess lifted her chin and looked the girl in the eye, refusing to be afraid.

“I haven’t used my glamour since I was twelve years old,” the girl said at last. “That’s why I have these visions. Why I’m going mad.”

Chess didn’t show her surprise as the steel bars of the cage opened and the girl ducked out, taking her basket but leaving the candy. “Your Highness,” said the guard as he closed and relocked the cage door.

Chess listened to the footprints retreat down the path, staring at the candies, her heart thundering in her ears.

Your Highness.

Princess Annleigh.

The queen’s stepdaughter.

Annleigh was rumored to be more beautiful than Levana herself - which was why the queen had given her those scars. Even Earth knew about her, about her unspeakable beauty, about her scars… though Chess had never heard about the girl going mad.

The candies lay in front of her still, tempting her. Chess had no reason to trust her, but she’d finished her one small meal hours ago, and she wouldn’t be fed until the next day. Her stomach began to ache, and her head spun, and while she was proud of how long she made it, eventually she reached for the box and lifted one of the candies from the shreds of paper it was nestled in. It was smooth as glass between her teeth and cracked easily, the warm, melty center sweet and sour on her tongue. Nothing, nothing, had ever tasted so good.

But it was nothing compared to the sensation that expanded through her chest, down to her legs and into her fingers. A feeling of warmth, of comfort, that took her pain away with it.

Chess managed a smile up at the glass ceiling, at the stars beyond it. Perhaps the princess wasn’t so cruel after all.

[kraviolis]

lost in the in-between (or so it seems) - HLVRAI

Chapter: 1/5 Rating: Teen Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Gordon & The Science Team, Background Bubby/Coomer Words: 7k Additional Tags: Post-Canon, PTSD, Nightmares, Sleep Deprivation, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Not A Game AU, Paranoia, Accidental Date Chaperoning, Zoo Day, Autistic Tommy Coolatta, Touch-Starved Gordon, Emotional Breakdowns, Romantic Relationships Are Not The Focus Content Warnings: Panic Attack, Drinking, Not Safe Decisions Summary:

(Sequel to “you gotta wonder what it meant”) It’s been a few weeks since their escape from Black Mesa, and Gordon is struggling with nightmares and intense panic without really understanding why. Everything feels like an uphill battle these days, and Gordon’s forgotten that asking for help is something he’s allowed to do and that his friends are ready and willing to provide it. 

AO3 LINK

____

“Gordon?”

Gordon jumps in his seat, jerking his head to look at whoever had said his name. He meets Dr. Coomer’s eyes, wide and uneasy. “Sorry, I just— what were we talking about?”

Gordon looks around the metal table, adjusting his head slightly to get the sun out of his eyes. Sunkist makes a soft whine from under the table, and everyone has paused in the middle of their meals. Bubby and Tommy are staring at him just like Dr. Coomer, all with varying expressions on their faces.

Bubby is frowning in annoyance at him. “Well, we were talking about how I’ve never been the zoo—“

“But then you started staring off into space and— and we got worried!” Tommy interrupts, clear concern on his face.

“Are you alright, Gordon?” Dr. Coomer asks him, his brows furrowed in worry.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” He assures them, a smile easily plastering on his face.

“Are you sure?” Bubby raises an eyebrow sharply in his direction.

“I’m sure.”

“Do you swear?” Tommy presses, putting down his fork that still had a bite of waffle on it.

“I—“ He frowns and blinks. “What’s with you guys? You usually take everything I say at face value.”

“You were staring at your omelette for a very long time, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer tells him. “It was rather worrying!”

“Guys, I’m fine. Honestly.” He sighs. “I might not be getting much sleep but that’s all—“

“Are you having nightmares, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks, pressing his knuckles to his mouth. “Nightmares about Bl-- Black Mesa?”

Gordon stops and looks at Tommy, tilting his head curiously. “Uh, yeah, actually. How did you know?”

“We’ve all been having nightmares.” Coomer tells Gordon, pressing his fingers together rather nervously. Tommy nods a confirmation.

“Not me.” Bubby states plainly.

“Oh,” Gordon blinks. “Why not?”

“Dr. Bubby was never built with the ability to dream!” Coomer informs him cheerfully.

“So, what, do you just do the thing where you wake up and it feels like no time’s passed at all?”

“Correct!” Dr. Coomer exclaims. “It’s the most efficient way to sleep!”

“Yeah, I guess it is. I’m a little jealous right now, honestly.” Gordon rubs at his facial hair with a small smile. “Though, it’s kinda sad to not have any dreams at all. They can be pretty fun sometimes.”

“Just rub it in, why don’t you?” Bubby crosses his arms and scowls.

“Don’t make fun of him for not being as privileged as you, Gordon! It’s bad form!”

“Ye— yeah, Mr. Freeman, that was kinda mean!”

“I was just—“ Gordon takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Bubby. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“Oh, you didn’t, but I forgive you anyways.”

“Right.” Gordon deadpans, and stands up. “Look, I gotta get going, guys, I have to keep looking for job openings. Thanks for brunch.”

He doesn’t have to reach down to give Sunkist a pet, the dog had been laying nearly under the table at her master’s feet but had perked up when Gordon stood. He grabs his leather jacket from the back of his chair and picks up his sunglasses from next to his half eaten omelette and empty coffee mug. He pauses though, and looks up to see all of them continuing to watch him carefully.

“What?” He asks, frowning. He tries to make eye contact with them individually but they all look away before he can. “What?”

“Mr. Freeman…” Tommy trails off, looking more concerned by the second.

“Are you really, very sure that you’re alright?” Dr. Coomer looks up at him almost shyly.

“Yes. I told you guys— what is this? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“We’re just worried, Gordon.” Bubby says, sinking into his seat more. “You’ve been pretty out of it, recently.”

“Wh— dude, I just said—“

“We know you said you are but— but this has been going on for a while, now and—“ Tommy looks away again while blinking rapidly— and suddenly Gordon’s rising frustration fades instantly. Sunkist looks up at Tommy and shifts slightly so that her face is leaning on her master’s lap, nosing at his fidgety hands.

“Hey— Hey, I’m alright, Tommy!” Gordon puts his hands up and waves them around in an awkward attempt to console him. “I’m fine, okay?”

Dr. Coomer gives him a somewhat skeptical look. “Gordon...“ He trails off but doesn’t look away.

“Look, I just— Yes, I’ve been having nightmares but I’m a grown man. I pay bills, I have a doctorate from MIT in Theoretical Physics. I can handle a few nightmares.” Gordon sighs heavily, trying to let go of the tenseness in his shoulders. He attempts to put on a reassuring smile for them. “It’s nice to know that you worry about me so much, but I’ll be okay, guys. Really.”

The three of them share a glance at each other, communicating silently. When they look back to him, Bubby is the one who gives him a short, sharp nod. “Alright, then.”

“If you say so, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer smiles back at him.

Gordon’s own grin relaxes into something a little more genuine. He looks to Tommy, who is still fidgeting in his seat and avoiding eye contact. He glances up, once, before it falls back onto Sunkist. He gives him a gentle pet on Sunkist’s giant head and scrunches his eyes up for just a second before finally looking up at Gordon again, an unusual mixture of sternness and worry in his expression.

“Do you promise that you’re really okay, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks him, his voice low and quiet, obviously forcing himself to hold eye contact.

Gordon deflates a little, that firm pressure on his chest returning ever so slightly. “Tommy…” He murmurs, taken aback by his seriousness. He inhales. “I promise.”

Tommy shakes his head and brings his hand up, his little finger carefully extended. “You— you gotta pinky promise! You can’t ever break a pinky promise!”

Gordon raises an eyebrow and looks to the other scientists at the table. Bubby shrugs.

“If you break a ‘Pinky Promise’, you’ll be hunted by the entire U.S. Military and shot down like a rabid dog!” Dr. Coomer confirms cheerfully.

“Didn’t we kill them all?” Bubby points out. Coomer pauses for a moment to process this.

“If you break a ‘Pinky Promise’, you’ll be completely safe from the nonexistent U.S. Military— but you will be thoroughly shamed by all of us for lying!”

Gordon snorts and chuckles under his breath. He hesitates for just a second but he eventually hooks his right-hand pinky with Tommy’s, who perks up immediately.

“I pinky promise that I’m okay.” He says, and Tommy’s pleased grin lights up his face. They bob their hands, shaking on it, and Gordon pulls away to start putting on his jacket. “Now that we have that sorted, I honestly do have to go.”

“See you later, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer waves at him.

“Yeah! Bye, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy cheers.

“Is he going to finish this?” Bubby points at Gordon’s leftover omelette.

“I’ll see you guys later!” Gordon waves over his shoulder and walks away. He hops on the back of his motorcycle (parked just down the street from their brunch spot), replaces his normal glasses with his prescription sunglasses, and takes off.

He gives one last wave as he passes by their table and drives away feeling heavier than he has in days.

Gordon knows he isn’t exactly doing perfect. The fact that he even looked them all in the eyes and lied about it makes it all the more difficult in his attempt to contain it.

The nightmares… they weren’t normal nightmares. Not the kind he knew how to deal with, anyways. His throat would be hoarse when he woke up, flashing images still pounding against his skull like fists against a cage. He tried to forget about them the next morning but he was just so tired all the time, it was getting harder and harder to keep himself on track. The actual content of them varied, he never knew what to expect, but it was always horrifying enough to make him restless for the entire day.

For the past 2 weeks he’s been plagued by this— this shit and everything he’s done in an attempt to fix it has done nothing. They didn’t even start to happen until three days after—

After.

Gordon bites back a frustrated groan and clenches his right hand harder on the handle of his motorcycle. God, it’s like he can’t go just thirty minutes without thinking about fucking Benrey and Black Mesa and the week he spent in hell. He just wants to be able to live in the present, to be able to stop and smell the fucking flowers just for once in his life--

But he can’t. He can’t because that heaviness he’s felt, that distant feeling of dread, hasn’t gone away.

Gordon is losing his mind— again— trying to figure out why. Why he feels sick to his stomach all the time, why he can’t get a good night’s sleep anymore.

Why he can’t get rid of that invisible pressure on his ribcage like something is pushing down on him, trying to hold him in place.

Why he can’t stop thinking about that night— seeing the tenderness in Benrey’s face melt into the closest thing the man had to fury.

(Benrey was like a brick wall to him at first, but now he’s practically an open book.)

(He really does not want to think about why that is.)

Gordon wants to move on and forget about Black Mesa, about Benrey, but every single time he finds himself alone and sitting in silence his thoughts always drift back.

He thinks about the grin Benrey gave him when he agreed to play video games with him. He thinks about the pure joy he saw on his face as he threw his head back and laughed so hard at Gordon’s baby raging. He thinks about how it took only minutes for him to check on him, the concern in his voice through the door, his carefulness, the way he tensed before melting into his touch, the way he was swaying when Gordon leaned closer—

Gordon thinks about the expression on Benrey’s face as he was calling him out on the damn mind fuckery he was throwing at him and he feels like he wants to throw up.

He remembers how he just stood there, after Benrey had slammed the door in his face like a child. He’d just… stood there. His hands shaking and his heart pounding and the fading adrenaline making him feel woozy. He had stood there and stared at the door as if he would come back, as if his giant head would phase right through to taunt him, as if he would see a skeleton in the corner of his eye.

He’d stood there for a long time.

Benrey didn’t come back.

So he’s here, just trying to forget about it. Forget about him. Write it all off as a PTSD nightmare and ignore the physical evidence that he was ever even there.

To Gordon, Benrey was dead.

(He wasn’t and you know it.)

Benrey was fucking with his head again.

(The look in his eyes— would he be able to fake that kind of hurt?)

Benrey left, he left, and he’s not coming back.

(Please, God, come back—)

Gordon shakes the thought from his head and grits his teeth. He doesn’t have time for this. He needs to be thinking about anything else but this. Everything’s gonna go to absolute shit if he doesn’t get his head on straight.

He— he can’t get caught up in all this shit. It happened and it’s done with and he needs to move on. He can’t change what happened but he refuses to let the past control him like this. Gordon fucking refuses.

He’s putting his foot down here and now. The past is in the past. Taking back control of his life is what he needs to focus on. Keeping up with his commitments and responsibilities. Not letting himself spiral. Forcing himself to forget it all. There’s no point in hanging onto this! None! He got out and he’s safe and his friends are safe and he’s back to living his life to the fullest.

Alright. What does he have to do?

He needs to do more job searching, maybe buff up his resume. Dr. Coomer had mentioned that they needed a new physics professor at the state university in the city— he could get in contact with them. He was a TA for a short time while getting his PhD.

Oh-- Joshua is visiting for the weekend, and it’s Thursday. He needs to clean the house and pick up juice and snacks for him.

He takes a deep breath as he stops at a light and exhales long and slow. Okay. One step at time, he’s gonna get back on stable footing and leave everything else behind him. He’s moving on and forgetting about all of it.

He’s ready to take it all on.

———

When Gordon gets home the next evening he shrugs off his suit jacket, drops his wallet and keys in the bowl near the door, loosens his tie, and faceplants into his sofa with a groan.

That job interview went so shit.

He’d zoned out seven times in 15 minutes, asking multiple times for the interviewers to repeat the question, and had literally fallen asleep while waiting. He’d had a nightmare the night before, and something in it was so visceral and terrifying that it’s been stuck in his head all day. Curling in his gut like a parasite and making him jumpy.

(He had been back in Black Mesa, in it. Alone. Utterly alone.)

(The worst ones are always the ones where he didn’t have anyone watching his back. No one to distract him from the real horror that was happening. The things that he did, too.)

(No one with him as he stares into giant, dark eyes and struggles to fight against something so much bigger than he could ever understand.)

Despite all his preparation— he’d laminated his resume and ironed his suit with a pot off the stove because his steamer had gotten jammed, goddamnit— they’d told him they would call him in a tone that actually said that they would not be calling him.

Gordon groans again and reaches up to tug the hair tie out of his hair, throwing it on the coffee table, letting his hair fall to his shoulders. This was the third damn interview that he’d fucked up this month. He was going to run out of options and start applying for jobs that he was far too overqualified for. Maybe he’d have to throw his MIT doctorate in the trash because that’s all it’s fucking good for, apparently!

“Graduated summa cum laude and this is what I get,” Gordon laments to the empty house. “Nightmares about alien dimensions and a non-recyclable radiation suit that’s just a glorified pile of paper weights.”

He sighs. That was a good joke. If only someone was here to laugh at it with him.

(Benrey would have laughed.)

Gordon doesn’t have the energy to even be upset that he’s come back around to Benrey. He just feels so, so tired. Everything seems so… small, compared to what he’s gone through.

Maybe he should rob a bank. Gordon huffs out a single laugh at the thought, but still tucks it away for a rainy day.

The laugh melts into a sigh. It’s been weeks. Weeks and weeks of this. Rejected applications, failed job interviews, ignored calls and giving out resumes like candy on Halloween. He sees Joshua on the weekends, has Skype calls and brunches with the Science Team and even Darnold, once— but everything else has been nothing but pain and frustration and more pain. Something’s gonna make him snap one of these days.

Gordon presses his palms into his ryes. He needs— he needs a fucking break. A break from job hunting, from resume editing, from being a dad, from any and all reminders of Black Mesa. Like a cruise, or a vacation to somewhere tropical, or just a night out.

Gordon sits up a little.

That’s… not a bad idea, actually.

He pulls himself up fully and feels something almost like excitement bubbling in his chest.

Oh, this is a great idea.

It takes some time for Gordon to get ready. He hasn’t done this in a long time— not since he graduated and moved out west for his fancy new lab job. It’s downright exhilarating to be going through the motions again, the small little routine he’d been so fond of ever since he was an undergrad.

Gordon goes through his closet, finding his favorite— and best— outfit he’s ever owned. He has to squeeze into it a little but it’s just as incredible as he remembers— all dark navy with gold accents and a small splash orange. He gels his hair back, puts the ponytail back in, trims his beard, and trades the glasses for contacts.

When he’s done he leans back in the mirror and gets a good look at himself. Shirt buttoned down just enough to be classy and attractive, the gold studs in his ears, and flashy watch. His eyes unhidden from his glasses and with just enough mascara to make his lashes pop without it being obvious.

Gordon smiles at his reflection and strikes a few poses, giggling like a maniac because of how incredibly giddy he was to doll himself up like this again. He realizes how much he missed it now, and makes a silent promise to do it more often.

“Damn, I look nice as fuck.” He laughs, pulling out his phone. “I have to send a pic to the—“

He pauses, though. Wasn’t this supposed to be his night off? No more reminders of the bad shit, and — even if they didn’t mean to be— Tommy, Bubby, and Dr. Coomer were all living, breathing reminders of the bad shit.

Gordon hesitates for a moment, frowning. He settles to take just a couple pictures of his outfit and send one to them tomorrow.

Tonight, he’s letting himself forget.

———

When Gordon steps into the club’s doors, he finds his smile turning into a wide grin.

The bass from inside the club can be felt from outside, each thump echoes in his teeth and rings in his ears. The music is loud and the lights are flashing bright, neon colors are everywhere and constantly moving.

Rainbows adorn nearly every wall, every Mardi Gras necklace, every drag queen, every bead bracelet. The smell of sweat and alcohol is so strong and makes his head swim (painfully) pleasantly, he already feels drunk on just the feeling of being one with the crowd.

Gordon expertly maneuvers right to the bar, ready to calm that already-building (terror) anxiety in his gut with something sweet and fruity. He carefully avoids touching someone completely covered in glitter and orders one of the more expensive cocktails.

The drink is perfectly sweet and fruity and warms his stomach in such a comforting way. He smacks his lips and grins and gives the bartender a generous tip before leaning against the bar.

He stands there long enough to finish a second drink and get started on a third. Just watching the crowd, feeling the music in his chest and letting himself float on the (terrifying) euphoric feeling of being (trapped) encased in a crowd of (potential enemies) people.

Gordon sighs happily.

(Gordon sighs timidly.)

“Hey.”

Gordon (snaps) turns his head to look at the person addressing him.

They’re tall— taller than Gordon by a good couple inches— with a face Gordon can’t come up with a descriptor for other than very, VERY handsome. Their voice is deep, baritone, and they’re wearing a simple but rather catching outfit.

Gordon smiles at them, the warmth in his stomach making him feel bold (tense). “Hey.”

“I haven’t seen you around before— you new in town?”

Gordon laughs (nervously) a little. “I live here, I just don’t get out much. My schedule usually doesn’t give me much free time.”

The stranger grins and pretends to sigh sadly. “That’s a real shame— you’ve got such a nice face, you should be able to show it off more.”

Gordon’s face warms at the flirting and he quickly takes another gulp to (drown) encourage the (anxious) pleased feeling pooling in his abdomen.

The two of them begin to go back and forth, the stranger flirting more and more and Gordon slowly unraveling and relaxing.

It’s so refreshing to just have a normal conversation like this, no having to answer 5 year questions or herding the other person around in some attempt to stay on topic. He can say something funny and get a laugh instead of blank stares and a cut off greeting. He can flutter his eyelashes and watch them do the same and see them pick up every single signal he’s giving them without any misunderstandings.

(He feels guilty just thinking this— all he’s doing is blaming the Science Team for things they can’t help and things that don’t even really bother him.)

His heart rate kicks up when the stranger leans in a little more and opens their mouth— just enough for Gordon to pick up their intentions. Gordon tells himself that it’s just attraction. He’s attracted to them, they’re attracted to him, it’s all so flattering (nauseating) and overwhelming to feel a mutual attraction like this after years.

(Except he knows what attraction feels like and it’s not this—)

(Except there’s no butterflies, no warm pools, no slow motion effect, no startled inhale when he touches them gently, no softness or tenderness in their expression as they don’t look at him all wide eyed and red-faced—)

(Except they’re too tall, too slim, too nice, too gentle, too normal—)

His face flushes in delight (shame) as he wets his lips with his tongue. They smile a little as they watch him do it and they move a little faster

(He looks into their dark brown eyes— so different from icy blue— and sees only hunger.)

Gordon leans forward just as they do, closing his eyes. The warmth is his stomach is heavy and anchoring.

(The warmth is gone. There’s nothing but dread left.)

Their lips crash into his and it’s so— unceremonious, so anticlimactic. It’s cold and robotic and it makes his stomach clip into the floor. They’re pressing a hand to his jaw and chills are going down his spine as he just methodically goes through the motions.

(Would it have been just like this, he wonders? Or would it have been better— nicer?)

(It would have been better solely because of the fact that it would have been him Gordon kissed.)

His jaw moves and his head tilts just enough and he moves his hand from their hip to their waist and he feels wrong.

(They taste like rum and coke and Gordon wishes it was blue raspberry.)

It’s over just as quickly as it started and Gordon shudders as they pull away. He gasps sharply and pants, blinking rapidly as he opens his eyes. His mind is foggy— Why is his mind so foggy? He needs— it’s just the alcohol, he just needs to drink more—

He withdraws from touching them entirely— putting a finger up when they begin to question— and shakily reaches for his drink before tipping the rest of it back. It burns now and he chokes on it, swallowing forcefully and wheezing. He leans heavily on the bar and swallows again, his mouth watering as his stomach lurches.

The room is spinning— round and round again and Gordon can feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, desperate and crying for more oxygen and he’s trying— he’s trying so hard but his lungs aren’t fucking working— he can’t breathe— he can’t see—

Something grabs him by the arm and forcibly drags him away from the bar. He stumbles, grasping onto whatever it is in a desperate attempt to stay standing when his knees begin to give out.

His head is throbbing so painfully and his vision is swimming and there’s a voice in his ear saying something but it's so far away, now—

The cold October air hits him like an explosion. Every single cell in his body flinches when he is pulled outside, but it feels like his mind clears up in a single instant. He gasps again and can’t repress the relieved sob that forces its way out of his throat as he’s gently sat down on the pavement.

Gordon tries to breathe in the fresh air but his lungs stutter and he sobs again and he’s crying— fuck, he’s crying—

“Come on, guy— just breathe, in and out.” The stranger tells him with a gentle hand on his back. “It’s okay. It’s fine. Just breathe.

He does what they say but God, this is so humiliating. He hates this, he hates that he’s fucking doing this in public, he hates his fucked up brain and his stupid lungs for— for not even doing what they’re supposed to.

Gordon presses his palms into his eyes and shudders out a breath before swallowing and trying again. He follows the stranger’s lead, trying to match his breaths to their own exaggerated ones.

Eventually— when he has a more solid grip on his breathing— he leans his head against the exposed brick against his back and keeps his eyes closed. The cold wind bites at his damp cheeks and goes right through his clothes.

“Hey, you back with me?” They say jokingly and Gordon grimaces.

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out. “God, I’m really sorry. About everything. I didn’t— I’m— I’m sorry, I should just— go.” He stands up slowly, leaning heavy against the brick, willing his legs to stop shaking.

“H— hey, man—“ They call after him, but he ignores them as he walks away. He can’t— he can’t stand being in their presence anymore. The shame burns his throat and his face— if he fucks up anymore tonight he’s not sure he could take it.

So he walks away. Down the alley and out onto the packed street, each of his steps is harder than the last. Gordon walks for a while just to get his legs to stop feeling like jelly and to sober himself up. He can barely think past the burning shame, so he tries not to.

When he finally flags down a cab, his fingers are numb as he settles in the back seat.

The car ride is silent and suffocating, the sound of pop music makes Gordon’s head throb. The driver doesn’t say anything outside of asking for his address but Gordon can feel their judging eyes pressing into him. He ignores them and watches out the window the whole time. He looks at his reflection and sees the black streaks running down his face and not-so-subtly rubs them away. The driver continues to keep silent.

When he gets home, he stumbles out of the cab after shoving a couple bills into the driver’s hand. They speed off and Gordon’s left standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

He slowly walks inside, going through his ritual as if he was on autopilot. Keys, wallet, shoes, jacket. He makes his way into the bathroom and goes through his ritual there, too. Contacts, ponytail, shower.

Gordon turns the water on as hot as it’ll go. He doesn’t wait to step in once he’s got his clothes off, letting the icy water slowly warm as he just... goes through the motions. Body, hair, face.

Until he’s left standing under the steaming spray, burning into his skin. Not willing to get out just yet. And so he has no other choice but to think about it.

That— that was a stupid idea.

Gordon drops to the floor of his tub and brings his knees to his chest, ducking his head between them. The shower rains hot water onto him.

What the fuck was he thinking?

Gordon isn’t a young, dumb, childless college kid anymore. He— he can’t be doing shit like that! He can’t be going out just to kiss strangers before he even tells them his goddamn name— he can’t believe he let himself act so recklessly. Tonight could have gone so, so much worse if he hadn’t had that panic attack.

What even was the point of it all? It wasn’t just to have a break and he knows it— he knows his brain, Gordon knows that there was something else—

(Icy blue eyes and a startled expression and so soft, so soft—)

He wants to tear his fucking hair out.

Why? Why why why? Why him? Dear God, why does it have to be Gordon that has to deal with this— this shit. He’s a good person! He gives out his spare change, he compliments strangers, he puts things back on the correct shelf if he changes his mind— he doesn’t deserve to have his head continuously fucked with!

It’s such bullshit for Benrey to have left for good and for Gordon to still have to put up with his stupid mind tricks. He doesn’t want to think about him anymore— he doesn’t want to want him anymore! Every fucking time he closes his eyes Gordon sees his stupid fucking face.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s Gordon’s fault this keeps happening— his brain refuses to dream of anything else. It’s just nightmare after nightmare of Benrey, Benrey, Benrey. His own goddamn brain isn’t even on his side here.

He sighs and digs his fingers into his arms. Being angry doesn’t fix anything, though. He can be angry and upset all he wants but it won’t make anything better. He has to suck it up and do something about it. There’ll be time for anger later.

“C’mon, Gordon, think.” He urges himself on. What can he do? How does he fix himself? How does he stop the nightmares— how does he stop thinking about Benrey?

Gordon almost laughs when he realizes the easiest solution to this issue.

He just needs to stop sleeping.

No more nightmares, no more fear— in fact, it would give him more time to do the things he needs to! And, yeah, it wouldn’t— couldn’t last forever, but it’ll be okay for a little bit. Just enough time to find a more stable solution. He knows that from experience while studying for his doctorate at MIT.

Plus, it’s not like he necessarily needs to sleep every night like he did in Black Mesa— he has abundant access to the good ol’ combo of sweet, sweet caffeine and taurine.

He leaves the shower and gets dressed in casual daywear instead of something comfy— he can’t risk falling asleep, after all.

He makes a pot of coffee and gets himself a mug to enjoy at the lovely hour of eleven at night.

It has to have some sort of Pavlov effect on him, because the second he sits down at his computer with a cup of coffee and damp hair still resting on his shoulders his brain shifts into productivity mode. Gordon gets right into working on various cover letters, writing emails, sending voicemails and editing his resume as the time passes. He drains his cup and refills it a lot as he works, taking small 5 minute breaks to watch the coffee drip.

It’s not until he goes to make more coffee and finds an empty canister does he stop to look at the time. When he looks to his oven clock he frowns and double checks the clock on his desk. The same time. That— that can’t be right. If it really was that long— it’s only been 3 hours at most.

He quickly goes to his living room window and opens the curtains and is blinded by sunlight.

Gordon blinks. He— did he really just spend the entire night getting shit done? A laugh bubbles up and out of his chest.

“Holy shit,” Gordon grins. “This— this is fucking awesome.”

Practically bouncing on his feet, he grabs his keys and wallet to head to the closest convenience store. He pauses for a second and decides to grab the keys to his shitty station wagon— the one he bought off Craigslist when Joshua had been born.

Gordon greets everyone he sees with a wave and a smile when he goes into the small gas station store. He makes a b-line straight to the coffee and grabs a big container. Then, he catches sight of the energy drink section.

As he deliberates on which flavors to get, his phone rings. He jumps a little, startled by the sudden noise, but quickly fishes the phone from his pockets and answers without looking at the Caller ID

“Gordon Freeman.”

“Good morning, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy’s voice comes through clearly, and Gordon smiles at it.

“Hey, Tommy! What’s up, man?”

“Oh I’m just— just on my way over to Dr. Coomer’s and Dr. Bubby’s house!” He tells him. “I’m so excited for today! It’s gonna— It’s gonna be amazing!”

“Oh yeah?” Gordon hums as he grabs a couple blue-colored Mountain Dew Amped Game Fuel cans. “Why’s that?”

Tommy pauses on the other side of the line and Gordon frowns. “Tommy? You okay?”

The man laughs. “Oh! You— that’s a good one, Mr. Freeman! You— I almost— I thought you’d forgotten about taking us all to the zoo today!”

Gordon chokes on his own spit and proceeds to hack out a lung. “Nope!” He wheezes into his phone. “Nuh— hrg— no way! I’d— I’d never forget that!”

Gordon tucks the phone in between his shoulder and face begins to frantically grab snacks off the nearest shelf.

“Yeah! I would— it’s— I would hate for you to forget and miss out on all the fun we— that we’re gonna have!”

“Yeah,” Gordon squeaks. He grabs a cooler and starts throwing sodas into it. “We— we wouldn’t, uh, wouldn’t want that! Nope!”

“...Are you feeling alright, Mr. Freeman?” Tommy asks. “You sound strained!”

“I’m fine,” He hisses through his teeth as he drags the cooler to the front and throws his card on the counter before running back to grab a bag of ice. “I’m— I’m just— exercising! Gotta— gotta keep up my daily routine!”

“Wow, I didn’t know you have an exercise routine!”

“Yep!” He huffs out, dropping the bag on the counter and leaning against it as the clerk scans all the soda and snacks. “Gotta stay fit! You know how it is— anyways, what um— sorry, what time did I say I was picking you guys up?”

“In fifteen minutes!” Tommy tells him, and Gordon’s smile becomes manic as the clerk continues to slowly scan each soda. “Oh— Hi, Dr. Coomer! Hi, Dr. Bubby!”

Gordon hears Bubby and Coomer greet Tommy as he supposedly arrives at their home. “Listen, I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay Tommy?” He says as he struggles with inputting his pin number.

“Ok, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy says. “See you soon!”

Gordon hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket. He thanks the clerk and lugs everything out to his car, thanking the universe for granting him this one pass of him taking the car to the store instead of his motorcycle. He gets the cooler situated in the back— now full of ice, soda, and snacks for the team— and hightails it towards Bubby and Coomer’s home.

It takes only ten minutes to arrive when it normally would take twenty.

Gordon does not know how this happened. He will not talk about how this happened.

He pulls up to the pair’s home and sighs heavily, sinking low into his seat as he watches Tommy, Bubby, and Coomer all meander up to the car.

“Hello, Gordon!” Dr. Coomer greets him, taking the passenger seat.

“Hey, Dr. Coomer,” Gordon greets him, exhaustion creeping into his voice.

“Hi, Mr. Freeman!” Tommy smiles as he climbs into the back.

“You got here early, Gordon.” Bubby says.

“Yep,” He replies, popping the ‘p’. “I brought some snacks, by the way, so that we don’t have to buy mediocre and overpriced bullshit—“

“Is there soda?” Dr. Coomer lights up, looking to Gordon as Tommy and Bubby begin to root around in the back for the cooler.

“Yeah, I got—“ He hears the dual crack of soda cans and sees Dr. Coomer’s head snap to look at Bubby and Tommy so fast that Gordon wonders if he broke his fucking neck for a second.

“My dear Bubby!” Coomer gasps, scandalized. “Are you drinking a Soda without offering me one?”

“N— No! I was just— opening one for you!” Bubby insists and shoves the open Pepsi at Coomer. “Here!”

Coomer doesn’t hesitate before guzzling the entire thing and crushing the can in his hand like a grape. “Oh, Professor, you’re always so thoughtful!”

Gordon doesn’t miss the quiet, dejected grumble of “It’s doctor,” from the backseat, followed by a third can being opened in penitence.

Gordon can already feel that they might not all make it out alive from this trip. He sighs and pulls onto the street.

Half way into the car ride— while Bubby is trying to convince Gordon why he should have the aux cord— Tommy makes a curious noise and holds up an energy drink.

“Mr. Freeman, is this yours?” Tommy asks, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Oh— yeah, can you hand it to me?” He reaches back with his right hand and the can is deposited into it. “Thanks.” He purposely ignores the worried looks from Tommy and Coomer and sets it in the console cup holder.

At the next light, Gordon cracks it open and chugs half of it. He’s never preferred energy drinks but sometimes you need the most caffeine you can get— and this one has double the caffeine content over a cup of coffee.

“Gordon?” Coomer asks quietly from the passenger seat as he wipes his mouth with the back of his left hand.

“What’s up?” He replies, trying to keep his eyes both on the road and on Coomer.

“How did you sleep last night?”

Gordon hunches his shoulders slightly. “Fine. I slept fine.”

“Really?” Tommy presses, skepticism obvious in his tone.

“Yes, really.” Gordon rolls his eyes. “Look, guys, I know I mentioned the nightmares a few weeks ago but I’m fine. Seriously. You don’t need to check on me over every single thing.”

“I— We know, Gordon—“

“I know you’re just worried, I get it, but please no more pushing this? If I wasn’t okay, I’d— I...” He trails off. He can’t find it in himself to keep the lie going. He sighs again. “Just— stop nagging me. I know I’m the youngest but don’t— don’t treat me like I can’t take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Fr— Gordon.” Tommy says first, wringing his hands. “I— I shouldn’t have tried to push it.”

“You’re as right as ever, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer says. “I’m very sorry.”

“I didn’t say shit, I don’t have to apologize.” Bubby leans back with a bag of sour patch kids and a soda. “You’re a grown man, Gordon, you can fill your body with as much garbage as you want.” He punctuates this with a sip from a regular Mountain Dew.

Gordon smiles in relief. “Thanks guys.” He tells them genuinely, his shoulders relaxing.

The rest of the ride is pleasant. Bubby continues to vie for the aux cord but Tommy’s reign continues with begrudging acceptance when he plays some kind of peppy, anime-sounding song that makes all three of them cheer.

Gordon grins at their antics. His chest buzzes with something light and happy the whole time and he doesn’t notice he’s bobbing to the beat until Bubby shoots him a smirk when he glances into the mirror, but he doesn’t seem to want to stop.

They arrive at the zoo and get a good parking spot. It’s way early and a weekday to boot, so it’s not packed at all.

Tommy makes sure that everyone has sunscreen applied and they all pass the bottle around until they’re all up to code in his eyes. Coomer recites the Wikipedia article on sunscreen as they do and then offers to carry the cooler until Gordon shows off it’s wheels and extending handle.

Gordon pulls out a brochure from the center console of the car and begins to go through his plan for the day but is cut off by Bubby saying “Can we just go? I want to see the fucked up birds they have!”

“Now, Dr. Bubby,” Coomer approaches the man and begins to fiddle with his clothes. He dusts off Bubby’s shoulders and adjusts his leather jacket’s collar. “I know you’re excited for your very first zoo trip, but we have to make sure we have enough time to see every exhibit! I’m sure Gordon has thought it all through very thoroughly.”

Bubby blinks and looks down and away from Dr. Coomer, his shoulders going up to almost his ears. “I know,” He says, almost submissively, his face pink, before his expression morphs into a sneer— directed towards Gordon. “I just think my own plan would be better, but if Gordon wants to play the leader again that’s fine. Just don’t fuck it all up.”

Gordon lets the barbed comments slide as he tries to process what the fuck he just witnessed. Was— did Bubby— Gordon’s not even sure he saw that interaction correctly or if the Mountain Dew Amped Game Fuel is fucking up his head even further.

He takes one glance at the half-empty can, chugs the rest of it, and decides to completely ignore all of that for now.

“Alright, team,” Gordon calls out, replacing his normal glasses for his sunglasses. “Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

[blooddrop-palace]

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first. 

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on. 

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow. 

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2. 

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil. 

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four  is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project. 

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

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it. 

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics.  Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time. 

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story. 

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild. 

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters. 

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff. 

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out. 

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years. 

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai. 

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger. 

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap. 

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home. 

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU. 

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin. 

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered. 

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell. 

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff. 

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 2 : Section 7 : Runaways

The outburst of Blue’s power, too strong to be hidden beneath Anti’s careful, means they are no longer secure in their hiding place at the height of the mountain, and Anti no longer cares about making sure his curse is safe before using it. Dapper is breaking down, Red and Blue are on the chopping block for the choice they made, and Anti is struggling desperately to maintain control as he takes his puppets and flees to the north.

Trigger warnings for some of the most severe abuse yet, including manipulation, abuse between brothers, and abuse of a character having a psychotic episode.  I’m telling you right now, this chapter bites. Please be careful.

Find Chapter One here.

Find Chapter Two here.

 Section Seven of Chapter Two: Runaways

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok, Genesis, anyone? Are you guys okay?

When the signal comes back, your camera seems to be vibrating.

Thud thud thudding rapidly as colors and lights fly by. Mounted on the ledge of a car window, pointing back in towards the other side.

Trick is the only one who looks up at the faint beeping, his eyes wide. He glances towards the front of the car and gives you no answer, stroking his twin’s hair. Dok is sitting on the floor at his feet with the weighted blanket over his shoulders, his forehead pressed against Trick’s thigh so you can’t see his face. Dapper sits beside Trick, his knees drawn up to his chest, his big, teary eyes fixed on the floor. He’s holding his fluffy white bear to his chest, and, from his crooked nose all the way back to his right ear, there is one huge bruise, bright purple and deep black.

They’re traveling somewhere.

Above the driver’s seat, you can see the plastic antlers of Blue’s Christmas gift mask.

Anonymous asked: Just let her go, Chase. She’s got a family just like you do. It’ll alright, love.

Trick turns his face away from you, holding Doktor closer against his thigh. Dapper stares over at you, his mouth in a deep frown and tears slinking down his cheeks. Eventually he shifts, snuffling, and lets you see the golden hilt of that beautiful knife, returned to him now and cleaned of Genesis’s blood.

The car pulls over and stops.

“Okay,” says a flat voice from the front. “Wait here. I’ll get gas.”

Anti’s car door opens and shuts. Nobody moves.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Where's Red and Blue, guys?

“Front,” mumbles Trick.

Red turns back to you just for a second. His body shakes and no one has bandaged his cuts. He wears that black muzzle on his face - you can tell what it is beneath a thick scarf. He is handcuffed to the car door. You can recognize, by now, the way that guilt looks on him, and you can recognize, by instinct, the look of a man haunted.

Anonymous asked: Still wearing our boy, Anti?

Blue’s palms are a vivid red, not the flaking skin he had before, but burned. They must be painful. Anti sets them to the handle of the filthy gas nozzle and starts loading up the clean little car - stolen more likely than rented, but it hardly matters now.

“I can’t trust him right now,” he says, his voice dark. He seems to take none of his usual joy in it and his eyes are fixed blankly on the nozzle. “But I… I will… I’ll… fix it. Too much power for him.”

He sighs deep and runs his hand through Blue’s hair, singed black on one side. “Mmh… need to put the others back, too. Should I focus on Red or Dap, do you think? None of the medicine seems to be working on my little one, which makes him harder to reign in… but Red was so far off the fucking rails last night… maybe Red, maybe Red…”

Anonymous asked: personally bro I think you should focus on why it is that your whole schtick keeps tanking cuz I think there's some fundamental imbalances here that need to be addressed that you're refusing to acknowledge. or something.

Anti chews on his lip, staring at the gas nozzle.

“Should I… I just… I didn’t expect five to be so much harder than four!”

He pulls at his hair, distressed. “I thought I had taught Red better than that. Maybe I should just go back to four and keep a closer eye on all of them. Maybe I should just kill Trick and be done with it, reset them all and just… I think I could manage that, right? I used to manage Red and Trick and Dok and Dapper so well, they were just sad, and I wanted Blue to change that… but Dok would be a good twin to Dap, wouldn’t he? And Red and Blue would still be able to guard like Trick does. Maybe I should just give up on having the full set like I always wanted. Ship Trick’s body back to Jack and make him cry. I hate… I know he did this just to make it harder for me!”

Anti breaths in and then shakes his head at himself, pulling the nozzle out of the car. “No, no, no. Once I cull Blue’s power off I won’t have to be so worried about hiding them all the time and I can put all five of them back in their neat little lines. I can still do this. I just need to keep them away from the magical orders. If the Lapwings couldn’t protect Marvin from me, the Ravens won’t be able to help them either. I just need to do what I came to this country to do and then we can go again, and no one will take my pets from me.”

Anonymous asked: You read one book and suddenly you're able to take on who-knows-how-many magicians? You barely handled blue back in Norway and he hardly know what he was doing. What are you going to do against people that are actually trained?

Anti growls at you. “You are underestimating, first of all, what a goddamn little powerhouse this stupid brat is. Hardly knew what he was doing? He was one of the most accomplished magicians in the UK, you dumb fucks. Anyway, he would have been easy to kill - it’s just that I didn’t want my new pet dead.”

He snarls down at the gas nozzle and shoves it back into the tower. The electric little screen reading “S/.116.030″ glitches and the number disappears.

“These little thieves who are trying to take what belongs to me have no such guarantee. I will slaughter anyone who comes near them.”

nikkilbook asked: Yes, because literally the only possibly reason Jack could have created them all was exclusively to annoy you. No other reason. Not like they’re people, have been people, always will be people, and people don’t exist for only reason and especially not just out of spite. No, it’s definitely just to annoy you.

“He made that stupid little Jameson just to save him! That stupid doctor because he could feel me growing and knew he would need a healer! Jackie to protect him, Marvin to hide him, Chase to laugh while he cried! You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe him to be a selfless man - you’ll recall, after all, that I was only ever created to fucking entertain you!”

Anonymous asked: you're ignoring that there's actually six of you. you can't even handle yourself, bro. it IS an option to just like. let the boys do whatever they want. love is a stronger bond than fear, you saw that firsthand last night my dude.

“But then they’d go!” Anti clutches his burned hands into fists so hard he makes welts burst, and blood and clear puss come running down his wrists. “And they can’t! They can’t go! They’re mine, I’m owed them! They belong to me now! Better than being with Jack! Better than being with Jack!”

Anonymous asked: ok I would like your logic on why they were sad and if it doesn't include somewhere the phrase "being held against their will by a volatile puppetmaster and stripped of essential human freedoms" i'd kindly ask you to reword yourself

“Maybe they deserve to be sad sometimes,” Anti snarls, gritting his teeth. “Maybe they deserve everything I’ve ever done to them.”

Anonymous asked: bruhhhh if they loved you enough they'd never go. that's the reason we can't get Blue to up and skedaddle. he loves his brothers way more than he fears you.

“But they don’t love me,” says Anti. “And no one does without my control. So there’s no point to you trying to convince me. I know what I am. I only pretend not to be a monster around them, you know. I don’t try to tell myself any different. I never have. Not since I was little.”

bupine asked: what is it that you came to this country to do, anti? we never did find that out. is it something you're gonna be cryptic about or can you tell us?

“You never asked,” he says. And then: “There are parts of the world that are more magical than others. And I have a spell to cast.”

immabethehero asked: Hey Anti, here's a wild idea. let them run around for like a week with no chains and then they'll be happy.

“Haha! Oh, fuck, are you joking? They’d fall apart and never come back to me. Bet you a thousand sols at least one of them would die. Most of them would come running back to me. Hey, have you guys ever read Life of Pi?”

He glances at you like he expects an answer, but doesn’t actually check for one.

“He talks about, like… people like to go ‘oh, the poor animals in the zoo, all locked away!’ But the animals in the zoo aren’t actually unhappy. They’re glad they’re in the zoo. They’ve got space and food and routine. And if you shoved a family of people out of their house and you went ‘go, be free!’ they wouldn’t actually be free and they wouldn’t want to leave. They’d want to go back into the house. They’d want to go back into the house aggressively. They’d force you to let them go back into the house.”

He shrugs. “My boys belong in the house. Being let out wouldn’t be real freedom. Especially seeing as most of them would be caught and put in jail for life! Red and Dapper certainly, probably Dok too, maybe Trick if they could convict him. No, no, better off with me. The outside world is a scary place without master to look after you. I guarantee - I fucking promise - soon enough, they’d miss me.”

Anonymous asked: I’m sorry, but you don’t get the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it’s time for you to move on to better things, y’know? Find some other...hobby or whatever. They’ll never stop breaking out of what ever the hell you’ve put them under, and soon they’ll be too strong for you to ever get them back under. They are so much more than puppets and once you realize that it’ll be far too late for you.

“I didn’t ask you for the benefit of the doubt and I don’t care what you think. And if you’re so convinced that they’ll never stop? They’ll never give up, they’ll never stop trying to be free?”

He turns to you with black eyes.

“I swear I will match every second of their determination, and bring them back under my control. Every. Single. Time. If I have to struggle for the rest of my fucking life. So be it. So be it.”

bupine asked: anti, my dude, look at urself. ur stressed the fuck out and the boys are scared and hurt and remembering again. you can't take care of all of this urself, u just fucking can't. u can't keep wiping their memories and torturing and gaslighting and burning urself out. i know ur not gonna listen to this at all and ur probably just gonna give some sarcastic response but fucking hell u know u can't keep doing this. something has to change here, and that something is u, i'm gonna be honest.

“I’ll do this as many times as I have to!” he screams.

It’s a good thing this gas station lot is mostly empty. He’s starting to look stressed.

“I’ll do whatever I have to! As long as I have to! Forever! I’m not letting anyone go! They’re mine! They’re mine! They’re mine!”

Anonymous asked: That doesn’t sound like a way to live

“Better than the alternative!” screams Anti. “Better than being - I’m not going back to - I’m not letting them go!”

immabethehero asked: You're stressed, Anti. It really shows

“Thank you for your stunning analysis, PsyD,” he snarls.

Anonymous asked: whatever you say, pal. just trying to make your life easier.

Anti growls and turns away from you. “None of you understand anything.”

dancing-anon asked: So, Anti, what's the deal with you and Sean? Why do you hate him?

“Don’t say that fucking name. We’re not talking about this. All of you be quiet.”

musical-in-theory asked: Anti you are a textbook control freak who’s just now learning that they have so very little control. Poor little thing, your strings are becoming quite frayed...

“Bit the strings off myself,” he mumbles. “No connections left to him now.”

Anonymous asked: Dapper this is not your fault, please do not blame yourself, love.

Dapper looks up at you, weakly clutching his bear to his chest, and tries to nod. Trick reaches over to rub his shoulder, but Dapper draws away, hiding his face in his bear.

dancing-anon asked: Okay now I just wanna know more about Anti and Sean-

Anti laughs hysterically. “I know you do! Everyone did! Because that’s all I ever was! A storyline! Yes, I know, you want to know all about me, don’t you? Want to see me a hundred times over! I’m a fun toy to play with, aren’t I? A fun video to rewatch? Oh, do you still shiver when he draws the little toy knife to his throat? Did JJJJ scare you? And when you finally saw me with the others, all of us lined up just the way Jack wanted, in his little costumes and accents and special effects, didn’t it just make your month! Leave me the fuck alone. I’m not a goddamn prop.”

Anonymous asked: “Gotta love how you don't even try to be better. 'Oh, poor me, made to be a monster' well fucking change that, then. If you hate your Jack so much because of what he made you, then stop doing exactly what he made you to do. And you want to be loved by these five who you admit to hating so much? I don't even know where to begin with that. You’re so obsessed with every ounce of control, that you can't even settle for being as in control as you clearly already are. That's sad." - I!A

“There’s no changing anything now. There never was any changing anything. I just realized late.”

Anonymous asked: Why are you so afraid of being on your own?

“I’m not afraid,” hisses Anti.

Glitches warp the gas station tower screen.

“I’m not afraid.”

immabethehero asked: Are you still in Mexico, drama queen?

“I’ve never been in fucking Mexico! Why did you think Mexico? Because they speak Spanish here?”

Anonymous asked: dapper, are you all right? any symptoms hurting you too much? i know what it's like... some of the stuff you're dealing with... and i'm sorry medication hasn't been helping you. you're doing a great job hanging in there

“I can’t tell what’s going on,” moans Dapper, barely taking his hands off his bear to sign to you. “N-nobody looks right, and everyone’s acting weird, and my face hurts, and I’m scared, I’m scared, I don’t know what’s happening, I want to go home.”

“He’s having bad delusions,” mumbles Trick, still just stroking Dok’s hair, for hours, for hours. His twin stopped responding some time ago.

immabethehero asked: YOU'RE IN SPAIN

“NO, I’M NOT. HOW MANY SPANISH-SPEAKING COUNTRIES DO YOU THINK THERE ARE?”

Anonymous asked: Columbia, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru?

“Don’t care to tell you,” Anti simpers, looking a little calmer now. He knows and you don’t.

Anonymous asked: Brazil. Got it.

“Oh, haha, are you pleased with yourself? No. I let you see plenty of hints so you figure it out.”

immabethehero asked: Puerto Rico?

“Leave me alone.”

Anonymous asked: I figured it was Brazil, smartass. Ever heard of confirmation?

“It’s not Brazil. Ever heard of being wrong?”

Anonymous asked: It’s Ecuador.

“I told you, I’m done talking.”

Anonymous asked: My mistake, Ecuador, right? They speak Portuguese in Brazil, pardon.

“They do speak Portuguese in Brazil, yes. A lot of you are Americans, huh? We’re done talking about this. I’ll ignore the rest of you, do you understand?”

Anonymous asked: Well damn, you certainly wanted to be far away from Jack then, huh?

Anti chuckles. “We’ve been all over. Dap and I were in Japan for a while. Just wanted to see what it was like. I love it there, actually. If I could stay somewhere, it would probably be Japan.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe the medicine is working too well, Dap...

“No,” says Trick, looking a little grumpy at this. “You saw him when the medicine was working. You were with us in Norway. He got a little confused, sometimes, but for the most part he was able to function just fine. It’s when he doesn’t have his medicine right that things get to be hard for him.”

Dap stares over at Trick, a little hope coming back to him. “It’s just medicine problems, C-love? It’s just confusion? Will I remember once we fix it?”

“Yeah, sweetie, yeah.” Trick reaches over to stroke his hair, and this time, Dap allows it. “I’m sure you’re just confused, honey. We’re trying really hard to make it work, okay?”

Anonymous asked: Hey Red, just want you to know you did the right thing. Don't lose faith.

Red doesn’t turn back to you.

But you see him shaking his head, just a little, his shoulders heaving.

immabethehero asked: Trick, is Doc okay?

“Um…”

Trick glances down at Dok, running his fingers through his hair.

“I… he… there’s just a lot going on right now. Once we’re safe, everything will be a-okay, a-okay. Anti’s taking us somewhere safe! To make up for fucking Red and Blue…”

nikkilbook asked: Red, I know this is probably cold comfort, but I think you made the right decision in helping Blue up the mountain. You did a good job, you were a good brother. I’m really proud of you. And I think Blue is, too.

Red slams his head back against the car headrest, panting. Trick lets out a grim laugh, looking shaken.

“Blue’s not anything, right now.”

nikkilbook asked: If you’re not a prop, stop acting like it. A prop is defined exclusively by its purpose within a scene, how it’s used and who uses it. A good actor can give the illusion that it’s always existed, but ultimately it is defined from curtain to curtain. A person is defined by a hundred thousand billion things, their relationships and interactions and wants and desires and flaws and struggles and emotions. All you’ve ever shown us is that you are doing these things to thumb your nose at him, prop.

“This is me being more than a prop. When was the last time you saw a scenic armchair kidnap five characters and drag them away from the storywriter?”

bupine asked: we know you're not a prop, anti. we just want you to leave the boys alone, which we know you won't do cause you're quite frankly just a stubborn, attention seeking asshole. like yeah we know you've got abandonment issues but fuck stop making that everyone else's problem fdhfghjhdg

“Yep, sounds about right,” he taunts you.

bupine asked: so what were the boys like before you had them, anti? tell us about that

Anti pauses, staring out at the sky.

“I remember… the fear in Jameson’s eyes, but also the determination, stabbing at my hands when I tried to take him away. And he was scared to swear but when he saw things he would hiss and spit at them until the paranoia made him break down, cause there was also something fearless to him.”

Anti opens his mouth and then pauses, maybe regretting his sentimentalizing.

“I don’t know. Jackie was loud and he hunted me well, I’ll give him that much. Marvin was this cocky, powerful thing, always flashing with jewelry - I always liked the way he shone. Henrik was tireless, Chase was a survivor. They had become, like I had, their own people.”

nikkilbook asked: Dap, I don’t think we ever asked, sorry—who are the ghosts? I remember seeing you having a puppet show with one, about Bro Average, but no one ever explained what was going on? And you don’t have to explain this if you don’t want to, but... who’s the red man?

Dapper sits back in his chair, a slightly glazed look coming over his eyes.

“Oh, I can see so many ghosts. Sometimes they’re scary but sometimes they’re nice. Look!” 

He points over at Doktor. Trick nervously holds his twin against him.

“It’s H-healing! His hair’s all green and he’s in Jack’s silly doctor costume. He keeps making jokes about fake surgeries and he’s so loud! He’ll bring me medicine if I get sick, but he’s still a ghost, he just doesn’t know it.”

Anonymous asked: Ah yes this again, because Jack is actually capable of love and you wanna daddy to love you, too, right?

Anti stares into the distance.

“Well, I guess that’s the other thing I remember,” he says. “That they all really loved each other. Always kind of… fucking hated that. And they’d all be smiling…”

Blue’s lips curl up into a sneer.

Anonymous asked: Ruined five perfectly good people, is what you did. Look at them, they've got anxiety.

“Glad we agree they’re ruined. Okay, let’s wrap this up, idiots, we gotta keep moving and I hope you know I’m not talking to you in the car.”

musical-in-theory asked: Why the fuck do you think that they deserve any of this???

“Please,” snaps Anti. “Assholes. Stupid - with their fucking house all together and all their goddamn ranting about ‘oh, we’re all brothers, we’re all family!’ Here’s what I think of your brotherhood - I can cut you into pairs and make you obsess over each other. Annoying fuckers. And Jack always looking at them with his goddamn - and they look - they look fucking just like him, and not in a way like I look like him, no matter how much I look like him, because they’re - they’re - they’re like him and - ”

Anti cuts himself off, turning away from you, panting.

Anonymous asked: Please see sense, Anti. Something about your methods has to change. It's not Blue's power or Dap's medicine that's the real problem. They will always rebel if your first instinct is to muzzle and collar and torture them.

“I’ll squash every rebellion, then.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Anti, who are you to decide what they deserve and what they don't? Even if they are your brothers, you should all be included and loved equally

“Okay, Mother Theresa, thanks for your words of wisdom. What about me makes you think I give a damn, and how do I correct that perception?”

Anonymous asked: Hes a scaredycat aw

“Shut the fuck up!” screams Anti. “Shut the fuck up!”

bupine asked: did you used to believe you weren't a monster?

“No, of course I did! I - you think you can look like a thing like me and not - you think - as if I wasn’t born with blood all over my hands, like - I know what I am! Why does the past matter?”

Anonymous asked: Why are you so hell-bent on keeping them?

“They’re mine, they’re mine, they’re mine!” screams Anti, shrieking like a seagull and glitching like a virus. “If I can’t have Jack I’ll take every fucking part of him! They belong to me, he owes them to me, he can’t them, he’s mine! I’m the master, I am, I am! Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!”

the-weirdest-fan asked: Do you ever regret making them your puppets, Anti? I know you probably dont feel bad for them, but do you miss the collection process? Surely that was pretty fun, right? Are you ever tempted to just say the hell with it, and kill them?

“I always used to dream about killing them,” says Anti, in a voice shaking with fervor, his eyes too wide. Blood is welling up against his shirt. “Sometimes I just want to see them all stop breathing. I could d-drive all six of us off a cliff and that would be it, that would be it, that would be it. Miss collection, miss collection, no, no, no, I like having them with me. Everything was so much safer once I had my little boy. Everything was promised, everything is okay when my little boy is working right. I just have to put him back together and cast my spell and go and everything is fine, everything is fine, everything is fine…”

Anonymous asked: You must be really scared then, Anti, being away from your own master and all.

Anti freezes stiff, his face turned away from you.

The wind brushes through his hair and the sun glows down on him. Blue’s deer mask fills up with light, and for just a second, Anti stands in it, and you see the light dusting of freckles along Blue’s arms, and the burned hairs of his beard, and the strong, proud curve of that back.

Eventually Anti turns around again and limps towards the car like he’s been punched in the stomach, taking you with him. His trembling hands turn the camera off, and you are plunged back into darkness as you lose your connection to the car.

Anonymous asked: I know a lot has happened and were in a real transitional mess once again...but I have to know: How is Noodle the cat?

Your sound comes back before your video.

A car door slams shut and then another opens, and someone gives a small gasp. There is a fumbling bumping noise as the camera is pressed into someone’s hands.

“So I can keep an eye on you all.” Anti’s voice is simmering water. There is a small click and Trick’s face appears above you, looking pale and scared. “I’m going to go get you something to eat. Keep your brothers in line.”

The door shuts and Anti is gone.

For a long moment, the car is silent.

Trick puts you back up on the ledge of the window so you can see everyone, smiling weakly. Dok is sitting beside him now, with Dapper on the floor instead. Red, in the passenger’s seat, might be asleep, and you can hear him breathing steady and deep.

“Noodle,” says Trick, trying to keep his voice light. “Is great! He’s the best boy in the world and I’ve got him right here.”

He reaches down to scoop the little cat up, presenting him to you with a shaking grin. Noodle mewls softly and paws at his hands, and suddenly Trick, without knowing why, is on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, you’re a good boy, huh?” he whispers, kissing his cat’s head. “You’re my good boy. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: They're in Peru. (or were, depending on when we reconnect). What are your thoughts on the Nazca Lines?

“Oh, uh,” Trick pauses, laughing nervously. “I didn’t know where we were. I, uh. Don’t know what those are. I’m sorry. I didn’t leave the house much… in fact, I haven’t in… weeks… well, not farther than the mountainside. I haven’t seen the city since we got off the plane. So, not much sight-seeing, you know? Those sound cool, though, whatever they are.”

“Carvings in the desert,” mumbles Dok, his head resting against the cool glass of the car window. “Far south of us.”

Relief washes down Trick’s face and he turns to grab his shoulder, beaming at him. “Hey, buddy, you with me again?”

Dok breathes slowly in. He seems to be making an effort to turn his head back towards Trick, to open his mouth and answer him, but eventually he just takes a shuddering breath and sinks down onto Trick’s shoulder, burying his face against him.

Trick squishes him into a hug, pressing their heads close together.

 “We’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I got you, don’t I? So everything’s going to be just fine.”

Anonymous asked: They’ll come, Marvin, just wait. It’s gonna be okay. Take it slow.

Dapper stares up at you, distress beginning to fill up his face again. You hear Trick give a deep sigh.

“Who’s coming? Where are we, where are we going? Why is nobody acting like themselves? I don’t want the bad men to come. There are people coming to get us and hurt us and eat us.”

“Dap! Nobody’s going to eat us!”

“Where’s Marvin? What is he waiting for? I want Marvin, I want Marvin!”

“Dapper, please, all you’ve been doing for hours is crying! Can you cut it out for two minutes, please!”

“We’re going somewhere bad! We’re going somewhere bad! Everything is shaking with power and it gets worse the closer we are. Too much magic, too much magic. I want Marvin. I’m hungry.”

“Anti went to get food, Dap.”

“Anti?”

Dapper falls quiet, rocking himself on the floor of the car.

Trick sighs and turns back to you. “And that’s something to thank God for, let me tell you. I was starting to get worried we were just going to keep driving and driving.”

“Blue’s not here to take care of us,” whispers Dok. “So he almost forgot we needed to eat.”

Trick sobers, staring down at the floor.

“They’re coming to get us,” Dapper complains, his eyes closed and his head pushed against the back of Red’s seat. “Scared, scared, scared. Ghosts! Ghosts! My stomach hurts, I hate this new medicine, I want my brain to work again!”

Trick runs his hand down his face, tugs Dok closer to his shoulder, and checks again on Red’s heartbeat, beginning to feel more than a little overwhelmed. Noodle sits purring on his lap.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How long have you guys been on the road?

“Hours, I guess,” sighs Trick, staring out his window. “Clock on the car is digital, so it just keeps glitching. Sun’s high now. We left in the dead of night. We stopped for a bathroom like, twice, but that’s all. I hope Anti gets us something good. Pizza or hamburgers - or - fried chicken or something so fatty and American it just about kills me on the spot.” His face is lit up. “Dok, what would you go for if you could have anything in the world right now?”

Dok lets out a short sigh, trying to think. “Mh… bacon sandwich…”

Laughter bubbles out of Trick like a fountain. “Bacon sandwich?”

“Bacon sandwich,” whispers Dok, grinning frailly up at him. His eyes may as well be lit from the inside, and heated, too, with warmth like that. “Toasty bacon sandwich… with… tomato.”

“Oh, here he comes!”

Anti returns to the car and pulls open Trick’s door. “Look edible, pup?”

Trick startles. “Oh - me?”

“Yeah? Aren’t you hungry?”

He can’t remember the last time Anti called him puppy! A burst of schadenfreude joy lights up in Trick’s chest and he resists the urge to give Dapper a smirk, instead reaching eagerly out to accept the brown take-out bag from Anti’s hands. Inside, sandwiches gleam brighter than silver inside of crinkling aluminum foil.

“Fuck, you got so many,” gasps Trick. “And - mashed potatoes too, and green beans!”

“I need to make sure you all get a good meal. Things might be… rough for a while. We might have to fight soon, Trick.”

Trick looks up, afraid. “Those people… they’re really going to catch up with us. Aren’t they, master?”

Anti sighs. For a second, he doesn’t look angry, or cruel, or biting - he just looks sad.

“Yeah, Tricks, I think so.”

“Anti?” asks Dok. “Can we get out of the car for a while?”

“Yeah, come on. Get Dap and Red out too. Stretch and sit down and eat. I think we need to… talk about some things before anything happens.”

A cold light gleams in his eyes again. “And maybe I need to reinforce a couple old lessons.”

bupine asked: shit, anti, can you not leave them alone for two minutes?

Anti seats himself at a little park table as his boys gather themselves together and start helping each other out of the car - well, mostly Trick, though Dok keeps turning around to check that Dapper is close at hand. Noodle paces around a tree on a little cat leash fashioned lovingly, carefully, out of cheap string.

Anti hums, feeling a breeze brush over Blue’s hair. He holds himself strangely, slumped over the table but not allowing his chest to touch the wood. He keeps shifting his hands and readjusting the mask on his pale face.

“Look,” he says. “What would be the point of any of this if I left them alone? If they sat here happily on this bench eating their green beans and giving Dapper little kisses on the cheek til his boo-boos are gone? If I let Blue go and him and Red got to cuddle for a while and feed each other roast beef? Please.”

Anti shifts, massaging at his chest, a little winded.

“Besides, then none of them would learn their lesson. The way Red, Blue, and Dapper acted last night is the most unacceptable thing I’ve seen since the night Jackie tried to run away with Dapper. No, he has to learn his lesson again, like he did now. And let’s stop lying to each other - you’re going to love every aching second of it.”

He smirks and adjusts the camera so you can see the expanse of the little rest stop lawn, some privacy provided between him and the convenience store where he bought the sandwiches by a few thin but determined trees.

“In fact,” he says. “Seeing as you were a part of what happened last night, I think you should be a part of this too, don’t you think?

“Red and Dapper need to be punished, and it has to happen before those fucking magicians catch up with us. Blue will get what he deserves when we get where we’re going. But we have a couple options and I think we should be entertained by it, don’t you? So you can pick.

“I can hypnotize one of them and spar with the other - you choose which of each, it doesn’t matter to me. Or I can make them both spar with each other, and the winner can beat the other one into a goddamn pulp.”

Anti leans back, Blue’s eyes glittering black in his stolen face.

“Decide. We both know you want to. You can do it without even telling us who you are… are you already thinking about it? Wouldn’t it be fun to see Dap hypnotized? Or Red? To spare one of them the pain of a real punishment, and let him sink back into my power again? Or wouldn’t you like to find out which one of them would win in a real fight? Come on. Don’t pretend. Decide.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How about none of the above? Let them be who they are, Anti.

“Boring,” sings Anti. “You can be more creative than that, can’t you? I’ll let you have some time to decide, but I expect an answer.”

He sits back as his boys approach, Trick chattering to Dok about everything and nothing, re-invigorated by affection and food. He sits himself right down next to Anti - a bold move - and starts pulling out food for his brothers. Dok sits wearily down beside him, pulling open his sandwich with tentative eyes, like he expects something to jump out and sting him. Dapper stares down at his sandwich, unenthused.

Red, for his part, is still standing by the car, looking panicked and ill, afraid of what Anti is planning for him - and he knows it must be something. Trick did not help him to the table and Dok and Dapper are not well enough to care for anyone right now.

“Um, Anti,” begins Dok softly.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

Dok’s mouth opens and closes again. He’s looking at Blue’s thin frame. After a moment he shakes his head and sits back again, glancing nervously over at you for help as Anti picks boredly at the wood of the table, not even glancing at the food and water.

bupine asked: anti, is your chest hurt? also, when did red and dapper try to run away, was that is norway? unrelated to both of these questions but how about no one fights! i feel like the trauma of last night is punishment enough, but i know you won't agree

“Oh, no,” says Anti. He reaches over and rubs at Dapper’s back, pulling on his overgrown curls. Dapper doesn’t seem to know how to react. “That was back in… yeah, we were still near home then. I brought Dapper to lure the hero in. He came almost right away. I broke him in pretty well, but after about a month he had a moment of weakness and he took Dap and ran. My poor little boy was too sick to even protest, just followed after the hero.”

His voice stiffens as he rereads your question. “Blue’s chest is… it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Doktor sinks down on the other side of the table, picking nervously at his bread.

Anonymous asked: dok is something wrong? are you worried about something?

Dok glances over at you and touches his stomach, looking back at Blue.

Anonymous asked: Hey Anti, it might be a good idea to let Blue eat. He’s probably starving after all that energy he used. He’ll get sick if he doesn’t. Anonymous asked: Anti, you should eat something. Blue’s body is starving like this. Bupine asked: anti, you need to eat too. For blue, obviously. He’s human too man. Anonymous said: anti, you’re going to seriously hurt blue if you don’t eat and drink. If you want to have an easier time managing them, you might want to prevent him from becoming severely ill

“Oh.” Anti blinks and sits up, scowling. “I forgot about that. I’ll eat later. Hate that fucking… swallowing and the way the stomach moves… and if I’m being honest, Blue doesn’t fit very well. He kind of - ”

Anti flinches suddenly, eyes wide, and his hands clench together.

“Stings,” he hisses, waving them through the air. “But maybe that’s the… burns…”

“Anti,” whispers Dok.

“What, darling?”

When Dok doesn’t answer right away, Anti looks up at him.

His face is bloodlessly pale and his hands folded gently in his lap. Downcast eyebrows and a pinched, sorrowful mouth make him look about as pathetic as Anti has ever seen him.

Usually Anti would laugh at him for begging, or pet and flatter him and enjoy the moment of weakness, but suddenly he doesn’t think that Dok is begging or acting at all. Not like Dapper learned to do when he was small. Dok has never done that. Dok is too straight-forward. Dok is a rod and always has been.

“I would like you please to eat,” he says softly. “Please.”

Blue’s mouth falls slightly open as he stares at him.

Then he shuts it again with a deep sigh, trying to banish old memories of a spit-fire doctor with a scalpel in his hand and Chase under his arm, yelling and refusing to be hypnotized, kicking when he was taken out of his cell…

“You never cause me any trouble, do you, Dok?”

Dok’s mouth smiles, but it never reaches his eyes.

“Try not to, master.”

Anti stares at him. Memorizes his face, in all the ways it is different from the others - the streaks of grey in his hair, the imprints of the carefully clean glasses, the way he holds himself, still proud after all these years…

“When we get where we’re going,” he says. “You’re going to watch over your little brothers and keep them hidden. You’re going to be tough and not break down and stop talking again. You’re going to keep Dapper safe and away from the fighting. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti,” whispers Dok. “Whatever you ask.”

Anti nods shortly, a small blush on his cheek, no longer able to meet Doktor’s eyes.

“Good boy,” he says shortly, and reaches for a sandwich.

Anonymous asked: Hey Dap, why don’t you take the camera over to Red and see if we can get him to come to the table to eat, yeah?

“Who’s Red?” whimpers Dap, curling in on himself. “Why is everyone acting so wrong? Why does Marvin burn like that? He is radiating black and blue. That’s not the right kind of light. That’s how you get burned. Bad magic. Good magic. Doesn’t it sting? Why is everyone acting so wrong?”

nikkilbook asked: Red? How’re you feeling, buddy? You weren’t doing so great the last time I talked to you, but then it looked like you at least got some sleep. Will Anti let you eat, or no? At the very least, you should go sit with Noodle. I bet playing with a little kitty will help.

Red is shaky and white. He glances over at you on the car window, his face contorted with pain. After a moment, you see his hands reach up to touch the muzzle on his face - and then fall again - and then rise again - he crumples back against the car door, panting through his nose and clutching at his hair.

“Hungry,” he signs. “But bad. Punishment. Afraid.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dap? How much of the truth are you remembering?

“I can’t tell what’s real,” wheezes Dapper with shaking hands, growing more and more upset, though a hand on his shoulder from Dok helps to calm him a little. “I can see a thousand pasts. I can’t see a single future. I want to go home but don’t remember where it is.”

“Dapper,” warns Anti softly, his eyes flickering up to him. Be cautious.

immabethehero asked: Dapper, Anti'll be furious if he hears you call Marvin by his real name. The others too. Marvin is Blue. That's who Anti is possessing right now. Jackie is Red. Chase is Trick. Henrik is Doktor. Use those names and don't let Anti know about this! He might do something awful!

Dapper rubs at his teary face, distressed. “No, none of them are my brothers! They’re all Anti! I can feel him! I can see ghosts! I can see their ghosts! Anti killed my brothers!”

nikkilbook asked: Red’s the name Glitchy McGee gave J-happy.

“Happy, happy,” whisper Dapper’s hands. “Joy.”

He breathes in and out deeply. You can almost see him forcing himself to calm down, staring over at Red by the car, his eyes wide. After a moment, he rises to his feet and heads towards Red.

Anti allows it, chewing on his sandwich. Trick and Dok exchange anxious looks, but they’re splitting a cup of mashed potatoes as quickly as they can, like they’re afraid the food will disappear.

“Here, here,” signs Dap, approaching. “It’s okay, Joy.”

Red’s eyes are like a horse caught in a barn fire. He throws his head, his hands reaching up, scared to unclasp the muzzle.

It’s like Blue said. You can always untie the rope, or tear out the stake, or unclasp the mask, but you never know what might come afterwards.

Dapper reaches gently up and undoes the clasp, pulling it away from Red’s face. It has dug dark purple bruises into his face and his mouth is white without enough blood moving through it, but it doesn’t seem to matter. His eyes are fixed on Dapper.

“Come on.” Dapper reaches out a hand. Red takes it and lets himself be pulled carefully towards the table and the food.

immabethehero asked: Dapper. Anti's brainwashed all your brothers. They're not dead. Just brainwashed.

“Oh, please, stop playing with him,” sighs Anti, rolling his eyes. “You can’t make sense to him when he’s all fucking crazy like this. Just leave him alone. I bet I can make him play baby again if I fuss over him for a little while, or wake up Carver if I shove him around a little. He’s fine. He just has… days. It’s a confused day, that’s all.”

Anonymous asked: maybe some other kinds of medication could help dap, not just with his hallucinations, but also with his paranoia? maybe anxiety medication could help?

“Haven’t had time to try anything like that,” mumbles Dok, rubbing at his face. Oh, his bones are so tired. “Barely got him off the Risperdal - he had to have it all out of his system before I could start him on anything new. And then the last one I tried made him really sick and moody and weepy, so I’m just getting him off that one too so we can try something else. Maybe some combinations would be a good idea. I’m afraid nothing is ever going to work as well as the Haldol did. But sometimes our bodies get too used to medicines and we just have to work around it now. Soon as we settle down safe again, I’ll find something that works, I promise.”

Anonymous asked: Thank you, Dap.

He gives you a big, nervous smile, his face twitching.

immabethehero asked: Why do you have so many nicknames for Dapper? Are they his own egos? (No pun intended i swear)

Anti blinks, assessing his youngest from the other side of the table.

“Mostly it was just me being fond of him. Pet names and what not. Carver is a compliment, it means he’s like me. But as I began to spend time with him and saw the ways his mental state could change from day to day, I did notice a difference, and at some point, I started to think of the more violent days as Carver’s, and the sweeter ones as Dapper’s. And, when he’s very, very quiet, and very deep in his own head, and can’t even get his limbs to move, and his magic is beyond his control, that is Monochroma. But I haven’t seen Monochroma since his snap. No, though, he doesn’t have alters or anything like that. It’s just me organizing his moods.”

nikkilbook asked: Anti said something about having you and Dapper fight. He wasn’t sure if he was going to possess one of you or just have you fight until one of you’s beat into the ground. We’re trying to make him change his mind, but... I don’t know if we’ll be able to. I’m sorry. Be safe, okay? And please, go see if they’ll let you eat. No sense letting yourself starve. Abirbable and pixie-in-trebleland sent similar asks and were added.

Red’s face contorts for a second at the first message, but he’s too hungry to focus on it. He reaches anxiously out for a sandwich and Dok presses it into his hand.

Red sinks away from the table and begins scarfing it down, his eyes flickering all around, waiting for the attack he knows is coming. He can’t get himself to calm down and even the brightness of the afternoon seems painful when he’s this overwhelmed. He feels a little more comfortable with Dapper at his side, at least.

He scoots in front of his little brother, relieved to have him behind him.

Anonymous asked: Dok don’t stress out, you’re all doing your best and that’s all that matters, alright? You’re taking care of Dapper and everyone else very well.

“Yeah!” Trick beams at his twin and presses a bottle of water into his hand. “Everything’s okay, Dok-Dok, see?”

Dok smiles wearily at both of you, his eyes ringed in dark circles.

“Guess for now I can just eat, huh?”

“Exactly,” soothes Trick, squeezing his hand. “Exactly. We’re okay. Anti’s got everything under control. Right, Anti?”

“Course, baby.”

Trick glows with affection, simpering at Anti, who giggles just to see that dopey, over-enthused smile. He reaches out to put his hand on Trick’s, massaging his palm, and Trick about melts.

“Listen, love,” says Anti. “I need to talk to you for a second.”

“Oh, yes, Anti, okay.”

“Red and Blue can’t be trusted right now. You know that.”

“Yes, Anti. They’re the ones that caused this. We’d be safe if they hadn’t done that.”

“There’s my good boy. You have been listening, huh? I’m worried the magicians maybe even got into their heads.”

Trick’s eyes are wide. “Really?”

“Yes. So you can’t listen to anyone but me now, right? Me and Dok. Those magicians might try and get in your head too. They might promise you things. Hell, even these fuckers in the camera might promise you things.”

Trick shoots you an irritable look.

“But I need to be able to finish this project with Blue. While I’m doing that, I can’t be interrupted. Do you understand?”

“Oh, yes. And you can’t trust Red to watch your back.”

“Exactly. Dok isn’t a fighter and Dapper isn’t well right now. That means you, Trick - you have to protect them while I do what I need to do.”

Trick has puffed up like a lion, his back straight. “Of course. I’ll keep them both safe. I won’t listen to anyone who tells me to go or to let anything bad happen. Anti, I’ll be really, really good.”

Anti smiles warmly at him and Trick’s cheeks rush with blood.

“You keep Dapper and Doktor safe from the magicians when they come,” he says. “And you and your twin can have anything you want in the next place we stay. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Yes.”

“Promise me.”

“I swear, Anti. I swear.”

“Good boy.”

nikkilbook asked: You had a scarf, right? To hide the muzzle? Try pulling that over your head to filter out some of the light.

Red likes that. All he wants to sense right now is the taste of his food and Dapper’s library book smell. He lies down in the grass and tugs his scarf over his eyes, breathing out a sigh of relief and running his hands over the patchy yellow grass.

abirbable asked: This may sound weird, but maybe try some breathing exercises, Red. That always calms me down. Or even listening to someone else’s pulse (as long as it’s steady).

Red breathes in.

Breathes out.

Breathes in -

Oh, shaky on that one.

Breathes out.

Trying not to cry.

“Want Blue,” he whispers.

spicydanhowell asked: trick you fucking bootlicker istg

Doktor barks out a laugh and immediately covers his mouth with his hands. Trick blushes bright red, a sudden terror in his eyes. Doktor looks guilty the second their eyes meet across the table.

“Sorry!” He tells him hastily, reaching out to pat Trick’s hand. “Wasn’t agreeing! Just surprised me.”

His twin draws away, trying to swallow.

Then Anti giggles too.

Trying to breathe, Trick chokes out something about checking on his cat and hurries over to Noodle before he can start crying, turning his back to the table and sitting quickly down with him in his lap. He pets rapidly at Noodle’s head, hugging him to his chest.

“You’re such a good boy,” he croaks, kissing his cat. “You’re good, you’re good, you’re good. You’re just trying to be good, it’s okay, I love you.”

Anonymous asked: hey dap, i know how scared and alone you must feel right now. we’re going to play a quick little game, okay? I want you to name five little things you can see around you, four things you can touch, three things you can hear, two things you can smell, and one thing you can taste. can you do that for me?

Dapper claps his hands together, a slightly over-bright light in his eyes, beginning to get his manic, confused enthusiasm back as his mood shifts again.

“I see - a deer covered in flowers. A pretty golden cat. I see bruises down this face and burns hiding on that one. I see my mustache!”

He pouts out his lips to bring it into his eyesight and grins at you. The smile is a little crooked.

“I can touch… warm grass. Black sweatshirt. Clean white dress shirt, except that my nose bled all over it. Bruise on my face. Stings. Stings. Master kicked me.”

The smile is very crooked.

“I can hear him breathing a little too fast next to me. I can hear him crying over by the trees. I can hear the wind.”

“I smell… forest magic. Black magic. Not a good combination, you see. We’re getting closer and closer and closer to a place very powerful. This, I think, is bad.”

He nods sagely and pops a bit of sandwich into his mouth.

“And I can taste roast beef! That was fun!”

Abirbable asked: I have a great idea for a third option! How about a fuckiNG V I B E C H E C K to the face?! Spicydanhowell asked: I don’t want to see them hypnotized. Ughhfbdshgdfn. Anonymous asked: Seriously? We can’t do that to them, Anti. Anonymous asked: uhhhhhhhh no. Anonymous asked: You know you can’t force down reality forever, right? They’re still the same people deep down, no matter how many spells you cast or minds you destroy. I get that maybe all you want is to be loved, but training your brothers to be your hound dogs that fight for scraps isn’t really the way to truly achieve that. Leave them be.

“You five,” says Anti, pointing at the camera. “Are the boring ones.”

He gets to his feet. Dok looks up at him, surprised, finishing off his second sandwich.

“Are we going, Anti?”

“In a moment. But first, why don’t we play a game, huh, Dok-Dok?”

immabethehero asked: WHo needs Anti's love, Trick? You've got the love of Dok and Red and Blue and Dap, and us! We're annoying as fuck but we don't constantly abuse you and take our daddy issues out on you

“I don’t want to talk,” whispers Trick, hiding his face in Noodle’s fur. He meows, valiantly licking at Trick’s fingers.

Anonymous asked: why don't you fight one of them, glitch bitch?

“Now we’re talking,” grins Anti, his eyes filling up with a wild light.

Anonymous asked: I really don’t like the sound of that.

“Check that. You six are the boring ones.”

Anonymous asked: Dap, do you know where you guys are headed?

“Some place much too powerful,” mumble Dapper’s hands, beginning to get a little sloppy with his signing. “A place for bad spells and bad people.”

“Dap, Red,” calls Anti. “Get up, boys.”

Anonymous asked: Would you fight with Marvin on though?

“Oh, of course, my darlings. That’s half the fun of it. Especially if you pick my dear Red.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Iiiii think Dap should be hypno'ed and Red to spar with? He has some pent up anger.

“Ahh,” breathes Anti, smiling wide. “Thank you, my friend. I knew someone would decide. I quite like that idea.”

Anonymous asked: Are you sure? I think seeing Carver would be interesting.

“Oh? Seeing Carver fight? We have an objection in the court. What would you all prefer? I’m quite impartial.”

spicydanhowell asked: NO DO NOT HYPNOTIZE DAP

“Oh, you don’t want your darling boy anymore confused than he already is, hm? I could do Red instead… or pit the two of them against each other…”

abirbable asked: One day you’re gonna break one or more of them beyond repair, Anti. You have NO idea what being a human is like nor the emotional trauma you’re continually causing them.

“Oh, please. You should have seen the time Doktor forgot the difference between a scalpel and a band-aid. Screaming for three days straight. Babbling in German no matter how much Trick tried to calm him down. But eventually he came back to himself. Eventually they all come back to themselves. I’ll handle it.”

Anonymous asked: Would this be Marvin’s punishment then? Getting beat to a pulp by his brothers?

“Oh, no. I have something much more important in mind. Blue will need his strength tonight. I expect we’ll be there in a few hours.”

nikkilbook asked: Carver versus you. Red’s punishment would be not being able to prevent either of his brothers from being hurt or hurting each other. Give what he risked today and why he risked it, seems like that would cut pretty deep.

“Intriguing. I like the way you think. But I can’t just let him be. He needs to be under my control one way or another - physical punishment or hypnotism.”

Anonymous asked: And one day they won’t be fixable and then you’ll be yelling at us like the whinny bitch you are. You made your bed, have fun sleeping in it.

“I will, thanks - wait a second, whinny? I think that’s a horse noise.”

spicydanhowell asked: just.... them against each other.... i know they won't kill each other..... Bupine asked: if I really, really had to choose? Pit them against each other, no hypnotism. Fair fight. Anonymous asked: Red v. Dapper? That’d be a very emotional fight.

“Ah, and now we’ve had all three options proposed! I knew you’d all make choices when it came down to it. How will we decide…?”

Interesting! I’ll make posts for each option and then compare the notes on them soon. Whichever has the most notes, I’ll write - and then, when that’s done, we’ll be at the final scene of the chapter tomorrow. Thanks, guys. Wasn’t sure you’d play along… but hey! I had to try out something new! Audience participation and all that.

Post 1: Dapper and Red should fight each other.

Post 2: Dapper should be hypnotized and Anti should fight Red.

Post 3: Red should be hypnotized and Anti should fight Dapper.

nikkilbook asked: Dap, could you do me a favor? Without touching J-happy’s skin, could you squish him as tight as you can? Like, put a bunch of pressure on his shoulders. He hasn’t had that in a while, and he’s having a really hard time right now.

Dapper and Red watch as Anti discusses with one of the cameras.

He holds in his hand a large silver knife, swinging it around with shining eyes as he demands and manipulates, searching for a decision to be made - but about what, they don’t know.

Dapper blinks over at you and then looks up at Red, seeing his big brother shaking hard, his face drawn and guilty and resigned. He has not been bandaged or cared for since last night and there is still blood on his face, deep bruises from the muzzle, and scoring cuts from the plants with which his twin’s power consumed him.

He looks so overwhelmed he could shatter. Red is an Atlas and always has been.

Dapper tugs gently on his sleeve, smiling up at him, and Red turns wearily towards him, softening a little for the look on his face. Dapper holds out his arms cautiously, beckoning for Red to let himself be held.

Red wipes at his face and sniffles. Nobody’s supposed to see him in pain. Nobody’s supposed to see him needing comfort. Least of all his youngest brother, clever, wild little Dapper. Well, not so little, really - standing beside him now, Red can see that Dapper is exactly his height.

Oh, he’s so tired.

He puts his head down on Dapper’s shoulder.

Dapper wraps his arms around him and squishes him tight, tight, tight, just like you wanted to, a string of soothing, soft, meaningless clicks chirping from his mouth, the warmest reassurance in the world.

“Okay,” says Anti, turning towards them. “Are you two ready?”

Dapper and Red should fight each other.

“Do you remember,” begins Anti, pacing towards them. “When you two used to spar all the time?”

Dapper and Red look at each other.

“I guess you probably don’t, do you, Red? And maybe Dapper, you’re a little confused.”

“No,” Dapper interrupts. “No, I remember.”

His hands are clenched into fists.

“Oh, good. Well, I love it when you do. We haven’t in a long time because first Red was rather badly off, and there was Blue to deal with, and then Dapper! You got stabbed! Wasn’t that silly! So you were on bed rest. But now - well, look at the two of you, standing tall.”

Red wipes at the blood on his cheeks, trembling. Dapper frowns and it makes his broken nose hurt.

“It’s really good practice for you both, seeing as you’re my strongest fighters and all that. My right-hand soldier, my Red, fighting like a guardian, refusing to be moved, refusing to let anything get past him, waiting for the right moment to get a good strike in. And the sly little pet that sleeps beneath my throne… my violent, dirty, sudden little fighter, Dapper who never seems to feel any pain. Of course when I let him use his powers he always crushes you into pulp, Red - he can see your every move coming. But that won’t work now… Dapper’s having a little trouble getting it up.”

Dapper’s face rushes with blush and he stares down at his feet.

“You wouldn’t cast when I told you to, would you, Dapper?”

He doesn’t have an answer.

“Why?”

“Please, master, I’m so - I don’t know what you’re talking about, I can’t - there was just fire, and I couldn’t - I don’t - I can’t find the right past and I - ”

“Shut up, shut up,” snarls Anti, annoyed. “I don’t want fucking excuses.”

He creeps forward, stepping right into Dapper’s space. For a moment, he stares at him.

“Dapper,” he murmurs, leaning down, so Blue’s mouth brushes by his ear. “Reverse this. Reverse all this and go back to before Blue gave himself up on the mountainside, and I will stop all of this, and you won’t be punished.”

Watery eyes stare up at Anti from above an open, desperate mouth. “Reverse?” stammer Dapper’s hands. “B-but I don’t… I don’t know what Blue giving himself up means?”

“Before the fire last night, Dap! Before Blue and Red snuck off up the mountainside to cast spells!”

Dapper shakes his head, choking.

“Change it back!” screams Anti, grabbing his wrists. “Change it back, I don’t care how much energy it takes! I know you’ve turned back a whole day before. I know you can! Change it back and you won’t get hurt, do you understand me? Why won’t you listen to me? Why did you suddenly disobey? Are you so out of your fucking mind that you can’t - ”

“Anti!”

A hand is suddenly clutching at Anti’s shoulder and he turns, panting, to see Red grabbing at his shirt. Pain spikes across the untreated burns that coat Blue’s chest, leaving Anti wheezing, sparks in his vision. Something is stinging throughout his whole body, like he’s gotten the wrong blood transfusion, and his hands are beginning to ache horribly, though he does not know why.

“Please,” cries Red. “Look at him. You’re going to make him snap again!”

There is a faint silver light in Dapper’s eyes and panic in his face. Anti turns to him, fear rising on the back of his neck.

“He’s lost track of the timeline. You’ve seen him do this before. If you push him past that, if you push him to reverse anyway, he won’t be able to go back safely and time will start to tear around us. Everything will blur together and we could all get lost or hurt or killed.”

“How do you know this?” whispers Anti.

For all that he’s angry at Red, the memory of Jameson’s snap is enough to halt him in his tracks.

“You were reset after that. You shouldn’t remember.”

“I don’t,” says Red faintly. “That was Blue’s speculation. He always wanted to know what you meant by a snap. He was sure it was more than a psychotic episode, or you wouldn’t talk about it the way that you do. Judging by your reaction… he was right.”

Anti turns to sneer at him, making Blue’s face ugly, and Red’s heart twists. “Fine,” he spits. “Your little baby doesn’t have to turn anything back since he can’t keep his head on straight. But you still have to have your practice for the day, my darlings.”

“Anti,” whispers Red. “Please. I don’t think you even want to do this, do you?”

“I want things to go back to the way they were!” screams Anti, backing away from him. “Just yesterday, we were so close to safety, Red! But you and Blue fucking ruined it, and Dapper refuses to fix your mistake! So, yes, I do want to see you two beating each other into the ground, like the wild, stupid animals you are. You’ll be broken in again as many times as it takes, and tonight, when I call upon you, you will fight for me.”

“I’m tired of beating my brothers around!” screams Red. “Look how scared he is, how scared he is of me! I’m done slapping them and yelling at them and grabbing them when they do something wrong! I’m - ”

“Oh, don’t fucking start,” snarls Anti. “Your stupid act.”

“No! This isn’t who I want to be anymore! I don’t want to do this!”

Anti’s voice raises in volume and pitch. “If you won’t fight the little brat, I will, and I promise you, I won’t stop til he can’t breathe through the blood in his face.”

“Please, just punish me, it’s not his fault!”

Anti stalks towards Dapper, raising the knife.

“No!” Red steps in front of him. Anti stares up at him. The hatred in his eyes - in Blue’s eyes - is so powerful Red could faint, and suddenly, all his courage is gone, and he is afraid.

“You’ll do it, then?” asks Anti coolly.

Red can feel Dapper shivering behind him.

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Over by the bench, Trick and Dok are standing so close to each other they could be Siamese, clutching Noodle between them. For a second, they look at each other, and see in the other’s eyes a question silently asked: should we do something?

But the other only answers, what can we do? What have we ever been able to do?

And they do not act.

Anti shoves Dapper towards Red and they regard each other uncertainly. In his impatience, Anti ends up striking Dapper three times on his own before Red is spurred into action, and begins to drive his little brother back, striking with sudden, harsh blows and following no matter how much Dapper tried to back away, confused and terrified. It’s a boring, aching sort of fight, and Dapper is upset and Red is hurting himself worse than he’s hurting Dapper, and then, after one badly-planned blow that ends up smashing hard against Dapper’s already blackened nose -

Dapper changes.

Red’s eyes widen as his little brother’s posture shifts entirely, his shoulders drawing back and his feet planting themselves steady on the earth, lifting him up on the pads of his feet. Suddenly Dapper’s befuddled distress looks more like a wild sort of fury.

He bares his teeth like a dog and begins forward, a hiss falling out of his mouth.

“There’s my Carver,” purrs Anti, sitting back on the park table, popping green beans into his mouth. “There’s my ferocious little pet.”

“Dapper,” calls Red, gently. “Dap, it’s okay. We’re just sparring, bud. It’s just me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hit,” snarl Carver’s hands. “Hit me. Slap. Red man. Bad.”

“Dapper - Dapper - ”

“I want my brother!” screams Carver. “I want my brother! But you are not him! You are not him! Jackie would never hit me! Anti has killed him! Anti has killed him, and you are the monster that remains!”

Carver tears forward like a jungle cat, teeth flashing.

From then on, Anti is laughing the whole fight long.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You can hear him sobbing it from the front of the car. Blood is flowing from his nose and he is curled in on himself, crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’ll never do it again, I’ll never disobey you again!”

Anti flickers through radio channels, humming.

“I was bad, I was bad, I was bad! I’m sorry!”

“Holy shit!” laughs Anti. “Are they playing this? Why? Haha, in Peru? That’s hilarious.”

‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’ blares out of the radio speaker. Anti sits back, drumming Blue’s fingers against the wheel and humming.

Behind him, Doktor and Trick are no longer sitting one on the ground and one on the seat of the car, but both curled into a single chair, hiding in each other’s arms. Noodle sits on the ground beneath them, gone silent, staring at Carver, who writhes in the other chair, screaming without sound.

He and Red are hand-cuffed together, Red’s arm reaching back from the front of the car, and Dapper’s reaching forward. Carver’s had his other hand tied down to the armrest too since he wouldn’t stop trying to lash out at himself or the twins.

“Now, Red,” purrs Anti. “You’re going to watch over Dapper really well once we get to the equator, right?”

“Yes, Anti, yes, Anti, yes, Anti, I am, I am, I am.”

Carver hisses and kicks at the seat in front of him, sobbing. He drags his hand up to draw a finger across his throat, and no one knows if he’s calling for Anti or making threats.

“You’re going to keep your little brother very safe?”

“Yes, Anti, won’t let anything happen to him, won’t go with the magicians, won’t listen to anyone but you, yes, yes, yes.”

“Dap, would you tire yourself out already back there? Goddamn. Country roads, take my home, to the place, I belong!” Anti bursts into giggles and the glitches on the radio laugh with him.

“Tomorrow all will be well,” he purrs, speaking to someone no one else can see. “Tomorrow, my darling, I will strip the magic out of your traitorous little chest in one of the most powerful places in the world, just to be sure nothing remains inside of you, and put it into my own instead. Your power will hide beneath mine and you will never be able to betray me again.”

He can hear something inside his head screaming out, just like it was while Red and Dapper fought, watching his brothers bite and strike and beat each other, until at last, Red surrendered.

“West Virginia,” sings Anti. “Mountain mama! Take me home, country roads.”

I’m going to fucking kill you one day, shouts Marvin, inside his own head. I’m going to fucking kill you for what you’ve done to my family.

Anti bursts into laughter and turns the radio up.

 End Section Seven of Chapter Two.

Find the final section here.

[redthreadoffate]

the spreading virus [arthur, ariadne]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

ship: arthur x ariadne, wolf (oc) x kitty (oc)

warnings: swearing; edited thrice in a span of…a few minutes so mistakes may be present

notes: this is 1 of my 3 inception babies; i was still using a different voice then but nothing else has changed

summary: there’s a virus spreading around, and arthur has to .protect his family before they can read safety

Happening now in Brooklyn…”

“…as President Rodrigo Duterte of the Philippines…”

“In other news, Tom Hiddleston and Tom Hardy team-up with Minka Kelly in a fantasy-filled…”

Whether you want to hear about what’s going on locally, internationally or even when it comes to celebrities, the news you hear on the radio, watch on television or read in the newspaper is the one you make sure to catch. And on Thursday morning, December first, it is no different from any other mornings. People wake up to tune in to the daily reports happening around the world.

And that’s just what Arthur Brandon is doing in the very early morning. The kitchen television is on and he’s currently watching today’s special reports. His ears pick up at the local news, and then listens carefully at international news, but zones out on celebrity news. He’s enjoying his brewed, black coffee and buttered toast.

Aside from the TV and his breakfast, his mind is working on a master plan for the day. He can hear footsteps upstairs and he can cross off ‘get children ready’. Once his wife arrives downstairs, they’ll share their two minutes of honeymoon-esque bliss before their daughter arrives to ask them for breakfast. It’s not a regular day for her; she’s playing hooky for a doctor’s appointment. Ariadne would be taking off a day from work to accompany their youngest. Their son would come down in a few seconds, his bag already filled with yesterday’s homework. Arthur would remind him about his inhaler and the younger man would roll his eyes and say, “yes, Dad”.

After a few short conversations, breakfast is over and they’re all ready to pile in the car. Drop Casey off, bring Ariadne and Spencer to the hospital and then it’s his turn to go to work. The day will be just like any other day, he thinks.

“Morning, Arthur,” Ariadne greets as she enters the kitchen. “Anything happening on the news?”

“None that we should be alarmed about,” he replies. They meet halfway and he kisses her. She returns it with much glee. “How’d you sleep?” he asks her, his hands now on her waist.

She gives him a crooked smile. “It scares me when it’s time for the kids’ annual check-ups. They’re going to go in fine—”

“And come out with something serious,” Arthur finishes. “I know, I worry about that, too.” He brings her close and assures her, “Spencer is going to be fine. She’s a healthy girl.”

Speaking of, the young girl arrives in the kitchen with a beam on her face. “Good morning, Daddy. Good morning, Mommy.”

“Good morning, Sweetheart. You seem more cheerful than usual,” Ariadne observes with a quiet laugh. “Is it because you’re skipping school today?”

Spencer giggles as she sits on the stool of the counter. “An excused absence!”

“Don’t be too proud of yourself, little missy,” Arthur teases. “It isn’t fun anymore when you’ve missed lessons and don’t know how to answer your school work properly in the future.”

The young girl sighs dramatically and raises her palms to her cheeks, “Oh, Daddy, you’re the one who keeps saying I’m smart.”

Arthur smiles and moves to kiss her forehead. “That you are, my princess.”

Footsteps approach the kitchen and Arthur doesn’t even have to guess who it is. The eldest of the Brandon children has arrived with his blue backpack behind him. “Morning!” he greets. The three initial Brandons return his cheerful 'morning’ as he slides beside his sister. Just as Arthur predicted, after reminding his son about his inhaler, Casey says “yes, Dad,” with a roll of his eyes. “Your birthday is almost nearing, Spencer.”

“Yeah!”

Ariadne smiles as she sets Casey’s plate in front of him. “What do you want?”

As soon as their mother is out of hearing range, Casey whispers in his sister’s ear. Spencer nods excitedly. “A puppy!”

Arthur and Ariadne look at each with twinkles in their eyes. “Oh really? Do you really want that, Spencey?” Arthur asks.

“I do! I do!” the young brunette replies. “And Casey does, too!”

“Spencer!” Casey shushes her.

About twenty minutes later breakfast is over, dishes are washed and everyone is ready to pile up into the car. Arthur gets into the driver’s seat while Ariadne sits on the passenger seat. Casey and Spencer get into their respective sides in the back seat, Casey behind Ariadne and Spencer behind Arthur. “Seatbelts,” their father reminds. When everyone is ready, Arthur starts the engine and the four begin their journey to their daily endeavors.

The traffic jam turns out to be horrible today. Arthur fears that Casey would be late for school, Ariadne assures him that there’s always a first for everything. Stuck in the city, Casey and Spencer decide to play a childhood game wherein their parents have to guess what they are thinking about. They are now on the fifth round and the adults have yet to guess what the children are thinking.

“Can you keep it as a pet?” Ariadne asks.

“Maybe,” Casey says with a slight shrug. “Possibly.” Spencer nods in agreement. “Dad?”

“So you can see it in the pet store?”

“Nope.” Spencer shakes her head.

Ariadne bites her bottom lip in thought. “Tricky. So it can be a pet but it can’t be found in the pet store…so it’s in the zoo!”

“Yes!” Spencer cheers.

Arthur nods as he steps on the gas pedal but not moving more than ten inches. “When you meant keep it as a pet, did you mean that it is a pet in the zoo?”

Casey replies, “You can also keep it in the house.”

Ariadne sighs. “Alright, I’m ready to use my one and only answer.” Casey and Spencer eagerly coax her. “Some sort of sea animal? A shark, maybe?”

“Wrong!” the kids yell with glee at the same time. If Arthur doesn’t get it, the score would be three-two. Guess who’s winning. “It’s not that, Mom,” Casey says. “Although good guess. That was what we were almost thinking.”

“Your turn, Daddy.”

Frustrated with the traffic jam and partly bored with the childhood game, Arthur shrugs and says, “I give up. What is it?”

“A wildcat!” Spencer announces. “We win! Casey and I win!”

“Oh, I see,” Arthur murmurs. He’s now interested in the commotion happening in front of him. Two men have begun arguing, one man who had stayed in his lane while the other had tried to overtake him from another lane. As he was watching intently, thinking of plans on how to get out of the scene in case anything will happen, an NYPD officer in a motorcycle zooms past their car with much force that they broke the side-mirror. “What the—”

“And he’s just going to run away!?” Casey demands

“Stay inside,” Arthur commands as he unfastens his seatbelt and unlocks the door.

“Be careful,” Ariadne tells him

Arthur steps out of the vehicle and walks the short distance to where the side-mirror landed. He’s cautious about the men who are still arguing with one another. As he picks up the damaged part the driver from the car beside him asks if he’s all right. “Good, just…” Arthur shows the side-mirror to him, “poor thing.” The driver gives a crooked smile before nodding. Arthur returns the nod before returning inside the car. “That went well.”

Just then, another NYPD officer in a motorcycle arrives and stops right beside their car. “Stay inside! Stay inside! Do not—” He is unable to continue his sentence as he is hit by a speeding (or as fast as it could get) truck. Casey immediately covers Spencer’s eyes. Ariadne and Arthur look at each other in shock.

“Daddy, what’s going on?” Spencer asks, eyes still covered by her brother’s hands. “What happened to that man?”

Arthur doesn’t answer. Instead, he looks out the window and sees people screaming and running around. The two men in front had stopped arguing and are now back inside their cars, honking away. The driver beside them had run away, leaving his side of the door wide open. Arthur feels Ariadne’s hand hold onto his elbow. “The children,” is all she says. He nods in understanding. He’ll get them out, he’ll get them safe. Suddenly, another truck passes by them and Arthur notices that it’s making a path way for itself. He re-fastens his seatbelt and says, “Hold on tight.”

Casey lets go of his sister and holds onto the seat. Spencer looks at him before copying his movements. Ariadne holds on to the door. Arthur steps on the gas and follows the truck wherever it passes by. This goes on for a good few minutes but once he hits the intersection, Arthur doesn’t see a car to his left. They crash and for a moment, everything is black and blurry for him.

“Ariadne,” he manages, “the kids…” He looks to his right and sees Ariadne trying to calm the children down. She’s holding onto her temple meaning she may have a bump. But as parents, their first priority will always be the children. “We have to get out,” he says softly. “Have to find…someplace safe.” Ariadne unbuckles her seatbelt and opens her door. Arthur gathers up his energy before doing the same, thinking that the kids should be safe. He opens Spencer’s door and unfastens her seatbelt. “Are you okay, Spencey?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she replies, “I’m okay.” She puts up a brave front.

He picks her up and places her on his hip. On the other side, Ariadne is caressing their son’s hair, probably to calm him down. At the corner of his eye, he sees people running away and screaming, not much of a different sight from earlier.

However, this time, he sees a man acting strangely. He’s running towards the people as if he’s about to attack them. He watches closely. The strange-acting man aims for a van not far away from him. He tries entering the van but the people had locked themselves in. To Arthur’s surprise, the man jumps to the front and tries to break the windshield. After a few attempts, he is successful and drags the driver out before…biting him? Arthur’s eyes widen. He bit the driver. At the back of his head, he began to count…

'One Mississippi…’

“Arthur, we have to go!”

'Two Mississippi…’

'Three Mississippi…’

It’s not until the third second that the bitten man begins to have a seizure.

“Arthur!”

'Four Mississippi…’

The man begins to stand.

'Five Mississippi…’

'Six Mississippi…’

His seizure continues.

'Seven Mississippi…’

“Arthur, let’s go!”

'Eight Mississippi…’

'Nine Mississippi…’

“Daddy!”

'Ten Mississippi…’

His head twists and turns.

'Eleven Mississippi…’

He growls.

'Twelve Mississippi!’

Attacks.

“Arthur!”

Arthur jumps out of his thoughts and turns to see Ariadne holding onto a heavy breathing Casey. He looks around for a way to escape. “There!” He points towards a heavy van. “Get in there!” The family begins to run. But all the while, Arthur watches what the bitten man is doing. Once they reach the van, he searches for the keys and fortunately, they’re still in. Just as he is about to start the engine, a woman attacks them and is forcing her way inside through the open window. Arthur does his best to ignite the engine. When it does, he drives a little recklessly, hoping to throw out the woman. But to his surprise, Ariadne kicks the attacker and they are, at last, pretty safe.

As they enter the highway, Ariadne moves to the back of the van to stay with Casey, whose breathing intensified. After a few minutes, she calls her husband to pull over so that she could look for his medicine. Arthur stays with his son as Ariadne searches through Casey’s backpack. “There’s only one in here, the extra one is in my purse…shoot, I left it in the car in a hurry to leave.”

“It’s alright,” Arthur tells her. “We’ll figure this out. The one we have now will have to do.” Arthur kisses Casey’s forehead as he moves back to the driver’s seat now that Ariadne has taken over once again. “Are you okay there, Spencey?”

Spencer, who had been going around the van, nods and says, “Yes, Daddy. Look what I found!” She comes out of the cabinet she had been looking at and reveals a Remington 700 BDL rifle.

Arthur immediately stands to go to her. “Whoah, whoah, whoah! Be careful with that.” He takes the dangerous weapon away from his daughter and places it on the passenger seat. Must be a hunter’s van, he wonders. When he sees Spencer back on her seat, he sits on the driver seat again, ready to start the engine. But just then, there is a vibration going on in Arthur’s pocket and he realizes someone’s calling him. He looks at the screen and sees a familiar name. “Hello?”

“Are you with your family?”

“Yes.”

“Are you safe?”

“For now.”

“Good. We’ll pick you up as soon as we can.”

“You mean, you can’t pick us up now?”

“I’m afraid not. We have some…issues. The earliest we can is sunrise.”

Arthur sighs. “Better than nothing.”

“Find some place safe for the night and we’ll get you once we can, I promise.”

“Alright.” When they end the call, Ariadne asks who was on the other line. “It’s Dom,” he answers.

Ariadne looks at him. “And?”

“He’ll pick us up as soon as he can. But that won’t be until sunrise. We need to get supplies.” He revs up the engine and moves forward. “We’ll find a supermarket or something along the way.”

It takes them an hour to find a grocery store. Unfortunately, word must have gone out and there are people rushing in and out of the place. Arthur stops the engine and grabs the keys. As he is about to go down he remembers the rifle and looks at it for a second before deciding to take it with him. The whole family rushes inside the store and Arthur takes Casey’s hand. “We’ll find the medicine.”

“I’ll get as much supplies as we can,” Ariadne says. She picks up Spencer and places her inside the nearest pushcart she can find. “If we don’t find each other we’ll meet back here, alright?”

“Okay.” Arthur nods. They separate and Arthur and Casey head to the pharmacy. Once they’re there, Arthur immediately looks for albuterol.

“Dad,” Casey calls out, his voice shaking.

Arthur looks up and sees a twenty-something junkie holding a gun. When he looks behind the younger man he sees the pharmacist dead on the ground. Arthur shields his son with his own body. “Hey.”

“What are you looking for?” the young man asks.

“Albuterol,” Arthur replies.

The junkie nods towards Casey. “For him?”

“Yeah.”

Without a word, the younger man moves behind the desks and grabs a few packs of medicine. He walks to Arthur and hands him what he has. “Take it.”

Arthur grabs the medicine and says “thank you”. Before he could ask more questions he hears a familiar scream. “Spencer!” he calls out. He turns around and sees the pushcart his daughter is in just a few feet away from him. Ariadne is nowhere near her. Arthur brings Casey to his little sister and he drops the medicine in the cart. “Where’s Mommy?” he asks.

“Arthur!”

“Stay here,” Arthur instructs Casey. He then sees Ariadne being assaulted by two men not far from them. “Hey! Hey!” Arthur aims his rifle at them and successfully shoots one of the two. Distracted by his companions injury, Ariadne gets the chance to escape and runs to her husband. When the uninjured assaulter realizes that Ariadne is gone, he turns out to also have a gun, a SIG-Sauer P229, and starts shooting at the couple. Arthur shoots at his leg. A cop from one of the aisles appears and Arthur raises his hands to surrender…but the cop jogs past them and begins collecting his own supplies. Arthur and Ariadne look at him then at each other before returning to their children.

Once they have gathered all the supplies and placed them in the bags that they had gotten they leave the grocery store.

“Where’s the van?” Casey asks.

“What?” Arthur looks up to where they left the van and sees that it’s gone. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “Someone must have hotwired it.”

“We didn’t leave anything important, did we?” Ariadne checks to see Casey and Spencer carrying their bags and Arthur nodding. She looks around and spots a building some kilometers away. “Arthur.” She points at it.

Arthur holds on to Spencer who holds onto Casey while he grabs onto his mother. He reaches for his phone and calls Dom. “Cobb, we’ll be in the Aero building. Yeah…still here in Brooklyn, yes…we’ve got flares, that’ll be our signal tomorrow…alright, alright.”

The four continue running towards their destination, dodging people who are trying to attack them. As they near the building one of the attackers aims for the children. Arthur doesn’t bother to think, he just aims the rifle at the incoming intruder and shoots him. Without wasting a second the family runs inside but they are chased by another group. They run up the stairs looking for an open door. Luckily, a door on the fourth floor is open and Ariadne ushers the kids inside while Arthur holds off the monsters.

“Arthur, get in here!”

He quickly kicks the one he had been fending off and rushes inside, closing and locking the door behind him. Panting, Arthur checks on his family and notices one member is missing. “Where’s Spencer?”

“Please let me in!”

Arthur and Ariadne look at each other before running to the corner of the hallway. They see Spencer standing in front of a door and calling for the people inside to let her in. “Spencer!” her parents call out.

When they reach her, the door opens and they see a man not older than Arthur with curly brown hair. A woman, almost the same age, with tan skin and long dark hair is behind him. “Get inside,” the man orders, “hurry!”

Spencer runs inside as Ariadne follows. Casey is a little hesitant but Arthur ushers him inside. “Dad,” is all he says.

“I’ll take care of it,” the father assures the son. Casey nods and hurries inside with Arthur.

Once inside, the man locks the door and pushes a heavy cabinet to block it. Arthur doesn’t think it will hold but it will do for now. The woman disappears into a room and comes out a minute later with glasses of water. “You must all be thirsty from running,” she says and hands each Brandon member a glass. “Here, it’s cold.”

“Thank you,” Casey and Spencer say in unison.

“Thank you,” Ariadne follows with a smile.

Arthur gives a tight smile before drinking from his glass.

“Are you all okay?” the man asks.

Arthur grunts. “We’ve been better.”

The woman leads them into another room—the dining room—and gives the children some food. “I made these this morning,” she says as she puts the plate down. Chocolate chip cookies. “Dig in.”

“Thank you, miss!” Spencer says with enthusiasm. She gets a cookie and bites into it with great gusto. “This is delicious!”

The man, presumably the head of the house, looks to both Arthur and Ariadne. “Please, make yourselves at home. I can tell you’ve been running around the whole day.”

Arthur gives him a glance. “Thank you for bringing us into your home.”

“It’s no problem.”

After a minute of silence, the woman clears her throat. “How rude of us, we haven’t introduced ourselves. My name is Katharine, but you can call me Kitty.”

“Kitty!” Spencer gasps.

“Ms. Kitty,” Ariadne corrects. She gives Kitty a small smile before introducing herself. “I’m Ariadne. This is my daughter Spencer, and my son Casey.”

“Hello,” Kitty greets. “You look the same age as my son,” she pats Casey’s head.

“My name is Arthur.”

“And I’m W—Cirian.”

“You can call him Wolf,” Kitty says with a huge smile.

Wolf chuckles. “I suppose.”

“You mentioned you have a son,” Ariadne says. “Is he here?”

Kitty nods. “Yes, he’s in his room. He’s quite scared.”

After talking a bit, Casey and Spencer succumb to their exhaustion and Wolf and Kitty offer their bedroom to them. Ariadne politely declines but the husband and wife would not take no for an answer. Arthur and Wolf get to know one another while Kitty and Ariadne bond. Arthur and Wolf both don’t say much about their lives but they can tell that they can trust each other. Meanwhile, Kitty and Ariadne talk about their children.

Arthur excuses himself to check on his children. When he enters the master bedroom, he sees Casey asleep but Spencer nowhere to be found. Assured that she’s just somewhere around the house, he begins to search for her. He enters another room and sees his daughter sound asleep on a blue-covered bed. A young boy is watching over her.

“Are you her father?” he asks when he notices Arthur come in.

“Yes. And you are?”

“Liam,” he answers. “She came into my room wanting to talk to someone. She fell asleep. I decided to watch over her.”

Arthur smiles. “Thank you.”

The next morning the Brandons are preparing to leave. Arthur borrows a knife and tapes it to the edge of the rifle, copying a bayonet. Wolf, Kitty and Liam are watching them. Spencer, who had been staying close to Liam, turns to him and says, “Come with us.”

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I don’t know. But somewhere safe. Daddy was talking to Uncle Dom.”

Arthur looks at the family in front of him. “Come with us. It’ll be much safer.”

Wolf looks at Kitty. “We’ll be a burden.”

“No,” Ariadne intervenes. “Come with us, please.”

“If you need to pack anything, hurry,” Arthur orders. Wolf and Kitty don’t need to be told twice. Kitty brings Liam with her to the master bedroom while Wolf removes the rug on the floor, revealing a secret door. Arthur watches him. After rummaging through, Wolf reveals he had a Benelli Supernova Tactical hidden beneath. As he readies the weapon, Arthur notices a familiar tattoo that was hidden by the long-sleeved shirt Wolf was wearing. Arthur usually hides his with a watch. Arthur smirks. “You never said you worked for Avalanche.”

“You never said you owned it,” Wolf says, mirroring his smirk.

When everyone is ready and Arthur briefly explains to them that Avalanche will send a rescue team for the family, Wolf and Arthur move the cabinet away. Quietly, the two families move to the fire exit, careful not to attract any of the attackers. Reaching the stairs without any problems, Arthur and Wolf have a silent agreement that one should be up front and another as the tail. Wolf ends up at front since he knows the place more.

Unfortunately, as they near the top of the stairs, one monster appears and begins to chase them. “Go, go, go!” Arthur commands. The families run up as quickly as they can. Arthur gets stuck on the second flight and tries to fend off the attacker. Saliva begins to drip down to his shirt and Arthur fears this could be another way to make him turn. There’s a bang and Arthur looks up to see Wolf aiming his Benelli at the fallen one. “You good?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Come on, let’s go.”

Arthur stands and makes his way up the stairs. He can smell the smoke of the flare but once he Wolf lock the door, he heads straight for the edge and begins counting to twelve. He can hear his family calling out for him but he’d rather fall than make them kill him. “One thousand and ten…one thousand and eleven…one thousand and twelve…” Everything is normal. He stays for a few more second before returning to the group.

“What’s wrong?” Ariadne asks.

“DNA,” is all he replies. He hears a chopper flying by and he’s sure it’s the one sent by Avalanche.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” both Arthur and Wolf say.

Suddenly the door begins to bang and more attackers are breaking through the small glass. Arthur hopes that the chopper would hurry. His hopes don’t come true as the door is broken the monsters start aiming at them. Wolf and Arthur shield their families and ready their rifles. Luckily, the people on the chopper start firing and they’ve hit more than the two men could. The chopper finally lands on the roof and the two families enter without hesitating.

“Go!” Arthur instructs Wolf. Once he’s inside, Arthur makes a run for it and climbs the chopper. The soldiers inside fend off the remaining attackers as they ready for takeoff.

Once up in the air, everyone relaxes. One of the soldiers removes their sunglasses and sighs. “This is not how I planned a family reunion would be.”

“Uncle Edward!” Casey and Spencer shriek.

“And there are my two favorite godchildren.” He smiles.

“Edward,” Arthur calls him.

“Hey, big bro.”

It takes about an hour to reach the base, and when they do, the one and only Zobedja Brandon greets them. Dom Cobb is on his side. The soldiers help the children and the women off the chopper and Arthur and Wolf look around a bit to see what they had been missing. Spencer grabs Liam’s hand and they run towards the older man in charge. Casey is uncomfortable with how close his sister is to the boy.

“Grandpa! Grandpa!” Spencer calls out.

Zobedja crouches down and engulfs his granddaughter in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re safe. I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too, Grandpa.” When she squirms away from him, she introduces Liam to the older man. “This is Liam, he’s my best friend.”

“Hello, Liam.”

“Hello, sir.”

Casey is now on the other side of Spencer and he greets his grandfather. “Grandpa.”

“Casey.” This time Zobedja hugs him. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Arthur and Ariadne follow, with Wolf and Kitty not far from them. Edward jogs to his father’s side. “Dad,” Arthur says. “Thank you.”

Zobedja smiles. “It’s no problem.” He turns to his other son and tells him to lead the women and children to their rooms. Edward nods and asks them to follow him. Wolf wonders why he’s still here. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Guillory. I see you and Ms. Hart have been busy.”

“She’s Mrs. Guillory now.”

Zobedja chuckles. “I see.”

“What’s happening, Dad?”

“I need your help, Arthur. You’re the best researcher out there and only you can help us figure out a way to know and solve this problem.”

“You mean, no one knows how this started?”

“There have been theories, but none has been proven. Adam has been trying to figure it out what’s happening.”

“Dr. Eames?” Wolf clarifies.

“Yes.” Zobedja nods. “But he needs more samples and he needs to know the root cause before he can help make a cure…if it’s possible.”

“What do you need?” Arthur asks.

Zobedja sighs. “I need you, Adam, and now that you’re here Cirian,” he nods to the other man, “to fly to South Korea. That’s where the first known zombie,” he clears his throat, “or patient zero, was said to be.”

Arthur and Wolf look at each other and give the commander a nod.

tagging: @angel-cap

[chanzicoup]

A/N: I got this template from tenseoyong and I could not find the original creator to give proper credit to.

A = Announcement.- How do you tell him and the world that you’re expecting?

Fans would start to gather information based off of the some what baggy clothes you were wearing recently and the random stops to the store for food at all hours of the night, at some point Ten would post the confirmation on his social media, the photo of the positive pregnancy test being the photo.

B = Books.- Did he read the books?

No.

C = Cuddles.- Who cuddles the baby more?

He would spoil this kid rotten, you’d end up being the sensible parent while Ten is the childish one.

D = Daddy.- His reaction to being called Daddy and it setting in.)

The baby’s first word was “daddy” and it was caught on camera too, let’s just say Ten saves a copy of this footage in his phone for when he’s traveling and misses you two.

E = Empty.- Who goes to the store when you guys run out of supplies?

Ten would since this gives you a chance to relax even for a few minutes as Ten takes the baby out too and lets them pick whatever they want to buy. You would ask him to go get milk and he comes back with six bags of toys and no milk.

F = Feeding time- Who does feeding time?

You probably would since Ten would play too much while feeding the baby that they’d be too excited to eat.

G = Grumpy baby. - Who is better at dealing with a grumpy baby?

Totally Ten. He is the master of play time.

H = How?- how many kids does he want?

He is a bit unrealistic since he would want like three kids while you’re exhausted with just the one.

J = Jokes.- best dad joke?

Kid: “Dad, did you get a haircut?”

Dad: “No, I got them all cut.”

K = Kisses.- His favorite place to kiss the baby.

He doesn’t have a specific place where he kisses the baby, he just likes being around the baby as much as possible.

L = Little.- How he feels when he holds the baby for the first time.

He’s a giggling mess, whispering to the newborn as you get some much-deserved rest after the long labor. He’s apprehensive about letting the doctor’s take the baby since he thinks the baby is so fragile it’ll break like glass.

M = Mommy.- what does he call you?

He’d like the petname “sweety” for you.

N = Nappies.- who deals with the really bad diapers?

Ten’s childish when in the presence of his own child, so he’d groan really loudly to make them giggle as he changes their diaper. When they learn how to walk though, that’s another story since they get so wound up they start running around the house without a diaper on.

O = Onesies- Who likes to dress the baby in ridiculous outfits?

Ten would totally buy his baby Gucci flip flops and Versace shirts. For no good reason other than a good Instagram picture.

P = Pet names- names he calls the baby.

“Angel”

Q = Questions.- How many questions does he ask the nurse?

None, all he is thinking about is the positives so he lowkey ignores the big things until you bring it up to him.

R = Rely- what is the biggest thing you rely on each other for?

He would rely on you to talk to him when you feel like he isn’t pulling his weight with the baby, he wants to be more useful to you and not just be around for play time. You would rely on him to take things seriously from time to time and to not make you look like the villain when you need to put your foot down.

S = Sleep duty. - who gets up when it’s really late at night?

This is one of those times Ten likes to help you out, though it is tempting to blow a raspberry into the baby’s stomach at three a.m, he knows it’ll wake you and them up.  

T = Trepidation.- fears as a new parent.

He’s worried the child won’t trust him in the future because how much he likes to joke around. All he wants is for his child to feel safe with confiding in him and to talk to him if something is bothering them.

U = Ultra sounds.- His reactions to the ultrasounds.

This particular ultrasound was at the three months mark and the baby couldn’t be seen until that day, so you and Ten were so ecstatic to finally see the shape of a head in place of a grey blob on a screen.

V = Values.- what is the most important value he wants to teach your child.

He wants to teach his child the importance of trusting or not trusting others and wants them to be careful who they hang around as they grow up. He doesn’t want his child to be brought down by peer pressure.

W = Water.- Who gives the babe the baths?

He would since he’s found a way to trick the baby into getting clean while playing with them.

X = X-mas- what do you guys plan for the holidays?

His family is in Thailand so he’d love to go there to visit them with his own little family, and of course, he’d want to do the same for you. What you guys might do is visit both sides of the family before the actual holiday and spend that day specifically for the three of you only.

Y = Yelling.- How many fights do the two of you get in?

Some little fights would happen pretty often, usually over small things like disagreements. Things wouldn’t get so bad very often and when they do a third party comes in and explains that it’s not worth ruining your relationship over and you guys end up talking about it all.

Z = Zoo- How crazy is the house after the birth?

It’s a bit messy since there is an abundance of toys laying around, but when there are guests coming over everyone in the house works hard to make the rooms look presentable.

~Blake

[theprocrastinatingalien]

Battle of The Walking Dead - Batch#4 Heats (featuring Daryl, Jesus, Hershel & Glenn)

The Battle of The Walking Dead continues, as we begin our fourth and final batch of characters from THE WALKING DEAD and FEAR THE WALKING DEAD.

16 new characters brace themselves for your verdict as you pick and choose which of them advance to the next round, and which are sent packing.  You have already voted for your champions from the first three batches, and they wait in the comfort of the VIP lounge, anxious to discover which of this bunch you'd have join them.

So, who are you options?  Let's find out...

JESUS

Paul 'Jesus' Rovia appeared in season six of THE WALKING DEAD.  Rick and Daryl met him, and he took them back to his community - The Hilltop.  This lead to them taking on the Saviors, for better or worse.  Mostly worse.  Tom Payne plays Jesus, essentially a man of peace, but with the ability to high kick and would be attackers with his martial arts.

KING EZEKIEL

We met Ezekiel during the seventh season... and what an entrance!  How many characters get to say they've got a pet tiger?  Just Ezekiel!  The former zoo keeper (and part time actor) rules his community The Kingdom, with Shiva at his side.  Well, until the loyal feline sacrificed itself to walkers to allow his master and friend escape.  Khary Payton plays the extravagant leader, but with the character's comic book death fast approaching... for how much longer?

DARYL DIXON

Oooh, so here's a big one.  Daryl, a character made especially for the series, has become a fan favourite.  In the early days of TWD he was a loner, gruff and argumentative.  Since then his bond with Rick Grimes has grown, and he's become Rick's right hand man.   Norman Reedus is expected to take over as the headlining actor with Andrew Lincoln's exit in season nine.

LIZA ORTIZ

Liza was Travis' ex wife in FEAR THE WALKING DEAD.  Played by Elizabeth Rodriguez, as well as being Travis' ex, she also happens to be Chris' mum.... so when Liza found she was bitten by a walker at the end of season one, Chris was distraught, especially to find it was Travis who shot her to put her out of her misery.

MERLE DIXON

Like Daryl, Merle was invented for the series.  Played by Michael Rooker, Merle was a bit of dick tbh, and after a run in with Rick, was left handcuffed on a building roof in the blazing heat.  How did he escape?  He sawed his hand off.  Tough guy!  In season three we find him alive and well, working alongside series villain The Governor.  He now has a blade attached to his stump!  Sadly,  Merle was bitten, and Daryl had to finish him off.   When Daryl cries, we all cry.

CARL GRIMES

Another big one.  Many fans see Carl as the future... the character to outlive the others and survive the world.  So it was a bit of shock when, in season nine of TWD, Carl was bitten and died.   It was a shock to actor Chandler Riggs too, as comic Carl is the character creator Robert Kirkman said wouldn't be killed off.  The series and comic will now take very different paths.

ROSITA ESPINOSA

When Glenn met Rosita, she was travelling with Abraham and Eugene.  She was romantically involved with Abraham until he finished her to be with Sasha.  When Abraham was killed, it send Rosita off on a journey of sorts... one that got her a little bit shot. But she survived.  We not get to see what Rosita - and actress Christian Serratos - get up to in season nine, as the ladies of the cast get showcased.

TROY OTTO

The youngest of the Otto family, it's fair to say that Troy was a little bit... troubled.  A little bit too quick to jump to violence.  It seemed he was starting to calm down a bit, as his family bit the dust one by one, and his family ranch got over run by walkers.  After moving on with Madison and the rest of the FEAR THE WALKING DEAD cast, Madison realised Troy was still trouble and decided it'd be better to kill him.  As you do.  A shame, as actor Daniel Sharman was an asset to the show, but was only in season three.

T-DOG

One of the originals for the Atlanta camp in season one.  T-Dog was a bit of muscle for the group.  Only really a supporting character, T-Dog never really received his own storylines, and in season three, during an attach on the prison - where the gang were living, T-Dog was killed, and actor IronE Singleton went with him.

LOLA GIBBONS

Not a massive role on FEAR THE WALKING DEAD, but Lola was the (eventual) manager of an important damn.  Daniel Salazar took a liking to her and served her purpose, but sadly she, as most characters did in season three, died. She was played by Lisandra Tena.

JAKE OTTO

Troy's older brother, and Jeremiah's son... he was initially the sensible one.  Jake showed he had a bit of a temper and started showing signs of bad leadership.  So he was killed.  Because that's what happens in this world.  He was played by Sam Underwood.

GARETH

After the destruction of their home, the prison, all the characters in THE WALKING DEAD were separated and lost, and trying to find each other.  They all found signs to a place called Terminus... a safe haven.  Sadly, Terminus was not that safe.  The people, lead by Gareth... were cannibals! Yikes!  In season five, Gareth kidnapped Bob and ate his leg.  Bob got the last laugh though as he'd been bitten... so he was 'tainted meat'!  Gareth was played by Andrew J West.

DR DENISE CLOYD

Denise, the shy doctor at Alexandria, was an endearing character, coming out of shell and starting to adapt to the new world... thanks in part to her budding romance with Tara.  However, it wasn't to be, and Daryl witnessed Denise get shot in the eye, with his crossbow, used by Dwight.  Actress Merritt Weaver only appeared in season six of the series.

NOAH

Played by Tyler James Williams, Noah was another likable character that got a raw deal.  He was an ally to Beth during her ordeal at the hospital in season five, but sadly his time in Alexandria was shortlived, as - thanks to Nicholas' cowardice, he was left to die at the hands of a bunch of walkers, much to the distress of Glenn, who witnessed his death.

HERSHEL GREENE

As a viewer, Hershel's death was the first to affect me.  I still see it in my nightmares, dammit!  Hershel, whilst introduced as a grumpy old man in season two, he became a father figure to the group, a trusted advisor to Rick, who he was trying to lead to life of peace.  Despite losing his farm, most of his family, and his leg, he saw a future.  Sadly, that future didn't include him, as when the Governor attacked the prison, he decapitated poor Hershel.  I still miss Scott Wilson from the cast.

GLENN RHEE

Ah, Glenn.  My personal favourite character from the entire TWD.  An original cast member, we saw him grow from boy to man, as he stepped up and became one of the most important people in the group, with his romance with Maggie Greene a staple for the series.  It all ended in the season six finale and the season seven opener though... as the gang met Negan, and sadly Lucille - the barbed bat - found it's way onto Glenn's skull.  As his head was crushed, so were the audience, as poor Maggie was left pregnant and alone.  After six seasons on the show, we still feel his death everytime we see Maggie on screen.  Steven Yeun played the part, and we miss him. 

Wow, there really are some big hitters in this batch.  It's a tough one to call.    I'm going to take a stab and say the two finalists will be Daryl and Glenn.... but I've been wrong before (I had Maggie as the winner of batch#1, but Alicia Clark won instead. Who knew? not me!).

16 characters, but only 8 can make it to the next round... and that's up to you.  Head over to twitter, add procrastinalien, and get voting!  You've got three days! 

[xiuhunsoo]

got tagged by @ilovkji to answer 85 questions about myself! thank you love! 

idk who to tag tho, i feel like i’m gonna annoy people :(((

last

1. drink – lemon iced tea

2. phone call – my dad today

3. text message – uh one of my best friends

4. song you listened to – f(x) ft zico - traveller

5. time you cried – sunday when i watched along with the gods with tawa

ever

6. dated someone twice? - haven’t even dated anyone once so no

7. kissed someone and regretted it – no

8. been cheated on – still no and if anyone ever does they have another thing coming

9. lost someone special – yes

10. been depressed – idk i never got it diagnosed with it but looking back on things i probably was for a while, i’m not anymore though only have some other mental shit going on 

11. gotten drunk and thrown up – nah, i stop before it comes to that point

fave colours

12. any shade of blue

13. dark red

14. dark green

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends – yes

16. fallen out of love – no

17. laughed until you cried – lmao 10 times already just this week

18. found out someone was talking about you – yes both in good and bad ways

19. met someone who changed you - oh yes

20. found out who your friends are - YEAH LMAO

21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list – no

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl – all of them except one nobody really uses facebook anymore so i never really added my internet friends and i never added strangers

23. do you have any pets – no :(((( 

24. do you want to change your name – no

25. what did you do for your last birthday – uhhhhh ohh i met three friends and we went to explore the city and got lunch together and then one of my best friends surprised me at home with presents and decorated it was really cute and we went for cocktails!

26. what time did you wake up today – considering i slept like 1-2 hours today and it didn’t feel like i slept at all idk when exactly i woke up

27. what were you doing at midnight last night - was on tumblr, was chatting with rina and was trying to write that luchen drabble for her

28. what is something you can’t wait for – the zoo trip on saturday, my bulgaria holidays in two weeks and netherlands trip with my dad and berlin + music bank in september!

30. what are you listening to right now – nothing, i feel like just listening to the city’s sounds outside my window rn

31. have you ever talked to a person named tom - not consciously no? maybe someone i only got briefly introduced to was named that, maybe that bf of a friend’s friend?????? i can’t remember

32. something that gets on your nerves – my dad filing his nails for HOURS on end (ok it’s minutes but sometimes he does it multiple times in an hour and it just.......why)

33. most visited website – tumblr lol

34. hair color – blue!

35. long or short hair – on myself? it’s chin length and sometimes a bit shorter

36. do you have a crush on someone – only if celebrities count, i don’t develop crushes easily and i only ever really had one, are feelings even real

37. what do you like about yourself – my hair! and my ability to make my friends feel loved and cherished!

38. want any piercings? – since i’m allergic to any earrings i never entertained the idea anymore so no

39. blood type – fuck if i know

40. nicknames – anna is already a nickname i suppose

41. relationship status – sehun is my husband idk what to tell you here

42. zodiac - taurus sun, sag moon, cancer rising

43. pronouns - she/her

44. fave tv shows – exo showtime, free! & yuri on ice, doctor who season 1-4, supernatural 1-3, some kdramas, idk my mind is blanking here

45. tattoos – none and idk if i’m ever gonna be committed enough for them, i love seeing others have or get them though!

46. right or left handed - right handed

47. ever had surgery - yeah but only a light one

48. piercings – used to have my ears pierced but i became allergic

49. sport – used to be in a swim club for 10 yrs and did zumba and step aerobic afterwards oh and i went to horseback riding lessons for a while

50. vacation – yeah i do that a lot lmao and want to do it a whole lot more

51. trainers – do converse count and i have iron man vans

more general

52. eating – idk i love different cuisines esp korean, pasta, cookies and desserts in general

53. drinking – tea and coffee and wine and raspberry mojitos keep me going

54. i’m about to watch – i feel like rewatching all my classics like hp, star wars and lotr

55. waiting for – saturday and my trips to bulgaria/netherlands/berlin

56. want – my exo lightstick to arrive on time for music bank 😬

57. get married - if my partner wants it? but i have no real aspirations for it myself? i never actively think about it at least

58. career – idfk i’m studying asian studies but i guess i’d need something economics like to get somewhere with that for my masters

which is better

59. hugs or kisses – hugs

60. lips or eyes - eyes

61. shorter or taller - i really don’t care but it’s hard to be shorter than me

62. older or younger - depends on the age gap lol

63. nice arms or stomach – arms.......but tummies...........idk i lov both

64. hookup or relationship – relationship

65. troublemaker or hesitant – hesitant

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger – no

67. drank hard liquor – yeah

68. lost glasses – no, though i forgot them once in my host family in china but they sent them via post to the hotel we stayed in next

69. turned someone down – yes 

70. sex on first date – idfk i’d lean towards no though..........

71. broken someone’s heart – yeah probably

72. had your heart broken – no

73. been arrested - no

74. cried when someone died - yeah

75. fallen for a friend - no

do you believe in

76. yourself – sometimes

77. miracles – not really

78. love at first sight – no, attraction at first yes but you cannot love someone that fast

79. santa claus – used to but i caught my mum in the act lol

80. kiss on a first date – yeah why not

81. angels – only if we count sehun as one

other

82. best friend’s name – rina 💖

83. eye color – blue, though it’s more turquoise i guess

84. fave movie – so many, i’m a slut for iron man tho ngl

85. fave actor – is it too cliché for me to say do kyungsoo also rdj and a bunch of others

[the-whims-of-fate]

To Help An Overworked Master

• It began after the Okeanos Singularity. The Demon Pillar had almost wiped your team completely and your concern over the current state of affairs was obvious.

• As a result, you began tirelessly working and training to strengthen your Servants, constantly going out to gather materials and experience. And it had begun to take its toll.

• Mash was the first to notice. She voiced her concern to Dr. Roman and several other of the Servants, but everyone wrote it off as that overprotectiveness she was famous for.

• After a while though, Jeanne and Nightingale began to take note of your constant tiredness. It wasn’t long afterward that all of the Servants began to feel a change in the mana that was being supplied.

• This couldn’t continue. Something had to be done, and Dr. Roman had an idea of what that something was...

...

• After several hours of careful planning, everyone waited for you to fall asleep. When they finally had, the plan was put into motion.

• Many Servants were sent across many eras to gather the necessary supplies and ingredients while those that remained set to work making the rest of the preparations.

• Everyone was both surprised and relieved that you had managed to stay asleep while they were at work. Medea and Gilles De Rais had even volunteered to monitor the room via crystal ball, but it proved unnecessary. (Dr. Roman may or may not have secretly put a sleep aid in your last meal, but he’d never admit it if you asked him)

...

• Everything had already been prepared by the time you had finally woken up the next morning. Mash immediately led you to the dining hall despite your confused protests.

• Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw.

• To call the sight before you a party would be an insult. Countless balloons and other varieties of decorations littered the dining hall. There were even a couple jack-o-lanterns and Christmas trees among the decorations, almost as if they just grabbed all the decorations that they had, regardless of season.

• Archer Emiya had led several of the Servants in preparing rows of tables of food. Each was set with dishes from every era, including many of your favorites.

• Elizabeth was furious when Dr. Roman vetoed her request to hold a concert. They were finally able to calm her down after convincing her that “a concert wouldn’t fit the mood that they wanted to set.” Instead, Marie convinced Mozart to play a couple songs towards the beginning of the event (he sort of lost interest after a while and decided to join in the festivities instead).

• You were at a loss for words for a while, but after noticing the petting zoo (complete with Lion Cubs provided by Nero), you had to ask why all of this had been prepared.

• “You’ve been running yourself ragged for weeks now.” Dr. Roman replied. “If you had kept this up any longer your hair would’ve turned so white from the stress that the Emiyas would’ve accepted you as one of their own.”

• “Hey!!!” A disgruntled Archer Emiya shouted from the kitchen followed by a snicker from an amused Cu somewhere in the room.

• “Anyways...” the Doctor continued, “you need to take a break, so relax, destress, and just have fun. I have to help Da Vinci with one more thing quick before I join you guys.”

• “Well, Dr. Roman really knows how to take a break” you thought to yourself as you joined in the party.

...

• After a couple hours of food, fun, surprise hugs, and other general shenanigans, Dr. Roman returned, announcing that “Phase 2 was ready.”

• Unsure (and honestly, a little scared) of what that meant, you and several others followed him down the hall towards one of the unoccupied rooms. With a flourish and a dramatic “Ta-da!!!” from the doctor, the door was opened.

• All of the furniture, minus the TV and such, were replaced by three layers of mattresses Tetris-ed across the entire floorspace. On top of those were an equally thick layer of blankets and pillows stretched semi-evenly across the mattresses.

• You were so taken aback by the sight before you that you almost didn’t notice Iskandar drape his cloak over your shoulders, a gesture which was soon followed by him tossing you into the blanket nest with a hearty laugh.

• “I’ve connected the TV to my Netflix account,” Dr. Roman yelled over the Servants who had begun to crawl their way into the blankets. “I’ll work something out if you want to watch something that isn’t on there, but in the meantime, watch whatever you want. It’s your day, after all.”

• After tossing you the remote and promising to get snacks, the doctor left. By the time he returned, the group had turned into a massive cuddle pile within the layers of blankets as you all watched Netflix.

• You don’t know how much time had passed, but you knew you wouldn’t trade the time spent for anything.

...

• As the night grew late, the Servants slowly left until you were the only one in the now dim room, nestled comfortably under the blankets with Iskandar’s cloak draped on top of you like a bedsheet.

• There was a quiet knock on the door before it slowly opened, but you were too tired by now to look and see who was there. A few seconds later, you could see that Scheherazade had made her way to your side, a scroll in one hand and a finger to her lips as she motioned for you to remain silent. With a small smile, she turned off the TV and began reading one of her stories from the scroll.

• It wasn’t a long story, but you found yourself on the edge of falling asleep to it regardless. Noticing this, she closed her scroll and set it to the side. “Goodnight, my master” she said softly as you closed your eyes, finally drifting into a much needed slumber. You could’ve sworn you felt a light kiss on your forehead, but it might’ve just been part of a dream.

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

Hey guys. Hope you enjoyed this little drabble of mine. I thought it might be appropriate given how close many of you are to finals (myself included). As a result, I tried to keep this as open as possible so you can sort of insert whichever Servants you wanted into the story.

Hope you have a great next couple of days and an even better end of the semester.

[thornstocutyouwith]

Name: Diadumenianus Žarko Sinclair Yevgraf Colobert Friduhelm Eirenaios Valentin Wilhelm Kester  

Meaning of Name: Diadumenianus: wearing a diadem, Žarko: ember/zeal/fervor, Sinclair: pure/renowned/illustrious, Yevgraf: well-written, Colobert: Cool/Bright, Friduhelm: peace helmet,  Eirenaios: peace/tranquility/harmony,  Valentin: strong/healthy, Wilhelm: 'will' 'desire' + helm 'helmet' 'protection', Kester: one who carries Christ  

Nickname(s)/Formalities/Alias: Dia, Wil, Val, Sinclair, Cole, Kes, Mr.Kester

Age: 39

Birthday: September 28

Nationality: European, Greek, Latvian, American,

Accent: Yes

Language spoken: English, Swedish

Powers:

Unknown

Weaknesses/Illness/Allergies: Type 1 diabetes, Moderate anemia, Mold allergy,

Pets:  Ball Python (Preston, Male), German Shepherd (Sushi, Male), Boston  Terrier (Crunch Berry, Male), Bearded Dragon (Brat, Female),  California Kingsnake  (Medusa, Female), Pet Piglet (Male, Master),

Occupation: Owns Zoo

Faceclaim: Cillian Murphy

Description:

Outfit/Accessories/Jewelry:

Height: 5′ 7″

Weight: 129

Body Build: Lean

Backstory/Background:

Past

The story of  Diadumenianus begins some years before his birth. When his father, Leslie born in Europe, had taken up a particular job, all the way in Greece. Where he would meet Theokleia a woman around his age who had worked with a museum in the area. Leslie had fallen head over heels for this woman. Soon the pair would be married and having their first child,  Diadumenianus. It was around this time that the Kester family also had fallen on hard times with Leslie losing his job in Greece. With this the expecting parents moved to Sweden where they had struggled to maintain work.

Growing up impoverished and sickly, being diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at around eight years old or so, Diadumenianus’ illness had caused his parents even more money troubles for their sons medical bills. Diadumenianus did manage to have a normal childhood despite these less than ideal beginning. He took an interest in animals and other such creatures early on, and would spend much of his childhood begging for a family pet, only to be denied do to the low income.

Despite these downsides the family was very loving toward one another.  Diadumenianus got along well with his younger brother Brutus, as well as their parents. The brothers grew up to become rather close to one another. Having one another’s back. Diadumenianus diminutive stature and gentler personality at times would often make those they would meet confuse his brother, only two years younger than him, for being the older child. When the two were teenagers their parents had finally hit some good luck and moved the family from Sweden to America.

After spending a couple of years in an American high school, Diadumenianus soon graduated and set out to study zoology as well as business, as he had aspired to own a zoo one day. The problem is, finding a zoo he could buy or building one on his own. He’d spend the next few years of his life figuring that out. But after finishing school he had come to one realization on this fence. Diadumenianus would spend the next several years with his high school girlfriend, and eventual wife and children owning Zoo Miami, and nothing bad ever happened to him.

Present

Future

(Work In Progress)

Criminal History:

Petty little thefts as a teenager, but other than that Diadumenianus really isn’t much of a criminal. He is only likely these days to get a speeding or parking ticket. But back when he was a teenager, he would steal all manner of little trinkets and such that teenagers are prone to be doing in order to impress their friends. Driving underage, a few times after some peer pressure. Some pranks that weren’t as harmless as his friends might have claimed them to be. However Diadumenianus being mostly just a participant had meant he was never convicted of any crime.

Personality:

Curious, Relaxed, Educated, Exciting, Objective, Compassionate, Tough,  Competitive, Sensual, Ambitious, Formal, Mystical, Earthy, Skeptical,  Shy, Critical, Vulnerable, Crafty, Odd, Complaintive, Reactive,  Indulgent, Weak-Willed, Meddlesome, Rational, Skittish,

Quirks/Savvies/Other: Practices Christianity, 113 IQ, Knows  everything there is to know about certain animals, Likes his ice crushed  and not cubed, Blows bubbles in his drinks when he’s got a straw,  Collects porcelain dogs, Grows herbs, Polysexual,  Has a masters in animal science and doctorate in zoology, Is fairly wealthy and can afford to buy an entire zoo, Blood type: AB -

Likes: Watching television, Badminton, Football, Meditation, Eating out,  Painting, Podcasting, Meat, Banana’s, Suckers (Candy), Writing,  Sketching, Swimming, Playing card games, Zoology, Running, Music,  Cantata, Instrumental hip hop, Christian rap, Pizza, Suet pudding, Loves  animals, Pop stars, Squids, Puzzle games, Glam rock, Pigeons,

Dislikes: Hazel nuts, Bowling, Skeletons, Flower-arranging, Sailboats,  Sasquatches, Cat people, Horror novels, Horror movies, Horror in  general,

Fears: Frightened of hell, Being alone with  strangers, Fear of elevator failures, Being unable to breath,  His wife  and children dying,

Personality Tests: ISFJ-T, The Reformer (Primary), The Helper (Wing), 1w2 The Activist, The Achiever (Third), Lawful Good, Hufflepuff, Gryffinclaw, Badger Patronus, Thunderbird, Element: Water,  Right Brained, Right Handed,    Temperament:   Phlegmatic,

Other: Libra, Chinese Zodiac: Metal Rooster, Mayan Zodiac: Reed, Celtic Zodiac: Swan,  

Parent(s):

-> Father: Leslie Kester

-> Mother: Theokleia Kester  

Sibling(s): Brutus (Younger Brother, 37)

Spouse:  Rosaline

Children:  Euclides (Dia was 16, was a miscarriage, son),  Angelina (Was born when he was 19, daughter), Monica (Dia was 22, stillborn, Daughter),  Samantha  (Dia was 23, Daughter),  Priscus (Born when he was 26, son), Eoin (Dia was 31, stillborn, son), Silas and Cato (Born when he was 39, Twin sons)

Starters

Chat’s

Para’s

Face

Stuff

Information

Asks

All

                                                                              Alternate Universes

[wallpaperpainter]

The Seven Secrets That You Shouldn’t Know About Dog Painting Cartoon | Dog Painting Cartoon

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If there’s one accepted accuracy out in there in this ambagious world, it’s that dogs are appropriate creatures. Descended from the blue-blooded wolf, they’re the alone beastly on Earth that will attending you in the eye back you allocution to them, and their boundless, actual adulation is as accurate and authentic a affair as the alcove of amplitude are all-inclusive and infinitesimal.

When one peeks into a dog’s creamy soul, the mysteries of the cosmos are, if alone for a atom of a second, appear in all their majestic glory. So, in account of Pet Appreciation Week, actuality are some of the best basset assembly to anytime adroitness movies and TV.

RELATED: Officer Magnum: The Pro Wrestling Policeman (Who Is Additionally a Dog), Explained

Standing out amid the arresting casting of Isle of Dogs, the abundant Bryan Cranston lends his abrasive articulation to Chief, the accustomed baton of the scavenger dogs of Trash Island. A devious agnostic of actuality angry bottomward to a animal master, Chief’s acerb affection boring opens up as he befriends Atari, a adolescent boy who campaign to Trash Island in chase of his dog, Spots. Wes Anderson’s adulation letter to man’s best acquaintance affably captures the breakable band amid bodies and their dogs, and Chief’s anecdotal adventure is acceptable as abutting as we’ll get to compassionate the cerebral complication of our

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