awfully-sadistic

[awfully-sadistic]

The New Adventures of Dottie and Dodger (and now, Armand!): Supernatural Investigations

I really need to shorten the title.... maybe.

“Do we just sit here and do nothing?”

Dot was seated in her swivel chair with her head tilted all the way back so that she stared at the ceiling. The Pen had been quiet since their discussion about the recent string of disappearances and kidnappings they’ve discovered couldn’t be a coincidence. It’s been a long afternoon without any time having moved at all. That’s how it felt having received the “ransom” note a few minutes ago.

“Armand is missing and there’s no other instructions for that letter. What kind of joke is this?” she asked, finally heaving herself up to an upright sitting position. She just groaned and laid herself out on her desk, arms folded under her head, staring at Dodger. The young man had been busying himself in D.I.D., perhaps doing something that could help them. Despite his concentration, he answered her with all the indications that he had been listening to her all along.

“If it is, it’s not a very good one,” Dodger tried to comfort in his own clumsy way. The man was not too good at expressing much emotion which was perhaps why he worked so well with an empath like Dot and the emotion he did show was always directed towards her and her well being. And now, he was finding himself worried about the ghost that attached himself to their lives. Like a little brother he felt responsible for, a feeling of affection for someone he had not known for very long. It was a strange little itch to Dodger that all of his family was not complete, not until they were able to ascertain Armand’s whereabouts. “Perhaps we should consult the authorities.”

No sooner had he said that, Dot’s face contorted into distaste. Dodger at once realized that what he had said was indeed the dumbest thing his smart mind could have brought up. The police department of their town of Ashbourne was in the pocket of the Agency; he knew this considering the Agency was government sanctioned, but it was such a knee-jerk reaction and what he would have told another person--a stranger--to do. It didn’t apply to them and there was no way, even if he did believe in those words, that Dot would allow the local law enforcement to have anything to do with them.

“Apologies, I’m… just puzzled. I have no idea where to start. That was a bad idea.” Dodger sighed and he finally placed his tablet down to face Dot with a sincere expression. “Of course we should be investigating this ourselves otherwise, what are we doing in this profession?”

Dot’s expression softened and she nodded, “Silly man. I know you’re stressed. You may not show it but your emotions leak out more often than you think.”

Dodger looked surprised, “Really? Five years with you and it still surprises me when you tell me things like that, like you’re not an empath.” He chuckles then, “and don’t worry, I’ve sent a message to Doctor Strange and Director Fury about what’s happening. They might have some insight we’re missing.”

“Ahhh, why didn’t I think about that?” Dot nearly smacked her forehead in the revelation. “Nothing so far?”

“I sent the message merely two minutes--”

Dodger didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when the backroom to their artifact room opened and Stephen Strange walked into the Pen. He looked worried, gazing around the huge room filled with empty cubicles until he landed on the only two occupants.

“Oh thank god, you’re okay. I thought something had happened to you,” Stephen’s worried tone shifting into relief puzzled Dot as she glanced over at Dodger in confusion as the Doctor moved to stand in front of her. His hands moved more than his cape did in inspection, lifting her arms, moving her head by the gentle grip he held on her chin before Stephen looked over his shoulder to give Dodger a look of censure. “You could have left me more than a message about a mysterious ransom note and no context.”

Dodger shrugged, looking amused at the interaction between Dot and Stephen before meeting his gaze. “It was not my intention to cause any misunderstandings.”

“What kind of message did you send?” Dot asked, still wide-eyed at Stephen’s strange behavior. He was still hovering like a worried momma looking after a chick.

Dodger picked up his tablet again to read, “S.O.S., received ransom note. Softest member abducted. Need more info.”

Dot could have laughed in amazement; she forgot that Dodger sends weird text messages that are no-nonsense and definitely get to the point. Then, she glanced over at Stephen, “Wait, did you think I was the one who was kidnapped?”

“Who else is the soft one?” Stephen asked, perplexed. It seemed, in his mind, there was no one else that fit the criteria. Dot wasn’t offended but she was surprised to understand what Stephen thought of her--it was endearing in a way. She laughed again, softly, placing a hand over Stephen’s in order to hopefully soothe the panic he had to experience to rush here in a hurry. Upon closer inspection, she could see that his hair looked wind-tousled and his collar looked a little disheveled. He must have rushed here as soon as he had gotten Dodger’s weird text.

“Armand…” Dot revealed, trying to quell her smile. It made me feel good that Stephen was so worried but she did feel bad he worried over nothing--well, Armand was still missing so that wasn’t nothing, things were still not right. She grew somber again as she turned in her seat and handed him the dumbest ransom note they had ever received in their life. “This is what we need help with. Armand’s missing and honestly, I have no idea what to think about this.”

Stephen blinked, nodding in comprehension as the information settled upon him. He was relieved immensely that Dot had not been the one that was kidnapped but it was still worrying that Armand HAD disappeared. He reached for what she was giving him, pausing as he read the contents. His expression shifted almost immediately, the two had noticed. Dodger shifted in his seat, interested, and Dot felt a surge of hope.

“But… you do…” Dodger voiced out loud.

“Aye. Unfortunately, I do.” He looked grim, switching his gaze between the two. “Spider-Man had disappeared and when we investigated, we were very much faced with the same odd ransom note as a clue.”

Word Count: 1084

#{{ Original Drabbles: Dot Dodger Armand Investigations

[awfully-sadistic]

The New Adventures of Dottie and Dodger (and now, Armand!): Supernatural Investigations

It's been a while since I brought these guys out. I thought that... I created this world so I wanted to do something with it and I just love mystery and adventure and really enjoyed writing in this world. Why not bring it back up since that's what I feel the most inspiration towards? So, I'm going to try to make this a mini-series now.

“This ransom note has a lot of spelling mistakes.” Dodger muttered as if speaking to himself. Two other people aside from him stood in the room and if they hadn’t been used to Dodger making observations out loud, they would have also assumed he was talking to himself. But he was very much adding observations for his two companions as well; Dot and Armand. They were in the very first stages of their investigation. So early that they had just gotten the job not even five minutes old and anything at this point would be helpful.

Evi, the capable secretary for the newly re-vamped Dottie and Dodger: Supernatural Investigations, newly revamped meaning coming back from a short Hiatus while the world had been ending and then picking right back up as if it hadn’t happened, had been the one responsible for dropping a strange manilla envelope onto their laps.

Well, technically, it was settled on Dot’s desks with the utmost care as well as a cup of coffee and a snack before Evi left to sit up front doing… well, whatever secretaries for secret human and supernatural affair agents do. It was there that Dodger had picked it up as soon as Dot had exclaimed “I don’t know what the hell this is, I don’t want to do it, it’s only Monday!” and began to peruse the contents.

It turned out it was a ransom note. Apparently.

“Why are we picking up ransom notes?” Dot asked, trying to lengthen her height by standing on her tippy-toes to even get a glimpse over Dodger’s shoulder. “Isn’t this something for regular cops to do?” She had been very comfortable at her desk until Dodger piqued her interest with what he said. At least five heads taller than her, she had a hard time trying to see anything other than his broad back. She should have made him sit down. But Dodger seemed to read her mind and half-way turned his body to offer her a perusal of her own. He handed her the file and read over shoulder instead.

“You’re right, we usually don’t pick up ransom notes--in fact, I think this may be the first one. However, the content is what we specialize in, have you finished reading it?”

“No, I’m too distracted by whoever thought your name was spelled D-O-G-J-E-R. I’m so glad my name is three letters--there was no way they could have messed that one up. No, wait, I stand corrected. They misspelled “you” and this is all handwritten. It’s not like it’s a typo.”

“But the content, dear…”

Dot cleared her throat, “Dogjer and Dot. I have your ghost. If yuh ever want to see him ever again, BRING ONE MULLIEN DOLLERS.” After reading the note, she paused and looked around, searching the entirety of the office they had been standing in. “Shit, why haven’t I seen Armand since coming in this morning?”

“To be honest, I thought he spent the night at your house again.”

Ever since Dot and Dodger found the anchor that kept Armand to this world, the grandfather clock, they had enlisted Stephen’s help to ensure that Armand had the means to travel between the Sanctum rooms. The clock had been broken into a few pieces that allowed Armand to follow Dot home and to move with Dot as she held a piece of the anchor with her at all times. She had no idea where Armand when he wasn’t around and she had never thought to ask--considering that Armand always made himself known when Dot was around, she didn’t think of it. But it was an odd afternoon she found when Armand wasn’t around.

“He usually does come home with me,” Dot replied, glancing back over to Dodger now. “Except for last night, he wanted to stay and record for D.A.D., kind of like how we fill out the reports after every mission.”

“We told him he didn’t have to do that.” Dodger interjected.

Dot laughed, “I know, but he wanted to and well, if it makes him feel like he’s one of us, he’s more than welcome to do anything he wants. I assumed he’d be coming home after he had finished but I fell asleep and thought he was already at the office when I woke up since no one was home.” Sighing, Dot looked over the “ransom” note once more, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and confusion. “I don’t understand… How can anyone kidnap a ghost? What does this all mean?”

“It could be connected to the headline I read a few days ago.”

Looking over at Dodger, he seemed to be rummaging through his own desk looking for something; usually so neat, his desk was filled with loose papers and folders. When he finally found it, he put down a newspaper on top of Dot’s desk. “This.”

“This what?” Dot asked, taking a look herself. Ripped from the headlines itself in big scrawling black letters read: KIDNAPPING AND MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES SPIKE TO ALL-TIME HIGH.

“Ugh, what the hell?” Dot asked again, taking a closer look at the article. After the world ending event and the merge of the two worlds, Stephen’s and theirs, the world has not quite yet recovered. It’s been a mere six months since the Event, and Dot and Dodger with Armand have been working non-stop with trying to contain the fallout in whatever way they could to help the Supernatural and human population ease with a better transition. What spills over into their world has been sometimes due to Universe 616 and vice versa. Overall, it was an entire mess and everyone around the world still didn’t know what to make of it.

“I thought we were picking up more disappearances than usual in the six months we’ve been back.” Dodger clarified, “it seems the rest of the city also agrees. The article states there has been an influx of kidnapping and disappearances and my guess is that Supernaturals are caught up in it as well; after all, it explains why we’ve been working a bunch of disappearances.. Furthermore, all the disappearances and kidnappings are seemingly unrelated… but that may just mean they, whomever they may be, hadn’t found the connection yet.”

“Do you think… this is what happened to Armand? He’s just another victim of what’s been going on? How common is this? I’m sure there’s been a lot of missing people since the Event--”

“Armand’s ...kidnappers left a ransom note just asking for money but they didn’t give us anything other than that. No location for the drop off and not even if they will get back to us. It might not be a simple kidnapping despite the atrocious spelling.”

Dot pursed her lips, almost feeling the need to crumple the ransom note in her hand. But it was evidence and she put it back down on her desk, taking a deep breath. “The spelling just makes the entire thing seem like a joke. What’s going on.”

“I don’t know but that’s why we’re going to get to the bottom of it.”

Obviously, this continues.

Word Count: 1181

#{{ Original Drabbles: Dot Dodger Armand Investigations

[awfully-sadistic]

Inspiration

Sometimes you just need someone to help you brainstorm.

"What are you up to?" Satan asked. As if appearing out of thin air, the tall and imposing figure of the Demon Avatar of Wrath ducked his blond head downwards, pausing at Dot's shoulder where he peered at the bright screen of her laptop. When he had entered the room, it was quiet and still and the only person who had been occupying it was Dot. As soon as he spotted her, his original destination had been forgotten and he had decided a detour to his favorite person was in order. Dot had been seated in her plush armchair behind her desk, and seemingly had been concentrating on something, enough so that she hadn't noticed his presence. He had been tempted to watch her for a while but the need for Dot's attention lavished upon him outweighed the decision of voyeurism.

Dot jumped, looking over her shoulder with a startled expression, wide-eyed and mouth open before it twisted into a smile. "Hey baby," she greeted, resting her head against his. "I'm just trying to write."

Satan made a thoughtful noise at the back of his throat; a hum-like noise as his eyes perused her laptop screen. It was opened to a Word document, but there didn't seem to be anything but a blinking cursor. "Are you having a hard time?"

"Sort of," she replied, straightening back up. Her hands fiddled against the keyboard in a nervous gesture, or perhaps it was restless anxiety. Satan's hand was warm when he placed it over hers, lifting it up to guide it to his mouth where he planted comforting kisses on the tip of her fingers as light as a butterfly's wing.

"Did you need a break?" he suggested, wondering if Dot had been here the entire time just struggling on a starting line.

"Oh no, honey, I've been sitting here long enough, it feels like a break."

It verified his guess and he sighed, gently patting Dot on the shoulder to encourage her to stand up. She was a little confused on what he may have wanted, but she stood up and Satan sat in her armchair, pulling her into his lap as soon as he was seated. She gasped in surprise, falling into her new seat before settling in comfortably as it dawned on her what Satan had wanted.

"Let me help you," he said, after they had been adjusted. His large hands squeezed her shoulders, running down her arms to rest on her hips, "perhaps you need some ...stimulation."

Dot's mind immediately went into the gutter since Satan didn't elaborate further than that. It didn't help that she was already seated in his lap and his strong fingers were kneading into her soft flesh. Satan grinned as he allowed the silence that settled over them help drive that innuendo home. She jumped when she felt his mouth on her neck, pressing gentle kisses there. "I've found that reading quite stimulates the creativity juices."

"..." She pauses before smiling, shaking her head and reaches up to flick Satan's forehead right between those parted blond bangs. "You're such a tease."

Satan chuckled lowly, giving her cheek a nuzzle. "And that's what you like about me, right?"

Dot laughed again, "I hope you're not watching Letterkenny without me."

"Of course not, sweetheart." Despite humans not holding much of an interest for him and he could care less about what they invent, Satan has a soft spot for what Dot was interested in. It helped that Dot wasn't human herself yet what she found interesting, he couldn't help but find it interesting as well. "Let's re-watch the series after you finish doing what you're doing here."

"I don't even know what I want to write," she laughed. "Where are these creative juices you were talking about earlier? I don't know them."

"Well, if you did, I think I'd get jealous."

Dot laughed again, "You're being silly."

"Believe me, sweetheart, I'm entirely serious." Satan was touchy with Dot, moreso when she was settled all nice and pretty on his lap. "I'm a very jealous person."

"Well, don't worry. Inspiration has left me like some cheap date on the side of the road. You're my knight in shining armor, so can you help me?"

"Of course, my dear." Satan played along, his hand now busied with playing in Dot's hair. "So, let's see. I'm going to assume you've tried looking up prompts."

"Mmm." Dot agreed with a nod.

"And that didn't help you?"

"Not in the way I'd hoped. Maybe it's because I've heard all these words before or maybe it's because I'm not feeling anything when I'm reading them. Nothing's sticking out to me and it's ....it's just nothing." Dot pouted, feeling frustrated all over again. Satan soon soothed the feeling away by petting her head and pressing a kiss to her temple.

"It's alright, sweetheart. It's going to be harder if you're dealing with writer's block, right? Perhaps instead of reading the words yourself, I can read them to you. It's kind of like tickling yourself, you don't feel anything because you're doing it to yourself but as soon as someone else's hands land on you, it's a lot more potent, isn't it?"

To demonstrate his point, he gently tickled at Dot's sides and she squirmed in his lap, trying not to laugh.

"Satan," she warned as her hands landed on his, gripping around his fingers so he'd let up on his feather-like gestures. "Tickling me isn't going to help."

"It's helping me."

Dot giggled, and breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped. "Okay, I get your point. So which words were you going to use?"

"Hmm," he moved his hand onto Dot's mouse and clicked open the browser sitting idle on her taskbar. A website appeared, presenting prompts she had been previously studying. "How about this word?"

Dot glanced over to where he had directed the mouse. "Love?"

Satan smiled, guiding his hand to her chin to make him face her. "Yes, such as I love you. I will always love you and there will never be another I love as much as I love you."

Dot smiled warmly knowing Satan meant those words in more than just a way to merely help her overcome her block.

"Or this word, beautiful. You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life. Your eyes are beautiful, your nose is beautiful. Your lips are beautiful. Even the way you frown is beautiful."

Dot laughed, "Come on, stop it."

"Perhaps this word, adore. I adore you, to the moon and back. I adore you more than my brothers. I adore you more than cats and my books."

"Satan..."

"Or Lies. I'm not spouting any lies to you. There's no way I could look at you and lie about how I feel. Hide. I can't hide it either. Obsessed. You make me feel obsessed with you. Possessed. I'm not like myself when I'm with you either. It can only be described as possessed. Possession. Now, that's a nice word. I wish I could lock you up in my room and just keep you there, a possession like my books."

Dot didn't know where she could hide as Satan just kept reading the words, ironically the romantic prompt words she had been trying so hard to work with. Now, it seemed like she couldn't concentrate for another reason.

Satan laughed lowly, the gesture so deep it had rumbled in his chest and against Dot's back. She dropped her hands from when she had, in vain, tried to cover her face from Satan's "onslaught" of romantic words he had now dedicated to her.

"Did you still need my help?"

"N-No, you've done enough."

"Are you sure? I haven't gotten to the real good words, at the bottom here. Like, Need. Bite. Massage. Caught. ...Breeding."

"Ah ah ah! Those are... the advanced ones. We can do those later," Dot put nervously, now guiding Satan's hand to drop the window he had been reading. "I don't think I'm ready for those yet."

"Hmm, perhaps you'll need demonstrations if my word association didn't help."

"I didn't say you didn't help!!"

Satan laughed, "So I did?"

"Of course you did. I just... don't feel like writing anymore. Maybe I could use that break like you suggested earlier."

"Oh?" Satan's laugh had simmered into a smile. A predatory smile that looked more like a smirk which never lifted off his face, "I'm certain you've got an idea of what you want to do in that pretty little head of yours."

Word count: 1427

#{{ Fandoms: 1K

[awfully-sadistic]

Visit

1K write everyday.

"So...."

Sylvaintel's voice came clear over the linkpearl so suddenly that it startled Sione after having been immersed in silence for a little more over half an hour. The only thing that had been accompanying him were the sounds of the harsh cold frost winds of Coerthas and the sound of Laboon singing songs into the sky as soon as Sione had finished a task and went well out of his way for another.

Big Surprise that all he wanted was to pass through the town to get into Ishgard, however, how could he say no to Haurchefant earnestly asking him for a couple of favors while he was there? There was a soft spot for the Elezen noble considering that everytime Sione met him, Haurchefant always had something a little too nice to say and was perhaps a bit more touchy than the others Sione had come to call friend. And it wasn't as if Sione could turn down the request because he'd happily help any of his own should they need it and according to Haurchefant, his help was indeed needed--patrols were getting overwhelmed from the Dravanian threat and it would do some good to have someone of Sione's caliber to help them out by thinning the herd. Some patrols were even lost and in the harsh cold snowy climate of Coerthas, being out there for too long could very well be a death sentence. Sione didn't want Haurchefant to lose any more men considering that it'd put more of a workload on the knight so he agreed that 1) he'd find the patrols and help thin the hostile groups that were encroaching on their territory and 2) bring home some wild game so that the troops could eat.

That was how Sione found himself bundled up on Laboon, riding high overhead the many wild creatures that make Coerthas its home when Sylvaintel decided to make his presence known.

"You act like I don't see you every time I come over." Sione replied, a faint smile gracing his dark features even as a shiver ran down his spine due to the harsh wind that suddenly overtook him. He pulled his blanket tighter, burying his chin against the soft fabric. Flying is great, until you get somewhere awfully cold. But it still beats the heat especially around the Sagoli desert.

"It's not that you don't... you're right, yes, but you could come over first." Sylvaintel teased even as he continued, "It would also get you away from doing chores for everyone as soon as you set foot into the land."

"I'm not doing chores..." Sione muttered, half his face covered by his blanket. "Haurchefant needed the help and I doubt he's going to send me all over the place to do HIS job."

"No no, of course not. He wouldn't have had that thought at all, Haurchefant is such a simpleton for you, it's honestly kind of sad."

"Wha--why is it sad?"

"Because all of that worshipping and he still didn't secure the first place in your heart."

"Okay, but neither did you. We all know that's reserved for Felina."

"Augh, you wound me. I thought I would have proved my worth by now, but no, you're right. Don't let her catch wind of any competition to be your number one otherwise I don't have to worry about being out of a job--rather, my life will be in danger."

"I won't stop her either."

"Sione, we are handsome buddies and we could be more if only you would accept; handsome husbands, eh? But I suppose it does not matter because sooner or later, it'll happen. We are connected by the red string of handsomeness. You must come to my defense as the same I come to yours whenever you need it." Sylvaintel sounded serious and he probably was considering that he invented this bond as soon as the thought popped into his head. It was perhaps meant to be taken as a joke at first, but now he proudly exclaims it in all seriousness that there was no convincing him otherwise. Thus, he always gives Sione "trouble" when the Warrior of Light steps into Coerthas and Sylvaintel always knows.

It wasn't anything as mystical as a sixth sense that would give him some magical tingle whenever Sione was close, though if one were to ask, that is exactly how he would put it. It is simply for the fact that Sylvaintel never shuts up. He's always occupying a free space in Sione's ear, emitting through the Linkshell.

"I never said that I wouldn't defend you. It just depends on you upsetting my wife then you're on your own." Sione chuckled at the long and dramatic sigh Sylvaintel heaved on the other end.

"So, how long do you have here anyway? You're passing through again to Ishgard?"

"That's the plan and it won't be too long. I still have the wild game I should procure for you hungry boys. I don't mind feeding you."

"You're such an angel!" Sylvaintel was sighing for another reason now. Everyone knew that 90% of the meat that passes through the kitchen and is circulated throughout Coerthas comes from Sione and his need to take care of everyone that mattered to him and since they mattered to Haurchefant, it mattered to him. Granted, Coerthas could have done a better job--a much better job--of receiving the Warrior of Light, Sione couldn't very well say no to their efforts now. Everyone is always happy to see Sione, and since his initial run through Coerthas to make it a better place either dispatching Dravanians or getting rid of an impostor, his reception here is a lot more warmer--on fire even--compared to when he and his wife first arrived.

"It is how you say..." Sylvaintel continued, "everyone is simps. That is what you say, yes?"

Sione laughed, "Yes, that's what I say."

"It is because you are such a good person, helping us even when everyone treated you as an outsider. See, an angel. You are like an angel, especially when you fly over on Laboon--Oh, wait, I hear him now! Are you here? Oh my god, are you here?"

Sione was already stepping through the front door of the warm cabin Sylvaintel occupied, turning off his Linkshell. About the only time he ever has it off. "Of course I'm here, I can't leave without visiting you. I'll never hear the end of it."

Word count: 1075

#{{ Fandoms: 1K

[awfully-sadistic]

Fandom Master Post

Title: Fandoms 1K Rating: NR - Not yet. Need to know where this is heading. Category: Fandoms Warnings: None, so far. Summary: Not too much, not too little? Just WRITE. HAHA. Yeah. 1K word limit, sometimes hit it. Sometimes over. But it has to be 1K words. Making Amends // Visit // Inspiration //

#{{ Fandom Master Post

[awfully-sadistic]

Making Amends

Uh, it's been a while.

He could have very well done this mission by himself--a simple task consisting of a lost item somewhere around Gridania and the eng goal was to return it to its rightful owner. In fact, it was quite beneath him to carry the task out but it was simple enough for his real purpose. Well, calling it a purpose was perhaps the wrong way to put it. He solicited the famed Warrior of Light and accomplished bard, Sione Honeytongue, to embark on this silly little quest that the most novice adventure just starting out would have been able to do blindfolded. Was he nice about it? Well, he was also trying to fix that as well.

When the Luciane expressed that they were going to induct a new member into the guild, it was hard for Silvairre to put away the hardshell of discrimination and distrust he had tightly woven around him since his initial betrayal. Was that a good reason for treating the people he met and interacted with like scum under his boots? Obviously not, but he didn't care because he didn't care about anyone but himself. It was easier (and safer) that way. There was no reason anyone should try to break down his defenses because most people didn't last that long in the guild, anyway. It seemed like Leih was one step away from failing out of the guild herself despite how hard the Miqo'te tried to keep up. She would have had an easier time if Silvairre reached a hand out to help but why? There was no point and there was definitely no attachment there.

Not until Sione Honeytongue walked through the archway and it was love at first sight. Silvairre was struck stupid in the dumbest way possible--his own stupidity and ego and trust issues flared up and he said a lot of things he regretted but it was way too late to try to make amends.

Or was it?

Perhaps that was what he was trying to do now especially as he lead Sione through various buildings, weaving in and out of the various crafting guilds that made their home in old and new Gridania. After Silvairre had contacted Sione about this... lost item task... Sione had asked the essential questions needed to at least get a good idea where to start. After that, it was a dead silence as the two walked side by side looking very much like they did not want to be there.

Sione had a good reason and Silvairre knew this. He did not blame Sione for avoiding him whenever he was in town, visiting the guild. But there was nothing worse than seeing Sione getting along with everyone but him when all Silvairre wanted was Sione's attention and not anyone else's nor to share him with anyone else. That's what bugged him the most. It irritated him beyond belief to see Sione easily smile at Leih, and Silvairre could not help but trip the young miqo'te as she excitedly made her way to greet Sione at the entrance. She had made the most satisfying plop, right on her dumb-looking face when she hit the ground. Silvairre, of course, had laughed quite cruelly but clammed up as soon as Sione shot him a glare because... well, Sione was not stupid. He was sharp and observant and he wasn't one of the Guild's top archers (now Bard) for nothing. He knew that Silvairre had tripped her and made a comment about Silvairre not changing despite after everything they had gone through--even after Silvairre had told Sione that he'd ease up on Leih.

But that's what made him want to terrorize her even more. Why the hell was Sione so concerned about Leih? Before Sione came into the guild, Leih was right up his ass on learning from him. Granted, she still followed him (ironically) like a pup, but it wasn't admiration that Silvairre was looking for despite Leih still harboring something of a weird teacher/pupil dynamic with him. He did not give a damn whatsoever about Leih wanting to learn from him but as soon as it involved Sione, all of a sudden, he cared about whether she was following Sione around, asking him about how he's been, what he's been up to, and generally being a fangirl around him. It wasn't that Sione didn't deserve the praise and recognition. Silvairre can very much admit that Sione deserves all of that. But HE wanted to be the one to give it to him.

Leih was an eyesore.

So that's why he tripped her. This time. And perhaps all the other times. But Sione didn't need to know about that. At least not until he caught him again.

"What are we looking for anyway?" Sione finally asked. It didn't occur to him to ask who commissioned Silvairre for this job and he didn't want to question why he got paired with Silvairre--all the Elezen ranger had told him was that they had been assigned together (a lie, Silvairre went out of his way to enlist Sione specifically) to find something of importance (another lie, Silvairre had withheld telling Sione as long as possible what they were looking for so Sione could not refuse to work together with him).

"Does it matter?" Silvairre retorted as soon as Sione had finished. It was a reflex, and he kicked himself immediately, inwardly wincing and clearing his throat to salvage the conversation before Sione decided to just leave him there and try to find the item on his own. "...It's a thing."

Sione stopped and stared at Silvairre who continued to walk. Again, the Elezen cleared his throat.

"A teddy bear for one of the kids. Remember when you helped that dumbass teacher teach those kids the Harvest Dance? One of those kids."

"Oh!" Sione replied, brightening up with the thought of helping one of the babies around the town. "Why didn't you say so sooner! I wasn't even taking this seriously--Hey, wait, how'd you learn about that?"

Not that Silvairre would admit that he follows Sione's accomplishments, big, little, and even insignificant, he changed the subject immediately, pointing ahead, "I see the bear. You want to give it to the kid yourself?" Obviously Silvairre also knew how much Sione loved children, but then again... that was Eorzea's most open secret about Sione.

Sione dropped the subject mainly because his focus was on meeting the children again and he nodded, big grin and all, as he bent over to pick up the forgotten teddy. "You're right about this being an important item, let's hope we're not too late to cheer up the baby who lost this!"

Silvairre grunted in agreement--wholly for Sione--and just reveled in the small victory that was the success of completing this task. ...Not that he'd admit to Sione that he took the teddy bear to begin with. That was a secret he was going to take to the grave.

Word Count: 1160

SORRY, IT'S ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE 1K. I hope it's okay to go a LITTLE over. It's hard to end things.

#{{ Fandoms: 1k

[awfully-sadistic]

that’s not………. how child speech works…………………………………………..

#{{ reblogs: writing tips #{{ reblogs: references

[awfully-sadistic]

How to Start off the New Year

Just... wanted to try another format.

It’s New Years Eve and the ball had just gotten started. Glamorous people from around the globe seemingly felt an urgent call to attend tonight’s gala. It was laughable; celebrities to politicians were in attendance and you could count on a single hand just how many friends you had there.

None.

It wasn’t that the life in the mortuary business wasn’t popular. On the contrary, because you work in Gotham City, business was booming. People in town called on you to take care of... well, nearly anything to deal with the dearly (and not so) departed. From crime scenes to personal funeral services, you were up to your elbow... or perhaps even your eyes in stiffs.

“Doesn’t everything look wonderful?” you hear a tone you immediately recognize. You know the handsome man speaking to you is none other than Gotham’s most wealthy bachelor and beloved man of the century. Normally, you grin and bear it. Good boys like Bruce Wayne weren’t your cup of tea--actually, he was on the entire opposite side of the field. But for some reason, you two always end up running into each other.

Each time, he prompts a conversation.

Each time, you turn around with a polite smile on your face and whether or not, depending on what you have in your hand, you clink your flute against his and reply, “You’ve really outdone yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

“Please, call me Bruce.”

“Haha, no thanks, Mr. Wayne.”

“But I must insist. We’ve known each other for... how many years is it now, Dot?”

“Too many?” you threw out there with a teasing grin that might have hinted towards your true feelings about this playboy and his lifestyle. Yeah, that’s not the life for you and you’ve done everything you could to maintain a professional yet friendly bantering relationship with this man. After all, he does employ some of your business and recommends you to a lot of powerful people himself. For whatever purpose, you don’t give a damn. It’s business and you’ll take it especially if he wanted to put your name out there.

Yet for some reason, he’s awfully persistent. Long ago, he’s learned not to try to tempt you with jealousy by having a woman on his arm when he spoke to you, to get you to notice him like an elementary child playing games, and now he just comes up to you on his own. Perhaps he was trying another tactic with you? You laughed inwardly, locking eyes with the man.

Needless to say, he towered over you. Your eyes kept traveling up until they reached that smug smile and watched as his gaze appreciated your full figure. You were quite partial to animal print so that was what you wore; subtle, not gaudy. Elegant. Sleek. Like a prowler, not prey. It was perhaps bolder than most the white bread women and cookie cutter Stepford wives dared to wear but you liked what you liked and you loved your clothes.

“Like what you see?” you asked with a coy smile on your face. Bruce’s gaze snapped up to yours and you swore he seemed flustered. He averted his gaze and laughed, “You look stunning, Dot.”

“Thanks.” And because he seemed genuine in his compliment, you decided to throw him a bone. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

Bruce chuckled; it was a deep sound, you noticed. Almost quiet. He had to step closer to you in order to keep your guys’ conversation private. There wasn’t a need to; well, perhaps from his side but you didn’t see why. Instead, you took another sip from your flute, keeping your eyes on his from over the rim. You raised your eyebrows at him, expecting him to carry the conversation. Heaven knows you weren’t.

“So, how’s the business?”

You chuckled yourself, a feminine sound that clearly contrasted his own. “Business is good considering I work with a bunch of dead guys all day.”

You watched as Bruce’s brows furrowed and he looked like he wanted to ask you something. “Why is it that you went--”

The lights went out and the room was cast in immediate darkness. You looked around, startled by the sudden interruption. “Is it the countdown already?” you asked.

Bruce’s tone seemed a little more preoccupied, but it might have been because he was confused as well. “...No. It isn’t.” he said before gently touching your elbow and telling you, “Excuse me. I’m going to see what happened.”

You nod, feeling the slight tingling sensation of Bruce’s hand leftover from touching your skin. You cleared your throat and straightened your spine, head looking this way and that. It didn’t seem like the countdown had begun from the look on everyone else’s confused expression’s, too.

BAM!

Doors on the other end of the hall were suddenly kicked in and the people nearest to it seemed to jump... and then came the screaming.

From both sides, apparently. Screams of frightened men and women accompanied by the sound of running steps headed towards any of the other exits. Your eyes widened as you witness the men who had come in were armed and they were carrying awfully large guns.

“...Goddamn it, Gotham.” you cursed under your breath.

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE!” a booming voice took command right away, and in came the ringleader himself.

Harvey Dent, or rather known as Two-Face, strolled into the room like he had owned the place. Well, after this performance, it certainly seemed like he did. It was your first time seeing the man in person, but you knew his work. A lot of the bodies that ran through you were either his victims or any of the other nut jobs terrorizing the town. But you also knew he was odder than the other villains; sometimes he killed his victims, sometimes he didn’t. Unlike the Joker who left death and destruction everywhere he went or the Riddler that seemed to work things a particular way that either there were bodies or not in any given scheme he thinks of, Two-Face decides his decisions with... well, a coin toss.

It sounded stupid, was your first initial thought.

And then you looked at him and did your own research. Why? Why did he function the way he did? It was obvious he had a gimmick--almost everyone in Gotham did. It was fucking weird. So it didn’t surrpise you he had a whole theme going on. But why the coin flip thing? Why the whole Two sides of everything?

Then, you found out about Harvey Dent. You found out that he wasn’t bad... all the time. To you, it seemed like there were two people in charge of one body. Two minds trying to control the other. It was fascinating. Perhaps it was your way of sympathizing with monsters but Harvey was a pitiable creature that you didn’t quite feel pity for. It was something else, infatuation, perhaps? Hey, if Harley Quinn can become infatuated with the Joker, no one should laugh at you.

But Two-Face was too dangerous to laugh at and it wasn’t like you said anything about your infatuation, anyway.

Two-Face continued to talk, but you were too distracted to really listen. All you could do was stare. You stared at the way he was giving orders, the way he pointed, the way he threatened his lackeys, the way he threatened the guests, the way he flipped a coin and shot a senator in the foot.

You blinked back to the present and it kicked you in the butt. You were being held hostage and you could very much die in this situation.

But he was getting closer. And you could feel your heartbeat thrum with anticipation--was he going to threaten you, too? ...And what the fuck, was this anticipation fear? You placed a hand over your chest and mentally scolded yourself to stop getting horny in the middle of Two-Face butting the end of his gun in some dude’s face.

Two-Face was two people down from you now, flipping a coin, doing some threatening dialogue and making decisions. So far, no one’s died... that was a plus, right? 

He moved again. And one more time...

Until he was finally in front of you. 

It seemed like he was going to take another step before he froze. Your head barely cleared the square cut of his shoulders but then you could see that he was kind of slouching. He stood up straighter and you couldn’t see anything but the end of his tie now.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You were afraid to look up. Actually afraid. But you weren’t sure what the context was yet. You swallowed dryly, tilting your head back and came face to face with the grotesque appearance that you’ve come to memorize looking at glossy photographs of his mugshots.

“D...Dot.” you said, hoping you weren’t stuttering or your voice didn’t crack.

“Dot...” he repeated. You wanted to lower your head or look away but you couldn’t and took in his entire appearance.

The burned side of his face was so close, his wide eye seemingly staring holes into you. You were looking him in the eyes, you realized with something akin to horror and fascination.

You two just stared at each other for a while. It was.. unreal, to be honest. What was he going to say? What did he want? ...Did he really intend to hurt you?

You got your answer soon enough as he grabbed your wrist and yanked you into his grip. One of his arms came across your front which locked him to you, the other held a gun to your head. Then, he was shouting over your head, barking orders that came from deep in his chest that you felt it against your back. “We’re leaving boys, grab all the valuables before the Bat arrives!”

“Too late.”

A thump and everyone’s heads turned to see that Batman had landed on one of the goons under Two-Face’s command. He cracked the man on the back of his head with a hard punch that you had to inwardly wince. It sounded like it hurt. It must have as the man didn’t get up.

Shots begun to fire; everyone knew the drill. Batman was basically endgame. It was shoot him or be taken down and Two-Face didn’t need to remind his men of that. Batman seemed to weave in and out of bullet fire, taking down the men along with him.

Two-Face’s grip tightened and he backed up, taking you with him as well. You dared a glance upwards and noted that Harvey’s crazed eyes were staring straight at the Batman, bangs falling across his forehead and he was gritting his teeth. “Just had to crash the New Year celebration, huh?”

“Give it up, Two-Face. Drop D--the hostage and get away from her. Surrender peacefully... and no one has to get hurt.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing.” Two-Face’s head was near yours now and you jumped, startled that he had got close. He pinched your cheeks together with the hand holding the gun, giving it a playful shake. “I don’t want to.”

You realized too late that while the two were talking, Two-Face was walking you two backwards with his back towards the wall to ceiling windows. You realized too late as Batman reached out towards you, shouting, NO!, that you two were already falling through a hail of glittering glass shards and Two-Face’s cackle.

When Batman ran to the window, ready to grab you or fly after you two with a grappling hook, you two were nowhere to be seen.

The Batman had lost a hostage for the night. It was devastating. He grappled away, intent on finding out what happened to you at all cost. But that... is another story.

It seemed that Harvey Dent got the better of Batman tonight and had escaped with you in his grasp. For whatever purposes, no one could fathom. There had been a glint in the man’s eye as soon as he had laid eyes on you, one that you had hopefully missed. It may seem you had been dressed up as the predator for the night but you were definitely the prey.

and you? ...Well, you would know how this ends, wouldn’t you?

#{{ W.E.W.

[awfully-sadistic]

Having a holly, jolly Christmas

Because it’s the best time of the year!

I don’t know if there’ll be snow,

But have a cup of cheer!

Silent Night Vector Hyllus did not know what Christmas was and even less about what it stood for. Coming from a time where the galaxy and everything that happened in it happened a very “long time ago” and “far, far away” one could argue that he didn’t have to. It wasn’t like it was celebrated in any of the planets he had known and it made less sense to try to understand it since joining the hive mind and becoming Dawn Herald for an alien race that looked like giant ants known as Killiks. It just seemed so insignificant given the race had no use for human holidays and thus, Vector remained in ignorance for a very long time as he remained as one with the hive. 

Each and every Killik were in mental contact with one another, however, far away from the hive mind now, far away from any duties where he had nearly nothing to do but learn about different cultures and customs, Vector had gotten curious. The Haushold provided so many new experiences, rich, that he thought even exploring the galaxy couldn’t prepare him for the things he had seen in the Family. He was a silent observer, noting things, taking in everything with those seemingly lifeless blackened eyes and almost stoic expression.

Right now, those black eyes were trained on Dot. She was opening a gift that had been offered to her despite sitting in a wealth of presents from others who have known her longer, more intimately.

Yet, she was opening a gift from him.

The concept of gift exchanging was not as foreign as the concept of Christmas. Killiks had their own customs but he didn’t think she’d appreciate rubbing their forearms together. Or appreciate what others had called his “bug milk”, he hadn’t wanted to make a bad impression on her.

“We had hoped you liked it.” Vector finally spoke in that peculiar way that he does; when he speaks, he speaks in a soothing tone and for the hive he has joined with. Even far away.

Dot pulled an intricately designed necklace from the box, stunned by the exotic beauty of something she knew had to come from another galaxy. There were stones on it she’s never seen before and couldn’t even begin to describe. “It’s... beautiful,” she admired, unable to take her eyes off the way the gems glittered, shifted, twinkled. It sounds like a song, almost.

“We are glad.” Vector replied. It might have sounded like an ordinary statement but the way his shoulders relaxed showed Dot he had been holding onto tension based on her reaction. “We think the sound reminds us of The Song of the Universe; more specifically, we think it reminds us of your part.”

“Song?” Dot asked, looking up in a startled expression. “My? Wait, what does that mean?”

And Vector smiled softly, anxious in his own way to talk to her about this mysterious melody that was created by all living things with a part to play. He especially wanted to share what he thought about hers.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

“Your name is Carol. How can you not know Christmas carols?”

“I’m going to give you ten seconds to get out of my face before I send you to another dimension like I did with Tony.” 

Carol Danvers and Jason Todd were staring down at each other; both with big personalities and headstrong stubbornness that could out-mule any jackass in the Haus. This wasn’t anything mean-spirited but more that everyone had a lot to drink and manners were becoming unhinged.

Unfortunately, with huge personalities and clashing egos, a lot of manners would be unhinged. It was also an interesting mix considering the Marvel side and the DC side mingled quite well with one another. Too many people were like two sides on the same coin. It was nuts but it would also take a charging rhino to break up anyone (or these two) when they got going. 

Most of the time, it would end up with Carol as the victor because... she really was incredibly stronger than Jason (or nearly anyone else for that matter). Yet Jason was as stubborn as Ripley had been during the first merging month with Atamu, trying to get the jump on him.

Dot sat in her booth staring at the two with her mouth posed around a straw. She was drinking a milkshake and there was no way she was going to be stepping into that argument.

Well, at least until Carol made the first attempt to send Jason Todd bam, pow, straight to the moon. So, she decided to step in with a harmless statement.

“What carols do you know, Jason?” she smiled around the straw as Jason’s head whipped around, searching the crowd before they settled on Dot. Immediately, he got a lazy grin on his face and it seemed like he forgot he was talking to Carol. He came strolling over, sliding into the booth next to her.

Unfortunately for him, Carol followed. She slid in on Dot’s other side, effectively trapping the girl between the two; something... she really didn’t think through despite only a few moments ago deciding not to... be in the middle of them.

“I know lots,” he boasted.

Carol wasn’t buying it. “You do, do ya? Then how come you were makin’ a big fucking stink about me singing carols?” she asked, wrapping an arm around Dot’s shoulders and tugging her onto her side (of the argument). “Why didn’t you just sing somethin’?”

Jason’s expression deadpanned; one, he knew what Carol was doing and two, who invited her?! But as Jason was going to find out, no one invited Carol. She came because she wanted to, IF she wanted to. And Dot was around so duh, of course she was here.

“JARVIS, give me a Christmas carol.” Jason stated before the A.I. asked, “And what would you like to listen to, sir?”

Carol wasn’t even trying to hide the grin splitting her face. It was apparent Jason had just expected JARVIS to just play a carol over the loud speaker. Dot was trying to be a lot more polite though, clearing her throat and glancing up at her Mommy.

“...Any... one of them,” Jason said through grit teeth.

“Yeah, but which one?” Carol asked before JARVIS could play something, thus bailing Jason out. She was giving Dot a wink, one that Jason caught and Dot giggled at. They both knew he was more or less had--Jason didn’t know a damn carol even if it bit him in the butt... or sent him into another dimension.

“SOMETHING SOMETHING, OUR LORD AND SAVIOR JESUS, DAMN.”

Carol burst out laughing and Dot found herself doing the same. JARVIS, sounding like an unappreciated Alfred sighed and played a random carol that did, in fact, talk about Jesus.

O Come All Ye Faithful

“He’s... where and doing what?” Dot asked, unbelieving but at the same time, not surprised. It was a weird combination considering she had tried to be optimistic about it and figured it would be the one time Wesker wasn’t hiding down in the lab basements missing all the festivities and mingling with Family on Christmas. He’s been with everyone for HOW long and he’s still acting like an anti-social butthead?!

Jake rubbed a hand on his closely shaven head; at least he had been in the festive mood, wearing an “ugly” sweater that matched with his younger siblings; notably Flash, Petey, and Miles. He was grinning and looking down at his Ma, before his hand dropped to his side and then back towards the general direction of the Lab entrance.

“You know how that old bastard is. It’s probably better without him, scowling at everyone. Being the Grinch while we’re all trying to have a good time.”

“He’s still part of this Family!” she said though she knew Jake wasn’t the one who needed to hear this. She sighed and reached up--which still wasn’t enough and Jake, used to the gesture, bent his large frame so that Dot could cup his cheek. “Thank you for telling me. Now I’m going to give your father a piece of my mind and you can expect him to be up here, wearing a sweater of his own.”

Jake grinned again, leaning into his Ma’s hand. “I can’t wait to see that,” he said, pressing a kiss to the center of her palm. “That’d be a merry fucking Christmas for me!”

Dot had did her best to assure Jake that Wesker wasn’t going to get away with just an ugly sweater but he was going to give each and every one he usually hassled a Christmas present--with love, and personally delivered. Even if she had to lead him by the ear to do it.

The lab doors opened to its elevator and Dot stepped in, jabbing her thumb at the console, hitting the Basement sublevels. She had her arms crossed and ready to go OFF--

But then the elevator doors opened and the scenery before her stole her breath away. The lights were dimmed as she stepped out of the elevator and hanging above her head were strings of lights with a delicate lighting setting. It cast the usually harsh fluorescent scene of the labs in a soft glow reminiscent of a snow fall during the night. Quiet, serene, personal, private.

Standing at the other end of the hallway was Wesker. By now, Dot figured she was... set up. Jake working with Wesker? Well, she never expected that. And that was probably how she was lured to the labs without a second thought about being set up and all worked up about it, too.

Now the air was let out of her balloon and she felt entirely aware of walking towards the mastermind behind.. whatever this was.

It took her a little bit to actually reach Wesker considering she was still admiring the time and effort it took to string up the lights. Sure, the servants must have done it but the thought had been no doubt Wesker’s own. When she stood in front of him, he was already staring down at her. That stupid smug grin on his face was in place and the sensation flared up to smack the glasses off his face. But he surprised her by presenting her with a small box.

Slowly, she took it, giving him a quizzical glance. “Why couldn’t you have given this to me upstairs. You know, with everyone else?” she jabbed, only half-serious. It was more so being a brat out of anything.

“That is precisely the reason,” Wesker replied with a sigh, slightly only serious himself. “there were too many people.” Dot was going to further push it by mentioning that was the point of being Family but Wesker cut her off and added, “It’s not a crime to steal a little of your time. Everyone else does it.”

Dot didn’t point out that he has, on more than one occasion, has committed crimes on securing some quality time well spent with Dot but dropped it as soon as the lid to the box had been pulled off. She wasn’t aware that Wesker had placed his hands over hers, helping her open her present in an attempt to steer her attention away from scolding him or otherwise giving him a “hard” time. Hardly a hard time; he loved their little verbal spars. It kept him sharp and on his toes--but he didn’t want to sully this, their, moment with something like that. He wanted to show her that she was special.

“...This is...” 

“Mm hm. It is.”

Dot laughed a little, staring down at the gigantic heart shaped diamond. “...You’re surprisingly sentimental.”

Wesker made a thoughtful sound at the back of his throat. He looked a little uncomfortable, perhaps having to share more than a thimble of emotion. But he managed to do it because Dot was worth much more than that and she had the right to know and had all his attempts on ...opening up. Despite how hard it was for someone like Wesker to. 

“Only with the right person.” Wesker replied, “and you are the right person.” He enclosed the giant jewel in Dot’s tiny little hand. It didn’t even fit but it felt like a good example of how his heart was held in her small hand. It might be a little cold and harder than any precious metal on earth but it was precious to her and she would keep it safe.

[* I’m sorry there’s not a lot! I wrote until I had to sleep for tomorrow and this was all I managed to get done! @.@;  ]

#{{ Dedication: Holidays

[awfully-sadistic]

Before I let my night go too far away from me, I started working on something yesterday. Still, uninspired, I went for the thing we had been doing recently. Reading comics and I had attempted to throw something in there for Dot on account of her feelings towards Civil War, but I ran out of steam and I have no idea where I want to take this.

So, I thought I’d post it here ANYWAY and come back to it--as long as I wrote, right?

The Day the Civil War Stood Still

 At the beginning, they stood there talking about the atrocities this war would bring. They pointed at each other and both came up with two significant reasons to fight—both ended up with the same conclusion in which they would both fight for the prevention of loss.

Prevention of the loss of family, friends, and their livelihood.

Prevention in the loss of rights, freedom, and to pursue said livelihood.

The hardest part was being unable to tell which side was wrong and which side was right. In this war, there was no clear reasoning to apply to either side and with certainty, without a doubt, declare one side a winner.

Unfortunately, it just meant that both sides were to become losers.

Perhaps we were lucky that they started with conversations or perhaps unlucky because if they had started fighting, it would have ended quicker instead of coming to the halting blow Dot would know had to come into fruition one day. The young woman felt herself standing in the middle as they spoke about what this war would cost, what it would take away, and what it meant for two sides fighting this inevitable outcome.

Inevitable.

It was a word they both used to denote that it was to come, whether or not they wanted it to. It was a sure thing at this point and unavoidable. A head to the issue between superheroes and civilians was inevitable. Action was called for, to prevent such a catastrophe from ever happening again, inevitable. Choosing sides was inevitable. Both sides having casualties, inevitable. Families and friendships torn apart, inevitable. A winner and a loser, inevitable.

Both of them stood on their side of the line and were able to stand in front of each other as former colleagues and former friends, and they stared each other in the eye and they yelled and shouted, howled and hissed, punched and kicked about what side was right and which side was wrong.

There was no right side. There was no wrong side.

Or perhaps the side that was wrong was the unseen third party, the one really behind the scenes pulling the strings and manipulating the hero and civilian emotions into a whirlwind that everyone got caught into, leaving a path of destruction in its wake.

Dot wanted to tell them, stop, look at what you’re doing—look at how all that you’ve been building will get caught up in that whirlwind and break apart and you can’t go back. You can’t go back and rebuild something to how it used to be; you get pretty damn close but it wouldn’t be the same building. But their voices drowned her out and by the time Dot’s voice had been heard, it was hoarse and she was merely whispering.

She was mad for a long time.

--

So, she decided to do something about it.

--

Victor von Doom had, more or less, no need to try to rule his beloved country of Latveria with the iron fist he had been so used to doing since he wasn’t ever home. That didn’t mean he wasn’t aware of anything that happened while he wasn’t there; one of his Doombots stood in for him ruling there while he tried his damnedest to exert some foothold in ruling the Haushold, too. It was a most difficult task considering his attempts were thwarted knowingly by the Avengers and Fantastic Four (and unknowingly by the Patriarchs) on a daily basis.

But Doctor Doom was not needed now. Well, if one were to ask Dot, he were needed all the time but… she preferred him NOT to be around while she snuck into Latveria—who was she kidding, another ten minutes (or seconds), Doom will be alerted to her presence on the continent anyway!—and tried to find that convenient little TIME MACHINE he had.

Oh yes.

Time machine.

A time machine Dot desperately needed.

--

Please keep in mind that this was very rough and I wasn’t sure what I was talking about. Like I said, I might do something with it later. But for now, I hope this can count for “Write Every Week” ugh.

#{{ W.E.W.

[awfully-sadistic]

Unwell

I ripped this shit from the song I was currently listening to; it doesn’t have to make seeeeense. Byeeeeee.

All day, staring at the ceiling  making friends with shadows on my wall.

The room had to be dark. That was the right “temperature” ... so to speak, in Patrick O’Brian’s mind. Perhaps he meant “setting the mood” but who knew? Nothing had to make sense except for the way he knew how things worked. Anyone could tell you that things didn’t work the same way in his head as they functioned in the real world. But that’s alright. It didn’t have to make sense to the others.

And with just the right amount of light, it makes this the prime condition to put on his show.

“Are you... are you watching?” he asked, his voice hitched with anticipation. The flicking of the candle cast such eerie shadows on his ever changing appearance as he seemingly stretches and snaps back to original form. His goggles were aimed at her but his neck was in such an unnatural angle, he looked something out of a horror movie.

Dot wasn’t certain if he knew how to sit still but she nodded, smiling in the dim of the light and not at all bothered.“Yep!”

Patrick was a peculiar man. Many of the heroes she overheard speak about him deemed him too “unpredictable” to entrust with matters of importance and sitting in this darkened room with him, she might have been inclined to agree. Patrick was wrapped around her like some sort of safety harness but in reality, it was to ensure she didn’t run away from him. 

She was inclined to agree with the unpredictability. Not that he would necessarily bring her any harm. She could have told him holding her down was not necessary but... Dot was enjoying herself, too. Patrick was giving her one of the best hugs she ever had in her life.

Then, Patrick started to do funny things with his hands. Behind him, the shadows cast shapes that danced together to form scenes or animals, interacting with each other.

He was putting on a shadow puppet show for her.

It was a magical show, the many things he could do with his hands. He wasn’t necessarily skilled with actually making shapes the traditional way. Patrick was able to actually transform his hand into the animals instead of manipulating the shadows.

Was it cheating? Perhaps. But it was really fun.

Dot laughed and she would have clapped along if he hadn’t wrapped himself so tightly around her that her arms were glued to her sides. 

“They’re wonderful, Patrick!” she cooed with affection.

Was she his prisoner? Well, Dot wasn’t too sure about that. In the Haus, there really wasn’t such a thing. In Patrick’s head? Perhaps he rationalized this way to be the only way to get Dot’s attention.

She didn’t mind that either.

#{{ W.E.W.

[awfully-sadistic]

Maaan, I don’t know.

Writing every week seemed like a good idea in theory until it’s the last day of the week you’re supposed to write and I’m sitting here all

I have no idea what I want to write about. But I guess I’ll pull something out my fucking ass like I always do.

#{{ journal

[awfully-sadistic]

Saw someone post a stupid Shakespeare quiz and was stupidly curious about what my own result would be.

I’m actually quite fine with my result.

#{{ reblogs: fun

[awfully-sadistic]

Evidence

Kids are crafty. But they can also be blunt and honest. But Dot was grateful that her kids were perfect. As any mother could tell you, their kids were perfect too but Dot truly knew that hers were actually perfect.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t do bad things sometimes.

For example, the Daycare room in the Nursery wing of the Haus was absolutely splattered with a colorful combination of who-knows-what consisting of sticky, flour-y, and liquid constitution. It looked like little starbursts or fireworks in pattern, reminding Dot of a colorful addition to the wallpaper.

“Holy f--shoot, what the hell happened in here?”

Dot turned and came face to face with Nero. He was a tall hybrid that towered over her and had to often duck into the room in order to get inside. That wasn’t news as everyone who lived within the Haushold or visited it often had to duck into door frames. He also had a youthful punk appearance and sentry eyes that was currently looking around before he tacked on, “Where are the children?”

Nero often came down to the Nursery to help look after the children and interact with them. It was his only other “job” besides the demon hunting thing he does alongside his Uncle Dante. He often gave the rewards he had accumulated to Dot in order to spoil the kids with new toys or anything else the Nursery might need--which really wasn’t much considering the state of the Haus. However, Dot appreciated the sentiment no matter how many times she had to give his treasure back. She often told him it was enough he played with the children and if he wanted to bring them new toys, he was always welcomed to do it.

So Nero had started to come in with his arms filled with presents instead of raw gold like he had used to. It wasn’t any different to Christmas when Nero walked in the room with toys for the children.

His arms were full now and Dot had to reign in her smile because there was still the issue of the “make-over” the Nursery had undergone. She was in serious mode.

“That’s what I was wondering,” Dot said and then gestured to the nearest table. It was kiddie sized, of course, which meant it only reached their ankles. “you can go ahead and put those there. Maybe I can entice the babies out that way.”

Nero did as was suggested. Dot half-expected the clatter of kids’ toys to lure the children out but was surprised when not one little face peered around the corner to spy on what the big adults were doing.

“Huh.” she mused, looking around in perplexity. “I was sure that would have worked. And I know my babies.”

Nero had his head turned down to look at Dot then swept his gaze around the empty nursery again. The amount of splatter on the walls was staggering. He tipped his head back as he seemingly followed some sort of trail. 

“How’d it get on the ceiling?”

Dot sounded half-preoccupied as she responded deep in her thought process, “Little Laura has an arm on her. I think it was all the practice she got in throwing things at my brothers’ fat heads. But that’s if I thought the kids did this...”

Nero laughed but it cut off short as he took in Dot’s last statement. “So someone else is responsible?”

“Yep, has to be. I don’t think my babies can do Momma wrong like this.”

Nero’s hand landed on the small of Dot’s back and he leaned down low enough so that his head was level with Dot’s. He asked in a conspirator whisper, “Do you think whoever is responsible is still close?”

“For their sake, they better be across the world.” she whispered back. “But that still leaves me questioning where my babies are...”

It seemed Dot didn’t have to wait much further for that answer. There was a clamor of chattering and the echo of tiny children voices carried into the Nursery. Both Dot and Nero watched as Beau led in two rows of very well-behaved children who were holding hands; it was obvious they were using the buddy system and had been on a “field trip” somewhere. Beau looked like he was dressed as some kind of conductor. Trailing behind was Armand, taking in the rear and dressed as a female flight attendant.

Beau looked surprised as he spotted Dot and Nero and finally, the state of the Nursery. “Wow, did you guys redecorate?”

Dot hmm’d before saying, “Well, it wasn’t Beau. He’s honest to a fault.”

Armand’s mouth was open and he was looking around in amazement. That also struck him off Dot’s suspect list.

“Armand’s too innocent to do anything bad, ever.”

By then, the children had broken up and were surrounding Dot and Nero, excited to see them both and regaling them with their tiny adventures with Uncle Beau and Uncle Armand.

“We saw Africa!” Laura stated proudly, tugging on Dot’s shirt. Dot laughed, knowing that Beau and Armand couldn’t have possibly--she paused as she took in Armand’s outfit again.

“Wh-what?” she laughed nervously, hoping someone would elaborate. But Alma and Alessa held up two twin drawings of something that looked like the Eiffel tower and Big Ben done in crayon. She took both drawings and took a closer look at them, praising the girls for their jobs well done; it was simultaneously both the cutest and most frightening thing Dot could have received right then.

Surely... the children were not just flown across the world...

Nero had picked up Remy, peering down at a tiny little name tag stuck to the toddler’s chest. “You guys spelled Remy wrong.”

“What?!” Dot asked, looking over. “R-E-A---REAMY!?”

“What?!” Beau parroted, walking over to take a look for himself. He yanked it off Remy’s chest and crumpled it into a ball. “We didn’t spell anything. We took the kids to the museum to see culture and maybe some dinosaurs.”

Dot felt her heart rate slow as she released a breath, “Oh?” That explains... everything except Beau’s and Armand’s clothes. She felt she didn’t need an explanation for that at the moment, perhaps later, cause they did look to be the cutest damn things; after the children, of course. Now, with her assurances that the children didn’t just get zipped across the country but rather into town, she knelt and listened to each and every one who wanted to share something with her. 

For the moment, the state of the Nursery was forgotten. It was easy once a whole bunch of children were babbling on and on about the things they had seen, learned, and the stories they came up with their vast imaginations.

To her amazement, the group had been bigger with the addition of the ones who permanently resided in the Nursery. Consisting of the children who lived in town itself and occasionally visit the Haus, the Nursery had been the initial meeting spot. 

But Beau had explained that it was cleaned before they left. 

“Yeah, this is the strangest fu--flippin’ thing.” he said, looking around. “Who could have made this mess?”

Nero frowned deeply, “Could someone have infiltrated the Haus?”

Dot frowned even deeper. “...No. Impossible. The Nursery is the most protected area in the Estate. Someone would be able to break into the Main Haus first before getting to the Nursery if they can make it that far. It has to be someone from the Haus and when I find out, Momma’s not going to be happy.”

The girls, Alma, Alessa, and Laura, looked at each other, “Oooooooh.”

“Someone’s in trouble~” Laura said in her adorable sing-songy way. Dot pressed a kiss to her forehead before replying, “Yep, you’re absolutely right, angelface.”

Alma and Alessa giggled. 

“We can help, Mommy.” Alessa said in a good-girl way with horrible, scary implications behind that innocent appearance.

Alma simply smiled behind her wealth of hair. It was enough to make Beau shudder and laugh nervously. He was glad HE wasn’t the one in trouble. Dot tickled Alessa’s cheek and then gave them both a kiss for their offer. She had to admit, it was tantalizing. It was tickling something in her own sadistic streak but she wanted to deal with it herself. Perhaps if she felt whoever was responsible needed the extra punishment, she would enlist the girls’ to give them awful nightmares or something. 

But first, she was going to hunt them down and make them clean up the Nursery. If she was in a good mood, she might give them cleaning supplies.

“Thank you, babies, but that’s alright. Uncle Nero brought you guys some toys. Why don’t you play with those.”

That was able to take the children’s attention away as they turned on Nero, all smiles and gasping wonderment. Nero was great with children; he loved them and was amazingly, one of the few people Laura had not kicked or “tortured” for getting too close to her Mommies. Very much like Dot, he put the children first. There was alot to ask about why he felt strongly about the children but the opportunity hadn’t come up. It wasn’t that dire to know or so Dot figured. As long as the children were taken care of and weren’t mishandled, she wasn’t going to ask WHY he loved children. It was obvious why anyone loved children--it was weird why people DIDN’T.

“Yo! They’re in here!” A new voice shouted from the doorway and Dot looked up in surprise to see Dillon. It put a smile on her face which immediately dropped as soon as Jax entered.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” she asked, of course meaning Jax.

“wHaT tHe hElL aRe YoU dOiNg HeRe?” he parroted in that annoying... little brother way.

“Oi, that ain’t why we’re here, Jax.” Dil nudged his partner-in-crime directly in the ribs. Dot was watching the exchange with skepticism mainly because Jax was involved. Dil, while far from being able to do anything wrong, was still a troublemaker in his own right; with Brothers like Ewan and Vaughn and a raised setting like the ClubHaus, it was inevitable. He’d become a hellion in his own right. But when paired with Jax, those two... often went on rampages that put the whole Haushold through hell in their wake. From annoying the older Alphas to flipping off the Haus roofs and doing “stunts” and experiments that often find themselves going viral, they were prone to doing just about anything ridiculously fucking stupid together. In fact, the two had looked like they had been up to something right now. Both were caked in colorful splatter--

It was at that moment Dot put two and two together and something clicked in her head.

“JAX, DID YOU FUCK UP THE NURSERY--”

“YOU HAVE NO PROOF!”

“YOU’RE COVERED IN IT, YOU FUCKING MOON MOON OF THE SEA--”

“THEN WHY DID YOU ASK!?” a pause and then--

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME!?”

Nero, Beau, and Armand had to escort the children away from the Nursery with their new toys because as much as people try not to curse around the children, it... still happens. It might be a moot point moving them at all considering who the children happen to be but it was still practiced around the Haus. Especially when things were about to get violent, they often wanted to “spare” the children the sight.

“Awww, come on. I want to see Mommy kick his butt!” Laura softly whined, trying to peer around the door.

“Don’t worry, we’ll see the aftermath,” Nero grinned. And if it’s any indication of the Nursery, it was going to be messier.

#{{ W.E.W.

[awfully-sadistic]

I still have like, 3 days to figure out what I want to write about. Ugh.

#{{ journal

[awfully-sadistic]

I was watching the latest Good Content show (it’s the formally unnamed show) by the Grumps and they were using this auto-completing text thing in order to make fanfiction. Sonic fanfiction.

Aside from the Sonic fanfics, I thought... wow, this seems pretty cool so I decided to give it a whirl myself.

I’m just going to have like, five snippets of random sentences I’ve thrown in there of my own making and see how it turns out. I can’t guarantee that they’ll make sense but maybe something will. Bold is what I had input--the rest is what was auto-completed for me.

1. Dot, Jon, and Damian had planned for an eventful outing. But a superhero's work is never done and sometimes, there is no time for rest and recreation.

Just as Dot was about to serve the boys a piece of pie while sitting on their checkered picnic blanket, an explosion sounded off in the east. 

Jon and Damian looked at Dot and then at each other.

"Oh-oh, that sounds bad." Jon said. "Who's behind that?

"Damian looked at Dot, who was already on the phone.

"Well, I guess it's time to come clean. You see, I am, in fact, the Flash."

Dot held up a hand, shaking her head. "You're the Flash?" she asked, confused. "You've never been here?" "I can't remember ever being here. It's all a blur, now. It's like the past." "It's really quite incredible, actually." Dot said. "So why are you calling now?" Damian asked. "It's an emergency, and you're too late." "I was in the midst of trying to save the world and then all of a sudden you were there."

As you can see, this got confusing as fuck, really fast. But! I loved the part where Damian looked over at Dot and she was already on the phone like that fucking meme.

2.  Dot stopped in the doorway, hearing loud singing from Cooper and Beau. When she peered inside the room, she saw that they both had their arms around each other and were shouting-- "DO YOU COME FROM A LAND DOWN UNDER?" It appeared they had gotten into Pop's very strong alcohol cabinet. She opened the door and, as she had done so many times before, stepped in to try and calm them. The alcohol would not calm them. "What's wrong, you two? Is it hot in there?" It took them all of thirty seconds to figure out the answer. "No, it's nothing," said one of the young men. "It's not hot. It's cold." "We thought it would be nice to have a good old-fashioned ice cream party, so we went over to Pop's."

I don’t even know where to begin with this.

3.  Dot stood in-between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. In her hand, she had a list of all the items they would need to survive a trip to the moon. She discovered that to survive a trip to the moon, it was essential to pack: – 3,000 kg (6,624 lbs) of space supplies – 2,000 kg (3,264 lbs) of liquid oxygen – 1,000 kg (2,838 lbs) of food – 1,000 kg (2,838 lbs) of water – 400 grams (12 oz) of propellant – 300 grams (8.5 oz) of liquid nitrogen – 500 grams (16 oz) of nitrogen and oxygen

Dot turned to give Tony a dry look. “Did you have to be so technical in this list?” Steve Rogers was still trying to understand how they were going to fit all of this in their backpacks.

‣ "This list is pretty big,” ‣ and all the pictures need to be numbered,” ‣ and I need to tell everyone” ‣ where everything is” ‣ and it's all in a binder” ‣ and I can't figure out” ‣ how we're going to fit it all in” ‣ it looks like I'll have to do it again tomorrow” ‣" ‣ he was getting very frustrated,” ‣ "‣ and I'm not very sure how to go about doing this,” ‣ and I think if I make a mistake I could mess this up” ‣" 

Towards the end there, it sounds like Dot and Steve ganging up on Tony about this huge ass technical list, throwing idle comments back and forth at each other about it.

4.   Peter Parker was wrapped around Dot's leg, sobbing about how he lost a dollar in a subway train. "I really needed that dollar!"

 "It's all right. We'll take care of you," Dot assured. "I don't want to die. I need to go back. I'm still here," he said. The couple began to walk around the block together. "It's going to be OK," Dot assured him. As they continued their walk, Dot became concerned about Parker, who she said was still acting "irrational" and could not answer any questions. "We have to take him to the hospital," she said.

Lmao, there’s a lot I could say about this. It’s so fucking hilarious. It sounds like Dot was being interviewed at the end and Peter freaking out about his dollar and needing to be hospitalized...

5.  Dot Dreadful was never one to swoon over Batman until she realized that he had lots of children. She became his assistant, doing his paperwork, keeping records, and even writing him love letters. Eventually, she was chosen to be the Batman's partner. But then she realized that all the letters she had written him were all nonsense and that she had never even been to the Batcave. In the end, she went crazy, went into a catatonic state, and broke the cave so that Batman wouldn't get hurt in it. And in this state, she turned to ash and went to live in Gotham in the belly of a giant volcano. The End of the Golden Age

WHAT THE FUCK LOL

#{{ W.E.W.

[awfully-sadistic]

The Hellowoon Diaries ft. Armand || #7, Last Entry

Oct. 31st

D.A.D.,

At the time of this recording, it’s Hellowoon.

The last time I recorded an entry, I said the worlds were colliding. It was the end of the two planets as everyone had known, or at least to those who had the clearance to know.

Mr. Nick Fury returned just in time to tell us what was going on and why they had lost touch in the first place.

We learned a lot.

The portals that had been appearing in both our worlds caused a disruption that tipped a balance that we had not been aware of at first. Mr. Fury had explained that the only thing that had been of concern were illegal trespasses between realms; you know that by now, our planet, Earth-6969, is under its own turmoil with the tensions between species of Humans and Supernaturals.

People from Earth-616 and Earth-6969 did not need to meddle in each other’s affairs but not everything could be left as pristine as how it started out. Mr. Fury said that’s a lesson that he keeps learning despite wanting to believe in the greater good of people. But it seems that there are more “bad” people than good people.

If that was not bad enough, the portals appearing from out of nowhere ripped a hole through space and time and caused an underlying strain on the equilibrium between the two planets. Right under our noses, Mr. Fury explained, we had no idea just how great a threat these portals really were and the scary part is that even if they had known, there would have been no way to stop them.

Our destruction had been inevitable.

Or at least Mr. Fury had assumed. Doctor Stephen Strange is a wondrous and amazing man. A Sorcerer Supreme as Dot and Doctor Strange could tell you, himself.

I believed I witnessed a miracle on the eve of our destruction. I am not sure there are even words to describe what had happened; I am simply not articulate enough to explain it.

I believe Dodger could do a better job, I will leave that to whatever proof he was able to compile and attach it to this entry. For now, let me continue.

Hellowoon.

By now, I know it’s Halloween. But I’ve been saying it as Hellowoon for so long, I don’t really want to correct myself.

Hellowoon is when everything began to crumble; it was our end but also our beginning. The days leading up to Hellowoon had been a warning but we did not understand how to read them, yet.

The disturbances, for a time, had cut off contact with Earth-616 I’m sure you’d remember from my previous entries. It was why we could not have contact with Mr. Fury or Doctor Strange.

…Or Evi.

It was… a surprise to know that Evi was originally from Earth-616, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent sent in to help us.

Or observe us?

Dodger and Dot are still trying to decide that one; but I can see the hurt in Dot’s eyes. She is already distrustful. This did not help.

Mr. Fury said that Dot and our agency would be partners. I do not think he treated us like such until the very end.

He apologized. Said it was necessary, but Dot is still thinking that over. I do not blame her. I thought Evi was our friend, too. But why would she lie?

I do not get the concept of sneaking around, trying to gain trust, only to hurt that person because it was your job. Why are you that loyal to a job that requires you to do such a thing? Perhaps it is because I am a ghost or that I do not know much about how the world works. Perhaps this is a common thing among people like Evi? Spies, is it?

I think Dot would be willing to forgive Evi but she just needs time. We all do.

 Our worlds are more than connected now. We have merged into one.

Perhaps we are overly crowded but our planet’s population wasn’t much to begin with; along with us comes our alien technology and there are on-going debates about that. There needs to be elections for the seats in governments again and places that were not populated are now bustling with activity.

Yet there is still room for our Supernatural beasts and cryptids and myths to thrive and branch out in the merged worlds. Our history is now mingled with 616’s, as I’m told.

Doctor Strange has explained it like overlaying a transparent outline to an already planned out blueprint. There was no harm in it, it just added… more.

So, there’s more.

Our planet’s outline didn’t have all the details; just the foundation of what we were followed us.

We work out of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum now, we have an area that he’s gifted us we can call as an office for our own; Doctor Strange’s home is… amazing. It’s ever-changing, ever-shifting. It’s like.. magic which sounds like a silly thing to say, doesn’t it? He was nice enough to give us a floorplan that looks exactly like our Sanctum from our old planet. It has only been a day but things… feel okay. We are based out of New York now, where ever that is. Dot seems to be excited. Dodger does too.

Speaking of which, Dot has a new house and so does Dodger. Ryton is still anchored to his stapler but seemed to have crossed over just fine.

As for me…

My clock broke during the entire transition and chaos; it was a funny thing that we found out.

I wasn’t anchored to the entire clock itself. Just the face. It’s a brass disc, hand-made, and it feels like home.

The best part, it can fit in Dot’s pocket.

There’s still a lot to learn as we transition to a life in Earth-616. It’s not going to be easy, I know that we’re going to have our own troubles if, and this is Mr. Fury saying, any discriminations come out between those of 6969 and 616. Perhaps we’re going to find ourselves in some vicious cycle…

Or perhaps one day, Mr. Fury is going to have that notion of his realized and find out that there really is more good in people than the bad…

 Armand, signing off.

#{{ original drabbles: spooktober 2019