#posting now because i'm gonna be a wreck in another two hours and i'm already shaking with anticipation

[jemmaasimmons]

goodbye derry girls (2018-2022)

It doesn't matter that you've got that stupid accent, or that your bits are different to my bits, but because being a Derry Girl, well, it's a fucking state of mind!

#derrygirlsedit #derry girls #tvedit #usertelevision #usersitcom #nessa007 #userannalise #useranne #useryoumna #sallysimpsons #useryashrin #usereponine #userrlaura #dailyflicks #usersource #flashing gif tw #*mine #posting now because i'm gonna be a wreck in another two hours and i'm already shaking with anticipation #im gonna miss them so much :(

[im-in-love-with-pizza-bites]

Yours, Mine, Ours: Chapter 30

Single-Dad!Chris Evans X Single-Mom!Reader

Series MasterList

List of OCs for this series

Series Summary: Your husband Caspian Richardson Senior died while serving in the military, so you move your three sons to Boston, MA. Where you meet an actor and his sweet daughter.

Chapter Summary: You clean up your house while the kids go to the park.

Series Warnings: Death of a spouse/parent, divorce of parents,

Chapter Warnings:

Chris looks at that article shocked. How did he not notice paparazzi? And what were you gonna say? What if you've already seen it? You're gonna kill him. You guys agreed to keep your relationship private with only family and friends knowing. No fans, and no paparazzi. Anytime the media gets involved in a relationship it ends. He doesn't want media pressure. What if you realize just how pushy the paparazzi can get? So you breakup with him so they don't bother you and your kids. A part of him would understand if you did break up with him.

"Daddy! Caspian is here! He's gonna take me to the park to teach me football! Remember?" June says pulling him from his thoughts.

Now what is he worried about? Paparazzi saw you, Chris and the kids last night celebrating Caspian winning the first game of the season. It was a "great" shot that shows yours, Caspian and Connor's faces. Jace's face couldn't be seen cause he was looking up at Chris. And Juniper has already been seen by fans. Rarely but he'd sometimes bring her as his "date" to premieres and he's posted photos of her. Scott posts photos of her too. It's not a often occurrence and he tries to keep anything that could be embarrassing to himself until she can give permission to post them. But he's not sure how you feel about your kids being seen by press.

"Yeah bug, I remember." Chris smiles and looks down at her. "Have fun, listen to Capsian okay?"

"Okay! Bye daddy love you!"

"I love you too baby girl." Chris watches her run to the door and he sees Caspian standing there texting someone.

"Hey Caspian."

"Hey.." Caspian looks at him, the look on his face is indifferent. It's not his usual smiling expression he normally has. He definitely saw it.

"Be careful today okay?"

"Yeah... Mom hasn't seen the article yet but I'm guessing you have? You should tell her before she finds out on her own." Caspian tells him before June grabs his hand a drags him outside where his brothers were waiting.

He has a point. Chris though as he heard the door shut. He can't let this relationship end because of the paparazzi. He goes to the door putting his shoes on before he walks next door. He knocks on the door, it only takes a little bit before you open it.

"Hey Chris!" You grin before kissing him. "Come on in, I'm trying to clean the house before the boys get home. It's kind of a wreck." You laugh letting him walk in.

"Have any luck finding someone to watch Jace?"

"No Butler is going house hunting and Maya is job hunting I only know so many people here. I don't know what to do though. He's not old enough to stay home alone for eight hours. But I can't take five days of work off." You sigh as start fixing up the couch, moving pillows and cushions.

"I mean I start filming another movie this week but he can come to set with me if you want? I'll have a trailer for him to hang out in." Chris offers.

"You'd do that? Oh thank you so much. You really don't mind? I mean thats your job you don't have to bring him."

"Don't worry I used to bring June when she was two. Jace is way better behaved then she was." Chris assures.

"Okay. Thank you so much babe." You give him a grateful look.

"You're welcome baby." He kisses you before beginning to help you clean up. "Uh I actually came over to tell you something."

"Okay good ahead." You smile at him.

"The paparazzi got a photo of you and Connor and Caspian."

"I know. Ben sent me one of the articles right before you come over." You look at him.

"I'm sorry. My publicist is already on it."

"It's not your fault Chris, it was bound to happen eventually. We've been together 8 months I'm surprised it didn't happen soon." You chuckle putting a hand on his shoulder. "We just have to be more careful."

"You're right I guess... But are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure stop worrying."

———

"Okay June ready throw the ball to me!" Caspian says kneeling down. They were using a small foam football from the dollar store. It was easier for June to hold then Caspian's football. She throws the ball and Connor begins running for him. Caspian dodges him and runs back towards June he passes the ball and tells her to run.

"Yay! Touchdown!" She yells throwing the ball on the ground like she saw Caspian do the night before.

"Good job Duckling!" Caspian grins highfiving the young girl. "2-0." He says the points to his brothers.

"It's not fair why does she get to have you on her team!" Connor argues.

"Cause she's younger then you guys." Caspian chuckles.

"Can we eat our snack mom packed now?"

"Sure it's in my backpack." Caspian pointed at the black bookbag that say in the grass.

Jace and Connor hurry over to it and open the bag. They both pull out a sandwich bag of goldfish. June comes over to get something to eat as well and they hand her another bag. They toss one to Caspian before they all sit down in the grass.

"Who was that girl from last night?" Jace asks Caspian.

"Just a friend, I'll introduce you to her sometime." Caspian assures.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Connor teases.

"No me and Cassidy aren't dating." Caspian rolls his eyes.

"Cassidy and Caspian sitting in a K.I.S.S.I.N.G f-" Connor stops singing as Caspian pushes him.

"Shut up!"

"I thought your song was really pretty." June tells him causing the three boys to laugh.

"Thank you." Connor smirks.

Taglist: @anacrcarvalho @traceyaudette @deputy-videogamer @stillthatbetch @queenofthepouges @dontbescaredtosingalong @hauntedmuffinpersonarascal @food8me @cedricdiggorysimpp @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @selluequestrian @killerqueenfan @lharrietg @liecastillo @denisemarieangelina @wisepeanutlady @unicornblueberry @stitchattacks @milacolibri @spooky-stoner @marvelmenwhore @saahmi @boldlypessimistic @freakyevanss @asuni921 @srhxpci @supriseeshawtyy @nova10711 @nik2write @blueeyeddemon1016 @happinessinthebeing @winterberryfox @sunwardsss @ellerosie2332 @the-photo-hoe @tanyaherondale @hollzo-03 @xuxszx @patzammit @dakotazzzzz @scarletmeii @janaev4ns @channiechanchan @hibernocaledonian

#chris evans #cevans #chris evans x fluff #chris evans x f!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fandom #chris evans fic #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans series #chris evans angst #x f!reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #x single mom!reader #single parent au #single mom au #single dad au #single dad!chris evans #caspian richardson sr #caspian richardson jr #jace richardson #connor richardson #richardson boys #juniper evans #yours mine ours

[laskyy]

Hey guys! So today (October 6th) is my bestie's (@newkyumilk) bday! And since it's already the 7th of October (Jiung's bday) in korea I decided to post this imagine as a present for my bestie and as a birthday special to Jiung! I really hope you enjoy this 💖💖💖

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Memories

Tw: Kissing, crying, mentions of trains (let me know if I missed something)

Genre: fluff

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Friends come and go, was what everyone always said and you didn't really believe them until you completely lost touch with your childhood best friend, Jiung.

You and Jiung had met when you were both only 5, your parents were good friends so it was only natural for you two to hang out when they hung out.

Jiung had seen all of your awkward phases, and he stuck with you through all of them, well that is until he moved cities without even telling you and that always made you think if you did something wrong or if he didn't want to hurt you.

That was 3 years ago, now you were a college student and you were very focused on your future, wanting to excell so you could have the life you always wanted.

You were very tired from all of the assignements, but you could finally rest as your college would give students a small two week break, and honestly it was just what you needed to relax.

You and your parents had planned to visit some friends in another city, but you didn't bother asking who they were, you just wanted a little get away.

"Honey, do you have everything packed?" Your mom asked as you went down the stairs of your house into the living room where your parents were waiting.

"Yes, I double checked everything!" You said as you reached the living room and sighed.

"You're gonna love these few days I promise!" Your dad said as opened the door for you and your mom.

"I'm sure I will, I really need to rest! I hope your friends are calm people!" But instead of answering, your parents just stared at each other with knowing smiles as they exited your house and locked the door.

You guys headed for the train station and in your mind was only the thought of how th house was gonna be and who were the friends you were gonna be visiting.

All those thought came to a halt when your mom called you to get on the train as it had already arrived.

You got on the train and let your mind run wild. Train rides brought you a certain nostalgia, because you used to ride the train with your childhood bestriend Jiung all the time.

But well, now that he wasn't here you couldn't hope for it to happen again. And besides that he just left you with no trace.

"Honey, hey, sorry to interrupt your thought, but I just wanted to tell you that we're almost there!" Your dad said as he gave you a small smile.

"Ok dad, thanks for telling me." You answered as you looked out the window and saw a field of flower. More specifically one that reminded you of your childhood with Jiung.

Flashback

You and Jiung were 10 years old and were just playing hide and seek in a field of flowers, somewhere you'd go to after school every friday.

"I'm coming!" Jiung said as he tried to look for you as you were hidden behind a bush. You were hoping he'd take longer finding you but he found you with no time.

"Got you!" He said as he laughed cutely and you looked at him laughing as well. "How are you so good at this?" You asked as you both sat down in the grass.

"I played a lot with my cousin last summer, so you better watch out." He said as he tried to look scary, but you just laughed.

You stood there looking at the field when you spotted a beautiful sunflower. "Look Jiung, how beautiful is that?" "It's very pretty! Wait a little bit!" He said as he stood up and disappeared for a few minutes, and when you were about to look for him he appeared with a flower crown made of sunflower and put it on top of your head. "There, now the flower is wearing flowers!" Jiung said as he giggled and booped your nose.

End of flashback

You were already tearing up at the sweet memory when you mom tapped your shoulder for you to exit the train with your parents.

This place looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't wrap your head around where you've seen it, so you decided to wait until you reached the house you were staying at to try and ask someone.

You arrived at the house and as soon as your parents knocked the door opened revealing a couple around your parents' age who welcomed you sweetly.

"And you must be their Child! You're so pretty!" The lady said as she pulled you in a hug.

"I'm sure you'd love to meet my son! He's around your age! TAEYANG!" She yelled with full force. And Taeyang? You were sure you knew someone named like that, but who?

The boy came down stairs and immediately recognized you as he hugged you and told his and your parents that he was going with you to his room.

"Hey! You remember me right? I'm Taeyang, Jiung's cousin!" So that's why you knew him.

"Oh! I do remember you! How are you? I haven't seen you in so long!" You said as you tried to get the conversation going.

"I'm great! Even better now that I'm seeing you! You've grown!" He said with a smile. You both kept talking for a while until he mention Jiung.

"So you're probably wondering why Jiung hasn't beeb talking to you or why he didn't tell you anything about the reason he was moving right?" He asked as he looked at you with his doe eyes.

"Well, yeah, but he probably wanted to cut me off no?" You asked as if it was obvious.

"Do you really think he'd do that? No, he's not like that, he didn't tell you anything, because he knew he wouldn't be strong enough to not break down when he saw you! It wasn't his best decision, but well it's done right?" He said with a conforting smile.

"I appreciate the information Tae, but why are you telling me all of this?" You asked as you were genuinely curious about this random outburst about his cousin.

"Well, I knew you were coming and I also knew about his situation, so I may or may not have invited him over for you guys to talk." He said so fast that if you weren't so invested in this you wouldn't have caught a word he said.

"You what? I haven't talked to him in over 3 years! Tae it's going to be awkward!" You said sounding desperate.

"Calm down! Everything is going to go well! And he hasn't changed! He's still the same as he was when he lived near you! The only difference is that he lives near me now!" Taeyang said in hopes to comfort you.

A few hours had passed and you heard the doorbell ring.

"Oh my god, Tae it's him!" You said as you nervously paced around the room.

"Calm down things are going to go well I promise! And he's gonna come up stairs. If you need anything shout, I'm going to be in the living room!" Tae said as he exited the room to invite Jiung inside.

You were a nervous wreck, but you were still curious about how Jiung would look now, probably more mature was your guess, and as he entered the room you realized your guess was absolutely right.

"Y/n" Jiung said as he ran in your direction and picked you up in his arms. You were so overwhelmed you started crying and you didn't miss the fact that Jiung also shed a few tears of his own.

"I missed you so much!" Jiung said as he let you down on the floor to look at you.

"I missed you too, but why did you avoid me? Why did you hide everything from me?" Although Taeyang had already given you the answer you still wanted to hear the answer from him.

"I was stupid and I didn't tell you because I knew that if I told you I wouldn't be strong enough to actually move, it would be harder so I thought it would be the best for the both of us, But I was so wrong! I missed you everyday!" He said with glossy eyes.

"Oh Jiung I missed you too!" You said as you teared up again and wrapped you arms around him.

When you guys both calmed down you went to the living room where Taeyang was staying.

"So are you guys ok? Are you friends again? Something more?" Taeyang asked as he said the last part softly so only Jiung would hear.

"Yes we're good now! But Me and Y/n are going for a walk, we'll be back before dinner." Jiung announced as you both went out of the door.

You were just catching up while walking until Jiung stopped at the flower field you'd seen while in the train.

"Wanna know something? I came here everytime I missed you badly, because this flower field really looks like the one next to your house!" Jiung admitted as he mitioned for you to come with him.

"Actually, when I was in train I saw this field through the window and I thought back to us playing hide and seek and that one time you made that flower crown for me." You said shyly as you weren't playing attention to Jiung's actions, but when you saw him again you noticed him walking towards you with a sunflower crown.

"Jiung, that's so cute!" You said as he put it on your head the same way he did when you were kids.

"Now the flower is wearing flowers!" He said just like before as he booped you nose.

"Oh my god, I miss when we were kids!" You said as Jiung sat down next to you.

"Yeah, I also miss living next to you! I was so sad my mom got a promotion, I just wanted to live near you!" He said as he scooted closer to you.

"Maybe in the future we'll be able to live close!" You said as the both of you moved backwards to rest your backs against a tree.

"Yeah maybe!" Jiung said as he gave you a knowing smile.

"Ok, I've been keeping this in for like 5 years so I need to let it out!" Jiung exclaimed.

"Go ahead Ji!" You said calmly.

"I like you, well, that's a lie. I love you in a romantic way. And honestly it's okay if you don't feel the same I just needed to tell you!" Jiung said as he was now blushing furiously and you think you were too.

"I actually love you too Jiung. I have since a few years now. And when you left I was so heartbroken, because I thought I'd never see you again." You confessed while looking straight in his eyes.

"But now I'm here and we could do something about these feelings, that is if you want to of course." He said shyly.

"I'd love to, but we're gonna have to do a long distance relationship." You said sadly.

"And what if I tell you we don't?" He said in a questioning way.

"What do you mean? We live quite far from each other." You said while confusion was written all over your face.

"I'm moving again! My mom found a stable job back in your city! We're gonna be able to meet everyday almost all the time!" He said and as he finished his sentence you threw yourself in his arms.

"Jiung that's literally the best thing you could've told me! I love you so much!" You said as you hugged him tighter and felt him kiss your head gently.

"I love you too, so much, you have no idea." He said as he looked deep in your eyes, grabbed your cheek gently and leaned in to kiss you, but before he could reach your lips he lifted his eyebrows as a way to ask for permission to which you granted by nodding and Jiung then kissed you softly.

You guys broke apart after a few seconds to make eye contact and you smiled sweetly at each other, a smile that showed your feelings for one another completely.

"I love you." You said as you smiled at Jiung.

"I love you too." Jiung said as he smiled and leaned in to kiss you again.

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I hope you guys enjoyed it! Specially my bestie, my first Tumblr friend @newkyumilk! Everyone go wish her a happy birthday! And In Korea it's already Jiung day, so happy birthday to our hardworking Jiung 💖💖💖

Have a great day/afternoon/night! I love you 💖💖💖

#p1harmony #p1harmony fluff #p1h scenarios #p1h imagines #choi jiung #jiung x reader #p1harmony jiung #p1h jiung #jiung fluff

[satorinni]

𝕞𝕦𝕥𝕖

track 18: feelings?

Kenma has never really been a people person. Yeah, over the years he’s gotten better with ‘human interaction’ , but he would still prefer to be alone. There were very few people whose company he didn’t mind, and recently he had been contemplating whether you should be added to the list. Though that idea has been teetering in and out of his mind given the fact you two hadn’t actually hung out in person.  Actually, save for the one pants-less interaction, neither of you had ever been in the same room together. But still, he kinda likes you. More than a friend, he’d like to think. Though the idea scared the fuck out of him, he would actually like to take you on a real date. One that didn’t result in your dinner being up in flames. 

Maybe he’d even take you to a cutesy café in Tokyo. Like the one he was currently sitting in. Eating apple pie. Across from a girl. A girl who definitely wasn’t you. 

“Honestly, I don’t know why you didn’t just become a model.” After the photoshoot, Etsuko insisted on getting a bite to eat. Something about wanting to catch up because it’s been a whole year. He didn’t really understand why, he knew for a fact Kuroo called her every time something juicy happened to him. Whatever that meant. Besides, he couldn’t turn down a slice of his favorite food.

“Because wearing stupid clothes and standing in front of a camera for hours is not my ideal career, ‘Tsuko.” He took another bite of what was left of his slice. He’s glad he chose to sit in a booth away from the windows, he had already been recognized twice on the way here. It’s why he did his best to avoid walking through the city. Especially dressed like this.

“C’mon, Kenmaaaa, the button up is cute. You look like a businessman.” She snorts through her smoothie straw. 

“I am a businessman. I’m quite literally a CEO.” He gives her a deadpan stare before taking a sip from his own milkshake. “I don’t know how your rooster boy manages to wear this stupid getup 24/7. I’m suffocating in these slacks.” He’d been pulling at the tight-fitting pants all day, but the magazine suggested he look professional for the shoot.

“What’s the matter, Kenma? Too much junk in the front?” Etsuko wiggles her eyebrows at him. She always did have the dirtiest mind. 

“Gross, ‘tsuko.” He squints at her and shakes his head. 

“Speaking of your little fella, when was the last time you got laid, baby boy?” Despite her suggestive tone, Kenma knew she was genuinely curious. She was the one who told him what sex was anyway. Gross, he shudders at the memory. 

“Is that an offer, ‘Tsuko?” He knew it wasn’t, and he knew even if it was the answer would be no, but he was deflecting. 

“Only if you let me post it on the hub.” She winks at him and slurps at her empty cup for emphasis. “Quit deflecting, Kenma, I heard about your lil boo thang.” She cracks up at her own joke and asks the waiter for a refill. 

Kenma scrunches his nose in disgust. “Don’t call her that.” Yeah, you guys weren’t dating, and yeah, you probably didn’t even know he liked you, but still. 

“Look at you, defending her honor, how sweet.” She mockingly shakes her head at every word. “I heard you stole her from little rooster boy.” She leans in towards him, like it was some big secret.

“Of course he exaggerated that, he’s the one who set her food on fire. Besides, she texted me first.” He recounts the way he freaked the fuck out when he saw you texted him. His demeanor was always more calm over the internet, probably why he had millions of fans, but he was still an antisocial wreck IRL.

“Ahh, so she’s ballsy, huh. Who knew little Kenma liked bold girls? Tell me about her.” She leans her head into her palm. To anyone else she would’ve dropped it already, losing interest. But this was Kenma, she was always poking her nose into his business. 

“She’s a med student, same age as me. Friend of a friend, I guess. “ He shrugs. He figured that would keep her dormant enough to change the subject. 

“You got yourself a smarty pants. Cute, but that’s not what I wanted to know.” She raises her eyebrow at him. “Do you like her? Is this just a hump and dump? You gonna marry her?” Her eyes got wider with every question, it kinda freaked him out. 

Damn, he thought he could dodge it, but Etsie has always been super pushy. “I don’t know. I mean I'm definitely not gonna hit it & quit it. I haven’t even hung out with her for real.  And dude, I’m 23, m’not thinking about marrying anyone at the moment.” He held his breath and figured that was enough. He was not ready to admit it out loud yet.

“Ah ah ah, you skipped a question, baby boy.” She gives him a devilish grin and leans in even closer. “I won’t tell a soul.”

Okay, even if she was a bit much, Etsuko never spilled Kenma’s secrets. To anyone. Not even Kuroo. But it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. It was just... Was he ready to admit he had feelings? It's only been a few months, and he hadn’t even spoken to you in person. So what if he texted and called you 24/7? Wouldn’t it be too early? You’d probably be freaked out if he went ahead and confessed his feelings so early on. 

Ah, fuck it. 

“Yeah, ‘Tsuko. I like her. Like a lot. She’s funny as hell, smart as shit, and she gets me. Plus she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. Like, prettier than you.” He knows that would probably offend any other girl, but he was only ever straight up with ‘Tsuko.

“EEK!” Etsuko lets out a pig squeal that has other customers staring in confusion. She balls her fists up and starts shaking aggressively. “My baby boy has a crush! EEK! I’m so proud of you.” She leans over the whole table and grabs Kenma’s face, placing a loud kiss on his forehead. 

He flicks her forehead and smiles. “Shut up, it’s not like this is the first crush I’ve ever had.”

“I take pride in being your first crush, little bro.” She places her hand on her chest in mock pain, but the grin on her face exposes itself. 

“When you put it like that it sounds like incest. I was 8, you weirdo. ” Both were true, when Kenma first met Etsuko he developed a crush on her. (Mostly because she was the only girl who he’d ever interacted with.) It only lasted a month anyway; he eventually got annoyed with how much her and her brother were at his house. Now, after 15 years of being stuck with Kuroo, Kenma could only ever see them both as the siblings he never had. 

“Still, I was your first love, Kenma.” She looks off dramatically into the distance, as if she was having a flashback.

“You’re gay.” The smirk on his face gives off his slight amusement with her stupidly dramatic antics. 

“Now, “ She slams her hands on the table, causing more people to stare and the silverware to rattle, “Aren’t you going to ask me about my lovelife?” 

“No, I don’t care.” He snorts at the hurt look on her face. 

“Well, my girlfriend is doing WONDERFUL, Kozume Kenma, thanks for asking.” She crosses her arms and sticks her nose in the air.

“Yeah, whatever, you’re paying.” He pulls out his phone to see if there are any texts from you. On cue, the notification on his phone displays your name. He grins down at the unopened text, not even bothering to hide his happiness from Etsuko. 

Mid-rant about how he should pay because he’s got all the money, she stops and stares at him. A soft smile appears on her face, a swell of pride shoots through her. She only ever saw Kenma as a baby brother, and was genuinely happy for his growth over the years. 

Suddenly, Kenma’s phone flashes with your contact, a facetime call from you. 

“I gotta take this.” He moves to sit up, but looks up at Etsuko at the last second. 

She grins and nods towards the door. 

“Go get em, tiger.”

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: kozume kenma x medstudent!f!reader

𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: send an ask to be added!

𝕤𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: enroute to being a neurosurgeon, y/n l/n doesn’t have time for fun, let alone dating. after her friends set her up on a blind date gone wrong, she comes face 2 face with none other than her date’s best friend. her world flips on axis, and suddenly she has no idea how her brain works, or love-at-first-sight.

𝕒/𝕟: this was probably rlly poorly written LMFOAD

taglist!

@katsuki-bakuhoee @sirachano0dles @qwir-0 @sailorstrawberi @calumsfringe @oppositesunchild @akioaly @aikochan4859 @drownedbytears @buttermasterbillie @vvenusblue @bluefaeriefury @ktzuki @mirikusashes @tsukibaby @toaster-stick @woohoney @just-snog-already @adorable-punk-superheroes @nikanikabitch @starrywriteshaikyuu @acabbaybee @theblueslytherin @sakusasupremacist @waywardcowboyllamavoid @rintaoreo @immxnty @noliamallpayne @sadcosmicdoggie @aizumii @c-o-n-q-u-e-r @sunahyejin @zaedynnn @triskoof @bakugouswh0r3 @ilauvcoldpizza @tina-98 @izzy28901 @kookie-doughs @black-rose-29 @moonlightaangel @kakamihasatmblr

#mute #social media au #smau #kenma kozume #haikyuu!! smau #kozume kenma #kenma kozume x reader #kenma smau #kenma x reader #kenma kozume smau #kozume x reader #kozume kenma smau

[fraks]

LEVERAGE REDEMPTION 1x15 THE MUDDY WATERS JOB

- i can't believe this is the first part of the finale already. @cminerva and i have been speculating about the finale since the episode titles + descriptions were released. well, since before that, really, but the titles and descriptions gave us so much fodder, oh god. my prediction was that they'd do another first/second david job that would wreck us completely. so. you know.

- i watched all eight eps in a row, the night they were released, but @cminerva only got to watch the first two, so i had be very vague and spoiler-free in the texts i sent her when all i wanted to do was YELL, but once i got to the finale, i couldn't possibly be vague anymore, so i stated typing up my reactions in a notes file. that's gonna be super useful for this post now.

- ok let's do this! harry's daughter sneaking out, interesting start. harry's ex is beautiful. but jesus she REALLY traded down.

- harry delivering their mail. :') and eliot fixing the place up. EVERYONE IS SO AT HOME AT THE BASE. 😍 omg sophie's wearing a shirt that could definitely belong to harry.

- uhhhh wasn't tom baker nate's alias? side-eyeing the writers tbh. miss river song—hardison c'mon. LMAO TEDDY BEAR. harry and soph are so delighted, i love it. fjsjfhskdjfjjdjdjd "MISS SOPHIE DEVEREAUX, FROM ALL THE WAY FROM ACROSS THE POND!" harry your accent is ATROCIOUS. but THEY'RE FLIRTING!!! "stop it!" fjakfbskfjksfj HELP ME I AM DYING HERE. (now we've had him saying her name while she's actually in the room, but in a horrible accent, so like. all i want is one soft "sophie" right to her face. bonus points if they're naked.)

- "i need to give you some dialect lessons." - "i'll take 'em." i'm sure you will, harry. 😏 the only time i was ever this eager to learn things from someone was when i was head over heels in love with them, so. just saying.

- nooooooooo. sophie can't leave. SHE CANNOT. ugh parker's reaction is everything. she loves sophie so much and has been fighting to keep her with them since 1x01. and i don't think sophie has realised how much it really means to parker to have her there.

- i also live for harry's reaction. he's so crushed because he thought they had something. not the something he wants, but a friendship, at least. and she just talks so casually about leaving them all behind it crushes him. you can actually SEE his heart breaking.

- and then later he sends parker off with eliot and specifically assigns sophie and himself to a task, TOGETHER. i'm guessing he either hopes he can change her mind or, failing that, he wants to spend what little time they have with her before she goes.

- but first, harry's daughter shows up. lmao because she used the tracking app harry tried to sneak onto her phone to track HIM. :') i like breanna's nerd girlfriend, but if they'd made becky a few years older, breanna would currently be falling all over herself trying to impress HER instead. (yes, this was originally on my wishlist for s2. also yes, i am okay with not getting it.)

- "he never did business with really bad people like—" - "...like i did?" CALLED IT. @cminerva and i figured the strain in their relationship would have been harry's work, and not just the many hours of it, but more that he defended so many evil people. "i get it." oh maaaan it KILLS him to know his daughter thinks so badly of him. because he IS a good man, at his core.

- "what, was the monopoly man busy?" gjajfjskfjekd PARKER!!!

- lmao harry defends ethan so eagerly, sophie's little smirk makes me think SHE thinks harry and ethan might have been an item. before he drops the bombshell of ethan being married to harry's ex, that is.

- breanna going on strike is... idk, i'm torn. it's obviously mostly played for laughs, giving harry and sophie the task of hacking (😂), but also, the last time they weren't sure what to do, they voted, and the majority won. there was never any talk of strikes? it feels kind of weird and ooc to me that breanna just says no and basically abandons them, especially after harry's asked for help. and her attitude about the whole thing... not helping.

- but lmao harry planning to learn hacking from the binders. what a NERD. a clueless, naïve nerd, but a nerd nonetheless.

- "how hard can it be, hacking?" oh sophie, sweetie.

- lmfao "stupid little lawyer man." - "breanna!" - "i did something wrong..." you think, harry? 😂

- omg when eliot and parker come back to the base and ask what happened, sophie says "we (!) tried our hand at hacking", but harry points to himself while she says it. this is one of the many, many reasons why i love this character: he's so absolutely willing to own up to his mistakes—not just the big, obvious ones they're all trying to redeem him from, but just the small ones, too, and i think that's mostly noah's acting choices, i doubt any of that is scripted. it's making me very emotional because it's obvious noah loves this character, too. and the WAY he takes the blame for the things he did wrong just reinforces my headcanon of anxiety disorder harry who has had therapy.

- you REALLY left harry for this dude, grace? really? i mean i know looks don't mean anything in the long run, but jeeeeesus. this dude doesn't even come across as a good guy.

- lmfao parker carding harry i cannot. "oh look, he's human." i love her.

- that red top on sophie looks amazing. my wishlist for s2 had her in another red dress, but i'll take this, too. red on sophie is just... [chef's kiss]

- OUCH. that ethan guy is a piece of work. "i believe in being civil." okay two things. a) i like that harry doesn't, idk, hate his ex and that he didn't make it hard for her to leave and find someone else, someone even he considered "better", cause even back then, he KNEW what he was doing was wrong. b) but also, this "being civil" thing i think might just have been another symptom of his attitude of "never picking a side". it's a really easy way to make sure nothing ever touches you, that no one can ever blame you. if he HAD fought for his ex and made it hard for her to leave him, she could have thrown that back in his face. by staying "neutral" (or as he calls it "civil", cause lbr, there is no true "neutral" in a breakup like that), he made sure none of the immediate blame could fall on him. SHE left him. SHE asked for a divorce. stuff like that. but he knows now that it was precisely that, his INaction, that put the final nail in the coffin of his marriage. which ties in very nicely with what he says to sophie in that one scene in jackal job.

- "probably doesn't hurt that because of me, you don't have to pay alimony or child support." YOU LITTLE TWAT. harry has made a LOT of mistakes in his life, but i don't believe for a second that he would've minded paying alimony, let alone child support. i mean, he's a lawyer, for god's sake. if he'd wanted a pre-nup that would've kept him from paying alimony, he probably could've had one. and we KNOW he's loaded. and especially now, he no longer cares about the money. i mean, he's been living in a room in a slightly run-down old theatre with four housemates, basically, instead of staying at his presumably huge and fancy own apartment or house.

- another "sophie". i want harry to say her name all the time thanks. 😭

- EVERYONE EATING TOGETHER AGAIN! lol i can no longer watch these guys (or any other fictional characters) eat chinese food without thinking about the audio commentary for the original show. 😍

- oooh good plan, parker. you go to the platform and take eliot and breanna with you. it'll give harry and sophie some time alone. 😏

- "the security of my family" u g h harry listen. your daughter is your family, OBVIOUSLY. but your ex is not. if anything, this TEAM is your family now. this is what @cminerva i were afraid of, that by making harry's ex's husband a bad guy / mark, the writers would open the door for harry to go back to his ex. and i'm 100% against that, and not only because i ship h/s. that's not even my main reason, actually, though i will admit it plays a big role. no, the main reason is that harry is a different person now. and going back to his ex would throw him back into a life that he once had but left, even just by NOT acting when she left him. and if he's back in that situation again, well. it's very easy to fall back into old patterns once you're back in a familiar environment, isn't it? i'm not saying his ex would drive him to doing bad things, or that she did that when he first went crooked. no, that was HIS choice. but thanks to harry and now ethan, she's always had a certain standard of living that she no doubt wants to keep, and harry would fall over backwards trying to make that happen, and lbr, these guys don't exactly make money from conning bad guys. as far as we know, the original team still lives off their one big score from nigerian job, personally. hardison probably makes sure leverage international has some income for bases and clothes and props and whatnot, but personally, i doubt these guys would take so much as a penny from a mark if that penny could instead go towards helping people. so harry has not had any official income since the beginning of the season. he probably has assets that generate income for him, but the money he got from being a lawyer was probably his main source. and he'd want to make his ex happy, so he'd probably slip back into doing bad things, and i DO NOT WANT THAT FOR HIM. my little baby thief who's been working so, so hard on his redemption.

- SOPHIE WITH A PONYTAIL. i was so looking forward to this and it's just as hot as i expected. what is even hotter than i expected is that PINSTRIPE VEST SHE'S WEARING.

- "why would you be covered in oil?" ghskfhsifhkehfkejf 😂 it only just occurred to me that these bits are 4th wall breaks, in a way. i just hadn't realised because they're DONE SO WELL. (i ususally hate 4th wall breaks.)

- "oil happens." gjskfbksfnksbfjefbjdnfjeke I CANNOT.

- lol i have absolutely no notes about this upcoming h/s scene from the first time i watched the ep, so i'm guessing i was too overwhelmed.

- "i thought i might find you here." SHE LOOKS SO GOOD. and she knows where his ex lives, which i assume is where they used to live together.

- "when i lost grace, i reconciled myself to the fact that i lost her to a better man. a decent man. maybe i didn't deserve her." OUCH. and exactly what i suspected. there's no way that this wonderful, wonderful man doesn't have anxiety over all the bad things he's done.

- "is that it? have you been seeking redemption for grace and becky?" GOT IT IN ONE, SOPH.

- "if you can't use the law as a guideline to show you what's morally right and wrong, then what do you have?" a) leverage asking the TOUGHEST questions since 2008. b) he's not wrong. c) i don't think i can imagine HOW hard it must be for him, this whole redemption process. i mean, he knows he did the wrong things. but how does he know that? because it FELT wrong. and because he saw other people's pain. and then because the crew has been telling him. but the law, the thing he's spent his entire life on, tells him the exact opposite. so all this time, all these months now that he's been with the leverage team, there has always been a part of him that has told him what he's doing NOW is wrong. because it's against the law. and i think a part of him is always going to be struggling with that if he stays with the team.

- "mr. wilson, i think you need to recalibrate your entire thinking about morality. life isn't always as clear-cut as we'd like. life's complicated." THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE DEFINING QUOTE. OF THIS ENTIRE SHOW.

- "how did you recalibrate your thinking about morality?" - "well. there is honour amongst thieves. i started there." i am SOBBING. i know this episode and this entire season really is about harry, but my GOD. sophie has grown SO much, since nigerian job obviously but also since the end of leverage 1.0 and even since the beginning of 2.0—so, so much. talking about harry and his arc comes to me fairly easily, but talking about sophie is just. hard. she means so much to me. i might come back to this in another post. i do want to talk more about her arc in this entire season.

- on a more shallow note, JEEEEESUS gina is gorgeous. and idk if that was a coincidence or ~filming magic, but it's overcast in this scene EXCEPT for the moment when sophie says "there's honour amongst thieves". it's not a lot, but you can tell that the sun comes peeking out for that one second and hits her face and she just GLOWS. JFC.

- also i know it probably doesn't mean anything, but when sophie leaves, the way harry turns and looks back at what i assume is his old house (i.e. his ex and his old life), then turns back to sophie and looks at her and then walks after her DOES THINGS TO ME. it could be such a beautiful metaphor for the way he's being torn in half.

- awwwwman, the kids talking about sophie leaving. "she's gotta find out who she is." !!!!!! I JUST!!!!! i think i've got something about this in my "yell at @cminerva" notes for the next ep, so i'll just. stop for now. but i have all the feelings anyone has ever had about this.

- nooooo i think harry just got all dressed up to meet his ex. GDI WRITERS WHAT ARE YOU DOING.

- yeaaaah they've just tanked the ot3. i am UPSET. "i've always admired you and hardison's relationship." AS IF YOU'RE NOT PART OF THAT RELATIONSHIP YOU DUMMY.

- "i think the reason hardison and i work so well is because he's the first person who saw me. i mean, he really knew me." is such a sweet thing to say, parker.

- awwww but. that was an eliot+parker scene that would be SUPER cute family vibes if it weren't for that bitter anti-ot3 aftertaste...

- LMFAO SOPHIE IS HAVING ELIOT'S BABY 😂 i know at least one (1) person who will appreciate this tidbit. i love how sophie just like, goes with the "sweetheart". you can almost SEE her thought process. "ah, eliot's not alone. guess i'm having his baby!" and lmfao breanna "baby?" dhakhfksbdjejd

- harry doing actual lawyering in court? HOT AF. i don't have a secret thing for lawyers or the law, but watching someone—anyone—be super competent is always crazy attractive. (yes, this show makes me sweat a lot.)

- lmfao "how did you meet the missus? was it romantic?" what this episode DESPERATELY needs here is a flashback to the first time eliot saw sophie, playing lady macbeth in chicago back in nigerian job, and a shot of his horrified face.

- ugh harry don't run after grace. if this were any other show, or fanfic, grace would now ask harry about that gorgeous woman in the red dress. "oh grow up, harry. what did you think was going to happen? i was going to leave him and come running back to you?" wow maybe it was harry who deserved better all along. yes, it was naïve and frankly wrong of him to assume or even hope for this. but it was a GENUINE hope, a genuine wish, and i can't blame him for that. if he really HAS been trying to find redemption so his ex would come back to him (which i don't think he has—maybe that was part of it for him, but he's been wanting to be better for himself, too, and above all, for his daughter), it's going to be even harder going forward, knowing that outcome he hoped for isn't going to happen.

- "where's harry? all his stuff is gone, he cleaned out his room." oh shit they're doing it THEY'RE REALLY GOING THERE THIS IS FIRST DAVID ALL OVER AGAIN, ONLY IN REVERSE. oh jesus christ i did not expect this.

- PARKER+SOPHIE CUDDLE I CAN'T. 😭 I LOVE THESE PEOPLE SO MUCH. "you always knew that this was gonna be my last tour. i'm just not the same person i used to be. i need to go and figure out who the person is that i'm going to be." I AM A WRECK THANKS.

- and so is eliot ugh. these people threw him a baby shower like, YESTERDAY. leverage redemption really not pulling ANY punches, are they?

- oh fuck. OH FUCK. "well, let's just say that i've decided to recalibrate my entire way of thinking about morality." OH FUUUCK.

#leverage #leverage redemption #the muddy waters job #harry wilson #sophie devereaux #tv: leverage #ship: harry x sophie #liveblogging #redemption spoilers #leverage redemption spoilers #leverage spoilers #spoilers

[nevertherose]

One Hundred Seconds to Midnight: Chapters 1-8

"All Roman wanted to do was take Logan on a Doctor Who LARP within the Imagination.

But with Thomas's Sides at their figurative breaking point after the disastrous wedding, the Imagination may just have a few ideas of her own..."

Hello, Tumblr fanders, it has been a while since I've poked around in here...mostly because, I've been writing another story!

Do you like Sanders Sides? Do you like Doctor Who? Do you like the idea of the Sides playing Doctor Who characters? If so, this story was written especially for you.

I found that the process of cross-posting Mahogany and Teakwood across three platforms, one chapter at a time, involved a lot of me spending too many hours squinting at html code. Not especially fun. This time around, I've only been posting on AO3 and Wattpad.

But I wanted it to exist here as well.

So! Today I'm going to post the first half (in two posts, because apparently Tumblr has a post size limit, who knew?), all the chapters that are up so far. Then, when the whole story is up on the other platforms, I'll post the other half.

Of course, you could head to either AO3 or Wattpad, if you want to read as the chapters go up.

But if you're like me, and like to read stories in nice, big, juicy chunks...here you go:

One Hundred Seconds to Midnight

Chapter 1- The Eleventh Hour

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m still cooking.”

Midnight.

The witching hour.

Or was that 3AM? Roman wondered. No, that’s the devil’s hour…damn it, Virgil! You had to get them all mixed up!

It was nearly midnight on the Imagination’s border.

Moonlight, pearlescent and brighter than it could ever shine in the real world, streamed feather-light through the tall windows on Roman’s side of the Dream Palace. It made patterns of light and shadow over the black marble floors, made nighttime caricatures of the white ivory statues that lined the corridor.

Roman’s heeled boots echoed in the silence; Logan’s dress shoes, in comparison, were whisper-quiet.

Logan himself had been uncharacteristically quiet since they entered this place, Roman noted, glancing back. Normally by now the logical Side would have asked a million questions, made a million plans, or be several bullet points into a lecture about palace construction or the history of measurement units or some other nerdy, obscure subject.

And Roman would either pretend to be annoyed, or would interject witty counterpoints to make Logan stop and bluster and…

But not tonight.

Maybe he’s nervous about being here, Roman told himself, smoothing a hand over his red sash. He’s only pointed out a million times that Logic and the Imagination are anathema to one another. Maybe I should have planned something else…

Or maybe he’s just annoyed at you for dragging him out of bed in the literal middle of the night, a more insidious inner voice whispered. When you know he likes to keep a consistent sleep schedule.

Roman pressed his lips together, lifted his chin…he might be a mere facet of a single personality, but he was also a Prince, and Princes do not listen to inner demons. However, he also looked back for the dozenth time to make sure Logan was actually still following.

That was the only reason Roman kept looking back.

It had nothing to do with the way the translucent moonlight caught the other Side’s dark, immaculately kept hair, or glinted off his glasses.

In the real world, of course, and whenever they manifested near their Source, the Sides all had precisely the same face and body as Thomas. But deep inside the mind, where physical appearance was an illusion anyway, the Sides exercised much more control.

Thomas remained their base template, but each Side also tended to portray himself with features that Thomas associated with their core function. Like Patton’s fluffy curls and childlike freckles, or Virgil’s anxious, ever-changing eyeshadow, or Remus’s abominable comic-book villain mustache.

Like Deceit’s…no, Janus’s very real scales.

Damn that snake. Why did I have think of him now?

Hopefully the lying bananaconda had better things to do than pop up and spoil things tonight. Because tonight, Roman was finally fulfilling a longtime promise to Logan, and taking him on a grand adventure.

The thought made his heart flutter in anticipation, and he looked back again.

Logan within the mindscape was leaner than Thomas, an inch or two taller, and his neatly trimmed hair and intelligent eyes were almost black in the low light. His face was narrow and intense, the nose more aquiline, and he had a habit of standing straighter than any of the rest of them.

(A habit which constantly showed off his trim waist and chest muscles…not that Roman paid any attention to that…)

Roman, by contrast, was a bit shorter, but his shoulders were broad and he was more muscular, due to all the questing and sword fighting he did here in the Imagination. He wore his hair in longish disarray that paired devastatingly with his clean, square jawline; hair that could be turned loose and wild on quests, or pulled neatly back as befitted royalty. His hands were strong; with long, artistic fingers, as skilled at wielding pens and paintbrushes as they were at wielding swords.

He liked to think he was handsome.

He was also painfully aware of how little it mattered when a certain someone…ehem…never seemed to notice.

“Roman, I confess to still being a bit lost as to the purpose of this journey,” Logan said at last, breaking the high-ceilinged silence. “You said you were taking us on a…’lark’? If so, why are we wandering around the Dream Palace?”

“LARP,” Roman corrected, flashing him a smile. “L-A-R-P. It stands for live action role play, Specs.”

Logan’s nose wrinkled at the words “role play”, and Roman’s stomach lurched. He hates it, he hates the very idea of it, you haven’t even started yet and you’ve already failed…

“Oh, don’t make the scrunchy face!” he added, a bit louder than necessary, and waved a hand. “At least wait until you’ve seen it.”

Roman had only been planning this for weeks.

“You know, when you promised to take me on one of your ‘adventures’,” Logan said, making finger quotes. “I was not expecting to be roused from bed in the middle of the night.”

“That’s because this isn’t your average adventure.” Roman gestured around them. “I constructed a special dreamscape to get all the details right, and we can only use the Dream Palace when Thomas is asleep.” He turned and dared a wink. “Only the best for you, my detail-oriented friend.”

Logan adjusted his glasses.

“Let it be known that I am indulging your antics right now because you have, on occasion, had some good ideas. You will, in turn, have to indulge my skepticism.”

“I have no idea what you just said, but I’m gonna pretend it was a compliment,” Roman said with a wink, which Logan rolled his eyes at.

“Ah ha, here we are!”

Roman stopped at a set of iconic blue doors, nearly vibrating in excitement as he waited for Logan to recognize them.

The nerd did not disappoint.

“Roman…” Logan murmured, stepping forward to touch the white PULL TO OPEN sign. “They look just like the doors to the TARDIS. The attention to detail is exquisite. But why?”

“Because I’m taking you on a Doctor Who LARP!” Roman exclaimed, flapping his hands. “All we have to do is step through, and the Imagination will make us Doctor and companion, and whisk us away through all of time and space!”

Logan’s face was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “Again…why?”

“Because it will be fun?” Roman bit his lip, looking at his toes. “I…I know you aren’t into swords and sorcery and dragon-witches and whatnot. I wanted this to be something you might actually enjoy.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, as it often did when he tried to process something that didn’t fit neatly into his graphed, notated, logical worldview.

Usually, it was an emotion.

“But won’t us enacting such an intense scenario at this time of night negatively affect Thomas’s sleep?” Logan asked.

“That’s the genius of adventuring in the Dream Palace,” Roman explained. “You can do hyperreal, immersive stuff, and if Thomas does happen to remember anything, he’ll just think he had a weird dream. The worst that could happen is he might post about it on Twitter.”

“Hmm. I can see you’ve thought this through. I am…flattered that you went to all the trouble,” Logan said in a quiet voice.

Roman had to bite back an ecstatic giggle.

Not…not because of the way his nerves skittered below his skin when his gaze caught Logan’s black eyes and soft expression. No, Roman was merely…excited! That someone like Logan appreciated his hard work!

It wasn’t like he was trying to impress anyone, like some middle school boy with, you know, a crush or whatever. For the last, well…two years.

…and then some.

Ugh. There was little point in denying his feelings; he’d only accidentally summon Janus and his oily smirk, and if that happened, Roman would most certainly die of embarrassment and that was not a lie, thank you very much.

The truth was, ever since Thomas had placed that jar of Crofters into Logan’s hands and inspired him to sing…not just rap, or begrudgingly harmonize, but actually sing…Roman had fallen, and fallen hard.

How could he not?

Logan’s words and ideas had always challenged him, pushed him to be smarter, sharper, better, just to keep up. Logan was the grounding anchor to his sails, the clarity to his excess. It used to infuriate Roman, the way he and Logan always came at problems from opposite sides and fought, sometimes bitterly, over the best way to meet in the middle.

But now?

Now Roman relished the way they traded words in a good fight, like blades in the hands of expert swordsmen. Logan, despite his dislike for anything fanciful, was a natural wordsmith…and Roman was a great lover of poetry. Even better, it seemed like Logan was also starting to enjoy their verbal sparring matches…

And then these last few months had happened.

The Decision, and Deceit, and the way that snake had let Remus out of the shadows to wreck havoc, and then the disastrous wedding itself…and Roman knew that Logan, through all of it, had been feeling pushed aside.

Goodness knew the logical Side hadn’t deserved to be shoved to the back of a courtroom, or relegated to a pixel-y shadow of himself before being removed from the discussion entirely. Worse, in both of those scenarios, Roman had either done nothing…or actively made things worse.

Roman knew he was guilty of letting his mouth run wild in his zeal to solve Thomas’s dilemmas…or in desperately hiding his true feelings. He knew his nicknames often came with barbs, his insults sometimes hit too close to home, that he often ignored or dismissed Logan’s cool, much-needed perspective.

He knew he needed to be better.

I’ll make it up to him tonight, Roman told himself as he laid a hand on the rough wooden blue doors and glanced back at Logan. The logical Side nodded, giving Roman a tiny burst of confidence.

He’ll get to play his favorite character and be his best nerdy self. This is going to be great!

Roman took a breath, and shoved open the TARDIS doors.

Chapter 2- Human Nature

“It’s all becoming clear now. The Doctor is doing the things you’d like to be doing.”

The blaring of a dozen sirens burst in Logan’s ears.

He was yanked across the threshold, Roman’s hand practically a vice around his wrist. Logan inhaled the sharp scent of metal and warm electronics, and a million figurative lights went off in his brain.

Being the physical incarnation of Logic, this wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar sensation.

The TARDIS shuddered…wait, TARDIS? We’re actually on the TARDIS?…under impact. Lights flashed; reds and greens over an ambiance of steely blue-gray, and Logan knew exactly what to do.

He shook free of Roman’s grip and strode to the center console…console, how do I know this is a console?…flipping several switches and turning the green dial to precisely 3.56 degrees to offset the radiation sheer from the M-class star they’d just spun past.

Because naturally they happened to be careening through an asteroid field.

The time rotor rose and dipped, Gallifreyan symbols whirling overhead; Logan adjusted shields and dodged rocks, striding confidently from station to station. He guided his TARDIS around the last large asteroid, one that easily could have smashed his beloved ship to bits, and then they were clear.

The TARDIS chimed reassuringly under his hands, relieved to be in empty space again.

Roman screamed.

The sound echoed off the metallic walls, causing Logan to whip around and nearly lose his balance.

“What happened?” he said sharply, leaving the console. The creative Side stood near the railing, staring down at himself in obvious dismay. “What’s wrong?”

“Look at me, Logan!” Roman said shrilly and gesturing at his body. “Just look!”

Logan examined his fellow Side. There were no obvious injuries he could see, no blood, no bruising, nothing that would merit a scream. There was just Roman, unfairly handsome as always.

(He still wasn’t sure how Roman managed that feat when they all literally, at least some of the time, had the same face.)

“I…don’t see a problem?” Logan asked slowly.

“I meant, look at what I’m wearing, Calculator Watch,” Roman snarled, and turned to yell nonsensically at the ceiling. “Am I a joke to you? When I said I wanted to be a companion, this is not what I meant!”

Logan focused on Roman’s clothing, which had shifted rather drastically since passing through those doors. His normal princely attire was replaced by a denim cutoff skirt, overalls, pink leggings, and a tight pink blouse that clung to his muscular chest and arms...

“I look ridiculous, don’t I?” Roman murmured, scuffing a combat boot against the metal grated floor. The motion drew Logan’s gaze again to the way the cutoffs hugged his hips and wow, that skirt was really short, wasn’t it?

And those tights, the way they accentuated Roman’s legs...

Logan frowned, his face feeling unusually warm. Why did he keep noticing these things? Of course Roman was more fit than the rest of them.

Perhaps it was simply that Logan didn’t usually see the evidence of it so…plainly.

Stop, Logan told himself sharply. You might be gay and allosexual, but that is no excuse to be disrespectful.

He cleared his throat.

“If I may, Roman?” he said, approaching, and made a closer examination of Roman’s outfit.

“I gather from your earlier ranting that you instructed the Imagination to cast you as one of the Doctor’s companions for the duration of this scenario?”

“Well, yeah,” Roman admitted, “but I was thinking someone like Jamie McCrimmon, or Rory Williams, or maybe even Jack Harkness!”

“You know there is some debate over whether Jack Harkness would be considered a proper ‘companion’, as he was never full time on the TARDIS,” Logan argued absently, still eying Roman’s ensemble.

It was attractive but also familiar; he just couldn’t quite place it…

“Neither was Clara Oswald at first, but nobody had a problem handing her that label from the start!” Roman folded his arms and Logan had to look away because wow, short sleeves and arms…

“Just because she was a girl and the writers obviously intended for her to be a love interest—”

“A girl, of course!” Logan snapped his fingers. “Roman, you are a companion. Specifically, you are Rose Tyler.”

“What?” Roman frowned, smoothing the overalls across his middle. “I…Hmm. You might actually be right.”

“Of course I am right.”

The creative Side scoffed at that, but continued to frown.

“I think it’s a good choice,” Logan added. “Rose is arguably one of the most beloved companions in new Who; bold, kind, and intelligent in her own way. She was pivotal to the Ninth, Tenth, and arguably the War Doctor’s character arcs.”

He laid a hand on Roman’s shoulder. (To convey reassurance, of course. Not because he suddenly wanted to touch…)

“Hers are not the worst shoes you could be given to fill,” Logan said, “idiomatically speaking.”

“Only you would drop a word like ‘idiomatically’ in everyday conversation,” Roman grumbled, but some of the spark returned to his caramel eyes.

“But look at you!” Roman said in a brighter voice, gesturing. “All proper and Doctor-ish. At least the Imagination let you keep your tie, or, whatever that thing is around your neck.”

Logan glanced down at himself for the first time.

His sensible polo and jeans had become a clean-cut black suit, with a warm grey waistcoat, a crisp white undershirt, and a silver pocket watch. A navy cravat was knotted around his throat.

His knee-length suit jacket was also black, with a striking cerulean lining.

He retrieved a slender, metallic something from the jacket’s inner pocket: of course, the Doctor’s signature sonic screwdriver. Specifically, the Tenth Doctor’s screwdriver.

Logan chuckled, remembering all the times he’d ranted to Roman about how impractical and flashy Eleven’s screwdriver became, and don’t even get him started on Twelve’s, it was practically a lightsaber…

“Interesting,” he murmured, stretching his arms to turn in a slow circle, letting the jacket flare. “Fashionably, I appear to be a cross between the Eighth and Twelfth Doctors, which I appreciate, as they are the two most sensible dressers of the bunch. And by the way, Roman, this is a called a cravat, not a tie…”

He’d lifted hands to his neck but the words died on his tongue.

Roman had summoned a mirror and was, quite literally, checking himself out. He swayed his hips, tilted one toward and then away from the mirror, pouted, did a tongue smile, and…and Logan realized he had been watching for more than a socially acceptable length of time.

He swallowed hard and cleared his throat again. But he was saved from having to speak by a loud crackling at the center console.

Both Sides rushed over, Logan seizing the TV screen and pulling it down. Gray static skittered over the polished surface. He flipped two switches and turned a dial, trying to zero in on the signal.

“I meant to ask earlier…how do you know what to do?” Roman asked, tilting his head. “You were piloting before I think you even realized we were on a TARDIS in the first place.”

Logan froze in the middle of winding one of the cranks.

“I…I really do not know.” In fact, the more he thought about it, the less sense any of the controls made. “Now that you’ve drawn my attention to it, you are correct: rationally, I should not know the function of any of these…gizmos.” He gestured at the crank he’d been winding.

“Yet somehow my hands just…know.”

Roman leaned casually onto the console.

“When I built this LARP, I gave the Imagination quite a bit of leeway in how it wanted to construct our characters,” he said. “I’m thinking it took things a step further than costume changes, like making me the companion it thinks I most resemble instead of the companion I wanted to be.”

Roman bit his lip as though troubled, then clearly shook himself out of it.

“And it must have imparted some of the Doctor’s knowledge upon me.” Logan added, not sure how he felt about the Imagination having such a direct influence over his mind. He supposed if it didn’t get too invasive, and was confined to this one night, he could deal with it.

It had proven useful so far, after all.

Roman shot Logan a fierce grin.

“Indeed! So engage that big Doctor brain and let’s see who’s trying to call us. Allons-y, adventure awaits!”

“You know ‘allons-y’ is my line, right?” Logan said dryly.

He had to use his screwdriver on the screen before the picture came clear. The stream of static acquired the cadence of a voice…and then a disturbingly familiar face stared back at his own, looking equally shocked.

Roman, for the second time since entering the TARDIS, let out a bloodcurdling scream.

Chapter 3- The Witch’s Familiar

“If you’re going to take my stick, do me the courtesy of actually killing me. Teamwork is all about respect.”

Janus had just settled into his favorite chair with a mug of chamomile tea and a political science book when he was yanked…rather rudely, he might add…onto the deck of a spaceship.

He sighed, and dismissed his drink.

When one lived in the same mindspace as the literal embodiment of chaos, one unfortunately learned to expect such interruptions.

“REMUS!” he roared, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Did I not specifically ask to be LEFT ALONE tonight?”

Silence.

Deeply annoyed now, Janus took a moment to look around himself. This was not a normal spaceship; no windows, for one, and it was laid out in levels around a translucent column at the very center. His mismatched eyes followed the center rotor up and down, his mind almost placing it…

Something clumsily rose up from the deck with a clatter, causing Janus to summon his crook with a yell.

Only…the object that dropped into his hand wasn’t smooth wood, but a slender metal instrument just barely longer than his hand. A…sonic screwdriver? What the actual heck?

Well. It was what he had.

“Get back!” He pointed the instrument at the…figure…who still slowly climbed to its feet. It was an android or robot of some sort; humanoid, and the same kind of weirdly familiar as the ship.

“Janus?” the robot said, tilting its head.

Janus froze, all the scales standing up on his body. That was…that was Patton’s voice. Flat, mechanical, but unmistakable.

After all, Patton was the only Side who consistently called Janus by name.

“Patton?” Janus whispered.

“Oh, that was so weird-feeling! Thank goodness I’m not all by myself,” Robot-Patton said, putting a hand over his…well, where his heart should have been…in obvious relief. “But why are we both suddenly on the TARDIS?”

Janus drew in a sharp breath.

Of course, he should have recognized the stupid time rotor immediately. He’d never admit it to any of them, but he was as much of a Doctor Who nerd as Logan or Roman, sometimes going so far as to spy on them when they argued over episodes together.

To learn their arguing styles, of course.

Not because he had any desire to join those discussions.

And now, looking at Patton with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Janus deduced exactly what he was: a Mondasian Cyberman. They were older and cruder in design than the reboot versions…no wonder he hadn’t put a finger on it right away.

That wasn’t really the issue.

“REMUS!” Janus shouted again, more angrily this time. Bad enough his pleasant evening of solitude had been interrupted by…whatever this was. But putting the sweetest, most emotional Side into a canonically unemotional shell, a robot?

That was cruel. That was insulting.

It was too far, even for Remus.

“Janus, is everything okay?” Patton asked, coming closer. Janus shivered at the sound of that warm voice coming from a blank metallic face with empty eyes.

“Do you…feel all right?” Janus said in a hesitant voice.

“I’m a little chilly, but otherwise I’m in ship shape!” the other quipped, giggling. “Get it? Cause we’re on a ship?”

Is it…is it possible that he doesn’t know?

“Hilarious,” Janus deadpanned, but inside his thoughts spun.

He sensed they were in a dream construct within the Imagination, which meant this had to be Remus’s doing. Remus, who reveled in gore, despair, disturbing imagery, angst, and who was in charge of Thomas’s nightmares.

Remus could…and would, given the chance…recreate the experience of being a Cyberman down to the Last. Grim. Detail.

Maybe he hadn’t meant to ensnare Patton specifically to fill this role…Remus didn’t generally pull other Sides in for nightmares, come to think of it…but meanwhile, Janus didn’t want to find out what this might do to Patton’s head.

Worse, it was becoming clear that Patton was somehow oblivious to the state of his own body; he’d used his metallic hands to clutch at his metallic chest and found nothing wrong with either. He couldn’t hear the electronic rasp in his own voice, or the heavy clanging of his steps on the grated floor.

Should Janus say something?

Would Patton believe him if he did?

Ever since Thomas’s near mental breakdown after the disastrous wedding, Patton and Janus had orbited around each other in a state of tenuous truce. They talked now, sometimes, and those talks didn’t always end in arguments. Patton began to leave space for him by Thomas’s blinds when he was called up, and he…and by extension Thomas…occasionally actually sought his input.

But Janus, well.

Janus was still a liar.

The others still called him Deceit, either by accident (Logan) or out of spite (Virgil). Then there was Roman, who invented a colorful, wounding ego-jab for him every day, and Remus, whose fond nicknames tended to double as sex jokes.

Having no other real allies in the mindscape, Janus really, really didn’t want to screw up his tenuous alliance with Patton. Why sabotage his figurative “seat at the table” over one of Remus’s stupid nightmares?

Patton would assume Janus was slipping back into his old ways, lying just because he could, and Janus would never be able to prove otherwise. And later Patton would make that sour, pinched face he always made when he was disappointed, the one that made Janus want to crawl into a hole…

So.

Best to keep his observations close to the chest, for now.

“Do you have any idea what we’re doing here?” Janus asked, striding to the center console. True to dream logic, the controls made no sense and simultaneously made perfect sense.

Patton shrugged; a strange, clanky motion of his shoulders.

Janus sighed. “Although Remus has dragged me into dreams before, even he generally understands the concept of consent.” He casually flapped a hand. “And he always leaves you ‘light sides’ alone.”

“Honestly, this doesn’t feel like a nightmare to me,” Patton said, nearly making Janus choke. The Cyberman clanked over to stand by the console.

“It’s too clean,” Patton added. “Roman let me glimpse Remus’s side of the Imagination once, not long after he showed himself to Thomas, and it was…”

Patton trailed off.

“Fragmented? Chaotic? Disturbing?” Janus supplied.

“Sure, we’ll go with that,” Patton said quietly. “This,” he waved a hand around, “feels more like Roman’s work.”

“I suppose you would know.” Janus ran a thoughtful thumb over his face, tracing the ridge that ran from the corner of his mouth to his ear.

“And I would almost have to agree,” he added slowly. “If this was a nightmare, surely something ghastly would have happened by now. But my being pulled into one of Roman’s creations makes even less sense. He literally cannot stand me.”

“Maybe this is one of those dreams Thomas has sometimes after binge watching a show?” Patton suggested. “When there’s enough material in short term memory that the twins don’t get much input? Did Thomas binge a season of Doctor Who yesterday or something?”

And to think the others still view you as stupid, or slow-witted.

Janus bit back a smile.

“It’s a good theory, Patton, but no,” he said. “Thomas hasn’t really binged on much of anything lately.”

Patton ducked his head.

“You don’t…you don’t have to rub it in, you know,” he said lowly, the metallic rasp grating on Janus’s ears. “You and Logan have both made it pretty clear that I’ve been too strict with Thomas’s time.”

Janus fought to keep his expression neutral, but his stomach twisted.

Damn it.

Leave it to Patton to find guilt where none was meant. Even if Janus claimed he hadn’t meant it like that, Patton would probably not believe him.

Patton tilted his metal head as he examined Janus’s face.

“Did you know you have a mustache now? And a little goatee?”

“I have a what?” Janus felt at his face and groaned, his gloved fingers tugging at hair that most certainly did not belong on his face; with the scales, it probably looked hideous.

His entire outfit had altered in subtle ways, he realized. His usual plum tunic and trousers were now a brown suit and waistcoat ensemble, crossed with yellow pinstripes, with a black collared undershirt. A brown, knee-length suit jacket replaced his caplet, with subtle gold trimming. His yellow gloves were unchanged, thank goodness, and his hat…?

His hands flew up to his head and found something perched over his hair, sitting at an angle. Janus yanked down a screen at the console and stared. His beloved bowler had shrunk into a tiny, flat, rakish thing with a wide brim, festooned with a cluster of yellow rosebuds and black beads.

“What on earth, Remus?” he grumbled, turning his head from side to side. Well, if he had to be honest, pinstripes and a hatinator weren’t a terrible look.

“Well, if we’re on a TARDIS, I guess you’re supposed to be the Doctor,” Patton pointed out. “Which would make me your companion.”

Janus stroked his goatee and examined their surroundings in more detail. But am I a Doctor? he wondered. And if so, which one?

And whose TARDIS is this?

Because while it was clear they were on a TARDIS…what other class of spaceship had a time rotor?…he wasn’t almost certain this was not the TARDIS.

Every corner of the Doctor’s ship, no matter which face it belonged to, tended to overflow with bright, shiny, eclectic whimsy. By contrast, this one was plain, stark, with exposed metal beams and sharp angles.

Too dark, too full of shadows.

An awful suspicion rose up in his mind.

He crossed to one of the bookshelves, ignoring Patton’s soft inquiry, and his jaw clenched. There was the Necronomicon, shelved between the Liber Inducens in Evangelium Aeternum and The Black Scrolls of Rassilon, Book of Vile and its Black Appendix, The Ambuehl Lores and the Insidium of Astrolabus.

Janus finally looked at the sonic device he’d been holding all this time; seeing now that it wasn’t a screwdriver at all, and thanked every god he knew that he hadn’t tried to use it on Patton earlier.

It was a sonic laser.

Once again, even in a stupid, nonsensical dream, Janus had been cast as the villain.

His fist had collided with the bookshelf before he even realized he was moving, books falling to the floor. He punched it again, and again, until a cool rigid hand closed around his wrist and yanked him back.

“Janus, Janus, stop!” Patton yelled in his ear.

Janus wrenched his arm away and stalked back to the console, running gloved fingers over his scales, pushing them up and smoothing them down. The familiar sensation grounded him.

“You were right, Patton,” he threw over his shoulder. “This is definitely one of Roman’s dreams, and he definitely fucking hates me.”

Patton’s heavy footsteps clattered behind him.

“Language. And how do you know that,” he asked. “…Doctor?”

Janus whirled, lips curled in a snarl.

“I am not the Doctor, Patton, and we are not on the TARDIS.” He spread his arms to encompass them both, gesturing to the dimly lit spaceship. “Look around. Look at me!”

He turned, slowly, and eyed his mustached visage in the dark view screen.

“Clearly, I am the Master.”

Chapter 4- Nightmare in Silver

“You think he knows what he’s doing?”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far.”

Patton rested his arms against the console and sighed.

Once again, someone I care about is upset, and I don’t know what to do. I guess I should be used to it by now.

It didn’t help that it was so cold in this TARDIS. He folded his arms around his middle, which felt strange and heavy, to combat the chill that seemed to have settled deep in his bones.

Janus stalked past again, grumbling to himself.

“Of course the Prince would pull me into one of his little ‘adventures’ without my consent. He probably needed an antagonist. And naturally the slippery snake would have been the first person to come to mind!”

Patton opened his mouth…though he had no idea what he was going to say…but Janus drowned him out.

“Come on, Roman!” he shouted, throwing his yellow-clad hands up. “You’ve had your fun. Yes, I’m evil, I’m the villain, I’m the bad guy, blah blah. Let’s have our epic confrontation or whatever nonsense you have planned, as I would very much like to get back to my reading sometime tonight.”

Silence.

Patton didn’t know what Janus was expecting.

“Look, maybe we should just play along for now?” Patton said aloud, wincing when Janus turned his murderous expression on him. The deceptive Side had such deep, cutting golden eyes, the human one so much darker than the other…cynical eyes that were, ironically, almost impossible to lie to.

They’d see straight through it.

“It takes a liar to know a liar.”

The glare quickly softened, though, which in Patton’s opinion said a lot about how far Janus had come.

“And how do you propossse we ‘play along’?” Janus said, hissing his s’s in frustration.

“Well, we’ve kinda decided this is Roman’s dream, right? And since we’re in his part of the Imagination, we know he won’t let anything bad happen to us…”

Patton trailed off at Janus’s pained expression, reminded of just how badly Janus and Roman’s last encounter had gone.

“What are you, a middle school librarian?”

“Thank god you don’t have a mustache.”

And I just stood there and did nothing…no, I can’t dwell on that right now. Patton shook himself out of the memory.

It was surprisingly easy; even his emotions felt a little heavy and muted. He supposed he wasn’t used to being in a dreamscape; unlike Roman, who played in them all the time.

I know Roman, Patton reasoned. He might hold a grudge for a while, but he wouldn’t actually be out to hurt Janus.

Right?

“So, if we’re on a time ship, on some kind of adventure leading up to a confrontation like you said, the first thing we’d have to do is figure out where we need to go,” Patton finished, shrugging.

Janus pursed his lips…which looked downright weird with a mustache and goatee, almost making Patton giggle…and began pushing buttons on the console.

“You are definitely incorrect, Patton,” he said, pulling up another screen and flipping a few switches. “If I have been cast as the villain in this ridiculous charade, that means Roman is likely prancing around as the Doctor right now, on the proper TARDIS. Which, as the Doctor’s nemesis, I should be able to contact…ha!”

The screen burst into static.

“Doctor, oh Doctor, do you read me?” Janus crooned, and if Patton hadn’t known just how angry he was in that moment…well, he would have never known.

Janus had tucked it away entirely, in half a second's time.

That’s the scary thing about him, Patton realized uneasily. He’s smart, nearly as smart as Logan. Smart enough to run circles around me, that’s for sure. And he’s easily as good an actor as Roman.

Those attributes, combined with his naturally manipulative nature, made it difficult to trust him.

Patton was trying.

He’d been trying since the wedding, and well, since everything else that had happened. (Patton still cringed when Thomas encountered even a picture of a frog.) He’d done a lot of thinking and growing that day (in more ways than one!), and he’d come to a disturbing, but inevitable conclusion.

Janus wasn’t evil.

He never had been.

Just like Virgil had never been evil. Mean, sure; and sarcastic, and spiteful…but at his core, Virgil had wanted what was best for Thomas.

They all did.

And then there was the uncomfortable corollary to that: Patton, despite his best efforts, despite his core Purpose…Patton wasn’t entirely and automatically good.

Two weeks ago, Janus had proven beyond a doubt that Thomas needed him…ruthlessly, cuttingly, but no one could say he hadn’t made his point. It had been Patton who’d inadvertently pushed Thomas to the brink of a breakdown, and Janus who had to pull them all back.

Despite Patton’s unease, and the little voice in his head telling him that Deceit couldn’t be trusted, could never truly be trusted because it was in his nature to deceive…Patton remembered how they’d pushed Virgil so hard he decided to duck out, and how much of a tragedy that could have been if they hadn’t all intervened to bring him back.

With a pang of guilt, he pictured Thomas lying on the floor, crushed under the metaphorical weight of everything Patton needed him to do to keep from being a bad person…

He would not make those mistakes again.

If Virgil could learn to work with them instead of against them, so could Janus. If Patton could learn to recognize when his own Purpose did more harm than good, so could Janus.

Patton had to believe that.

He’d made too many mistakes lately to believe otherwise.

The screen in Janus’s hands cleared to reveal…

“What? Logan??” Janus exclaimed, as a scream echoed somewhere in the background.

“D—Janus?” Logan countered, then looked over his shoulder. “Roman, for the love of Archimedes, will you stop shrieking? I cannot hear.”

The screaming cut off and Roman’s fuming face squished into the frame with Logan.

“Deceit! I should have known you would show up to ruin this!” he managed to shout before Logan shoved him away.

“Ruin…I’m sorry, what?” Janus glanced at Patton, looking honestly confused. “Is he roleplaying right now? We assumed this scenario was Roman’s creation.”

Onscreen, Logan placed his whole hand against Roman’s mouth to prevent him from interrupting.

“It is. But to my understanding, it was only supposed to involve myself and Roman, and…wait. You said ’we’.” Logan peered around. “Who else is with you?”

Patton started to wave, but his view was blocked by Janus bending close to the screen to whisper something. Suspicion flared in Patton’s stomach; old, familiar, but after the talk he’d just given himself, he purposefully pushed it down.

I won’t assume he’s being shifty unless he actually gives me a reason to.

Lifting his chin, he crept forward until he was next to Janus’s shoulder.

“Hey, Logan,” he said brightly, waving.

“Ah…hello, Patton,” Logan squeaked after a moment, his eyes still wide.

“Wait, Patton’s there? With the snake?” Roman’s voice yelled from the background, and then there was Roman’s face again.

“Patton?” Roman said, narrowing his eyes. “But why are you—?”

Both faces disappeared for a moment as Logan yanked Roman out of frame. Patton thought he heard a rapid, hushed conversation. He glanced at Janus, who only shrugged, looking at puzzled as Patton felt.

Roman’s face reappeared, solemn and deeply annoyed.

“Patton,” he said, and hesitated. “D—Janus. You two…well, you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Very reassuring,” Janus quipped.

“This was only supposed to be a two-person adventure: Doctor plus companion. I have no idea why the Imagination brought you both in as well; I certainly didn’t tell it to.”

“Aw, that’s okay, kiddo,” Patton started gently. “It’s not your fault—”

“Oh, sweetie.” Janus folded his arms. “I’m sorry, but that’s bull. Putting me in the Master’s shoes? Are we seriously going to pretend the Side who unashamedly hates me had nothing to do with that?”

“I didn’t!” Roman argued, his voice going high. “You really think I wanted you here, in any capacity?”

“Deceit…er, Janus, you are being unnecessarily antagonistic, and as such, unhelpful,” Logan cut in with his low, reassuring voice. “But Roman, it might behoove us to consider the role of subconscious influence. You may not have intended to pull the others in, and yet here they are.”

Roman looked at Logan, aghast, and Patton almost flinched at the raw hurt in his caramel eyes. The creative Side backed out of frame.

“So you’re on his side, too,” his voice said quietly. “Is that how it is?”

“I am not on anyone’s side,” Logan argued, raising his hands. “We are all currently in this situation together, and as such—”

Whatever he’d been about to say was cut off by another garbled transmission, taking over the screen and blocking out Logan’s face with crackly, purple static. A gray, snarling face flashed out of the haze, making Patton shriek in surprise and even Janus took a step back.

Then it was gone, dissolving back to static…and the sound of someone laughing filled the connection.

“Hellooooo, nurse,” a familiar sing-song voice crooned. “Did you miss me?”

Chapter 5- The Long Game

“You can’t just read the guide book, you’ve got to throw yourself in. Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double and end up kissing complete strangers. Or is that just me?”

Logan sighed.

He knew that voice; they all did. Even Thomas, unfortunately.

“Remus,” Roman hissed.

The mustached Side filled the screen, grinning madly. “Boo!”

“Get out of my scenario,” Roman said, his eyes flashing. “If you know what’s good for you.”

“Your scenario?” Remus echoed, faux-outrage in his expression. “Yours? The Dream Palace is my domain, too, brother, whether you like it or not.” He leaned closer, letting his nostrils and a single radioactive green eye fill the screen. “Did you really think you could keep me out?”

Roman made a sound of disgust deep in his throat.

“Am I to assume, then, that you are responsible for bringing in the other Sides?” Logan asked, careful to keep his voice even. Remus thrived on getting a rise out of people.

“Of course he is!” Roman snapped, throwing up his hands. “He loves to ruin things, especially my things.”

“Now why would having the others here ruin anything, brother?” Remus asked in a sickly sweet voice, propping his head on his hand. “Unless you intended for this nighttime romp between you and Logan to be private?”

Roman sputtered and glanced at Logan, red-faced, as Remus giggled.

“It was meant to be so, yes,” Logan supplied, unsure why Remus would find that funny…or why Roman would find it embarrassing.

“As amusing as this all is—” Janus’s crooning voice cut through the speaker.

“Great. You’re still here, snake?” Roman snarked, his arms folded around himself.

“We’re all listening, kiddo,” Patton’s metallic voice said.

Roman’s lips always curl into a pout when he is angry, Logan thought, eyeing him without turning his head, and he gets a little wrinkle between his eyebrows. Why…why am I noticing such things all of a sudden?

Maybe it was the stress, or the unfamiliar environment.

Or maybe it was the Rose Tyler outfit.

That skirt ought to be illegal.

Logan deliberately focused on the screen, his cheeks warm.

“So this is kinda new,” Patton went on, “all of us actually talking—”

“If Remus is responsible,” Janus cut in again, “then perhaps he would be so kind as to explain the objective of this late night group therapy session?”

Despite the biting sarcasm, Logan did appreciate Janus’s insistence that they get to the point, even if it did mean talking over Patton…

Speaking of, why would Remus have paired Patton with Janus?

Surely he should have grouped Patton with Logan and Roman, and put Virgil with Janus? Or…maybe not, given how Virgil hisses if Janus so much as enters the same room.

Ugh. Interpersonal drama. Logan was thoroughly sick of trying to keep track of who carried a grudge against whom, especially when it seemed to change from day to day.

And on top of that, why would Remus make Patton a Cyberman? None of these decisions make any sense…

“Right?” Roman agreed softly next to him, and Logan realized he’d said that last bit out loud.

“If anything, I should have been the unfeeling killer robot,” Logan murmured.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Specs.” Roman shot him a strange look, both warm and troubled. “And frankly I don’t give a stinky rat’s ass about my stinky rat brother’s sick thought process. What I want to know is why Deceit doesn’t want us to mention it around Patton?”

Logan, who was still mentally stuck on rodents and donkeys…Roman’s metaphors were always something else…shook his head slightly.

“There’s no logical way Patton is unaware of his condition,” Logan pointed out. “So I can only guess he wishes to protect Patton’s feelings on the matter, by not allowing us to talk about it in front of him.” He shrugged when Roman’s frown deepened. “Those two have been getting along much better these last few weeks.”

“I think you’re giving the snake too much credit,” Roman muttered. “Even after he impersonated you, Logan? C’mon. It has to be something else.”

Logan bit back a sigh.

He doesn’t understand, he thought guiltily. Because he doesn’t know what really happened…

#

“This is unacceptable, Deceit,” Logan snapped, flinging the crook away from his body. “I was in the middle of a discussion—”

“He won’t listen to you,” Deceit had said, and there was no sarcasm or snark in his voice.

“Patton asked for my opinion!”

“And he dismissed you from the conversation the moment that opinion went against his preconceived notions!” Deceit snapped back.

Silence.

Logan could hear the others still talking, out in the real world…without him…as the misty dregs of subconscious curled around their feet.

“You tricked him.” Logan folded his arms. “He was scared and off balance and you gave him an out.”

“I didn’t make him take it!”

Deceit sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Logan. You know he is wrong on this. You know what this is doing to Thomas. His unquestioning, black-and-white, juvenile morality; it’s not working anymore. Thomas needs to grow up, and Patton is not letting him.”

Logan bit his lip.

“Logan.” Deceit moved closer, dismissing his crook into mist and setting both gloved hands on Logan’s shoulders. Logan stiffened.

“Logic. Please. I am…no good at this.” Deceit dropped his head, his hat obscuring his eyes. “I operate through deceit because that is the only way I can make them acknowledge me.”

“They don’t acknowledge you because you operate through deceit,” Logan pointed out.

“A perfect catch 22.” Deceit let out a bitter laugh. “But a snake cannot change its scales and I don’t…I have tried everything I know. I cannot fix this from the shadows. I am out of ideas.”

A strange thought entered Logan’s mind.

“You care. You care what happens to Thomas.”

Deceit looked up, his mismatched eyes glittering with stinging intensity. “I am the literal representation of selfishness. Why the hell else would I go to all this trouble if I didn’t care?”

“Well…” Logan trailed off, troubled.

He’d let the others get to him, he realized in that moment. He’d let Roman get to him, with his talk of evil and Dark Sides and how they were always trying to tempt Thomas off the right path.

But…they were all part of Thomas, even the so-called “dark sides”.

Of course they wanted what was best for him…well, what Remus wanted at any given moment was debatable…even if they didn’t always go about it in the healthiest of ways.

Deceit had laughed then, high pitched and bitter.

“Really? Really? Even you think so low of me?”

“You are manipulating me right now.” Logan frowned. “You are using my concern for Thomas to make me trust you.”

“Yes! I am!” Deceit got in his face, fangs flashing. “I am a manipulative bastard because that is the lens through which my Source perceives me. But that doesn’t matter because you, Logic; you see through me, always have. And you know perfectly well that logically, any objection you have to my personality or my methods does not change the fact that I. Am. Right.”

He punctuated each word with a poke to Logan’s chest.

“Deceit—” Logan started.

“Janus.”

“What?”

Deceit sighed. “My name. My…real name. It’s Janus.”

Logan blinked. He knew the mythology, of course: Janus, keeper of doorways and thresholds, looking simultaneously to the past and future. Two faces. Seeing things from every angle.

Self-preservation.

“It suits you,” Logan said quietly.

Tension bled out of Janus’s shoulders, a stiffness Logan hadn’t even realized was there until it was gone.

“Thank you.”

“Why am I here…Janus?” Logan asked, glancing away. “What do you need from me?”

Janus looked at him intently.

“Let me speak to them as you.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and Janus sighed, waving a hand.

“I know, I know, more deceit, more lies, but—”

“No, it’s…” Logan pressed his lips together. “You already pointed it out. They don’t listen to me, either.”

The bitter twist that accompanied those words was becoming an all too familiar sensation in Logan’s chest.

Janus snorted.

“Oh, they do. Eventually. They heeded your advice on how to deal with Remus.”

Logan shrugged uncomfortably.

“Look,” Janus added, “honest people know how to tell the truth, but liars…” he smirked, not especially nicely. “We know how to wield the truth to accomplish an end. I can pull Thomas and the others out of this rut, but they have to be receptive to my tugging on the reins.”

Logan pursed his lips.

“You won’t fool them. If you recall, you tried to impersonate me once already and barely lasted two minutes.”

“I didn’t have your blessing.”

Janus fixed Logan with his intense mismatched eyes again, and held out a hand.

Logan stared at it, torn.

This was Deceit, the master liar: Thomas’s entire capacity for deception condensed into a single, snake-faced Side. How could Logan possibly trust him to not make things worse, after all the falsehoods, the impersonations, how he’d manipulated them all in one way or another to get his way?

But…as much as Logan, personally, didn’t understand why that callback had been so important to Thomas…he could not dismiss the fallout Thomas had suffered as a result of missing it. The decision to attend the wedding had turned out to be a bad one.

Patton had been wrong to insist upon it over Janus’s objections, and over Roman’s.

Those were just the facts.

Janus sighed.

“I’ll unmask myself when an opportunity arises, if that would help,” he offered, and to Logan’s shock, slowly tugged off a glove. “I won’t…I won’t let it go on as long as it did with Patton.”

He offered his now bare hand to Logan again.

Out in the real world, Logan could hear Patton’s increasingly desperate and ridiculous responses to Thomas’s and Roman’s questions, and winced. Janus did the same.

“Please,” was all he said.

Logan sighed…it really couldn’t get any worse, could it?…and shook Janus’s hand.

#

In his TARDIS, Logan let out the sigh he was holding back.

He might have personal, concrete evidence that Janus wasn’t evil, but he also knew Janus had wounded Roman, badly, that day. The creative Side was simply not currently capable of viewing any situation involving Janus with any sort of objectivity.

Passionate, sensitive people like Roman tended to have an unfortunate habit of hanging onto grudges.

As Logic, Logan needed to remember that.

“Oh, all right,” Remus said, his voice crackling over the connection. “Since you’re all here—”

“Actually, Remus, we’re not all here,” Patton’s voice pointed out. “You all know perfectly well who we’re missing; we’ve done this before.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “‘Where is Anxiety?’” he quoted.

“You mean Tickle Me Emo isn’t with one of you?” Remus asked, looking delighted. “Oh dear, oh dear. Is he lost?”

“I mean, TARDISes are huge,” Roman pointed out. “He could be somewhere on one of our ships.” His voice dropped again. “I’ll bet Deceit stashed him away, because we all know how he hates Virgil.”

“Excuse you,” Janus’s voice interrupted, annoyed. “It is Virgil who hates me, not the other way around.”

“Let’s both scan our ships,” Logan suggested, hoping to head off an argument. Honestly, if Roman and Janus didn’t stop picking fights with one another, he was going to lose his marbles.

The scans pulled up nothing.

“Oh well,” Remus said with a shrug. “Guess the emo gets to miss out.”

Janus grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “lucky”.

“All right, here’s what’s going to happen.” Remus leaned close to the screen. “I’ve crash landed on a lovely snowbound planet that’s crawling with psychotic tin cans who like to roll around yelling ‘exterminate’.”

“Daleks? A snowbound planet, so not Skarro, but where else…” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“He’s on the Dalek asylum,” Roman said lowly. “That was one of the episodes I had in mind when I plotted this adventure.”

“Very good, brother.” Remus clapped his hands. “And up there in orbit is a ship full of people who’d really like to blow up the whole planet. Oh, woe is me, whatever shall I—”

“Save it,” Roman snapped. “You’d probably enjoy getting blown up.”

“Hmm, true.” Remus’s green eyes sharpened. “Think of the mess! Little bits of intestines floating through space, long pink ropey—”

“Or?” Logan interjected, before Remus gave Patton nightmares.

“Or you have to come rescue me!” Remus’s teeth flashed as he grinned. “Because otherwise it’s nighty-night for me and all the other aliens in the asylum.”

There was a beat of silence.

“As terrible as that sounds,” Janus drawled, sounding anything but worried, “given that none of this is real, and at least one of us would very much rather not be here at all…why exactly should your plight concern us?”

Logan secretly agreed, but felt his stomach clench when he glanced at Roman’s troubled face. None of this was real…right? Would something concretely bad happen to Remus if the planet he inhabited was blown up?

Surely not.

This was only a dream. Perhaps, then, Roman was merely upset that his twin had usurped his adventure for the night?

“Also.” Remus buffed his fingernails. “You should know that the Imagination will only release us if we complete the objective. In other words,” and he sneered, purple-shadowed eyes glittering, “we’re all stuck in this scenario until we’re all reunited.”

Remus giggled as Logan exchanged a shocked look with Roman.

“I don’t believe you. This was my dream,” Roman said darkly. “And I’ve just about had enough of all this!”

He stepped back and snapped his fingers with a flourish. Frowning, he did it again, and again, his face growing paler with each try.

“Roman, what—” Logan started.

“I can’t end it,” Roman whispered, still snapping. “He’s right. He’s…he’s sealed off the dream’s boundaries somehow. Remus!”

This he roared at the screen.

“Keeping Thomas trapped in a dream state is going too far, Remus!” he yelled. “I don’t care what kind of demented game you want to play with us, but we don’t bring Thomas into it.”

“Oh, you think I created an unbreakable dreamscape?” Remus snapped. “You let the Imagination have too much reign, my dear brother, and now neither of us have the power to end the dream ourselves. I estimate we have about ten hours before Thomas wakes up.”

For a moment, all Logan could hear was the soft whoosh of the time rotor, and Roman’s shallow, angry breathing at his shoulder.

“So I suggest you all pilot your ships to these coordinates,” Remus added, and a series of numbers and strange symbols flashed up on one of the smaller console screens. “And get started.”

The main screen blipped, and Remus’s face was replaced by an expressionless Cyberman and a snake-faced Side who looked extremely pale under his scales.

“Well,” Logan stated. “This is a problem.”

Chapter 6- Asylum of the Daleks

“You’re going to fire me at a planet? That’s your plan? I get fired at a planet and expected to fix it?”

“In fairness, that is slightly your M.O.”

“Don’t be fair to the Daleks when they’re firing me at a planet.”

The familiar wheeze of the TARDIS materializing filled Roman’s ears as he waited by the doors. Logan joined him a moment later.

“Ready?” he asked, smoothing a hand over his cravat.

He looks good as the Doctor, Roman thought, eying the slimming black and navy, the graceful arc that hand made as it adjusted a pair of glasses…

He shook himself out of his distraction. “Let’s do this, nerd.”

Logan opened the doors and the two stepped out…not onto the asylum, but onto a spaceship. Shiny copper terraces lined the vast walls in curving rows, leading the eye up to a domed ceiling with a clear view of black, star-studded space. Like a huge amphitheater, or stadium. Even Roman had to admit, the Imagination had really outdone itself on the realism.

Of course, given that the ship was filled with hundreds upon hundreds of Daleks calling for violence…realism wasn’t exactly comforting at the moment.

“Surprise, surprise, I don’t see my stupid brother,” Roman commented over the dull roar of the crowd.

“No. But I recognize where we are.” Logan waved a hand. “You were right about Remus’s location; this ship is from the episode ‘Asylum of the Daleks’, in Season 7. If we are following the basic plotline, Remus is likely somewhere down on the planet below, and we will be sent to him in due course. However…I am curious as to why all the other aliens are here.”

Roman looked around again, seeing that Logan was right. Daleks formed the majority of the crowd, but he also spotted Zygons, Sontarans, Silurians, other Cybermen, Ice Warriors…and quite a few aliens from older seasons he couldn’t remember the names of.

(Logan probably could.)

A second TARDIS materialized near their familiar blue box: plain, gray; a squat column of a ship. Janus emerged first, a silver instrument gripped in one gloved hand, followed by an old-school Cyberman…Patton. Roman frowned. Seeing that metal…being…and having to remember it was actually his friend was going to be difficult now that there wasn’t a screen separating them.

“Nice work, Roman,” Janus said, sidling up next to him and faux-clapping his hands. “A ship full of aliens who want us dead; always an excellent starting point for an adventure.”

“This is how the episode starts, Mr. Oh-I’m-Such-an-Expert-in-Doctor-Who,” Roman retorted. “Accuracy is important.”

“But this isn’t accurate,” Logan pointed out. “There should only be Daleks here.”

Roman folded his arms, stung.

Damn Logan and his damned need to be right all the time.

“I…well, I didn’t model this adventure after just one particular episode,” Roman admitted. “I wanted it to be a challenge, and it wouldn’t be if Logan and I already knew the ending. So no, I can’t exactly explain why all the other aliens are here, okay?”

Logan sighed.

“I was not criticizing you, Roman,” he said in a gentler voice. “As this has apparently become as much Remus’s and the Imagination’s handiwork as it is yours, it would be unreasonable to expect you to know what comes next.”

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL APPROACH THE SUPREME DALEK,” a grating robotic voice boomed across the ship, making them all whip around. A large white Dalek with an antenna on its shell loomed on a raised stage near the center of the amphitheater.

“They were expecting me, too?” Janus raised an eyebrow. “Interesting.”

The lights on the Dalek’s head flashed as it spoke again.

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL APPROACH WITH THEIR COMPANIONS.”

The four Sides exchanged a glance, and weaved through the assembled Daleks to the raised stage. The White Supreme Dalek was not the only occupant; it was flanked by an Ice Warrior, an Emojibot (which made Patton giggle), and…

“Look, a Janus,” Roman chortled, nudging the snake-faced Side in the ribs and pointing out the two-faced alien.

“You are all nerds and my logo is a two-headed snake,” Janus complained, rolling his eyes. “I literally do not know how all of you missed that obvious clue to my name.”

“DOCTOR,” the White Dalek said as they climbed the dais. “MASTER. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF THE DALEK ASYLUM?”

“I’m just impressed my rat-faced brother wasn’t lying about his location,” Roman grumbled, and sputtered when Logan placed a hand over his mouth.

“According to legend,” Logan said, “you have a dumping ground, a planet where you lock up all the Daleks that go wrong.”

“The battle-scarred, the insane. The ones even you can’t control,” Janus clarified. His voice dropped to a hiss. “No wonder they ssstuck Remus there.”

Roman covered his mouth to keep from snorting.

The snake would not make him laugh.

“CORRECT.” The Dalek pushed a button and a hole opened in the middle of the floor. A snow-covered planet lay below them, pristine from this high up.

“Ooh, that’s,” Patton started, and let out a metallic gulp. “That’s quite a drop. Do we, ah, have to go down the same way? Cause I remember that part, and—”

“How many Daleks are down there?” Logan asked.

“A COUNT HAS NOT BEEN MADE,” the white Dalek said.

“Millions, certainly,” a new voice chimed in. The tall, robed, dark-skinned Janus stepped forward, their front face addressing them. “But they will not be your only concern. The population of the planet consists of more than just Daleks.”

Roman exchanged a suspicious glance with Logan. This wasn’t in the episode. This is new.

“What do you mean?” Janus, their Janus, asked.

The alien Janus turned to a nearby monitor, pulling up some information. The backward-facing face continued to address them.

“Some time ago, the Daleks began noticing a curious phenomenon,” they said. “Random people, from all different races and species, started turning up on various planets in this quadrant of space, including the asylum. No ships, no technology, and no knowledge of how they’d gotten there. At first the imprisoned Daleks on the asylum simply killed them off as they appeared—”

Patton visibly winced, even with his metal body, and Logan’s eyes grew flinty.

“—but the new arrivals eventually became too many to exterminate,” the alien Janus went on, unconcerned. “By now we suspect the planet has a population of over a billion, far too many for its automated systems to handle.”

They turned their forward face to the four again.

“THE ASYLUM IS COMPROMISED,” the Dalek Supreme proclaimed. “IT MUST BE CLEANSED.”

“Hang on, you’re still going to blow the whole planet up?” Roman protested. “A billion people?”

“To be fair, that is what they did in the original episode,” Logan pointed out quietly.

“But that was just Daleks!”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Ah, so genocide is fine when it’s only the evil aliens getting blown up?”

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised to hear you defending the bad guys!” Roman snapped.

“That is enough!” Patton snapped in his robotic voice, stepping between them and raising both his hands. Laser pistols popped out of both of them, making both Roman and Janus step back in alarm.

After a tense moment, Patton lowered his arms again; the guns clicked and vanished into their casings.

“Uh, sorry kiddos, I don’t know what came over me,” he said in a sheepish, more Patton-y voice. “Can we please not fight? It…it kinda makes me feel weird and jittery when you do.”

Roman stared at Patton’s blank Cyberman face and armored Cyberman body and swallowed, hard.

Their Patton would never deliberately aim a gun at anyone, let alone his family. But Cybermen were created to eliminate…or rather, delete…anyone who got in their way.

Did Patton even realize what he’d almost done?

What would happen, if and when he was forced to confront the reality of his body in this realm? What if he didn’t figure it out until he accidentally did something terrible? It wouldn’t be real, of course, but to Patton…that wouldn’t matter.

If his Cyberman programming forced or tricked him into hurting someone, the guilt of it would devastate him.

All I wanted to do was take Logan on an adventure, Roman thought bitterly. A fun little dream adventure where he could play one of his heroes. Was that too much to ask, Imagination?

He folded his arms and glared around the Dalek ship, anywhere but at his fellow Sides.

Whatever the hell this has turned into, I want no part of it anymore.

“In order for us to destroy the planet, we will need you to disable the planet’s forcefield—” The alien Janus started, but Logan held up a finger.

“Excuse you,” he said sharply. “We have not agreed to do anything, least of all help you murder a billion people whose only crime is to have accidentally turned up in your prison. Have you even attempted to solve that mystery?"

"And why do you care what happens down there?" Roman added, sneering. "If the insane Daleks are armed—”

“DALEKS ARE ALWAYS ARMED,” the white Dalek proclaimed.

“—then why can’t they defend themselves?” Logan finished, shooting Roman a questioning glance.

Roman huffed, and looked away.

“At first they did,” the Janus explained. “But as I said, the automated systems cannot keep up with the influx. Wars are being fought over food and other resources as we speak. A starliner crashed on the surface mere days ago, and—”

“Ah,” Logan said slowly. “You’re afraid, with all the shifting alliances and new activity, that the mad Daleks will escape in the confusion.”

“We do not know who or what is behind the influx,” the Janus said. “But eventually, they will start coming with ships, or they will build them on the surface, or reach out to those who could attempt a rescue.”

“‘If sssomeone can get in, everything can get out’,” their Janus quoted darkly.

The other Janus nodded. “Even the Daleks agree, their mad brethren cannot be allowed to escape. We, of this assembly—”

They waved to the assembled crowd of aliens, who observed in eerie silence.

“—have decided that one planet must be sacrificed for the greater good of the universe.”

Roman slowly and deliberately drew his sword (which the Imagination had kindly left as part of his outfit). It rasped as it emerged, the sound hair-raising in the sudden lull.

Instantly every Dalek gunstick and alien weapon on the ship was primed and pointed at the four Sides.

“And if we refuse?” Roman said evenly.

“THE DOCTOR AND THE MASTER WILL COOPERATE,” the Supreme Dalek warned, its lights flashing balefully.

“COOPERATE! COOPERATE!” the cry was echoed by the other Daleks, filling the ship with a cacophony of robot voices.

The alien Janus shrugged, spreading their hands.

“You don’t really have a choice. If you want to live, that is.”

“Is that so.”

Roman tensed and sprang at the white Dalek, not giving himself time to think. He dodged a blast from its gunstick and leaped, bringing his sword down hard. This being the Imagination, the katana cut through the Dalek’s metal armor like butter, and it clattered to the deck in two pieces.

There was a shocked silence…but no retaliation.

“Well?” Roman shouted, spreading his arms and turning in a slow circle. “This is me, not cooperating. What are you waiting for? Are you really going to shoot us?”

If they all died on this spaceship…the worst that would happen is they’d be kicked from the Imagination, and that was what they wanted, anyway.

“Roman,” Logan warned quietly, pointing.

Roman looked.

The white Dalek’s shell was…laughing?

“Oh, Roman,” Remus’s crackly voice emerged from the fallen Dalek’s casing. “Roman, Roman, Roman. My poor brave brother who thinks he can solve all his problems with steel and bravado. Did you really think it would be that easy?”

Each word bit like sandpaper against Roman’s ears.

He growled, and stalked to the Dalek’s top half, snatching it up and quickly locating a tiny speaker.

“C’mon, Remus. End this stupid charade,” he said quietly, holding the casing to his face so he could speak quietly. “You’ve had your fun at my expense. Go back to your pile of severed limbs and gloat if you must, but end this. For Patton’s sake, if nothing else.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s out of my hands,” Remus responded; typically, annoyingly casual. “If you want to end the game, you have to come down here and find me.”

Roman exhaled, resting his head against the cold, bumpy metal for a moment. His eyes burned, but he was Prince; he wouldn’t cry, not here.

“Why must you make everything difficult?”

“Roman, in all seriousness,” Remus’s voice dropped. “I didn’t know you were taking Logan on a date tonight—”

“It’s not a date,” Roman hissed, glancing at the other Sides…one in particular.

“The Imagination brought me into this without asking, just like it pulled the others in,” Remus went on. “I am aware of what has to happen, but I did not cause this.”

“You’re lying,” Roman said tonelessly.

Remus’s whiny voice grew hard.

“I don’t lie, and you despise that about me. You hide so much shit from yourself that it baffles you when I refuse to do the same.”

“Look,” Remus added when Roman didn’t respond. “The Imagination is clearly trying to get our attention. Sure, it usually goes through one of us first, but it doesn’t have to. When it comes down to it, Thomas’s mind answers only to Thomas. ”

“How are you so sure?” Roman frowned.

Was Remus seriously suggesting the Imagination they both oversaw had gone rogue somehow?

“Because I don’t curate my side as meticulously as you do, brother.” Remus chuckled. “I listen. I let the Imagination do as she pleases, free from all those pesky ethics and morals and other boring boxes you always force her into, so that our sweet Thomas doesn’t fear the contents of his own head.”

“You expect me to believe that you know what’s going on because,” Roman let every ounce of disdain seep into his voice, “the Imagination talks to you, and not me…because you don’t make her behave?”

“You should try letting her loose sometimes,” Remus drawled, “or you’ll end up with a cane up your butt like Nerdy Wolverine over there.”

“Don’t call him that,” Roman spat.

“What you so-called ‘light sides’ always get wrong,” Remus went on, “is that the juicy stuff, the gruesome and grim, the ‘bad’ thoughts that filter up from the subconscious; they can’t all be locked away and ignored.” His voice dropped ominously. “Repression can be very bad indeed, you know.”

Roman’s reasonable nature knew that his brother, despite his infuriating attitude, was actually making some good points. Thomas had been dealing with a lot lately; the tension in the mindspace felt like a ticking clock, counting down to the next disaster.

But at that moment, Roman had no desire to humor his twin.

All he wanted to do was lock himself into his own room in the Dream Palace and spend the rest of the night writing sad poetry about love, or listing his mistakes to himself until he fell asleep.

“I just wanted to show Logan a good time,” he said aloud.

“And oh dear, apparently you couldn’t even manage that correctly,” Remus said, implacably. “So maybe you should use this opportunity to get your head out of your poopy ass, and reevaluate yourself.”

Roman slammed the Dalek shell against the floor.

It cracked upon impact, the wiring inside sparking and finally flickering down to darkness. He ran his hands through his hair, reminded, once again, why he hated talking to his brother.

Like looking in a funhouse mirror…

“Roman…” Patton sidled up behind him, laying a cold hand on his back. Roman shoved the metal arm away and stalked back to the others.

“Let’s just get this done,” he said in a low voice.

“You will need these,” the alien Janus said, pushing a button on a nearby console. A translucent vertical tube rose from a gap in the floor, holding three bulky black bracelets.

“Ah yes, I remember this,” Logan said, striding forward and taking a bracelet.

“They will prevent—” the Janus started.

“The nano cloud from converting us into Dalek puppets, yes?” Logan interrupted, snapping the bracelet onto his wrist and handing another to Roman.

The nerd is getting into this, Roman thought as he put it on. I guess that’s something.

“The cloud is only active in certain areas of the asylum,” the Janus warned them again. “And those change as different factions seize control of different areas and weaponize them.”

Patton hesitantly raised a hand.

“Um, Mx. Alien, I can’t help but notice that there are only three bracelets, and four of us?”

Logan frowned. “But Patton, why would you—?”

“I’m sure it’s because I’m part snake, Patton,” Janus interrupted smoothly, swooping in to grab the last bracelet and snapping it onto Patton’s arm.

Roman exchanged an alarmed look with Logan; that was the last bit of confirmation he needed. Patton really was unaware that he was a Cyberman.

But why on earth would Janus go to such lengths to keep him in the dark about it? Even leaving aside the fact that Patton was a walking weapon; being a machine, he didn’t need protection from the nano cloud at all.

Whereas Janus…probably did.

But when Roman opened his mouth, Janus shot him a look full of daggers and promises of pain, and shook his head. Roman rolled his eyes and mentally washed his hands of the situation.

Typical Deceit. Protecting his lies.

At least Patton would be twice-protected. If the snake wanted to risk his life for a lie, let him.

“The gravity beam will convey you close to the crashed starliner,” the alien Janus said, and then there were Dalek blasters being shoved into their backs, propelling them toward the hole in the floor.

“Oi,” Roman protested, “get your freaky little eggbeater appendages away from me, you AAAAHHHH!”

There was a push, and they were falling.

Chapter 7- Oxygen

“Look at this. Classic design. Pressure seals. Hinges. None of that ‘shuk shuk’ nonsense.”

“Space doors are supposed to go shuk shuk.”

“Are you gonna be like this all day?”

Janus was done.

He sat up with a groan, brushing snow from his jacket and vest, making sure his hat and gloves were still in place. Everything ached. Bad enough he never wanted to be part this stupid dream game in the first place; now he was probably going to literally turn into a Dalek.

All because the Imagination is being a dick and Patton doesn’t know he’s a killer robot.

Wind gusted around him, making Janus glad that the Master, like the Doctor, usually preferred long sleeves and a coat. He stood, turning in a slow circle as he took in the lay of the land. Nothing but snow and rocks; true to the episode, still.

The gravity beam had split into four as it hurled them at the planet, but Janus was reasonably sure at least one of the others had landed nearby.

He hoped it was Patton.

Not because he was concerned or anything. It was just that either of the others would be absolutely insufferable company, that’s all.

“Janus!” a metallic voice called, and Janus breathed a sigh of relief.

Patton’s Cyberman body clattered awkwardly down a nearby snowbank, sliding the last few feet to land in a heap.

“It is all kinds of chilly down here.” Patton stood, and waved rather nonsensically. “Hullo there, Janus, so ice to see you.”

Janus rolled his eyes. (He would deny to his dying day that the corner of his mouth twitched at the ridiculous pun.)

“If this scenario is consistent with its source material,” he said, gesturing to the closest ridge, “there should be an escape pod from that crashed ship nearby. Come on.”

He set off across the snow, Patton following in his wake.

“Say, what do snowmen call their offspring?”

Janus exhaled carefully. Hoo, boy, maybe Logan wouldn’t have been so bad…

“I haven’t the faintest.”

“Chill-dren!” Patton chortled at Janus’s grimace. “What did one snowman say to another?”

“St. Genesius spare me,” Janus grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What, pray tell, did one snowman say to another?”

“‘Do you smell carrots?’”

Janus quickly covered his mouth.

“You smiled,” Patton crooned.

“I most certainly did not.”

“Okay, okay, one more.” Patton scurried ahead and turned around, so that he was walking backwards. “Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?” Janus said flatly.

“Snow.” Patton hooked his thumbs into the metal rim at waist, like one might on a pair of pants. Janus swallowed and looked away.

“Snow who?”

“Snow laughing matter, Janus, I don’t know why you’re smiling.”

Janus snorted before he could hide it, and cleared his throat.

“I am not smiling, how dare you.”

“That’s twice now!” Patton cackled, the sound coming out all distorted. “Admit it.”

“I refuse,” Janus said, drawing himself up. “You won’t make a liar out of….”

Liar.

He felt the joke fall flat and cringed. Even though Patton’s metal face couldn’t react, those metal shoulders visibly stiffened.

Too soon.

Liar.

Too much history between them.

Besides, you are a liar, his mind whispered. Lies of omission are still lies, Deceit, and you’re doing that right now.

Janus gritted his teeth. They topped a ridge; the expected escaped pod lay half-buried near another ridge, across a flat stretch of snow. The two Sides glanced at each other and continued their journey in silence.

Patton seemed disinclined to continue his little pun war.

Janus badly wanted to say he hadn’t minded the punning, but truthfully, keeping silent was easier. Patton’s baffling ignorance over the state of his own “flesh” was starting to wear on Janus’s conscience. He knew the longer he kept it secret, the worse the fallout would be when Patton finally learned the truth.

The urge to come clean was an unfamiliar one for him, and extremely uncomfortable.

Ironic, the master liar, conflicted about maintaining a lie.

The old him would have laughed, but…the old him hadn’t heard the sincerity in Patton’s voice, when he’d spoken Janus’s true name aloud for the first time. The old him had assumed Thomas would reject him forever…because of Patton.

And then, with Janus still smarting from the sting of Roman’s mockery, Patton had said his name.

Patton had trusted him to take care of Thomas in his stead, when the moral Side knew he had failed at it. The memory still made all Janus’s scales tingle and his heart beat a little sideways.

The new him…this him…couldn’t find it in his small, shriveled, but very much present heart to risk pushing Patton away.

They reached the pod.

Muffled shouts and something that sounded like blaster fire filtered up from inside, making them exchange another glance.

Janus set a hand on the ice-crusted latch.

“Remember, we’ll have to fight our way through a bunch of dead Dalek puppets,” he reminded Patton.

“That’s a lot of noise for just a few puppets,” Patton said softly. “That canonically shouldn’t even be awake yet.”

“I know, and that is strange,” Janus agreed. “Maybe someone got here before us. But we won’t know exactly what to expect until we get down there.”

Patton sighed, a cloud of frost puffing out of his small, rectangular mouth.

Janus pushed the latch, popped his head in, and was met with a scene of utter chaos.

About six or seven human-Dalek puppets, with stalks sticking out of their heads and blasters sticking out of their hands, were locked in a fire fight with a horde of robotic humanoids that looked like they came from the Fourth Doctor’s era, if Janus remembered correctly. Round, bulky shoulders and faces that looked like metal sunbursts.

Both puppets and robots were using the seats as cover, blaster fire zinging back and forth and exploding against the walls in little showers of sparks. Janus and Patton would be directly in the blast zone when they jumped down, a little closer to the robot side.

“Well, someone definitely got here before us,” Janus muttered.

He withdrew his head and studied Patton. Honestly, with his metal body he’d be in far less danger, and those guns in his arms would actually be useful in this situation…but telling Patton he was a walking weapon, now, would definitely not go over well.

“The hatch down into the asylum should be in the cockpit of this thing,” he informed Patton. “There’s a lot of blaster fire, though, so—”

“—don’t get cold feet and hesitate?” Patton finished.

Something in Janus’s heart twisted…something he didn’t dare examine too closely.

“Say, Patton,” he said softly, looking away.

“Yes?”

“What did the hat say to the scarf?”

Patton turned his black Cyberman eyes on Janus.

“What?”

“‘You hang around, and I’ll go a-head’.” Janus let a smirk curl his lips.

Patton was silent for a moment, but then he began to giggle, covering his mouth.

Janus pulled out his sonic laser.

He dropped into the pod with a swing of his legs, catching one of the robots in its metal chest. It fell with a screech, careening into another of its kind, but by then Janus had gained his feet and ducked behind a seat. Patton clattered down behind, with less grace and far more noise…and a random Tivolian tumbled in directly after him.

Patton caught the rodent-faced alien with a startled shout, immediately dropping them again when they screamed and struggled. Janus blinked; where the hell did they come from?

The Tivolian tumbled across the pod’s floor, only making it a few feet before getting cut down with blaster bolts. Janus saw Patton cry out, and caught the Side before he could leap out and draw more hostile fire.

“It’s too late!” he shouted over the noise.

“I should have hung on!” Patton, if he’d had a proper face, would probably be in tears. He hated death. “I don’t know why they were so scared of me!”

Janus could answer that…

“I’m more curious about where they came from,” he said instead, frowning. “They surely weren’t up on the surface with us. It’s like they just teleported in, but Tivolians don’t teleport. They don’t have the technology—”

A blaster bolt exploded across the top of the seat they were hiding behind, showering them in sparks and forcing them both to duck.

“Janus!” Patton snapped. “We need to get out of here!”

“Right.” Janus brandished his sonic. “We’ll just have to run for it.”

He leaped out, activating his weapon, and discovered that a sonic laser had a very satisfying range and kickback. Forget the Doctor’s screwdriver, he thought, blasting a Dalek puppet aside and ducking another gun blast. I wonder if the Imagination will let me keep this…

A cold, dead hand seized the collar of his jacket, yanking him back.

Then there was a yell, a clatter, and Janus turned in time to see Patton blast a puppet with a fire extinguisher. The moral Side chuckled at Janus’s shocked expression.

“I’ve seen this episode too, you know,” he pointed out.

Janus huffed.

The two dodged and fought their way to the cockpit; Janus used his laser to seal the door behind them. For a moment they simply stood there, catching their breath.

(Well, Janus caught his. Did Patton even breathe, in that form?)

“Unauthorized personnel may not enter the cockpit.” Remus’s high-pitched voice came over the speaker system. “Unless it’s an actual pit full of cocks, in which case, where’s my invitation?”

Janus was going to need something a lot stronger than tea, once they finally got out of this mess.

“Remus, for god’s sake,” he grumbled.

“God has nothing to do with my cock, but if that’s how you want to roll…” One of the cockpit screens flickered to life, and there was Remus in all his ruffly, sparkly, mustached glory. Clara’s warm, messy cove spread out behind him, reds and yellows clashing horribly with the green of his sash.

Janus moved so that his chest and shoulders blocked the screen, to prevent Remus from catching sight of Patton. If Remus saw Patton as a Cyberman, Janus would never be able to convince him to keep his mouth shut.

“All right then, where do we find you?” Janus said. “And where did the others land? Not to mention our dear missing ball of anxiety.” He leaned forward, putting on his trademark smirk. “Come on, Re. You must know. One Other to another, you can tell me.”

“Aww, Jan Jan,” Remus crooned, also leaning forward. “You care.”

“I most certainly do not!” Janus sputtered, and cleared his throat. “Patton was worried about Virgil, that’s all.”

“I was?” Patton asked from the other side of the space. “I mean, of course I am, but—”

“But surely you can at least tell us why this scenario isn’t playing out quite like the episode it comes from,” Janus interjected smoothly. He didn’t want Remus to notice the metallic quality of Patton’s voice.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve already told you everything that I know.” Remus shrugged. “Roman really did give the Imagination too much freedom.”

Janus frowned.

“Then how do you know the scenario will end when we find you?”

“I actually don’t! Isn’t it great?” Remus crowed, clapping his hands. “I love stories where anything could happen. We could all get vaporized, or have our flesh eaten by—”

“Remus, focus.” Janus pitched the bridge of his nose. “So, given what we know of this particular episode, you’re assuming that our main tasks are to come get you, and to drop the forcefield on the planet so the Daleks can blow it up.”

“That’s the idea, Double Dee!”

Behind him, Janus heard Patton make a weird, choked noise, and grimaced.

“By the way, Roman and Logan are already inside the asylum.” Remus grinned, the whites of his eyes flashing. “So if you want to catch up, you’d better scute those scaly asscheeks along. Check the floor for a breach; that will be your way out. A breach, ha! Like a butth—”

Janus pointed his laser and fired on the screen, cutting the transmission and sending sparks flying all over the cockpit. An awkward silence fell in which he turned to face Patton, who of course wore no visible expression.

This, and all the reasons for it, annoyed him further.

“I swear if you ask one question about scutes or scales,” he warned, holding up a finger.

“I wasn’t…going to.” Patton held up his hands. “Logan kind of taught us how to tune out the more, er, naughty things Remus says. But I am wondering,” he added hesitantly. “Are you…feeling okay?”

“Fabulous. Peachy,” Janus said flatly, kneeling to feel around on the floor. “Fantastic, allons-y, geronimo, what have you.”

“It’s just, you seem a little angry,” Patton went on. “And you remember, that’s, that’s the first step in being converted. Maybe you should wear the bracelet for a while? We can trade on and off…”

Patton’s fingers went to his wrist, but Janus stopped him with a gloved hand on top.

Tell him, an inner voice whispered. Tell him now, before this gets any more awkward.

“That’s sweet of you, but no, I’m merely frustrated,” Janus admitted. “I would very much like to get out of here, so I can return to the pleasant evening I was having before all thisss.”

He gestured irritatedly around them.

Patton joined him on the floor and together they found a person-sized hole, with a rope ladder hanging down.

“Hey, Janus,” Patton murmured, as they were about to start the long climb down. “Can I ask you something?”

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to ask no matter what I say?” Janus said wryly.

“Do you remember when that puppet attacked you in the main part of the ship, and I fought it off with the fire extinguisher?” Patton ducked his head.

Janus raised an eyebrow.

“They hesitated, when they saw me.” Patton’s unnaturally black eyes met Janus’s. “That’s why I had time to grab the extinguisher.”

Janus swallowed, his heart starting to pound.

“Well, I’m sure they aren’t used to anyone fighting back—”

“No, they hesitated like…like I scared them or something,” Patton pressed. “It was weird, Janus. Please. If there’s something you need to tell me…you know you can.”

Janus’s mouth compressed into a flat line and he looked away, bitterness welling up inside him.

“Can I, Patton?” he asked softly, holding up a gloved hand. A yellow indictment of everything he was. “Can I really?”

Patton sighed, long and deep.

“Touché.”

Chapter 8- Extremis

“Something’s coming. And I’m blind. How can I see them when I’m lost in the dark?”

Logan awoke to someone shaking him.

He opened his eyes to an expanse of blurry blobs and color splotches, and Roman’s sharp, frantic face very close to his. His eyes have amber flecks, his brain noted inanely. But why is he clear when nothing else is…?

Roman threw his head back and exhaled in obvious relief when Logan groaned, blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

“Singing chimeras, Specs, I was starting to worry.”

Logan sat up and touched his bare face. Ah, there’s the problem.

“Where are my glasses?”

Roman was quiet.

Logan leaned closer to the other Side, squinting. Bad eyesight was such an annoyance. If only Thomas’s developing brain hadn’t decided early on that “smart and logical” also meant “stereotypically nerdy”, and pigeonholed his own sense of Logic into actually requiring corrective eyewear.

“Roman?” Logan tried again.

“Um. About that.”

Roman bit his lip, and handed over a smashed set of frames. Logan’s stomach sank as he examined them; the lenses were shattered beyond repair.

“I found them next to you like that, when I woke up,” Roman explained. “I’ve been trying to summon another pair, but for some reason the Imagination won’t let me!”

Logan pushed down a growing sense of dread, that he’d have to navigate the rest of this adventure half-blind.

“My glasses getting broken is obviously not your fault. We did fall down a rather deep hole,” he pointed out. “But what do you mean, the Imagination isn’t letting you?”

“I mean it’s not letting me!” Roman threw up his hands. “I could summon things on the TARDIS just fine, but now…” He sighed. “I am Creativity, right?”

Logan tilted his head and frowned.

“Is that…Roman, that is a nonsensical question. Of course you are.”

“So summoning a tiny object in my own dream scenario should be easy.” Roman hung his head.

“How long have you been trying?”

“Twenty minutes, maybe?” Roman shrugged, still not looking at him. “All that time, and yet still I fail.”

Logan resisted the urge to point out that twenty minutes should be long enough to realize a thing might be outside of one’s control, and to start brainstorming other options.

Stubborn fool.

“Maybe it’s just as well we picked the wedding over the callback,” Roman added darkly, an uncharacteristic glower twisting his face. “When Thomas’s Creativity apparently can’t even control his own dreams.”

Oh…this isn’t about glasses at all, is it? Logan swallowed around an achy sensation in his chest; the one he always got when something was wrong and Roman made that face and he just…needed to fix it.

Native English speakers have a passive vocabulary of around forty thousand words, he thought, frustrated. So why, in situations like this, am I constantly struggling to find the right thing to say?

The resigned set to Roman’s jaw prompted Logan to try.

“Your inability to summon things may not be your doing,” Logan said, laying a hand on Roman’s knee. “Perhaps the Imagination is attempting to impose a sense of realism on this adventure.”

“Realism,” Roman echoed flatly. “In Doctor Who.”

Logan huffed. “You must admit, summoning objects out of thin air does defy even time-traveling alien logic.”

Roman’s face twitched in the tiniest of smiles. “So why did it work before, Teach?”

“Maybe it only worked on the TARDIS because the ship already defies every known rule of physics.” Logan shrugged. “I admit I cannot possibly intuit the inner workings of the Imagination; I can only theorize from what I have observed thus far.”

Roman chuckled softly to himself, and bumped Logan’s shoulder.

“Aww, Nerd, I’m touched. You’re trying to logic me into feeling better.”

“Is it…working?” Logan asked.

“Kind of?” An unreadable expression flitted over Roman’s face. “At least one of us is still grounded in reality.”

“Where else could one possibly be grounded?”

Roman laughed outright at this.

“Oh, Logan. Never change, okay?”

He stood up, and pulled Logan to his feet as well.

“Where are we?” Logan asked, squinting.

He could tell they were in some large, open space; all blacks and browns and dull grays. Blurry domes of copper were scattered amongst what could be bits of fallen scaffolding or machinery.

Logan was also hyperaware of Roman’s warm arm pressed against his, and his own hand clasped tightly within the Prince’s larger grip. With everything else blurry, physical sensations were all the more distracting.

“Don’t panic, okay?” Roman started.

Logan scoffed.

“You are fortunate that I am not Virgil,” he commented wryly. “Because starting a sentence like that would almost certainly have caused him to panic.”

“Well, it’s just, do you remember that scene in the Dalek asylum episode where Rory wakes up in the hanger full of dead Daleks who turn out to be not actually dead?” Roman said in a rush. “Because…yeah.”

Oh. Logan swallowed.

“So, I am guessing that those copper domes are actually Daleks?” he said softly.

Roman snorted.

“Copper domes? Jeesh, your eyesight sucks.”

“I am aware,” Logan said flatly. “Which means you will have to guide us out. If I remember correctly, as long as we are quiet and don’t kick any pipes on the ground, we won’t wake them up.”

Roman let go of Logan’s hand… and replaced it with an arm wrapped around his waist. Logan only held back a squeak because it would have been extremely undignified.

“Hey, relax, I got you, Specs.” Roman’s breath ghosted over Logan’s ear. The Prince’s shorter stature allowed him to fit snugly against Logan’s side; if Roman turned his head, he could comfortably tuck his face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

Not…not that Logan imagined him doing any such thing.

Roman drew his sword with a metallic rasp, prompting Logan to pull out his screwdriver, and they set off across the floor.

It was a strange, vulnerable sensation, Logan thought, being this close to another, being forced to rely on him for direction…or maybe it was just that Roman’s Rose Tyler outfit left so much more skin on display than his usual royal attire…

To be fair, Roman’s bare arms and short skirt and leggings were the only non-blurry things in Logan’s line of sight at the moment.

“You know, I am not sure how much good a sword will do against a Dalek now,” Logan said dryly (to distract himself). “Since it would seem that the Imagination is now attempting to be realistic.”

“It’ll be a lot more useful than a screwdriver,” Roman retorted. “Honestly, the War Doctor had a point. The later seasons really do start to treat the sonic like a weapon, and it looks ridiculous. There’s an oily-looking puddle to your left.”

They dodged around it.

“The sonic screwdriver is an ingenious, multipurpose tool,” Logan argued. “Fitting for a character who is, at heart, a pacifist. In the right hands, it most certainly could serve as a weapon. For example one could scramble a Cyberman’s circuits, short out fuses, or calculate the precise amount of blunt force needed to take down an enemy.” Logan waved the hand with the screwdriver around them. “All things that a sword could not accomplish.”

“Sure,” Roman drawled, leading them around one of the still, silent Daleks, “but you don’t point a sonic at an oncoming Dalek and expect to survive. Even the Doctor had more sense than to try that. At least a sword could cut off its blaster arm.”

“We don’t know how strong Dalek amor is down here,” Logan pointed out. “You could end up breaking your sword and then where would we be?”

“Better off than we’d be while you assembled a cabinet at them!”

Logan’s foot collided with a metallic something that made an awful CLANG and went skittering across the floor. Roman pulled them up short, his face going pale.

All around them, round blue lights began to flicker on, one by one.

“I kicked the pipe, didn’t I?” Logan said, his heart starting to pound.

“You kicked the pipe,” Roman confirmed in a sick voice.

“EGGS…!” a crackly Dalek voice next to them stuttered, making them jump. “EG-EG-EG-EGGS…!” Its twin lights flashed erratically as it spoke.

“Roman,” Logan started.

“‘Eggs, you may laugh and that’s great…’” Roman sang in a wavering voice. “‘Your smiles are what make my day’…”

The Dalek rolled toward them creakily. “EEEEEGGS!”

Logan’s breathing sped up. Another Dalek rolled in from the other side, causing him to stumble. All around them, mechanical creaks and groans and a chorus of digitized voices rose up…

“EG…EG-EGGS…TERM…”

“Roman, I believe we need to run.” Logan could see the Dalek almost clearly now, its eyestalk glowing, its gunstick rising up.

“…IN…ATE…”

Blurry, flashing lights closed in.

“‘My self-worth’s fragile like an egg,’” Roman sang. The hand gripping Logan’s middle tightened painfully. “‘When it breaks it’s tough to put together again…’”

“EX…TERM…IN…ATE!”

“Roman!” Logan shouted. “Get us out of here!”

“EXTERMINATE!”

A blaster bolt warbled past and exploded over their heads.

Roman shuddered and seemed to snap out of it, seizing Logan’s arm and pulling him so hard he nearly fell. Logan staggered, hanging onto Roman’s hand for dear life as they ran, and ran, and blaster bolts burst at their feet and shattered around them.

“This way, boys and boys,” Remus’s voice sing-singed across the room. Roman yanked them hard in that direction.

“REMUS!” Roman shouted as they ran, and Logan was impressed he had the breath for it. “Remus, you better open that door like you’re supposed to or we are DEAD!”

“Oh, keep your pants on, brother,” Remus snarked, sounding a little closer. “Although maybe Logan would prefer that you didn’t—”

Whatever else he said wasn’t audible over a hanger full of jabbering Daleks and firing blasters.

They reached a wall and Roman shoved Logan down.

“Straight ahead, crawl. Go, go, go!” he said, turning and brandishing his sword.

Bless that Prince and his stupid, stupid bravery.

Logan went, nearly tripping over his coat as he crawled under the barely lifted hatch door. Once he was past the threshold Roman flung himself under and through, knocking into Logan and sending them both sliding across the floor.

There was a hiss and a heavy thud that Logan hoped was the door shutting behind them, and finally, blessed silence. They both leaned against the wall for a moment, catching their breath.

Roman thunked his head back.

“Jesus Christ Superstar,” he muttered.

“Your welcome.”

Remus’s voice crackled through the hallway. Roman growled and sat up straighter, looking around as if his brother would magically appear.

“I did just save your lives,” Remus added. From the direction of the sound, Logan guessed he was talking through a speaker somewhere on the far wall.

“Yeah, and I’m still gonna whip your butt when this is all over,” Roman groused.

“Oooh, do I get to choose the instrument?”

Roman sputtered, but Logan grabbed his arm before he could yell back.

“You know he just likes to get under your skin,” he murmured, and raised his voice. “Thank you for opening the door, Remus. We are grateful for your help.”

There was a silence on the other end, with a quality that Logan would have described as shocked.

“Well. You two lovebirds better move along,” Remus drawled finally, shrill as ever. “Before the Silurian army shows up.”

“Excuse me, the WHAT?” Logan exclaimed.

No answer.

“Remus!” Roman clambered to his feet and helped Logan up.

Nothing.

Except now that Logan was listening for it, he definitely heard approaching footsteps and murmuring, heavily-accented voices. And they were getting closer.

“That dick,” Roman grumbled through gritted teeth.

“To be fair, I think he is trying to help,” Logan pointed out. “In his own way.”

“Don’t be fair to my brother when he’s just led us out of the frying pan and into the fire.”

“We are neither in a pan nor on fire, Roman; I have never understood that saying—”

The lights dimmed and flashed an eerie purple; Roman silenced him with a hand over his mouth. There was a voice…not Remus’s, not alien, not like anything Logan had ever heard. It chanted something, over and over again, before fading out.

The lights flared back to normal.

Logan waited, counting Roman’s shallow breaths against his neck.

Nothing.

“What was that?” he asked softly.

“Beats the hell out of me,” Roman responded. “But I guess that’s our cue to go. Stay close, Mr. Magoo.”

Logan grumbled, but allowed Roman to recapture his hand and lead them in the opposite direction of the approaching footsteps…which had resumed the moment the purple light vanished.

Next time Roman asked him to come on an adventure, he was bringing a spare set of glasses.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #doctor who #thomas sanders #canon compliant #action #adventure #romance #roman sanders #logan sanders #deceit sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #ts sides #ts roman #ts logan #ts deceit #ts patton #ts remus #ts virgil #logince #moceit #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #bickering #enemies to friends #rivals to lovers

[sunnyskiesmike]

Saving Grace || Michael Clifford AU - Chapter One

Setting: Los Angeles, 2015

TW: Child abuse

* 

Michael twiddled his thumbs nervously as he waited for his girlfriend of three years, Amy, to join him outside of the car. Their black Jeep was parked beneath a small oak tree, morning sunlight reflecting off of the shiny paint. Amy was still scrolling through her phone, transfixed with what was probably some Instagram post or Snapchat story.

Michael's hand reached into his left side pocket, where the small velvet box was concealed. His heart began to pound as he ran his thumb over the smooth material, the reminder of the events to come. He closed his eyes as he recollected the night before.

"Let's go to the park tomorrow morning, Amy." He had said before shoving another forkful of dinner into his mouth. "The weather's supposed to be quite nice, and you and I are both off of work."

Amy had smiled at him. "I'm always up for the park."

Michael was brought back to the present when Amy touched his arm. "You okay, Mikey?" she asked, wrapping her arm around his and leaning her head against his shoulder. Michael swallowed hard.

"Yes, yes I am." he replied, forcing a smile. Amy furrowed her eyebrows, but followed along as he began to lead them down a gravel trail.

Trees decorated both sides of the path, leaves green with the new growth of early spring. Michael loved spring. Everything was so fresh and vibrant; a symbol of new beginnings.

New beginnings.

He led Amy across the wooden bridge that the pair had crossed so many times. They'd had their first kiss here, three years ago to the date. There was no fancy music or cheesy words spoken; just the sound of wind rustling the trees and water rushing below, just as it was today.

Michael felt his stomach rise into his throat as they approached a large oak tree. They'd sat under it many times for picnics, long talks, and even stargazing one night. Something was special about that tree. He wasn't sure if it was the way the leaves fanned out so perfectly that they created a canopy of shade, or how the trunk was so wide that Michael and Amy could sit side-by-side with their backs against it, just to relax. Perhaps it was simply because they sat beneath it when he asked Amy to be his girlfriend. Whatever it was, Michael knew it was the place where he was going to ask.

"Are we going to have another one of our long talks about the meaning of life?" Michael was snapped from his thoughts by Amy's teasing tone. He rolled his eyes playfully and nudged her.

"Not this time." he replied as they crossed from sunlight to shade beneath the tree. His heart began to race yet again, his mouth going dry. Nothing was going to take away this moment from the two of them, absolutely nothing.

"Amy," Michael decided to get straight to the point. "I.... I wanted to tell you that I love you. More than anything, you know that. You've taken these past three years and turned them into something wonderful for me. I only hope you can say the same for yourself. I'd be absolutely lost without you, which is why I want to spend the rest of my life with you." he reached his hand into his pocket to grab the box. Amy's eyes began to sparkle. She knew what was coming. Michael gave a trembling smile.

"Amy," he began as he prepared to kneel. "Will yo-"

His query was cut off by a loud, sharp cry that caused the couple to jump. Amy looked at Michael with a look that said "what the hell?"

Michael turned around to face the trunk of the tree. Another cry, this time softer, came from behind it. He wondered if it was an animal of some sort. What a strange animal, to cause a cry that was almost human.

Amy's natural curiosity took over, and she walked over to investigate. Michael's heart dropped. His moment had been ruined. He hung his head and begrudgingly followed behind her, feeling slightly pissed that some dumb animal would tear away Amy's attention from him.

"Babe," he called. "I'm sure it's no-"

"SH!" Amy hissed, sounding frantic. Michael looked up to see her crouching, absolutely frozen with her hand held out in front of her. Her eyes were locked on something behind the tree with an expression of horror.

"What is it?" Michael whispered, slowing his steps as he came up behind her. She used her other hand to quietly pat the ground beside her. Perplexed, Michael slowly walked around her to sit.

Please be a dog. He thought. It better be a dog.

He peered around the large tree trunk as he sat down. His breath hitched his throat as the subject of Amy's attention came into focus.

A tiny child stared up at them, looking nothing less than petrified. She was an absolute wreck; her clothes were dirty and torn, her hair was matted, her skin was covered with dirt, bruises, and scrapes. She looked like a feral child.

"Oh my God..." Amy whispered, one hand covering her mouth. The child flinched, letting out a scream that caused both adults to jump.

"No, shhhh," Amy soothed, slowly backing away to give the toddler some space. "It's okay, we won't hurt you."

The tiny child furrowed her eyebrows as she stared up at the pair. She seemed to be interested in Michael's unnaturally bright red hair, but her gaze quickly shifted to the ground.

"No hurt Starlin.." she mumbled, her voice delicate, just barely above a whisper.

"Starlin." Michael repeated. "Is that your name, sweetie?" he was now on one knee, crouched down to try and get closer to the child's height. She was tiny, her size making her look no bigger than a year old.

She nodded in response, rocking side to side with her arms folded across her stomach. Michael gave her a kind smile.

"That's a nice name." he replied. "My name is Michael. This girl right here next to me is Amy."

"Where are your parents, honey?" Amy asked. Starlin recoiled at the mention of her mom and dad, her face twisting with fear.

"Bye-bye." was all she responded with. Michael and Amy looked at each other, the same look of confusion written across both of their faces.

"I'm gonna call 911." Amy said, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. She dialed the three numbers before placing her phone to her ear.

Michael took this opportunity to try and talk to Starlin a bit more. "How old are you, Starlin?" he asked, grunting as he sat down on the grass, criss-crossing his legs. Starlin took a step back, hugging herself tighter.

"M'two..." she mumbled, continuing to rock herself for a moment before slowly sitting down in front of Michael, mimicking the way he crossed his legs. Michael slowly reached his arm out.

"It's gonna be okay." he assured her as he listened to Amy chatter to the police dispatcher about their location. "We have some nice people coming to help you."

Starlin retracted, pulling her body away from Michael's hand as if she were afraid of what it was capable of. Michael stared at her, astonished. How could a child so young be so mistrusting of adults? The marks on her body gave Michael his answer, each bruise and wound a symbol of the pain they couldn't have possibly known about before finding her. However, while bruises would heal, the irreversible emotional damage had already been done. Starlin obviously had absolutely no trust for other human beings.

What did they do to you? Michael asked inside his head, as if he could communicate with her telepathically. If I were your dad, I would make sure you never got hurt again.

He felt his facial features soften even more as the toddler yawned, fists rubbing at her eyes. Michael wondered how long she had been at the park. Even if he could get her to speak more than a couple of words, she was far too young to understand a concept of time. It could have been anywhere from minutes to hours, hours to days. Michael felt his heart break for this little girl who obviously had never known love or comfort.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't even notice he still had his arm outstretched towards Starlin. He felt slight pressure against his fingers, rushing him back to the moment.

She was holding his hand. Her body was rigid, her other hand covering her face as if she expected him to lash out. Michael swore for a moment that his heart stopped. He remained as relaxed as possible, not wanting to tense and scare her. He slowly and gently wrapped his fingers around her tiny hand, causing her to wince for a moment.

"It's okay," he assured gently. "C'mon, it's gonna be okay. Do you want a drink of water?" he asked. Starlin's eyes grew wide as she instinctively licked her lips. They seemed dry.

Amy rejoined Michael at his side, her phone in hand. Starlin jumped and covered her face.

"Wait, shhh, it's okay.." Michael cooed. "That's my friend, remember?"

"There's paramedics and police on their way." Amy said softly, touching Michael's shoulder. He nodded shortly, moving slowly as to not scare Starlin.

"Can I have your water bottle?" he asked, looking up at Amy. Amy furrowed her eyebrows and handed it to him. He twisted off the cap and stuck it in his pocket.

"C'mon little girl, I know you want something to drink." he urged, ever so patient as he waited for Starlin to look up. When she did, her eyes locked on the water bottle. Michael carefully brought it to her lips with intent to help her. However, the moment her little hands wrapped around the bottle, she took off running back behind the tree. Startled, Amy and Michael exchanged glances before sneaking back over to the tree.

Starlin sat against the trunk, taking big greedy gulps of the water, barely stopping to breathe. Michael slowly sat beside her again, but she hardly acknowledged his existence.

"Little one, slow down," he mused, reaching his hand out for the water bottle. "You're gonna cho-"

He was cut off by Starlin suddenly spitting out a mouthful of water as she began to cough violently. Amy rushed to her side and rubbed her back as Michael took the bottle from her hands, Starlin too busy choking to react. She spit up a little before reaching for the bottle again.

"Wait just a minute, you're going to make yourself sick." Michael said, setting the water bottle aside. She frowned, but complied. She inched herself towards Michael and Amy, taking half steps as she approached them. Finally, she turned around and sat herself between the two of them. However, she remained silent. The two young adults glanced down at her, both pondering ways to unlock the world that had been trapped away.

Before long, they could see the blue and red flashing lights through the trees. Help had arrived. Michael and Amy glanced down at Starlin. If they could barely touch her, how were they supposed to get her to the paramedics?

"Starlin," Amy called her by name. "Can I pick you up?"

Starlin vigorously shook her head no in response before turning around and pointing to Michael. "You." she said.

Michael furrowed his eyebrows. "Me what?" he asked. Starlin reached her arms up, and Michael got the message. He carefully lifted her onto his hip, frowning upon seeing the slightly hurt look on Amy's face.

"There are some people here to help you." he told Starlin as they began walking in the direction of the large vehicles. Starlin began shaking her head no, her hands latching onto his shirt.

"I know you're scared, but we promise it'll be alright." Amy soothed as they continued walking. Paramedics began jumping out of the large white ambulance and preparing for Starlin. Michael and Amy watched as they opened the back doors and pulled out a stretcher.

Starlin began to scream, desperately clinging to Michael and delving her face in his neck. There was absolutely no way she was going to let any other people touch her without a fight. It seemed that all adults besides this boy and this girl only wanted to scare or hurt her.

Once they got close, one of the EMTs rushed to them and took Starlin from Michael's arms. She screeched and began flailing her limbs in a pathetic attempt to escape. Michael and Amy followed close behind the EMT as he ran back to the car and placed Starlin on the stretcher.

"You two did the right thing," he said, his voice raised over Starlin's cries of fear. "We'll take it from here."

Michael and Amy exchanged a glance before looking back down at Starlin. She was thrashing against the EMT who was trying to get an IV in her arm, her eyes wide with the same terror that was there when she had first met the couple. She was crying, but no tears came from her eyes. Despite the water she had drank, she was still dehydrated.

"No." Amy replied to the EMT. "We want to go with her. She has no family to be there."

The EMT stared at her for a brief moment before giving the two a nod. "Only one of you can ride in the ambulance, however."

Amy looked at Michael. "You go." she said. "She'll let you get close."

Michael smiled empathetically and pulled the car keys out of his pocket, handing them to her. "Be safe. I'll meet you there."

"I love you." Amy said, kissing him on the cheek.

"I love you too." Michael replied. He turned and began walking to the ambulance, where they were loading the stretcher into the back. Starlin cried out and fought the EMT who was holding her down to prevent her from running away.

Michael climbed into the back and sat beside the stretcher. Starlin's cries quieted a little when she noticed he was there, but they didn't stop. Michael jumped at the sudden sound of the sirens outside of the vehicle, and became slightly off balance for a moment as the vehicle began to move.

Starlin gripped onto his hand tightly, reaching her other arm out to him as if asking for him to pick her up. An IV was attached to her small hand.

Michael sighed and rubbed her hand with his thumb as her cries grew louder, above the sounds of the sirens. She was so frightened, so mistrusting. Michael felt as if he'd betrayed her by letting the paramedics take her away from the small moment of comfort she'd had.

He hung his head and rubbed at his face.

What had he gotten himself into?

•

•

And that's the first chapter! I hope you all enjoy!

Ciao!

- Hannah

#michael clifford fanfiction #5sos fanfic #michael clifford au #dad!sos #dad!michael #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke hemmings

[roswellroamer]

Nata Lodge to Tuuthebe Lodge, Letlhakane, Botswana. 320km. 5/2/19.

Today was a very memorable day. I rode so hard literally the wheel came off my bike! But first, I woke in the "foreigners" chalet rooming with my Aussie mates Andy & Jim. Great place with both toilet and shower placed in separate but outside rooms. Very nicely appointed with some sliding glass and screen doors out onto the back deck. The whole lodge had loads of sand around and after getting out of my kit the previous afternoon, I was barefoot the whole previous day as it felt like being at the beach. At least until you try to ride a motorcycle through it! Made to order breakfast at 7AM kitted up and I also need to mention that we had a bush baby looking over us last night at dinner. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galago 👀

We met some more Americans and some part time Americans who live 3 months out of the year in Cape Town. We were planning to make it today to the Makgadikgadi salt pan today. https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Makgadikgadi_Pan

The tar road route there was about 400km but Gavin had scouted a path with the GPS and some locals, I don't think I can call it a road though it was, to cut the distance and to challenge the group to a bit of sand and exploration across Botswana. The first 40km or so were manageable for me. Not one vehicle seen all day on this path. There was some sand and some rutted river crossings (dry riverbed) and detours but we all made it. Apparently one of the rocks must've pinched the tire and tube pretty hard because during one stretch I could feel my front wheel not tracking as well and started to gear it making sound as it dies when losing air. So fortunate I was that within about a km or so the group stopped. By now my tire was properly flat. Gavin unstrapped his tools and he and Baz went to work. Within twenty minutes my tube was replaced. Very impressive. So my early comment 👆 about the wheel coming off may have been a bit misleading. But now with the wheel back on and tire inflated we continued along dirt, rock, sand, dry river beds, cows and fencing. Lots of elephant dung and trampled fences due to their presence but we saw none. A few hills and some wide open spaces. I hit one river crossing particularly hard and wasn't standing. I just find it tough to stand when my brain is telling me I am in imminent danger of being hurled from the bike... To this point I thought I was gonna lose it a couple times when I would lose the track through a deep rut and get tossed violently. The bike is really fantastic when you are confident enough to accelerate through so many obstacles. Massive holes, sand, huge bumps, etc. At this one spot, where I hit hard I immediately felt pain. I don't know what I did but I felt it the rest of the day and needed to stand more to keep it from hurting which was better for my riding technique. Now at the end of the day it has subsided and I suspect just a muscle strain. Phew. For the rest of this group with more off road experience they really enjoy this technical stuff. Most of the unpaved stuff is and has been fun for me. However the other 5% has been unnerving. I feel as if I have survived those stretches by will, and acceleration and by sheer good fortune. Two more guys laid it down in the sand today. 5 of the 7 bikes have been down. After that painful river hit I had to go even slower. One after another I would reach a technical river crossing and just shake my head. You can't stop to really dissect the terrain since your momentum is key to carrying you through the ever changing challenge of where your tires are gonna track. So in you go. Twist the throttle and pray that the seemingly 30° arcs both wheels are taking independently from each other don't cause you to do a tank slapper. After 50km we came to a flat area that didn't look too bad from afar. But the tracks had washed out and been replaced with lots of loose sand. I must admit I was swearing to myself a bit as I was tossed side to side unexpectedly through this section. Then I noticed 6 bikes on top of the next hill about a half km ahead. Both feet out pretending to my brain that it might help me from wrecking even though it would prolly only cause a fractured leg if serious calamity had arisen. I plodded through the thick stuff. Venturing far left of where the road was supposed to be at times. But I wobbled my way through with plenty of close calls and scaled the last hill to the welcome cheers of the group. I did feel good I hadn't laid it down as the guys said it was tough and technical to a man. But I don't feel I am mastering deep sand at all and I'm just feeling my mortality when I get in it. The last 15 km or so to the tar was fortunately not nearly as technical and we hit the tar aiming for Orapa. We had our second chat of the day with a veterinary guard who came over to talk with us and wish us a nice journey since we opted to stop just past her post. The other one was really personable (early in the day right where we started the dirt/sand road after leaving Nata) and was after us for conversation and sweets. 🍬

The next stop was at a crossroad. Right was towards the Makgadikgadi pan with the massive alluvial diamond mine looming a mile or so ahead of us. As a side note at one of these mines near here just 3 days ago the worlds second largest diamond was just discovered! 1761 carats. 💎 We needed fuel since it was about 70km each way to and from the pan, so we went left and maybe 10km into Letlhakane. First traffic we have seen in a while. Not a lot of cars, but a stop sign and everyone turning in somewhere and just slow. We got gas and for the fourth day in a row (at least) grabbed a bite at the gas station. There just are no decent places to stop for lunch. I grabbed an egg salad and tomato sandwich and some sort of green tea drink. This trip to the pan was always a question mark. Not much of a road to it. Perfect time of year to visit it as it is and has been dry. Like Bonneville, you could ride anywhere on the salt and there are some islands (as these flats fill with water in the rainy season) with big rocks and baobab trees. We waited about twenty minutes or so for the bakkie to meet us as they were restocking in town. After that we ran out of tar after maybe 20km of the 70 to the salt. We had to ask some folks how to go since it seemed most sandy trails were on someone's property last Kubu station. After about 2 km more the sand got deep. I really didn't think it was a good idea to try and make it. I stopped and took a pic of the sand. I told the guys in the bakkie that I was turning around. We set a place to meet back at the same crossroad and I slogged my way for a bit before finding some firmer sand then soon after on the tar. I was doing some reflection today. The deep stuff was over my head, at least figuratively. It is a fine line between adrenaline and fear when pushing yourself in unfamiliar areas and surfaces. I decided I didn't want to risk the rest of my ride to try and make it to the pan. I was just organizing my thoughts to pen this post thinking I would have at least a couple hours when I thought I heard a bike. Yep. Barry then the rest of the crew showed up not 15' behind me. They had reached a similar conclusion due to depth of sand and length of daylight since it was already pushing 4PM.

We rolled straight to the Tuuthebe lodge and were pleasantly surprised by the size and quality of our rooms. The guys had bought stuff for a braai and we had a great night outside with John grilling up sausages, ribs, and chicken. We also had baked beans and potato salad and plenty of beer. I streamed some decent music on Sean's Bluetooth speaker and the icing on the cake was when our neighbor Seabi who works for a diamond mine got down on one knee and proposed to his girlfriend Atlang. She said yes! 💍 And it's time for me to say goodnight. Well after midnight. 😴 Baz' word of the day is strafdop. It is a punishment drink required to be bought by the person that screws something up.

#motoadventure #botswana #africatwin #africatwinadventures

[herdeepesthoughtsblog]

Life Lately

Hey guys! So this was supposed to be TSC 5th, but I didn't posted last week because, well, you know life happens.

I had a lot to do and even though I am really setting aside time to pause and reflect, write for myself, it's just that... stuff pile up pretty quickly and after crossing one to-do's, there's another one that I forgot to do way back two weeks ago.

See, procrastination deteriorates your productivity. So never again! If you have something you can do right now, at this very moment, do it right now.

Besides, if it's important to you, you will MAKE THE TIME.

Well, lesson learned. This safe haven of mine, my tumblr blog is important to me. Not only bc it makes my head clutter-free but also bc this is my only way of a creative outlet for now.

So, not gonna promise, but I'll try to be at least consistent here in this space. As if someone's reading here or stalking me or anything but, I could care less.

Curious? Let's get this Sunday rollin' baby!

CURRENTLY

READING: The Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. I need a quick escape from my last reading, The 4-Hour Work Week... Still haven't finished it yet! Although I'm on the last part of the book, I need to desperately drag myself just to get by to one chapter a day. I don't want to give it up yet but Idk, I'm not in the right motivational space to continue either. I've been meaning to buy new books from my TBR, can't believe it's been two months and I'm still on the shelf-control and book buying ban phase.

WRITING: My pending article from my writing gig (hope to finish even just the rough draft tho!) I'm a week late but well, great quality writing takes time, yes?

LISTENING: Lady Marmalade (brushing my basic knowledge of the romantic language, French) yet I speak like a dummy 5 yrs old.

THINKING: A lot of things. It seems like every drawer on my highly-organized mind is open wide and I can't even proceed on how and where to start, what to share or whether what is okay to share.

SMELLING: Hand sanitizer neutral scent and my freshly clean furr balls!

WISHING: For extra hours beyond the 24 hours a day?

HOPING: That this coming week will be full of fulfillment, accomplishment, joyful intentions, good news, and abundance + blessings.

Well, I have one good news to share! I got the job offer!!! Still can't believe it. Idk, it seems surreal, I'm still in that shookt stage. But this is real, it's actually happening. I have accepted it and signed. I'll be committed into this.

I am ethereal grateful for all the opportunities that came my way, and God answering my prayers. He really does listen.

So it means that, this is it! This is the one big shot I've been chasing all my life and I can't wait to start working soon!

I've already secured and achieved my main goal for this Q1. I'm forever thankful, blessed, humbled, and happy. Patience is really something I got to work out! But in the end, it all turned out fine.

I feel like everything is now falling perfectly into place. I am contented in my life and glad about the little things. Even just having a warm cooked meal makes me melt.

This is it! This will be my stepping stone towards achieving that career.

I also hope that I'll be able to process the pre-employment requirements within this week. I'm just a bit nervous because of all the waiting game, the time it would take to get cleared and verified identification, all that stuff. I hope I can start afresh, renewed, and at my best. No more follow-ups, I hope I'll be able to complete it this week!

WEARING: An oversized sports tee, with comfy shorts.

NEEDING: More assurance, I guess? But where else I could have it? I have to train to calm my mind first and don't be a fucking nervous-wreck.

I also need a new haircut! Maybe I'll cut my hair short because new job, new look! And also I'm inspired by Aileen Xu of Lavendaire about cutting hair can also means cutting those old energies that are holding you back.

This will be a perfect opportunity for me to start fresh and confidently, of course. I think I also need to spice it up a bit by hair coloring. Any suggestions?

FEELING: Stoked! I have a lot to look forward this week and can you believe after that, we're on the 3rd month of 2022?

Today's a cool day anyway, 02-20-2022

A lot of 0s and 2s.. My boyfriend notice.

So anyway, looking back at the past week, I do enjoy our Valentine's. We eat out dinner at this aesthetically pleasing fishing vilage resto near the area. We exchanged gifts and we celebrated in love and peace.

It's also the week I received the best news in my life and I received a huge opportunity that I can't pass. I don't want to screw it up. No pressure because, I'm just plain happy, I got my dream/ideal job, it was offered to me, they were keen in selecting me. I was humbled by the experience, I don't want it to stay too much in my head.

What I'm really overjoyed is that this particular job is at the top of my list and all the parameters I set, it even exceeded my expectations of that. Location wise, career or job role wise, etc.

Dreams do come true, do they?

IDK anymore, all I know is this is it! I'm commited to this, I'll do my best. God let me have this once in a lifetime opportunity for a reason. The right reason.

My ticket to thriving career and successful life. Parents, friends, pi, self, I'm gonna make you all proud. This is all for you!

Another highlight of my week is we finally got the vaccine booster shot. Thankfully we were given a choice so I chose Pfizer, bc why not?

But then it made me weak for one whole day, my right arm swelling in numbness and internal pain. Some sort of mild side effect. But I'm cleared and all good!

So, I hope you had a great week and more amazing days to come.

I hope that whoever has read this, I hope you're in a perfectly fine condition. You are healthy, you're safe and I genuinely wish you all the best in life.

Let me leave with you this life verse of mine.

Psalm 37:4: Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Be patient, God moves in a very mysterious way and He uses people to get to you. Have faith that He will give what's best for you. He knows what your heart desires, now wait for Him to move in to your life.

Besides, if it's not meant to be, He will closed the door. Think of it as Him making a way to protect you from future pain. Trust that He knows better.

I'm not a religious freak but I believe in one certain high being. I know deep within that there's a more clear, calm, confident, and all-knowing voice guiding me.

Trust the universe and your intuition.

Believe me when I say that the universe couldn't care less about your shit. Get it together babe. No to conspiracy theories or whatever.

Happy and Blessed Sunday!

#life lately #thesundaycurrently #writingformeaboutme #musings #tour my thoughts

[candycaneloveschicken]

I'm really really not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. I still feel awful. I also have no idea where any of my work stuff is and don't have the energy to find it. I've been couch bound all day because I can't sleep in my bed and I've been going on only about 2 hours of sleep now and a migraine. I've gotten maybe 12 hours of sleep total the last 4 days. I can only sleep in an hour to two hours at any given time because sciatic pain wakes me up. Or I'll get comfortable and my dogs will wake me up.

I feel kind of defeated, just given the fact that I've been off work for so long and it doesn't even feel like I accomplished anything over my vacation because I was in so much pain. I didn't organize anything in my house, do any of my food prep or fall baking, ( you've already seen me bitching about Halloween sucking) no ritual which is super personal to me and important for setting my intentions for the coming year.

The energy in my house is STALE AS FUCK. It's also a wreck in here cause I can't bend well and the thought of having to do any of the things I need to do is overwhemling. I'm also probably gonna be thrown under the bus when I go back to work because of circumstances out of my control right before the holidays.

Sorry, another personal shitty blog post but I don't feel like venting to anyone irl cause at this point I think they are just as exhausted as I am with their own issues and helping to care for me, so here this entry will sit.

#personal #candycaneloveschicken #greenwitch #witchy woman #cottagewitch #hedgewitch #garden witch #celtic witch

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

This case will be going to the grand jury

Okay

So what a grand jury does is determine via a jury panel of 12 or the local dictated amount, sometimes it is different -- in a closed private setting, if there is enough evidence for a probable cause to arrest the people for the crimes

Now I am told by Tree that this man whom was murdered was kidnapping for human trafficking and that is why he was killed.

Now I'm all about being anti racial crimes and modern lynching due to skin color

However SMS will show what he had done just hours before to these men. Where they all had been and what led up to the death of this man.

This is in February. I said and I said we would kill human traffickers.

This is a result of that statement

I wish it wasn't a black man. I do. I love black people all day long but we can't control what they do or do not do.

Due to the racial profiling and the claims that black are arrested unfairly we do have a higher rate of white people to do these killings.

This is to protect black people.

Killing one black kidnapper saves thousands and millions of African Kings, Queens, Princesses and Princes that will trust a black man to not kidnap them.

So I hope you do understand and I hope that the truth is shown and the truth is understood and justice is preserved in the grand jury

Had it been a group of black men killing one black guy it would been looked over as a gang thing. And ee don't want that either

So this video was purposely leaked to allow us to explain the choice of skin color that we use -- predominantly white (light) to protect Mexicans (Latino, Hispanic, Spanish) and African Americans

Because of white privilege.

It was expected and yet not hoped that this gossip would have happened. It shows the extreme damage in our communities.

And while this entire article is hurtful (and untrue) it does represent what police do.

I couldn't read all the words, they were so painful. Here we are trying all we can to protect innocent African-American and Latinx and still the screaming of indecency is arisen.

And yet we all still see the point. The Civil War was so long gone, no one who fought in it is still living. Yet daily it is still fought.

While y'all are not following instinct extremely close...

Y'all do recognize he was murdered ... He was murdered jogging ... And he was murdered for who he was ... But he was simply not just black. He was also a human trafficker.

Yes, my friends and my foes, black human traffic, too. Just like they deal drugs. Its "good" money meaning it is a lot.

I don't think I've called out a black person yet and this is the first. Just because I hadn't said didn't mean it ain't true

I've called out white people only. One girl and many men. Yet the Chinese and Asians have been attacked but I hadn't singled out one single Asian. Only white men (at that time it had began in Connecticut)

Yes yes yes Mexicans, Blacks, Whites, Native Americans they all human traffic

Native Americans are notorious for human trafficking. Y'all did not know that but they are. Agent Orange is 39% Native American. "Well they did it to us"

So you know it fucking hurts and you don't do it to other people, ass holes. But no. It makes them feel justified and right. They're not. They're shameful.

So this article is full of gossip and untrue words strung together to create bull shit.

I wish it was 3 innocent and good black man on one white kidnapper.... However the facts remain it was one African American Kidnapper that used people for humam trafficking

I am incorrect -- I have called out two African American Women for human trafficking --- Oprah Winfrey and Gayle King.

But this is the first male.

I also posted a video of actors that were all 100% human trafficking. And some were African American.

Now im going to tell you about Zulululu because of the high deaths of African Americans in this COVID crisis

Zulululu kill humans and then they take over their bodies. Okay.

So Zulululu are racist and ass holes. They are rapists. They have no respect for women. They male chauvinist pigs. They're disgusting.

So unfortunately I do believe that the Zulululu (and the other 3 planets as well) have already killed these Africans and then took over their bodies.

They did it to Michael Jackson. Alex Laughlin when he was Gaberial. Matt Hagan was my twin brother and he's been taken over by the alien in the film "White Boy Rick" that was Rick. He killed himself in jail to kill my brother to take over his body...

It makes me very sad. I want to cry.

Denise was killed and taken over by an alien. So the Zulululu uses my aunt's actual human body. Same with Nathaniel.

So it is very horrific.

So this huge amount of African Americans dying... Im sorry y'all but they ain't African Americans, baby. They ain't. Baby. They been dead a long time. And I am so sorry, i truly am.

That is why we have DNA4U. It dignifies your actual child or mom or aunt or uncle as alien or not. As human souls or some alien mouth breathing fool.

It is why all human bodies have COVID-19.

Because if you, my sista, get killed by an alien then the antibody "melts" caused by the alien soul and baby girl you ain't gotta be dead watching your body walk around no more. It's gonna die. And it's gonna die bad and it's gonna suffer. And you getta watch that alien panic.

So as soon as they alien soul enters the COVID activation occurs, your soul removing the antibody with you. Or thinking the body keeps it then the alien melts it. However you wanna look at it. IDC. However it occurs, idc. However its mutated in each individual idc. The mother fuckers ain't doing this shit no more.

So baby. Yeah. Y'all African American do have a 29% higher rate of Alien body take overs than the rest of the races. Next is Asian. Then Scottish, German, French, Polish, Swedish then general White from Europe.

Unfortunately they been trying to find me. Not knowing where i will pop up next, they infiltrate places I've been and have made a good life for myself.

Egypt, Outer Mongolia, Scottland as Queen Anne in the 1600s, I've been Joan of Arc, Cleopatra y'all know... So fucking many!

And they keep trying to find me to mate with me. But I can't. I can only produce children with my soulmate. Just like every other single human. Just like DNA4U proves.

Just like Zulululu can't even have children.

I can only mate with my soulmate

And it fucking kills me because they killed zillions and more than zillion of Chinese babies looking for me. And I never was born in China again. Because it was too dangerous.

I was never born in Africa again, it was too dangerous.

I was born in Detroit.. I was born in small town Alabama in a trailer park.

I was born in San Francisco. In London. In France. I've lived poor. Rich. Moderate. I've hidden quite successfully.

And yet... They destroy my people even still ...

So enter COVID 19 which is destroying my healthcare workers with PTSD. Because I don't get a chance to explain

Because the aliens keep getting in my way. Alex Laughlin. A fake Brian. Agent Orange. Eric Trump is always breathing down my neck. Denise. Nathaniel.

Its so fucking annoying.

And in my daily fights and struggles, my people are hurting.

So finally, a man with two stumps for legs because he deals with too many aliens for his nurse care, live in, and his soulmate is in jail for weed trafficking. I've known him off and on for 20 years. He posts a real human that is upset. I can see shes human. I just wanna hug her and take away all her pain. And Joey he says he just wants one miracle. He got it.

Finally the air cleared and I was able to break out and activate the healthcare substitute website and the mental health website especially for nurses and doctors to give them military training on acceptance of death which they get paid to learn. To encourage them to keep on trying. Keep reading, keep watching videos and keep caring about themselves and their mental health care.

For some it won't work. For some it just won't penetrate their brain. They can't hear it yet, they're not ready. But it will absorb if they let it. Each little particle of information that absorbs into their soul is just like that woman said -- it let's them be that one that is there for them because no one else is.

She's so beautiful. I mean shes pretty. She ain't painful to look at. But her words i just got goose bumps. Her beauty, "i wanna quit, but then they ain't got no one but me"

Girl. Y'all. I tell you. Every day. That's me.

I quit hundreds of times. "I fucking quit!! Fuck y'all!" Two days later I'm back at it. I can't stop.

Its that Orphan in me. It's that Queen in me, that Goddess of Earth.

At any rate. We're gonna stop this shit.

Racism. Its gonna stop.

Unfortunately COVID deaths of African Americans will not stop.

We have tried everything. Tricking a switch. "Okay alien just jump out and let her back in her body because she forgot something in there and she needs to get it" next thing we know its another car wreck and girl is dead and kicked out.

Exorcisms.

The Exorcist. That Horror film. All real.

We have tried it all m

And that is why we are in this horrific mess.

Luckily we got all kinds of shit planned!! Surprises around every corner and we are gonna get this done

We're gonna save Humanity, Ecology and the Earth itself.

We are gonna kill the souls of those from those four planets. Now it's gonna take time and its not gonns be fun.

But i got lawyers for the people that have been beat by cops finally assigned today! Yay!.

More than half of the 18,000 cops that are beating people for no reason have been killed today. Thank God for that and Tree of course and the snipers, Thank you.

And so this man in this article, unfortunately was ordered to die by me.

He was ordered to be killed by white people.

I don't want black men or Latino to be imprisoned for serving justice. White privilege is real.

All four planets for whatever reason decided to torture and bully and pick on African Americans.

Maybe because I'm white now... But i have to be white.. It's too dangerous to be black. Come on.. Yeah I used to black as Hell. But shit, a girl cant even walk down the street without being raped. Black girls are raped 4 times more than white. Asian girls are raped 6 times more often. 6 times! And they been killing most of them!!! So you know you gotta count that like every single Asian girl has been raped at least once.

They don't have it easy y'all! Stop picking on them!!!

Any way So there is a racial thing to the COVID but it's definitely not a human thing that is targeting them.

Y'all. Our African have already been killed and aliens are just walking around in their bodies.

So y'all don't cry no more.

Be mad.

Realize what's going on.

Alright so im telling you our families are dead and murdered.

Solution? Yes there is, in time.

We will ghost them back to life, creating bodies out of thin air for their spirits, their souls that exist.

Okay so i remember Alex Laughlin as Gaberial.... But Gaberial is Hispanic... And Alex looks French. So when the alien does take over it alters the physical characteristics of the original body.... But only slightly...

So some will request a dramatic overhaul of their appearance....

Okay say... Like Denise.... If Denise the real one looks too similar to the alien compound.... And we all hate her... Its simple to change the way she looks so that we don't ever see the old alien Denise when we look at the real Denise.

So she's been gone over 30 years..,

Gaberial 20

So its just like the changes that someone would make while growing up or growing old -- that is the way we look at it.

So i remember Gaberial as he was... And so he will change as he was only about 13 when his body was overtaken... So easy for him to have a new grown up self. Also same as easy to have him as original.

It all depends on the person and who did the alien take over and all that complicated stuff

So they analyze the complicated and we make it simple for compression of the new or old face.

And we allow it a choice and we say it is and it is respected and the person is loved.

Because that is humanity.

Again i apologize for the pain due to racism. The article does spell out the past and current situation especially with cops Here lately.

I was and still am totally with the Eric, "i can't Breathe" movement which ended in murder..

And that is why i am so angry.

But again. Please understand the justification of this killing and the reason we are using white privilege is to protect those that do not have white privilege.

We seize the opportunity. We don't make the opportunity. We use it.

Do please forgive me for doing so. I am only trying to protect the few good ones we have left because we all love you and we need you all safe!

I don't want yall in jail for a second for trying to save the world.