1) I love Madi, I need to draw more Madi 2) Maybe she’s responsible for Silver’s pierced ears this season? I mean, his Piratey Fashion Choices™
have only improved since he’s known her, and her style is amazing, so… :’D
[ before I begin, I’d like to explain. I’ve had this story idea for the alter egos for a while now, and @reverseblackholeofwords gave me the inspiration to post it (hope you don’t mind that I’ve tagged you >.<
is it too late to tag @intplier as well? Another fav blog of mine??
I have no idea if it’s any good, so I’ll let the internet judge)
Taking Back Control - Part 1
Amy awoke in a bed she didn’t recognise, with a splitting headache and a desperate need to pee. She tilted her head to look for Mark next to her. He wasn’t there. There was no sign of him having ever been there. Amy sat up, almost collapsing under the pain that followed. She brushed her hands across the back of her head, feeling a slight lump. She groaned, rubbing her face with her hands before making an effort to examine to room around her. She sat in a predominantly white bed, though the covers and pillows had a yellow swirling design of birds and flowers. It would have been pretty, but the possibility that whoever had placed her here was pandering with the bed design was a vaguely uncomfortable feeling. Amy shook her head slightly, she couldn’t assume anything yet. Maybe she was on holiday in a hotel, and she was too tired to remember where she was. That sort of thing happens right?
She looked over the room, glad to feel that the pain in her head had numbed to a slight throbbing. The room was square and predominately white. It was styled like an old mansion, with fancy designs joining the walls together. No windows let in any light, though Amy found a lamp on her bedside table, which she gratefully turned on, letting her eyes adjust. A simple white vase with some fresh yellow flowers sat on the bedside table. Opposite the bed was an antique fireplace - although currently unlit - with two armchairs placed around it. Amy would have continued examining each nook and cranny of the place, but she had another pressing matter. Her bladder. To her right was an offshoot to the room, with two wooden doors. Surely a room this fancy had an en suite! She stood, staggering slightly as her head throbbed. Her shoes had been placed next to the bed, so she slipped them on and headed to the doors. One was locked, though the other did indeed lead to a bathroom, complete with spa, shower and toilets, which Amy used gratefully. Upon relieving her bladder, she took a moment to examine her appearance in the mirror above the marble sink. She had a bad case of bed hair, and was wearing the same clothes she remembered wearing yesterday, a simple white sweater and blue jeans. Well, maybe yesterday, she had no idea how much time had passed. Her clothes proved to her, however, that this was no hotel. Surely she would have changed, and no one just forgets where they are for this long without known amnesia. Plus, Mark was nowhere to be seen. This led Amy to one main conclusion. She’d been kidnapped. There seemed no other explanation. The bump on her head, the amnesia, the unfamiliar place.
Her heart rate quickened dramatically. Though this realisation led to her being more grateful for the clothes she was wearing. No one had seen her naked body while she was unconscious.
Amy left the bathroom, trying once again on the other door. It seemed thoroughly locked. She walked back into the main bedroom, searching around throughly. She found another door on the other side of the bed, but in led into a simple walk in closet filled with empty coat hangers. She considered using a coat hanger to attempt to open the other door, but decided against it. She doubted that would work anyways. Her ‘kidnapper’ seemed relatively intelligent. All the rooms had been cleared of any objects that could cause damage to anyone. No towels to throw, nor sharp toiletries, or even wood in the fire. Smacking someone over the head with a coat hanger was a pitiful last resort. However, there was a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a hairbrush, which she used to clean herself up. The kidnapper had even provided her with tampons and pads, though this disturbed Amy more than anything. It seemed to imply she’d be here for a while.
Amy must have been pacing that room for half an hour, her mind coming up with horror scenarios, before she heard noise outside. She jerked, her heart pounding and head throbbing. Foot steps approached the door, accompanied by a slight whirring. She couldn’t help but instinctively back into the opposite wall. The lock twisted and the door creaked inwards. Amy’s eyes widened in relief. It was Mark! She rushed forward to him.
“Oh thank god, Mark!” She grasped his hands. They were as cold as ice, “Do you know where we are?” He scowled at her, and pulled his hands away, placing them stiffly at his side.
“I am not Mark.” he said monotonously, the word ‘not’ stuttering slightly as it left his lips. Amy pulled back, looking over the man in front of her. They looked like Mark, there was no denying it. They wore a pair of jeans and a blue shirt, though upon closer inspection, Amy saw that the G on their shirt glowed slightly. They wore Mark’s glasses, and their eyes were also tinted a slight red, which shone against the glass.
It couldn’t be…
“Who are you then?” She questioned slowly. ‘Mark’s’ head glanced up, expression neutral, eyes glowing slightly brighter.
“I am an early experimental prototype of the Google IRL unit. I am designed to answer questions and complete rudimentary tasks. If you have any complaints, please phone-” a screeching static noise erupted from him, causing Amy to flinch back. He never finished his statement, as he returned back to his scowling expression, locking eye contact with Amy. “Did that sufficiently answer your question?” He asked with a slight smirk, seeing Amy’s startled look. She let out a slight, breathy laugh, not out of humour, but shock. She had thought Mark was pranking her, but that glitching was real, and Mark would never kidnap her like this. This had to be some sort of vivid dream. Sure, dreams usually weren’t this vivid, but any explanation made more sense than the robot in front of her. She pinched herself. Nothing happened. Google sighed. “I understand that this must be hard to comprehend Miss Nelson, but I really don’t have time to deal with your questions.” He grasped her hand in a crushing grip, and walked swiftly out the door, which Amy just had time to close behind her.
“O-okay-” She was cut of as Google spun around, shoving her into the wall wildly, glitching and stuttering.
“Don’t say it!” He growled out threateningly, causing Amy to gasp out.
“I w-was just agreeing…” The robot pulled back, looking her over, though one hand still tightly gripped hers.
“Oh. My apologies Miss Nelson. However, I must inform you before we continue that the phrase ‘Okay Google’ is banned from this household.”
“R-right. Of course, sorry.” She mumbled. She looked around. Straight forward from the bedroom door was a hallway, ending in a door. To her left was a longer hallway, which opened into a larger space in the centre. Google took her down this way hastily, causing her to stumble and trip behind him. He continued to drag her however, so she pulled herself into a standing position, trying not the step on the back of his sneakers. The open space lead to two, large curved staircases on her left, though the right wall was closed off by large, red curtains. She swore she heard music on the other side, though Google gave her no time to investigate as he lead her up the stairs, his joints whirring as he went.
“This way, Miss Nelson.” She snorted, stumbling up the stairs in his wake.
“It’s not like I have much of a choice.” She muttered, but if he heard, he made no comment.
Upon reaching the first floor of the stairs, which went on for one more storey, Amy gasped in amazement. A huge room opened out at the the base of the stairs, with a ceiling two storeys high decorated with a huge chandelier. The far walls were covered in tall windows, letting in trickling rays of sunlight. A long, narrow table sat in the centre, with many comfortable-looking chairs surrounding it whilst the sides of the room held several configurations of armchairs, some set up in front of television screens . No one seemed to occupy the space at the moment, however, and Google made a sharp right, leading her down a short hallway, stopping outside a double door on the right. He pushed it open, shoving Amy through, and stepped in after her, closing the door behind him. The room had dark grey wallpapers and white, marble floor. The centre had a rectangle of black armchairs, set on top of a black and white carpet, with a pleasing symmetrical pattern. Google gestured to it.
“Sit. He will see you shortly.” Amy tensed. Google pointed at the door on the left side of the room, before moving towards it. “I will inform him that you’ve arrived.” And with that Amy was alone, and only then did she notice the faint ringing in her ears. Her blood ran cold, and her body constricted with a crushing sense of terror. If Google was real, did that mean…
She she ran forwards to a third door ahead of her. It appeared to be made of glass, and looked over a wooden deck. The forest landscape would’ve been beautiful if she weren’t so afraid of what was to come. The door was locked. She considered smashing it, but that would’ve been loud and drawn quick attention. She turned back, noticing a hallway. She moved to run down it, before realising it simply led to a large bathroom. The ringing grew louder. She rushed to the first door desperately, hands clawing at the door handle.
It was unlocked.
Amy took no chances, she sprinted down the hall, back past the central grand room. She glanced over it for exits. The doors in that room all appeared to lead to the deck, an easy way to get cornered. She turned back towards the two, towering staircases. The hallway in between them led to large, wooden double doors. That had to be the exit!
She ran, passing two large open archways on her sides that she didn’t bother to inspect. They would be onto her soon. She tripped on a short stairway leading down to the entrance, and slammed into the door. She tired to open it desperately. It was locked shut. Her heart plummeted, and she sunk to her knees. Of course it was locked. What had she expected? Would she be punished for attempting to run? The lump on the back of her head pounded heavily, accompanied by the loud ringing in her ears. She clawed her weak, shaking hands against her ears. Amy felt sick. Faint. She made a last ditch effort to slam her hands desperately against the smooth wooden doors when she heard footsteps behind her.
Mare used her electricity to kill a silver before Queenstrial even happened…
If you notice, there is a nymph (Silvers who control water) with orange hair who is drowning Mare in the midst of the panic from the first Scarlet Guard propaganda video with Farley in the squad where Gisa works…
Mare feels her “sparks” and her body “electrify"…
Then suddenly the water is still, and there’s a dead body with orange hair (aka an electrocuted nymph) lying in the fountain where the whole scene happens…
Then she trembles, unconsciously knowing she killed someone.
“The Host doesn’t want Miss Nelson to fear him. The Host would never hurt her” he murmured in a hushed, yet panicked whisper, and a hand reached out to hold hers. She flinched back, eyes wide. “The Host isn’t sure what to do.” He stuttered, concern clear in his tone, “Can Miss Nelson try breathing like the Host does? Here…” he took Amy’s hands in his own, tightly. “He isn’t coming Miss Nelson, the Host knows he isn’t. Just breathe. Miss Nelson should try counting with the Host, in one…two…”
Amy was almost breathing steadily when the Host turned towards the center hallway a few seconds before Google arrived, fuming. When they noticed the Host standing over Amy, however, the robot relaxed slightly. “The Host reassures Miss Nelson that he will talk to Google, and that she can stay here.” With that, he slowly let go of her hands, standing to face Google.
“I see you’ve met Amy, Host.” Google stuttered out. The Host simply inclined his head, once again his hands twisting over themselves.“We have an hour before she needs to go back. I need to go charge, my low battery explains my inability to remember to lock the door.” The robot stated, slurring slightly. Amy hadn’t even thought of the possibility Google could have low charge.
“The Host believes it was for the better. It will give Miss Nelson more time to prepare.” Google just shrugged.
“You can watch her, I will assign another Google to aid you.”
“The Host wonders if you’d be willing to assign Oliver.” Google scowled.
“I believe Red would be more suitable for this task.”
“The Host believes that Oliver is more bearable.” Host gave a small smile, and tugged at his sleeves. Google looked as frustrated as a robot could, but let out a very fake sigh.
“Fine.” Google tilted his head up, his eyes glowing slightly, before glaring down at the Host once more.
“He’s coming. Wait here with Amy till he gets here, before finding someplace the other alters won’t see her.” And with that, Google marched off, muttering irritably to himself.
They were left alone in silence after that. The Host made no attempt to speak with her, instead sitting at the foot of the steps, playing with his hands. Amy got the distinct impression that the Hosts comfort earlier was a very rare occurrence, as well as being embarrassing for her. Not only had she had a break down, she had accepted the Host’s comfort like she would with Mark’s. It was hard to think that they weren’t Mark when knelt there, gently consoling her - as long as she ignored their tendency to talk in the third person. Now, however, with him sitting, narrating quietly to himself, Amy was once again shocked to find that everything about their demeanor was entirely different from Mark’s. Different mannerisms, different way of speaking, different clothes. Despite their appearance, each of these ‘alters’ were entirely different people. She wiped at her face, though the tears had dried to uncomfortable sticky lines. The throbbing in the back of her head caused significant pain, and she was starting to feel nauseous. Whether that was because of her current situation or some other reason, Amy couldn’t tell. With every second that ticked past the Host seemed even more tense and uncomfortable. He continued messing with his coat sleeves and scratching at his arms, though his head stayed turned in Amy’s direction. It was rather disturbing.
It felt like an eternity before the yellow Google dubbed ‘Oliver’ made his way down the stairs towards them.
“Hello Miss Nelson! Is it alright if I call you Amy?” They asked, seemingly more pleasant than Blue had been. She nodded slightly, and Oliver’s eyes flashed that same red for a second, before he turned to the silent alter beside him. “Excellent, where are we heading, Host?” The Host stood, adjusting his coat and brushing away invisible dust.
“The Host suggests the tower, as no alters currently reside within it.” Oliver nodded, giving a small smile.
“Lead the way then, as Amy doesn’t know where that is yet, correct?” She shook her head, standing slowly. The Host turned, and walked down to the large spiral staircase. Amy followed quickly after, Oliver taking up the rear with his whirring footsteps. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Amy took a moment the admire the grand room from above, staring at the gold designs embroidered into the chandelier.
“The Host explains that Miss Nelson doesn’t have time to dawdle, as the other alters may see her.” Amy nods, turning to follow the Host back around the staircase. She took a glance down a balcony that opened to the foyer, but this time she didn’t dawdle, she turned left to follow the alter. The Hosts lack of narration seemed to suggest he was comfortable with these halls. They made a right turn down a hallway, followed by a second right through a door. It opened to a room a fraction smaller than the bedroom she’d awoken in, filled with four main desks, each well organized, with a variety of computer screens adorning each one. This room appeared significantly more modern than the other rooms she’d seen thus far. Oliver answers Amy’s unspoken question.
“This is my study, well, the Googles’ study.” He gestured to a desk in the corner, with a yellow lining.
“That one is mine, you get tell by the coloration.” Amy nodded, looking over the different colored desks.
“It’s nice Oliver.” She tried, though it came out of her mouth quieter then she’d hoped. He didn’t seem to mind though.
“I appreciate the compliment to my workplace.” He smiled, though the sentence seemed relatively scripted. The Host continued to the left corner of the room, which opened to a small spiraling staircase. He stopped Oliver from entering.
“The Host believes it’s best that Oliver guards the doorway whilst the Host and Miss Nelson continue upward.” Oliver frowned slightly.
“I was assigned to aid you in watching over Amy. If I’m out here, I wouldn’t be able to watch her.”
“The Host agrees with Oliver’s statement, yet argues that out here Oliver would be able to stop other alters seeing Amy by blocking the doorway.” Oliver nods.
“Updating Assignment - Stop other alters entering doorway, as it will aid the Host.” He smiles, before positioning himself in the doorway. The Host gestured up the staircase.
“The Host offers that Miss Nelson goes before him up to the reading room, the first storey of the tower.” Amy accepted, making her way shakily up the stairs. They opened to a quiet room, lit by natural light seeping in through three main windows. The walls were covered with bookshelves and cabinets, and the center had a variety of brown, worn armchairs.
“These are some of the Hosts best works.” He gestured to the shelves, a hint of pride in his tone. “The Hosts office is located on the next floor of the tower. It is where he writes his books, and translates them to and from Braille. The Host also runs a radio show.” Amy nodded, taking a seat in one of the chairs. The idea of the radio show intrigued her, she’d have to look into it.
The room remained silent for a seemingly long period of time. Despite the Hosts skill in storytelling and narration, he seemed very good at creating awkward silences.
“The Host would like to ask Miss Nelson a question.” He piped up suddenly, shocking Amy out of her silence. She nodded quickly.
“Of course, ask away!” She smiled, though she was worried it looked rather forced, and was fairly convinced the Host could tell despite his bandaged eyes. He continued regardless.
“The Host wonders if Mark every told Miss Nelson about us. The alters.” Amy froze slightly.
“I mean, yes. I know who you all are.”
“The Host elaborates that he means whether or not Mr Fischbach ever told you that we were real.” Amy’s silence was enough of an answer.
“No. He hadn’t.” She whispered slightly. The Host nodded calmly, standing up and wandering over to a bookshelf. He stood over it, muttering to himself. Suddenly, his hands whipped out, sending books toppling to the floor. She stood quickly, backing away.
“Why! How dare he-” he kicked the shelf, though Amy was more surprised by his change to first person then the motion, “I was waiting so long! Hoping he would visit us. Hoping you and the others would come! Doesn’t he know how lonely I-we are?” Blood seeped through the Hosts bandages at an alarming rate, running tracks down his face. “None of the other egos bother the talk to me! I was hoping you would enjoy my company, but now…” he trailed off, turning his blood coated face to look at Amy. She felt a pang in her heart at his pained grimace. His body shook, and his hands reached to touch his face, only now realizing the blood. It had trickled down his neck onto his shirt collar in deep red blotches. He let out a shaky breath. “The Host apologies for his outburst, and assures Miss Nelson it has nothing to do with her.” He sat back down hastily, leaving the scattered books behind him. He appeared rather embarrassed by his outburst, with his hands shaking over his legs and his mouth clamped shut. Amy rushed to grab a box of tissues, moving to clean his face. The Host pushed her hands aside, opting to clean his face himself. The blood had already stained tear-like streaks down his face, though the tissue helped stop it from dripping. The Host sat there, in the armchair, surrounded by blood soaked tissues when his head jerked.
“What is it?” Amy stuttered out quietly, pulled from her pondering of the Hosts words. The Host stared at the stairway in the corner.
“The Host senses that another alter is coming, and suggests that Amy hides.” He stood, some of the tissues falling to the floor as he moved over to a cabinet. “The Host explains in a hushed whisper that this cabinet simply holds rolls of paper, and that Amy could fit.” He twisted open the handle, moving out several large paper rolls and a stray baseball bat - he flinched at that one - and gestured to Amy. She stepped inside and he closed it behind her.
Amy couldn’t see anything, but listened closely for the creak of the chair as the Host sat. Footsteps came charging up the stars, echoing across the room, causing Amy’s breath to hitch.
“Host! I heard the yelling, for some reason Oliver tried to stop me seeing you and…” the breathless voice - the same Mark-like voice - paused slightly. “Your bandages, they’re soaked! I just changed them… have you been crying?”
“The Host explains that he was simply reliving memories.”
“Well, I’ll have to get you some new bandages if that’s the case, if you’ll come with me to the…”
“No!” The Host yelled out, before his voice hushed once again, “the Host is not leaving the reading room.”
“So you were yelling at someone then…”
“The Host lies,” a pause “The Host realizes the mistake in his narrating.”
“You only narrate lies when you want to get caught. Let me help help you.” They begged. There was a moment of silence, where the new alter walked around the room. “Those paper rolls have been moved, there’s fresh blood on them, along with the bat, which you never like to be visible.” There was a moment of silence.
“The Host doesn’t understand.”
“The trail you’ve left leads straight to the cabinet.” Amy’s heart rate quickened. She tried desperately to keep her breath silent, hoping the Host would somehow distract the intruder. It had to be an alter who didn’t know Amy was here, but that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat. The Host said nothing as footsteps moved towards her hiding place, a silhouette blocking the slight light between the two doors. “There is blood on the door handle, and the doors themselves are slightly ajar, which means…” The slight creak of the handle was the only warning she got when the two doors swung open, the light blinding her. She felt dizzy, but took her chance to examine the shocked figure before her.
Me: IM UPSET THAT THESE PANELS WERE ALTERED. I KNOW. I KNOW! NO ONE HAS TO TELL ME. I KNOW THE ENDING OF S2 HAD TO END IN A SERIOUS TONE TO WRAP UP THIS SEASON BUT IM SO SAD THAT WE DIDN’T GET THE SCENE WHERE EVERYONE IS ROASTING JEAN. I MEAN THAT WAS THE SILVER LINING OF THAT MASSACRE OF RESCUE. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY IT SHOWS HOW INTUITIVE JEAN HAS BECOME AND IS ABLE TO ENCOURAGE EREN TO TAKE ACTION BECAUSE ALL THOSE DEATHS MEAN NOTHING UNLESS EREN KEEPS MOVING FORWARD. #also wtf where did the mikasa laying down scene go?? #also connie was too short for the animators and replaced by mikasa.
Amy stared at the eccentric journalist before her as he idly twirled
his hair, which was still dyed vibrant pink. He was wearing his classic
pale-yellow button up and brown pants, pulled up by pastel pink braces. It was
accompanied by his bright pink bowtie and curled moustache, which he fiddled
with as his gazed at her in thought. Her attention was pulled away by the
screech of a chair on floor. An alter, who Amy presumed to be Bim Trimmer by
his suit and glasses, had stood. He was ogling at her, his mouth opening and
closing like a fish. His hair was grown out slightly longer, pulled back behind
his ears, gracing his neck with dark little waves. It wasn’t ridiculously long
like in the past, and Amy remembered it to be like when they’d started dating.
She shook her head slightly. When she’d started dating Mark. It took Bim a few
moments to realise that no-one else had stood, and his face flushed. There was
an awkward moment of silence. He straightened his suit and adjusted his red
tie, before sitting, staring at his empty plate intently. Wilford gave a low
“You certainly know how to plan a surprise, Darkimoo! When
you said a guest was arriving, no one expected the wonderful Miss Nelson!” He
gestured to her wildly with – despite the fact the meal hadn’t started yet –
knife firmly in hand, causing Amy to flinch. “And look at how you dressed her!”
Amy felt her face burn, and she moved hands to cover up slightly. Wilford
didn’t seem to think anything was weird about his statement.
“I do my best.” Dark replied flatly, before turning to Amy
with a sly grin on his face, gesturing once again to the seat on his left, “Come,
take a seat. Let me formally introduce you to everyone.” She slowly made her
way over, skin squirming at all the eyes of her. She kept her gaze on the knife
held tightly in Wilford’s grasp. She sat in between Dark and Ed Edgar, and she
didn’t feel particularly comfortable being near either of them, instead
settling to sit rigidly straight in the centre of her seat. Dark began his
introductions. “Of course, we have the dazzling Wilford.” The words held slight
sarcasm, but Wilford didn’t appear to pick up on it.
“Yours truly!” He drawled, giving a dramatic little bow in
his seat. Amy let a slight smile grace her lips. Dark sighed slightly, but
continued his introductions.
“Silver Shepard.” The superhero remained silent, still
staring at her through the black eyes of his mask. He wore a suit jacket and
pants over his costume in some attempt to look formal. He shook his head
slightly, pulling himself out of his daze.
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
“Dr. Iplier,” the doctor smiled warmly at her, giving a
slight wave. He had ditched his doctors coat surprisingly, wearing a
professional deep blue button-up and black pants. “The Host,” Dark continued,
one eye on Amy to gauge her reactions.
“The Host inclines his head in greeting.” He was wearing his
usual coat, but his bandages had been cleaned up, and he wore a white dress
shirt with swirling patterns underneath.
“Ed Edgar.” The man beside her grinned broadly, shoving his
hand towards her. She took it awkwardly and he shook it in his constricting
grasp. It was quite sweaty, and when she pulled away she rubbed her hand across
her dress. He hadn’t made a single effort to dress up. “and Bim Trimmer.” The
gameshow host looked up at her. He appeared to have recovered from his previous
ordeal, or had at least hidden his humiliation, because he shot her a broad
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Amy! Not that I didn’t already
know who you are of course!” His confident tone faltered as he gave a slight
laugh, adjusting his glasses before glancing at his writhing hands. Dark leaned
over to her, taking her hand under the table. She cringed, eyeing him over
nervously. Her hand grew cold, and the chill had already started to seep up her
arm. Dr. Iplier observed this interaction with a saddened expression, his hands
clenching into fists.
“I’m so happy you can finally meet us. Of course, there are many more of us, and The King of the
Squirrels is too busy with his kingdom to join us. Now, dinner will be served
shortly.” He paused, withdrawing his hand, causing Amy to relax considerably.
He fixed his suit, turning to face Wilford. “Before our meal arrives, however,
I’d like to ask about that article.” Wilford, who was attempting to balance his
knife on his finger, glanced up at Dark, suspiciously. Amy could practically
see the cogs turning, deciding whether said article was some important
information he shouldn’t give to Dark.
“You wanna know about the article?”
“The article I mentioned in passing a few minutes ago?”
“Okey Dokey! So, Mark called…” Amy jolted, staring at Wilford
with wide eyes. Wilford seemed to notice his new audience, because he smiled at
her, pointing his knife. “He was looking for you, Miss Nelson! Asked if I could
“Did you tell him?” She tried to feign a calm attitude. The
other alters watched the interaction with bated breath, nervous eyes flicking
to Dark, who simply watched on in silence. This excluded the Host, who’d
started his quiet narrations. “Where I am, I mean.” Wilford’s brow furrowed.
“No… I searched Amy, I did, but you weren’t on earth!” He
flicked the knife in the air, causing her to flinch back, but he somehow caught
it. “I wrote a beautiful article on alien abductions, but turns out it was all
him.” He pointed the knife at Dark with a raised eyebrow, and the monochrome
being offered a tight smile. Amy hid her interest in the article. What did they
mean by not on earth?
“I’m sure that was very disappointing, Will. I’m surprised
you didn’t think to check the alter dimensions.” Wilford rolled his eyes.
“Well, why would Amy be here?” He questioned, before glancing
at her, “I mean, she is…god knows
why… she is here…” Wilford began
mumbling indistinctly to himself, and Silver took the opportunity to speak up
“So, Mark is here too?” He asked hopefully, causing Amy’s
heart to plummet. She looked over at Dark quickly, wagering his reaction, which
didn’t go unnoticed by the more observant alters.
“No, he isn’t.”
“Oh, I was hoping to see him.” He lisped, having trouble
speaking through his costume, “Haven’t spoken to him since Cyndago disbanded…”
Amy felt a pang in her heart.
“I’m sure he’d love to talk to you.” Silver shot up, looking joyful
at her words. Dark cleared his throat, twitching his neck slightly.
“I’m sure he would like to love to talk to all of us when he’s ready.” Amy wanted
to cut in ‘not you’, but decided considering her current scenario it wasn’t a
smart decision. “However, I believe we should start with dinner. Let us make a
good impression on Miss Nelson here.” He clapped his hands, and the three
remaining Googles entered, a variety of dishes in hands. None of them made eye
contact with her, or any of the other alters for that matter. Swiftly a full
banquet filled the dining table, and even the alters looked shocked. Ed Edgar
rubbed his hands together gleefully. He turned to Amy, tipping his shades down
to look at her.
“Now this is a feast!” He hollered, “Usually we all have to
fend for ourselves! Have the Googles always been able to do this?” He reached a
bare hand out to grab a turkey leg, but Bim slapped him on the shoulder. Ed
turned, looking agitated. “What is it show-boy?” Bim looked between Ed and Dark
frantically. Ed followed their gaze slowly, seeing Dark observing him
expectantly, and he dropped his hand. Only now did he notice the silence in the
room. “Oh, right.” Dark smiled stiffly, turning to Amy.
“Our guest should have first serve.” Amy swallowed, nodding,
pale faced. She turned to the food. There was a huge variety of many dishes
from all different cultures. She noticed a platter filled with an assortment of
sushi near her, a pair of serving chopsticks set next to it. She took them,
serving herself a roll in the uncomfortable silence. They seemed to expect
she’d have first bite, so she did. It was some of the best sushi she’d ever
had. She smiled, inclining her head, and Dark gestured to the table. With a
loud amount of chatter and clatter, the alters feasted.
Amy didn’t have an appetite. She forced food down in hope it
would avert attention from her, although she was relatively convinced she was
going to puke it back up later. The
alters examined her with varying degrees of subtly, from small glances and
smiles to full on stares. Upon closer inspection, they were all quite different
– hair being a big giveaway. Obviously, Wilford had the pink, Bim the longer
style, Ed the mullet and Dr. Iplier shared the same hair as Mark currently. But
there were subtle differences, such as Dark having a slightly longer fringe,
and the Host’s hair styled to the centre instead of being parted to the side. The
Host was also narrating at an alarming rate, and it looked like he wasn’t going
to be eating anytime soon. Dr. Iplier had tried to serve him but with little
success. Anytime the Host was seeming to calm, the situation brought him back
into his quiet mumbling frenzy. Blood stained his bandages. He wasn’t a social
alter, and Dark’s presence beside him wasn’t helping. Amy averted her gaze, troubled
by the continuing exchange of the desperate doctor and his patient. Bim, who
was pushing his food around his plate, was sneaking glances at her
continuously. Eventually he attempted conversation, and she was grateful for
“So, what do you do Amy?” he flushed, “I mean, I already know
but I’m curious about your opinions on it? You look gorgeous by the way!” He
gave out a slight, awkward laugh.
“Thanks.” She tried to act happy at the compliment, “You mean
graphic design, Bim?” She asked, peering around Ed – who was inhaling his food
– to look at them. They gave a quick nod. “I love it! I’m glad to be able to do
it! What about you? Do you do anything besides gameshows?” He gave a toothy
“Of course! I mean, not anymore. But my first job was as a
news reporter! It didn’t last long… I wasn’t fired! I quit! It was really weird
first day…” He babbled on, his eyes carefully watching for her reaction. “It’s
how I discovered I was Bi!” Amy furrowed her brow, looking him over.
“That, sounds like an interesting story.” She said, curious.
Dr. Iplier coughed slightly.
“I wouldn’t recommend that story for the dinner table, Bim.”
He looked over at Amy, “Trust me.” She nodded slowly, glancing back at Bim with
intrigue. The doctor turned back to the Host, who appeared to be trying to tell
them something, though no one seemed sure what by how fast he was speaking and
how he continued to stop mid-sentence and restart. They looked like they were
desperately trying to stop their narration – their voice growing quiet and
raspy - but with little success. She hastily turned back to Bim, hoping for a
distraction. The gameshow host didn’t have time to continue his conversation
when Ed piped up, his mouth full of food.
“That reminds me, on the topic of work…” he swallowed, smearing
sauce off his face and onto his hand. A few crumbs stuck in his moustache. “I
was wondering about that advertisement I put on the Youtube a while back.
Adoptalots? Know the one?” He didn’t give Amy a chance to add her input. “I
haven’t got any calls? I think the number might’ve been wrong?”
“Yeah, I don’t know.” She stuttered, trying to remember the
video. She gulped at the disturbing thought. “Do you actually have a baby
“Of course not!” He chortled, “Not yet anyways, that’s the
dream plan! I got the blueprints up for it! Still tryin’ to sell my son!” She
leaned away from him, before jerking up when she felt Dark’s presence behind
her, listening to her attentively. She gave a nervous laugh.
“I’m not interested, by the way! Sorry.” She shoved some more
food in her mouth in an attempt to avoid more conversation. Ed mumbled
something, but let it go, which Amy was grateful for. She swallowed, noting the
two heads of the table staring at her intently, and she offered a forced smile.
She didn’t particularly like the attention from either of them, but the other
alters seemed preoccupied for a variety of reasons. The journalist looked her
over, uninterested in his plate full of outrageously sweet foods.
“I’d love to do an interview.” Wilford began, and she recoiled
back into her seat. She didn’t have a chance to reply when Dark clapped his
hands, causing her to jump.
“I think that’s enough. Miss Nelson has a big day planned for
tomorrow.” Silver Shepard spoke up.
“But we haven’t even had dessert!” A withering look from Dark
caused their protest to die off. The
monochromatic alter stood, straightening his suit, before dragging Amy up after
him. He pulled her towards him, and her body turned to ice, her heart
hammering. She was too close, his side pressed against her.
“I’m sure Miss Nelson is very tired. She needs her beauty
sleep.” The echo of his voice cascaded through her ears, the ringing giving her
a migraine. Before she could react, he dipped her, leaning over and kissing her
dead on the mouth. She didn’t resist, she couldn’t. The touch of his lips seeped
through her like slivers of ice in her veins, and a few stray tears fell. Her
eyes closed in a silent plea, trying to ignore the presence holding her. The
moment felt like it lasted forever. He pulled away up and lifted her back to
her feet, entertained. His hand graced her cheek, his thumb wiping away the
tears. The other alters all stared at the two, with a variety of disbelieving
looks. Even the Host had fallen silent, though he was shaking slightly. She
stood, quivering, her mouth wide open, words dying in her throat. “Goodnight
Amy, Red can take you back to your room.” He acted as if after her dignity hadn’t
just been shattered. Like he hadn’t found the perfect way to break her
The robot grabbed her hand,
dragging her away, leaving the mortified alters behind. She wanted to scream
and cry. She wanted to break down. But she marched on like a machine, matching
Red’s manner. The logical side of her brain explained the event away. It was an
act, Dark’s attempt to prove his control over her. An attempt to show
dominance, put the alters in their place. Power play. Pure manipulation. The
rest of her didn’t care about that. She should have resisted, pulled away, attacked
him, done anything. She shouldn’t have played victim.
Those were Mark’s lips. How did he use them in a way that
made her never want to kiss Mark again?
A few more tears fell. She ignored them. She let herself get heaved
into her room, her old sweater and jeans thrown in beside her. The cold numbness
slowly faded, the ringing gone. She felt hollow. She sat on the bed running shaky
hands through her hair. She screamed. No one came. She cried and hollered. No
one cared. She wasn’t even yelling about anything specific. She wanted to
scream until it was over. Maybe she could make one of the alters feel bad about
trapping her here. Maybe she was giving Dark what he wanted. She didn’t care.
Her only emotion was the dread and fear about the ‘big day’ planned for her
She changed out of the dress as quickly as possible, throwing
it on the closet floor and closing the door on it. She didn’t want to see it.
She removed the makeup, trying to act as if this was all some nightmare. She
rushed to the toilet to empty her stomach, coughing and spluttering the remains
of her pitiful meal.
I know what I said yesterday but hear me out right it’s probably been done before but whatever.
Like imagine that in the 06 timeline before these two met Blaze heard about a boy with mystic powers that could potentially stop Iblis but he was regarded as incredibly dangerous. Regardless she went on the hunt for this person and stumbled across Silver a young hedgehog who was unable to control his powers and so resided in a cave hidden deep away where he couldn’t hurt anyone. The only way to control it was with a special material Blaze went to retrieve which eventually become the golden cuffs around Silver gloves and boots. Grateful for finally giving Silver some sort of control in his life he offered to help in the battle against Iblis.
Also excuse the gross background I was experimenting.
Amy slid open the bedroom door with shaking hands, hesitantly stepping into the empty hallway. The door had been left unlocked by Dr. Iplier, presumably to avoid the suspicion of Mark if the plan had gone awry. She swallowed, regret filling her stomach as her rib cage constricted around her heart. The final words Dark had left had sent her off the precipice, and she now plummeted into the abyss. She sank down into the cold, unforgiving depths as ice water filled her mouth and lungs and sent her choking for air. The throbbing of her heart and the echoing of water filled her ears as she travelled down the hall, trying to keep her desperate, raspy breaths silent. She knew she was going to drown. At that moment, she couldn’t think of saving the others as they flailed vainly around her. She would grasp onto anything that kept her afloat, letting it die in vortex below her. Like anyone frantic to free themselves from the greedy waves, she would let the others get swept away in the current.
Amy pulled herself up the stairs, careful to keep quiet. She had to forget about the alters and focus on her own escape now. Once she was out, she could explain to Mark the situation and get the others out of here. But she couldn’t wait for Mark to save her now, it was what Dark wanted. Whatever information he disclosed with the doctor could aid her escape. It was risky, but it was all she had. Her only chance. Now on the ground floor, she could see into the grand room once more. It had been a while since she’d seen it, and it was still impressive. The ceiling extended up to the next floor, the balcony from the stairs above looking out across it. A large rectangular table stood proudly under the large, golden chandelier. The chair at the head of the table was certainly more impressive than the others, but nothing like the throne she’d expected. Her gaze trailed across the rest of the room when she suddenly spotted a figure. She crept slightly further down the stairs, ducking down. It had been Silver Shepard, but she couldn’t blow her cover. Even though she was sure he would be on her side, that didn’t mean he’d spot her quietly. Besides, Amy would be strongly advised against eavesdropping on Dark, and probably for a good reason. But she didn’t care. Relief crashed through her when a pair of blue converse crossed her eyeline. Dr. Iplier had just past her, and she wouldn’t have realized in time to avoid him had she not hid from Silver.
“Hey Doc! What’re you up to?” Amy froze in place, pressing her body further into the steps, sending a silent prayer that no one was planning walking down them yet. It was the superhero who’d spoken, his lisp evident in his voice, and the doctor turned to face them. He didn’t speak as he quietly gestured towards the left, the sitting room entrance. There was a moment of silence before the screech of a chair signalled Silver’s movement. She could just see the top of his mask from where she hid
“I suggest you go back to your room, Shep.” The nod of their head was all the warning she had the shuffle further down the stairs. She paused as he walked over, hoping the mask over his eyes increased his blind spots. Silver made their way up the steps, before stopping right above Amy. Her breath hitched, and she quickly clamped her hand over her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Doc.” Amy’s insides wrung up at the sorrow in those words.
“It’s alright, there’s nothing you can do. It’s my fault. You can’t save everyone.” She wasn’t sure if he was talking to Silver or himself. The creak of wooden steps started above her, before growing quiet. There was a moment of silence, and she heard the doctor sigh. He turned, and she watched him go as if he was on his way to the gallows. Maybe he was. The double doors thudded shut as he entered the sitting room, and she stood, stretching cramped limbs and calming her beating heart. It was here she furthermore understood the idiocy of her current plan. There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to hear or see what went down. All she had was a large, communal room filled with open space and windows and a small hallway that contained a pair of double doors that was clearly visible to anyone outside the room. In a mansion of this quality, she doubted she’d be able to hear anything through the walls. Amy racked her brain, trying to remember the layout. She had been in the room once before, and that was under stressful circumstances. But she vaguely recalled a hallway that led off the chamber. Slowly, she made her way back up the stairs, glancing down the central hallway. This had been where she’d run to the exit before the Host had found her. He was probably still in the library, and Amy couldn’t just write him off as blind. He was more observant than any other alter until he kept his mouth shut. There was a chance he already knew she was here, though whether he would act on that was beyond her. The Host seemed to be a neutral force, but she was yet to consider him anything but a threat. He had been the one to bring her here.
Fully understanding the stupidity of her actions, she continued soundlessly down the hall, eyeing the entrance. If only it were as easy as leaving through those doors. The Googles were no where to be seen, which unnerved her. Prehaps they were still charging? Maybe in their office? She had to account for everyone. Amy risked a glance into the library. The Host was still in there, though it appeared he hadn’t noticed her. He wasn’t narrating, in fact, he seemed to be straining to keep his mouth shut. Shaky hands bloodied from his tears touched a book on the table before him, smearing the blood onto the pages. Immediately she wanted to run in and assist him, but she fixed herself in place. She remembered his words during Mark’s visit, and there wasn’t time. She had to hear what Dark said to the doctor. She spied a door on the opposite side of the library. Amy contemplated running for it but swiftly dismissed the notion. The Host may have been blind, but he wasn’t deaf. Besides, the second he started his narrations again she’d be caught. Amy had to move on before any other alters saw her. She reached the end of the hall, the entrance area down a small staircase, and spied a hallway that led down to the left wing. She made her way more hastily now, cringing at the sound her footsteps made on the floor. The hall came to a split on the left and right side, an entrance to the left wing and an elevated platform with a door. She remembered Dark’s words, the left wing belonged to the Host, and she was forbidden to go inside. She shoved her curiosity away as she headed right, adrenaline pumping as she slid open the door. There was a square room which was filled with the faintest ringing, causing Amy to shiver. There were two other doors, one the open entrance to the library she’d seen prior. Based on her positioning, she quickly deduced the other door led towards the sitting room. She made her way through, now entering a hallway connected to an even more impressive dressing room than the one she’d seen previously. This entire area had to be Dark’s bathroom. She would’ve scoffed at the concept, but he was practically the master of the house. It all appeared to be unused anyway. The ringing grew louder as she moved, and suddenly her ears caught on to the echoing of a voice. She ducked into the closet, feeling uncomfortable amongst all the suits that had to belong to him. She was here. This was Dark’s domain. Amy made her way out of the closet and towards the sitting room, careful to avoid being seen. Now settled behind a wall, the voices were clearer, and she risked a peek. She could see Dr. Iplier’s shadow as Dark drew nearer, disappearing behind the wall. He didn’t have a shadow.
“You’ve fucked up now, haven’t you doctor? You knew that right from the beginning. You think you know better. You think you’re more observant than I am. Don’t you?” She saw the doctors shadow shake its head, and she pulled away, leaning against the wall, heart hammering. Screaming static filled her ears as Darks shell broke further.
“I could make you feel more pain than you thought possible. More pain than a human could ever imagine in their worst nightmares. I am the reason you are alive, Dr. Iplier. I made you into the doctor you always wanted to be, and this is how you repay me?” His voice echoed through the halls, meeting Amy’s ears at full force. The black void that surrounded him expanded, sending the world dark and monochrome. Dark wrath shattered reality around him, the black tendrils of his dimension snapped at her, and Amy bit back a scream. Blood filled her mouth. He really wasn’t human. Words couldn’t describe the demon down the hall. His words sent pain and anger and fear and hopelessness constricting her mind, chattering and shrieking in her ears. Her nightmare filled her mind again, dread and horror weighing down her bones. It was as if Dark was angry at her. As if he were right there in front of her. And the ringing, always there Amy thought it would never leave. This was what drove a human to insanity. What sent people leaping to their demise. What sent Bim in a wild frenzy to remove his tongue. It made her want to beg and wail for mercy. Made her want to find something to end it all. Every regret and fear and terrible memory she’d ever experienced flashed through her. Every hope and dream and desire crushed in the darkness. She pulled at her hair, relishing in the sting that pulled her away from her mind, the blood seeping from her mouth, its metallic tinge all she could taste. She had to keep silent. Had to keep silent. Silent. Tears mingled with blood. “I could end you here doctor, but that would be merciful. I gave you one task, one simple request. Keep Amy in the mansion.” His voice was deathly quiet, yet it still reached her ears. The void responded to him, grasping and clawing at her skin, leaving a monochromatic tinge. She wished it would hurt her. Wished it showed sign of its existence. Blood, scratches, scars, anything, not this mental bombardment of indescribable emotion. A breathy laugh resonated through the room. Everything was black now, Dark was all there was. “No, doctor, If I really wanted to hurt you I’d need to be more imaginative. I need something that’ll teach you a lesson and make you think twice about disobeying me. I’m trying to help you, doctor, help us take back control. But if you’re going to fuck everything up, I’ll just have to keep you away from her. If I were to hurt her…” Amy’s blood ran cold.
“Sir, please…” It was cut out by screaming, the dark void surrounding her twisting and shaking. It stopped abruptly, replaced with faint spluttering and sobbing.
“I told you to keep your mouth shut!” There was a pause, before Dark continued, his voice vaguely calmer. “I won’t hurt her. I don’t like getting my hands dirty. But tell me, doctor, if you thought you would be the one to hurt her, you’d stay away, wouldn’t you? If let’s say, you couldn’t take your pills…”
“S-Sir…” More screams. Silence. Spluttering. Sobbing. Amy clawed furiously at her ears, but she could still hear him
“It’s a privilege doctor, one I’m willing to remove if you refuse to obey my simple requests. You’ve had too many chances. It’s over.“ For a slight moment, Amy thought he’d just let the doctor go. Dark was silent, and Dr. Iplier’s whimpers reached her ears. He’d helped her knowing this could happen… “Oh, but I can’t let you leave so soon. Taking away something as simple as pills isn’t going to be effective. I’m sure the void would love to play with you.” Agonizing screams reverberated across the room and Amy snapped. This was torture. She wasn’t going to get anything from this. It was like she’d just suddenly realized that Dark wasn’t after her. Wasn’t scolding her. She could leave. Fear bubbled and exploded through her senses, and she bolted, leaving the wails and cries behind her. Her heart throbbed in her ears like constant drumming. The void licked at her feet, black tendrils tripping her up and blinding her. Amy prayed the ringing was enough to mask her retreat as she slammed the door shut behind her. The void oozed under the door like grasping hands, twisting and writhing. She flinched back, pushing her way through an open door, shoving it closed and crashing to the floor. She crawled away, spitting out blood from her mouth. Finally, Amy let out a scream. It died in her throat when a figure loomed over her, and her eyes widened. The black sparks still coated her vision, and she recoiled, hands moving to protect her face. The figure moved closer, kneeling beside her. Desperate narrations finally poured from their mouth. A hand wrapped itself firmly around her own.
“Miss Nelson is safe now. The Host is beside her. The Host won’t send her back.“ The words were gentle but they didn’t mean anything. Her brain was spinning in circles, and nausea gripped her gut. The world twisted and whirled around her as black dots danced. Blood was all she could taste. Blood and pain and fear. “Breathe Miss Nelson. Breathe.” She choked on the blood, her breath wild and desperate gasps. He grasped her shoulders, the fabric of a coat brushing against her skin. A shaky hand touched her cheek. “Listen. Listen to me, Miss Nelson. You’re fine. He’s not here. Just breathe.” The words finally began to process through her mind. It slowed, the black dots fading. She was in the library. The ringing had faded. She couldn’t hear the screams. Couldn’t hear him. Oxygen flooded her system. In and out. In and out
“He’s in the void. You followed him, Miss Nelson.” She shuddered. More tears brimmed in her eyes and precious air caught in her throat. She couldn’t. It wasn’t. No. “Breathe.” She did. “The Host apologizes that Miss Nelson had to see that. The Hosts wishes he’d stopped her. The Host should’ve guessed what her intentions were.” She wrapped herself in his arms. She couldn’t think anymore. She wanted the be home so badly. She wanted her friends. Wanted to be with Mark. And Chica. And Marzipan. To wave everything off as a nightmare or some gruesome imagining. She grasped onto the Host tighter. Didn’t notice how he flinched at the contact. The Host continued to murmur meaningless condolences gently into her ears. Slowly and carefully, as Amy calmed, the Host pulled himself away from her, helping her stand.
“Miss Nelson should accompany the Host to the left wing.” She cringed, falling back, and the Host quickly steadied her.
“D-Dark said the left wing was forbidden.” She managed to utter weakly.
“The Host shakes his head and explains that Miss Nelson isn’t allowed in the left wing downstairs. If the Host were to grant permission, which he has, Miss Nelson may accompany him to the left wing on the first and second floors.” She nodded slightly, unable to protest. As he attempted to move back towards the door, she froze in place. “The Host expresses that he will not take Miss Nelson back, and will instead lead her through the left door.” Amy shook her head, mouthing illegible phrases. She felt like a child, rooted to the spot, too scared to move. He nodded understandingly. “The Host will escort her around the long way.” He grasped her hand tightly, slowly leading her back around through the centre hallway and towards the left wing. He guided her up a flight of stairs, taking her down a short hall. He stopped, and gestured to an open door, leading to what she assumed to be his bedroom. “The Host wonders if Miss Nelson would be comfortable waiting in there?” For some reason, the concept terrified her. Maybe it seemed too claustrophobic, because her body shut down, shuddering and pleading. The Host shushed her, nodding sympathetically, before moving her further down the hall. Two rooms with open doors stood to her right. At one point, they may have been spare bedrooms, though now the beds were coated in a layer of books, writing utensils and dust. The wall on her left opened out slightly, making a slight room filled with dusty couches which faced a large window. The Host gestured to it, and Amy froze up. She didn’t want to look out the window. Didn’t want to see the world she was trapped in. She felt like a fussy little kid, scared of the dark. Jumping at every little thing. It was pathetic, yet the fear that ran through her was too real to deny. The Host didn’t mind, he was overly understanding as he led her further into the left wing. She wondered if he’d ever let anyone else in here. The hall opened out to a second, smaller library. The center was open to the first floor below. The curtains were drawn, the only light coming from low-lit candles. It smelt of wax and old books, and a grandfather clocked ticked monotonously in the corner. It was calm. Amy felt her shoulders relax slightly, her lungs loosen to allow more air. Noticing the change in demeanor, The Host guided her to sit in a comfortable chair. “Miss Nelson sits in the Hosts personal library. The Host asks if Miss Nelson would like him to get her a drink of water. He would only take a moment.” She nodded weakly, and the Host made his way back down the hall. He returned soon after, and Amy took the glass gratefully. She chugged it, only realizing suddenly how parched her throat was, and how desperately she needed to rid the taste of blood. When she was done, she placed the glass down on a small wooden table beside her. Amy took a moment to let the Host’s appearance sink in. He appeared even more bedraggled than when she’d last seen him. His bandages were soaked, his cheeks coated with streaks of dried blood. It appeared as if he hadn’t changed his clothes in days. His coat was uneven, the dress shirt underneath unironed. The tips of his fingers were calloused, and his palms were stained with blood from his eyes, some of which had been rubbed off onto his pants and coat. He stood in front of her awkwardly, hands clenched together.
“Do you want to sit?” She choked out, clearing her throat slightly. He jerked slightly, before narrating himself quietly over to a chair. He moved it over, before taking a seat before her. A moment went by where he studied her in that strange way he managed to achieve without eyes.
“The Host believes Miss Nelson has a lot of questions. The Host is happy to assist.” He didn’t want to talk about earlier, which sent relief crashing through her, clearing away some of her anxiety.
“I want to know everything.” She tried, still noting how raspy her voice sounded.
“The Host expresses that everything isn’t particularly specific.” The one question that had been burned in her mind since she arrived here came forth, bursting to leave her throat. After everything she’d seen Dark do, her mind was at a loss. He wasn’t human, none of them were.
“I want to know about you, Host. How do you even exist? How do any of you exist? What are you…” She paused, fatigue and anger and fear seeping into her tone.
I can’t believe we are now this far into the story, thank you for much for sticking around! 10/15 to go! Don’t forget I’m running a Sastiel competition with amazing prizes. All you have to do is make an edit/fanart based on my Sastiel fic to be in the draw to win!