#I say on the Internet after freaking out and abandoning my room when I spotted one (1) fly on the wall

[shmowder]

im different i would've befriended those plague rats in pathologic i would've given them cheese and crackers

[bbyboybrock--archived]

Shipped (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* Omg your requests are open!! Can you do something about colby and reader dating in secret and she’s always hyping him up on everything and fans just think it’s cause they are best friends. But she posts a post wearing the love for hire letterman on accident and the fans connected it because Kat and Tara have it to so they figure out they are dating and go crazy (in a good way) for them 🥺❤️

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,967

Warnings: Major fluff, Swearing

Masterlist

I harassed Colby into letting me listen to their new music. Let’s just say, when you guys hear this, you’re going to be glad One Direction is on a break. Can’t help but stan L4H!! #numeber1fan

I press "send tweet" before plugging in my phone and taking a quick shower. When I get out of the shower I grab my phone and throw myself onto Colby’s bed. It’s our bed at this point. I spend more time at the trap house than I do my apartment, I might as well move in. I go and read the comments under my tweet. Most of them are good. Some fans want me to leak the boys' music, others are freaking out over mine and Colby’s friendship. Someone makes it a point to mention how cute Colby and I would be as a couple and linked an edit that they made. Someone commented that fans like them, the one that posted the edit, are the problem and the reason why Colby doesn’t have any friends who are girls. There is a whole fight going on under that comment.

I quickly try to defuse the situation between the fans before exiting twitter altogether. I take my towel off of my damp hair and walk back into Colby’s bathroom to detangle it. When I finish doing my hair I grab the first jacket of Colby’s that I see to get warm. Lucky for me, it’s his Love for Hire lettermen jacket. For whatever reason, this jacket is more comfortable than any hoodie I’ve stolen during our entire relationship, maybe it’s because it smells strongly like him. Or maybe it’s because I get to finally live out my high school dream of wearing my boyfriend’s lettermen. Either way, Colby knows that this is my jacket now and he’s going to have to fight me to the death for it back. I don’t know if it’s because I freshly showered and my hair is fluffy, or because my skin is thanking me for not putting makeup on it yet, but something is compelling me to take a selfie in Colby’s bathroom mirror.

I get up on to the counter and try to position myself comfortably. I take a few selfies, while carefully not exposing Colby’s messy counter. I do cute poses with peace signs and my tongue sticking out. I do serious “model” poses with hair looking like I’m in a photoshoot. I take a couple and post them on my Instagram story. I triple check each one before pressing send to make sure they end up on my close friends’ list and not my public story. That would be disastrous. I saw how people were acting in the comments of my tweet supporting Colby when a fan posted an edit wishing we were dating. I can’t imagine how his fan base would react if they knew we really are dating and have been for well over a year.

Well, I can imagine how they would react, I’ve been around Colby long enough to figure out how his fanbase functions. Most of his fans would be supportive. Of the majority, there would be roughly half who constantly would show their support over our relationship. The other half would keep quiet and try not to mention it directly so they don’t “jinx” it. No matter how open Colby is with his fans, there is still so much of his life that he has to keep private from the rest of his fans who wouldn’t be supportive of our relationship. The obsessive ones who think that Colby is a toy and belongs to only them. In all honesty, Colby and I probably would have been together longer if it wasn’t for them. We probably wouldn’t have been friends. There was a period in his life when he wouldn’t make any new female friends because of what his old friends had to go through. Because of that, Colby has always been protective of me.

Even though we’ve been friends since he moved to Los Angles, he only introduced me to his fandom two years ago. Even then, it wasn’t like, boom: “here’s a girl that I’m friends with, be nice!” Colby made sure I was properly acclimated to his side of internet stardom by having me appear in all of his other friends’ videos and photos first before a strand of my hair was placed in one of his videos. And then he said, “here’s a girl that I’m friends with, be nice!” Being a Youtuber myself, I have some experience with fandoms. But nothing could prepare me for his intense fans. For the first couple of months after Colby put me on his channel, I understood why Colby kept so many of girl friends in the dark or why some chose to stop being friends with Colby in general. It’s only a select few fans, but when there are so many comments of harassment and death threats it can get overwhelming.

Those comments died down after a while though. Mostly because I either mute certain words from my comments or I don’t read them. Colby and I try really hard to hide our relationship. If we’re in videos together, we don’t sit too close. We keep our hands to ourselves; even a simple hand on the shoulder can cause a frenzy. We only post our couple pictures on our actual secret Instagram accounts and close friends list. Our friends know not to post anything where we might look too much like a couple. We make it a point to bicker like siblings whenever we do work together. Hell, the reason I still have my apartment is to avoid people finding out we’re dating. If I have my own place, people just think I’m visiting the guys whenever I’m over. And it works, everyone just assumes that we’re really close friends.

“I’m back and I bring food!” Colby yells as he opens the door to the room. I plug my dying phone back into the charger before abandoning it in the bathroom to greet Colby.

“Oh thank God, I was beginning to think you were with your hoes. But then I ran into Sam, Jake, and Corey in the kitchen so I relaxed.” I give Colby a quick kiss and help him with the shopping bags in his hand. I set them on the bed and start going through them.

“I wish, but they were too busy for me. So I went and got us stuff for this weekend.” Colby sets the food down and helps me unload the bags.

“Oh that reminds me, we need to stop by my place after dinner so I can pack my things.” Te whole friend group is renting a log cabin in woods for Thursday to Monday morning for bonding and to get a few collars done. Colby went and got a few road trip snacks without me. Probably because I would get distracted at Target and we would never leave. It’s fine, he remembered to get my favorite snacks.

“Yeah, okay, I figured. We could have gone earlier but I had to let you sleep in after you spent all night watching tiktoks.” Colby walks over to the couch and starts to set up our lunch in front of the tv.

“To be fair, I’m not responsible for the time lost when I’m on the tok. Besides, I learned more dances to teach you!” I take off Colby’s jacket and set it at the foot of the bed before joining Colby on the couch.

“Of course you did. You know how much I love learning a new TikTok dance every day.” Colby jokes before kissing my forehead. He hands me my food and turns on Netflix.

A few minutes into our show, there’s a loud, rapid knock at the door. Annoyed, Colby paused the show and puts his food down.

“What?” Colby asks as he gets up to open the door. Sam stands on the other side, relieved. The last time Sam knocked on the door like that, Colby and I were busy… rearranging furniture.

“Oh Colby, you’re home. But I’m not here for you. Y/N, did you mean to post that on your story?” Colby moves aside to let Sam in.

“Haha, Sammy, I’m not falling for that one. Colby already tried that on me last week.” I go back to eating my food and ignore Sam.

“No, I’m being serious. Katrina said she kept trying to reach you but you’re not answering. Fans are freaking out on twitter.”

“Oh shit!” I quickly put down my food and grab my phone in the bathroom. There are miss calls and texts from Kat, Tara, and Devyn. I unlock my phone and open Instagram to check my story. Sure enough, I accidentally sent one of my selfies to my main story instead of my close friends. The selfie looks harmless enough, except I’m wearing Colby’s jacket and it’s very obvious that I’m in his bathroom. Jake moved in some of the cardboard Colby’s into Colby’s room and one of them faces the mirror, you can kind of see it in the selfie. Most people might think nothing of it, but earlier this week Kat and Tara posted pictures of them wearing Sam and Jake’s jackets. With that association alone, everyone is going to find out.

“I don’t get it, there’s only a selfie on here. Did you already delete it?” Colby yells from the bedroom. I slowly walk out of the bathroom with a confused look on his face.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” I open up my story and check how many people have seen it.

“What, I’m lost… Oh… Oh! Oh, fuck!” Colby finally gets it and does something on his phone.

“‘Oh fuck’ is right. So many people took screenshots that even if I deleted it now, it would be pointless.” I walk to the bed and throw myself facedown, like a teen in a movie after having a shitty day at school.

“And you guys are trending on Twitter,” Sam says. I almost forgot he was still here.

“Dude,” Colby warns.

“Not helpful, I get it. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Sam leaves the room and I let out a scream as soon as I hear the door close. I feel the spot next to me sink as Colby sits down and starts rubbing my back.

“Hey, Y/N, these aren’t as bad as you think. I’m only seeing positive messaged. Look,” Colby gently pats my back to get my attention.

“Really? Let me see.” I sit up, sniffle, and peek at Colby’s phone as he reads.

“Are you crying?” Colby asks as he wipes my face.

“I immediately got overwhelmed. Let me read the tweets.” I take Colby’s phone scroll through the tweets. He’s right, they’re mostly positive. I haven’t seen a negative tweet yet. That’s the opposite of how I thought this would go. A few people are telling other fans to stop assuming, but even those are calm compared to the fight I saw earlier.

“See, I guess we were stressed all this time for no reason. We can do normal couple things like our friends and not go out of our way to hide everything.”

“That’ll be nice. It was getting exhausting. What do we do now? How do you want to approach this? Live stream? Youtube video?” I look at Colby and he has a big smile on his face.

“Right now, let’s just finish lunch. We can deal with this later. Now, I’m going to take this back. I don’t want you to start crying again.” Colby strokes my hair and kisses my forehead.

“I love you, Colbs,” I say softly.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[huntertales]

Part Three: A Mother’s Love. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,212.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

in the span of less than an hour the ambulance was back on the farm, this time, for an injury that couldn't be blamed as an unfortunate coincidence. One of the kids who'd been caught bullying Timmy was in the middle of doing his chores when disaster struck. The poor kid was screaming in pain when his fingers got caught in the blade of the blade of the lawnmower trying to retrieve whatever had caused it to jam in the first place. The thing to blame was a set of rosary beads that belonged to Ruth. 

It was easy to think that one of the kids might have stolen them from the woman as a prank, only to try and discard the piece of jewelry when she ended up dead. And it just so happened to land on the exact spot where the kid went over with the lawnmower. All of that would have made sense—except the part where the mower turned on by itself. 

The kid claimed it turned off the machine like he always did when something made the mower get jammed. His friend denied any responsibility of doing such a heinous thing when eyes shifted over to him. These kids were trouble makers, but you had a strong feeling they wouldn't do anything to the point of causing bodily harm to one another. 

Sonny made sure the kid went off to the hospital safely while Dean handled the other distraught one and made sure the rest of the boys were doing all right after the chaotic morning they had. You wouldn't admit it right away, but you were a bit shaken up yourself at seeing someone so young in such pain after such a terrible accident. Luckily you helped manage to get everything back to a somewhat calm state around the home, allowing you to momentarily slip away to try and help Sam. You needed to find out what was to blame for the two deaths and freak accident. Something was murdering adults and mutilating kids. It was your job to find out who. Occasionally you hit dead ends and wrong turns, but you couldn't go down the wrong path in fear someone else might get hurt—or worse—dead.

You made your way up to Sonny’s office where you saw sitting on the other side of the desk reading through files after going through what seemed to be dozens, despite being pulled away not too long ago to help calm the chaos You helped lighten the load when you reached for a thick file of cases. What you needed right now was a distraction, some mind numbing task to help try and distract your mind. You let out a shaky breath as you sat down on the edge of the desk, needing a moment first before you dived straight in. Sam glanced up from the file he was reading to see you weren’t doing that well. He saw that look on your face many times before to know what you were thinking without needing to say it.

"You okay?" Sam asked in a concerned voice. All though he’d been around for the aftermath of things, stepping in to see what the chaos was about and watching as the kid was put into the ambulance, the sight of someone at such a young age with his hand wrapped in a dish towel soaked in blood was a disturbing sight in itself. He couldn't imagine how you and Dean were handling things. 

"Not really." You admitted to him. You didn't want to fight your denial when it was clearly written on your face. "I've witnessed a lot of messed up things in my time. But what happened to that poor kid? Seeing him cry like that from pain? For some reason....I don't know. It struck something in me. Made me want to help him. But I couldn't."

"I know what you mean." Sam muttered to himself, quiet enough so he was the only one able to hear. Only that didn't see to be the case when you gave him a strange look from his response. He nodded his head to the files you were still holding. "He'll be okay. You know better than anyone getting fingers attached is possible. Why don't you help me continue looking through these files? There's got to be something in here." 

You didn't know the extent of the kid's injuries just yet, but Sam's insensitive remark made a smile across your face at the truth. Medicine had come far. You picked a spot in the office to crack down on your pile of folders and quickly began to start reading through all of them. Going through everyone who had worked here or spent time at the farm was a tedious task. You didn't have the luxury of researching farther into the people's names other than the information Sonny kept over the years. You thought As you reached the last folder in your pile, you were starting to believe this might turn out to be a dead end. Sam, however, found something odd. The right kind of odd he was searching for. 

You made your way out of your chair and back over to the desk when Sam called for your attention. You circled around and leaned down to hover over Sam's shoulder to read the file he was holding. Your eyes wandered to the photograph clipped to the top of the file. It was of a small boy with glasses. Someone who looked awfully familiar. A heavy sigh fell from your lips when you realized who it was. You'd been trying to find a reason why Ruth and Jack were killed, along with the kid who had been attacked not too long ago. They were all connected by one kid named Timmy. You figured out who to blame, you just needed to find out why. And how to put a stop to it. 

Dean made his way up to Sonny's office after tending to the boys and taking a quick phone call from Sonny himself. You looked up from the file you still had been reading to see Dean. You gave him a worried expression from the heavy sigh that fell from his mouth first. "Kid's gonna need eight thousand stitches, but he'll be fine." The update on the kid was finally enough for you to let out a sigh of relief you’ve been needing to take, but your problem was only at the halfway point. 

"That kid was bullying Timmy before the accident, right?" Sam asked you and his brother for clarification, wondering if the lead you and him had been discussing prior might turn out to be true. Dean nodded his head. You handed over the file to the older Winchester for him to read the documents for himself. "Check this out. Timmy was found in an abandoned building about a year ago all by himself. No one was sure how long he had been there."

"And what about his parents?" Dean asked. 

"Well," You reached out to grab the file back from him after Dean handed it back over to you when he was done with it. The documents told him nothing of importance. "They posted a picture on the internet, but no one ever showed up." 

"Then, what's he doing here?" Dean wondered. "Shouldn't he be in an orphanage?"

"He kept running away from Child Services." Sam said, explaining more of the situation to help paint a better picture. "So about three months ago, Sonny offered to take him in."

"All right, so hard-ass counselors, bullies, all bite the dust, but Timmy's still standing." It didn't take much sleuthing to figure out something was wrong here. You saw from the look on Dean's face he wasn't liking how things turned out. Whenever kids were involved in cases, it made things more complicated. Somehow Timmy was in the middle of all of this. The kid who appeared to be innocent, too nilave to do any real harm. Or so he might have led you all to believe. "So, what are we talking? We got ourselves a Damien on our hands?"

"No. EMF rules out a demon." You said, shaking your head. You thought for a few seconds of what might be to blamed for this. Something you've personally dealt with once before in your time. "So...my guess? Ghost possession." 

"Meaning what, we find Timmy and shove a fistful of salt down his throat, forced ejection?" Dean questioned you about the right method to solve this problem. You shifted your gaze away from the way things were starting to look bleak. Dean didn't want to turn to that direction just yet. There had to be something else all of you could do before the drastic measure was the only option you had left. "One of you is taking the barn this time." 

The both of you agreed to the plan without fuss. Sam decided to check out the barn for himself while you chose to stay close, heading upstairs, leaving the first floor to Dean. He checked a few rooms close by the office to see there was no one in them. He hoped to find Timmy hiding in the bedroom by himself, innocently playing with his action figure and minding his own business. The best thing for situations like this was to keep the kid calm. However Dean found himself veering off track at the sound coming from the living room. He took a few steps forward to the nearby room and poked his head in, discovering an old face he wasn't expecting to ever see again. 

Sitting on the same couch was Robin from the diner, lost in her own world while strumming a few chords, warming up like how she always did before each lesson. Seeing her back again like this brought back another memory of this place. The first guitar lesson Robin had given him after their introduction back at the diner. Small talk turned into Dean answering Robin's questions about himself, things he normally gave half-ass answers to that he'd be asked in the next town. This time he gave more detail, more honesty.

Robin seemed interested to learn more about him as a person, more than most people their age cared to know. Most girls giggled at the smirk he mastered down and the mysterious persona he gave off. Almost none cared to know more than the surface level. Robin wanted to know more. She was curious to know the reason how he landed himself here and why he moved around so much. She asked about the family business, not what it was, but if Dean liked it. The conversation opened up a topic Dean never really was able to discuss before with people, especially ones his age. Himself.

Most of the time Dean lied to avoid small talk about his personal life. No one truly cared to listen to his problems. Robin wanted to. Dean quickly learned she was a great listener. He told the truth to her that day. He didn't like it. But over time he learned it was going to be his future at some point when his father deemed him ready. Someone had to keep the business going after he….retired. Robin empathized. Her waitressing job at her father’s diner was a stepping stone into her taking over the place after she was ready. Both of them bonded over fathers who wanted their children to follow in their footsteps. 

Robin declared she was going to be a photographer. She wanted to explore the world, eat all sorts of crazy foods. Dean's first response was that he wanted to be a rockstar. A stupid reponse when he didn't even know how to play an intstrument. He replied with a more realistic answer that sounded reachable, something he thought about from time to time. A mechanic seemed reachable and interesting, despite the lack of enthusiasm from Robin when she called it rough work. She didn't see it the way Dean did. Cars were like puzzles. He could pick them apart and put them back together, a problem that could leave and not be his responsibility anymore. After that answer, Robin did something he wasn't expecting. She kissed him. Dean would deny the way it took him off guard and how she was able to make him blush. It appeared to be the beginning of a possible relationship. 

At the age of sixteen everything feels like it's going to last forever. The world seemed refreshing and exciting compared to the small town Robin grew up in. Things between the two slowly began to blossom into something more than the few secret making out sessions on Sonny's porch that were supposed to be for guitar lessons. Dean remembered they were supposed to go on a date. Robin's heart was set on it. She was so excited, holding onto Dean's promise that he wasn't going anywhere…

"Oh. Hey." Robin greeted the man after spotting him standing in the doorway, stopping her strumming when she realized he was lost in thought. "What happened to you at the diner? I turned around to take your order, and you were just gone." 

“Long story.” Dean replied. “Have you seen Timmy?” 

"No, not yet, but he should be here any minute for his guitar lesson." Robin said. 

"Yeah, we're gonna cancel that." Dean told her. She looked back up from her guitar and gave him a confused expression, obviously taken back by the sudden shift in plans. "We got to get out of here, okay? I don't have time to explain. You just got to trust me.” 

"Trust you?" Robin quietly scoffed at his words. She set the instrument down by her side and gave the man a look, expressing how she was feeling. The emotions she was trying to hide back at the diner after seeing him after all these years. "And why would I do that again?"

Dean’s expression changed at the realization of her subtle confession. “You do remember me.” 

“How could I forget?’ She whispered to him. 

Dean felt a pang of regret at the sound of her voice, the hurt she was unable to hide anymore. He broke his promise of never leaving her. At the time it felt like the worst thing to ever happen. Being a teenager heightened emotions to the most extremist of levels. Over the years she learned to deal with it. She wasn't hurt about him leaving abruptly. It was that he never tried getting in contact with her. He never wrote, never tried to call. 

Over the years she got over it, forgot about it entirely and continued on with her life. Until she saw him in the diner, with the same damn smile that drove her crazy. Dean stirred up the same emotions he brought out in her when she was sixteen, there was no denying that. Along with the slight twinge of jealousy at seeing a strange woman sitting by his side. The both of them obviously moved on, but in the moment, Robin was overcome with too many emotions to process. It was easier to play pretend than tell him how she truly felt about their unexpected reunion. But she couldn't bite her tongue any longer. 

"There were reasons why I had to leave." Dean tried to explain himself vaguely as possible, knowing he owed her a proper answer. At the moment they didn't have such luxury. There were more important things in the matter. "I don't have time to explain it to you right now. I got to get you out of here." 

"Hey!" Robin shouted in anger when Dean grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her off the couch, dragging her to the front door against her will. "What are you doing?!"

Dean hoped he might be able to get her out of the house before it was too late. He was merely inches away from the open front door before some invisible force slammed it shut. The man knew better than to try prying it open. "I'm sorry." 

Dean and Robin quickly turned around to see the little boy they both were expecting to see any moment now, Timmy. He stood there with a guilty expression from what was about to unfold. “Sorry about what, Timmy?” Dean asked him. 

“I can’t stop it.” He said. 

Dean flinched while Robin let out a terrified yelp when a vase crashed against the wall from behind them, spooking them from the nightmare that was about to unfold. Chaos unfolded around them when Dean instruced Robin to head to the kitchen, trying to get them to avoid the flying debris of breakable objects and furniture the ghost was controlling. Dean grabbed an iron poker from the fireplace set for an extra precautionary move in case whoever was responsible for this tried to show their face. 

You came running down the stairs when you heard the commotion unfolding, calling out the older Winchester's name in a panicked tone. You narrowly missed a lamp flying in your direction when you saw the man standing in the dining room with Robin fleeing for the kitchen. All around you things were breaking and shattering, telling you the ghost was pissed as hell. Everyone needed to get out of here before it was too late. 

Victory of an escape seemed attainable when Sam arrived back from the barn, using the backdoor instead. Dean tried to instruct his brother to leave it open long enough for Robin to escape, only it sealed shut the second after the younger man stepped inside. Much as Sam tried to somehow get the door to budge even the slightest, you could tell it was locked. The ghost wasn't going to let you go anywhere. But it didn't mean you were screwed just yet. You raced to the cabinets, frantically searching for salt before you found a box. 

"Circle." You instructed the younger Winchester, tossing him over the box. 

"Dean, what—" Robin stuttered slightly with her words while trying to form a complete sentence. Everything she was witnessing was too much for her to process. The panic on her face was clear as day. You knew Sam pouring salt on the ground wasn't helping the situation currently unfolding around her. "What just happened in there?”

"Okay, listen to me." Dean spoke to the woman in an eerily calm voice, giving her clear instructions on how to handle the situation if she wanted to make it out of here alive. "Whatever happens, you stay inside this circle. Understood?"

"All right." Sam stood back up after making a circle big enough for Robin to fit comfortably inside, and the rest of you if need be. He turned his head at the exact moment to see Timmy standing there again. "Guys..."

“I can’t control her.” Timmy said. 

“Can’t control who?” Dean questioned the kid. 

"Your mom, right?" Sam guessed the right answer before Timmy could. You furrowed your brow slightly from the person who was responsible for all of this. It seemed Sam found something in the barn his brother didn't. The younger man made his way over to Timmy and crouched down so he was now at eye level. "Timmy, listen. We need you to tell us about the fire, okay?"

Sam found a wall full of disturbing drawings that were clearly done by a child. All of it told a story, the one about how Timmy lost his mother and became an orphan. "It was late, and we were driving home when we crashed in the woods. Everything was on fire. But she saved me, she pushed me out...before the car blew up...with her in it." 

Your heart broke for the poor kid when you listened to the story of how he became an orphan. The way he lost his mother was traumatic enough on someone his age, but having to witness it as well only added more pain. Sam knew the kid wasn't the one responsible for all of this. Possession felt to be out of the question. A ghost was haunting Timmy, following his every move since the accident. Protecting him from any dangers she thought fit. "But that's not all, was it?"

"I ran through the woods. I found an empty building, where I hid. I was scared. It was dark and cold. So I cried. I cried for my mom." Timmy continued on with the rest of the story, helping paint a more broader picture of how all of this came to be. Slowly the pieces were starting to come together. "And she came." 

"But she had changed, right?" Sam asked. He remembered how the drawings Timmy made slowly turned strange and slightly disturbing near the end. His mother turned into a dark figure that loomed over her child, a monsterous guardian destroying any possible threats.  

Timmy nodded his head to answer the man’s question. Your eyes wandered down to the action figure he always seemed to be holding. A smile stretched across your lips from the question you asked him. "I'll bet she gave you that cool action figure, huh?"

"Yeah." Timmy said, looking down at the toy. "When I turned nine." 

"Timmy..." Sam captured the boys' attention again when he figured out what was anchoring his mother's spirit after all. Your eyes darted over to her spirit when she appeared out of thin air. What remained of her body after the explosion left her severely burned and disfigured. "I'm gonna need that action figure." 

Before the younger Winchester could try and put an end to this nightmare, Timmy's mother struck first, throwing Sam across the room. You called out the man's name in a panicked tone while Dean struck the ghost with the iron poker he grabbed for this exact reason. You were given precious seconds to snatch the toy from Timmy when he wasn't suspecting it and went straight to the oven. The kid let out a shout of protest from what you were doing, the only gift he had left from his mother was being destroyed right in front of his eyes. Dean pushed the kid into the circle with Robin to keep him safe. You turned on one of the burners to the highest setting and dropped the action figure into the small flames. All of you watched as the hunk of plastic began to slowly melt, Bruce shouting his catchphrase over and over again until his recorded voice slowly faded into silence. 

You made the wrongful decision in letting out a sigh of relief a little too early, thinking you solved the problem for good. Only you pissed off the spirit even more. You realized your potentially fatal mistake when you felt a gush of wind come out of nowhere, destroying the circle of salt, leaving Robin and Timmy vulnerable to a mother's wrath. If she wasn't pissed off before at you, she sure as hell was now. 

"It looks like it wasn't the action figure that was anchoring her here, guys." Sam pointed out the obvious, making you roll your eyes in frustration. 

"Then what is?!" You questioned him. 

Sam thought for a second of what else might be keeping the woman's spirit here longer than it was intended. His gaze fell upon a scared Timmy. The kid who was innocently to blame for all of this from the things he said that night. "Him." 

Most of the time when you dealt with spirits the only way they could keep from passing over to the afterlife was their body or some kind of object they were able to attach themselves to. Clearly none of those were an option. Sam figured that you might be approaching this all wrong. Your object was inanimate, it was a living breathing human boy who cried for his mother to come back. The boys stepped over to the oven to quickly discuss this and how you were going to be able to solve this.

"You know what? I think maybe his mom can't let go and she's still protecting him from the grave." Sam whispered loud enough for you and Dean to hear, sharing his possible hunch. 

"Protecting him from what?" Deana asked. He thought back to the victims that died at the hands of the woman. All people who made Timmy's life uncomfortable. The pattern was repeating itself again for you. "What, from us?"

"It makes sense." You said. "Maybe she doesn't know what threats are real and what's not, so she just attacks all of them." 

"Great." Dean muttered. He figured there was only one way out of this, one that was dangerous and stupid. Nothing he would ever be able to go through with. "So, what, unless we waste the kid, we're sitting ducks?"

Robin must've overheard what Dean said about potentially hurting a child that didn't do anything wrong. Her mind was still trying to process how doors were able to slam shut on their own and objects flying around the room. She was pushed to her breaking point. You looked over in Robin's direction when you heard her mumble something to herself before darting out the door when she had the chance. Dean called out the woman's name in a frustrated tone and followed after, hoping he might be able to catch up to her before it was too late. 

You and Sam decided to focus your attention on Timmy, figuring you might be able to help make the kid understand better what was going on. You approached the kid and kneeled down to his level after he sank to the ground, thinking if you were at a better eye level he might listen to you better. You gave him a warm smile and tried your hardest to get him to at least consider putting a stop to this once and for all. 

"Timmy, we're gonna need your help, okay?” You told him in a calm, almost neutering voice. You thought of you approached this like you were a parent yourself, hoping you might be able to fool his mother you meant no harm. Timmy barely made eye contact with you. "Listen to me. I need you to focus, okay. We are not here to hurt you. I promise." 

His mother didn't believe in your words. She did what she thought was best for her child, destroying the threat she thought was trying to harm him. You and Sam found yourselves being thrown across the room to get you far away from Timmy as possible. Dean rushed back into the kitchen to see you and his brother were in trouble. But before he could try and help, Timmy's mother struck again, tossing his body where a table broke his fall and crushed underneath the man's weight. All of you struggled to somehow try and break free from the woman's grip she had on all of you. The one person who could put an end to all of this only looked at the chaos unfolding around him, still unsure of what to do. If he was even able to anymore. 

"I can't stop her." Timmy whispered with an almost apologetic tone to his voice. 

“Timmy, you have to try!" Dean told the kid. He tried to reach the kid on a more emotional level to pull out the strength he knew Timmy had. Force the kid to grieve his pain and move on from the past. While the grip Timmy's mother had around his body was making it painful to breathe, even almost impossible to talk, Dean persevered. "She came to you when you cried out for her. Now you have to tell her to stop and go away!"

"She's my mom." Timmy said. He sounded fearful to stand up to the woman who had only tried protecting him. Saying goodbye to her after all she did felt wrong. He thought he would be all alone for good. No one to care for him, no one to love him. And to protect him from the bad things in the world. 

"She's a ghost, Timmy, because she can't move on, she's going crazy. Okay? You got to let her go. You'll be okay." Dean tried to reassure the kid that what he was about to do was the right thing. Timmy was still hesitant. His mother lashed out harder, trying to silence the three of you from making her son do something he didn't want to. "Listen to me. Sometimes you gotta do what's best for you, even if it's gonna hurt the ones you love." 

Timmy forced himself to at least listen to what Dean was saying. He hesitated for a few seconds before he pushed himself up to his feet. He adjusted his glasses before he spoke up, finally doing what needed to be done. "Mommy...stop it." His voice came off timid and too quiet, causing his command to go unnoticed by his mother. Dean managed to use what breath left in his lungs to remind the kid of the trick he taught him when they first met. A Kung Fu grip. All he needed to do was be more firm. "Mommy, stop it! You're hurting people!" 

His words seemed to have done the trick. The grip around your body suddenly vanished, letting you and the boys finally inhale the much needed air you were deprived from. Timmy's mother turned around to face her child. Despite the heinous things she had done, she believed it was the right thing to do. It was all out of love. She opened up her arms and gave her son a smile, a sad smile that begged him not to let her go.

"You have to go. Never come back. I'll be okay. I promise." Timmy comforted his mother. It was the words that needed to be said, not only for himself, but for his mother as well. Both of them needed to properly heal from the tragic night. Slowly, the wounds from the terrible night faded away, leaving Timmy's mother back to the way she always looked. She wanted the last image he'd ever have of her the proper one. She gave him one last painful smile. "I love you, too."

No parent who loves their child wants to leave them against their will. They want to protect them, shield them from the dangers of the world. But Timmy proved to his mother that he was going to be fine. He stood up for himself. All of you watched as Timmy's mother slowly vanished out of your sight, finally letting go and passing over into the afterlife. A moment like this was bittersweet. Timmy was finally able to do what he never could before. But it cost him the chance to ever see his mother again. 

Timmy suddenly ran over to Dean, the one who helped him through all of this. A smile crept across your face at the sight of the man embracing Timmy into a tight hug. He understood the pain of losing a parent. No matter the age, it hurt knowing you were alone in the world. Dean patted the kid on the back and whispered to him that everything was going to be okay.

[Next Part]

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[elizabeethan]

Walk With Me (I Think We’ll Find A Way)- Chapter 7/8

Killian Jones travels across realms to find Emma and Henry in New York after receiving an anonymous message about a new curse. When he finally tracks her down, he makes a bold move and greets her at her front door, but before he can even attempt to convince her to come back to Storybrooke with him, he’s met with a surprise that will change his life.

Season 3B AU

Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Read on Ao3

It’s here friends :) One chapter to go!!

The most beautiful header on the planet was made by @xhookswenchx, in case you were wondering

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“Because I commanded you not to.”

The words tore a hole through Emma’s chest. Her foolish son somehow found his way to the woods and was standing off to the side with the Dark One’s dagger, holding it in front of himself and facing it towards Gold.

“Henry,” Neal starts, and she wants to scream at him to run, get out of here! but she can’t. Her brain has stopped working and her lips won't move. She feels Killian squeezing her arm but she can’t turn away from her child putting himself between her and the fucking Dark One.

“Get out of here, Henry,” Gold says.

“We’re not going anywhere, Rumple.”

Belle materializes behind Henry and Emma wants to explode. Where the hell is Corrine, if the two of them are here?!

“Belle, what are you doing?”

“You know why I’m here, Rumple. I’m not letting you steal this town’s memories just because you think it would bring me back to you.”

“No, no. That's not what I'm doing. I’m doing this for my son.”

She shakes her head and steps in front of Henry, who’s still wielding the dagger threateningly. He refuses to turn around towards Emma, which means she’s unable to reach out and grab for him. She’s worried that if she moves from this spot, Neal just might kill her.

“I left you, in the Enchanted Forest. I didn’t remember doing it, but I did it. And now you're here, doing the exact thing that I left you for doing!”

“Belle,” Neal tries, but she shoots him a threatening look.

“What you’re doing is selfish and dangerous. Neal, Emma’s clearly made her choice, and you need to accept that. If you truly love her like you say you do, you’d accept that.”

“I’m doing this for her; for us!”

“You’re endangering your son and her daughter. That’s not love, Neal. I should’ve seen a long time ago that wanting to control and manipulate someone isn’t the same as loving someone.”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Belle!” Gold tries.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you all this time, Rumple. Your heart really is rotten, isn’t it?” He doesn't have a chance to answer. “Henry, the dagger, if you please,” she says, taking it from him as Emma breathes a sigh of relief. “Rumple, I want you to transport Neal to a cell in the sheriff’s station, and then you’re going to take us to the town line. We need to be alone for what comes next.”

They disappear in a cloud of red smoke. Emma’s hesitant to believe that this is all over, but the three of them are gone and Henry is standing safe and dagger-less a few feet away from her. “Henry,” she says, hating the worry laced through her tone.

“Mom,” he calls with a smile as he runs for her, throwing himself into her waiting arms.

“What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been seriously hurt! Where’s your sister?”

“With grandma—”

“Henry,” Regina interrupts. Emma sighs, wanting nothing more than to continue to hug her son but accepting the fact that her life isn’t that simple. He turns towards her voice and his face is alight once again.

“Mom!” he calls, running towards her for an emotional reunion.

Rather than watch the two of them together, she turns towards Killian and smiles. He looks down to her and takes her hand in his, squeezing gently.

“Well, Swan, I do believe—”

“We’ve gotta go,” David calls as he tucks his phone into his back pocket. “Robin, can you make sure Neal is where he’s supposed to be? Emma, you’ve gotta come with me. Mary Margaret just went to the hospital and had to bring Corrine with her.”

“The baby?” she asks, pulling Killian along with her toward her father’s truck.

“He or she is on their way.”

~~~~

Henry rides to the hospital with Regina in Gold’s car. Emma’s honestly a bit surprised that Regina is even bothering coming to the hospital, until she pulls up to the doors, drops Henry off, and pulls away again. Typical.

“Your mom didn’t want to come in?” Emma asks him, and he shrugs.

“Something about family bonding or whatever. It’s okay.”

They walk into the lobby and see Corrine sitting happily with Ruby, Tink on the other side of the coffee table and rolling a small ball towards her as she squeals with laughter. She hears Ruby gasp who’s that? before Corrine whips around and starts running towards her parents and brother as fast as her fat little legs can carry her.

“Hello, my love,” Killian says as he scoops her up, making a grunt as if his body is protesting. What a dad.

“Hi,” she says once she’s up. “Ball.” She holds up the small green ball in Killian’s face, making him back away with a laugh.

“You’re playing ball with Ruby? And…” he turns, cocking his head, “Tink.”

“Hi, Hook.”

“Curse is broken,” Ruby says by way of explanation. “Turns out you two weren’t the only ones getting it on after Neverland.”

“Ah,” he says with a blush, and Emma’s smiling until she hears Henry speak up.

“What does that mean?”

Ruby shoots them all a wolfish grin.

Prince Oliver Leopold is born mere hours after they arrived at the hospital; a healthy, happy boy who somewhat resembles his niece and nephew but has his mother’s bright green eyes.

Emma holds her baby brother and swoons at his plump lips and swollen eyes and rosy cheeks and before she knows it, she has baby fever, dammit. It’s worse when Killian takes the baby from her at David’s insistence and starts cooing. Captain Hook is cooing at a newborn.

Corrine won’t stop saying baby. It’s so adorable. She wants to hold her new uncle (Emma won’t ever get used to that), but refuses any help and would definitely forget to support his head, so a tantrum ensues, naturally. Killian hands the baby back to his mother and takes Corrine out to the hall, because apparently he’s already become an expert parent and handles tantrums flawlessly.

When she leaves the room a few minutes later to check on things, she finds them in the waiting room, Corrine on Killian’s lap with her thumb shoved in her mouth while he holds his phone in front of her. Emma rolls her eyes.

“We should probably try something aside from handing her a phone whenever she freaks out,” she reasons to him with a smile.

“Probably, but this always works so well. Plus, it’s rather catchy.”

When she gets closer, she sees that he’s playing a One Direction music video. Corrine is so fully engrossed that she’s barely dancing, just staring into the screen and bopping her free fist up and down slightly. “You're whipped,” she says to him with a snort as he smiles softly.

“Not since I was a lad.” Shit, she thinks, her face dropping. Poor choice of words.

“I’m sorry,” she says hesitantly. “I didn’t think before I said that, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, love,” he says with the same smile.

“Yuh you, yuh you momma,” Corrine says with a cheeky grin shot Emma’s way.

“I love you, too,” she returns.

“Yuh you, duddy.”

He leans down to her and kisses her cheek tenderly, chuckling lightly. “I love you, too, darling.”

She tries to say darling but it doesn’t come out quite right as she struggles with her Ls. It’s cute either way, and she’s still the smartest baby around.

“I think this one is overdue for a nap. Care to tag along?” she asks as Corrine reaches up for her and she scoops her up. They’ve barely eaten or slept today, so she’s surprised Corrine is even still functioning.

“Sure.” Killian stands, locking his phone and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans like a real twenty first century man.

~~~~

Henry asks to go to the sheriff’s station on their way back to Granny’s. Emma isn’t sure what he’s going to say to his father, but she assumes he’s about to get an earful from a rightfully angry thirteen-year-old.

Henry gained his memories back, but his old, cursed ones remained. This means that, while he finally remembers who he really is, he also remembers the story Emma gave him about his father. The reason he was abandoned is clear in his head, along with the betrayal that comes with almost having his memories wiped again and his sister removed from his life at the hands of the same man.

Safe to say, Henry is pissed.

Killian offers to go into the station with him and he accepts, as long as Killian promises not to listen in. Emma’s heart is racing the entire time they’re gone, but Corrine’s soft snores and gentle kicks to the seat in front of her keep her mind somewhat at ease for the ten minutes that they’re inside.

When they emerge from the building, she notes that they're both looking down as they walk to the car with somber looks on their faces. She wants to ask what they talked about, but she knows Henry would rather not talk about it, so when they get into the car, she drives towards the inn silently.

Henry decides to take a nap as well, so Emma puts Corrine in her crib and shoots him a gentle smile before grabbing the monitor and leaving the room to cross the hall towards Killian’s door.

“Hi,” he says as she enters, glancing up from the book he was reading on his bed.

“Hey.”

“Alright?” she shrugs, contemplatively standing before him before crossing the room and taking a seat on the other side of the bed. He closes his book and crosses his ankles before shifting so that he can face her.

“Weird day.”

“I’ll say,” he chuckles. “Would you like to lie down, Swan?”

She shrugs again. “I would, but I'm scared to go to sleep. We still haven’t seen Belle, so we don't know what happened to Gold.”

“Aye,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I think I trust her to make the right decision in that regard.”

“She’s taken him back countless times before, though.”

“It’s a complicated relationship, love. She said something about having left him when they were in the Enchanted Forest, and she’s obviously still angry.”

“Yeah.” She sighs deeply, sinking a bit further into the mattress as he places his arm on a pillow behind her back.

“Lie down, love. You're exhausted; I’ll stay up and make sure nothing goes awry.”

She sticks her lips out in a pout of contemplation, but the heat of his arm behind her neck is tempting along with the memory of his body shaped around hers during the night. “You’ll stay here the entire time? Unless Corrine wakes up?”

“Promise.” She nods at him, scooting herself down so that she’s lying with her head on his chest and her arm slung across his waist. She takes a moment before she hitches her ankle up and over his own, breathing heavily as she feels her body begin to relax. “Swan?” he says softly.

“Hmm?”

“Can you tell me what Baelfire did to you? What were your parents talking about?”

She tenses in his arms, squeezing her fist around his shirt until her knuckles are white. “He, uh, he left me. He betrayed me. Before we were together, he stole some watches and hid them, and then I went to go get them because he had wanted posters floating around. He went to fence the watches and when I met him afterwards, the police picked me up. He had given me a watch as a gift, and that was all the evidence they needed. Turns out he was the one who called the cops.”

“Bloody hell.” His hand runs along her spine with a comforting pressure as she relives one of her worst moments.

“Turns out August told him I was destined to be the Savior and he had to leave me, but the decision to call the cops was all him. So I went to jail for eleven months and that’s where I had Henry.”

“I’m sorry, Swan. That’s awful.” His voice is soft as it rumbles through the soft afternoon light in the room

“I’ve had a lot of time to get past it,” she shrugs

He nods against her hair and she revels in the gentle squeeze he gives her, the compression against her chest soothing her nerves.

“Swan,” he says again, and she lets out a breathy chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“What does whipped mean, in that context?”

She wants to groan, still disgusted with herself for even saying it, but she answers anyway. “It means she has you wrapped around her tiny little finger. I’m pretty sure she could convince you to do anything for her without so much as blinking.”

He laughs. “You’re probably right.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, and she thinks she might fall asleep, but something stops her and makes her speak.

“She loves you so much,” she says after a few moments.

“Aye, I love her as well.”

“She needs you in her life, you know.”

He intakes a breath and she thinks she may feel the ghost of his lips pressing into her hair. “I need her, too,” he says softly.

She nods her head against his chest and takes in the scent of leather and sea and rum. He may have traded in his leather slacks for jeans, but he still smells the same, and she’s relieved. “That’s why… that’s why we’re staying here.”

She feels his body freeze as his arm tightens around her and his breath hitches in his throat. “Aye?”

“Mhmm. After everything, I just… I want to be close to my family. I almost lost them again today, even though a part of me still doesn't believe that Neal would do that, but… still.”

“I have trouble believing it myself.”

“Yeah. But Corrine likes it here. Henry obviously does too, and as much as it pains me to say, his mother is here. And... you're here.”

He rolls them over so that she’s on her side and he’s facing her before he takes his hand and runs it along her cheek gently. “I would've gone with her. With you.”

“I would've let you. But I'd rather stay put.”

He hums out a soft laugh, one that says I can’t believe this is happening, then touches his index finger along her brow and down the side of her face before he reaches his hand behind her head and pulls the two of them together in a soft, warm kiss.

She kisses him back instantaneously, swiping her tongue out against his soft lips as a sigh escapes her mouth. She feels so relaxed in his arms, and the feeling of him gently massaging her lips with his own and his fingers stroking against her scalp with gentle pressure is lulling her back into the sense of calm that she’s been missing. She thinks she could get really turned on if she lets herself, but for now, the chaste, gentle kisses relax her into a state of bliss.

She pulls away from the unexpected kiss after a few moments and sighs through her nose, pressing their foreheads together and biting her bottom lip. “I’m glad you have your heart back,” she says after a moment. “It probably wouldn't have been very fun kissing a heartless Killian.”

“I think I still would have had fun kissing you even without a heart.”

She hums out a laugh. “Yeah, but this is much better. Are you okay? After the whole heart thing?”

“Aye, I’ve been through dire straits before, nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Right,” she laughs before pressing her body close to his and snuggling her head into his chest. “Can you tell me what happened?”

He clears his throat. “Neal must've knocked me out. Or it was the Crocodile, I'm not sure. But I woke up in the cabin surrounded by potions and spells and other nefarious things and knew something was wrong.”

“That’s where they were making the memory potion.”

“Aye,” he confirms. “Neal told me his plan, then he sent me back to the loft for dinner without my heart so that he could control me. He wanted to see me suffer and lose everything I hold dear. I believe the Dark One must've enchanted his hand somehow and that’s how he was able to control me.”

“What a bastard. I can't wrap my head about it.” He hums softly in agreement. “What was it like? Not having it, I mean.”

He’s still and quiet as he takes in a breath, then answers, “it’s like I was dead. I was so numb and empty, I couldn’t feel anything but pain and fear. But when you put it back, love, I’ve never felt better.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. Picturing the way he must have felt causes Emma near-physical pain “That sounds awful.”

He changes the subject away from his suffering easily. “May I ask you something else?” she nods against him. “When did you know? That it wasn’t me?”

She shrugs, the painful memories of last night flooding back into her mind. “Before you even got there I knew something was wrong. Henry said you left him alone at Gold’s and I knew you wouldn’t do that. And during dinner, Corrine refused to even look at you because she’s a smart baby and she even knew something wasn’t right. But it was really clear after dinner when you said you were leaving.” She nearly chokes on the words as they leave her lips.

“You have to know how hard I tried to not say it.”

She nods, thinking back to the tears in his eyes and the tight grip he had on her wrist. “I do know, I saw it. You were fighting him.”

“Aye, I was,” he whispers.

“You were doing it for your family.”

His grip on her tightens still and he presses another kiss to the crown of her head before he says, “that I was, love.”

~~~~

Despite no longer living in a magical forest over which he reigns as king, Emma’s father chooses to have a small ceremony to celebrate the birth of his son. As strange as it is to be 30 years older than her brother, and for his niece and nephew to be older than him, Emma happily attends the small gathering hosted at Granny’s once everyone has finally woken up from their naps. Their sleep schedules are going to be completely messed up for the rest of the week, but that’s something she’ll just have to deal with.

When Corrine, Henry, Killian, and Emma finally find their way down to the diner, the party is in full swing. Emma doesn’t miss Killian playfully swiping a donut from Ruby’s tray, giving a little piece to Corrine and finishing the rest himself. She could scold him for feeding her sweets before dinner, but seeing them together and seeing her back to her normal playful self with him makes her heart swell.

She catches Belle at the counter and hops into a stool beside her. “Thanks for your help today.”

“Oh, of course.”

“What, uh,” she starts again, contemplating whether or not it’s logical to start this conversation. “What happened to Gold?”

She purses her lips and looks down. “I sent him over the town line. He won't be back.”

“I’m sorry.” No matter how much she can’t stand Gold, she couldn’t imagine being in Belle’s position; loving someone so evil and having to make such a hard choice.

“Don’t be. I did leave him, you know, in the Enchanted Forest. He started working with Neal and… I was just unhappy with the changes I was seeing with him. He was starting to show his true self. So I left, and he seemed to just snap. I knew they were going to do something drastic when I found out that Neal spoke with your parents, so that’s when I stole the memory potion and sent that message to Killian.”

Emma draws her brows close together as she spins in the stool to face Belle. “Wait, you sent the message?”

“Yeah, you didn’t know?”

Emma shakes her head; the information is making more and more sense the more she learns. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. You probably saved everyone in Storybrooke. You definitely saved my family.”

She smiles up at Emma. “It was the right thing to do,” she says, before she becomes distracted by whomever has just entered the diner. When Emma turns, she sees Robin’s friend Will waving at her and making his way towards them. She excuses herself when he kisses Belle’s temple softly and wiggles his eyebrows at Emma.

When she gets to the booth that Henry’s sitting at, she takes a seat enthusiastically and bumps his shoulder with his, making a comment about his new uncle to which he barely responds.

“I’m sorry, kid. I know this sucks,” she says after a moment of pointless small talk.

“Yeah.”

“You spent two years thinking your life was one thing and now it’s something completely different.”

He nods. He’s silent for a few moments and she sits with him, knowing that he may need time to ponder through his thoughts. “Why did he do it?” he finally asks.

She sighs and puts an arm around him. “I don't really know, Henry. Your dad… something happened to him and he just couldn’t handle not having his family with him.”

“We weren’t ever a family, though, not really. I mean, sure, we hung out, but it wasn’t anything like what you and I have, or even what me and Regina have.” She nods. “It was only a few months that I knew him. And he left you in jail.”

“I know. I’m sorry that you had to see your dad like that.” He shrugs. “You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”

With a nod, he says, “I know. That’s not what I'm worried about.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods. “What made you come to the woods? What happened with you and Belle that made you do that?”

He shrugs again. “I don't know, really. We were messing around at Granny’s and I was talking about how mad I was, and that I wanted to just take the dagger and give both of them a piece of my mind. Then Belle said ‘if only we had the dagger,’ and I told her we did have it. And she said we had to go and put an end to this. You guys probably should have just brought it with you.”

Emma nods in response, laughing lightly at his logic. She was expecting some type of grand revelation between the two of them, but the reality was much more simply: Belle knew that Neal and Gold were up to no good, and she decided that she had the power to put a stop to it. “You’re right, we should have. Luckily, we had you to save our butts.”

“My dad…” he starts, ignoring her lightheartedness. “I just can't believe he would do something like this.”

She makes a bold move and says, “is that what you told him? When you went to the sheriff’s station?”

Henry chuckles sadly and rolls his eyes. “You mean Killian didn’t tell you?”

She bumps his shoulder again and responds, “I don’t think he would even if I begged. He respects you too much.”

He nods back at her, still looking down at his glass of water and plate of cake. “I guess I told him that. I told him I was done with him. I said he could’ve had a chance but he ruined it by doing this.” Emma nods softly. As much as it hurts to hear her son say these things about his father, a part of her must admit that she’s relieved to hear that he’s made this decision. She isn’t exactly psyched at the concept of giving Neal visitation rights after this. “I told him he’s a selfish dick for trying to keep my mom away from the guy she loves.”

She freezes at that, and not because her kid is using the unsavory language that he probably learned from her. Henry has always been a smart, perceptive kid, but has he always been this perceptive? To the point where he knows she loves Killian before she does? “Henry...” she tries to speak but can’t.

“It’s okay mom. Maybe two years ago I would’ve wanted you to be with my dad, but… I don’t know. Hook has only been here for a few weeks and he’s been more of a dad to me than Neal ever has.”

~~~~

Corrine is put to bed by her father several hours later after a tantrum over not being able to put her hand in a bowl of hot soup. She wanted to grab the floating crackers as Tink dropped them into the dish, and each time Killian stopped her hand she screamed no at him. At one point, it started to get out of hand and Emma called, “Corrine Alice Swan, you get your hand away from that bowl, right now,” as if the child could understand full sentences. She understood the tone, though, and boy, did she respond with a vengeance.

Killian took her upstairs to her crib once she started screaming so loudly that Emma’s sure the entire town heard. Now that she can’t hear the blood curdling screech anymore, she’s about 98% certain that Killian is in the bedroom playing a One Direction music video, but that’s alright. The two of them dancing along together is quite possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen, so she thinks she’ll let it slide as she ascends the stairs and opens the door slowly.

What she’s met with is not a pair of One Direction fans, but rather, a swaying Killian holding a tearful but relatively calm Corrine as he hums lowly in her ear and rubs up and down along her back. Emma swoons, again overtaken by the image of dad-Killian in all his glory.

He’s only known his daughter for about five weeks, but in that time they’ve become so close. Each day, Corrine learns more and more as she explores her world, and Killian is always trying to help her along by teaching her new words and phrases. He’s a natural with her, especially at this age, and the more of it Emma sees, the more she wants.

“It’s time for sleep, my darling. Mummy and daddy will be here when you wake,” he whispers softly into her hair, and when Emma looks again, she sees Corrine’s thumb hanging out of her mouth and her face squished into his shoulder. He turns around and catches Emma’s eye, blushing fiercely as he bends to place the baby in her crib. Once she’s settled, he rubs a finger along her sweet face to remove one final tear and backs away before making his way towards the door and following Emma out.

Emma doesn’t miss the promise he makes his sleeping child to be here when she wakes up; he’s still reeling from almost losing her, and it breaks her heart.

“She didn’t need the phone, huh?” she jokes as they make their way down the stairs.

He laughs lightly in response and says, “I believe she was too tired for that. It’ll be difficult to get her back on schedule, I’d say.”

When they get back into the diner, Killian disperses into the crowd and Emma sees Henry talking to Regina. She’s happy that he’s rebuilding his relationship with her, she really is, but she’s also having trouble getting past their history. Try as she might, she can’t unsee that small child waiting on her doorstep begging for help defeating his Evil Queen mother.

Regina stands from the booth when Emma makes herself visible and walks over to her, clearing her throat and brushing down her blouse before she speaks. “Emma, I was thinking it might be good for Henry to spend the night at my house tonight. He’s open to it, but said we had to check with you,” she says bitterly.

Emma raises her brows, glancing back at Henry, who gives her a smile. “He is?”

“Yes,” she responds sharply, as if Emma has offended her. “He has his own room, why should he stay here?”

Emma lets out an exasperated huff but nods her head. As much as her delivery absolutely sucked, Regina has a point. Perhaps she should start thinking of a permanent living arrangement herself. “Okay, if he wants to, then that’s fine.”

Regina looks chuffed as she says, “good,” with the soft hint of a smile before heading back to the booth to collect Henry.

With both kids gone or asleep, Emma suddenly finds herself free of her motherly duties for at least the next few hours, and so decides to follow Killian to the patio with two tumblrs of rum, neat.

“So, Gold’s gone,” she says once she’s sitting next to him, and he tips his glass to her in thanks.

“Aye, I ran into Belle earlier. Relieved?”

She nods, taking a sip from her glass. “Yeah. I’m still… I don’t know. I’m pissed.” He nods back at her. “He knew that we… were together on the ship, so he’s known this whole time. He knew it in the Enchanted Forest, and he knew it when he came back here. He could have just let it go and accepted that it was over between us, but he didn’t. And he messed up because of that.”

“Aye. It’s quite frustrating, isn’t it?” She nods in agreement and rolls her eyes as she stares into her glass. “Do you think he knew about Corrine all this time?”

“That she’s ours?” He nods. “No, I think he genuinely blocked the possibility that we have a kid out of his mind. I think when he found out from you and Henry at the pier, that’s what clicked his plan into place for him. He realized that he would’ve lost without this memory potion.”

“Makes sense,” he starts, sitting up in his seat slightly. “I mean, it doesn’t. But it does.”

“Yeah.” They clink their glasses together as they both finish the contents, feeling the warmth rushing through their veins as it combats the cool bite of the late-autumn air. “I have a question,” she states.

“Go on.”

“Can you tell me what Henry said to Neal?”

He purses his lips, glancing up at her and shaking his head. “I don't want to violate his trust, love, but I can tell you that he’s a very smart lad.” She nods. “And I can also tell you,” he starts again, slowly and hesitantly reaching his hand towards her’s, “that Bae is not exactly safe to be around, and I’d feel much more comfortable if you and Henry stayed far away from him.”

“Did he threaten Henry?” She feels her palms starting to sweat.

“Not Henry, love. The lad stepped away from the bars and Neal said some things about you that I’d rather not repeat. That I wish your son hadn’t heard. I stepped a bit too close— in anger, I’ll admit— and he lunged for me, as well.”

She nods her head again, looking down at the table grievously at the news. Before everything, before Neverland and before the curse, she thought she may have been able to have a good co-parenting relationship with Neal, or that they may have even been able to become friends again. But now, he’s gone and ruined everything because he thought he could have more than he even deserved.

“Thanks for going with him.”

“Of course I would, love.”

“And thanks for… for coming after us, in New York. If you hadn’t…”

He shakes his head to silence her and says, “It was the right thing to do.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a few more moments before she says, “can I ask you something else?”

“What is it, darling?” She smiles at the fond nickname.

“How did you do it? How did you get to us?”

He looks down with a small, shy smile and says, “Well, the curse was coming, so I ditched my crew and took the Jolly Roger as fast and as far as I could to outrun it.”

“You outran a curse?” she asks with a doubtful smile.

“I’m a hell of a captain,” he returns in a flirty tone, to which she responds with a soft laugh. “Once I was outside the curse’s purview, I knew that the walls were down. Transport between realms was possible again; all I needed was a magic bean.”

“Those are not easy to come by.”

He looks down again and takes a breath. “They are if you have something of value to… trade.” His words are clearly calculated as they leave his mouth.

She hums again and asks, “and what was that?”

He smiles, eyes still looking at the ground, until he looks up and raises his brows at her, smiling as if he wasn’t about to admit to her that he sold his heart and home to find her and save her family. “Why the Jolly Roger, of course.”

She’s frozen. Her brows pinch together as they often do when he says something heartfelt and profound, although this time feels different. It feels like more. “You traded your ship for me?”

He doesn’t hesitate, answering her with a firm nod. “Aye.”

It happens so fast; she’s kissing him and his hand is lacing through her hair and hers through his. Her heart feels about ten times bigger than it should be at the feeling of his lips on hers after such an emotional confession, and she doesn't know if she’ll survive much more of his thoughtful words and selfless actions. When she finally pulls from him slightly, it’s as if he’s taking stock of what’s happening between them; as if he can’t quite believe that they’re here despite having been here before.

“I—” she starts, although she isn’t quite sure what she wants to say. She smiles as he does, the feel of his thumb running along her jaw and chin and his nose nuzzling lightly against her’s stirring the butterflies in her stomach and the heat much lower. “I want you,” she finally whispers. “All of you. Every part of you and everything that comes with it… I want it all, with you.”

It’s as close to a profession of love as she’s ever come before. She’s perhaps closer to telling him that she loves him now than when she actually said the words to Neal over a decade ago. She thinks she should be afraid— of his answer or of what may change between them, she isn’t sure— but she isn’t.

“I want everything with you, too, Emma. Always.” His use of her name rather than any number of nicknames he has to choose from, and the meaning of his statement, isn’t lost on her.

He kisses her again, like he can’t stay away from her any longer and absolutely needs to have her lips on his. While the last kiss was soft and slow, this one is more passionate and heated as he presses closer to her and laces his hand tighter into her hair. He pulls her gently towards him and she hears his chair scraping against the ground as he scoots forward. Once he’s got her where he wants her, he deepens the kiss, curling his tongue against her bottom lip until she opens up to him. It doesn't take much, the feel of him pressing close to her driving her mad with want.

She’s just about lost her mind when she starts to shift in her seat, planning to move forward and hoist herself up and onto his lap so that she can get closer to him and hopefully sate the heat erupting through her down to her core, until she hears someone behind him clear their throat.

Shit.

“I think it’s about time you and I have a little talk about your intentions with my daughter.” Emma squeezes her hands around the collar of his jacket as her eyes fly open. Thank god she hadn’t actually mounted him…

Killian clears his throat in an attempt to calm himself down before answering Emma’s father, although he still looks completely wrecked and refuses to turn around. “That’s a little old-fashioned even by my standards, and I still pay with doubloons.”

“Yeah, well, I’m leaving,” he says firmly, although she can hear a smile in his voice. “I was coming to give you a hug, but I’m not sure I want one anymore,” he jokes.

She laughs breathlessly as she stands up, moving to her father and giving him a tight hug. “How’s mom feeling?”

“Good, just tired. I’m happy that everyone threw this together, but I feel guilty being away from them, so I'm gonna go back to the hospital.”

“Give her a hug for me?”

“‘Course,” he says, kissing her cheek sweetly, then making a disgusted face and laughing.

Her breathing is still rapid and her heart is still racing as she sits back down next to Killian, so she takes in a big gulp of air and wishes she had more rum.

“Awkward,” she says with a small laugh.

He laughs. And he keeps laughing, and eventually he rests his head against his arm on the table and continues on laughing until no sound is coming out and he’s just a mess of shaking shoulders and teary eyes. At some point, she started laughing too, and anyone who exits Granny’s at this point would probably have the two of them committed.

“We can’t catch a break, love,” he remarks through more chuckles, and she laughs harder still.

Then she has a thought and acts on it so quickly that she can hardly even keep track of it. “Take me upstairs,” she says boldly, desiring not to be interrupted again when all she wants is to feel him on her.

He raises a dramatic brow and cocks his head at her in question, or perhaps seeking confirmation, and asks, “aye?”

She nods, biting her bottom lip in a way that she thinks may be more flirty than she intended before she leans in again and kisses him softly. “Take me upstairs,” she repeats against his mouth.

He stands so quickly that the table shakes and the glasses nearly fall over, and she laughs again. He holds out a hand to her, his smile bright and beaming, and when she takes it, she knows that things between them are shifting and that her life is changing.

She can’t wait.

~~~~

~~~~

Read Chapter 8

A/N: there’s one chapter left!! The next one is..... pure smut. Like, there’s a little plot in there but... it’s smut. So. Stay tuned if you’re into that?

[natusvincere]

Nightmare Square || Marley and Vic

Who: @detectivedreameater and @natusvincere Where: The Bend When: A few weeks ago What: Marley and Vic find out what dreams are made of... literally. Warnings: Allusions to child abuse, Head Injury Mention

Reports of strange activity down in the Bend had been pouring in, and Marley could no longer stand by and let it be written off. Well, sit by, as it were, as she scratched away at files from her desk. Soon, she had to remind herself, she was going to get back into the field soon. She just needed a bit more time to heal, to get better, to control herself. But soon. Still, soon didn’t ever feel like soon enough when she felt like the only cop in the precinct who understood the supernatural nature of the town. Ally was...getting there, but she had almost drawn a gun on Marley at just the mention of the supernatural, so there was still a way to go in regards to that. The only other officer she knew of who knew was Langley, and there was no way in hell she was ever asking him for help, after what had happened at the escape room. 

And so, she’d gone it alone. Probably not the best idea-- definitely not the best idea-- and Anita and Erin would probably kick her ass if they ever found out, but the solution to that was easy: make sure they never found out. She grabbed the pistol from her car and headed out, following the path that had been laid out by the many reports of suspicious activity. It led her behind a building and towards some of the abandoned buildings in the Bend, but so far, she hadn’t spotted anything. Even with her perfect vision, everything seemed pretty normal. She was about ready to give up when she heard a noise and saw a shadow. Marley stiffened and stood stock still for a moment, before allowing her body to turn invisible, creeping along towards the shadow. Turned the corner and-- “Vic?” Marley groaned, rolling her eyes as she became visible again. “What’re you doing out here?”

 Tips these days were far and few between.  There were phases of time when Vic would be gushing with information on vampire clans, pouring them out to hunters just as quick as she’d pour them a drink.  But lately was not one of those times.  Instead, there was a lull, making her desperate to scope out any lead she even had an inkling about, just to get some action in her life.  Things had been so mundane lately that she was actually considering attempting one of those video games she had been arguing with the internet about.  No, she couldn’t have that. 

The bend was a common location for these types of tips, and it was an area of town she was quite familiar with after doing this sort of work for so long.

She had been wandering around a few alleyways, traipsing in and out to find any sense of the vampires she’d heard the miniscule lead about.  She jumped, just slightly, when she heard her name, whipping around to face the culprit and ready to strike, if necessary.  Instead, she was met with a familiar face, and she let her guard down.  “Marley”, she said, leaning on her hip and pursing her lips.  “I could ask you the same thing.” It was a ridiculous thing to say, of course- it was Marley’s job to be in a place like this- to investigate the very filth that Vic wished to eradicate.  She suddenly realized she could hear music in the background- harp, that sounded strikingly similar to what Lyra used to play her.  It made her stomach turn.  “Since when are they piping music into the bend?”, she wondered, swallowing.

 “I’m a cop, Vic,” Marley answered sarcastically, “thought you knew that already?” She’d known Vic for a while now-- both as an acquaintance and, well, in other more intimate ways-- but she hadn’t seen her recently. It was strange running into her here and now, but this town had thrown stranger things at her. She paused when Vic said she heard music and tried to listen, but all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She scrunched her nose. “I don’t think the bend has that budget quite yet.” An idea struck her, and her face lit up. “What do you say we go check it out together? Whatever’s there, I’m betting it’ll be a fun time for both of us.” A grin. “Like old times! Not that we ever did anything like this before, but it’s been a minute since I’ve seen you, and we both like dishing out what people have coming to them, right?”

 Vic rolled her eyes at Marley, though the suppression of a smile was harder in the company of someone she was comfortable with than she would like to admit.  She leaned back against the brick wall in an effort to stave off the feeling, crossing her arms in front of her.  Marley clearly  needed to get her hearing checked, and Vic furrowed her eyebrows at her.  “Your ears are failing in your old age”, she accused, leaning her neck around to locate the hidden speaker.  The music was haunting her, distracting and ever present.  Marley’s idea, and excitement, by extension, as amusing as it was surprising, and it was a welcome distraction. Vic stood up straighter at the prospect of someone to scope out the area with. It might be fun to catch up, and scoping out the area  with someone as skilled and experienced as Marley would be a piece of cake.  “Fine”, she said, pushing off the wall at the same time as she pushed another smile away.  “So, where to first, cop?” she asked, emphasizing the last word playfully.

 “Whatever, grandma,” Marley said, though she was aware that Vic had never actually told her her real age. “My ears are fine.” Even though they were ringing right now, she wasn’t about to admit that outloud. Her face lit up, though, when Vic agreed to her terms, and she practically bounced on her toes in excitement. It’d been so long since she’d investigated something with someone, considering she was benched at work. “I knew you’d agree!” she grinned, pulling out her glock and giving a sweeping ‘follow me’ gesture. “Show me where this sound you’re hearing is coming from, miss super hearing, and we’ll go from there, yeah?” She waved her gun slightly, letting her know that she was prepared for whatever was coming. “I came here for an investigation into strange activity, so, you know--” she nodded, “--just in case.”

 Pushing her hands into her back pockets, Vic let out a scoff, but followed along with Marley all the same. “What strange activity?”, she wondered, her eyes trained on the ground in front of them as they walked.  She shook her head, trying to concentrate on the sound to better locate where it was coming from, and grabbed Marley’s wrist to lead her to where she was sure it was coming from.  It didn’t seem to be getting any louder though, so she let out another frustrated scoff and pulled her in another direction, only to find the same problem. “I… I can’t figure this shit out”, she said, the distant harp sounding more hauntingly familiar with each passing moment.  “It’s like… it feels like it’s everywhere, ...I can’t locate a source”.  Behind Marley, a man slowly walking by caught her attention, and the sight of him shocked her.  If she didn’t know any better, she’d be sure it was her father. She looked at Marley, and then back at the man, but he was gone, replaced instead by a simple housecat. “There’s something fucked up going on”, she said, locking eyes with Marley again.  “I think I’m going batshit”.

 Marley let Vic drag her around, searching for her mysterious noise. She watched her closely as they headed around corners and through the back alleys. “Reports of people seeing things, stranger than usual things. Things that shouldn’t be possible, according to laws of physics,” she explained, “hey, you okay?” But before she could get the full sentence out Vic was turning and locking eyes with her-- something Marley hated when it wasn’t on her terms, her eyes were dangerous, even to a vampire-- and cursing about going crazy. “Hey, woah, slow down, what‘re you talking about? No source? It’s gotta have a source, Vic, that’s how sound works. Are you sure your super special vamp hearing isn’t going bad or something?” She watched Vic glance behind her and turned her head to see what she’d been looking at, but only found a cat. However, when she turned back around to face Vic, a familiar, bloody face greeted her and Marley jumped. “I think I’m going batshit,” Roland said and Marley scrambled away, shaking her head and-- it was just Vic again. “What the--” Was she seeing things? No, that wasn’t possible. She was the mara, she was immune to magically induced hallucinations. “Okay, something really weird is going on here and I’m not happy about it.”

 “Sounds like a regular day in the bend to me”, Vic breathed out, now on alert and worried her father might pop up out of the shadows again.  “Don’t people come here looking for trouble?” She shook her head at Marley, annoyed.  She wasn’t listening.  “No!  My fucking cursed hearing isn’t going bad.  It doesn’t work like that. It’s everywhere, Marley.  It’s not getting any louder or quieter, it just is”.  She stared at Marley, tilting her head in confusion at her reaction.  Was she seeing things too, then?  Her eyes glanced up toward the sky above them, and she could hear a faint, familiar giggle on top of the harp.  “This is freaking me out.  I’m getting out of here.  Are you coming, or are you stupid?”  Without waiting for an answer, Vic grabbed Marley by the wrist again pulling her down the alley they were standing in. The alley, which was before no longer than about 10 feet, now seemed to stretch out forever, and no matter how much they walked, it never seemed to end.  She stopped, turning around, only to see the alley endless stretching the other way too.  Dropping Marley’s wrist, she ran toward the end of the alley, pumping her legs with as much force as she could, but to no avail.  “What the fuck”, she said, turning around to Marley with wide eyes.  Somehow, they were still right next to one another.

 Too much was happening again and Marley was having a hard time following Vic’s train of thought. Her head was spinning, as Vic grabbed her wrist and started yanking her down the alley. But it stretched out, forever and ever and Marley felt panic swell inside her chest, her heart plummeting into the pit of her stomach. For a moment, the alley looked like that house. Peeling paint, sludge on the ground, claw marks dragged across the walls. Vic was running, and she’d left Marley alone. “Wait!” she shouted, reaching out for her, but then Vic was gone, and Marley was alone. Shadows danced in and out of her vision and she backed away, holding her gun up. “Show yourself!” she shouted, twisting in circles. “I know what you are! I-I’m not afraid of you anymore!” A noise to her left. Marley twisted, ready to pull the trigger, barrel pointed directly at her assailants face, but-- it was Vic again. Marley jumped. “You left!” she snapped, “you just-- where did you come from? What’s going on?” It was like a bad nightmare, but the only nightmare here was supposed to be Marley. “We need to get out of here. Now.”

 As soon as they appeared next to each other again, Marley was holding a gun out to Vic’s face.  On instinct she flinched back, but just barely.  Her eyes met the barrel of the gun, and starred it down, daring it to go off.  “You’re tweaking out on me, Stryder.”  She took her hand and rested it atop the gun, lowering it down so it was no longer settled between them.  “No shit.  But doing that the conventional way doesn’t seem very likely right now”, she said, indicting to either side of the alley.  The harp music began to ring louder and louder in her ears, as did the taunting giggles. She didn’t want to think about this, about her, about any of that nonsense.  “Jösses, shut up!”,  she screamed at the sky, covering her ears.  The sound from her shout, strangely, took on a visual form, and it shot up toward the sky above them.  Suddenly, and without warning, clouds from up above came toppling down toward them, and something in Vic’s gut just knew they weren’t soft and fluffy.  “Run!” she said, not bothering to look behind her and see if Marley was following.  “What the fuck is going on, Marley?  What kind of backwards ass shit were you investigating out here?”

 Marley didn’t resist as Vic lifted a hand and pushed the gun from her face, but she did keep a firm grip on her firearm. Something was happening here and she wasn’t taking any chances. “I’m not tweaking,” she snapped, but something in the back of her mind made her wonder if maybe she was, maybe it was her mind finally breaking. But that wasn’t possible, because Vic was experiencing it, too, and Marley knew it wasn’t her doing it. For once. “Hey, calm down. Vic--” Marley started, but then Vic was shouting at her to run and taking off. Her shout was tangible and Marley looked, just barely managing to leap out of the way when a chunk of something fell right where they’d been standing. “Vic!” Marley called again, scrambling to stand up. “Wait!” If they just ran wildly, they were going to get lost. Whatever was happening, it was creating a maze for them. She could feel it, as the alleyway turned into the hallway she’d nearly forgotten about. She’d thought she was over that. She wanted to be over that. Her hands shook and she began to sweat. “Vic?” she called out, as darkness enveloped the alleyway, pulling her away from the solace of her companion. She was alone in that house again and the skittering sound that had haunted her for months after echoed around her. “No,” she grunted. “No! I’m not afraid of you anymore!” And without thinking, she lifted her gun and fired.

 It took her longer than Vic would have liked to realize, but Marley was apparently not down with the idea of running away from their problems.  She stopped suddenly and whipped around, ready to scold her for not listening, but she was met with a wall that she was sure hadn’t been there before.  She whipped around again, facing where she had just come from, only to be met with another suddenly appearing wall.  “Fuck!”, she yelled, kicking one of the walls that now surrounded her. Suddenly, the harp like music that she’d been hearing sounded louder than ever, and when she turned around again, she was met with a sight that made her heart rise to her throat.  It was Lyra, sitting there and playing the nyckleharpa, as if it were 1570s Sweden and not present day White Crest.  Tears rose to her eyes, but she suddenly felt like she couldn’t breath, like the 4 walls around them were closing in and there was no way out.  The more Vic looked at Lyra’s face, the less she looked like her- her face morphed from a calm, gentle smile to a sickeningly sinister one, one that threatened to overtake her whole face if it grew any wider.  “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real”, she repeated, turning away from fake Lyra and covering her ears, desperate not to hear anymore.  A loud crash shook her out of her thoughts and she looked behind her, only to find one of the four walls shattering in front of her, Marley’s bullet whipping by her face mere seconds later.  She took a moment to catch her breath, but quickly ran close to Marley again, happy to be rid of dream Lyra. “We need to stick together”, she said, the only hint of an apology that would be leaving her lips.  “To...to find a way out of whatever this is”.

 The sound of glass shattering signaled that Marley had hit something, but it certainly wasn’t a something that she’d expected or been aiming at. Vic was running back towards her, and the fear on her own face made Marley realize that what they were seeing were two different things. Which meant-- “Magic,” she exhaled. “Whatever’s doing this is magic. And, well, by the looks of it, fucking powerful.” She blinked, trying to reset herself. She scrubbed her hand across her eyes, removing her sunglasses all together. If they were going to get through this, then they needed all their concentration. She even holstered her gun, because what good was a gun against magic? “What did it show you?” she asked, then, looking Vic square in the eyes. It might’ve been nighttime, the element both of them thrived in-- but they were left vulnerable here. Even Marley was sure magic could do her in at night. She’d always been warned against magic, especially those powerful enough to manipulate the mind.

 “Fucking bullshit town”, Vic muttered under her breath, disgusted that Marley’s explanation of what was going on seemed just about as viable as any, at this point.  She shook her head at Marley’s question, not willing to divulge what she saw to anyone, ever.  Marley knew she didn’t do feelings, she would do well now to know not to press.  “Something from my past”, was all she offered, shuttering as the image of Lyra with that sickening, wide grin flashed into her mind again.  “What about you?”, she asked.  She looked around them, their surroundings still morphing and warping as time passed, though they seemed to be more obvious about it now that they were aware that something was up.  “None of this makes sense, it’s all so...random and irrational.   Are we at the hands of some fucked up, magic child?”

 Vic was about as forthcoming as Marley assumed she would be. Sighing, she rubbed a hand across her face. “A nightmare,” she mumbled, “and also a...recent thing that happened.” Some people would describe it as a “traumatic experience” but Marley certainly wasn’t going to use those words. At least not with Vic. She gave a hollow chuckle. “Funny,” she said, eyeing their surroundings. “But no. I think it’s...drawing its inspiration from us. Whatever it is. I don’t think it’s a person, though. Probably some sort of...magic pocket or something. They occur around the town quite a bit, but never this, well-- big. Or often.” Or powerful. This pocket felt as if it might swallow Marley whole. She tried to steady her breath. “I think we need to...stop feeding it. If it has nothing to draw from, the illusions might just, go away. Only problem is, I’m not sure how to cease brain function. At least, you know,” she gave a snigger, “for myself.” 

 Vic eyed Marley suspiciously, though she couldn’t expect her to elaborate, not when Vic was so anti-sharing during their time together.  It was frustrating that she had a sense of concern about whatever might be going on with Marley, and she buried it, for the sake of solving their current problem.  She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, even though she knew Marley was probably right.  “Are these magic pockets sentient?  Because it seems to know what the fuck it’s doing, and it’s got a sick sense of humor.”  As if on cue, flower petals began to flutter around both of them, dancing in rhythm with each other as they fell from the sky.  She let out a frustrated breath as one landed on the bridge of her nose, and she flicked it away with specific determination and annoyance.  “But if you stir up nightmares, wouldn’t logic say that you can defeat them as well?”, she wondered aloud, doing a bad job at hiding her approving smirk at Marley’s bad joke.  “Okay, so like… a trance?”  That, she could do.  She had an easy enough time clearing her mind when she went into trances during the day, but would Marley be able to do the same?  “I can clear my mind in a fucking snap, but what are we gonna do about you?”

 “I don’t think sentient is the right word, but--” Marley ground her teeth, shrugged, “something like that. It’s at least intelligent or, maybe just playing off our minds. Mental magic is a thing, I’m pretty sure.” She really needed to learn more about magic, didn’t she? The thought dissipated quickly, because they had more important things to focus on. Like getting out of this nightmare. It felt a little like cosmic karma when she thought of it like that. She looked up as the petals began to rain down, catching one in her palm. It felt so real. That was the problem, wasn’t it? This shit was real. It wasn’t just their imagination. It was like the pizza downtown, or the fish raining down. The sticky road in the Bend. Marley crushed the petal in her palm. A smirk grew on her face, wide and joyful. “Scratch that,” she said, turning to look at Vic. She pulled her gun back out and loaded it, then held it out to Vic as she pulled another from her boot. “Think as hard as you can about one thing. I don’t just stir up nightmares, Vic, I manifest them. I make them real because I draw from someone’s memory for them. That’s what this place is doing.” She opened her palm to show her the crushed petal. “It’s making them real, the more we think about them. And if something’s real, well,” she gestured to their weapons, “something can be destroyed.”

 Vic studied Marley’s face, watching a myriad of emotions pass through, each stronger than the last.  Whatever she was thinking about, it seemed to be working out a way to get them out of this mess, and she found herself taking solace in the triumphant smirk presented to her.  But then, there was the gun, which might as well have been shoved into her hands.  She held it like it was some sort of germ, one that she wished to be rid of.  Of course she knew how to fire one, thanks to countless self-defense courses she’d put herself through over the years- but for some reason, she could never bring herself to buy one of her own.  There was something that felt wrong about holding it- it felt too real.  She didn’t do horrible things, she just set it up so that other people could. Deep in her mind, where memories of her past mixed and swelled and begged to come pouring out, she worried that if she allowed herself to own one, maybe she’d be the one doing the horrible things after all.  

She shook her head.  It was a waste of time to dwell on maybes and worries and what-ifs.  Especially now and here.   She licked her lips as she listened to Marley’s advice, and closed her eyes. Think, think think.  Her fiance, Lyra, a tutor, a flash of her mother’s face, Winnie, Morgan, angry with her after they tried to garden, her tiny, paint stained fingers, blurred away by tears as a booming voice bellowed from behind her… nothing was sticking.  Whatever she had to think of, Marley was going to see, and know, and ask bullshit questions about things that didn’t matter anymore.  She shook her head again, lowering her gun and looking at Marley.  “It’ll be enough if you do it, I think.  You destroy your nightmares, and we’ll both be out of here.  I’m not that afraid of anything that it gives me nightmares, so…” Her words were shaky and uneven, and even the dullest stranger could have sensed the insincerity in them.  

 Marley watched Vic’s face closely and understood the feeling she was going through. Debating whether or not to expose the truth about the nightmares that had once plagued her. The truth was that neither of them could dream anymore, let alone have nightmares. But for Vic, that didn’t mean that she didn’t used to have them, however long ago. Marley had experienced nightmares once in her life, she didn’t have much to draw on. Not anymore. She didn’t understand the feelings dreams and nightmares brought with them like other people did. She never could. It was another thing her species had taken from her. How strange, to feed from something you could never truly understand. She furrowed her brow at Vic. “You can’t lie to me,” she said simply, frowning. “Thought you knew that by now.” She looked around them as the world cycled through different iterations of itself. Hallways, closed doors, large rooms. They needed to work fast if they wanted to get out of here. She looked back at Vic with narrower eyes. 

“I’ve never had a nightmare before,” she stated, a simple fact, “whatever this is, is drawing on my subconscious. I can’t control that. But it’s drawing on your nightmares. From when you were human. I know that was like, what, at least a few decades? Maybe a century?” She shifted, facing Vic fully. “But you had them. You can still remember them. So, fucking feed the entity or I’m gonna go invisible and leave you behind.” She couldn’t actually do that, but she figured she got the point across.

 “I’m not ly-”, Vic started, but the look on Marley’s face told her to not even try.  As many times as she had successfully avoided discussing feelings and their past and all that bullshit with Marley, it was becoming abundantly clear that after today, she would no longer be afforded that privacy.  Time to find another fuck buddy.  She let out a low sigh, pressing her lips together and staring Marley down.  This was ridiculous.  She was not about to relive her childhood in front of Marley- not when she had spent years perfecting the art of ignoring them all together.  But then Marley’s threat made her heart skip a bit- there’s no way she could bear being here any longer- especially not alone.  With a frustrated grunt, she closed her eyes, focusing on whatever decided to come up first.

She looked down at her hands, but they weren’t her worn, grown up ones.  No, the ones she saw now were tiny and undamaged...and covered in paint.  So was her pretty dress, but it didn’t look ruined to her.  It stood out, now, bright and blue and splotched all over, in a way that might make people pay attention and tell her how beautiful she looked.  Next to her no longer stood Marley, but her tutor- looking cross and annoyed, like she did most mornings.  But then the door slammed open, causing her to jump back with a start.  And there her father stood- tall and loud and boiling over with disappointment and shame.  Shame that she wasn’t good enough, that she wasn’t a boy, that she was too loud, too messy, too clumsy.  Too Victoria. He bound toward her, his stride and pace matching the monsters she read about in her books late at night.  Though she stared him down, forcing her face to look as dark and angry as his, her breath was quickening and her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.  No, no, no.  This was not real.  He died- a long time ago.  She had watched the service for him from afar- covering her face and ignoring the conflicting feelings that fought each other in her chest.  Looking down at her hand, she noticed it was no longer that of a child, but her normal, adult hand again.  She lifted the gun up, studying it, and after a quick glance at Marley (who was suddenly back where she belonged), she held it toward him.  It was the first time she’d seen him stop in his tracks.  Without dwelling on it any longer, she felt her finger pull the trigger, and the man in front of her disappeared into a simple tuft of smoke, dissolving into the atmosphere as if he was never there to begin with. 

Vic shoved the gun back into Marley’s hands, hoping the other woman wouldn’t notice her sweaty palms, or the way her breathing still hadn’t quite settled down.  “Happy now?” she asked angrily, as if Marley had been the one to put them here in the first place.

 Marley watched with fascination as Vic’s nightmare began to unfold in front of her. It was a spectacle, for sure, to see a vampire’s nightmare. Fear gazing never gave the same satisfaction, but this was-- strangely more fulfilling, despite her not even choosing to feed off the fear. The alleyway melted and gave way to a room, with a desk, and some supplies, a chalkboard. Marley didn’t recognize it at first, but it seemed to be some sort of educational room. There was a woman standing beside Vic, who was staring down at her hands in awe. A tutor? A nanny, perhaps? Some sort of caretaker. Stood nearby, a frown on their face. She was angry at Vic. But not as angry as the man who burst into the room. He seemed to appear out of nowhere and Marley watched him with wide eyes. He was...her father, she supposed. She stepped aside as Vic finally worked up the courage to confront the nightmare. She felt the world changing around them. It was already melting away. The scittering in the back of Marley’s mind was dissipating. She turned her gaze back to VIc.

The gunshot echoed in the empty alleyway.

They were back in the real world, the nightmare they’d been stuck in just a tiny shimmer falling to the ground around them like confetti. She took the gun when it was handed to her, staring at Vic. She didn’t quite comprehend what she’d just witnessed. She’d seen many a nightmare, but Marley fed from adults only. Something like this only lived inside her own memories. She blinked them away and holstered the gun after flipping on the safety. “I don't particularly enjoy watching you suffer, no,” was all she said, before grabbing her arm and walking them out of the alleyway. She wasn’t sure there was much else to say. What she’d seen was a part of Vic she was sure she’d never wanted anyone to know. Did Marley care to ask her about it? A year ago, the answer was no. Maybe even a few months ago. But now? “I’m sorry,” she muttered, not looking at her. “That you suffered like that.”

 The fake world flitted away, but Vic still felt it hard to maintain the rapid breathing that was overtaking her lungs.  None of that had been real- not the fake Lyra, the fake music, or her fake Father.  It was weakness, then, that made the sight of them stir so many emotions.  She let herself be pulled out of the alleyway, still staring at the spot they left as if it would all appear again, as if the nightmare weren’t over.  But the longer they were in the real world again, the more secure she felt in it- the sickening dizzy feeling had disappeared with the nightmares. People walked by them as if they had been there the whole time, and noise could be heard from the shops and bars around them.  It was over with. Still, tears filled her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.  And with Marley’s apology, a few did.  She wiped them away harshly with the heel of her palm.  “Stop”, she commanded quietly, shaking her head.  “I don’t want your pity. I don’t want-...”  She ducked her head, letting out a breath, “Everybody suffers.  There’s no use in harping on it”.  She rang her fingers together, picking and pulling at them as she looked back to Marley.  Marley, who didn’t have nightmares herself, but seemed to be faced with anxieties of her own in their shared nightmare land.  “It was clear I wasn’t the only one seeing things back there.”  She shouldn’t care about Marley, but still, her questions blurted out.  “Is something going on with you? Are you going to be okay?”

 “It’s not pity,” Marley muttered back, but she knew why Vic said it that way. Recognized the same defensive mechanisms in her that she built in herself and pretended were normal and natural. She hadn’t suffered the way Vic had. The way so many others did. Her suffering was because she’d been born a monster-- Vic had been made one. At least they could relate there. She sighed, furrowing her brow. “Suffering is universal,” Marley recited, as if from a textbook, “our experience of it is not.” She let go of Vic’s arm and shoved her hands in her pockets. “With me? No. That was just--” she gave a half shrug, “some old shit.” And it was, wasn’t it? It had to be. She removed her sunglasses from her pocket and put them back on. There were other people around now. “I’m always fine, anyway.” 

 Vic blinked away the last of the tears and looked away, crossing her arms over her chest.  Marley didn’t want to talk about whatever she had experienced, and she wouldn’t push her on it, despite the dull ache to wonder aloud and learn more about what had scared the unscareable. There was a long moment where neither of them said anything, but then Vic let herself turn back to Marley, her face much harsher than when they first met up.  “Do you want to get out of here?  Go back to my place and… forget, about whatever that was.”  She blinked, always hyper aware of the likelihood of rejection; always determined to stop it before it happened.  “Of course, you could always stay here and play good cop like you do. I’m sure you’re just dying to stop something like that from happening to anyone else”.

Marley couldn’t help but laugh. “If you think I’m the ‘good cop’ in any scenario, then you don’t know me as well as I thought you might.” She holstered her gun and looked around, then let her gaze fall back on Vic. Maybe she should have stayed here, figured out what was going on, but she really didn’t want to. And maybe she should have pressed Vic more about what they’d both just witnessed, but she also didn’t want to do that. No, she wanted to go back to Vic’s place, and get drunk and probably fuck around and hopefully forget about everything that had happened here. Her usual Saturday night. She reached out to brush a bit of dust from Vic’s shoulder, then tapped her chest, leaving her hand there a moment. “Your place it is,” was all she said.

[alluremin]

Fair Game

pairing: park jimin | reader

genre: carnival au, crytid-ish hunter au| crack turned horror (?)

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of blood

premise:  “...I know our lives are technically in danger, but nothing ever happens in this town, so I’m pretty freaking pumped.”

word count: 4.4k

a/n: this is my story for @foreverpark​‘s halloween writing challenge! i had a lot of fun writing this!! (i know i said this was going to be posted yesterday, please forgive me. we all know that i’m wildly inconsistent. and yes i’m also aware that halloween has long since passed)(the dialogue prompt has been adjusted slightly to fit the situation)

The screams of children fill your head as you stare absentmindedly into space. The screeching of rubber bumpers colliding with one another do nothing to pull you out of your reverie. You feel like you’re living in a never ending loop of torturous proportion.

Sweat starts to trickle down the back of your neck as the sun continues to sink closer to the horizon. You can’t even be bothered to fix the umbrella or to adjust your bun turned bird’s nest higher on your head. It wasn’t until you feel a tap on your shoulder that you finally came back down to Earth. 

“You’re off the clock for the day!” Peyton’s chipper voice squeals in your ear. It’s not that you don’t like the girl, but she was always so happy to be at work and you had a hard time understanding that. After the day you’ve had, all you can do is offer a weak smile and a pat on her shoulder as you shuffle off toward the main office.

You had been working at this god forsaken carnival since you were sixteen. Sure, the extra income is nice, but now that you’re twenty one and on the verge of graduating from college; you dread going home every summer. Not to mention, there was always something foreboding about carnivals that made your skin crawl. You worked nights for one summer and have never done it since. The memories of that summer inexplicably make your skin crawl. There was just something about when the lights would go out on the rides that made you wish you could leave and never come.

The last thing you wanted to do, however, was risk missing out on an opportunity for work. You were already swimming in student loans, so it wasn’t ideal to turn down work when the opportunity presented itself. You constantly remind yourself that there were only a few more weeks left of summer, then you could finish your final year, graduate, and find a job that was actually fit for an adult. 

As you collect your stuff from the back office, you can feel your phone vibrating in your back pocket. The thought of having to speak to anybody right now made your brain turn to putty, so you ignore it. En route to your car, however, you can feel it go off at least 12 more times, only adding to your irritability. Ripping your phone out of your pocket, you glare at the screen. In this very moment, you decide that you’re going to strangle your friends. Your eyes roll almost voluntarily as you scroll through the messages.

You lock your phone and throw it into the passenger seat before dropping your head to your steering wheel. The problem with this whole situation is that Jungkook knew none of you would say no to him. The thought of having to go home, shower, then get back in your car to make the journey to Jungkook’s house was exhausting in and of itself, let alone having to actually do any of those things. 

Quickly into your freshman year of college, you managed to make an amazing group of friends. You became close with the boy across the hall and his suitemates. Jimin was extremely sweet, and more often than not, he left for his classes around the same time that you did. Not only that, but you often ate together and did laundry together. Before you left for Christmas break, he pulled you aside and asked you out in the cheesiest manner possible; under a mistletoe. You couldn’t possibly deny him when he looked that cute.

It wasn’t long before he would invite you across the hall to hang out with him, and his suitemates, Yoongi and Seokjin. They were both sophomores at the time, you and Jimin both freshmen. The four of you fell into the steady rhythm of having meals together, hanging out, and crying over finals (that last one was mostly just you). 

Last year, you all moved into the same townhouse together. It was great and your only complaint was the Jimin never slept in his own bedroom, but his body heat wrapped around you made him easy to forgive. One night, you all were hanging out in the rec center, playing your weekly game of ping-pong when a bright eyed kid walked in and sat in the corner by himself. 

At first, you all ignored him, thinking he was waiting for someone, but when some time passed and he was just playing with his fingernails, the four of you decided to ask him to play ping pong with you. You learned that his name was Jungkook, he hated his roommates, he was a freshman, and he was extremely good at ping pong. Needless to say, he quickly became a member of your makeshift family and you found a use for Jimin’s empty bedroom.

Strangely enough, his hometown was close to your own, so there was no break in any of your routines when summer hit. Jimin spent the majority of his summer with you at your childhood home and Yoongi and Seokjin traveled over every few weekends to hang out with the three of you.

When you push open your car door, you’re met with the view of your boyfriend coming out the front door to meet you. He could likely tell by your lack of responses to the group chat that you were having a long day, to say the least. Instead of attempting to make conversation, Jimin simply wraps his arms around your shoulders and holds you. You don’t fight him off.

“Jimin, I’m so sweaty,” you whine into his shoulder.

“Don’t care, I missed you.” He kisses the crown of your head before he releases you and looks you in the eyes. The small smile on his lips brings one to your own. 

“I need to shower before we go to Guk’s. I feel absolutely disgusting.”

“Okay, I’m going to help your mom put away groceries! She just got home a couple minutes ago.” Jimin kisses the tip of your nose before going into the kitchen. It’s no wonder she likes him more than you or your siblings.

After a shower and a short breakdown, you and Jimin are on your way to Jungkook’s house. You could only hope that his parents were expecting all of you there to, once again, scheme about some ridiculous plan Jungkook had to catch another cryptid he found on the internet. 

Since this summer started, there have been various occasions that Jungkook believed a ghoul, ghost, or mysterious creature had been located in the area and forced you and your friends to go out and look. Big surprise, you all have yet to anything. 

Upon entering his house, Jungkook greets you and Jimin at the door with a smile on his face, and Yoongi and Seokjin wave at you from the couch in the living room. 

“Where are you parents, Guk?” You ask.

“Date night. They’re really taking advantage of this empty-nester lifestyle,” he giggles to nobody in particular while leading you and Jimin into the living room.

You audibly gasp at the sight before you. Night-vision goggles, EMF detectors, a go-pro, and a large pile of black clothes sit in a pile on his living room floor.

“Don’t you have student loans to pay?” Jimin laughs as he crouches to the floor, staring at Jungkook in question.

“Yes, but if we’re going to do this, we’re going to do this right! I’m also using the excuse that I’m treating myself the only way I know how,” Jungkook picks up the go-pro that sat on the floor and grins at you. You can’t help but stare blankly at him.

“You broke Y/N with your crazy, Guk,” Yoongi says monotonously, not looking up from his phone. 

“Hey, I don’t think he’s crazy. I’m just blown away at your commitment, honestly.” You sidestep Jimin, who was sitting on the floor fishing through the sea of black clothes, and ruffle Guk’s hair. If you hadn’t known Jungkook, you truly would’ve believed exactly what Yoongi had just said. Among other things, this was just one of his hobbies and all of you accepted it. Honestly, cryptid hunting gave you all an excuse to hang out and play around in the woods or abandoned buildings and act like stupid teenagers again.

“Okay everybody gather around, it’s time to debrief!” Jungook announces to the room. 

“We’re all sitting right here!” Seokjin waves his arms overdramatically at Jungkook. 

“I just wanted your attention and now that I have it, let’s get started.”

Yoongi sits forward at this and tries to look interested, but you could tell that he was dreading going out tonight. You stand behind where he was sitting on the couch and squeeze his shoulders while Jungkook started his rant.

“Okay, so, today I was scrolling through one of my blogs… you know the one that I track all of the happenings in the cryptid hunting world. Next thing I know, I get a message from somebody with a link to a post somebody made about a Yowie that was spotted not far from where Y/N lives! So-”

“Hey Jungkook, I hate to interrupt your speech, but can you please tell me what the fuck a Yowie is?” you question him. You could feel Yoongi’s shoulders shake under your arms as he chuckles. 

“Okay so it’s basically bigfoot… but from the Outback... of Australia.” He looks at you in complete seriousness. It’s only a matter of seconds before the rest of you crack up at his confession.

Once you all manage to gain your composure, you notice Jungkook scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment, his cheeks turning a bright pink.

You leave Yoongi’s side and sit on the floor next to Jimin. “Not that I don’t believe in the vast ability of this ‘Yowie’ to travel, but it’s not like we’re in the middle of the Outback, Guk,” you reason with him. He drops unceremoniously to the floor next to you.

“Yeah, I was hoping that you guys wouldn’t think anything of it. You usually just tune me out when I go on my rants then follow me into the woods and throw sticks at each other and stuff.”

“Hey, maybe it’s out there! We don’t know, right?” You smirk at him and a smile returns to his face. “Who knows? Maybe Yowies can swim across the ocean, eh?”

Jimin joins in on your comforting Jungkook, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. “Even if it’s not a Yowie, maybe they saw something else! If there’s anything out there, we can find it,” Jimin assures. 

You turn around to look at Yoongi and Seokjin. Seokjin is trying to figure out how night vision goggles work, looking around the room with them on, his mouth hanging wide open in confusion. Yoongi, on the other hand, was still staring at you incredulously. 

“Right, Yoongi? We’re still going out to find whatever it was?” You raise your eyebrow at him to say something. One thing you knew for a fact was that Yoongi had a soft spot for you and you knew that you could convince him to drop his doubts for the sake of Jungkook’s feelings. 

“Uh, yeah. I’m sure it’ll still be fun even if there’s no way in hell that-” Yoongi stops mid-sentence when he notices your glare. “-we’ll find it if it’s out there, kid.” You look away satisfied. 

“Alright, it’s settled then! Yowies here we come!” You shout excitedly in an attempt to bring up the energy in the room.

“Y/N, what’s gotten into you? By the end of our hunts your face is usually buried in Jimin’s back. Remember that one time you got so scared when Yoongi broke that stick that you-”

“Kim Seokjin, if you finish that sentence, you’re toast. I’m willing to brave the storm if it means we make a new scientific discovery!” You exclaim. Everybody gawks at your false sense of confidence, but if they have any comments, they keep them to themselves. 

“Okay so here’s the game plan…”

The five of you load up in Seokjin’s truck and head toward the place you dreaded most: the carnival. The clock read 1:00 am; Jungkook had insisted that you wait until after midnight because he was sure that every cryptid was probably nocturnal. You tried to explain to him that nocturnal just meant it would be dark outside, but he was set in his ides and you didn’t have the heart to argue with him. Instead, you all made use of the afternoon to watch movies and nap until you had to go out. 

As you’re driving down the barren road, you can’t help but lean onto Jimin and close your eyes again.

“Are you still tired, baby?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I can tell, you move a lot in your sleep.” Jimin kisses the crown of your head and wraps his arms around you body to pull you impossibly closer.

“Hey, no sleeping, we’re on a mission!” Seokjin shouts from the front seat. You groan into Jimin’s neck when Seokjin’s early 2000s playlist blares through the speaker. You can feel Jungkook on your left side roll his body around to “Fergalicious”. You pick your head up and give up on getting any more sleep. 

Only 5 more minutes pass before you pull into the parking lot in front of the fairgrounds. In all honesty, there was something about the way the attractions look in the dark without their lights on that brings goosebumps to the surface of your skin. They look incriminating, hauntingly abandoned by the carnival goers for the day, completely alone for the night. 

Since the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped drastically. You were in an oversized black hoodie Jungkook forced you to wear (for stealth) and your athletic shorts. Maybe you’re starting to let your nerves get the best of you, but the second you step out of the car, the wind begins to pick up, almost as if it’s greeting you, or warning you. 

You cling to Jimin’s arm, not only because you love his attention, but also due to your nerves. You try to convince yourself that this feeling was normal. Everytime you all went out at night, you do the same thing; you were excited to go out and have fun, but once you got to the location, or “hunting grounds” as Jungkook liked to say, you started to get scared. All of the terrifying, albeit fictitious, facts that Jungkook would tell you about the cryptid in question would creep back into your head. All you could hope was that you never would actually find any of the things he told you about.

You and your friends approach the locked gate at the entrance of the fairgrounds. They turn back to you as you fish a ring of keys out of your pocket. Perks of working at this carnival for the last 5 summers, you guess. 

The heavy padlock falls when you remove the key from it, causing a cloud of dust to puff up from the ground. You drop to pick up the lock when a loud groan echoes somewhere in the distance. It sounds like bending metal, almost. 

“You guys heard that, right?” Jungkook asks while pointing his flashlight down the path between the rides.

“C’mon, Guk don’t start. You know how unreliable these rides are, it’s probably just the Gravitron slowly falling apart.” Yoongi hits Jungkook’s shoulder as the two continue forward. Jimin grabs the underside of your arm to help you stand while Seokjin takes the lock from you hands and hangs it on the fence.

“You okay, babe?” Jimin asks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. The sound just made me jump,” you say shakily. Jimin holds your hand and you trudges forward after your three friends. “Yoongi’s right, these rides are mediocre in structural integrity, at best.”

“I think it’s cute when you get scared on our hunts. You always hold my hand really tight, “ Jimin teases. You nudge his shoulder with your own.

Everybody stops near the Ferris Wheel and Jungkook splits up the equipment. You’re not sure why he hands you an EVP detector; the second the device so much as makes a peep, he knows you’re going to lose you mind. In all honesty, that probably the exact reason behind him giving the device to you. “I didn’t think that Yowie’s could manipulate electromagnetic fields, so why would we need this? They’re just animals, technically… I think.” Your question trails off with your train of thought. 

“Do you think I would risk not catching another entity because I was so focused on the Yowie? C’mon Y/N, I’m not an amateur!” Jungkook jokes but there’s a hint of seriousness in his statement. You throw you hands up in defeat and choose not to question him further. 

“So should we split up and cover the grounds?” Jimin asks. 

“I don’t mean to ruin the vibe we have going here,” Seokjin cuts in before Jungkook can begin to speak, “but this is vaguely reminiscent of Scooby and the gang. Tag yourself, I’m Velma!”

Jungkook turns from Jimin and glares at the older man. “Dude, seriously?”

“What?”

“Now is not the time… but Yoon is Scooby-Doo.” Jungkook smirks at Yoongi. 

“Why am I Scooby, I feel more like Shaggy. You’re Scooby!” Yoongi points to Jungkook.

“Does that make Y/N and I Fred and Daphne by default?” Jimin pipes in.

“So I’m a damsel in distress?”

“Y/N, you’re literally hanging off of my arm right now,” Jimin looks down at you in amusement.

“Okay everybody, reel it back in! I know that you two will at least humor me and try to find some evidence,” Jungkook motions to you and Jimin. “You two on the other hand, won’t. You’ll sneak back to the car when nobody’s watching. I’ll go with you guys.” Jungkook grabs Seokjin and Yoongi by the elbow and pulls them in the opposite direction that you Jimin start to head in. 

“So do you actually believe in all this stuff?” You look up at Jimin.

“I don’t think so. I mean, we’ve never found anything before. At school or here,” Jimin reasons.  

“I guess that makes sense. I like to think that I don’t either, but then I feel so uneasy whenever we go out. Like… there’s gotta be things we haven’t discovered yet, right?”

“Are you alright? You look really pale, sweetheart?” Jimin grabs you by the shoulders and slide his hands up to you cheeks. 

“Yeah, I think so. I’ve just never felt this anxious before.” You look him in the eyes when you feel another strong breeze whip across the right side of you body. Another deep groan echoes throughout the grounds and all of your hair stands on end. Jimin pulls you into his side and spins the two of you around with his flashlight in hand.

A beeping noise meets you ears, growing in volume. You recognize that it’s coming from your back pocket. With shaking hands, you reach behind you and pull the EVP detector out. The lights on top of the device started to flash, the meter in the center rising with the noise it was emitting. 

“Is it supposed to do that?” Jimin asks you while keeping his attention on your surroundings. 

“I don’t-”

You don’t finish your sentence. 

Suddenly, every light in the entire carnival come to life. Animatronic attractions and music from the booths blare to life. The music rises to a decibel that causes both you and Jimin to cover your ears. Once the ear splitting tunes lower back down to a bearable level, Jimin grabs your hand and you two run in the direction that you came from, hoping that you run into your friends on the way.

After you find yourself in front of the Ferris Wheel, you hear Jungkook screaming out for you and Jimin. Spotting him to your right, you run in his direction; toward the fun house.

Once you two arrive at the backdoor, Jungkook pulls you inside and you see Seokjin and Yoongi crouching in the corner trying to catch their breath.

“Alright, what the fuck is happening right now?” Jimin yells.

“There’s something here, I don’t know what it is! We heard a loud sound like the one we’d heard when we first got here, then everything turned on. It felt like we were being watched...are still being watched,” Jungkook trails off and leans against the wall. You can see the terror and confusion in everybody’s eyes and you’re sure your own match theirs. 

“Y/N, please tell me there’s an explanation. Somebody knows we broke in and are trying to scare us off?” Seokjin ran his fingers through his hair out of anxiousness.

“The only way to turn on all of the attractions at the same is a master key in the control building, otherwise they all have to be turned on individually, also with specific keys.”

“Who has keys?” He asks you.

“Three people. The city has one, the manager has one… and I have one.”

“Okay so maybe somebody from the city, or the manager?”

“I don’t know about the city, but we were only here for 15 minutes before this all happened and the likelihood of somebody making it from City Hall all the way out here in that time is impossible. The manager left town for the weekend on a camping trip with his family…” You trails off when the severity of the situation hit you, so you sink to the ground and hold your head in your hands.

“You’re not doing it Y/N, are you? You said it yourself, you have a key!” Jungkook points an accusing finger at you. 

“Jungkook, I’ve been terrified since the moment I got here, of course I didn’t! Do you honestly think I’d risk us getting arrested for a good joke?!” You throw your hands out in front of you as you yell.

“...I know our lives are technically in danger, but nothing ever happens in this town, so I’m pretty freaking pumped.”

All of you start to yell at Jungkook for his comment when you feel the ground beneath you become uneven. The funhouse is tipping.

“Everybody shut up!” Yoongi yells as he stands. Another bang and the flimsy building tips again. “Holy shit, everybody get out!”

You all file out the door you came through and run toward the gate. Only when you turn your head do you realize you’ve made a huge mistake. In front of the funhouse, a giant figure, almost appearing as if it’s made of mist, turns toward the sound of your running feet. Yoongi notices your petrified figure in front of his and he grabs you as he runs past, forcing you to break your gaze from the creature and run for your life. 

You’re unsure why you thought you would be capable of outrunning whatever that thing is, but as you reach for Jimin’s hand, you feel as if your body becomes frozen in place before everything goes dark.

The sun peaks over the horizon as your blurry vision returns to you. Jimin’s hand is still in yours. You manage to sit up with a groan and your ears ring as you take in the display around you. Your friends surround you on the ground and in a frenzy, you make your way around to each of them, checking for a pulse. The tears stream down your face in relief when you confirm that everybody’s alive. 

When you touch his wrist, Jimin stirs and meets your gaze, sitting up holding his temples. Your legs are covered in scratch marks from where you fell on the gravel path and Jungkook’s hoodie is ripped to the elbow. Your head landed in the grass, but everybody else wasn’t so lucky. Jimin had a gash on his forehead that would probably need stitches, Jungkook and Seokjin had scratches all over their cheeks, and Yoongi had fallen backward, so you couldn’t see what was going on with him. 

Wordlessly, you and Jimin crawl from person to person trying to stir them awake. Seokjin and Jungkook woke relatively easily, but Yoongi took some more coaxing.

“Is everybody okay?” You manage to croak out. Everybody around you groans and Jimin releases a noise resembling “yes”. 

“What the fuck happened?” Yoongi asks as you all begin to stand. Nobody answers his question. Nobody has an answer to his question. 

When you turn around, the area is in disarray. The carts from the Ferris Wheel are either dismantled or completely destroyed, laying on the ground around the giant ride. The funhouse is completely knocked over on top of the game booths that lay behind it. Toys and string lights are thrown everywhere. 

You pull your phone out of you back pocket, the time reading 6:39 am. The screen is completely cracked, but still appears functional, so you carefully unlock it. The only notification the comes across your phone is from the weather channel. ‘Flash Tornado Warning 1:32 am, take cover.’

You show the phone to everybody as you all stand there in disbelief. Everyone is silent, because whatever happened to you last night wasn’t because of a tornado. Tornadoes don’t chase you down. Tornadoes don’t make eye contact with you and change their course. You knew that and so did everybody else. 

Jimin took your shaking hand and Seokjin pulled everybody together, forcing the five of you to walk out toward the gates. Outside the fairground, everything look practically unscathed. Seokjin’s truck was just as you had left it. The flags that separated the parking rows were all still in place. Everything outside the carnival was completely untouched.

Maybe you all are the only ones who know what really happened last night; whatever it was that happened last night. You don't know what you saw or why it happened. Before you crawl into the backseat of the truck, you walk back toward the gate.

“Y/N, don’t go back over there,” Jimin reaches for your hand but you slip out of his grasp and continue forward. 

Without hesitation you reach into your pocket and hang your keys on the gate. You definitely weren’t going in for work later, nor would anybody else. In this moment, you knew that this would be your last time ever stepping foot on these fairgrounds. With what you and your friends experienced here tonight, you predict that the feeling is mutual.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter 1 : Section 5 : In and Out of the Basement

After you helped Trick survive and return home through a breaking and entering to steal antipsychotics for his little brother, Blue begins to remember who he was before Anti wormed his way inside his head. His plans are stopped in mid-thought, however, by the appearance of Anti on the stairs – wearing Dapper’s body like an outfit. All Blue and Red can do until the morning comes is look after Dok and Trick and hope nothing goes wrong…

Trigger warnings: torture, injury, blood, panic attack, major abuse, and abuse between brothers.

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

 Part Five of Chapter One: In and Out of the Basement

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Okay, Anti, I have to ask. Do your "brothers" remember you wearing them?

“Oh, yes.”

He signs slower than Dapper does. His hands move like he is wrapping spider web around his fingers.

“Much of it, anyway… Not the things that I do, so much, but the sensation of me, in their heads… the pounding of blood through a body that no longer answers to you… the warmth of my presence, the cold when I go… Red, when he was still barely mine, once described it as being tarred and feathered from the inside… hot, choking, revolting, til the numbness comes… and then it is pleasant, he said, and he sank back into my power. Afterwards, they’re often sick. Jack made me something of a virus, you understand, I can’t help but make them ill sometimes. You don’t know how unfair it is, to be a curse to everyone around you.”

He pauses, staring at the window, where he thought he saw a flash of something big and black moving.

“But the only one who can’t seem to stomach it is my little Trickshot. The others recover well enough.”

There’s a slight tapping on the window. Anti frowns, considering getting up to investigate.

Anonymous asked: Do you have a favorite brother to wear, Anti? What is it like for you?

Anti pauses, looking at you. He smiles for a second, and then frowns again, thoughtful, or perhaps even sad. He stares out the window.

“There’s a completion to incarnation. You no longer feel so much like you are out of place, accidental, meant for another world. Everything is connected better. Everything is sharper, closer, more real. When I touch things there is an intimacy to it.“

He sighs and puts Dapper’s head in his hands.

“None of them fit quite right, though. Jack never gave me my own flesh. Guess I wasn’t worth it. Dapper fits nice. Even when he was Jameson, he fit nice. He is strong in a sense that is difficult to find, and I like the way I can feel his power, like water dripping through my hands.”

He looks down at the hands, then at the body. “Do you think he’s getting skinny?” he asks, frowning, plucking at the buttons of the dress shirt. “He never seems to change… even things I expect to scar disappear sometimes… he’s resilient, Jack ensured it. His little problem-fixer.”

Anti scowls and hugs himself, rocking slightly on the floor, or maybe it’s Dapper who’s rocking.

“Mine now,” sulks Anti, rubbing his shoulders. “Mine now.”

oasisofgalaxies asked: Anti, what’s your definition of love? What does it feel like for you?

Anti’s eyes narrow. “What does it matter?” he snaps. “As if it means anything! What is love to me? It’s sociology, anthropology, a little dopamine and oxytocin. Humans use it to ensure that other people protect them and their babies when they themselves are indisposed. They will die for it, sometimes, slaves to their own neurohormones.”

He snaps his teeth slightly, turning away.

“To feel it is useless. It makes me warm and not much else. Sometimes it even makes me want to protect them, but this is just the small part of me that is human too, and easily thrown off.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe you should see who it is that's knocking. It could be Jack.

Anti rolls his eyes, scowling at the name, but nevertheless he gets to his feet. Crawling onto the bed, he gets up on Dapper’s knees and opens the window, peering out -

Poe bounces down from atop the window, close to his face, and Anti gasps, recoiling with a look of real shock on his face. Poe squawks indignantly as the window is slammed shut on her, tapping insistently as Anti, clutching at his face, voiceless groaning rising from his chest. He stalks over to the bathroom, abandoning you on the bed, and you hear the water begin to run as he scrubs his face clean, splashing it in his face again and again, gagging and hissing through Dapper’s teeth.

Anonymous asked: Anti, please don't. Dapper has you but sometimes it's not enough. He gets lonely and the bird is his only other company. It never even inside the house! It won't make him sick!

“Disgusting, disgusting, revolting!”

He stalks back out of the bathroom panting and disappears, only to return a minute later with a padlock clutched in his hands. Still hissing, he crawls back onto the bed and sits up, slamming the window out hard enough to scare Poe away, and then drawing it back and locking the window with a snap of the padlock.

“Fucking thing,” snarl his hands as he draws back, sinking back onto the bed, a little paler than he was a minute ago. “Touched my baby! Fuck, I’ve been sleeping in the same bed with him and he - ”

Anti shakes his head, gagging. “Just be glad I don’t kill the fucking thing!”

Anonymous asked: Actually, still curious, why are you wearing Dapper now? Do you have a reason?

This brings a bit of a smile back to Anti’s mouth. Cooling, he sits back on the bed, his silver-blue eyes flashing.

“I heard what your precious Marvin was saying, you know… maybe you should talk to him and try to figure out why I would do this. Unless you’re all too stupid.”

just-a-youtubers-blog asked: Why can't Trickshot stomach it?

“I don’t pretend to understand it. We’ve had some nasty chores to do together, of course, but that’s true for all his brothers. Just weaker than the rest of them, I suppose. I haven’t asked him. He cries when I bring it up. It’s exhausting to watch.”

loganandoli asked: Hey Anti! I just realized that we’ve never really seen your room. Do you mind if you could go and give us a bit of a tour? Your favorite rooms and spots, etc?

“Oh, okay. I can take you around upstairs. There’s not a lot to see, but it’s bigger than our last house.”

He picks the camera up and heads out into the hall, panning around a little so you can see Dapper’s art and the one ruined wall where his art used to be. From there, he turns away from the stairs and back towards his office, unlocking the padlock on the door and pushing his way in.

His room was clearly abandoned for a long time before he moved in, but he’s cleaned it meticulously and then splayed wires and cords all over the room instead. You even see a small satellite dish in the corner, maybe for internet. You sort of doubt Anti’s trying to get cable.

He can’t speak, but he holds a hand up proudly to point at an assortment of computers, phones, radios, and more, buzzing warmly in a corner. Most of them seem to be running programs, a couple computers have youtube pulled up, and the radio is reading the news to him in French.

He pulls open the closet too, revealing an extensive menagerie of cameras, security sensors, knives, guns, voice recorders, a microphone, headphones, a box full of memory sticks and hard drives, a couple more buzzing computers, a fucking bear trap, whips, some sort of black mask, boxes of medicine, bloodstains, some cash fluttered to the ground, and several outfits falling off hangers, obscuring whatever else is in this bizarre little storage closet.

Anti sets you down on the floor of his room and sits down, pulling a computer into his lap. “It’s going to be a pain to move,” he admits before he gets to work. “But this is my set-up! Click that like button, gamers.”

Dapper’s chest shakes with silent laughter and Anti sighs warmly, drawing in on himself. “Was that all you wanted to see?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What's the point in having a bedroom if you're never in it? You and Dap seem to be snuggly enough.

“It’s an office, not a bedroom! I work in here, even Dapper can’t come in.”

loganandoli asked: Basically yep! Also anti, what were your other houses like? Were they bigger or smaller then this one? Did everyone ever have their own room?

“The last one we were at was smaller, but we’ve moved around from place to place. Stayed in some motels when it was just Red and Dapper and I.”

Anti’s signs for his boys are different than Dapper’s. Red’s is “fight” mixed with the word for the color red, and Dapper’s is a D with the tapping of the wrist for “time.”

“Sometimes we’ve all been in the same room, but no one ever sleeps entirely alone. When it was just the three of us, Red would sleep on the floor beside us even if there were other rooms. And then with Doktor for a while, and then him and Doktor and Trick. But no one ever sleeps alone in a room, it’s not healthy. Someone should be watching. Someone should be there.

“I liked the last house quite well. We were in the middle of town, close enough that I could feel all the signals buzzing around. Maybe I’ll take us back to a city again someday.”

just-a-youtubers-blog asked: No, I meant, like, what happens afterward? Is it a blow to his self-esteem, does he get really apathetic or tired, (gasps) does he… does he remember being Chase afterward? Is that it? Tell us! I wanna know! (I'm acting like a gossipy teen for this, if the text doesn't tell you) (It's hard to interpret tone in text, so… that's my tone) (y'know… waving my hands in front of my face like I'm hot, stuff like that)

Anti eyes you carefully. “After I wear Trick? He gets sick for a while, and then just needy. Wildly needy. Begging for attention, begging desperate for attention, crying and clinging to me, asking to sleep with me, to stay close to me, saying he feels bad, saying he’s afraid. Has these huge freak-outs, screaming and crying and nightmares, getting triggered by small things, sometimes several times a day, calling for me and all his brothers, even Red and Dapper sometimes.”

Anti pauses. “I don’t do it so much anymore,” he says. “Used to wear him often… but sometimes, afterwards, he even begins to talk about dying, about blood, in a way that I don’t like me, joking about it but… not joking. So I rarely wear him, and make sure Dok can watch over him afterwards.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Don't you think the others feel a little...I don't know, isolated, from the world? Makes it hard for them to blend in when they go into town when they don't really interact with normal people, don't you think?

“Isolated? What do they need the world for? They have each other. They have me. They wouldn’t be safe if they weren’t isolated, anyway. Definitely all go to jail, at the very least.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey, Dok? Any update on what's going on down there?

It’s hard getting Dok up the stairs.

Neither of their older brothers are well enough to help and Doktor is a shivering mess, stiff as bone, almost too clammed up to move. “You’re okay, man,” promises Trick again and again, trying to get him to his feet. “You’re okay, he’s not going to hurt you, he’s not going to hurt you.”

But Dok’s been in the basement too many times to relax, and he’s already too deep in his panic to make out most of what Trick is saying. All he can do is try to cooperate, managing to sling an arm over Trick’s shoulder, and let his brother half-carry him up the stairs, whispering reassurances.

Trick is slicked in sweat and pumped up with adrenaline, but as soon as they’re back in the nest, he shatters like glass, both of them collapsing into their blankets and coats and clothes, lying side-by-side and face-to-face. He doesn’t even notice Red’s presence until their brother is beside them, calling their names anxiously, and Trick doesn’t even have the strength to be vigilant about the danger he represents. He just wants to be fucking held.

Red rubs at his back and Trick begins to cry, hard, clutching Doktor, who’s gone silent beside him, eyes closed, shaking hard, hard, but only minutely, paralyzed and numb.

Blue watches from a few feet away. His hands are gripped into fists.

He has to get them out of here.

He has to get them all out of this place.

But first, he just has to try to get them through this night.

Anonymous asked: Anti, how often do you physically leave the house? Like you have Red and Trickshot run errands all the time, but what do you ever leave for?

“Physically? Physically I leave only when I am very bored or there is someone who I must hunt down. But often my mind is faraway. I can go anywhere, you know. I can go anywhere. I am everywhere.”

cest-mellow asked: hello anti, how are you? can i ask why you don’t like animals very much?

Anti’s eyes widen and then narrow into a furious scowl, not fit for Dapper’s face. Wiping at his cheek where the bird touched him, he reaches up to turn off the camera, just like that.

Well, then.

Anonymous asked: Big scary man who turns into big scary dog is scared of small friendly raven.

Red glances up, the message reaching him instead of Anti. For a second, he looks wildly, skittishly delighted.

“Fucking hell,” he whispers, his face turning red as he tries not to laugh. “Shut up, dude, he’ll kill you if he hears that. How the hell did you find out about that? He hates living animals, holy shit. Keep your voice down, haha! Oh, I should not laugh. I should not…”

Anonymous asked: Blue be cautious. Anti is making a show of force by wearing Dapper around. He's in control and wants you to know it. You need to make a "show" of compliance. Just... wait.

Frustrated, Blue nevertheless nods. “He’s really punishing Dapper for what I did, huh? I don’t understand, why would he possess him just because I was saying that…”

spicydanhowell asked: oh babies :( it's gonna be ok. if someone can help dok stay grounded itd help a lot. anything you can do to bring him out of his head. try using physical pressure, eye contact, try and get him to respond somehow

Red leans over his brothers like he might try some of your suggestions, but he’s not up to eye contact or touch right now.

“Here, let me,” croaks Blue, reaching out for help at the bottom of the stairs.

Red hurries over to him and helps him limp up the stairs, clutching at the wounds across his chest, healing slowly. He and Red fall to their knees besides their little brothers, and Blue reacts as though on instinct, kneeling above Doktor and then just crushing into something like a hug, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and clutching him tight, tight, stroking the back of his neck while Doktor shakes.

“Poor guy, poor guy,” mumbles Marvin, leaning down to press their foreheads together, waiting for Doktor to open his eyes. “It’s okay, Dok. It’s okay.”

He sits holding him for a long time, til Doktor’s staring up at him, his mouth trembling but his body relaxing.

“Kit,” he whispers, closing his eyes again.

“What? It’s Blue, Dok.”

“No… med - med k-kit…”

Blue draws back, alarmed. “You hurt?”

Trick is already dashing to the cupboards and back, returning with the med-kit. They all watch in worried anticipation as Doktor, with shaking hands, draws back his sleeves to reveal his scarred up wrists, takes a sewing needle out of his kit, and draws back -

“Dok, no!” cries Trick, grabbing his hand out of the air before he can stab himself with the needle, aiming for a long pink scar down from his elbow. “No, no, you’re not bleeding, it’s not open!”

“He cut me!” shrieks Doktor, scrabbling at the clean scar with his free hand. “He cut me, I need to stitch it up, I’m bleeding!”

“You’re not, you’re not! Dok!”

Red snatches the needle out of his hand and closes the kit back up, moving away to return it to the cupboard while Blue and Trick restrain their brother. Doktor begins to sob, moaning and clawing at his body, pulling at old scars.

Blue and Trick both help hold him down for a long time, rocking, calling his name, stroking his back. “Maybe he needs a sedative,” pants Blue, crushing his shoulders again, which seems to calm him down.

“We’re not allowed to give sedatives unless someone’s actually hurt.”

Marvin remembers your warning to lay low and acquiesces, though a low growl rises from his throat.

Doktor falls asleep eventually anyway, clinging to Trick’s shirt, mumbling his name.

Trick stares down at his brother, stroking his hair. His eyes are so exhausted he looks like a blind man.

“Hey,” murmurs Blue, reaching out to touch his cheek.

Trick doesn’t answer, staring.

“Hey,” repeats Blue.

“Will you crush me too?” asks Trick.

Blue can’t help but laugh. “Come again?”

Trick looks right up at him, face blank. “Crush me too? H-hold me like that?”

Blue’s smile fades away. Serious now, he moves gently forward, and wraps his arms around Trickshot, and squeezes him as tight as he fucking can.

Trick cries against his chest.

“It’s okay,” mumbles Marvin, knocking their heads together hard. “It’s okay. We’re okay for tonight, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

“I won’t go anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“We can all sleep up here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Trick sobs and sobs. Red returns to their side, his face sad, and comes to sit beside them, watching over Dok.

“I got you,” Marvin reassures, again and again and again. “It’s okay, I got you, I got you, I got you.”

Anonymous asked: oh Man, you guys hAve been thRough a lot tonight. you must be Very exhausted IN light of all this. perhaPs it will heLp get your minds off of All this if you wiNd down and go to sleep ?

The boys exchange nervous glances - even Doktor shifts in his sleep, grimacing against Marvin’s thigh. But they’re good at taking orders, and exhausted. Red brings his sleeping bag over and sets up in the corner, watching over them, while Trick curls up in his blankets at Doktor’s side, near to Marvin.

Marvin, though - Marvin stays awake.

He stares at you through the darkness, his face set and ferocious, protective.

I’m going to save them. I’m going to save all my brothers. I’m not going to let them get hurt.

Someone has to keep watching. Someone always has to be watching. Tonight, it is Marvin’s turn. But the danger is already in the house with him, and he curls low over his brothers’ bodies, and holds them close, wishing that Jameson were here as well. He does not sleep the whole night through. He is trying to remember.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin, you gotta think of something, and fast. You're all safe for now, for sure, but keep your wits about you. There's too much power in that house.

Marvin’s exhausted eyes well with tears as he stares up at you.

“I… I had some plans, to get them all out of here… I think I remember bits and pieces of hiding around this town, of the way I came here, of how we could get away, especially if we all worked together… but the problem is…”

Marvin’s head drops. He strokes Trick’s hair, tears dripping down his face.

“I can’t leave any of them behind. Not one, not one. They need me here. I need to be here. That’s why Anti put on Dapper. I understand now. You all told me to remember all four of my brothers, that I loved and tried to protect all of them. I know that’s true, and so does he. I can’t go without all of them, so Anti made it impossible for me to take them all… I can’t get to Jameson without Anti.

“I can’t escape. I’d have to leave Jamie behind, with Anti wearing him, chained up better than if he were tied up and locked in the basement…”

Wiping furiously at his eyes does little to dry Marvin’s face. “You know, he’s the one I haven’t seen in the longest,” he sobs. “I remember losing him, and all of us being so afraid. It’s been months. I’ve barely laid eyes on him. I don’t know if he’s okay - he must be so miserable all the time. My poor little brother. I can’t leave him behind. I can’t leave at all.”

cest-mellow asked: don’t worry marvin, it’ll be okay. anti can’t wear jamie forever right? i bet he’ll become lonely, or he might need a hug or something. maybe you can use that to your advantage..?

Marvin pauses, staring, considering. “You’re right… right? Surely you must be… surely he can’t wear Jamie forever…”

Anonymous asked: Anti is overconfident if he thinks he can wear Jameson 24-7 AND expect him to still have the energy to turn things back if things go awry. Look where Anti ISN'T looking, Marv, and be patient.

“Right, right,” mumbles Marvin, getting lost in thought. “That’s good, that’s really good… maybe there’s even a way I can wear him out… or trick him into letting Jay go…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: What if you sneak out in pairs? Get a few out at a time or something? Or a decoy!

Marvin nods slowly. “Hm, yeah… If I could convince someone to run the next time he sends them into town or something….”

He sighs, his hand rubbing down Trick’s back. “They just seem so convinced, though. I don’t know. Maybe they’re just too far gone. Maybe I’m just paranoid, tricking myself. Anti seems bad, yeah, but I don’t remember much… maybe I’m confused, maybe I should be here…”

His eyes cloud over slightly.

“I seem to remember something nice with Anti,” he says softly, a smile playing along his mouth. “Like… him holding me. And it was warm, and I was sure of everything… no confusion, just… Anti.”

Anonymous asked: Marvin, are you maybe thinking of Jack?

Marvin stills, staring at the ground.

“I don’t think so,” he says, after a very long time. “I don’t remember who that is at all.”

Anonymous asked: Uh oh, we're losing the cat

Marvin blinks, suddenly anxious, trying to remember something he’s forgotten. “Who’s the cat? Is that why Anti calls me Kitten?”

Anonymous asked: Trust your instincts on this one, Marvin. One good deed by Anti, real or fake, doesn't measure up to the infinite amounts of abuse he's put--and will continue to put-- you and your family through.

“Right, right… the warmth is just… a trick, it’s just… he’s not really good, even though he feels like he is when you look at him…”

musical-in-theory asked: Marvin, whenever you feel yourself slipping away into Blue, let this thought ground you again: Anti hurt your brothers and made them thank him for it.

Marvin’s heart drops into his stomach. For a second, he can only breathe through the words.

“Oh, oh,” he whispers, clenching his fists tight, digging his nails into his palms. “He did, he did.”

He is curled low over Doktor’s body, breathing through his teeth.

“Anti hurt my brothers and made them thank him for it.”

cutiepotato777 asked: Happy Birthday Glitchy Boy! Whatcha gonna do for your birthday? (This was not the 31st, but the anniversary of the first day Anti glitched on Jack’s channel)

He scowls, bent low over his computers. “By all means, let’s celebrate the first day I was used as a fucking prop to win some bitch boy internet points. Nothing, I’m not celebrating. Probably need to break that fucking cat back in today, though. I want to see if I can get him fully under within a month. Took me two for Trick and Dok. Want to break my record. That would be worth celebrating.”

Anonymous asked: Anti have you tried to wear Blue before, when you were resetting him maybe? Or is this something you're holding off on?

“I haven’t yet…. possession does not generally lend itself to fondness, which is the most important thing to cultivate in the first few months. But if I need to, I will. I wonder if his magic burns.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marv, i'd be on your best behaviour. Anti is SUPER sour today, it seems.

Marvin can’t help but laugh at that. “Sour, huh? Fuck… okay. Yeah.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe ask Red how much he remembers? I think he's gonna be your strongest ally right now.

Red glances over at you, still snuggled up in his sleeping bag by the window. He’s only been awake for a couple minutes and he’s surprisingly comfy, even in the cold. He can’t remember the last time he woke up without feeling lonely. I mean. He can’t remember the last time he woke up at all before yesterday, but whatever.

“That’s a good question,” says Marvin, looking up at him. “What do you remember?”

“What do you?” asks Red sleepily, rubbing at his eyes.

Marvin shrugs, scooting closer to sit next to his brother’s legs, dangling off the sill. “Just bits and pieces. A couple names, a couple places. Sensations, more than anything else… like there’s all these places in my brain where a memory should be, but… it isn’t.” He pauses, rubbing his thumb across the palm of his other hand. “I don’t even know who I was… just a tiny bit of who I am.”

Red sniffs and turns to look out the window, shrugging. Marvin waits patiently for him to speak, eventually nudging his knee.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere but here,” he says tiredly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone but Anti’s. I remember Trick and Doktor a little, the boy in the attic a little. Some fights, some… scary nights. Some of my scars help me remember. I think, for the most part, it’s just been me, hiding behind the island, for a very long time.”

There’s a pause. The birds are singing in the trees.

“I don’t think you were with me,” says Red, his voice heavy. “And I think it was very painful. Maybe it’s better we don’t remember.”

Anonymous asked: so anti... how are you going to break blue in? are you hypnotizing him again or (fuck) something else?

“I’ve had to find different techniques for every one of them, they all react differently. Protective Jackie, needy little Chase, ferocious Jamie, proud Henrik… I’ll have to experiment with Marvin. Already stripped half of who he is away. Just have to see what makes him tick. Why, you have suggestions?”

nikkilbook asked: Help them remember kindness. Trick and Red have both said that they get angry because it hurts less to be hateful, be violent, that that’s how they protect each other and themselves from even more pain. And as much as it will hurt and as dangerous as it might be, you’ve GOT to remember kindness. Remember what real love feels like. See all the ways Anti is hollow in comparison. Make them feel safe for little seconds in between. Make them remember that they are worth the world.

Marvin nods slowly, closing his eyes. “I… think I can do that. I have to be here. Have to be what they need me to be. I can be kind. I can be good to them. This is my family, after all, even if I barely remember them.”

He tugs on Red’s pant leg, grinning up at him. “Hey. Come down here so I can change your bandages and then let’s get everybody up for some breakfast. Yeah?”

Anonymous asked: Mr. Love-is-just-chemicals-we-live-in-a-society-and-has-read-exactly-one-psychology-article-to-know-how-people-work wants suggestions, everybody!

Anti laughs. The laugh becomes a cough. It tickles in his chest and makes him laugh again, harder. Dapper’s face is somewhat pallid.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Do you have a favourite to wear, birthday boy?

Anti puffs up, a little pleased with the attention despite himself. “Probably Carver,” he says. “He’s been mine the longest and he’s comfy, familiar. I like the way his hands move, he’s a knife-thrower like me. But I like Red too, he’s gotten so strong again and he’s almost as quick as my Carver.”

Anti pauses, thinking.

“Maybe that’s what we’ll do today,” he signs, glancing down at Dapper’s body. “Maybe it’s time for a good tussle.”

nikkilbook asked: Uhm. I would just like to point out that you made Dapper cough just by laughing a minute ago. Maybe extreme physical activity is not the best idea right now. Plus also, Red still has a head wound. Maybe don’t engage in activities that might seriously damage them.

“I’ve put them through worse.”

Anonymous asked: So do you prefer what kills them to make them stronger or weaker? Because I think what kills them is going to make them dead, and because consequences be damned, you'll just make your *very fatigued* puppet undo your mess, right?

Anti drums Dapper’s fingers against the floor, growling to himself, a breathy, voiceless noise like a snake hissing. “Red’s lucky I’ve taught him to fight under pressure,” he signs, but he seems to be cooling on the idea.

“Is he really so bad off? Why’s my Doktor not doing more? Didn’t he stitch it up? He stitches up all his other wounds and then there’s only that one area I have to be careful with. Isn’t his skull supposed to be thick? Why are you humans so frail?”

He chews on Dapper’s nails for a second, and then seems to catch himself in the act and stops, sighing. “They wear out so fast.”

He rubs at a deep scar on Dapper’s tummy, beginning to feel tired. He should have slept or eaten or something.

Anonymous asked: Trickshot, Someone, are you guys awake yet?

You find them cheerfully eating breakfast downstairs, bagels with peanut butter, sitting in a circle with blankets wrapped around shoulders. Doktor isn’t eating, but he’s awake, at least, lying against Trick’s shoulder and holding his brother’s hand. Trick waves at you, wiping peanut butter off his chin. “What’s up?”

He still looks shaky, but he’s happy this morning.

Anonymous asked: Goodness, you sound so petulant about their limits being so different from yours. Isn’t that what makes it fun? Their limits are what enable you to play with them so thoroughly; wear them out, push them past their limits, toy with pushing those limits further. But every knife has two edges.

“There are limits that benefit me,” Anti admits. “Making Henrik scream when he swore to God he never would, getting Chase to beg for me because no one’s touched him for two weeks, watching Jackie get thinner and thinner… but if they’re always weak, what’s the fun in that? Over far too soon if you can be broken with a crack of the skull.”

He stares blankly into the distance, flipping a knife in his hand once, twice, before letting it thunk back to the ground.

“I hate them,” he tells you suddenly, still staring away. “I hate all of them. Their weakness. The parts of them that remind me of him.

“Some days I dream about taking them to a cliff and telling them all to walk off, one by one… But then, I suppose I’d be…”

He doesn’t know what. Lonely? Drifting? Unprotected?

“I need them for my plans,” he concludes finally, closing his eyes. “I must love them a little if I keep them around at all. I… think that’s right.

“Anyway, you’re right. I must watch their limits. Push them, but not too far. Break but in the right way. That’s the only way I’ve been able to keep them all so far.”

cest-mellow asked: anti, why don’t you take a break? you should eat, or let dapper eat and rest, he’s probably going to be really sick if you wear him for so long. maybe you can rest too, lay with him or take a walk...? you deserve to have a moment of peace today, don’t you think?

“I have to take care of the body,” says Anti flatly, getting to his feet. He’ll eat, maybe, drink some water too, but he won’t let Dapper go without good reason. “A walk might be good. I love the ocean where the water crashes hard against the rocks.”

Anonymous asked: You guys have any routines you do everyday?

“That’s a good question,” says Trick, and turns to his brothers - only Doktor’s practically numb against his should, and Red and Blue stare blankly at him, waiting for the answer too. He can’t help but laugh a little.

“You usually go for a run,” he tells Red. “But I wouldn’t advise it today. You sort through all our supplies, everything we have, meticulously. Sometimes Anti calls you upstairs and I don’t know what you do… work, he calls it, chores. Often he has errands for you outside of the house. You check and reset the traps, eat and make sure we have too, run again, watch the birds… there’s a ball in your corner, I used to hear you throwing it around a lot. Sometimes Anti would go walking with you…”

Trick trails off, a brief flash of something like jealousy or grief flickering over his face. He readjusts and continues.

“Me and Dok have lots we do, but I’m nocturnal most days cause I’m on watch. He’ll read to me and run me through some exercises. Says I get stiff sitting up all night. In the morning, we go to the laundromat when we need to, and we eat and wash and clean up our nest and stuff.”

He pats proudly at his blankets and clothes.

“Then I go to sleep and you - ” He squeezes Dok’s hand and turns to glance at him - “What do you do, man? Color and read and memorize all our books. He can do the first four chapters of the Hobbit without looking, you know.

“There used to be more for us to do before we came here. Anti had us in the other countries for different reasons, not just tracking down Blue, so we all had things to do. Dok ran a clinic and everything. That’s how Anti caught that mafia kid he wanted - came to Dok cause he couldn’t go to the hospital, and then Anti had him. But now… yeah. We try to stay entertained around here. I miss when Anti let us have our music players.”

Anonymous asked: Are there ever days where you don't see Anti at all? How long were Anti and Red gone when they were out looking for Blue?

“Yeah, there are days we don’t see him! Sometimes a really, really long time for Dok and I. In the place we were living like… two countries ago, Anti was often gone, and left Red at home with us. He stays at home now more since wh-what happened, but…”

Dok shivers and clutches at his stomach. Outside, he thinks he hears… dogs? Or people, or something? But everyone else is listening to Trick. He hides his face against his shoulder and tries not to think about it.

“We’ve been here trying to catch Blue for ‘bout three weeks.”

Blue startles. “Have you?”

“You must be good at hiding,” says Red.

“You are,” admits Trick. His gun is farther from his hand than you’ve ever seen it at home. He looks happy. “Haha, I was starting to think it was another dead end. But here you are!”

He beams at Marvin. Marvin can’t help but smile back at the full force of it. This guy is too sweet to be Anti’s sniper.

“Anti and Red were gone maybe four hours. I think Anti found exactly where he was, and then it was just the walk and the fight and bringing him back home.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Hey Red! What if there was an errand that you and Blue needed to run? *cough* Marvin *cough* an opportunity *cough*

“Um.” Red squints thoughtfully, glancing over at Marvin. “If I think of anything, I guess I’ll see if Anti will let him come along. I probably need to get rid of the Percocet Trick grabbed… unless Dok or Anti wants it, I guess.”

Anonymous asked: You gonna eat anything, Dok?

He stares numbly down at the little bit of food before them, his new glasses sitting low on his nose. Trick nudges him and reaches out to pull the bagels closer, but Doktor just shakes his head and hides his face in his twin’s shoulder.

“Come on, bud,” insists Trick, rubbing his back. “Here, come on, have some of mine.”

He tears off a bit of bagel and peanut butter and holds it up to his brother’s face. After a moment, Doktor reaches up to take it and puts it in his mouth, chewing slowly and burying himself back in Trick’s sleeve.

Trick sighs.

“He often gets like this?” asks Marvin, worried.

“No,” mumbles Trick. “Usually he’s more violent when he’s upset.”

“Well, how often does he get upset?”

Trick flinches and tugs Dok a little closer, looking warily up at Blue. He’s not used to telling anyone about Dok’s breakdowns - he never knows if he’ll be answered with sympathy or frustration.

“Not often,” he manages finally.

Marvin hums, his eyes narrowing slightly. Trick shrinks back nervously, only for Marvin to take his chin carefully in his hand and tip his head back up.

“Tell me the truth,” says Marvin, a blue light flashing through his eyes.

Trick’s shoulders slump with resignation - and maybe a little relief, too, to have a confidant for something they have been struggling with for months.

“Maybe three times a week, he gets where I’m afraid he’ll hurt himself,” he croaks. “But the really bad breakdowns, where he’s wild, where he might attack me… I don’t know, maybe once a month. He scares me. And then he doesn’t remember well afterwards, and he tells me it didn’t even happen.”

Dok shakes against his shoulder. Trick grips him tight, looking up at Blue like he expects him to fix it.

Marvin lays a hand on his shoulder and strokes the side of his neck with his thumb. “Okay,” he sighs, drawing away. “Okay, we can work with that. It’s going to be okay.”

Dok just hides, his hands curling around the scars all over his body, wondering why he can still smell the blood.

Anonymous asked: Are you ok, Dok... ?

He presses harder against Trick’s shoulder. He wants to go back to bed. He remembers being in the basement last night, but nothing happened, so the punishment must still be yet to come. And now he could swear he hears feet crushing leaves in the forest outside, like someone’s coming for him, him and his Trickshot…

Anonymous asked: Is there a separate stash of food upstairs or does somebody bring food to Dapper?

“I don’t know how Anti feeds Dapper,” admits Trick, momentarily confused. “I guess he has food up there, cause we don’t share with him far as I know.”

spicydanhowell asked: trick, something's bothering dok. a noise outside :/ (An anon sent a similar ask advising them to listen and was added).

Adrenaline floods through Trick’s blood and before the purple twins have even read your message he is scrambling to his feet, leaving Dok moaning for him to come back, grabbing after his brother. Trick ignores him and practically throws himself at the window, snatching up his gun and staring out the glass, panting -

“Trick?” calls Red, worried. “What’s - ”

“Someone outside,” gasps Trick. “Moving along the path, I can see - if they turn off the path they’ll see the house!”

Red staggers to his feet and comes to his side, startled. Neon vests can be seen in flashes through the trees lower down on the mountain, on a path that leads away from them, though not far. Red hears the barking of a dog.

“C-cops,” stammers Trick, adjusting his gun in shaking hands. “M-must have seen - have seen me - have seen m-me outside the pharmacy or the boy told them or caught my scent or - ”

“Calm down,” calls Red, grabbing his shoulder. “Calm down, let’s figure this out, we’re not caught yet.”

“Anti!” cries Trick, leaping down from the nest. “Anti!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him!” protests Marvin, alarmed. “He could punish you!”

“Not as bad as he will if I don’t tell him there’s cops coming!”

Anonymous asked: are the scars all over dok's arms and wrists from him hurting himself in his breakdowns or from anti punishing him? it seems like he's been hallucinating as well...

Doktor closes his eyes, trying to breathe through the panic around him. He holds out his arms in front of him, focusing on those old, strangely numb memories - some of them done to himself, cuts along his tummy from when he thought there was something growing beneath his skin, along his arms from where he thought infected cuts needed to be made clean… others from his master’s enemies, burying the bullet in his stomach or slashing him as he tried to run, grabbing him and shouting threats, trying to drag him away from his family or force him to tell things he did not want to tell… and then some, some of course from his master himself, because he used to be so bad, he used to be so proud, and he would spit and curse and snarl at Anti, until the blade fell and fell and fell again, and he began to cry for mercy, shattered like he never knew he could shatter, shattered into a new man entirely, a man he barely recognizes, coated in these aching scars, which always seem to bleed… used to be he only saw them open afresh in his nightmares, but these days, he sometimes sees them with his eyes wide open, staring down at wounds crying out, in silence, for stitches.

He curls in on himself, face blank.

Anonymous asked: No no no, calm down, Trick! It's okay. I'm sure they wouldn't send out dogs just to look for someone who stole meds. You didn't even cause any property damage. They probably aren't here for you, okay? It's just a coincidence. Blue or Red, you wait by the door in case they come up just to check on y'all, but right now, there's no reason to panic. They have no reason to suspect you. Keep Dok safe and calm, okay? That's more important right now.

Trick bites hard on his lip, trembling. “N-no, I - are you sure? Are you sure? I’m s-scared, I need to tell him - I’m scared they’ll shoot Doktor again, oh, oh, oh.”

spicydanhowell asked: trick, get anti right away, he'll hide you, i promise

“Yes,” pants Trick, nearly sobbing. “Yes, he always protects me when I’m in danger. Even when I’ve fucked up, no matter how bad I am, he protects me.”

“Trick,” cries Marvin, kneeling close to Doktor. “Are you sure? I - ”

“I’m the guard dog!” Trick shouts, whirling on him. “I have to tell him! He’ll keep us safe!”

The air burns with tension.

Anonymous asked: Keep your voices down just in case. As far as they know the house isn't here. If they do, they probably think it's abandoned. Don't give them a reason to investigate. Tell Anti if you have to but be ready for anything

“We need to make it look abandoned,” mumbles Red, glancing around at his families. “Get the blankets and things and hide. We’re in trouble if they even find us in this house, especially with the weapons.”

spicydanhowell asked: yes, i'm certain this is the best thing to do trick. you're not meant to keep this kind of thing from anti, but you all need to keep your voices down so nobody out there hears you :/

Marvin stares, afraid for his brothers. Red pipes up to reassure him. “Blue, he’ll protect us first and foremost. No matter how little I know, I’m sure of that.”

Fuck, he’s really trusting their safety to that monster? There should be something he can do, but he can barely remember the way his magic feels welling up in his mouth, let alone how to do anything worthwhile.

“Okay,” he croaks, gripping nervously at his hair. Trick is off like a shot, braving halfway up the stairs.

“Anti!” he cries. “Someone’s coming! Cops and dogs or hunters or something - someone’s on the path!”

Alarmed, Anti is up from his computers in a second, rushing to the top of the stairs. Trickshot’s terrified face stares up at him through the shadows, and a furious wave of protectiveness, of possessiveness, wells in Anti’s chest, hot and powerful.

“I’m sorry,” whispers Trick, tears welling in his eyes.

Anti shakes his head and beckons Trick up the stairs, darting towards Dapper’s bedroom. He lies down on the bed, just for a second, and the whole screen glitches horribly, bursting into flashes of color and static. When your vision returns, Dapper lies still on the bed and Anti stands before him, clutching a knife in his hand.

“Trick, listen to me,” he begins.

“I’m sorry,” cries Trick again, covering his mouth with his free hand.

Anti rushes forward to hold him, pulling him close and kissing the side of his head with a sudden ferocity, digging his fingers into the other side of the scalp. He draws back again and grabs Trick’s face in his hands, looking him straight in the eye. He knows what Trick is responsive to and he summons the guise now - a body looking just like Jack’s the last time Chase saw him, brown hair tumbling into his eyes and big round glasses to make his face look softer.

“Trick,” he repeats, louder. “Listen to me, little brother. I’ll go draw them away - ”

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I’ll go draw them away,” he insists, shaking Trick. “And you will stay here and watch over Carver.”

“Wh - watch over Carver? I should be downstairs with my gun, on watch - ”

“This is more important. Do you understand? I want you to sit here at Carver’s side - ” he gestures to the bed “ - and I want you to shoot anyone who comes up the stairs.”

Trick freezes, trying to get words out of his mouth.

“Anyone, Trick. Anyone. Especially Blue, no matter what he tells you. Do you understand me?”

He manages a nod, tears welling up in his eyes. Anti pushes back his hair warmly and lets out a shaky breath.

“I love you,” he says. “Tell Dapper the password is Caligula, but only to use it if I don’t come home in the next four hours. Okay?”

“Yes, Anti. Anti, Anti. I love you - I love you too.”

Anti nods and lets him go, darting down the stairs. He’ll keep them away from his pets. He’ll protect his family whatever it takes.

“Where’s that green coat?” he calls, ignoring the others and rushing towards Doktor, who responds as if on instinct, scrambling to find the coat amid the messy nest. He holds it up and Anti snatches it, heading towards the door.

“Go hide in the basement,” he orders. “Red, right hand, keep your brothers quiet and keep your brothers safe.”

“Yes, Anti.”

“What will you do?” calls Marvin, as Anti’s hand finds the doorknob.

Anti turns to him with something dark and wild in his eyes, a cold grin on his mouth.

“Something I’d never have to do if you idiots weren’t with me,” he laughs, fangs sprouting in his mouth. “Run!”

And he vanishes out the door.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, how can you be so trusting of anti when he literally BROKE you and your brothers?

Blue’s eyes well up with tears. “What do you want me to do?” he asks, distressed. “Just resign myself to the thought of him letting us be killed? How can I trust him? How can I not trust him? He’s holding our lives in his hands! I’m sorry!”

Anonymous asked: Trick, how's Dapper? Anti hasn't fed him anything or let him sleep since he started wearing him. Does he seem sick?

“H-he’s mostly unconscious right now, I think. He’ll be sick when he wakes up for sure. Anti makes everyone sick. Having him under your skin is like - argh, horrible! I guess Dapper takes it better than me - everyone takes it better than me, I’m such a coward - but yeah, he’ll be sick.”

Trick’s lying in the hallway, gun pointed and ready. There is nowhere for him to prop it up standing or sitting, so he lies on his belly, like a snake in wait. His fingers drum anxiously against the handle and he glances back at Dapper. “Should I check on him, you think? Or just keep watch?”

Anonymous asked: Blue whatever ideas you have of getting to Dapper, this isn't the time. Anti's thought ahead, and Chase's loyalty to him is deep. Worry about Doktor, he might not take going back to the basement so well. Maybe practice your magic a little. Lights or flowers or something. Nothing too crazy.

“Right, right - that’s a good idea.”

Swallowing, Blue turns around to rejoin Red, who’s doing his best to pull Doktor towards the basement without hurting him. “Here, let me get him,” insists Blue, stepping in for his brother. “Throw some of the blankets and shit downstairs and lock up the cupboards. I’ll get him down there. Come on, man, it’s okay.”

Deutsch doesn’t even seem reluctant, just resigned, tears spilling down his face the closer he’s lead to the basement. He groans a little, gritting his teeth in his mouth, and Marvin wraps a reassuring arm around him, murmuring reassurances.

As if false hope and warm skin can save him.

“Don’t,” manages Doktor, gasping, pushing suddenly back against Marvin’s arm. “Don’t - make me.”

“Doktor - ”

“Don’t make me go down there. Don’t make me go down there.”

“Doktor - ”

“Don’t make - ”

“Henrik!”

Doktor jolts like he’s been struck by lightning, a hand flashing out to grip Marvin’s shirt. No, no, no - Trick is supposed to be here to protect that name, to prevent that name, to hold that name as secret, Doktor himself is not supposed to hear it, is not supposed to remember -

But fuck, he says it like it means so much.

Doktor whimpers, letting his head fall against Marvin’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” croaks Marvin, pulling him close. “I’ll keep you safe. It’s me. I swear.”

Outside, dogs around the house, not chasing dogs, but fit to catch scents. Jackie prays Anti will act fast - but in the meantime, the danger is here, and he was told to keep the other’s safe.

“We don’t have time for this,” he says, and he stalks forward, grabs Doktor by the arms, and drags him past the basement door, practically shoving him down the stairs. Doktor yelps pitifully. “Red!” cries Marvin.

Red’s face is hot with shame, but he doesn’t pause, returning to grab Marvin too, who snarls as he is dragged into the basement, pissed. His equal in fury and doubly frantic, Red just lets him go and continues walking, listening to the door slamming behind him.

“You better pray to God Anti didn’t hear you say that name,” snaps Red.

“Fuck you!” returns Blue, furious. “And fuck him too! It doesn’t belong to him! We don’t belong to him!”

Terror floods Red like lava spilling over, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s near to tears. “Don’t say that,” he wails, gripping at his hair, backing away. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know! Just - just don’t say it! You’ll get hurt!”

“You remember that much, huh? You remember next to nothing but you know that if we rebel we’ll be tortured and that’s not enough to - ”

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

Barking in the distance, moving away, he hopes. Panting, Marvin grabs Doktor’s shoulders and moves him towards the corner of the room, helping him sink down to the floor and wrapping protective arms around him, glaring at Red.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, would you really shoot one of your brothers if they were in your way? That sound really scary to deal with....but you should definitely check on Dap. He needs all the support he can get.

Trick pauses.

He imagines Blue walking up the stairs, timid, shy, kind, loving. Warmer than a space heater, more reassuring than the barrel of his gun, good like the first rays of sunshine.

He imagines Anti.

“Yeah,” he tells you, chill. “I would.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: How's it looking out there, Anti? The boys inside are getting restless!

He hasn’t brought a camera with him, not seeing himself as answering to you. He will be gone for some time. Like the boys, you are forced to wait and see, which kind of sucks ass.

The dogs seem to have moved away, however.

Anonymous asked: definitely watch over him. he's sick and anti asked you to. anti said something interesting about dapper though. he said he's resilient. he hasn't gotten thin like the rest of you and his wounds don't scar as much. i have no idea if anti has him wash, or even feeds him at all so i'm really interested... maybe you could poke around in the room too?

Trick gets up to his feet obediently, moving to Dapper’s bedside.

“What’s this about… resilience?” he asks.

Dapper is asleep in the bed, but fitful. His face is beaded with sweat, his chin tilted strangely high to let him breathe, raspy and fast, like he’s having a nightmare. His eyes are colored purple like a watercolor painting with exhaustion for an art form.

Trick is stabbed by sympathy. He sets his gun to his side - carefully, carefully, he always keeps it close - and brushes overgrown curls out of Dapper’s eyes, laying a cool hand against his hot forehead.

“Hey, bud,” he murmurs. “You with me?”

Evidently not. Dapper’s mouth trembles and he sleeps on.

After a moment, Trick unbuttons his dress shirt, stripping the fabric off to make him more comfortable. Then he can’t resist his own curiosity, lifting up the white undershirt hidden beneath.

Dapper’s tummy is smooth and scarless, his arms the same. He is thin but not starving. The bruises on his neck from yanking against the rope have healed in a matter of days.

Trick frowns. He’s never really thought about that before, how Dapper always seems to look the same no matter what you do to him. He doesn’t know why there would be a difference in their resiliency - they’re supposed to be genetically identical, Anti says, or close enough. Trick always just put the difference down to their treatment, but he remembers well enough the days when they were both treated the same, as twins.

Trick shivers, a craving he does not recognize rising in his mouth.

He finds no food in the room. There’s a washcloth in the bathroom and some water in a pail, but the sink does not run and the bathtub barely trickles.

Anonymous asked: You don’t think anti just doesn’t feed him cause carver can just heal himself if he starves to death, do you?

Trick frowns, tilting his head. “I don’t know… I… I don’t understand his powers. That sounds… really cruel, I don’t know if Anti would…”

Trick pales and decides not to finish his train of thought, sitting down at Dapper’s side. Occasionally, he reaches out to push his hair around or stroke his cheek or shoulder, but he always draws away again, like he shouldn’t be touching him.

spicydanhowell asked: maybe he keeps dapper's things like food and water and stuff in his office so he can decide when to give it to him. poor little guy. definitely keep holding his hand and touching him though, he loves that and it'll make him feel better

“Yeah, maybe.”

Trick gets a little bolder in his contact with Dapper, rubbing the back of his neck now, in heavy, reassuring movements. Dapper has begun to make a noise almost like a hiccup or a sob, a shaky gasp with his chest heaving. Trick can almost imagine him trying to eject the metaphysical remains of possession and it almost makes him sick too. He leans in close and grips Dapper’s hands.

He almost wishes he could enjoy seeing Dapper laid low while he’s feeling fine, but he just regrets that this happens at all. Anyway, he looks so small and sick right now. It’s hard to hate someone who has the same face as you, except twice as pathetic.

“Poor lil man,” mumbles Trick. “Fuck, it’s cold up here, and quiet. I wish Dok was here. This room is lonely.”

cest-mellow asked: marvin, is everything okay downstairs?

Marvin sits in the corner with his knees drawn tight to his chest, trying to avoid the bloodstains on the floor. He’s wrapped his long brown coat around Doktor’s shoulders, his brother asleep against his side. They’re both pale with stress, but Marvin is resolute, blue magic floating slowly through his twitching fingers.

Red sits in the other corner, turned away from them, pounding his fists against the floor, bored, bored, anxious, chock-full of pent-up energy and guilt and anger. He wishes Anti had let him go in his stead.

“I think we’re okay,” murmurs Marvin.

He watches his brother warily, a certain desperation lingering in the paths of his eyes.

“I think… I’m starting to think…”

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

“M-maybe I should just take who I can… maybe I should try to escape, and come back for them… they’re so different from what I thought I remembered…”

spicydanhowell asked: that might be the best thing to do, marv. carver is so weak anti wouldn't want to make him turn back time and undo it. you could probably get dok and trick to leave with you... idk though...

Marvin nods slowly, trying to look over at Red, a low guilt curling in his tummy.

“I don’t know if I could convince any of them.” He rubs Dok’s shoulder as he groans through a nightmare. “But I don’t know when I’ll get a chance like this again.”

Anonymous asked: I can't blame you for thinking that... All or nothing is a huge risk as it is, but if only some of you get out, there might not be a second chance at getting the rest.

Marvin covers his face with his hands. “Oh, God,” he whispers. “We can’t stay here…”

Vines curl around his boots.

“But how can I leave them?”

nikkilbook asked: Red, if there was a way to stop feeling so scared, would you take it?

Red doesn’t turn his face to you.

“I know what you’re talking about,” he says.

A whisper.

“It isn’t possible. Don’t give us false hope.”

He curls slightly in on himself.

“I lied to you, you know,” he adds, softly. “I remember some things better than I said. I’ve tried to run away before. But then…”

He stares at the wall.

“It isn’t possible.”

Anonymous asked: Red, you didn't have Blue before. Maybe he's what will make all the difference now. He's magic, bro. Trust him.

Red clutches at his chest, pain welling beneath his bones like a poison.

“I can’t lose him,” he chokes out, rocking himself. “And I won’t see him in pain again! I won’t, I can’t! I have to keep them safe! To keep them safe, I have to keep them here! No, no, no, I can’t - can’t lose him…”

nikkilbook asked: But you aren’t alone this time. You have Blue, at the very least. You might even have Dok.

“Doesn’t change anything,” he cries, almost angry. “Doesn’t change anything. I could have gone. I could have! But I couldn’t give my brother up - I stayed. Power means nothing when Anti’s in your head.”

He clenches his fists, panting through his teeth.

“My power was nothing,” he groans. “My power is nothing. I am nothing - nothing, just Anti’s.”

Anonymous asked: red you need to do something about blue. he's planning to run away while anti's gone.

Red nods slowly. His face settles and sets.

He gets to his feet, glancing at the chains in the basement closet.

“Keep your brothers quiet,” he whispers to himself, closing agonized eyes. “Keep your brothers safe.”

He is a good soldier, and has been for a very long time.

florenceisfalling asked: red, what are you planning to do?

“I chained him up before… if I can just keep him a while, Anti will come home, and Blue won’t have to think anything that hurts him anymore. Just - just wash it away. I wish he would just wash it all away. He never looks at me anymore. But maybe he will if I’m good. He’d understand why I chained my twin up. He’d call me a good big brother, a good right hand. I don’t want to scare Dok, though.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, i would be on your guard when it comes to red. He might be your twin and all, but remember that he's crazy loyal to anti. I would try and take care of him first before you bolt.

Blue bites hard on his lip, staring at his brother, who seems to have gotten up to stretch. “I can’t blame him for his loyalty,” he whimpers, tears sparking in his ocean eyes. “Who knows how long he’s been abused? He doesn’t even have the fragments of good memories that I do. He deserves b-better than this.”

Anonymous asked: Red no. Anti doesn't believe in Risk vs Reward. There's only Risk and earning a punishment, but there's never any reward, only AVOIDING punishment.

“There were rewards when I was younger,” mumbles Red. “Back when he loved me.”

Anonymous asked: Wait, when the hell did you chain him up, Red?? Was it when Anti reset him? Anti couldn't be bothered to do his own dirty work?

“The - the first day we brought him home. Didn’t I? I don’t remember… I was the one chained up for the reset… I remember screaming. I didn’t know what I’d done wrong, but I knew what he was about to do to me. My little brother…”

florenceisfalling asked: be careful though- blue is powerful. he might retaliate, even though he doesn't want to hurt you, red.

A small, painful smile flickers over his mouth, his eyes curving with emotion - pride, you recognize, pride and warmth and sorrow.

“I’d expect nothing less from my Blue.”

Anonymous asked: Blue, I've been telling you since day 1 to hold back, not yet, be patient, comply, don't try anything, but you know what? Go off. I don't think this is an ideal opportunity, but it's opportunity nonetheless and it might be all you have.

Marvin lets out a deep, shaky breath, laughing a little. Carefully, he shrugs Doktor off his chest, trying to look casual as he lays him back against the wall. He’ll give him a minute more to sleep.

It’s time to go.

He’s bringing whoever he can with him.

spicydanhowell asked: red, he was considering leaving without you. you would have been tortured for that! you've got the right idea...

Red chokes, his eyes flickering wildly up to Marvin.

“Oh, without me,” he whimpers. “W-well, who can blame him? He won’t stay for me. Why would he stay for me? He’d leave me alone again…”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Blue, I think you either need to keep your distance from Red or try to get him on your side. You need each other.

“R-right,” stammers Marvin, looking up at his twin, who is standing a little strangely, shifting on his feet, his back still turned. “Right… I… I should try and get him to come with me, shouldn’t I?”

loganandoli asked: Marvin!! Reds about to chain you up!! You have to convince him that you’re not leaving or you’ll be stuck!! (Cest-mellow also warned Marvin and was added).

“What?”

Marvin pushes back against the wall, trembling, dragging himself to his feet. Knife wounds sting beneath his clothes. He stares at Red, afraid.

Red stares back, exhausted.

The chains are in the closet beside him.

“We really going to do this, heartbeat?” Marvin whispers. He tries to sound brave, but it only comes off as fragile. Stepping in front of Doktor, he prays their little brother will stay asleep. He’s so shaken up already. They can’t stay here. He can’t stay here. None of them can stay here.

“How can you not see how terrible this place is?” cries Marvin, when no answer comes from his brother. “How, how, how can you stay, and force me to stay too?”

Red is staring at the floor. His hands curl and uncurl. Grief and hurt and rage and sorrow war in his face.

“Just stay,” Red says. “And we don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t,” answers Marvin, breathing in deep. “And Jackie, Jackie, Jackie - if you don’t get out of my way, I will push you aside.”

His hands crackle like torches, simmering with blue fire. Red smiles grimly. It never reaches his eyes.

Trick is a guard, Doktor meant for support; Jameson is the fang-toothed puppy.

And Red?

Red is the attack dog.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Maybe try and take red with you first. If he goes first, the others might feel more secure and trust you with getting them out of here.

“Red,” begs Marvin, panting. “Think about what you’re doing.”

He’s trying to look intimidating. He can still talk him down from this, can’t he?

“If you would come with me, we could convince the others to go too, couldn’t we? What would Anti be able to do if we had all turned against him? We can still save ourselves, Jackie!”

“Don’t call me that,” screams Red. “You’re my twin, you’re supposed to shield me from that name!”

“I can’t lie to you anymore! This is not who you are and it never has been! I remember now! I let you find me, praying you would come alone! I thought that I could snap you out of it, if you just listened to me, even for a moment, my brother, my friend, who loved me from the day I was born. I knew that together, you and I could defeat Anti! I know we can still all be saved like that!”

Red grabs a chain from the basement door, heavy in his hands.

“Okay,” pants Marvin, circling. “Not feeling keen on the PMA. Okay, okay, take it easy.”

nikkilbook asked: Marvin, tell him a story. Something small. No matter what happens or who does what, you can at least give him back one of his good memories.

“I - I don’t remember any stories! What can I tell him about? Help me remember something!”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: How about when you were first born and you didnt have a name it was only you Jack and Jackie, you were like jackie then he wasnt alone and you two took on the world together

Marvin laughs and sobs at the same time. “That sounds wonderful! Can you imagine, just the two of us? Jackie, do you remember - when it was you and me and - and - someone else, I can’t remember, someone who loved us - you slept right across the hall from me and we would stay up so late every night, all three of us were noctural, ha. We’d be running around in the city, just the two of us, you were never far from my side - ”

“Why can’t we be like that and be Anti’s too?” cries Red. “You’re trying to run away from me!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Come up with something! There has to be some cliché that connects to you guys. Do you remember anything stupid you did together? Or remind Red of how you had his back, even after the reset!

“We always looked after each other, whenever anything came to hurt us we defended each other! That’s how we came out of the first time Anti attacked, side-by-side, back-to-back, together - ”

“We were wrong!” screams Red.

Doktor is awake by now, scrambling into the corner, terrified. He doesn’t know what to do.

“We were wrong to live like that! Wrong to fight him! It would have hurt less to surrender then!”

“Surrender then,” snarls Marvin. “Give up everything that we are, instead of letting him take it from us? You were never a coward, Jackie. Remember yourself!”

Anonymous asked: doktor, wake up and help will you?

Doktor throws his hands up, stressed out of his mind. “What do you want me to fucking do? I want Trick, I want Trick, where is he, why did Anti take him away from me?”

florenceisfalling asked: talk about trick's kid, hunter! surely you all have shared memories with him. does that help you remember? talk about your powers, the plants you can grow. what kind did you used to grow, where did you keep them? talk about watching movies together and sharing dinner and going on trips. think!

“Do you remember swinging our nephew back and forth between the two of us, laughing like nothing would ever hurt us?”

“Be quiet!”

“Do you remember blue magic and magnolias sprouting up through the ground because we finally had a third brother?”

The chain swings, swings, hard, and Marvin throws himself back against the wall to avoid the blow. Red’s face is setting, cold with the rhythm of a good fight, blocking everything else out.

“I love you so much, please - ”

Red darts forward like a mongoose, grabbing Marvin and flipping him over his waist. Marvin hits the ground hard but takes the blow resiliently, well used to his brother’s strength. Strange, the memory waking up in him - We have fought a thousand times, my brother, but I thought that was play, not practice.

Red strikes at his face and Marvin throws himself aside, only to be grabbed by the hair and dragged up to his knees. Crying out, he scrambles at his short hair and stares up at his brother, finding tears in his eyes.

“Stop talking, please,” begs Red. “You won’t convince me - I made peace with my own darkness a long time ago. I’m not a good person, Blue.”

“You could be,” answers Marvin.

“You don’t know what I’ve done. I wish Anti had left my brain so blank I forgot the sight of my own face.” He grabs Marvin’s wrist and holds up the chain.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, Marvin is going to take care of you and trick, but he needs your help right now. You have to help him calm Red down.

“Red, Red!” cries Doktor, reaching out for him. “What’s happening, please stop!”

Red looks up, alarmed by the sound of his distress, and Marvin takes the opportunity to attack, grabbing Red’s wrist. Red screams as heat races through his hand and arm and he drops Marvin, staggering away, clutching at his burned hand.

“Stop, stop!” cries Doktor, curling in on himself. “Stop, don’t hurt each other!”

florenceisfalling asked: red, listen to him. please listen to him, don't try to fight.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” screams Red, beginning to hyperventilate.

nikkilbook asked: Come on, Astrifer. Find yourself

“I’m so tired!” screams Red. “I don’t know who I am, but I don’t want to be him anymore! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! Anti, please come back! I’m afraid, master, I’m afraid!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, you need to calm him down. Calm Red down or y'all are going to get hurt!

Doktor staggers to his feet and reaches out to grab Red, pulling him protectively away from Blue.

“Henrik, keep away from him,” pants Marvin.

His eyes have begun to glow through the shadows of the basement.

“Go get Trick and tell him we are leaving. Let me handle him.”

Doktor clutches tighter to Red, backing, backing away.

spicydanhowell asked: red, chain him up, shut him up, and then you can rest. it's going to be okay. just do as you're told and you'll be safe

“Yes, I have to stop him, I have to stop him, I have to keep him safe - ”

He drops his hands from his hair and shoves Doktor towards the stairs. “Go wait upstairs,” he commands. “Now, little one.”

Doktor knows where he lies in the hierarchy and he is obedient. He turns to run up the stairs - but can’t help but pause halfway up, panting, praying they won’t hurt each other.

“Marvin, stand down,” orders Red, straightening up.

“Fuck you!” shouts Marvin. “Fuck you, Anti!”

Anonymous asked: Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh no... ok, think carefully, Marvin! How can you convince Jackie? He's first and foremost the protector of his brothers right now, right? Including Anti. Maybe you can swing it like if you all leave, Anti is safer because he doesn't have to watch out for you all? It might be better to get Jackie away while still loyal to Anti so you can work on helping him back to himself safely. And if you have to run, run, ok? You only have so much time while Anti is distracted.

“Jackie, listen to them, listen to - ”

“I can’t! You know that!”

“Just for one fucking second, Jackie, listen to me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Marvin screams rage, striking his hand against the wall and leaving a black mark upon its surface.

florenceisfalling asked: trick, you might have to come downstairs and lend a hand. things aren't going well between the boys.

“Wh-what?” he stammers.

You find him and Dapper awake, sitting at the side of the bed, curled up between blankets together. They look like they were having a good time, even though Dapper is pale and wan.

“What’s going on? I can’t leave puppy’s side. Is… is Doktor okay?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, come on. Work through this TOGETHER. You're BROTHERS.

“That is not my brother!” howls Marvin. “That is just the shell that Anti left behind! You killed my Jackie! You killed him! You killed my best friend!”

Blue light explodes through the dungeon like a flash of lightning. Red falls back, shocked by the onslaught of light and color, overwhelming.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Screw it. Do what you need to, blue dude.

Marvin surges forward like a thunderstorm. He is faster than Jackie, slighter and more coordinated; he grabs his injured wrist out of the air and squeezes, eyes burning. Red yelps and drives his knee up into Marvin’s stomach, sending him reeling back.

“I’m more powerful than you are,” hisses Blue, fire burning along his fingers, roses snarling their way out of the concrete floor of the basement. “You really want to keep dancing, love?”

“I’m not afraid of you or death,” replies Red coldly, picking up his chain.

Anonymous asked: Dok, maybe see if you can get all the way upstairs, with Trick and Dapper? The basement seems very ugly, you might want to get further away.

“Wh-why won’t they stop?” moans Doktor, covering his face with his hands. “M-make them stop.”

Anonymous asked: Didn't doktor go back up the stairs? So yeah I'd say he's relatively okay

Trick gets up from the blankets, leaving Dapper with a pat on the head, and makes his way to the top of the stairs, clutching his gun tight.

“Deutsch?” he calls, scared. “It’s Trick, I’m right here. Everything okay?”

“Trick,” returns the familiar voice, and Trick’s blood lights up with adrenaline at the fear there. “Trick, Trick. I want this to stop.” He pulls himself to his feet and drags himself to the stairs.

Anonymous asked: No Henrik/Dok don’t go upstairs!!! Please don’t go up there, Trick will shoot anyone who goes up the stairs!! (An anon and nikkilbook sent similar warnings and were added)

Whimpering, Doktor falls back down at the bottom of the stairs, his grief tangible from fourteen steps away. “I can’t even go to my twin? I want to go lie down in the nest and be safe.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, take Dapper downstairs, you won't be leaving him, but the others need you.

“Wh-what? Anti told me to stay up here! I’m supposed to be protecting him!”

Frantic, he glances back towards the room, where Dapper’s head is poking out of the door, his eyes wide and curious.

Anonymous asked: HELL YEAH, KICK HIS ASS, MARV!

Blood-strike, fury-smell like electricity in the air. Marvin lashes out like a panther, a clawed hand reaching for Red’s face, remembering the taste of his own power.

Red kicks at his knee, sending him to the ground, and grabs him by the throat. Marvin shrieks loud enough to disorient Red, beginning to feel nauseous from the thousand sensations and emotions bearing down on him. He drops Marvin and his brother is up again, leaving a blow in his stomach, sending him reeling back, gagging -

He thinks he hears something like static, but Anti is not close enough to stop this.

Anonymous asked: Jesus christ, Anti only leave for a bit and everything goes to shit

Dapper crawls up into his bed, afraid, and closes his eyes, praying to his brother for him to come back soon.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, Dok is trying to come upstairs. DO NOT SHOOT.

“No, no, don’t,” Trick begs, his hands shaking around the gun. “Don’t, Dok, Anti told me to shoot and I - I will. I don’t know if you’re you. Just stay down there, bro. It’s going to be okay.”

Anonymous asked: The three little ones, calm down. It's okay. Blue is having a little trouble settling in, so he's a bit angry right now. Red is handling it. Trick, can you bring Dapper to the top of the stairs, and Doktor, you can sit at the bottom, maybe bring some blankets from the nest? Then everyone is following orders, everyone is safe, and everyone is together. Anti will come when he can to fix it, and you three won't be in trouble.

“There’s some sense,” breathes Trick, setting down his gun. “Dok, I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the room and approaches Dapper, who watches him trustingly - this isn’t the first time he’s been handed over to an older brother’s care, and he’s used to being casually ordered around, so he doesn’t even flinch when Trick scoops him up, blankets and all, laughing a little, and carries him over to the top of the stairs. Trick sits with his feet on the last stair and Dapper mimics him, sitting against his shoulder, rubbing his face, starting to feel better.

“There we go.” Trick smiles and sighs out a shaky breath. “We’re all okay, right? We’re all okay. Red is handling it. No worries. I got my brothers. We’re all okay.”

Anonymous asked: marvin!!!! blue!! no! anti hurts his brothers. you are not like anti!! stop hurting jackie!

“Maybe I am! He washed me away, remember? I don’t even know who Marvin is! And I certainly don’t know who you are, Red!”

Red pants hard, staggering away from him, but Marvin keeps coming.

spicydanhowell asked: trick, don't move, doktor, lie down and close your eyes. just breathe, red... stay with us ok? you're gonna be ok. you're the big brother.

“I’m not the big brother,” he groans. “I haven’t been in a long time. Just the commander. Just Anti’s alpha dog. I’m just fooling myself. I want this to stop - stop - stop.” He grips at his hair, moaning.

nikkilbook asked: Red. The other day, when you were so overwhelmed. Blue knew what to do. Even when you were young, did Anti ever do that for you? Or did he just leave you to figure it out yourself?

“It’s not Anti’s fault he can’t help me when I get like this,” chokes Red, slamming against the wall. “Not his fault I can’t t-take this much sensation - not his fault the boy made him like he was a monster, with the shrieking and the glitching, the color and the pain - I want him to come home, please!”

Anonymous asked: STOP!! You're just going to hurt each other, and if you keep going Anti is just gonna punish everyone!

“Let’s be honest!” shouts Marvin. “We’re already fucked anyway!”

He swings a hand into the air and the rosebushes explode like a wall of thorns, crawling up Red’s legs. He screams as they bite into his calves, and a low sob chokes its way from Marvin’s throat, backing away from the sight of his own power.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he gasps. “It has to be like this.”

musical-in-theory asked: Red you are a fantastic person making the best out of a really shitty situation. You don’t have to do this. For once you have control over what you do right here, right now. What’ll you choose, hero?

“No, no,” sobs Red, thorns growing up his body. “Look what I’ve become. Does this look like a hero to you? I can’t even save my own twin from himself.”

Marvin is backing away, distressed. He waves his hand again, trying to get the roses to stop rising, but they don’t answer him.

Anonymous asked: red. listen to blue. if you don't, anti will torture him for hurting you. he'll torture you for not succeeding. and he'll continue to torture all of you, over little things and big things, for the rest of your lives. this is your chance to protect your brothers.

“He’ll torture me if I stay, torture me if I go.”

“No,” cries Marv, waving his hand again, increasingly frantic. “That’s not true. We can keep each other safe!”

spicydanhowell asked: he's injured, red. he can't fight you. get him under control or anti is going to hurt you much worse than blue ever could... i don't want that to happen to you red... just keep him quiet and keep him safe until anti comes back.

“Please,” whispers Red. He tears with shaking hands at the rose thorns on his chest, struggling to breathe. “Please. Let’s do that. Blue, Blue. Marvin. Just st-stay with me. Please. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, fuck,” pants Marvin, reaching forward to tear at the thorns. Blood blooms on his hands, and the roses keep coming. “Don’t say that, don’t…”

nikkilbook asked: But is here really safe? How is this better than out there? How is sleeping above a dungeon and below a torturer safe? How is starving yourself to keep them fed safe? If the only way you can keep them protected is to beat them to keep them in line, how on earth is that better than even the slightest chance at escape?

Red bursts into sobs, collapsing. Marvin cries out as he falls into the thick carpet of thorns, reaching out to grab him, tearing his own arms up.

“I hate living like this,” admits Red, clutching at his brother’s hands.

“I know,” chokes Marvin. “I know you do. Oh, fuck, my poor big brother.”

“I can’t breathe!”

“Calm down, calm down! It’s okay, Jackie, it’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Marvin has never once told you that you have to earn his love or trust. He's giving it to you because he cares about you and will never stop caring about you. Anti is the only one with limits because he doesn't care about you. He can't. Go with Marvin. Marvin will help you no matter what! You have to let him

“Yes, yes,” Marvin pants, pulling Red up from the thorns. “I - I shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re going to leave me alone.”

Marvin closes his eyes tight.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Unless you come with me.”

loganandoli asked: Red. No, Jackie. Do you remember the first time you ever saved someone? Be it a bank robbery, a mugging, anything. Do you remember their wide eyes and smiles when they realized a hero has come to rescue them? Do you remember the feeling of joy and pride to know that you saved so many people? That you left a permanent mark of safety on your home? If you can remember any of that, realize that Anti is making you do the exact opposite of what you have been working on doing for so long.

“I remember my brothers, sitting against my chest, around my feet, under my arm, trusting me to protect them… now look what’s become of them…”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Go ahead marvin get angry use the power you were given

“I shouldn’t have done this,” Marvin sobs. “You called me kind, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

nikkilbook asked: Who cares what a hero looks like. You’re Jackie. That’s all that matters.

Marvin yanks him out of the thorns, and the roses choke and die, having served their purpose to him. They collapse together at the foot of the stairs, panting hard, clutching each other’s arms.

Clutching each other tight.

Marvin’s heart is shaking like it will shatter. Red cries, ashamed but too tired to care.

“Please,” he begs. “Let me save you.”

“You’ve forgotten what salvation is,” whispers Marvin.

He moves forward and knocks their heads gently together. They breathe in sync, clutching at each other’s sleeves.

“I love you,” Marvin mumbles, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. But we don’t have time for this, my friend. I’m going, now. Are you coming with me, or will you stay?”

“It doesn’t matter,” murmurs Red, lying against the floor, exhausted. “We can’t get away.”

“I can’t try to convince you any longer. Choose.”

Red stares up at him. Stares at you. Stares at his own scarred, burnt, wretched wrists.

“You’re the one with a choice to make,” whispers Jackie, drawing back. “I can’t get up, I need time to rest, and I know that even if I want to go with you now, Anti will make me Red again when he catches us. And he will, Marvin. He will catch us. So choose, Blue - Stay with me and we can look after each other, even in a place like this. Or go. I won’t fight you.”

Marvin stares at him. Red stares back.

“But we will never see each other again,” he finishes softly.

He closes his eyes. Leaves the choice in his brother’s hands.

Marvin is gone the next time he opens his eyes.

Jackie McLoughlin smiles, laughs, and swallows hard, letting his head fall against the bloodied floor, tears dripping steady from his starry eyes. He waits patiently to be Red again. He’s never a hero for long.

Anonymous asked: Oh, Jackie. :'( You're breaking my heart, man. But I know what an impossible situation you're in. I know you're doing what you can in the aftermath of everything Anti's put you through. I recognize all your bravery and strength. I recognize all your gentleness and love. And know that even now, and even if Anti makes you Red again, and no matter what, you are wholeheartedly and entirely a hero to your brothers and to all of us. This is not how you will end.

Jackie stares up at you, a smile flickering across his lips, and then grief again, and then joy, and then…

Tired, tired, tired.

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart,” he tells you, low and earnest. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m very… tired of… of being alone.”

Blood runs sluggishly from his wrist and his legs. He shakes, pants, cries soft and quiet.

musical-in-theory asked: Jackie we will never give up on you. Is there anything you want to tell us or even Red while you’re still you?

“Oh, what a thought,” he murmurs. “A good idea. But my head is full of cotton just now. If you would please just… just try to keep him company.”

Jackie lays his head down on the ground. “Doesn’t matter who a person is all alone, you know… we are the people we love, and the people who love us.”

His voice trembles.

“And I am no one at all.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Be strong, Red....you will get through this.

“Forgive me,” he says.

So quiet you can barely hear him.

Something drips slowly nearby. His limbs have gone very still. His mouth is dry and empty.

“I think I’m going to sleep now,” he mumbles, closing his tired eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep. Thank you… forgive me.”

cest-mellow asked: marvin can’t you carry him? don’t you have a spell that can make jackie easy to take with you?? don’t leave him there!!

“Please, don’t say that! He made his choice, I - please, if you beg me, I would stay with him, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Even if I love him! Even if I can’t bear to leave him alone! Oh, please, don’t tell me the truth. He made his choice and even if I could carry him, his heart would not come with me.”

Marvin is crying, but it does not matter. He tears up the stairs, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Now I can only hope to get myself and my little ones free, whichever of them we can convince to come with us.”

The screen glitches softly at the corners, a harsh buzz rising in your ears.

“Anti is coming,” whispers Marvin, taking a deep breath. “We go now, and pray to God that we can get away. I don’t care about the chances anymore. I’m not going to give in. We’re going. We’re going. We’re running, right now. And I am getting my brothers away.”

The buzzing reaches a horrible shriek and your whole screen bursts into glitching. Across the screen, those all-too-familiar green words are flickering.

“Ĭ̢̜͝ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟v̨̖̪͔̋̌̋̈́e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ṙ̻ l͈̯̾̀e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟t͙́ t͙́h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉t͙́ h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉p̠͖̠̈́͋p̠͖̠̈́͋e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟n͕̰̳̏͝͡.”

 End Section Five of Chapter One.

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

[morganeuk]

The Doctor & the Librarian. (Sherlock AU)

Part 4: Want to meet?

(Read Part 3: The British Government interferes on Tumblr)

(Read Part 2: Brainy is the new sexy on Tumblr)

(Read Part 1: Kissing is not required on Tumblr)

Summary: After talking online with a flirty doctor from London, Sherlock - librarian at Oxford University - can't stop thinking about him! It won't do! Fortunately, Lestrade asked his help on a case. But poor Sherlock can't work with Anderson... don't worry, he knows the perfect substitute!

In his brother's private sedan, Sherlock remained silent for the hour-long drive back to London. His brother, content that he was back to a somewhat 'normal' version of himself whatever the reason, respected the privacy of his thoughts. He was overall satisfied with his younger brother's relationship with DI Lestrade. The NSY officer was now asking for Sherlock's assistance on a more regular basis, forcing the librarian to skip work on occasion.  Of course, as Mycroft was a schoolmate with the dean of the university, Sherlock's job would never be in jeopardy as long as he wanted it. The older Holmes' end goal was of course that Sherlock ceases playing at being a librarian! The thing with Doctor Watson may also become a positive influence in his life, possibly even bring him back to a more active role against our enemies...  

Once in front of Lauriston Garden, the crime scene where Lestrade is expecting him, Sherlock leaps out of Mycroft's car as soon as he can. Even though he wasn't expecting any thanks from his younger brother, the government man was irritated by his sibling's attitude. But, as usual, he brushed it off and instructs his chauffeur to continue to his club and let the DI deal with him.

A vast police perimeter was surrounding a disaffected building. Once beautiful flats, the edifice was now abandoned and surrounded by junk.  Passing under the yellow tape, Lestrade's assistant Donovan spots him at once.  "What are you doing here, Freak? Shouldn't you been sorting books in a basement somewhere?" Sally Donovan despised Sherlock to a fault. His condescending attitude towards NSY and the fact that he was nearly always bloody right, was a personal affront to her.

The hostility was cut short by the arrival of Lestrade who motioned the young man to follow him inside. "Hi Sherlock, thanks for getting here so quick... How's village life?" The DI, still wanting to convince Sherlock to return to the city, was always teasing the detective about Oxford.

"It's as charming as always, Geof, how's your adoring wife?" the amateur detective replied with an innocent smile.  He knew perfectly well that Lestrade's wife was having affair after affair, despite Lestrade's wish to save their marriage. Sherlock knew he was treading on dangerous territory, but the teasing about Oxford and his 'desk job' was getting old so... Fair game. Lestrade, not mentioning that he effectively found his wife with one of her co-workers a few days before and that his bloody name is Greg, turns on his heel and strides toward the entrance of the building. "Who's on forensic?" Sherlock asks before moving a step further.

"... Anderson." The DI sighs heavily "Could you please just this once try to ignore his shortcomings and work together!"  He knows that Anderson and Holmes are far from being friends, but he had hoped... But it was too late, Sherlock was already on the defensive, not wanting to deal with the man.

"He won't work with me, and you know it!"

"Stop nagging him about everything and he will!" An exasperated Lestrade retorted, finally losing his temper.

"He's useless, I can't use any of the photographs he takes, not a single one of his ridiculous analyses... His 'work' is utter garbage!" Of course, Anderson chose that moment to walk out of the building and overheard everything.  The loathing between them was mutual and obvious to everyone around them.

It won't do... Sherlock sighs internally.

"Do as you want, but you'll have to deal with Anderson, I have no one else." and the DI went inside, leaving Holmes outside.

Argggg! GOD! This is a good one, a serial killer I'm certain of it... But Anderson... I can't do it... But I have no other option, I need a medical opinion... A flash of a blond doctor, not remotely annoying, and cleverer than most passes in front of his eyes. Taking out his phone, he texts without even thinking.

I'm in London. Want to meet? - SH

The reply comes quickly.

Sherlock? - JW

Know anyone else with this phone number? - SH

Sorry, stupid question. ;-) - JW

When? - JW

Now. 3 Lauriston Garden. Ask for Lestrade. - SH

Lauriston Garden? Is this a restaurant? Who's Lestrade? - JW

Sherlock? - JW

But it was too late, Sherlock was already inside, following the DI up a circular staircase. A bickering Anderson tried to block the way and slow them down, not wanting Sherlock anywhere his corpse. After a few long minutes, they were finally able to access the third floor where an apartment was highly illuminated by huge spotlights. Before entering the room, Lestrade slowly and carefully puts on a coverall and gloves before asking Sherlock to do the same.  With an exasperated look, the young man advanced towards the corpse, being careful to not touch anything.

"I can give you two minutes," Lestrade explains, knowing that bringing an amateur consultant on a crime scene can cause him problems.

Ignoring the DI, the young man murmurs dismissively "May need longer..."

"Her name’s Jennifer Wilson according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here long. Some kids found her."

In the middle of the room, Sherlock's focus turns to the woman in pink. Everything in pink. What an awful gaudy shade of pink, Sherlock mused, followed by I wonder if John, Dr. Watson, is coming... Distracted by the idea of John being there with him, he can't restrain his instinct to snap at the policemen around him."Shut up!"

An offended Lestrade protested, "I didn’t say anything!"

"You were thinking. It’s annoying." Sherlock, closing himself to anything outside the body in front of him, stays silent for many minutes while Lestrade checked his watch anxiously.

From the bottom of the stairs, they heard Donovan below. "Boss! Someone here, he said he's looking for you! It's about the Freak!"

Sherlock's heart somersaults... John!

Less than half an hour before, John was relaxing in his flat. Drinking tea and eating biscuits Mrs. Hudson made earlier. He was trying to focus on his book but it was at no avail. Last night conversation with William, no Sherlock!, was still fresh in his mind.  Oh My God... I can't believe it... He was actually there, at the end of whatever connects computer together! He texted with me and let me flirt with him without evaporating in the night. Sherlock... More precisely Sherlock Holmes. An unusual name, for an unusual man... He discovers little on the Internet, but enough to convince him that the name was real. He was listed as a librarian in the university directory. There he is, in black and white, 'Sherlock Holmes, BChem MLIS' . He found two blogs under the name, one about data mining - the concept of being able to program a computer to actually read and analyze a text if he understands it correctly! - and one about the science of deduction.  That was different... but he reminds himself how quickly the librarian deduced he was an ICU doctor.  John was wondering what else the man would be able to find if they meet. Curiously, he was unable to find an image of him, there was nothing that could tell him what the man looked like.

As he puts down his mug, his phone chimes with an elegant group of violin notes. Taken by surprise, his mug misses the table and crashes to the floor. It was Sherlock's ringtone! Putting away the thought of how pathetic to have a special ringtone for a man you never meet... He opens his phone.

I'm in London. Want to meet? - SH

His positive reply was instantaneous as a brilliant YES crossed his mind! He took five minutes to brush his teeth and refresh is after-shave, changed his t-shirt for a nicer shirt and flew down the stairs to find a cab.  The less than 5 miles trip to Lauriston Garden (Where the hell am I going?) was done in record time as John offered a generous bonus to the cabbie. Less than 25 minutes after Sherlock's mysterious text, he was in front of... an old decrepit building with half a dozen police cars and yellow tape everywhere.  He walks up to a woman who was managing the scene, phone in hand. "Excuse me, officer, I'm looking for..." John reads the text again, "Lestrade?"

"Who are you? Why do you want to talk to the DI? Are you a bloody journalist? We have nothing to declare for now!" She turns her back to John and starts to talk on her phone.

"I am Doctor John Watson. This was the instruction that I received, to ask for Lestrade. Maybe it would help you if I told you that I am here to see Sherlock Holmes?" John was unsure of what was happening, but he was certain that he would fight for the chance to meet the man he has dreamed of for the last three days!

"Holmes? What do you want with the 'Freak'?" Donovan was now surveying John with a curious gaze. "Do you know him? Are you a... friend?" The mere idea of Holmes having a friend brings a laughing tone to Donovan's voice.

Without knowing the woman, the doctor instantly hates her with a passion. What's her problem?  He decided to omit the fact that he has never seen the man and simply reply "Yes, I am a friend and he texted me to join him here. If you are unable to help me, I can talk with your superior, DI Lestrade?." He used what he called his captain voice to snap the woman out of her sarcastic attitude.

Donovan, out of arguments and under the influence of John's commanding voice, lifted the yellow tape and leads Watson to the base of the stairs, then yells for Lestrade. She shows Watson the stairs and simply muttered "third floor," before leaving him alone.  

Looking at the flights of stairs, John screams inside. Of course, it's on the third floor.  His leg was doing better and he had left his walking stick at home, but fifty-ish steps... that was a challenge. Putting his hand on the rail, he starts the ascension that will bring him to, he hopes, Sherlock Holmes.

At Donovan's announcement, Sherlock, to Lestrade's astonishment, was having difficulty containing himself. He jumped up from the floor where he was nearly sprawled on, removed any lint on his already spotless coat, passed a nervous hand in his curly hair, and withdrew further in the room. Not knowing what to do... What's happening? Is this the man Mycroft mentioned? If so, this is going to be funny!  

John, now on the landing of the third floor, inhaled and exhaled profoundly, trying to relax and compose himself. He walks in the room and, seeing Lestrade first, he was impressed by the stature of the man, his silver fox look, his smart and cocky smile but... he was also disappointed.  The man, disregarding the protective kit he was wearing, didn't have the elegant and posh demeanour he imagined. He was a nice looking man and seemed friendly but John's gut didn't react at all. He was a regular bloke with whom he can go to the pub for a beer or two, but nothing more... no 'sparkles'. Kind of sad, his expectations were maybe too high, he extends his hand to the man. "Hi, I'm John Watson, nice to meet you...".

Lestrade politely takes John's hand before putting the poor man out of his misery. "Hi, John, nice to meet you, too.  I'm DI Greg Lestrade... You're here to meet Sherlock if I'm right?" and he turns towards Sherlock who had frozen in a corner of the room where the doctor can't see him. John, following Lestrade's gaze, understands his mistake and finds Sherlock's eyes that were gazing at him reverently. Hypnotized by the grey and blue eyes that were watching him, he registered unconsciously the tall elegant frame, the soft curly hair...

Oh God, I'm in deep trouble.

Read the rest of the story here! http://archiveofourown.org/series/770607

[102818arcvd]

PLOT BUNNIES MASTERPOST

GENERAL/MISCELLANEOUS:

You’re walking home and it’s late. I can't just let you walk home like that so I’m walking a bit behind you so I can make sure you’re safe, but that doesn’t mean I’ll admit that soft tidbit of facts.

‘I can’t avoid you. Why do you keep showing up in places where I’m at and… Are you-? You’re not-? You can’t be stalking me . . . are you? Are you sure you’re not?’

Jinsoo has a bad habit of taking dares and bets with enough coercing even if they are not in the best option for him. your muse had dared him // or you’re involved in a dare that he has been tasked with. 

Jinsoo has been coming by and feeding this stray animal for weeks, only to find out that it was your pet.

We’re both waiting for the bus and you forgot your umbrella but uh– why are you standing so close to me? . . . Are you purposefully trying to stand under my umbrella? This is embarrassing . . just take it, God.

I Tried to get the candy bar that didn’t drop out of the vending machine and now my hand is stuck. can u help me or I’m going to die here… At least send my regards to my family, they might have to cremate me aND the vending machine together. (x)

You’re so drunk that you literally got onto/into my (vehicle) thinking I was a taxi and you refuse to get off, So, I just end up driving you. 

Your muse and Jinsoo both decide to deal with paranormal situations, ghost hunting ig ? i dunno i just want cute talks of all things paranormal stuff, legends, folklore, conspiracy theories-- Going to abandoned places and investigating!! Bringing a camera and equipment, Buzzfeed unsolved type antics!! Going to the haunted forest in wonseo and getting lost!! give me please

‘You fell asleep on my shoulder and I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable but you look so cute and angelic as you sleep and I don’t have the heart to wake you up. No. Wait-- we aren’t a couple, this isn’t what it looks like– Stop it.’

‘You’re a complete stranger but I can tell you have a fear of our current task whatever it may be and I’m attempting to be comforting and take your mind away from the fear by distracting you with conversation and such.’

Jinsoo has a few different things he’s afraid of Spiders,Heights, And open water due to a near-death experience when he was a child. Idea of possibly the other person finding out. Teasing him on it or possibly helping him overcome such fears. He doesn’t like to open up about things about himself unless he’s close to you though so keep this in mind, we can plot some ideas on how they find out!

Muse A is this fairly popular (online persona) and Muse B ran into them and recognized them. when Muse B offered Muse A a handshake, Muse A gave them a hug and followed their (social media) so now they dm each other and every time Muse B visits their events/live streams/ect. Muse A always excitedly greets them and they feel so special.

I meant to grab the popcorn, not your crotch, sorry. 

Muse A Sits beside Muse B In a theatre and Muse B is terrified of horror-- Muse B Freaks out partway through and grabs for Muse A's hand repeatedly and Muse A doesn't complain, Because Fuck.. They're really cute .. 

Muse A is working/chilling at (Location) and witnesses Muse B get stood up and Muse A goes over to make sure Muse B is okay but-- Oh Jeez . . . are you crying? Uhm, Wait , just -- ...

muse a's puppy has a major problem with behaving while on a leash. while out on a walk, the dog takes off after a squirrel or something. enter muse b, who manages to intercept the beast and now the dog likes them better.

You steal my parking spot all the time and I was just heading out to leave a strongly worded note under your windshield wiper but oh no you're hot I saw you trying to hit the 'door close' button in the elevator but I made it in and then I pushed every single button to make you later for work, but now we're stuck in this fucking elevator as it stops at every single floor and I don't know what to say other than 'you started it!' 

Theres a Warning alert because of recent crimes (small to serial killer? whichever) and I'm/You're scared to walk home, so we've been walking home together since.

we're in the waiting room at the vet (groomers or whatever) and my dog keeps whimpering and tugging to go over to your cat/dog and I keep apologizing because my dog just loves everyone seriously

We both like the same person and I’m jealous, so by default, I just don’t like you at least 99% more than before.

We’ve always been partners in crime, best friends till the end, ride or die- but you’ve been spending a lot of time around this new friend and I’m getting way more jealous than I should because I don’t want to lose you.’

FAMILY/FRIENDS THREADS:

‘You and I always get mistaken for siblings and- no, we aren’t? Let’s just roll with it anyway though.’

‘you’re a family member or friend w/e that I drifted away from because you don’t really support anything I do in life and always get preachy about my opinions, actions, and beliefs and now I just try to avoid you every time you want to see me because it’s awkward’

You really like my brother and so you’re asking me to help you but uh… ? I’ve never dated . . . how would I know….

‘character b drifted from their friend (character a) but when they were reunited, one or both of them changed too much’

‘used-to-be strangers who bonded over a mutual enemy’

‘ex-enemies who are now bffs attached at the hip’

'saltmates (friends who bond over their mutual dislike of things) ’

'character b pretended to be character a’s significant other to get creeps to leave them alone and now they’re close friends’

'friends who always seem to find trouble and danger together’

'character a is always pushing character b to do/be better’

'character b is the only person who can talk character a through their panic episodes’

'We used-to-be best friends until character a left character b for new friends’

'friends who bring out the worst in each other (or the best) ’

'they met on social media as teenagers and they’re still close friends’

'We’ve been pen pals/internet friends for a bit and hey, I’m in your area, so let’s meet up?’

“I know I’m the one who suggested we watch a scary movie, but now I can’t sleep. Can I sleep in your room?” (preferably your muse !! Jinsoo is a bit fearless with these things)

CLASS/WORK THREADS:

you keep finding Jinsoo’s origami around and, finding it interesting and also being skilled in (talent) you leave (said item) where his frogs are and somehow it had become a habit regularly, you don’t know each other but tend to always leave the items and maybe words for each other that turn into letters and become friendly penpals of somesort.

you copied off of me and got mad when you got a bad score while I got a good one.  you’re just so frustrated because how the hell does that even happen and damn, I seem pretty pleased with myself because I intentionally marked answers wrong and fixed them later so you would stop copying off of me but the teacher figured that I should tutor you and I’m mad that I have to waste my time on a cheater.

'We’re related / Peers in (Competitive Enviornment) and I have an attitude with you but only because I’m really just envious of you.’

'You’re someone I literally can not stand with every fiber in my body for whatever reason. Who in heaven or hell keeps pairing us together for tasks?’

bonding solely via eye contact over that annoying person in our class that we’re both slowly becoming more and more exasperated about.

 you came into the store i work at looking for something and i had no idea where it was so we bonded over this impromptu scavenger hunt and now you’re always out shopping for something just to see me.

while waiting outside our classroom i asked what the homework was to which you replied "we had homework!?" and now we always wait outside the classroom together,  also you always copy my homework

In (said store) and Muse A Is struggling to reach something, So Muse B comes over to help.

Muse B is a new student / Transfer / visitor to the college and is completely lost as well as horrible at directions, So when Muse A comes by to help-- they end up doing The Most(TM)

NEIGHBOR/ROOMMATE THREADS:

Hanging out and Power outage causes them to have dinner by candlelight; joking about it being romantic

Fighting over the thermostat settings.

You’re a (friend/Neighbor) and something is making noises from the closet but you’re terrified, so I go to investigate the strange noises coming from the closet only to find that a cat had climbed in through your open window and was trying to break free from its encloseted prison.

You keep getting my neighbour to let you inside because I refuse to let you in, can you go home? 

‘you accidentally shipped this weird thing to my apartment and I’m returning it and uh– what the hell is that my pet inside your house…???’

‘You’ve been playing guitar in the hall right outside my apartment door for a while now and its 3AM and I’m exhausted, I have a test tomorrow at 9AM- and I’m contemplating going to beat your ass, shut the fuck up.’

'We are neighbours and you always are so loud so late– stomping around and making so much sound- loud as hell… and I used to get mad and be grumpy as fuck and always go over to yell at you but lately, its been strangely quiet and Maybe I miss it? And- Is that crying? are you crying? That’s it, I’m going over.’

i live downstairs from you and your sink pipe has burst and now it's leaking into my apartment so i go upstairs, knock on your door, and you open it soaking wet so i help you fix it while also trying not to get distracted by the fact that your shirt is now see through

ROMANTIC  THREADS:

I suggested we play spin the bottle so i could kiss you, but now everyone else is kissing you except me and im highkey getting pissed off now,, :/

I suggested we go to the beach but everyone is checking you out in your swimsuit and now i'm jealous, but i can’t say anything because we’re not even dating.

You have a crush on me for some odd reason and always come to watch me during baseball but I’m pretty dense and don’t realize it and so I genuinely think you want to play baseball with me.

You confessed to me before I went to study abroad in high school and I never replied properly– I had forgotten about it till now.

'I asked you to help me with these topics because I didn’t understand them- But honestly, I think you’re stunning and I just want your attention on me for just a minute. Look at me for now.

'we were each others wingman/wingwoman for some time but now I’m starting to realize that I might be kind of into you and I’m confused. When did that happen? Shit.’

[bbyboybrock--archived]

The Box [Part 2] (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* PART 2 OF THE BOXXXXXX (please and thank you 🥺) [Read Part 1 of the Box here]

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,536

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, angsty??, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship, mention of sex, manipulation

Masterlist

It would be my luck that a global pandemic that resulted in the world shutting down for two weeks would happen right after I got kidnapped. At first, I thought that I was lucky. The guys couldn’t move to Hawaii anymore, which means I could probably escape. Then I found out that the whole moving to Hawaii thing was a joke. They were just moving to a house with a backyard so tropical that it looks like Hawaii. I should have known that they wouldn’t just abandon their lives in Los Angeles like that. Especially with Sam and Jake dating Kat and Tara, who were going to stay here.

They still decided to move during the lockdown. Which worked out in their favor, if I’m being completely honest; Sam, Colby, and Jake got a big moving van for their bigger stuff because they lived in the same building and could share the space. That gave Colby more room in his car for me. I got put into the trunk because everyone decided that it was less suspicious than Colby driving around with me blindfold in the passenger seat. They didn’t want me to know how to get to the new house or the address. For a group of guys who collectively share one brain cell, they’re not stupid when it comes to committing a felony. I’m pretty sure Colby drove around longer than he needed to just to throw off my sense of direction and how far away we are from the apartment.

Two weeks turned into three months of this bullshit lockdown. I almost got lucky when Sam broke his back. I was left Corey and Jake and I thought would be easy because I could appeal to their sympathetic side. Sadly, that didn’t work. I was halfway out before they caught on and dragged me back to Colby’s room.

I say Colby’s room, even though it’s our room because sometimes I don’t feel like I belong here. At least, not at first. Colby moved in some of my stuff into the room so I would feel at home. But being taken here against my will, and finding out that Colby stalked me before we met, takes out of the homely feeling of living with your boyfriend. But the more I'm stuck here, the more it starts to slowly feel like home.

I will say that I’m glad that Colby hasn’t forced himself on me. He understands the gravity of the situation and isn’t making it worse. I now get monitored internet access, which I didn’t have before, and I’m allowed to make YouTube videos now. Colby edits them to make sure I don’t upload subliminal messages. He’s also got me a lot of hobbies that don’t require the internet or social media to keep me occupied while he works and leaves the house. He got me a Nintendo switch with a few games. He put it on parental mode so I can’t go on twitter or anything. He’s been getting me art supplies and stuff so I can be creative. If I want to get anything with my money, I just tell him and he either orders it for me with my card or watches me shop.

If I’m being completely honest, this isn’t as bad as I made it out to be at first. While I mostly don’t feel like this is my home at first, the more I stay here the more it feels like it is becoming my home. I almost don’t want to leave. If the people in my life before Colby gave up so easily when I started talking to them less, then they weren’t really in my life in the first place. My parents didn’t like the idea of me moving to LA when I was 18, but I wanted to be an actress so I left. It was almost like they were rooting for me to fail every time I called home with news about failed auditions. They were happy when I did land roles, but they would always remind me that it didn’t mean I was going to make it. My friends back home were even less supportive, never believed that I was going to make in the first place. I’m pretty sure one of them started a rumor that I was a porn star just to make ends meet. Maybe Colby coming into my life was for the best.

At least I’m not stuck with just the boys 24/7. Tara and Kat would come over every once in a while to hang out with their boyfriends, and I quote, “to give me a break from dealing with the testosterone.” There have been a few times when the whole friend group got together for a party. Those were fun. Despite all the limitations, this situation isn’t all too bad.

“Hey babe, I’m back and I got you some stuff,” Colby says as he walks into the living room. I don’t have to be confined to Colby’s room anymore with a chain on my ankle. I have an anklet that shocks me if I get too close to the edge of the property. It sounds scary and a but I know he does it because he loves me. I don’t really want to leave the house anyway, with the pandemic still going on out there.

“Oh yay! I’ll wait for you to get out of the shower.” I save my spot in animal crossing and continue playing while Colby goes to decontaminate himself from the outside world.

Five minutes later Colby comes back out of the shower in sweats and dripping wet hair. He has a towel around his neck and slowly starts to dry his hair. I quicksave again before shutting off the game to give my undivided attention to Colby.

“You can go through the bags. I’m still wet and don’t want to ruin everything. You can also put the snack stuff in the mini-fridge.” There’s an unspoken rule in the house if you don’t keep it in your room or put your name on it, it’s fair game. So Colby pulled the mini-fridge out of storage to keep my food in the room when we first moved in to keep me happy with the food that I love.

“Was it crowded? You were gone for a long time today.” I grab the bag with stuff from the grocery store and start putting it away first.

By the time I finish Colby is fully dressed and his hair is mostly dry. He going through the remaining bags. I close the fridge and join Colby in the bed. Looking back at Colby now, with his stop blue eyes and steadily growing stubble, I feel bad for how I reacted when the whole thing started. I said mean things to him, things I didn’t mean at the time. I was just scared and mistook his kindness and affection for general creepiness. This is still the same Colby that I fell in love with before I found the box in his office closet.

“It wasn’t that crowded today. I think that everything calmed down from how it was earlier this year. I just made a lot of stops on my way home. I got us lunch too, by the way. Anyway, I know you’ve been getting bored so I got you a few hobbies I thought you would like.” He dumps a bag full of yarn and knitting needles.

“Is this for what I think it is?” I pick up the various colors and marvel at them.

“I noticed how much your eyes light up every time we watch Harry Style’s Today Show performance. And I also saw the look in your eye when you saw people making it on TikTok. So I looked it up and found the actual stitch pattern thing. I thought you would have fun making your own. And then I just got a few things for you to up-cycle your clothes you’ve been watching a lot of those videos. And some tie-dye that we can do together. And a plant to brighten up the room.” He’s trying so hard to make me happy. And it’s working.

“Oh my God! You didn’t have to get me all this stuff. I could have gotten them online or something. You’re so sweet.” I throw my arms around him and kiss his cheek.

“I know this whole situation has been unbearable and not pleasant in the beginning. But you’ve been such a good sport with all of this. I wanted to thank you for being patient and willing to let me in again. I truly do love you, Y/N, and just want the best for you.” He pushes my hair behind my ear and cups my face.

“I know, I’m sorry for freaking out when I first found out. I didn’t realize that you were only looking out for me. I love you too, Colby. I won’t try to leave again, I promise.” And I mean it. I don’t have any reason to leave. I finally have someone who loves me and went this far to prove it, why would I want to?

[thedeadpansnarker]

“Out, damned spot! Out, I say! — One, two. Why, then, ‘tis time to do ‘t. Hell is murky! — Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account? — Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.”

— Lady Macbeth, Macbeth Act 5, Scene 1

Her political career might be in the ash heap of history, but Hillary Clinton is not about to abandon her role as America’s lying and conniving Lady Macbeth.

Or, as President Trump would say, Crooked Hillary.

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

She was talking to a couple of handmaidens in the press before a crowd that cheered so lustily for the former Secretary of State that one of them observed giddily: “I think they voted for you. I think they did.”

Seated in a bloody red chair, Mrs. Clinton was having another cleanse after her last tortuous and failed political campaign.

She takes responsibility for any mistakes she made during the campaign. By which she means “nothing.”

Out, damned spot!

Scrubbing her hands furiously.

As usual, it was everybody else’s fault.

Vast right wing conspiracy. Donald Trump. Russians. The Democratic Party. Technology. The internet. Telephones. Young people. Men.

Men? Yes, even men. “Misogyny,” to be precise.

“At some point it sort of bleeds into misogyny,” Lady Clinton said.

Oh, my goodness. Can you imagine how the press would have slaughtered Donald Trump if he said something like that!

Out, damned spot! (Scrubbing.)

It is hard to say if Lady Macbeth was willfully lying or simply delusional. Perhaps a sordid mixture of both, a witch’s brew of shame, fear, resentment, failure, hate and regret.

The only constancy throughout her more than a quarter century on the American political stage is her ability to constantly spin Clintonian deceit about anything and everything.

“I inherited nothing from the Democratic Party,” she said. “I mean, it was bankrupt. It was on the verge of insolvency, its data was mediocre to poor, nonexistent, wrong.”

Wow. What a thorough condemnation of her party that had just spent the previous two years rigging the primary to deny insurgent Socialist Sen. Bernard Sanders from getting the nomination so that Hillary Clinton could — finally — be crowned the nominee.

Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?

And, bankrupt? Really? You mean like how you were “dead broke” back when you were cashing in by the tens of millions on your husband’s presidency?

She also blamed her loss on modernity. Well, of course.

It was the first time, she claimed, “that you had the tech revolution really weaponized politically.”

Another Clintonian lie.

That revolution actually hit politics back in 2004 when former Vermont Gov. Howard Dean turned the internet into an assault brigade. It worked, of course, until it didn’t.

It was further weaponized into smart-bomb accuracy and savage MOAB devastation in Iowa in 2008. Remember, Mrs. Clinton? That was the year you lost to a guy with no experience and a strange Muslim name?

Whatever. Its always the internet’s fault.

After all, if it were not for the internet, you never would have had emails and installed your illegal email server in your unsecured bathtub!

Or, as she calls it, “the biggest nothing-burger ever.”

Sometimes you wonder does she even know the words she’s using? Maybe someone should direct her to UrbanDictionary.com.

“There was no law against it, there was no rule, nothing of that sort,” she said. “So I didn’t break any rule. Nobody said, ‘Don’t do this’ and I was very responsible and not at all careless.”

Or, as former FBI Director James B. Comey called it, “extremely careless.”

This is vintage Clinton.

No, there is not a law that says: “Thou shalt not place thy computer server in thy room for bathing.”

But there sure are entire books of federal code written about handling highly sensitive, classified U.S. secrets and Mrs. Clinton made a complete mockery of them all.

And, “Nobody said, ‘Don’t do this?’” Are you freaking kidding me?

Yeah, just like no one ever told her husband: “Don’t molest the intern in the Oval Office.”

Some things you just don’t need to be told. But that doesn’t mean that it’s not wrong or even illegal.

In a supposedly responsible society, it is incumbent upon every citizen to know the laws. And here is a person holding various positions of utmost responsibility and she claims stupidity as an alibi.

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!

Her latest public cleanse was, of course, warmly received by the fawning audience. This is merely proof that the “resistance” movement is as unified and vigilant as it was BEFORE the election. The election that Donald Trump WON. The election that Hillary Clinton LOST.

Indeed, Hell is murky.

[mandarinenschaeler]

could i ask something abt your stories? what are, like, the basic concepts? main themes?

Lord, sure you can! But you better prepare for WAAAY too much of my rambling, because I freaking love talking about my stories.

The main theme in most of my stories is the human mind I guess. This goes from dreams to the feeling of living a irreal life to dying without dying? It’s hard to explain. The other big theme are contrasts. Like, totally different people befriending or two days in the life of different people. But there are also roadtrips and dumb superheroes because I also love stories with these themes.

That alone would answer your question, the rest is just me rambling about my stories in detail, so it’s up to you if you want to read on.

Still there? Probably not. If yes, VERY cool.

The first story I’ve ever posted on the internet was really bad written (I was 12 back then) and about a girl waking up without many memories (she just knows her name, Alice, how old she is and that she doesn’t live here) in an unfamiliar room and finding herself in a strange city she never heard about. It starts with a man running away from someone and then it’s black.After this the real story begins. She befriends a passenger and the longer she lives there the more she likes it. Her dreams come true one by one and she thinks it couldn’t get any better. The passenger who got her friend also introduces her to his friends and they all get along really good. Okay,but after a time Alice notices more and more strange things. First of all she can’t get into all areas of the city anymore like in the beginning and she realizes that with every of her wishes coming true a bit of her freedom is taken from her (I still don’t know how I got that idea back then).She tries to find out more about the city and finds a notebook in a abandoned locker of her school. It was written by one of her friends, Castiel (oml I was so edgy). He writes about he got into the city searching for his best friend and finally finding him. But he’s somehow really afraid of Castiel (and he still is, Alice knows this guy too) and Castiel tries to find an exit and answers. Well,he only found half of this things. Apparently there is a person controlling all the people in the city. After he brought the newest person under his control he invites the next. And Alice knows she has to find out who this person is to stop him/her but she also knows she’s running out of time because her wishes continue to come true and she’s losing more and more of her freedom. Pretty much at the end she finds out that it was one of her friends all along but before she can confront him her time runs out. He comes to her, says he’s sorry because he really liked her and everything gets black as she loses her soul.There was actually more but I have to shorten it a bit, you see how long it already got like this. Also please forgive me changing tenses every sentence.

Second story called “Who taught me living”, I make it short: Again a nihilistic girl called Alice (I loved this name some years ago) moves to Canada and meets there Damien while he’s observing birds (robins and god, this names!). He’s full of life and stuff and he decides to show Alice how good life can be (many good ideas) and I guess Alice began to slowly fall into love with him, but he died in a car accident at the end while he wanted to pick her up to a new adventure. Also backstory and stuff. She flies home to her parents and comes back to Canada after a time. Story ends when she comes out of the airport and smiles for the first time in a long while because she sees a robin.

Next one is about a boy living two different lifes. Everytime he goes to sleep he wakes up in world/life A and after falling there asleep in world/life B. He switches every day between them and tries to figure out which one is real and which one is not. I still like that concept but I never found a good ending for this one.

This one is pretty similiar to the story above. A boy lives and when he dies he awakes i a completely new, bizarre world. After a time he dies also there and awakes again in a completely new world. After years and many, many deaths he has got numb and just kills himself if a world is too boring for him. Many adventures. Story ends as he’s running away from some bad guys, jumping into his death once again to save himself, but for this time it’s permanent. He’s dead for real. Here I don’t really love the story, but I like the ending.

One of my most recent stories: “Captain Cent”. It’s about a superhero with the really dumb power to attract copper like a magnet. It plays after a nuclear war Trump caused, a man with another superpowers, “Commander Dollar” now leads the destroyed country. Matt (Captain Cents alter ego) knew Commander Dollar’s alter ego when he was small and after CD takes over the prevalence CD wants to eliminate Matt to keep his secrets secret. Matt almost dies and backtracks to one of the many, many poor quarters where he discovers his powers. He worked as a captain in a paper factory before and with his new power he attracts the cupper in the small cent pieces and gives the money to the poor people who start calling him Captain Cent after a while. He gets pretty known under the people and really, really admired by them. Many details, he gets a robot companion and starts planning how to kill(?) Commander Dollar. Time passes, he sneaks into his residence, big epic battle: Captain Cent is really badly wounded, it looks like CD is winning. But then Matt spots the little pouch with cent pieces he always carrys with him and lost while fighting. He attracts it and it hits Commander Dollar really hurt and wounds him, but not bad enough. Commander Dollar kills Matt. He steps outside and brags with this and when the poor people hear they all get furious, wake up from their numbness and kill the commander in a angry mob. It’s a really built out world with many characters but again.I had to short it.

Last one (like, I got more but that’s the last one I tell y’all about for now) is about a roadtrip three friends make (and maybe my favourite story? Tho it’s really dumb, I’m working rn on it). It all starts with the death of Seth’s computer (i’m gonna change the names).They bury it on an animals graveyard btw, but let’s get over with this. So Seth always wanted to be a writer and just finished his first story, but it was on the computer that died (computers name is Ned btw, just like my computer that also died rip). And just on this computer and a usb stick because plot reasons. Jk, Seth hadn’t any save space left on his cloud. His two friends are Pete (who steals cars and sells them) and Isaac (who appears to be a drug dealer but he’s a undercover cop. nobody knows ofc). Because Seth hasn’t a own car he always drives together with Isaac.Okay, back from the funeral Isaac parks at Pete’s sales hall, as always (he got an own park place reserved). First problem: A new “employer” accidentally sells Isaac’s car. Second problem: Seth can’t find his usb stick anymore because it’s in Isaac’s car.Okay, so they all go with Pete’s car on a roadtrip and try to track Isaac’s car down. They meet many, many people with different stories. And at the beginning Isaac is really nervous for some reason, but he calms down the farer they are from their home town. Seth at the start just hurries and never takes the time to talk to people, he just wants to track down the car as fast as possible, but the longer they’re on the road, the more chill he gets. At some point they find Isaac’s car and drive home, Pete in his car and Seth and Isaac in the other one. Isaac got really calm after a call he received and he drops Seth by his apartment and drives to his own home. Seth suddenly remembers the usb stik and drives with his bycicle to Isaacs apartment. When he arrives the door is open, Seth gets really worried and enters the flat, finding Isaac lying shot down on the ground, his apartment completely devastated. He runs to him, calls an ambulance and just wants to know what happened and that’s the moment Isaac tells him he was an undercover cop all along (I’ve got a great line prepared for that!). The ambulance comes, taking isaac to the hospital, but he doesn’t make it.Seth doesn’t leave the house till the funeral (I always imagine that song playing at the funeral). He needs some time, but after the funeral he washes his laundry and in one of his jeans, in the pocket, he finds the usb stick.Completely wet, he tries if it still works. It doesn’t. And he just smiles because it was with him at the journey all along and he decides to write a new book. One about the roadtrip they made together.

I also thought about it being Pete’s car and not Isaac’s,so that Isaac just would join them to escape the drug ring, I’m still not sure if I shouldn’t change that back.

Argh,that’s so much? Oh my god, it’s so late in my time zone, I’m gonna sleep now, but if you read this all: khfijh, I CAN’T BELIEVE IT?ARE YA CRAZY? OMG I FEEL SO HONORED!!! YOU BLESSED SOUL

[sending-the-message]

I found a notebook in an abandoned house, and now I've got a headache that won't go away by toomuchfog

I’m what you would call “between homes” right now. Without getting into details, let’s just say that my life hasn’t exactly panned out the way I’d like it to, and I’ve been drifting across this great country of ours for the better part of two years.

A few months ago, I found a notebook. It’s lonely being a wandering hermit. I love books, though, and I’ll read whatever I can get my hands on. I’ve been staying in abandoned houses for the most part -- in this economy, they aren’t hard to come across. I wouldn’t exactly say that I’ve been living the high life, but I’m usually able to find a roof to put over my head and a couch to sleep on.

You’d be surprised what people leave behind. Electronics don’t work without power, but people leave behind entire collections of books. I was staying at this one house, up in Washington, I think it was, and I found an entire private home library all about living off the land and such. I think that’s the house where I found the notebook. I just sort of grabbed it along with a few other books about camping and roughing it -- I figure if I can get my hands on a sleeping bag and a good tent, I can set up camp in the woods instead of in people’s abandoned living rooms.

The notebook is freaking me out. That’s why I’m posting it here. I’ve read and re-read it a dozen times or so, and it’s honestly starting to scare me.

I’ve transcribed the notebook here. I censored certain parts of it -- I don’t want anyone coming after me or anything. I don’t think the contents of this notebook are particularly dangerous, but I don’t want to take any chances. The guy’s handwriting deteriorates towards the end and is downright atrocious in places, but I think I’ve copied it correctly for the most part. I’ve been having some trouble with my hands cramping lately -- just a side-effect of living on the road. I was able to soak them in warm water a few nights ago, and that seemed to help. Hell, maybe I’m getting arthritis or something.

Shoot, I’ve been rambling. Like I said, I found the notebook somewhere in Washington. I can’t remember the name of the town where I was staying or anything like that. I just remember that every house looked like it had been abandoned, and there was no sign of anyone. It really freaked me out. I didn’t stay for more than a night, and even that felt like it was too long.

[DATE REDACTED]

5:15 - 6:03 a.m. -- So far, four large vehicles have passed. Cannot tell what they are. Think they are vans or trucks. Cannot make out license plates. They keep their lights off. Cannot tell who is driving or how many people are inside each vehicle.

7:26 a.m. -- Vans. They’re definitely vans. Have only seen one since the sun came up. It’s a white van with a red and blue logo on the side. Logo is of a large satellite dish. The words SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY are printed below it in black letters. Cannot find logo anywhere on internet.

11:56 a.m. -- SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY van is parked across the street. Has been there for over an hour. No one has gotten in or out of the van.

12:45 p.m. -- Developed a headache at approximately 12:10 p.m. Took [MEDICATION REDACTED] at 12:12 p.m. Headache has not improved, has only gotten worse. Cannot take more pills. Need to lie down. Van has not moved. No one has gotten in or out of van.

3:28 p.m. -- Woke up approximately 15 minutes ago. Headache gone. Van gone.

6:02 p.m. -- TV is not working properly. Static keeps cutting through Channel [REDACTED]. Ate dinner.

[DATE REDACTED]

3:33 a.m. -- Woke up approximately 30 minutes ago with violent stomach cramps. Attempted to take [MEDICATION REDACTED], was unable to keep it down. Vomited.

4:58 a.m. -- Abdominal cramping has subsided. Vomiting has stopped. Am unable to fall back asleep. Van is again parked across the street. Am unable to read license plate or see van’s occupants.

5:30 a.m. -- Am experiencing more abdominal cramping. Have consumed Saltines and ginger ale. So far, have been able to keep it down. Van is still parked across the street. Same van as yesterday.

11:46 a.m. -- Have watched van all morning. Van has not moved. No one has gotten in or out of van. Can see license plate number [REDACTED]. Have done Google search on SATELLITE REPAIR COMPANY and [REDACTED LICENSE PLATE NUMBER]. No results.

1:59 p.m. -- Man has gotten out of rear passenger’s side door of van. Am unable to see into van. Man is approximately 5’10”, 175 lbs, 30-40 years old. Caucasian. Dark brown hair. Blue eyes. Wearing dark gray coveralls and workboots. Appears to be wearing a mask. The lower half of his face is obscured. His mouth and nose are covered. There appears to be a tube connecting the mask on his face to a backpack-like apparatus. Most likely a respirator of some sort. Why would he be wearing a respirator? Man paced back and forth briefly before opening rear passenger’s side door and climbing back into van.

2:15 p.m. -- Am developing headache. Have taken [MEDICATION REDACTED].

2:46 p.m. -- [MEDICATION REDACTED] is not working. Headache growing worse.

3:15 p.m. -- head hurts so much. Can’t stay near window anymore. Need to lie down.

7:19 p.m. -- Woke up on floor next to bed. Cannot remember how I got here. I could’ve sworn I closed the curtains and lay down in my bed.

7:32 p.m. -- TV isn’t working.

8:57 p.m. -- Decided to ask [NEIGHBOR’S NAME REDACTED] about the van. Assumed that [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has been having problems with his TV. Went to [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] and asked about TV problems. [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has not been having trouble with TV and has not called any repair service. However, [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] has noticed the van. [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] saw the van’s driver and described an “average-looking Hispanic or Latino man.” [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] could not recall height, weight, or age. Described the man as having dark brown or black hair and brown eyes. Stated that man was wearing gray coveralls and that he appeared to be wearing a respirator. Man briefly exited the driver’s side door of the vehicle. Damn, I wish [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] was more observant.

[DATE REDACTED]

3:57 a.m. -- I don’t remember going to bed last night. I don’t remember anything that happened after speaking with [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. I woke up on my couch. The TV was on, displaying bluish-white static. Am experiencing mild abdominal cramping and minor pain in hands and fingers.

4:36 a.m. -- I don’t remember writing that last journal entry. I woke up in my bed feeling perfectly fine. I looked out the window. There are no vans or suspicious persons about.

5:09 a.m. -- Woke up to the sound of someone moving around in my backyard. I checked out the window and saw a man digging through my garbage cans. I armed myself and went outside to check. When I got out there, the man was gone. The garbage cans were disturbed, one was overturned. I cannot tell if anything important is missing. Thank God I shred all my junk mail.

7:48 a.m. -- Am experiencing severe abdominal cramping. Have vomited twice. Have attempted to take [MEDICATION REDACTED], am unable to keep it down. Am considering calling a doctor.

10:58 a.m. -- Woke up in the bathtub. Was covered in vomit. Showered and cleaned the tub, felt perfectly fine. Ate saltines, ginger ale, and hard-boiled eggs.

12:09 p.m. -- The van is back. Armed myself and went to investigate. All windows are tinted, even the windshield. Was unable to see inside. Knocked on windows and tried to open door. No luck. Was unable to gain access to the van or determine who/what is inside of it.

2:32 p.m. -- Van still parked outside.

3:00 p.m. -- Am experiencing pain in hands. Am having trouble moving fingers and holding small objects. [UNINTELLIGIBLE]

5:47 p.m. -- Fell asleep in chair by window. Had nightmare about my fingers fusing together, turning my hands into lobster claws. Had trouble getting out of chair. It felt like the chair was stuck to the backs of my legs. Finally managed to get out of chair. Went to kitchen, consumed saltines, ginger ale, and hard-boiled eggs. Unable to stomach anything else.

5:57 p.m. -- Developing headache. Took [MEDICATION REDACTED].

6:14 p.m. -- Headache getting worse. Seeing spots on edges of vision. Feeling dizzy and nauseous. Unable to stand up. [UNINTELLIGIBLE] Experiencing abdominal cramping.

9:46 p.m. -- Woke up in bed. Left leg is swollen. There is no pain, but the leg is bruised and swollen to twice its normal size. Am unable to move it. Hands feel numb. Am having trouble moving fingers.

10:10 p.m. -- Left leg still swollen and bruised. Am unable to move it. Managed to drag self to window. Van no longer parked outside. Saw [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] taking his garbage out. Sight of [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] filled me with anger. I’ve always liked [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. He’s a good man, very friendly and always helpful. I have no reason to hate him. I know I have no reason to hate him. Seeing him filled me with rage. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him. If my left leg hadn’t been so swollen and immobile, I think I would’ve run outside and killed him where he stood. God help me, I wanted to hurt him.

[DATE REDACTED]

1:17 a.m. -- Woke up with pain in left leg. Left leg still swollen and bruised. My foot is now facing the opposite direction. I am unable to move it. Have tried calling 911. Phones are not working. Am unable to put any weight on left leg. Right leg twitches and jitters, but refuses to cooperate or do what I tell it. Re-read yesterday’s entries. I have no memory of them. Am scared.

4:58 a.m. -- head hurts so bad. Seeing spots and stars in peripheral vision. Am afraid to go to sleep. Had nightmare about hands becoming lobster claws again, but this time, I killed [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]. In the dream, my legs were large fleshy tentacles and I slithered across the street. [UNINTELLIGIBLE] smashed lobster claw hands against [NEIGHBOR REDACTED]’s face. Ripped his eyes out and ate them. Woke up covered with sweat. Need help. Can’t move legs.

9:06 a.m. -- Heard [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] knocking on my door at approximately 7:00 a.m. Sound filled me with rage. I started screaming at [NEIGHBOR REDACTED], threatening to kill him. Was able to press my hand over my mouth to stifle the noise. I don’t think [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] heard, as he went away and has not come back. After [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] left, I discovered that I had shoved my entire hand into my mouth, up to the wrist. My fingertips were scraping against my tonsils, but this did not activate my gag reflex at all. When I finally pulled my hand out of my mouth, it was covered in blackish-brown sludge.

need to call police need doctor so much pain oh dear god so much pain go away [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] go away because i want to kill you want you dead want to rip your eyes out and eat them want to tear your tongue out want to bite your fingers off want to kill you want you dead dead dead want blood everywhere want it need it [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] run run run run run [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] run run run [UNINTELLIGIBLE] mother of god someone please help me pain everywhere legs can’t feel legs legs won’t cooperate won’t move hands lobster claws nowhere is safe nothing is safe oh god mother of god god almighty cramping so bad want to vomit can’t vomit teeth falling out my god my teeth are falling out they’re here now they’re pounding on the door it’s not [NEIGHBOR REDACTED] it’s the van men the van men are here something in the air there is something in the air they know they’ve done something to the air [UNINTELLIGIBLE] don’t let them in can’t let them in door won’t hold them forever [UNINTELLIGIBLE] what have they done oh dear god what have they done to me

The notebook ends here. I’m having trouble remembering the house I took it from. Like I said, I didn’t read it until I’d hitchhiked at least two to three hours away. I wasn’t in the house for long, just a night. This whole thing is probably someone’s creative writing exercise, right? I mean, it can’t be serious. I feel fine. I mean, I had a minor headache this morning, but it wasn’t anything serious. It wasn’t a migraine like the ones described in this notebook. I haven’t been sleeping well or eating particularly healthily. That’s probably it. I can’t remember the last time I had a piece of fresh fruit or a vegetable. That’s probably it. I’m sure that once I get some decent food in me and a good night’s sleep in a warm dry bed, I’ll feel better. This notebook’s probably a hoax. Some poor dope knew that he’d be evicted, so he left a prank behind for potential squatters.

I wish this headache would go away, though.

[alhorner]

Anderson .Paak is the man with no off switch

After their first night on tour together, Bruno Mars and Anderson .Paak had dinner. “We were chopping it up, and he was like ‘I’m gonna help you out, we gonna write together,’” says .Paak. “He asked me: ‘But are you really ready man? You ready to have that hit?’ And I was like ‘damn, bro… I’m ready to make hits, but I don’t know if I’m ready for that.’”

By that, he means the kinda spotlight that comes with true pop behemoth status: the type of celebrity that, as .Paak’s ultra famous ‘Uptown Funk’ hitmaker pal could attest, means infinite riches and glamorous Super Bowl half time show slots, yes, but also means being hounded by paparazzi at every turn. “I like where we’re at now,” he muses. “I’m making music that’s pushing the culture, but I can still go out and get a coffee and not get surrounded by TMZ.”

We don’t know how to break this to him but if things continue to snowball for .Paak this might not be the case for long. The hip-hop polymath, who not long ago was homeless and working on a weed farm in his native California, is responsible for not one but two of last year’s most critically adored albums. He’s the preferred writing partner of every rapper and musician you currently love or admire. Dr. Dre signed him to his label. He’s hit the studio with Chance The Rapper, sold out arenas worldwide with Bruno Mars, shared a stage with Kendrick, and gone viral in an internet video dancing with his infant son, Soul, on Ellen. On top of all this, he’s about to electrify festival stages across Britain and Europe with his backing band the Free Nationals. After a frantic 18 months putting his infectious brand of soul-dripped rap on the map, he’s a guy in dire need of a break. Not that he has any intention of taking one.

“I actually think I sleep too much, man. I got shit to get done,” the 31-year-old says as he takes control of the studio stereo, queueing up some 1980s funk and a few Kendrick hits (“I’m still getting into his new album but it’s amazing,” he says, over the heavy piano panic of lead single ‘HUMBLE’). It’s a sunny April afternoon in east London, where the multi-instrumentalist is gulping back espressos and bouncing about with an electricity that’ll come in handy over the next week, when he’s tasked with entertaining London’s massive O2 Arena across four sold-out nights (“20,000 people a night man, I love it,” he beams). But by the sounds of it, one of this summer’s must-see festival performers would rather be working on beats than partying in front of the Pyramid Stage if he wasn’t performing.

“I’m in a constant state of creation. You need to physically tear me outta that studio sometimes. Shit, that makes me sound boring,” he jokes, piling a plate with caesar salad as we sit down for lunch. In person, he’s a one-man charisma machine, his conversation regularly dropping into the same raspy flow that lights up his records. “I like to party, but I’d always rather be in a studio environment creating something super dope.” He’s not kidding – after our interview, he ends up taking a taxi to Abbey Road for an afternoon throwing ideas around with Chic’s Nile Rodgers, Bruno Mars and parent-sharing house practitioners Disclosure.

That hard-working streak might have something to do with his difficult backstory. Born Brandon Paak Anderson, the artist known nowadays as Anderson .Paak (the dot is to “make people pay attention to the little details” he says) was raised in the small west-coast beach city of Oxnard, 100km from Los Angeles, by a Korean-born mother who hustled her way up from being “literally found by a dumpster, abandoned” in the 1950s to owning her own strawberry business empire. His dad, an African American naval worker, was jailed when .Paak seven years old for assaulting his mother in the street in front of him (“he beat her within an inch of her life,” he has previously said on the matter). Assault and firearm charges followed, landing his father a 14-year sentence.

“There were hard moments,” says .Paak about his upbringing. “But the way music alleviated stress and tension for me when things were hard, I want my music to help people and give them the good vibes they need. That’s what it’s about.”

After his father’s incarceration, his mother remarried. An otherwise pretty uneventful childhood spent playing drums – his first instrument – at his local church, going to punk shows and devouring “any, every” type of music was interrupted aged 17 when freak storms wrecked his mother’s strawberry farm crops, plummeting her into bankruptcy and sparking a gambling addiction that ended in a prison spell for her and .Paak’s stepfather over undeclared earnings.

When his birth father was eventually released from prison, the songwriter’s attempts to rekindle their relationship were cut short by cancer, and he passed away before they could meet again. A failed marriage, a period when he was homeless and a spell working on a medical marijuana farm (“the hardest work of my life, there was football fields of that stuff”) also all beckoned, as his music career initially struggled to take off. “Homeless sounds so dramatic,” he’s able to laugh now. “I was crashing at different homies’ spots, we had homies helping us out, while I tried to get a little change together or till I was out on tour. But it was hard, of course, having to be patient waiting for a break.”

That break came when Dr Dre pulled him out of relative obscurity for a star turn on his long-delayed ‘Compton’ album in 2015. A year later, .Paak – now signed to Dre’s prestigious Aftermath label – dropped a phenomenally addictive solo album titled ‘Malibu’, closely followed by another phenomenally addictive album as part of rap duo Nxworries. ‘Yes Lawd!’, that Nxworries album made an impact, but it was ‘Malibu’ that really slayed – a vivid, Grammy-nominated soul trip in equal parts euphoric, fun, introspective and heart-crushing, it came packed with reflections on .Paak’s hard route to the top.

From there, he went on to wow the Grammys, performing live with his childhood heroes A Tribe Called Quest. “It’s that shit that gives you those ‘oh shit’ moments: like, wow, I’m in a room with Dre, this is really fucking happening! After a while, that kinda fades and you realise they’re they’re cool, you’re cool, you’re all just here to rock together,” he says. “But that first time… it really is like, ‘oh shit!’”

Dre he describes as a hip-hop machine who doesn’t mess around. “Dre’s so busy, so when he comes through, we just lock in. It don’t take no time for us to be making some cool shit. He fights for what he wants and that’s the common thing I’ve seen in real geniuses who make a real impact – that undying fight for what they want, from Dre to Kendrick to Bruno, these people don’t let anyone else dictate their vision. They fight. Dre’s a perfectionist. I like to think he saw that in me too.”

Skip forward to 2017, and .Paak considers himself in a pretty good place. He’s recently been working with another of his “super dope” heroes Pharrell Williams. His wife, Jae-Lin – who he met while working at a music school during his 20s – is pregnant with the couple’s second child. And .Paak is also excited to get a new album he describes as “groove-based, uptempo, high art, intelligent dance music” inspired by Chic out there soon. “It’s fun stuff but has a message and feeds the soul.”

But while he’s currently enjoying life, he’s acutely aware that large portions of the population of his home nation are struggling under its new management. “America is a place where you can come and get your hustle on and build yourself up from the dirt. That’s its history: opportunity. To see people having the nerve to go against that… they’re full of shit,” he rages, dropping his megawatt smile for a moment to explain why there’s a more political slant to his upcoming release. “I’m affected by what’s going on socially so I feel it’s my responsibility to try and say something. If I don’t take that opportunity, I may as well be working at the Tesco.”

This by the way is a tick of .Paak’s – true to his nice guy reputation in the world of hip-hop, he’s the type of guy who tries to get on your level by speaking your language when you meet him, peppering our conversation today with British colloquialisms and reference. It doesn’t end at mention of Tesco’s. “Knob jockey, knob sniffer… Dickhead, that’s a classic one,” laughs the Californian before we part, showing off a few UK swear words he’s added to his lexicon on recent trips. “These are good words to use at the Tesco, geezer,” he adds, in an abominable London accent somewhere between Michael Caine and a Lewisham grime MC. “Sorry,” he adds, “that’s really bad, I can’t really do the British accent,” he giggles sheepishly, plunging his head into his hands. “I’ll stop before you don’t let me back here.”

That would certainly be a disappointment to .Paak’s growing legion of fans: the next time he’s due on British shores, it’s for a run of high profile festival performances including Park Life and Glastonbury that should inch the 31-year-old closer to that all-conquering superstar status he’s not entirely sure he wants. He’s not stressing too much though. “We’re gonna get out there, look good, sound good, with our energy up,” he grins, “and give the people what they need. That’s what I’m here for.”

Shortlist, May 2017