#In sweeps this motherfucker who talks to them and understands them and is just as smart as they are and then suddenly

[chronurgy]

In my feels about how Gortash abso-fucking-lutely ruined Durge's life. Just fucking destroyed it. But that's also the only reason they have any sort of chance to make something different for themself. He's the only reason they even have a chance at a happy ending (even though it's a happy ending that he can't be in)

[rubynationwins]

Hard To Handle

Soft!Dark!Sebastian Stan x PlusSize!Handler!Reader (Fem!Reader) (RPF)

My Masterlist

Summary: You risk your safety trying to find Sebastian when he runs off, but you don’t understand why he’s so upset. As his handler, it’s your job to keep him in line. Plus, why would any man try something on a girl like you? He decides to show you just what men are capable of.

Warnings: 18+, minors plz go away, dark fic(or my attempt at one), dub/non-con, soft!dark!Sebastian, smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v sex, rough sex, biting/marking, manhandling, choking, edging, fingering, semi-public sex, dirty talk, angst, light dom/sub, swearing, fat shaming/name calling(not by seb), mentions of body image issues // If there are warnings I missed plz lmk so I can include them. In general, if this type of content is triggering for u DNI. Read at ur own risk

Word Count: 5,100

A/N- This is my first dark fic, or at least kinda dark? Idk but I hope you enjoy it! Seb is obviously OOC (since this is a dark fic) he’s also a bit of a brat😉 I tried my best w/ the Romanian but I don’t speak it so take it at face value plz. Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!

This story is also on my AO3 account, Ruby_Nation, but should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.

I want to shoutout the writers who lured me to the dark side with their incredible fics @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @kinanabinks @angryschnauzer @lanadelreyscokewhor3​

Thanks for reading!

-Ruby

Famous actor Sebastian Stan was a lot of things: charming, intelligent, insanely talented, a hilarious goofball, and, of course, drop-dead gorgeous. There was something about his chiseled jaw and hooded gaze that made it impossible to look away from the celebrity. What Sebastian Stan was not, however, was good at following rules. Your rules, to be exact. As his handler, you had specific stipulations set out for him to follow. But did famous actor Sebastian Stan listen to said rules? No, of course not. This made your job as his glorified babysitter immensely more challenging. Since, every time he disregarded your directives, you were the one who dealt with the repercussions. He knew this, and yet on the very first stop of his press tour, he decided to run off and galavant around an unfamiliar city unsupervised. 

5 hours earlier

When you arrived at the hotel with Sebastian, it was 7 pm. Your jet-lagged self was still on LA time, though, so it felt more like 9 pm to you. At least your room was nice, even if it was connected to Sebastian’s by a single door. You quickly changed out of your travel outfit, unpacked your toiletry bag-since hotel shampoo was a cruel joke-and went to the bathroom. After that, you walked over to the door that lead to Sebastian’s room and knocked. No answer. You knocked again, “Sebastian! We need to go over tomorrow’s itinerary.”  Still nothing. Luckily, the door was unlocked. A subsequent sweep of his quarters revealed that they were empty. 

Shit. 

That slippery motherfucker had once again escaped under your watchful eye. Okay, maybe not so watchful since you had been on the other side of a wall when he slipped away. But he was only out of eyeshot for about twenty minutes and he managed to not only fly the coop but also unpack all of his luggage. He had so many suitcases! How in the world did he unpack them all so fast? Not that it mattered, because when you found him you were going to handcuff him to one of those god-damn oversized suitcases. See how he liked lugging around an inconvenient charge for a change. 

Present

Now you were wandering around the nightlife district looking for the escaped actor. You stopped outside a bar that could only be described with the word “dive” in front of it. This had to be it since you had scoured every other location in the area that offered booze and/or entertainment. You had waded through drunken crowds in cramped bars, had enjoyed some nice piano music at a more upscale establishment, you had even witnessed a very flexible dancer shimmy up a pole and then drop back down it hanging on with only one leg. Still, Sebastian was nowhere to be found.

At one of the places, you thought you’d found him sitting on a stool at a bar with his back turned to you. You tapped his shoulder and instead found a drunken man in his 50s. The stench of bottom-shelf whiskey wafted off of him. He teetered in his seat on the verge of toppling over. He’d leaned towards you, either because he thought your touch had been a sign of womanly desire or gravity had finally caught up to his unbalanced state. Either way, you leaped back, smacking into a waitress carrying a tray of beer. The tray went flying. The beer went on you. 

So, you were in a particularly foul mood as you walked into the last bar on your quest to find the most annoying actor on the planet. You were soaked in cheap booze and out forty bucks you had used to comp the spilt drinks. It took one sweep of the bar’s interior to spot the man you had been trying to find for the past five hours. 

He was standing under dim lights in the back, surrounded by a boisterous group of men. The bastard was playing pool. By the carefree look on Sebastian’s face and the way he was joking around with his new buddies, his evening had been a lot less shitty than yours. You centered yourself, trying your best to reign in the anger thrumming through your entire being, and strode towards the man who made your job, no, your life, a constant stress-inducing nightmare. 

Sebastian stood at the far end of the pool table, lining up his cue stick to sink the last solid ball on the pool table. His relaxed demeanor was all confidence, but the slight furrow of his brow gave away how deeply he was focusing. You shoved your way through the loud men gathered around the table. When you finally reached Sebastian, you stopped at his side, glaring at him with murderous intent. You expected him to notice the waves of thinly veiled rage radiating from your presence right away. But instead of turning around to beg for forgiveness, he just kept staring at the ball in front of him, oblivious to your fuming state. At this point, you had had enough of this bullshit and just wanted to get back to the god-damn hotel.

“Hey, asshole!” You shouted so that your voice was heard over the roaring group of men. Unfortunately, since you were right next to his ear, you startled him. Sebastian jumped. The hand that was gripping his cue stick flew forward, sending the cue ball directly into a side pocket. Members of Sebastian’s team went into an uproar, furious about the scratch.

Sebastian whipped around, surprise and anger etched into his features, “Y/N?! What the hell? What are you doing here?” 

You were about to retort when a large hand grasped your shoulder and spun you around to face a man who looked like a frat bro mixed with a pickup truck. He fumed, “You just fucking cost us the game! I’m out two hundred bucks now, you fat bitch!” 

Normally, you were able to keep your cool whenever insults were thrown at you. Years of similar-looking asshats calling you all types of degrading names had given you pretty thick skin. However, there was something about this particular meathead that broke through it. The awful night you were having probably had something to do with it too. You stood on your tip-toes, getting up in his face, “What did you just call me? If I were you, I’d turn the fuck around, prick.” 

He lowered his head, closing the distance between the two of you even more. His eyes were bloodshot and he reeked of cigarettes and dollar store cologne, “And why’s that, little piggy?”

You saw red. You swung your fist back, about to go for a gut punch when a large body pushed between you and the truck man. Sebastian looked like he wanted to hit the other guy too, but instead, he wrapped a hand around your arm and held you at a distance.

In a flash, Sebastian’s cool demeanor returned, “I’m sorry about my… sister, Tod, she’s just in a bad mood right now, ya ‘know?” He gave the man a tight smile as if letting him in on a little joke.

You stepped forward to protest, “I am not his sis–” His grip on your upper arm squeezed tighter. “Ow!” you squeaked, but he just kept looking forward, not even glancing back at you.

Tod, formerly known as Pissface, seemed to accept Sebastian’s explanation. Apparently, though, he still felt the need to give his two cents on why you were in such a “bad mood” as Sebastian had put it, “Yeah. She’s probably on the rag, man.” 

You rolled your eyes, of course. Of course, a grade-A troll like him would say that. Of fucking course.

Pissface–Tod–continued to run his mouth, “I thought she was some stalker man, you guys don’t even look related.” 

Sebastian laughed humorlessly, “She takes after our mom.”

“Huh. Either way, you should put a muzzle on that thing,” Tod nodded towards you. You flipped him the bird and he sneered back at you. “Ugly fat chicks like you always have the bitchiest personalities,” he turned his head back to Sebastian, “Good luck getting any tonight if that’s your wingman.” With those departing words, the deadshit man walked off. Sebastian made no move to rebuke the insult. Instead, he pulled you towards the exit, only pausing to shove a wad of cash at a waitress to cover whatever expenses he’d racked up.

Sebastian burst through the exit door, your arm still clutched in his vice-like grip. He dragged you down the street before finally letting you go. 

You rubbed the spot on your arm he had held and swiveled to glare at the bar that was now almost out of sight. “God, what a douchebag. I’m glad he lost all that money,” you turned your gaze back to where Sebastian stood, illuminated by a lamppost, “why were you even on a team with a dick like him? I’m sure his friends weren’t any better. What’s wrong with y-” 

“Y/N, Shut up!” Sebastian yelled, his usually relaxed tone gone. You took a step back in surprise. His eyes stared daggers at you and there was a brooding aura around him all of a sudden. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his body was stiff as if holding back rage. For the first time since you had started working for him, Sebastian Stan was legitimately pissed off. He tended to be the one who rolled with the punches, who wasn’t bothered by anything. But now, he looked furious. And for whatever reason, his newfound anger was targeted at you.

You were immediately on the defensive, “What’s your problem? Why are you angry with me? Pissface back there was the one being an ass,” you took a few steps closer to him to prove that you weren’t intimidated by his menacing presence, “And I’m the one who has the right to be angry at you!”

He narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips, leaning forward, as if talking to a petulant child, “And why is that?”

You let out a frustrated noise. “What do you mean, ‘why’? You snuck off again! Sebastian, you are so selfish, you know that!? I’ve been searching all over, by myself, trying to find you for the past–” you checked the time-“five and a half hours!” 

Your words made Sebastian pause, “You’ve been what?” he didn’t let you answer, “Why the hell have you been out here alone at night? And trying to start a fight with some wannabe pool hustler? You’re lucky I saved you from getting your ass handed to you back there.”

“I didn’t ask you to! I can handle myself just fine. I’m not some fragile doll, look at me,” you gestured to yourself, “I’m a big girl, I can fight my own battles.”

“You’re telling me you could have taken on that prick back there? What about all of his buddies, huh? You don’t think before you act, Y/N.” He said your name like an irritated parent reprimanding their child. “Why’re you so fuckin’ reckless!?” Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends, “Y/N, you’re my handler, not my bodyguard. And even if you were, I still wouldn’t want you wandering around a strange new city at night by yourself.”

“Sebastian, that’s exactly what you did,” you deadpan.

“That’s obviously different, Y/N,” he said flippantly, brushing aside your very valid point, “I can’t believe I have to explain this to you. You’re a woman, that makes you vulnerable. The world is full of dangerous people, Y/N. Especially men, who would do god knows what to you if given the opportunity. That’s true in any situation, but when you do this?!” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated, “You’re just asking for some random bastard to take advantage of you.”

He was missing the point, “Like I said before; you don’t have any reason to be so worked up. If I was smaller I’d understand your concern, but since I look the way I do, I don’t have to worry about being ‘taken advantage of’ as you put so lightly.”

“What does your size have to do with anything, Y/N?” 

You shook your head, he just didn’t get it. “My whole life I’ve been pretty much ignored by the entirety of the male species, and when they do notice me it’s to reaffirm how repulsive they find me. All because of my size,” your words tasted like bile, painful but true, “That fact doesn’t change when I’m out on my own or when it’s after sundown.” Why was he making you explain this? How could he not see what was so obvious to everyone else?

Sebastian’s voice was somber now, “That kind of thinking is going to get you hurt, Y/N. Or worse, killed.” 

Deep down you knew some of what Sebastian said was true but there was no way you were bowing down to his claims, “How would you even know? You have no idea what it’s like to be me. You never will.” His blue eyes were filled with concern and something else. Something you despised: pity. 

Finished with the conversation, you decided to stop sugarcoating your words, “Sebastian, get it through your thick skull, no man is going to violate me! I’m too big, too fat, too disgusting! I’m just not worth it!" You were out of breath with your words, and your eyes brimmed with spite-filled tears. Sebastian stared at you, wide-eyed and lips parted in disbelief at your outburst. You quickly turned away from him, trying to discreetly rub the tears from your eyes.

“We are done talking about this. As your handler, I am the one responsible for keeping you out of harm's way and fixing any screwups you cause. I will not apologize for doing my job by coming down here to find you. I am the one who lays down the law, not you.” You took out your phone. “Now, I’m calling us a ride and we’re going back to the hotel. That’s an order.” 

Quick steps sounded behind you and when you turned back around Sebastian was right in front of you, “What are you do–”

He snatched your phone away.

“Hey–”

Sebastian grabbed your now phoneless hand and tugged you towards a nearby ally. He kept hold of your wrist as you stumbled after him, confused. What was happening? Had he seen some paparazzi and was trying to hide? If so, he didn’t have to be so rough.

Once you were off the sidewalk and out of sight he pulled up short. You ran into him, unprepared for his sudden halt. Right as you were trying to pull free, he dropped your wrist. You stumbled forward and caught yourself on the brick wall in front of you.

Before you could right yourself, Sebastian was there, pressing his muscled body flush against your backside. What was happening? Startled, you tried to push yourself off the wall to get away from him. His hands shot forward and yanked your flailing fists behind your back. His right hand locked them in place with its strong grip. His left arm wrapped around your soft middle, fingers skimming your waist. It all happened so fast. You froze-too overwhelmed by Sebastian caging you against himself. His heated presence overpowered your senses. You couldn’t utter a single sound.

Sebastian was now devoid of the anger that had been coursing through his veins just a moment ago. His face nuzzled into your neck and shivers shot down your spine at the feel of his rough stubble scraping your skin. He breathed you in and let out a guttural sound. “You smell like beer,” he chuckled. The low rumble of his dark laughter slid over you like a velvety blanket. It caressed every nook and cranny of your body. He flicked his tongue against the base of your neck, sending tingles along your arms, “Taste like it too.”

“Seb-”

You tried to protest but his tongue returned to your skin and you were once again rendered speechless. He licked a languid stripe from the base of your neck up to the notch of your jaw, nipping at the sensitive flesh. You yelped. His rough lips curved into a devious smile as he continued his assault on your exposed throat. Sebastian must have felt your heartbeat increase under his touch because he nipped at your pulse point. He dug his teeth in deeper this time, almost breaking skin. Your cry of pain morphed into a groan of pleasure when he sucked at the spot and then smoothed his tongue over it. 

While his mouth continued to explore your throat, his left hand began its own expedition. It trailed up your stomach and landed on your right breast. When he squeezed and felt your hard nipple straining against the confines of your clothes, he let out a low growl. You gasped when he balled up the front of your blouse in his fist. He wouldn’t dare. He pulled down, tearing the still damp fabric apart. Before you had the chance to rebuke him for having the audacity to rip one of your favorite shirts, his hand once again cupped your breast, this time slipping underneath your bra. His thick fingers rolled over your sensitive nipple and the sound you made was something so obscene you couldn’t believe that you had just produced it. He rubbed your already swollen nub raw. His fingers pinched and plucked and squeezed until you were a writhing mess in his arms, trying to escape the overstimulation.

“Shh, shh, shh,” his lurid voice whispered in your ear, “it’s okay, Y/N, I’ve got you. You’re doing just fine, sweetheart. God, you feel like perfection.” Suddenly, he stopped his ministrations and slid his hand up to your neck. He didn’t squeeze, just wrapped his fingers around your throat. He felt the thrum of your heartbeat against his thumb. Sebastian inhaled deeply, basking in your scent, “I knew you would be perfection,” 

He caressed the underside of your jaw with his calloused thumb and smiled when you shuddered at his touch. You were at his mercy, he was the one in charge now. It was he who made the rules and kept you in place, “You may think no man is ever looking at you, but trust me, I haven’t been able to look away since the day we met.” His tone was deceptively calm, but his heavy panting proved that he was just as worked up as you were. 

“You’re my every desire,” he growled, “do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about doing this exact thing? About pinning you down and touching every inch of you? Touching, caressing, squeezing your body until you’re a moaning mess. Unable to utter a single, infuriating word.” As he spoke he released his hold on your wrists, instead moving to the button of your jeans. He paused, his fingers skimmed over the clasp as if waiting to see what your next move would be. You couldn’t move, even if they were free now. You weren’t sure how he would react if you did, and you didn’t want to find out. This was not the Sebastian Stan you knew. This was something dark and unpredictable, something primal. A small part of your brain claimed that the real reason you didn’t fight was that you wanted him. That you wanted Sebastian to fuck you until you forgot your own name. “Good girl,” he remarked when you stayed still. You involuntarily preened at his praise, arching your back and grinding your ass against his crotch. He was hard, and from the feel of him, he was large. 

Sebastian hissed, sucking in a groan at the feeling of your ass against his throbbing erection, “You are infuriating, dragă,” he knew you despised his Romanian nickname for you. You had always assumed he used it to taunt you. You were nobody’s “darling.” Maybe he had been sincere this whole time. “You drive me crazy with every order, every scowl, every negative comment you throw at yourself.” He slipped his hand under your waistband, roaming down towards your sex. His fingers danced just above your heated center. “I think I’ve finally found a way to shut you up,” He cupped your mound, his chest rumbled when he felt the evidence of just how aroused you were. 

“S-Sebastian, please–” you weren’t sure if you were pleading for him to stop or for him to actually do something. Sebastian decided it was the latter and plunged a thick finger into your dripping pussy. 

He drew in a quick breath, “Fuck, you’re tight, sweetheart. Not sure if you’ll be able to take all of me-” he added another finger, working to get you ready-“but we won’t know until we try.” He continued to press and stretch your walls. When he added a third finger you lost it, giving up on holding back any sounds. The brief moments his palm brushed over your clit you mewled, desperate for more pressure on the pulsating bud. 

His hand that was still fisted around your neck squeezed before dropping down. He pushed down your pants even more so that they laid at your knees He pulled your thick thighs further apart, widening your stance for easier access to your drenched hole. When his fingers began an assault on your bundle of nerves you threw your head back, and obscene sounds flew from your lips. The fingers inside of you pressed against your G-spot and you started to tremble from the overstimulation.

Sebastian ran his chin along your jaw. The knowledge that he was making you come undone with only his hands was driving him crazy. He ground his clothed erection against your ass, smiling when you gasped at the feel of him. Focus back on you, he flattened his thumb on your clit, massaging it with precise motions. He was greedy for your release. 

It was all too much: Sebastian’s fingers pumping in and out of you, the exquisite pressure he was forcing upon your clit, the feel of his heavy breaths against your ear. You convulsed in his arms, your back arching up as molten lava flowed through your veins. 

You were still recovering from the high his fingers had just pulled from you, but Sebastian didn’t care. There was no way he was waiting another second to fuck you. He spun you around to face him. Your breath hitched in your throat when his hands moved to his pants. He pulled out his cock. It was thick and long, precum was already leaking from the tip. He stroked it from base to tip while his eyes devoured your disheveled state. Your breasts bounced with your every gasping breath. Your peaked nipples were still raw from his earlier torment. It looked like you might crumble that very second, too wrecked to stand up straight. You could barely hold your own weight, he had turned your bones into jelly. Sebastian smirked when he noticed the numerous marks he had left all over your neck and shoulders. His gaze wandered back to your face and his cock twitched when he saw the arousal clear in your eyes. Your irises were just thin halos of color shadowed by your blown-out pupils. It was a good thing he had already gotten you off because he didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep from blowing his load once inside your velvety walls.

 “Look at me, dragă.” 

You refused, even though he had just given you the most intense orgasm of your life. There was something about this new position. You felt more vulnerable and didn’t want him to see that reflected in your expression. Instead, you turned your face away from his. That was a mistake.

Sebastian growled. He snatched your neck in his grip again, jerking your head forward to face him dead on. “What did I fucking say?” 

Your hazy focus zeroed in on him, hyperaware of the beating of your heart against his heavy palm. His fingers squeezed tighter and you rasped out, “To look at you.” 

His grip compressed even more, “Say my name. I want to make sure you know who’s in control now.”

It was a desperate fight for air to get the words out, “Y-you are-” He squeezed tighter- “Sebastian!” You managed to squeak out, seeing spots. His grip loosened enough for you to heave in a gasp of air, your body tingling from the return of oxygen to your veins. His hand was still wrapped around your throat, though, his intense blue eyes seemed to see into your soul, “You’re in control, Sebastian.”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N,” his low murmur was laced with warning, “You’re gonna take every inch I give you; gonna be a good girl for me,” his lips widened into an ominous grin, “I’m not going to hold back.” 

You gasped as he nudged your aching folds with the tip of his cock, running it up and down your pussy lips. He thrust into you without further warning. His lips met yours in a deep kiss at the same time. It was an overload of sensations, his tongue caressed the crease of your mouth, demanding entrance, while his hips pounded into you relentlessly. You arched into him, mewling at his unforgiving pace. Your hands flew up to his toned shoulders, gripping them so hard that Sebastian could feel the bite of your fingernails beneath his shirt. Finally prying your lips apart with his tongue, he crashed his lips onto yours, locking your tongues in a heated dance that took your breath away and left you wanting more. More of his mouth, more of his touch, more of him. 

Sebastian seemed to read your thoughts. He rutted into you with even more force. Your pussy walls ached at the stinging stretch of his thick cock. The hand that wasn’t around your neck grabbed your thigh. As he lifted it to wrap around his waist your pant leg slipped down to pool at your feet. His fingers dug into your thigh as he held your leg up. The new angle allowed him to slide against your upper wall with each thrust, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that sent shivers down your spine. He released his hold on your throat and brought it down to your center. When he massaged your clit with his dexterous fingers, you saw stars.

“Holy fuck,” you heaved, trying to get air in your lungs, “Sebastian! Oh my god, Sebastian-” All you could do was string together a jumble of incoherent words and moans and cries of pleasure-filled pain.

“Are you close, baby?” his raspy voice teased. He removed his hand from your core, resting it just above where you needed him. You whined at the loss and tried to grind up to reach fingers. He clucked his tongue disapprovingly, “Awww, poor thing. Do you wanna cum, sweetheart?” 

You nodded, desperate for release.

“Use your words, dragă,” he tapped his fingers lightly, still too far away for the motion to give you any relief.

“Y-Yes, I want to cum,” you hoped that would be enough for him to take pity on your unruly state.

It wasn’t. “Then beg for it. You already got to cum once, why should a disobedient, aggravating slut like you get to cum again?” The angle of his thrusts changed, he was chasing his own release now. If you didn’t convince him, he wasn’t going to let you cum. You didn’t have the energy in you anymore to be defiant for the sake of your dignity. Screw dignity. All you knew was that you needed him to fuck you until you came undone on his fat cock.

“Please, please let me cum on your dick. It’s all I want. I need it,” His hips angled up to brush against your G-spot again, but he still didn’t touch your clit, “Please, I’ll do anything. I’m sorry for what I did. Please forgive me, Sebastian, I need to cum. Make me cum on your thick cock. Please, Sebastian, please.” 

Sebastian tensed when you used his name, his hooded gaze darkened with a hungry desire at the sound of it coming from your lips. Satisfied, he brought his fingers back to your throbbing bud, “That’s my good girl.” You shrieked in delight. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking tight.” He pressed harder against your clit, repeatedly rolling over the spot that made you squeal in ecstasy. 

He groaned at your sounds, “You’re gonna cum when I tell you to, sweetheart.” His hips pumped up into yours, driving you both further to the edge. Sebastian’s grunts and moans filled the space, “Cum for me, Y/N.” Sebastian ordered as he took you, “Wanna feel your perfect cunt milk my cock dry,” his words sent you hurtling over the edge, and with one more snap of his hips, you were gone. Your insides spasmed and your entire body convulsed from the waves of pure bliss washing over you. You cried out his name, your nails digging into his defined shoulders. Sebastian kept moving his fingers against your clit, making your pussy clamp around his massive cock even tighter. 

Sebastian buried himself to the hilt and his load exploded inside of you. “Holy fuck!” He roared as thick ropes of cum coated your quivering walls. His body shuddered at the impact of his release. He felt lightheaded. He dug his fingers into the plump flesh of your waist to ground himself. Your soft whimpers were like music to his ears. He pulled you to him, cementing his cock inside of your still trembling walls. He shifted his hold so that one arm wrapped protectively around your waist. His other hand came up to gently cradle the side of your face. You were too spent to try and object to his hold. It was like your bodies melded into one; his hard, sculpted edges melted into your soft, rounded curves. Sebastian drank in the feeling of you. He was never going to let you go. His fingers lifted your chin so that your eyes met his and he planted a chaste kiss on your lips. “Looks like you’re not as repellent as you thought, dragă.”

(P.S. I really like this handler!reader concept so I might make some more that are also stand-alone's.)

[corvinearcher]

I love Equius and I wish we'd gotten to see more of him! The thing that really fascinates me is that he's supposedly the troll who's most bought into the caste system, but in terms of the actual harm he does others, he's the least violent of all the highbloods—despite textually having a huge temper that he constantly struggles to control. Actually, out of all the beta trolls, there are only two who have never tried to kill another troll—Karkat and Equius.

His worldview is incredibly screwed up, but when you take into account that he genuinely has that worldview, his actual actions toward others are pretty benevolent. He is horrifyingly controlling towards Nepeta and Aradia, but he's surprised and distressed when he realizes he's not acting in their best interest (e.g. when Aradia is angry about the chip).

He does the things he thinks he's supposed to. He tries really hard not to hurt others, and mostly succeeds. He's got a long way to go, but if he hadn't been murdered at 6 sweeps he could have had plenty of time to get there.

D -- > OH MY GOD I COULD NOT HAVE SAID IT BETTER MYSELF listen I literally love equius so much, and we got two second of content and it pisses me off! Not to mention trying to find any fan content that doesn't make him a fucking joke is INSANE.

D -- > But like his character is so much more complex than people make him out to be. I mean one interesting thing for example, is the fact that Darkleer ruined his own life sparing Deciple. And Equius and Nepeta are THE example for meowrails!! BRAZY. AND LIKE, OHMMAAGOSH his whole thing with the hemospectrum I could go ON and WHAT MAKES ME MAD ALSO IS THAT EVERY BODY THINKS HE'S A WEIRDO CREEP. BUT THEY DON'T UNDERSTAND HEEE DOESNT UNDERSTAND AHHHHH

D -- > Like his whole thing with strength which is super interesting to get into, has a reason. Age, strength, hormones, troll insanity IT ALL COMES TOGETHER. HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND HIMSELF AN NEITHER DOES ANYONE ELSE AHH. Also almos nobody talks about the bot fighting he CASUALLY JUST DID ALL THE TIME. OH OH ALSO LIKE THE HEMOSPECTRUM SHIT, THE ONLY TIMES HE'S INDULGED IN IT AFFECTING OTHER IS EITHER WHEN 1: he's talking to gam gam (LOVE THEM) and 2: when he thought he was doing the right thing for aradia and 3: protecting the shit out of Nepeta GOING AGAINST WHAT EVERY FUCKING CELL IN HIS BODY IS TELLING HIM. HE'S CONSTANTLY THINKING HE'S ABOVE EVERYONE AND EVERYONE HAS AN ORDER BUT HE GOT SO MUCH BETTE WITH IT FOR THE TWO SECOND WE HAD WITH HIM!!!

D -- > Like, specifically his lineage, take Darkleer. The starter of it. He was directly under the Grand High blood. Obviously they would've been somewhat close, cause sure GHB had other trolls like thr pyropes to catch and decide the fates of certain trolls, but he had DARKLEER killing them. He had HIM doing all of the big shit. CMON. So that constant odlreer to order worship to worship regulation obviously fucked some shit up. And so now with equius, of course he's going to be obsessed with th hemospectrum, of course he's obsessed with gam gam, BECAUSE LOOK AT DARKLEER SIMPING LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. (Worded funny, comic effect I swear XD)

D -- > This is why I'm a Zahhak lover because theyr so much more complex than a few of the mos popular characters. We could read into the zahhaks for hours but since he's not that big of a character, NO ONE DOES AN I'M SAD. I JUST WANT EQUIUS FAN ART THAT ISN'T MAKING FUN OF HIM. HUSSIE PLAYED FAVORITES AND EQQY WAS AT THE FUCKING BOTTOM >:'(

D -- > I'm so sorry this is so long I just fucking LOVE talking about Equius to anyone who will listen >:D

[doccywhomst]

I decided to make a tumblr to follow fandoms, mostly doctor who, and your blog was one of the first I found and I feel so welcome and happy, like hell yeah, I finally found my people!

Also which master is most likely to give the doctor a call and ask them to explain what a meme is?

YES!!! welcome to the nerd pit - i fell in years ago and i've been dragging unsuspecting nerds into it ever since. enjoy your stay ❤

now, it's time for... drumroll please.....

which masters don't know what a meme is?

let's begin.

koschei: he's a complete teacher's pet, just an utter geek. bitch has never even heard of a meme. you start talking about memes and he immediately goes

delgado master: he knows perfectly well what a meme is. in fact, he often calls Three just to brag about all the hot new memes that he's seeing in the future, since Three is stuck in the early 70s. he's a bastard.

master: good evening, my dear doctor.

doctor: oh my, what is it now?

master: i just thought you should know that there's a terrible plague sweeping the earth in fifty years time, and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it!

doctor: which plague might that be?

master: ligma.

crispy master: tempted to say that he doesn't know what a meme is, but he'd never stoop so low as to call the doctor and admit it. he pretends to know what a meme is, but he can't ever seem to get it quite right... either that, or he only knows about "can i haz cheeseburger" memes, which is a fate worse than death.

ainley master: fucker absolutely knows what a meme is. he frequently calls Five to drop 'em, knowing that Five has dad energy and is therefore memeproof.

master: hello, my dear doctor!

doctor: master! what are you up to?

master: gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss.

doctor:

doctor: *exchanging frantic whispers with turlough in the background*

doctor: *returning to the phone* is this another one of your "mee-mee"s?

he's also canonically a furry.

roberts master: i feel like he has no idea what a meme is, but Eight knows lots and lots of memes, so the vibe is flipped. he appears at the top of the stairs in his insane get-up and Eight just whales on him. no competition.

doctor: what are thooose?

master: ...

doctor: his hair? wack. his gear? wack. his jewelry? wack. his foot-stance? wack. the way that he talks? wack. the way that he doesn’t even like to smile? wack.

master: ...??

doctor: me? i'm tight as FUCK

the master is extremely confused and disturbed by it, so it can be seen as strategic.

macqueen master: he's a proud memepage owner. in fact, he frequently steals memes from the future and drops them in the past, pretending that he invented him - his memepage rockets up in popularity because of this. what a motherfucker.

boy master: i feel like he knows what a meme is? i don't know that much about him, if i'm honest. i think that he has polar opposite energies to koschei. he's still really smart, i bet, but he pulls pranks on the teacher and gets detention every day. probably carves memes into the desks. absolute villain.

jacobi master: when he's in the time war, he keeps the memepage running, continuing to devise new and evil memes - but when he uses the chameleon arch and becomes yana? he's blissfully unaware of the concept of a meme. as soon as he opens that fob watch, though...

he enters MEME OVERDRIVE. all the memes come flooding back at once.

simm master: he continues the memepage legacy, even as prime minister. both him and Ten know a lot about memes (Ten knows them from Rose, mostly), so it's just constant banter. a steady stream of back-and-forth meme battles: verbal, telepathic, sign language, in multiple alien tongues. martha begs them to stop, but it's too late - they finally know about memes at the same time. the end is nigh.

missy: a meme expert. she knows past memes, future memes, alien memes, memes that were erased by collapsing paradoxes - every line she says is a subtle reference to a meme. we're just not advanced enough to understand, and neither is poor Twelve. in exchange for his tutelage, bill explains memes to him. yes, there are quizzes.

dhawan master: oh. oh ho. hee hee HEEEEE. HOO HOO HOOOOO. oh boy. his brain got super scrambled during regeneration and now he doesn't know a single meme - it's like watching the library of alexandria burn. BUT, hilariously, Thirteen also doesn't know anything about memes. this leads to an awful attempt to re-live Ten and Simm's "Great Memebattles of 2009," except neither of them knows how to use memes AT ALL.

master: *visibly sweating* y-you're a soy girl, doctor. barack obama's eyes. a crab shooting lasers...?

doctor: uh, well, at least i'm not a, um, *glances at smudged writing on her palm* a sad, tiny meow meow! *smacks his arm* this time lord can fit so many idiots in it.

they try so hard, grasping at straws.... bless.

[bangtanreadingcorner]

the fact is • jeon jeongguk

plot – you're a waitress that gets stuck serving jeon jeongguk, who can't make his mind up on what to eat.

words – 6.4K

"Indecisive snot, aren't you?"

The words are out before you could stop them. Your natural instinct is to take it back and apologize, but this idiot has pushed you over the edge. He has changed his order six times and that was after adding sides and removing this or that. The customer - the arrogant brat of a chaebol, you thought to yourself - looking at his menu snapped his gaze to you, eyes widening in surprise, disbelief and was that intrigue? Nope. Probably just a trick of the light.

"Excuse me?" He says, eyebrows still raised to high heaven.

You weigh your options silently for a few moments. You could try and kiss his ass and loose your job. Or you could finish what you started and loose your job. Because there was no question, you were loosing your job. Speaking to a customer like that, in a restaurant as high end as this? The ultimate no-no.

The choice was a no brainer.

You give him a flat look, "Are you deaf?"

A surprised scoff leaves him and for a moment he stares at you, and then a smirk pulls at the corners of his mouth. "Do you not know who I am?"

"Of course I know who you are, Jeon Jeongguk, I don't live under a rock." You roll your eyes at him.

"Huh." He frowns at you.

You frown back, "What?"

"I've never met someone so . . . outspoken before. Normally people are all compliments and well wishes." Jeongguk doesn't say how delightfully refreshing it is. Like a spring breeze, spreading through his veins and breathing colour into his monotonous life. This is the most excitement he's had since he went parachuting eight months ago. That is a sad thought, but unfortunately a true one.

"Yeah, well," You shrug, tapping your pen against your notebook. "Kissing ass and lying are two things that didn't make it onto my list of qualities."

"Speaking your mind, obviously did." He notes, still smirking.

"Excellent observational skills there, Sherlock." You deadpan.

Jeongguk laughs and you don't like the way it makes warmth simmer in your belly. He looks up at you with dark eyes and you privately think for all that the media gets wrong, they have one thing right. Jeon Jeongguk is ridiculously attractive. "What's your name?"

"Are you blind or illiterate?" You raise a brow down at him. He looks caught off guard for a moment.

"Um...neither?" It comes out unsure, hesitant.

"Then what exactly is stopping you from reading my name badge?" You ask, tapping the badge on your chest with your pen. You were already losing your job, so you might as well make the best of it.

He looks embarrassed for a second, eyes dropping to the table, cheeks dusting the faintest shade of pink.

You raise a brow, "So, are you going to order or are you going to complain to my manager and get me fired?"

"Fired for what?" He asks.

You want to snap at him, but the genuine confusion in his eyes made you hold your tongue. For once. In a 'duh' tone, you tell him. "Speaking my mind."

"Ah. Right." Realisation lights up in his eyes. "I could have you fired for speaking to me like that." He says, like the thought never occurred to him.

"I'll go get my manager then." You say and turn on your heel, not at all surprised.

Jeongguk's mind goes into an epic panic as you turn your back on him and he blurts a quick, "Wait."

"What?" You ask, turning back to him with an uninterested look.

"I said that I could. Not that I would." He tells you and it makes your speechless for about five seconds.

Then you squint at him with a slight glare, "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?"

"You obviously want something in exchange for keeping quiet. What is it?" You speak matter-of-factly. After a moment you add, "Just know, if it's something sexual or in that direction, I'd rather loose my job."

Jeongguk gapes at you, looking stunned. "I don't know whether to be insulted by the insinuation that I need to blackmail someone into sleeping with me or that you'd rather loose your job than sleeping with me."

"So sorry for offending your delicate sensibilities." You drawled sarcastically. "You still haven't told me what you want."

"Well, I like coming here often and when I do and you're my server, I'd like you to always speak your mind around me." He said, with the smallest of shrugs, looking down at the silverware on the table instead of at you.

Confusion sweeps through you, his request catching you off guard. "Really? That's it?"

"Yes." He nods stiffly.

"I don't understand." You admit.

"You don't have to. You asked me what I want, this is it." He looks at you again, eyes still dark and piercing and you can't understand what he's thinking.

"Fine, okay, yeah, I can do that." You nods eventually, noticing how his shoulders untense just a bit. You look at him, curious and full of questions, but cautious enough to not actually ask. "Are you gonna order now?"

"Why don't you surprise me? I can't decide what I want to eat." He says, handing you the menu.

"I'm shocked." You deadpan with a faux smile, before looking at him seriously. "Are you allergic to anything?"

"No." He shakes his head, lacing his fingers together and resting his hands on the table.

Your mind races for a few moments before settling on a dish. You nod at Jeongguk. "Okay, I'll be back with your food in a while then."

***

Three weeks later, you haven't served Jeongguk again. It's not that he hasn't been in, oh no, he has. You've seen him, caught him staring and then looking away quickly. He just hasn't sat at one of your tables again. Each week, the tables get rotated and there is four rotations, so you'll only be on Jeongguk's usual table next week.

You walked into the kitchen, just coming off your lunch break when Lee stops you and says, "Table 12 for you."

You look at Jae, who was on table 12 this week and got a hostile glare. You ignore her and look at Lee with confusion, "But I'm not on table 12 today."

"You were requested and customers here get what they want." Lee shrugs, giving you a 'it is what it is' look.

"By who?" You ask, having some idea of the answer. There is only one customer you know that would request you. You are always polite to the other customers but with an air of detachment, that keeps them from prying and you from getting into trouble. Until three weeks ago, that is.

"Jeon Jeongguk." Lee says, confirming your suspicions.

"Motherfucker." You swear.

Jae looks down her nose from you, "Don't he used to it. It won't last. He'll get bored of you soon enough."

"I hope so." You huff, as Jae walks away with a less than pleased expression.

"What?" Lee asks, her shock obvious.

"You heard me."

Lee tilts her head at you in disbelief and curiousity, "So, you're not trying to get into his pants?"

"Uh, no." You frown at her. Sure, he's hot but you know your place. You also need money than you need to get laid. "Why?"

"Most girls try when they work here, but everytime they try something, Mr. Jeon complains and they get fired." Lee explains.

Something suddenly made sense to you, "Is that what Jae's trying to do?"

"No one will say it to her face, but yeah, it is." Lee nods, shrugging a little. "She's jealous that he requested you, when you've worked here just over a month, served him once, and she's worked here for almost two years and he hasn't blinked in her direction."

"Huh," You frown, lost in your thoughts. "I wonder why he didn't get me fired then."

"Why? What did you say to him?" Lee eyes you curiously.

"Called him an indecisive snot." You smirk gleefully, happy that you got away with talking to him like you want and not getting fired because of it.

"Right." Lee says in a tone that made it clear she doesn't believe you.

"I did." You insist.

Lee waves you off, and you exit the kitchen, walking into the dining room, heading over to Jeongguk's regular table.

You look at him as he comes into your line of direct sight. His one leg was shaking, eyes shifting around the room, fingers tapping the table restlessly. When he spots you walking over to him, he stills completely. A smile - a cute one, you admit to yourself and no one else - spreads on his lips as he breathes your name, "Y/N."

You give him a look, "Did you miss me or something?"

"What? No." Jeongguk scoffs quickly. "I was bored. And you cure my boredom."

You raise your eyebrows at him, head going forward a little, "I cure your boredom?" You repeat, slowly. Maybe he's kidding.

But Jeongguk just nods at you as if it makes all the sense in the world, "Yeah. It's like live entertainment while I eat."

You scowl at him, "I'm not a circus clown."

"That's not what I meant!" He exclaims, voice a little too loud, causing heads to swivel in your direction. He takes a breath and speaks again, softer this time. "I just meant that it's nice. Or it was nice, the one time I actually got to talk to you."

"So, you did miss me." You tease good naturedly. Jeongguk doesn't answer, just stares resolutely down at the table. You sigh, feeling fond instead of annoyed. You hide a smile as you ask, "What will it be today?"

Jeongguk looks at you again, hesitantly at first, then fully when he sees your expectant gaze, "Surprise me."

Now you were surprised, "Again?"

"I liked what you ordered last time." He does that small shrug again. Actually, it's less of a shrug, and more a slight lift of the shoulders. You notice that he has broad shoulders, and the suit he's wearing only makes them look better. You push those thoughts away, focusing on the conversation.

"And if you don't like it this time?" You challenge.

"I did say surprise me, and surprises can be positive or negative." Jeongguk decides not to tell her that this is his favorite restaurant and he knows the menu by heart. He knows and likes every dish, so there was no way he wouldn't like something she serves him. And he's curious as to what she'll decide this time.

You snort, laughing lightly, "You know, you're not as bad as I thought you were."

Jeongguk looks mildly offended, "I'll have you know, I'm a catch."

"I'm sure." You nod, hiding a grin.

"I am." He insists and you had to admit, he is attractive.

"Yes, right up until the moment you open your mouth." You say honestly, writing down one of the dishes on the menu.

"Rude." He pouts a little and you suppress the urge to giggle, of all things.

"Maybe," You concede. "But it's the truth." You picked up his menu, turning on your heel to go to the kitchen.

"So, how do I . . . improve?" Jeongguk asks when you come back with his food, continuing with the conversation where you left off.

"Do I look like a life coach to you?" You set down the food. "Enjoy."

"Thanks." Jeongguk grins at her. "And, no, but if I went to one they'd tell me what they think I want to hear, not what I need to hear."

You stare at him for a few seconds and he looks back unflinchingly. "Well," You press your lips together. "I guess you should start with why you want to change."

That makes Jeongguk falter. He can't very well say, 'so I can impress you, since my money doesn't seem too' and he thinks for a bit. "I have come to realise that maybe I treat people unfairly based on how much money they have. I would like to change that."

Your eyebrows goes up, "That's surprisingly deep, coming from you."

"I'm not swallow." He defends himself.

You nod complacently, "Right, well, the answer is easy but actually doing it, will all depend on you."

"What do I do?"

"Just, think before you say something. Ask yourself, can my words hurt this person?"

"And if they deserve it?" Jeongguk wonders.

"The right answer would be to still be considerate, because two wrongs don't make a right, but I hate being a hypocrite, so go for it, if they deserve it. I mean, it's not like I held back when you annoyed me." You gave a shrug. "I should go. We're not allowed to loiter at the tables."

Jeongguk wants to ask her to sit with him and keep him company some more, but he knows he would be setting himself up for rejection. Instead, he just looks at her with a half smile. "Just when I think I have you all figured out, you do or say something that proves me wrong."

"My mom always used to say, you can spend a lifetime with someone and still learn something new about them every day. People evolve everyday and you'll never be who you are right now, tomorrow again."

"She sounds like a wise woman." Jeongguk remarks.

You smile, nostalgia making your heart warm, "Yeah, she was."

"I'm sorry." Jeongguk says, catching onto the past tense. A lump forms in your throat out of nowhere.

"Thank you." You swallowed thickly, clearing your throat. You gave him a shaky smile, hoping he wouldn't notice. "See, you're doing better already."

Jeongguk did notice but decided not to call her out on it. He just smiled up at her softly, watching after her figure when she walks away.

***

"You know, if I didn't know that you come here everyday, I'd say you that you are stalking me." You teased Jeongguk when you go to take his order for the fifth time in a row. You've had a day off, inbetween, but when you showed up for your next shift, Jeongguk was there and everytime he's requested you. By now, whoever was on rotation for his table, just lets you know whenever he shows up.

"And how do you know that?" Jeongguk raises a curious eyebrow at you.

"I complained to Lee about you and she told me." You explain to him, mentally running over the menu in your head. Jeongguk told you on the third day to just order for him everytime. So, when you walk to his table under the guise of taking his order, the two of you just talk.

"Lee?" He inquires.

"She's my friend and another server here."

"Ah." Jeongguk nods in realisation. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"You can ask, but that doesn't guarantee I'll answer." You say, giving him a cheeky smile.

She has a beautiful smile, Jeongguk thinks to himself. He shakes himself out of his thoughts and looks her in the eyes, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

You frown down at him, finding the question odd. He's never asked anything too personal. Just normal things, what you're studying, what you do when you're not working. Sometimes you'll tell him a story of something dumb you did as a kid, but he'll never outright ask. "No."

A thought suddenly occurs to Jeongguk and he doesn't really want to ask because that'll destroy every hope he has but he needs to know. He quirks a brow at her, "Girlfriend?"

You snort at the question, "No, I'm straight. My cousin swings both ways though. Nearly gave his mom a stroke when he came out at our annual Christmas family dinner two years ago."

"Oh." Jeongguk wants to sag in relief, wants to let out a thankful cheer, but settles for just a small smile and letting out a breath of relief.

"Why are you asking?"

He does that little shrug that isn't really a shrug thing. "I was just wondering. You never really talk about one, or even someone you're interested in."

"Okay, if there was someone, why would I tell you?" You are teasing, but he doesn't know as you look at him blankly.

"I was just curious." Jeongguk huffs defensively.

"Yeah, yeah, settle down." You snicker. After a moment you say, "I guess I don't talk about it because there hasn't been anyone to talk about."

"Really?" Jeongguk beams up at you hopefully, eyes glittering.

"Really." You roll your eyes, but there was a slight warmth in your cheeks that wasn't there before.

***

Seven months and many short conversations later – in which you learnt many things about Jeongguk and vica versa – you walk up to his table with a smile, genuinely excited to see your sort of friend. The smile fades from your face when you lay eyes on him – his whole body was tense, you could tell even from a distance, he was glaring out the window, clenched fists laying on the table. Something wasn't right. You quicken your pace, concern swirling in your belly. You stop at his table, feeling your heartbeat quicken. "What's wrong?"

"None of your fucking business." He snaps at you, words so venomous it makes you take a step back in shock, but mostly hurt.

Jeongguk regrets the words the moment they're out because he didn't mean them. He doesn't want to fight or argue. He came to see her to feel better. Now he snapped at her. He waits, for whatever tongue lashing she is about to give him. He'd deserve it and he'll take it. But she says nothing. Somehow her silence was much worse than any insult she can hurl at him. Her face closes off, he watches it happen as her fingers tighten around the pen and notepad she uses to take orders, and panic sparks beneath his skin, overriding all the anger he feels.

No. His mind rebels against the thought immediately.

"What can I get for you today, Sir?" Her voice is perfectly polite as she asks the question, like it was the first time he met her. Until he made her snap after changing his order for a sixth time.

No, no, no, no, no! Not this. Anything but this. His heartbeat quickens.

Jeongguk was quickly turning frantic, "Y/N, please, I-"

"We have a lovely special today." She goes on as if he didn't speak, eyes void of the usual fire when she'd argue with him or the gentle warmth when she sometimes smiled at him and called him an idiot. It was the only times he ever liked being called an idiot.

He listens to her droning on about he specials, explaining them. Jeongguk's heart drops all the way down to his feet. It feels like someone pulled a rug from beneath his feet, and he is thrown off balance from the how utterly wrong it feels, how much it bothers him, hurts him, that she is talking to him like he is just another random customer. Like she hasn't told him how she got stuck in a tree, climbing after the neighbors cat. Playing with their cat because her parents never allowed pets.

A cold feeling of dread washes over him because Jeongguk has no idea to fix whatever he just fucked up.

***

You very almost cry when Jeongguk snaps at you, feeling irrationally hurt by his words. You shove it all down as you pull up your walls and shut him out to protect yourself. You serve him as quickly as possible, walking away without a friendly word.

"Trouble in paradise?" Jae smirks at you when you come back from serving Jeongguk.

You glare at her, not in the mood for dealing with her jealousy today. "No, just looking at your face is enough to put anyone in a bad mood."

Jae's eyes widened, fury spreading on her face. "You bitch!" She yells, raising a hand to slap you.

You smirk, catching her wrist easily. "Careful, just now you break a nail."

You let her go, walking away. You wait until you're in the bathroom, safely away from prying eyes in a locked stall, before letting you face crumple, only letting one tear escape before getting yourself under control.

You finish your shift, completely exhausted by the end of it – emotionally and physically. The last thing you have the energy for, is Jeongguk, so of course he's waiting for you at the personnel entrance and exit when you step outside. Intent on ignoring him, you pretend that you don't see him and you start walking in the direction of the train station.

Jeongguk follows you, apparently not easily deterred. "Will you just talk to me please?"

"What would you like me to say, Sir?" You ask in your most professional voice, looking ahead and not glancing at him.

"I'd like you to talk to me and stop treating me like I'm a customer." He says, sounding frustrated and desperate.

"You are a customer, Sir." You answer, still not looking at him.

"For fuck sakes, will you stop with the 'sir' already and talk to me like you used to?" Jeongguk all but explodes, stepping infront of you, and looking down at you for a change. It's startling, for a moment. You always look down at him when he sits at the table and it never occured to you that he's taller than you. He sets his hands on your shoulders (they're big and warm and you feel surprisingly safe, even when he squeezes slightly), frantic and desperate eyes looking into yours. "You don't even have to talk, you can yell or scream or shout for all I care, just please stop."

"You want me to talk? Fine." You glare up at him, shrugging out of his hold and taking a step back. He's way to close for comfort. "Look, I get I'm not exactly from the same side of town as you are, but that doesn't mean I'm incapable of empathy. I'd bet that I have more empathy than most people you know. So, when someone I see as a kind of friend, snaps at me when I ask them what's wrong out of concern, when they could have said they don't want to talk about it, it hurts." You rant, a little out of breath. "Do you understand that? You hurt me."

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I am so sorry, you have no idea. I shouldn't have snapped at you and I regretted it the moment I did it. I was angry, and I know it isn't an excuse but it's the truth."

"Sorry isn't going to fix it," You say, voice edging on being too sharp. Your heart twists when his face falls. You soften a bit. "But it is a step in the right direction."

Jeongguk perks up, "What's another?"

"For starters, next time you don't want to talk about me, tell me instead of snapping at me." You give him a pointed glare, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jeongguk gives you an apologetic look, "Again, I'm sorry. I honestly didn't mean to snap at you. I came to talk to you, hoping I'd calm down a bit. I had an ugly fight some dumbass that tried to sell low quality material to us and I took it out of you."

You are reminded of the fact that he is the heir to his father's multi-billion won international conglomerate and for some reason, it makes you sad. You smile at him, ignoring the sadness. "Well, you're forgiven but I'm not forgotting."

"I wouldn't dream of it." He grins cheekily. He paused for a moment, then smirks at you. "So, we're friends now?"

You groan, "I should have known that would come back to bit me I'm the ass."

***

A large bouquet of pink tulips is delivered to you the next morning. Inside is a card that reads:

Thank you for never giving up on me. -JJK

Lee whistles loudly when she sees them and your cheek burn. "Someone must really like you."

"It's from a friend." You say, ignoring the fluttering in your belly.

"My point still stands. Those are out of season, you know." She remarks.

You nod, "I know. They're my favourite."

You finish your shift with a smile on your face. Until your boss calls you into his office.

"Yes, Sir?" You ask, still smiling and the bouquet of flowers in your one hand, backpack up on your shoulders and ready to go home.

"Y/N. I'll get right to the point. There's been a complaint that you've been too friendly with one of our customers." He says bluntly.

You almost drop your flowers in shock, "What?"

"I'm sorry to do this, Y/N, but it is a direct violation of the contract you signed when you started here. Professionalism is our top priority. I have no choice but to fire you." He says, and he does look sorry as he holds out an envelope to you. "This is the week's wages. Again, I'm sorry. You are a good worker."

"You're firing me because of something someone accused me off?" You ask, indignant and a little angry. "You're not even going to ask me if I did it? And if I did it, why I didn't stop?"

"The accusation came from a very trustworthy customer that was concerned that our reputation might be damaged." Your manager says. "If it gets to the owner and he finds out I did nothing, I could loose my job."

You scoff, taking the envelope. If you didn't need the money, you'd have thrown it back in his face. "So, it's okay for me to loose mine?"

"I'm sorry."

"So am I." You say before turning around and leaving.

***

The first day she's not there, Jeongguk brushes it off, thinking she has the day off and forgot to tell him. The second day, he starts to worry, just a little. The third day, he almost thinks himself into a mental breakdown. The fourth day, he demands to see the manager.

"Mr. Jeon." The manager greets with a smile that was clearly fake. Jeongguk thought back to Y/N, who never smiled much but when she did, it was honest and pure and breathtaking. He misses it and would do whatever it takes to get it back.

"Where is Y/N?" He demands, voice and gaze equally cold and intimidating. It's a side of him that she broke through within minutes, digging up the real Jeongguk and pulling him to the surface. The past months, he's been able to breathe again, live instead of just existing, waiting for the next person that wants his money. But that cold and calculating side of him is still there.

The manager pales and Jeongguk's worry increases. Did something happen to her? The manager shifts on his feet but still doesn't answer. "If you don't answer me within the next five seconds, I will call the owner and ask him to answer me."

"S-she was fired." The man stutters out.

Jeongguk feels his stomach drop. She never outright said it but he knows she depends heavily on the income from this job. It worries him, because he has this urge to take care of her. He wants to give her as much money as she needs, for her to live comfortably, but he knows she wouldn't take it. He glares at the manager, "Why?"

"Someone filed a complaint against her. She was getting to friendly with y-you." The manager says, looking a little terrified.

Jeongguk clenches his jaw, "And instead of asking me if I have a problem with it, you fired her?"

"Her contract says-"

Jeongguk stands up, towering over the man in height and size. "I don't give a shit what her contract says. How many times have I filed a complaint when the servers made me inappropriate offers and crude suggestions? I never once complained about her."

Jeongguk doesn't give the manager anymore time to do anything other than letting out a squeak before turning around and leaving the restaurant.

***

Five days after you were fired, you started too feel it. The absence of Jeongguk's presence. At first, you didn't notice it. To wrapped up in finding another job, worried about money and going to classes to think about it. But today is Sunday and the diner you found a temporary job at two days ago, is closed on Sundays. It's crappy pay and not alot of hours either but it was something and it'll help until you could get something else.

You lay on your bed, listening to your mom vacuuming the living room. University housing was expensive and you'd rather live at home and save the money than having even more debt. You laze the day away, knowing that none of the projects you have, is due that Monday. Your thoughts drift back to Jeongguk, like it always does. You honestly didn't think you'd end up missing him this much.

You like him, so fucking much. You figured it out a long time ago. You also know that you come from two different worlds. You are fine with that, you accepted it and you were content to be his friend.

Now he's completely gone from your life. Ripped out of it without warning.

You go to your classes the next day. In your last one, you doodle absentmindedly on the corner of your notebook, only half listening to the Professor. When the class is over, you look at what you drew and then groan out loud. Jeongguk's initials. Of fucking course. You scoff to yourself, leaving the class and then the building. You want to go home and sulk in privacy.

Outside, the sun was shining and you stood still for a moment, soaking in the warmth.

"Y/N!" A voice yelled your name and your head whips in the direction because you know that voice. You look, eyes searching desperately because you are so sure it was his voice. You're not hallucinating and- and there he is, running over to you.

"Jeongguk? What are you doing here?" You ask when he stops infront of you, completely bewildered.

He looks panicked and frantic. Like that day he snapped at you. He grips your shoulders, the hold almost painful. "You weren't there. I went to the restaurant and you weren't there and the manager told me you were fired and-"

"Jeongguk, stop. Breathe." You say, reaching up to hold onto his wrists, lightly rubbing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists. You wait until his grip loosens, until he was holding instead of gripping. "How did you find me?"

"You told me where you go to school one day." He answers off handedly, eyes scanning over your face, almost as if memorising the little details. Guilt flashes on his face, "I'm sorry you were fired."

You laugh at his words, removing his hands from your shoulders because it was getting a little too intimate, your heartbeat speeding up. "You know, half the time I see you, you end up apologizing to me."

"Hey, it's weird for me too." Jeongguk pouts and you have this urge to rise on your tiptoes and kiss it. "I'm not used to apologizing."

"Don't worry about it, I'm not angry." You wave him off.

"Can we talk?" He pleads and you agree immediately because you missed him so much.

"Yeah, there's a park nearby."

"Scared to be seen with me?" He teases with a smirk, and for a moment it's like nothing has changed.

You snort, "Don't you know? The walls has ears and Twitter accounts."

Jeongguk laughs, loud and unrestrained, throwing his head back. You couldn't help but smile. "This way."

You guide him to the park. It wasn't very big, and not a lot of people came here either, so it was perfect to talk. You each sit down on a swing.

"What are you gonna do now?" Jeongguk asks.

You shrug, "No clue, but I'll figure something out."

A guilty look spreads on his face again, "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have-"

You cut him off, "Shouldn't have what? Let a server talk back to you? Yeah, probably not but we both enjoyed it, so it's on you as much it is on you. More on me though, because it was my responsibility as an employee to treat you with respect."

"You did," Jeongguk says immediately, sincerely. "Even when you were at your most brutally honest moments."

You give him a slight smile. "Well, fun as it was, it seems our path has come to an end."

"Why?" Jeongguk frowns heavily at you.

"Huh?"

Jeongguk looks you in the eye, gaze piercing. "Why does it have to end?"

You snorted, thinking he was messing with you but his eyes were completely serious. You answer in a matter-of-fact tone, "Because you're you and I'm me. Besides, most of the time we argued."

"Y/N." He says your name like it is his greatest wish. He stands up from his swing, making his way infront of you and pulled you to your feet. He looks at you, eyes impossibly fond, "That wasn't arguing. It was banter. If you think that's arguing, you probably think my parents goes to war every now and again." He smiles, a little nervous. "And foe the record, I would rather argue with you for the rest of my life than ever kiss another girl again."

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you really don't know what the fuck to make of that. "I-"

He cuts you off, "And I don't want this to be over."

Silence falls between you two. You stare at him, he stares back. Until, finally, you blurt, "I don't know what to say."

Jeongguk is a little bit disappointed, but not surprised in the slightest. At least it isn't an outright rejection. "You don't have to say anything. Just answer one question."

"Okay?"

"Would you want to date me?" You choke on thin air from shock. That means that he feels the same way as you do, right? Happiness makes your blood sing. Then it sinks in and reality comes back to you. Your happiness evaporates and you swallow thickly. You open your mouth to tell him 'no', but once again Jeongguk cuts you off before you could say something. "Forget about our social status, forget about what people would say and think about me and you. Together. Really think about it. I have, and I think we could work, if you gave it a chance."

"And if it doesn't work?" You ask softly, vulnerable in a way you've never been before. Distantly you wonder how he knew what you were thinking.

"Then at least we can say we tried." He shrugs.

You look down at the ground, wanting to think without looking at him, into those mesmerizing eyes of his. He could ask you to commit murder, and chances are that you'll do it if he looks at you long enough. When did you become so completely gone for him? You think about it, but there was never a moment where you realised, this is the person I like. Maybe . . . maybe it's because you've always liked him. Right from the start, even when he was infuriating. The thought is startling, but you aren't scared by it. It's more like another piece of the puzzle between you and Jeongguk has fallen into place. But there is the problem of your different social statuses. Yeah, Jeongguk said forget about it, but for how long? If you try and this does work out, then eventually you'll have to face the reality of everything that comes with being together. Somehow that scares you more than if it doesn't work.

You look back up at him, and you know – despite all your worries and doubts – it was never really a choice because you choose Jeongguk the moment you chose to accept his offer of being honest all those months ago. "Okay."

Jeongguk looks like he's ready to argue, "I-" You watch as your answer sinks in. The stunned expression almost makes you laugh, "What?"

"Did you want me to say no?" You give him an amused look, smile curling the corners of your lips upwards.

His eyes widens and he shakes his head frantically, "No, no, no, I just wasn't expecting you to say yes to quickly."

"That makes two of us." You admit. Jeongguk is right though, better to try and either fail or succeed, or never try and forever wonder what if. You smile up at him, heart soaring happily. "You make a good case. You should have become a lawyer."

Jeongguk's eyes light up, "Just wait until you hear the case I have to make on why we should kiss."

"Tell you what, if you kiss me within the next three seconds, you don't have to make a case at all." You bargained with a grin.

Jeongguk didn't need to be told twice. He leaned close and kissed you, slow and deep, one hand slipping into your hair and the other curling around your waist, pulling you close to him. He breaks the kiss, licking his lips and your eyes are drawn to the action. You lick your own lips, liking the taste of him. His voice is deep and rough, his cheeks flushed, when he asks, "Want to go get something to drink?"

"Yeah," You nod with a goofy smile, your own cheeks also flushed, feeling like you might float away at any second. "I could go for a smoothie."

"I love smoothies." Jeongguk grins back at you, taking your hand, lacing your fingers. His other hand was still wrapped around your waist and hold you close.

An old question flashes across your mind as you run your hands up his chest, liking the strong, study feel of it, until you can lock your arms around his neck. "You know, I've been meaning to ask."

"Mmm?" Jeongguk hummed in acknowledgement, showing that he was listening.

"Why didn't you get me fired that first day?" You ask, aware that you are suppose to be getting smoothies but it could wait for a bit.

Jeongguk had been expecting this question for a while, and had come up with an answer a long time ago. He looks down at her with all he feels for her, a content smile on his lips.

"Because you were the first honest person I have met in years. Because you put me in my place without thinking twice. Because when you glared down at me after I changed my order for the sixth time, there was a fire in your eyes that woke something inside of me that I couldn't control. Not then and not now." He leaned down, rubbing his nose against hers, the gesture shy and intimate. "Because the fact is, you had me at 'indecisive snot'."

the end.

A/N: Tumblr and it's 250 box limit will be the death of me, I swear. I get it, I do. But come on! This very almost didn't fit, I had to edit and mush several chapters into one. Eventually it fit, but NEVER AGAIN! It was exhausting and time consuming. I'll rather split it again, like I did with two of my other fics. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. This took me a while with all the editing. Purple hearts for all of you!! -Kayla.

[blackacre13]

Damn...Babel is intense. Can you do part 3? ..and 4 😄

It really is! And it’s extra achey writing a variation of it for sure. Part seven was the last up here. So, here is part eight!

“Just try to calm down,” the woman pleads.

“Calm down? My wife is dying.”

“Come with us,” she speaks, her voice growing softer.

“Where the Fuck do you want me to take her?”

“Please,” she whispers. “Try to understand. So many of them are tired and sick. Why are we staying at this point?”

Debbie doesn’t have an answer for her. Or for anyone. And she doesn’t know where to go from here.

The view of the mountains and hills in front of her goes sideways and all she can see is white.

Debbie doesn’t know how long it takes her to come to, but she isn’t having any help as she swats a defenseless Anwar, who is only trying to help, away, sloppily crawling to her knees before she stands.

She wants to threaten the woman and everyone on the bus for that matter, but she knows it’s useless. She’s mad at the wrong people. But nothing seems to be going right. Every shred of hope that keeps fluttering to the surface gets shot down before it can fully develop into a plan.

It’s officially nightfall by the time Debbie makes it to the general store to call Tammy and she has no time for formalities or niceties, but she’s doing her best to keep her patience without snapping, but is failing miserably.

“Tammy?” She breathes as the line finally clicks. “Tammy, what’s going on? Nobody has come for us. I need to know who you called. Who you talked to. I need help. She’s dying.”

“Deb, I thought—“

“Please, Tam,” Debbie gasps as her eyes start to well. “She’s so weak. I’ve never—I’ve never seen her this bad. Please, I’m begging you, Tammy. You have got to do something. For me. For Lou, please.”

“Debs, even the Secretary of State knows. I mean I made the calls. The embassy. The state department. Hell, the world knows, but I can’t push them faster I mean—“

“You can’t just make these calls, Tammy!” Debbie screeches, finally losing her cool. “You’ve got to—I don’t know. Get up and do something.”

“We’re doing everything we can,” Tammy spoke calmly. “You need to calm down. Freaking out isn’t going to accomplish anything.”

“How the Fuck do you expect me to calm down? Lou is dying.”

“I’m flying out there tonight,” Tammy decided.

“There’s no time,” Debbie sighs, cradling her head in her hands. “I need to get her out of here now. There’s no ambulance. No hospital. Nothing. I just don’t know what to—are you Fucking kidding me?” Debbie screams as she looks out the window.

Tammy’s words are nothing but noise in the distance as Debbie drops the receiver, leaving it hanging against the wall as she runs out of the store and onto the dirt road, coughing as the dust sweeps into her lungs as she watches the bus drive away, oblivious to her broken, hoarse screams as she cries in frustration.

“Stop!” Debbie screams, chasing after the bus as she gasps for breath. “Stop! Stop you motherfucking—please, please stop,” she begs as she tries to catch her breath, her legs coming to a stop as she lets out a wordless scream. She can’t do anything but throw a rock after it, the bus already too far away to hear or see her.

Lou is awake a few hours later, her eyes fluttering open to see Debbie standing against a wall, sweaty and tired and sobbing tearless sobs, her voice barely a croak.

“Debs, baby,” Lou whispers, startling Debbie as she looks down at the blonde who is reaching out for her, looking both sicker than she ever has in her life and more like the Lou she knows and loves than she has in months as she calls out for her softly.

“What do you need?” Debbie smiles weakly, trying not to transfer her doubt and upset to her wife.

“If I die…” Lou starts, but Debbie won’t let her finish, sinking to the ground beside her as she tries to awkwardly cradle her as best as she can without hurting her.

“You’re not going to die, Lou,” Debbie promises, kissing her forehead softly. “You’re not.”

“Debbie, just listen, if—“

“Lou, if you die, I will murder you,” Debbie hisses automatically before laughing at the ridiculous threat, the blonde chuckling lightly beside her until she has to stop, wincing as she reaches for her ribs.

Lou smiles at her genuinely as they lock hands, Debbie kissing each of her fingers, lingering against her wedding set as she kisses the rings once more.

“I have to pee,” Lou finally admits, breaking the moment, but something has shifted between them.

“Right,” Debbie frowns, looking around for a pot. There’s something healing about the moment as she helps get Lou’s pants, angling the pot beneath her as Lou hooks her arm around Debbie as Debbie helps lift her, holding her up as she goes, finally sighing with relief until there’s comfortable silence between them again. And Debbie is surprised as anything when Lou leans in with a giggle and kisses Debbie deeply, and then Lou is crying, tears rolling down her cheeks sticky against Debbie’s.

“I’m sorry I never forgave you,” Lou cries, burying her face against Debbie’s chest. “I did. I do. I just—I know things will never be the same as before prison and how we used to be and I’ve been mourning the past but I—“

“They won’t ever be the same,” Debbie agrees, holding onto her. “But they don’t have to be. They’ll be better.”

“I know,” Lou smiles, sniffing back her tears. “We’ve both changed. But you’re right. We needed to change to be the new us. A better Lou and Deb. It’s not enough to go backward.”

“Lou?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I want us to have a baby.”

“You don’t,” Lou shook her head. “I shouldn’t have pushed. It’s alright, I promise. It was just something I convinced myself I needed, but I don’t—“

“No, no I want to,” Debbie promises, kissing Lou softly. “I want to go home. I want to be a family. The kind of family we never had. I want to be those parents, baby.”

“Debs, I’m scared,” Lou cries, clinging to her harder as Debbie nods.

“I know, love. I am too.”

[boywebbed]

also here is a little bit of a breakdown of why communication is so important to the longevity of peter’s physical relationships. it’s important to any relationship but any long term relationship with peter is going to have to require a lot of communication between he & his partner. no matter how natural it feels.

peter is a survivor of csa. here are my two posts detailing some of the effects it has on him longterm [ x , x ] but this is a canon fact. since it’s sinday & i think it’s the first time i’m like??? about to write a bunch of sexual content for peter i want to talk a little bit about how it affects his sex life & why communication is so important to him.

he has been to therapy, at the behest of his aunt & uncle. he only went for a couple of years, neglecting it only after he started spider-man ing. he’s not open about the experience in most circumstances but he is open about his boundaries & needs. a lot of what he focused on in therapy was drawing boundaries & understanding why neglecting those needs would hurt him longterm. it’s one of the only things he’s experienced in life that he didn’t just try to sweep aside because he literally could not. 

he does have impulsive behavior surrounding sex. i wouldn’t nescessarily say that it’s always unhealthy, but he doesn’t always think it through either? He doesn’t actively seek out sex as a way to hurt himself but he does use it as a means to distract himself from any day to day stress. He’s comfortable having short term physical partners because he doesn’t have to think of the deeper implications of any of it, if that makes sense? He’ll have a lot of one night stands but they’re meant to be a good time, not a long time. 

this being said, he goes in & out of phases where he’s more prone to seeking out sexual encounters. he will go back & forth between seeking out a lot of sex & then no sex at all. he doesn’t feel any pressure from himself & doesn’t acknowledge pressure from anyone else to fulfil sexual needs if he is not emotionally able to deal with??? those feelings. if you’re just a hookup he doesn’t feel he owes you that explaination, though if it’s a longterm partner he might elaborate a little bit. again, he’s not very open about the specifics but he would be willing to communicate that he’s just not up to it. 

if he starts sleeping with a partner more consistently he has to talk to them about what that means. he has to understand the context of why or he won’t grasp it on his own. something in his mind just doesn’t make the connection of whether or not it’s just an ongoing series of hookups or something more than that. 

also on the subject of longterm partners, there aren’t many partners he’ll have that he will communicate beig a survivor to. it’s not something he’s ashamed of but it is something he just prefers not to talk about. one of the biggest things that draws me towards peter as a character is that being a survivor is not something he allows to define him. he’s not a victim, he’s a hero. his actions speak about who he is, not what’s happened to him. he might communicate to a partner that he thinks is the person he’s going to be with forever but it’s not something he just throws out there. 

peter is a kinky motherfucker. he likes to test every limit of himself & his partner when given the chance. but the very moment it delves into anything that’s not vanilla, he has to have a safeword. his limits usually revolve around his ptsd being triggered, though it’s hard to tell when it will happen. the risk is worth the reward in most situations but he has to make it ABUNDANTLY clear that his safeword has to be respected, no matter the circumstance. 

if his partner doesn’t respect his safeword, he will cut it off with them immediately. there isn’t really an explaination someone can give that he’ll accept. the safeword is a safety net for him to protect himself when he enjoys / partakes in a sexually active lifestyle. 

he survived csa & he does not allow that to define him. he still loves sex, he loves the thrill of that sort of connection. he is unwilling to let anyone take that away from him. he loves one night stands, seeking out temporary partners & just generally having fun. long-term relationships for him take a lot of work not only because of his trauma but also because of the kind of person he is. he’s not always reliable, he’s impulsive & his priorities are all messed up a lot of the time. if he cares about you he will make the active effort to be better & to help his partner understand but again, he doesn’t feel like he owes anyone a full explaination. If that makes sense? I hope this maks sense. 

despite the trauma, peter is very sex positive. he likes sex. he likes people who like sex. again, it’s not something that he allows to define him but it is something he remains aware of to keep himself safe. 

[katymacsupernatural]

The Proposal Part 12

Jensen Ackles x Reader

Story Summary:  Jensen needs help keeping his life in order. To keep the media off his back. In order to do so, he comes up with a plan. Y/N, just a producer’s assistant, is pulled in to play a part she never thought she would have. Jensen’s fiancee. Only will it stay as a part to play, or will she start to want more?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

The party was the least of your worries. As soon as you left the offices, Jensen was pulling you to the side. “I have a short filming schedule today. Why don’t we get your stuff packed up and bring it on over to my place? We can have dinner brought in. Maybe talk about what needs to happen first.”

“I’m not sure I can leave early,” you argued. You didn’t want to sound argumentative, but you weren’t the star. You were just a personal assistant that could be replaced in an instant. Leaving early wasn’t always an option for you, no matter if you wanted to or not. 

“Leave that to me,” he winked one of those gorgeous green eyes your way. Which made you notice the blood covering his eyebrow and temple. And while that would have worried anyone else, you had to remind yourself it was just makeup. He was taking a break from playing Dean Winchester, the hottest monster hunter you had ever seen. 

Squeezing your shoulder as he passed, he headed straight for the offices you had just vacated while you forced yourself to keep moving. Past the trailers to the food tent. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee and grabbing a muffin, you sat down at one of the picnic tables, taking a deep breath. Sipping at your coffee, you knew you only had moments before you would be pulled back to work. 

“You seem frazzled,” Ruth sank down across from, a steaming cup of tea in her hand. “Need an ear?”

“You’ve already done so much,” you started to say but she waved it off. “I just feel really in over my head right now. I’m barely staying afloat, and I fear things are just going to get worse.”

“What is it now? I thought the weekend in Texas had gone smoothly.”

Picking at the muffin, you were surprised at how close to tears you were. It wasn’t that you were that upset. But things kept getting piled up on your shoulders and you felt as if you might crack. “It did. His family was nice, and he was very understanding. But now he wants me to move in with him. Today actually. And Jim is already planning a fancy engagement party up here. Warning me that I need to be on my best behavior. I don’t want to do another party. Especially with all the office big shots. And he’s inviting media. I’m not used to being in front of them. What if I disappoint Jensen?”

She squeezed my hand just as one of the producers came into the tent, motioning for me to move on. “Dearie, you won’t disappoint him. Just be yourself, and let those buffoons in suits fall in love with you.”

You smiled at her before making your way back to set, seeing the disapproving glares of the fellow assistants. They had already heard the news, and it seemed as if you were being judged by them as well.

“Y/N, we need you over there,” the producer ordered. “You need to clean up all that glass.”

There was fake glass everywhere. Sam and Dean were being pushed through a window, and of course, it had to be cleaned up after every shot. 

“Unless she thinks she’s too good for that now,” one of the other assistants muttered loud enough for you to hear. “Throwing herself at the actors, spreading her legs just to get some media notice. I bet Jensen’s just using her.”

The words stung, but you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself by retorting. Ignoring them, you began sweeping up the glass just as Jensen and Jared came back in. Jensen waved at you as did Jared, and you ducked your head, not wanting any other nasty comments coming your way. 

Jensen came striding over. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just some jealous people making their thoughts known.”

He frowned. “I wish you didn’t have to go through that. If there’s anything I could do…,”

You shook your head. Anything he would do now would only add fuel to the fire. “But I did talk to Jim, and we’re both leaving at 2. I’ll drive you to your apartment, and we can gather some stuff up today, pick up the rest another day. Sound good?”

“Yeah.”

He headed back to his chair just as the director set up the shot and you stepped to the side, working hard to get the props set up in order that they would need them. Keeping to yourself, you listened as Jensen and Jared rolled through their lines with ease, laughing when there was a pause in filming. 

“Hey Y/N,” Janelle whispered as she brought over some extra blood in case they needed a touch-up. “Why didn’t you let me know about you and Jensen? That’s some juicy gossip I would have loved to hear about.”

“We were keeping it a surprise,” you whispered back. “The office is trying to control things.”

“Watch your back,” she warned. “Those girls are jealous.”

Filming was wrapped only five minutes later, and Jensen came jogging over to you. “Ready to go?” 

Nodding, you were surprised when he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Y/N and I have a busy night planned. See everyone tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder. 

You were sure the other girls were just seething, but you couldn’t care. You loved the feeling of his lips against yours. It had been a nice surprise. He ducked into his trailer, changing into street clothes, joining you not even five minutes later. There was still a slight smudge of fake blood on his temple, and you reached up, brushing it away.

“We’re taking Cliff’s SUV. It should be large enough to haul most of your stuff. Then you get to pick dinner tonight, okay?”

“Sounds great,” you answered, slightly nervous at spending so much time with Jensen. Alone. In your apartment, and then his. A man that you wished would just kiss you once again. 

Read Chapter 13

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the Proposal Tags: @supraveng​ @vicmc624​ @lottieellz101 @impala-dreamer​ @maddiepants​ @emilyshurley​ @tonystark-makes-me-cry @starryeyeseunbyul​  @rach-12​ @spnfamily-j2​ @ima-be-a-mongoose​ @flamencodiva​ @compresshischest09​ @parinarain​  @stoneyggirl​  @tftumblin​ @massivelycreepypineapple​ @posiemax​ @traceyaudette​ @peacedolantwins2 @eliwinchester99​ @deans-baby-momma​ @aiofheavenandhell​ @athenamikaelson​ @samsgirl93​ @meowmeow-motherfucker​ @chevyimpala00067​ @metalfangirl​ @alwaysananglophile

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[operation-619]

What if the reader is an alien that has the same power as superman and stronger than Homelander? The reader works at the Vought and doesn't know the corruption in it until Butcher told the truth. Homelander acts soft on her when they see each other, and Homelander was still confused about his feelings and put his ego shit first. I kinda wanna see Homelander battling the reader when she was trying to protect Ryan and Butcher while Maeve hasn’t arrived yet. She will make him bleed.

Even the strongest man Bleeds.

Edited 17-01-21

Homelander x Alien! Reader

Warning: mentions of blood, language, mentions of death and murder. Violence read at your own risk. 

Bold italics- inner dialogue, Bold- the past. 

WC - 3.1k

Masterlist

“The compound V is what makes them, supes. It’s not real and the golden boy, your Homelander, is the most corrupt motherfucker I have ever met. We need your help (Y/N). Please?” his voice was hoarse, the stress in his words were leaking onto his face. She could see the worry on his face, but she couldn’t bring herself to believe the men in front of her.

“You’re lying to me. Billy Butcher, you have a lot of nerve coming here, you and your gang are mortal enemies to Homelander right now. It’s not safe.” The muscular black man scoffed at her statement and leaned back against the seat. He seemed relaxed but his eyes constantly sweeping the place told (Y/N) otherwise.

“I swear, come back with me and I will show you everything. Please?” his eyes crinkled at the sides as he pulled his face into what looked like a poor attempt at a pleading face. (Y/N)’s mouth was just forming the word ‘NO’ when the man called Mother’s Milk chuckled and leaned forward.

He whispered, “he doesn’t ever say please,” and stood up from the booth and walked out of the café. Her mind was racing, weighing the pros and cons of her current situation. She considered whether or not they were just baiting her into a trap, but she was confident that she could make her way out of it. But it isn’t everyday that two men come waltzing into her favourite café, sit themselves down like they own the place and cough up a semi-convincing story about the corruption at Vought.

“Fuck it,” she whispered under her breathe, “fine I’ll come, it’s good to go out your comfort zone once in a while.” The smile on her face made Billy look at her with confusion painted on his rugged features. She stood, and gestured Butcher to show her the way, “just so you know, I don’t believe you at all.”

(Y/N) replayed her past movement in her head carefully over and over again, and yet she still could not believe how naïve she truly was. But here she is sat in a car that smells like Old Spice, waiting for Frenchie to get the speakers ready. She threw her head back against the headrest and released a shaky breath; everything she believed and knew had been a lie to her. Including John. ‘Oh dear god John, what have you done?’ Her thoughts were getting too loud, they were screaming at her asking how she could’ve been so stupid to not know.

‘How could you not know?’

‘It was right in front of your face you idiot’

‘Your really are a cunt!’

(Y/N) squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed her temples, the stress of all the sudden information was taking a toll on the woman. Whimpering under her breath, she opened the car door and inhaled the cold air. Closing the car door, she leaned against it and watched as the group of friends conversed amongst themselves. The plan was to set off the sonic device and John to go over and destroy the source, and when he does Billy and Becca will drive and get Ryan. She still didn’t know why she was needed, (Y/N) was still processing the information she was given 48 hours ago.

“Okay, 15 minutes and everything will be all set,” the French accent let her know who was talking, but she wasn’t paying that much attention when she felt the hairs on the back of her neck arise.

“Get in the cars!” she whispered harshly, her arms waving about ushering the people back into the cars. (Y/N)’s breath shallowed once everyone was in their respected cars, she creeped forward and looked upwards, watching as the uncovered Nazi zoomed by. She vividly remembered the moment she had met that woman. (Y/N) never trusted that woman, something about the way her heart leaped when an opportunity to hurt someone arose. (Y/N) also didn’t like the way John was towards her, all bark, and no bite- vulnerable.

(Y/N) had never seen John so vulnerable around anyone except her.

The metallic taste in the air is what told (Y/N) that Stormfront had just flown by, the hair on the back of her neck relaxed and so did her posture. Walking over to Butcher, she waited until he rolled down his window before she spoke; “She’s seen the leaked news, my guess is she is going back to Vaught to see what caused that, fiasco.” She heard another window come down, not doubt Frenchie and the others.

“Was she alone?” without turning around she nodded. (Y/N)’s tongue ran across the bottom of her teeth before she turned around and faced the two cars, the cars holding the people that brought the truth to her naïve and simplistic eyes. “What exactly am I doing here? Because, you have the weapons, metaphorical and physical to defeat them. So please, tell me why I am here?” her eye followed the movements of the human bodies getting out of the cars. She could see the look on Becca’s face, and she didn’t like it.

“We’re gonna use ya.” Her (E/C) eyes shot towards MM, he stood there tall and domineering, with his hands on his hips. “Starlight, or Annie told us how soft Homelander is on you. And if things go south, you are our pawn.” (Y/N)’s hearts faltered.

“You humans are so pathetic. I mean, I am old. Older than all of you put together, so I have seen shit that no one can imagine. But the one thing that never changes is the utter stupidity of you homo-sapiens, the selfishness and carnage that I have experienced puts my species to shame.” (Y/N) paced back and forth, her anger evident as black veins started to appear under her (E/C) eyes.

“(Y/N). Please, MM didn’t mean it like that,”

“I did. I did mean it exactly how I said it Becca,” (Y/N) stalked the movement of the vigilante group. Her hearing was being drowned by the loudness of her beating hearts. She watched as Becca stepped forwards and stopped right in front of her.

“My son, who was conceived in the most- my son is in there. I don’t know if you have had children before. But I am not going anywhere until I have my boy in my arms. So please, help me.” (Y/N) flinched when she felt warm hands placed onto her cold shoulders, echoes of her past resonating inside her head. She now understood the look on Becca’s face, the look of a mother- a childless mother that no longer understands their purpose in life. Because she was one.

“Okay, but I want this on my terms.”

The little boy was screaming when (Y/N) landed behind John, crying for his mommy to wake up. She looked around, seeing the two women laying lifeless. She was too late to save them. The metallic taste in the air was getting stronger the closer she walked towards the pandemonium. The woman that confided in her mere moments ago, now lay with blood flowing out the cut in her neck. She watched as Butcher tried to stop the bleeding his white hands now crimson. His whole body covered in blood, soaking him to his soul.

Turning her head, (Y/N) saw John knelt next to Stormfront or what is left of her. The burnt woman mumbling in what sounded like German. “Ryan- ‘her attention went from the barbequed supe to John, ‘did you do this?”

“He didn’t mean to John,” she watched his whole-body flinch at the sound of her voice, she was happy to see his face finally, to get some sort of justification. But the feeling that shot through her body was the complete opposite, the look in his eyes reminded her of herself, and she didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here, I thought you left?” he surged forward and cupped her face, (Y/N) placed her hand on his chest and the other on his hand. She closed her eyes and inhaled her John deeply. “(Y/N), you have no idea, I. I don’t understand.” The beating of his heart grounded her for a moment, everything around them disappeared for a moment as the two of them were caught in their own bubble. But (Y/N) knew the bubble had to be popped. And she had the sharpest needle to do it with.

“John, what happened on the plane.” She was met with silence, the hands gripped her face harder, but her eyes still remained closed. “You left them all to die, didn’t you?”

“I did not leave them to die, I tried to save them. You know this (Y/N), why are you asking me this.” His mouth was talking but his heart told her the truth. Releasing a soft sigh, (Y/N) stepped back from John and finally opened her eyes. The bubble burst when his blue eyes met pitch black, her pupils had flooded the white out leaving a demonic presence behind, the black veins appeared all over her body pulsing violently.

“I know everything John, you have been lying to me. I trusted you, and you know that.” He started to mutter words that didn’t make sense to her, his hands anchored in his hair. (Y/N) watched as the great Homelander fell apart right in front of her, Earths favourite and mightiest hero crumbled under the pressure of words.

“Now let them go John. Please?” when his blue eyes met hers, the look rivalled hell itself. His jaw twitched, tongue pocking out to lick his bottom lip. He never broke eye contact with her, his eyes tracked her like predator to prey.  (Y/N) moved cautiously, never turning her back to John. Once she was stationed in front of Butcher and the kid, she placed her right arm out and behind her. (Y/N)’s ears were ringing, the power surging through her was immense and yet she felt weak. Weak, it wasn’t a word her species spoke, and she never heard of such a word until she came to earth. Vulnerable, weak, powerless, helpless, defenceless, and fragile; all these words are now part of her vocabulary, and she was feeling every single one of them as she looked at the man she had come to love.

(Y/N) had given him not just one but both of her hearts. He was the first person that offered her his hand when the rest of this new world beat her down with their harsh words, he taught her how the ways of her new life, he was her new life. (Y/N) may have been a celestial being, but she knew when something wasn’t right. At first, she thought John was just trapping her, the distance – although not physical – was fluctuating between then constantly; first John welcomed her with open arms, then he kept her at arms-length when they got too close and then the cycle repeated.

But through all the shit he had put her through, she was still there for him. until now.

“We are going to leave, and you will never trouble them again.” Her vision was sharp as she watched the wrecked man in front of her chose the option she hoped he wouldn’t.

“You know I can’t do that, he’s my son.” And with that he charged towards them, eyes red with hunger and rage. His path changed when he felt a fist connect with his cheek, sending him flying into a tree. His world spun, staggering up onto his feet he made eye contact with the shell of the woman he loves. Her black eyes reminded him of a starless night, an abyss that was forbidden to travel.

Something cold dripped onto his lip, and out of instinct his tongue licked it away, he thought nothing of it until the unfamiliar taste of blood slithered its way down his throat. His naked hand came up and delicately touched his nose, he hissed in pain when his calloused hand touch it, retracting his hand he look in bewilderment at the blood sat there taunting him on his hand.

“You broke my nose,” his voice was meagre but loud enough for her to hear the vulnerability in it.

She turned to Butcher and the child hurriedly telling them , “get away from here, quickly,” and before she could turn back around, she was pinned to the muddy floor. Her face caked in the mixture of blood and dirt; she could feel John’s breath on her neck. Without a second thought she flung her head back and used the distraction to spin around and wrap her hand around the heroes throat. (Y/N) paid no mind to the thoughts pounding in her head, she wasn’t about to let them stop her from – whatever she thought she was doing.

“(Y/N) … (Y/N). please.” the air around them froze, she wanted answers but standing here with her hand around the nations saviour’s throat was not the way she needed to get them. “You lied to me John, the one person who promised to never lie to me. You betrayed my trust.” She threw him to the ground.

“You had me working for monsters. They never helped people!” the wind started to pick up around them, her (Y/H/C) hair danced ferociously around her face, a face that was covered in black veins pulsating in rage. (Y/N)’s head snapped to the right when she heard a twig snap, her vision was met with Butcher and the kid watching her in astonishment and fear. The kid was hiding behind Butcher, just his head poking out watching (Y/N) beat up his father. And god did he look like John. 

(Y/N)’s body moved before she could even realise what was happening, her left hand came up to stop the blow coming her way and then she knelt down, using John’s momentum against him, she throw him over her shoulder. But the outcome wasn’t in her favour as he managed to land on his feet. And then he was charging at her. Punches were thrown and bodied flung everywhere, (Y/N) couldn’t bring herself to kill John, but it felt good to hurt him.

 “He’s my son (Y/N). He needs me!” his words were met with a foot to his chest.

 “No one need you John, not after what you did,” her elbow jabbed into his stomach, causing his arms to release her waist, she looked at his body lying pathetically on the forest floor. Americas strongest man, the embodiment of patriotism and pride had fallen to his knees.

 “(Y/N), you have and always will need me’, his blue eye sparkled with malicious intent, ‘no one wanted a freak roaming our home, but because I stood by your side, they welcomed you. But the moment I’m gone. You will be nothing. But a monster to the people you love so much.” Blood came flying out of his mouth as he spat his words at her. His armour had crumbled and all he had left was his words.

 “Stop” the alien smiled at the hero on his knees, her eyes only moved off his body when she felt a presence next to her. John started to get up, but (Y/N) swiftly moved forward, wrapping her arm around his neck, and gripping his hair with her free hand. She forced him to stay down, on his knees.

 Maeve came into sight, moving cautiously like she was afraid he would brake from his bond. She stopped when she was right in front of the disgraced hero. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” (Y/N) could feel John shaking in her grip. The two looked at each other in silence for a while, their eye contact unbreakable. (Y/N) spared a glance at Butcher, who was still stood in the same place.

 “You’re going to let them go,” the man in question scoffed but immediately fell silent when (Y/N) tightened her grip on his hair. He cleared his throat, moving subtlety before answering the Queen. 

“And if I don’t?” his ego spoke louder than the words coming out of his mouth, he was confident that everything was going his way. Both Maeve and (Y/N) knew that. But the moment Maeve held up the recording of the plane (Y/N) could physically feel The Homelander admitting defeat. The cries of the passengers echoed through her head, along with the bullshit lie the man in her arms fed her. ‘there was nothing we could do, the terrorist had too much control I tried to save them (Y/N). I tried.’

“You’re going to stop hunting Starlight, you’re going to leave me and Elena alone. Or I release this.” there was no room for argument, and he knew that. But he had to open his mouth. “If you do that, I’ll destroy everything and everyone.” (Y/N)’s grip tightened, she dragged his head backward and brought her lips to his bloody ear. Her voice was cold, no hint of vulnerability, no hint of emotion. 

She could feel his bones quaking under her arm as she tightened her hold on the man she had come to love. The man that made everything feel less painful, the man that she called a true friend. But standing here in the middle of a forest with two dead women, a sobbing child and a emotionless man; she realised that what her people said about the human race was true. And John had proven that to her. It took everything in (Y/N) not to simply break his neck but she wanted him to hurt. 

She wanted him to bleed.

 So, she looked up at Maeve and signalled her to get the two boys out of here, she wanted to be alone with him. she willed herself to calm down, she knew she wasn’t in the right headframe to talk to John because if she did so now, his head would be lying two feet way from his body. So, she whispered to the man calmly, hearts no longer racing with hatred or fear. She let the venom in her voice speak for itself as she whispered to Homelander. But she let man she loved hear the pain in her voice, because the man she was holding was not her John, her John had died the moment Butcher and Mother’s Milk sat down across from her in the café. However, (Y/N) had comfort as she let the ten simple words leave her mouth, because she knows that no matter how much Compound V is pumping through his body. Even the Strongest man bleeds.

 “If you do that Homelander, I will make you bleed.”

|=|=|

Hello beautiful people, I hope you enjoyed my little piece, feel free to leave comments about what you liked and didn’t like, I’m okay with a bit of constructive criticism I believe it will help me get better, and if you want anything else.

[purple-stuck]

Hi It's me again! I hope my excessive rambling in the tags wasn't too annoying I just really loved that drabble you wrote

If it's not too much can I request something with Sollux and Gamzee meeting in the subjugglator training ranks after Ascension?

I'd really love to hear what your headcanons might be or what fics you take inspiration from about subjugglators off-planet

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee's breath was perfectly steady, his heartbeat perfectly level, his mind completely calm. Even as he hopped from platform to platform, moving at speeds imperceivable to the naked eye, his body remained impossibly calm. Such was the Messiahs' gift to him and all purplebloods like him. With training, they could command their body to do the impossible.

Gamzee stopped atop a thin pole, claws digging into his perch as he got his barings. A sea of bloodied spikes spread out around him, ensuring him a slow death should he miss even a single pole or platform. But beyond that, lie his goal. His target. The horned outline of which was a mere speck in his vision.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Gamzee felt the wood begin to give way beneath his weight and lept to another perch, hoping between poles and bouncing away before the could bend against him. Thoughtlessly, he reasoned out the closest platform in between leaps. Automatically, he twisted his body to reach them. His body twisted in ways that crack and snap the bones of any other caste. If the graveyard full of mangled bones below him was any indication, even other purples struggled to make such moves.

Soon, Gamzee's shadow was cast over his prey. A club appeared in his hand, upraised so as to crack open his target's skull in one swing.

For the first time since this lesson began, his breath hitched.

Gamzee's feet hit the ground, his momentum stopped dead. His club hung over his target's shoulder.

Breathe. In.

Breathe. Out.

At this distance, Gamzee could see that his target wasn't even a troll at all. Rather, he'd been tasked with assassinating a mannequin, a hard plastic replica of his would be victim. Gamzee felt his posture relax before he pulled his club back and cracked the target's head of with one swing.

Purple paint sprayed over Gamzee as the body hit the floor and he turned to his audience and bowed.

The audience cheered as the lights flashed on, a cacophony of honks, whoops, and cheers as the stage was revealed in full. If he bothered to look towards the pit, Gamzee could see all the remains of the clowns who came before him and failed. He did not look.

"well, would you look at that."

"HE ACTUALLY MANAGED TO PASS."

Two ropes descended down around him, carrying the Twin Instructors, clad in their iconic matching masks. Comedy's voice was sing song, contrasting Tragedy's melancholy just as their half masks contrasted their mood. Gamzee looked up to see half of Tragedy's face grinning down at him.

"still, you haven't quite managed to beat our record."

"MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE HIM GO AGAIN."

The two broke into giggles, with the rest of the tent following. Gamzee heard a few voices call out for an encore and quietly hoped they wouldn't be heard. He didn't have it in him to go another round. He didn't know how Sollux did it so easily, controlling his body they way he did.

Tragedy leaned down and gave him an encouraging pat on the back, causing Gamzee to grin at him tiredly in between pants. Comedy leaned down to his other side, handing him a faygo and a rag.

"OH, BUT HE'S SO WORN OUT. WE WOULDN'T WANT TO BREAK OUR NEW FAVORITE."

"we'd love to share notes, but this isn't your show anymore. head to the lounge, it's time for the next act."

Gamzee chugged the bottle, nearly emptying it in two gulps as he walked off stage. He waved his thanks, to tired to talk, as he shoved his way through the curtains and into the lounge.

Gamzee finished his faygo as he lazily scanned the room. Normally, throwing a bunch of clowns into one room would be a recipe for disaster, but all was strangely quiet. It seemed like the others who passed the test were just as warn out from it as he was. It made him feel better to see his brothers and sisters laying around exhausted, half collapsed against walls or the couch. It made him proud to still be standing.

And then he saw Sollux, looking none the worse for wear as he hogged the couch. He smirked smugly as Gamzee made his way over, scooting over to let the shorter clown collapse next to him. "Jegus, you look like shit."

Gamzee flipped him off, causing Sollux to snort. "And you're acting like shit too. Maybe I'm a bad influence on you."

Gamzee snorted. "Shit man, I thought you didn't want me to be so friendly and clingy around you anymore." He wiped the sweat off his forehead, stopping to look at the facepaint that had melted onto his hand. "Although, a brother's got a point about. I ain't much to look at right now."

Sollux slid his half empty faygo down the table, which Gamzee guzzled happily. "Yeah, body control is hard. I've been doing it ever sense I grew hands and I still eat my swords sometimes. Nevermind the more advanced stuff."

Gamzee slammed the faygo bottle on the table. "Shit, man, my bones hurt. And my veins... and lungs. Fuck."

Sollux grunted and handed him a spare Nintendie Dualscream. "How about something to take your mind of it? It's been awhile sense I kicked your ass in Fiduspawn anyways."

It was Gamzee's turn to snort. "All right, you are on, motherfucker."

~

They were eight rounds in when the new clowns stopped coming in. Gamzee counted only five had made it in after him, but he was more focused on beating Sollux than keeping count. Either he'd gotten better or Sollux had gotten worse. The taller troll used to be able to kick his ass, now they were tied four to four. But, their fifth round was interrupted as two familar shadows were cast over them.

"DID YOU TWO BRING TOYS FROM BACK ON ALTERNIA ALONG?"

"just between the four of us, I've heard that's against the rules."

Gamzee and Sollux froze as the Twin Instructors leaned over them. Even Gamzee could feel everyone in the room staring at them. Gamzee had seen this set up before. Comedy and Tragedy learing over a helpless troll or two. Acting like they were just disappointed, like they were just going to give the rule breaker a stern talking to before they decapitated the mischief maker.

Instead, the twins doubled over into a giggling fit the spread through the room. The trolls around them joined in, some more nervously than others.

"JuSt KiDdInG!"

"WE KNOW OUR HIGHEST SCORERS..."

"....know better than to break the rules."

"AsSuMiNg YoU dId'T cHeAt!"

Sollux and Gamzee pushed themselves to their feet, hands moving to ask about their progress, but the duo pushed their hands aside.

"DON'T BOTHER WITH THAT."

"you're subjugulators now."

"YoU'rE oFfIcIaLlY fUnNy EnOuGh To LiStEn To!"

Gamzee let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He heard Sollux do the same before the cheers erupted around them. Tragedy grabbed his arm and hoisted him into the air with it to bare before the crowd, leaving him and Sollux to gaze at their audience.

"GIVE OUR BOYS A ROUND OF APPLAUSE."

"well, those of you who still have hands anyways."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux, himself being held up for all to see by comedy. It was strange to see Sollux actually look nervous, even if they were seemingly in the Twin's good graces. Sweeps of living according to their capricious whims was enough to instill a lasting fear in anyone.

Even when granted verbal permission to speak, the two didn't make a peep as the twins hefted them over their shoulders. The twins cheerfully waved off the crowd as they carried the two ascendants to their office.

Gamzee grunted as he was dropped into a chair to small for him, hearing Sollux swear off to the right as the same happened to him. Comedy and Tragedy flopped into their chairs on the opposite end of the desk, kicking their feet up on it.

"normally, we'd take the time to talk about boring business shit with you."

"PREP YOUR ASCENSION SPEECH AND ALL THAT BLAH BLAH BLAH."

"BuT lIkE wE sAiD, wE hAvE nOtEs."

Sollux and Gamzee shared a nervous look, before Sollux straightened up and spoke. "What, uh, about exactly?"

Comedy shook a chidding finger in their faces.

"WHY, YOU BOTH HESITATED."

"tripped at the finish line."

"DeRaIlEd A pErFeCtLy GoOd ShOw."

Gamzee looked over at Sollux in suprise. Sollux... hesitated? But he was used to killing shit. Hell, that was his idea of a date night. Gamzee hardly had time to consider it before Tragedy leaned in his direction.

"now you we perfectly understand. you've never dabbled with fresh paint before."

"YOU'VE ONLY BEEN OFF THE SLIME FOR JUST THREE SWEEPS AT THAT."

"BuT iT's YoUr BuDdY wE'rE cUrIoUs AbOuT."

They both turned to Sollux expectantly. He scratched the back of hia head. "I... well. Something made me reconsider." He rested his hands in his head. "There was.... a kill I'd been planning for a really long time. Something... big. Special. And, when I landed that kill, when I did kill her and savor killing her... it just felt empty?"

Gamzee knew what he meant. The image of a cart drenched in Cerulean blood flashes in his mind. "I'd... rather not get any more into it than that."

The Twins tented their hands as they nodded sympathetically. Comedy even reached over to pat him on the shoulder.

"oh, we've both been there before."

"I DID ESPECIALLY."

Tragedy bent down and fished around beneath the desk, nearly banging his golden mask on it in the process.

"I STILL REMEMBER MY FIRST KILL."

He placed a white horned skull on the desk, carefully preserved and cleaned even though it seemed to have been centuries old. Still, the more Gamzee looked at it, the more it looked slightly off. The horns seemed to be... fake somehow. Like they were made of some kind of old plastic. And the skull's facial structure was all wrong. Too thin, too light, too delicate looking. It looked like a troll but not quite. If Karkat were here, he'd call it a mockery of troll kind.

"you'd think he'd be honored."

"MY VERY FIRST KILL. SHE WAS SO CLEVER AND BRUTAL THAT I NEVER THOUGHT I'D PULL IT OFF."

He rubbed the skull fondly, clearly nostalgic. Part of him sounded almost remorseful over it too, strangely enough. Like talking about a long dead friend or a beloved canceled show.

"BuT iT fElT sO eMpTy."

Sollux cleared his throat, clearly annoyed, even if he couldn't outright say it. Gamzee couldn't blame him. The twins liked to talk about their first two kills a lot. "So, what's your point?"

Tragedy sighed wistfully and Comedy playfully roled her eyes and elbowed him to get him back on topic.

"THE POINT IS, I WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO IT."

"and when it's over, it always feels...."

"AnTiClImAcTiC."

Sollux hummed and considered this, but Gamzee could tell he wasn't quite buying it. Gamzee could tell that something else was needling away at him. Something deeper than just that.

"you'll probably get that feeling too."

Gamzee straightened up as he realized they were addressing him again.

"HERE'S A TIP. DON'T LOOK INTO THEIR EYES. IT'LL ONLY MAKE YOU MISS THEM MORE."

Comedy slid two communicators across the desk.

"YOU CAN TALK IT OUT WITH YOU QUADS, NOW THAT YOU'RE ALLOWED TO SEE THEM AGAIN. YOUR BRONZE HEART AND RUST DIAMOND PROBABLY MISS YOU."

They nodded at Sollux.

"and the Empress will be happy to see her favorite clown is safe."

[orionlakehastodie]

Villainholics Anonymous

"It's the height." This was from Alina, their newest member.

"No. I still say it's the hair." This from Brienne. The only blonde one.

"It's the cocky ass way they smile." This from Lily Potter - the vice president.

"And do they all have to be so bloody handsome? Like if villain why hot?" Rey. And her age old problem.

"Admit it ladies. It's their dicks. Their gloriously large and thick dicks." Lizzie Bennet. The president of this club.

There were choruses of assent from all the women - all who had their unable to walk days in various stages of soreness. Today was Lizzie's turn. Fitzwilliam Darcy the menace had been particularly eager the night before.

The Villainholics Anonymous was officially in session to annoint their newest member - Alina Starkov.

"Alright, now we have to hear from our newest member. Alina, you have the floor." Lizzie took advantage of the silence before Rey can wax poetic about Ben's face when sunlight hits it when she watches him sleep in the mornings, or before Lily can sing praises about her husband always getting up to change Harry's nappies and how can a villain be that adorable.

Alina cleared her throat and sighed. "My name is Alina Starkov and I'm a villainholic."

"Hi, Alina." Chorused the other women in sympathy.

"It all started when he pushed up my sleeve and got into my face going all 'what are you' in his hot, deep voice with that accent."

Alina's eyes glaze over and Brienne nods in sympathy.

"It's like they tell you you're the ugliest woman they've ever seen but they're like stripping you naked with their eyes and they love what they see? It's like... turning you on?" Brienne squirms in her chair, subtle smile on her lips.

"Or you know they tell you 'I can take whatever I want' in that annoyingly Disney prince charming handsome face and you're all tied up and you're just thinking damn if I get those plush lips you can take whatever you want and more-"

"Yes Rey, we know. Ben Solo has a face carved by angels and wept over by poets - let Alina speak!" Rey shot Lizzie of disdain before sighing and turning to the large framed photo of a shirtless Ben Solo she kept at her side during these meetings for "emotional support".

Lizzie clears her throat and turns back to Alina. "Do go on, Alina."

"And then he comes and cuts a man in half. And I have blood and gore all over my face but he sweeps over in his ridiculous black cape-"

"Ah yes. It's always the cape." Lizzie smiles, remembering her husband walking through a moor.

"Whatever Lizzie - Darth Darcy is better than Darcy! My husband made that shit fashion." Rey sticks her tongue out at Lizzie and she retaliates by kicking at Rey's chair.

"As I was saying!" Alina glows a little bit brighter with her ire, wanting to share more about her precious Sasha.

"He takes me up into his arms and gets me up on his horse and his chest is so big and warm around me and his arms are so muscly and I just felt like... so safe and hugged and saints when I hug him and I feel all that delicious muscle wrapped around me and I just-"

Alina pauses to fan herself, remembering Aleksander's steamy hugs and how it would lead to her naked and impaled on Aleksander's huge dick.

Lily pats her hand in sympathy and shakes her head. "They're so good at that, at looming so tall and so pretty, with the ridiculous you're mine smiles on their faces and they scramble your brain with their yummy glorious smell and the way it feels so warm when they hold you. Like, what evil motherfucker smells like treacle and woods and comfort?" Lily is still very angry that her amortentia just really smells James Potter amplified. How dare this man.

"Anyway you think you'd move on from them, and then bam. He invites me to all these horse back riding just him and me, and he makes me wear his black kefta."

Brienne whistles at Alina's statement. "These fuckers are good at that. Giving you marriage swords, and marriage keftas. Like - Jaime even went as far as to say it's yours, it will always be yours swords that stand in for my heart. And they look so puppy like when they give it to you and you're just like... omg I'm married. Villains. That's true villainry right there." But even as Brienne says it, she strokes Oathkeeper fondly at her hip.

Alina nods her head, wrapping her own black kefta around her. "And you know it makes you feel like it's just you and him and you don't need anyone else and the next thing you know you're sucking his face in his office, and itching to get his dick inside you."

Murmurs of sympathy from all the women.

"And how is it that a villain can kiss like that? Like they're off to go to war the next fucking day?" Alina blushes as she remembers how she was pressed down into that giant map and if Ivan did not come bother them she would have been dicked down on that map too... okay so she had been dicked down on the map. Once. Maybe twice. Okay maybe once every week.

Rey sniffs and brings out Ben's sweater than she uses to wipe her tears. Lily groans in disgust.

"Rey, honestly that sweater is nasty."

Rey glares at Lily and looks down at her worn quidditch jersey with Potter 01 emblazoned at the back.

"You're one to talk Lily. Anyway. I totally understand Alina, like they kiss you and suck your soul out and make you wonder if they can kiss your pussy the same way they kiss your lips and then they fade away, into the Force, before you can ride that large dick."

Brienne throws a popcorn at Rey. "Don't be such a drama queen Rey. You brought back that fuckable redwood you call a husband from the world between worlds and rode that dick into the sunset after. Mine died in a random as fuck explosion."

Lizzie scoffs at Brienne's words. "And you clobbered Dumb and Dumber in the head and rewrote Jaime back as the rightful heir of Casterly Rock and rode that dick into the sunset."

Brienne rolls her eyes. "Not everyone can have a happy ending walking in the morning mist to kiss me and propose marriage. Some of us had to correct the writing of dumb men. Be thankful a smart woman wrote yours, Lizzie."

Rey nods in sympathy. And Alina clears her throat. This was her Sasha's time to shine. These women.

"Anyway, then after they kiss you like that, you find out they're evil and then they try and kill your friend - as if you want any other dick than their villain dick - but even their jealousy is so hot and so you pretend they're evil, but then you get this weird bond connection thing and suddenly he can just appear in your room like that. I mean, they're already so hot - then they appear heartbroken and pining after you and pretending they hate you but they're just like softboi TM and the next thing you know you're naked and making inappropriate use of the Force Bond."

Alina stops and fans herself, remembering just how inappropriate she and Aleksander have been through the bond, how full of him she was afterwards she leaked him out throughout the day-

"It's them always showering when the bond connects!" Rey's exclamation brought her out of her reverie.

"Like, is he just always showering 24/7 to let me see his beautiful tiddies? And like, am I supposed to not strip and lick them tiddies when I see them? It's like the Force Bond is designed so we can feel bad for the villain and fuck them senseless. Again - if villain why so fucking hot?"

Alina nods in sympathy as Rey is currently sitting on an ice pack because Ben had ridden her vagina sore. It's the damned bond sex. Those always go haywire.

"And then... they become the selfless idiot TM, deciding to let themselves be stabbed in the heart and tells you they're human with you and then when they get resurrected do they get back with you?"

Alina and Rey clutch each other ugly tears pouring and Brienne nods with them, tears pouring from her eyes.

"No. No they bloody don't the wankers. They ride off into a war and get killed by rubble!" Brienne slams her fist on the table and takes a deep swig of her butterbeer.

"They become one with the Force after kissing you senseless and making you feel like you're home!" Rey wails hugging Alina close to her.

"They get speared by a fucking tree to tie the universe back together!" Alina clutches back at Rey wiping at her eyes.

"They tell a Dark Wizard to fuck himself while telling you to save your only son!"

Lily joins the hugging ladies and drags Brienne into it as well.

Lizzie sighs and pounds on her gavel. "Ladies, ladies. Get over yourselves. Your men are back with you - Brienne - Jaime is at Casterly Rock because he said fuck that to riding back to Cersei and stayed with you. Rey, Ben is probably grumbling his way through another Republic meeting because he also said fuck that to becoming one with the Force and crawled back to you. And Alina - sweetheart, Aleksander is out of the tree - because he said fuck that to not being with you. We're here to make sure Alina finds her husband hot because he's now reformed. We don't like hot villains!"

The ladies gathered themselves and Alina wipes her tears and flushes.

"So... anyway, two days ago, Sasha came back from a peace talk with Fjerda, and he was really angry because we just got intelligence about Parem. And he said... we should have kept the Fold so he can just kill them all... and... and I found it so hot, so I... I stripped him naked right then and there in the war room and sucked him dry."

Sympathetic grumbles came out from the other ladies.

"Don't worry Alina, we're all here to get this temptation out of you - but I get it. Villains are hot. Sometimes I make Ben wear the mask..." Rey wipes her tears and sighs dreamily and Lily clears her throat.

"Rey-"

Rey blinks and shakes her head. "Right, right, villains are not hot."

"Alina," Lizzie begins but her phone started buzzing. She peeks at it and her eyes widen, and a familiar flush takes over her face. Brienne catches sight of it and smirks.

"Darcy calling you inferior of birth again, Liz?"

Lily grabs Lizzie's phone and giggles. "Darcy got himself in a lake and wondering when dear Lizzie is coming home."

Rey snickers. "I'm betting it's now."

"Shut up you lot, anyway Alina-"

But Alina was already packing up her bags. "Alina?"

"Sorry. Aleksander just came back from Grisha training - and he said if I'm not home in 30 minutes he'll take all that I hold dear so I only have him. I'm gonna get railed. See you guys next week."

She was out the door in a minute flat and Brienne laughs.

"Remind me, why do we do this again? Last week Rey got called home by Ben who said she was his sweet nothing and she came to the meeting today sitting on a vagina pack."

Lizzie merely rolls her eyes and stands up too. "Well, where else can we brag about having tall, hot loving husbands with big dicks who challenge us mentally and love us for challenging them back? I'll see you girls, I bought more of those vagina ice bags, sounds like we'll all need them."

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

AIGHT Y’ALL I wasn’t tagged but I’m doing this anyways because f u c k  i t

It's the year 2021 and you're obsessed with The Karate Kid. How are you feeling?

Deadasss weird as fuck, my dude. Like...out of all the things I could’ve predicted happening in our lord’s year 2021, it definitely was NOT getting hyperfixated on a hammy gay ship with a punk and a nerd from a goddamn karate soap opera. And yet...here we are??? I will never understand hyperfixations, my guy. But I’ve met a lot of really cool people in this fandom, so I can’t really complain.

Did you grow up with TKK or are you new to the series?

I have never seen a single Karate Kid movie in my entire life. When I was a kid, it looked kinda dumb so I never got into it XD But then I saw my roommate watching Cobra Kai on Youtube Red one day (he has every streaming service known to man) and I was hooked. And...here I am!

We gotta do the basics. Favorite character:  

Literally EVERYONE except for Kreese, Yasmine, Kyler, and Tory, sorry stans

Okay but if we gotta pick, Johnny Lawrence is my Problematic Fave. Also I love my boy Daniel, he’s trying his best!!! And Amanda LaRusso, we stan a queen!!!

Among the kids, definitely Miguel, with Demetri as a close second. I also love Sam, Aisha, Moon, and Hawk (pre- and post-Bastardization Arc, anyways XD)!

Favorite ship:  

Take a look at my username and take a WILD FUCKING GUESS lmao Yes it’s Eli/Demetri because DUH, every interaction they have is so fucking gay and Eli fucking saved him!!! And came back to him!!! And betrayed the world’s most terrifying dojo with a WAR CRIMINAL SENSEI all for Demetri!!! And how Demetri was willing to forgive him for everything at the drop of a hat because he always had faith there was still good in his best friend??? That’s TRUE LOVE motherfuckers. Please let them kiss in Season 4. I will sell you all of my limbs. Sam/Miguel is a close second because they’re cute as shit and it’s just so lovely to see two people so unapologetically smitten with each other. They are in LOVE, and I will RIOT if they break up again!!! Keep Sam and Miguel together 2k21!!!

Underrated character:

SAMANTHA LARUSSO!!! The amount of hate my girl gets for acting like a normal teenager and fucking up occasionally JUST like the rest of the cast makes me want to start punching things. She cares SO MUCH about her friends!!! And she loves the shit out of Miguel!!! She hasn’t always been the best friend but you know what??? Neither has Hawk, and we still forgave his ass!!! Also LET HER BE FEMININE but also kick utter ass, my god!!! Femininity should not be synonymous with being weak, y’all! ALSO DEMETRI, like yes, he likes to complain and occasionally run his mouth, but guess what else he likes to do??? Never give up on the love of his life his best friend Eli Moskowitz and refuse to lose faith in him no matter how much of a little shit he’s become, and I for one think that’s very badass of him. Also the way he takes care of Eli pre-Cobra Kai in his own snarky bastard way makes me absolutely Weak and needs more appreciation. Like the dude has charisma and COULD have probably made other friends and left Eli behind if he wanted, but did he??? No, he wants the weepy loser with the lip scar in the polo shirts and dorky sweaters and will protect him as much as his wimpy ass is able!!!

Underrated ship (don’t say therapy, lol):  

Among the adults, Daniel/Amanda!!! Like maybe I just don’t watch that much tv, but it seems kinda rare to me to see a happily married hetero couple, and it’s just nice to see a married couple who genuinely love each other and where there’s not like...lingering resentment or some shit. I feel like this ship gets overshadowed by Lawrusso a lot (which like--okay, fair!!! Daniel and Johnny do have a ridiculous amount of chemistry, and the gay undertones are undeniable, so I get it), and it makes me kinda sad. I do love Lawrusso, but I don’t like when Amanda has to get her heart broke for it to happen, you feel? Among the kids, honestly YasMoon. Like I really love the idea of Yasmine trying to better herself because of Moon’s influence on her and because Moon like...inspires her to be a better person, I guess? With their pretty strong friendship, it just makes more sense to me for Yasmine to get a redemption arc through Moon than through Demetri. ALSO girls DO often pull the whole “mean girl” shtick to cover up being closeted lesbians, and Moon IS canonically bi, so it could work!!! I just think this one could be a really interesting Friends to Lovers take, and could make a really nice coming-out arc for Yas. And MoonPiper too, honestly!!! Like they only got 5 seconds of screentime so I understand WHY it’s underrated, but I still love what we DID get and loved that there was a canon gay ship (even if only for 1 scene lmao). I’m really excited to potentially see more of them in Season 4!!! Please, I’m begging!!!

Wax On, Wax Off or Sweep the Leg?

Sweep the Leg because it will always be deeply hilarious to me how Demetri took note of the first move Eli ever used on him and spent presumably weeks perfecting it OUT OF SPITE just to get him back with it at the soccer game MONTHS later. Just goes to show how OBSESSED Demetri is with Eli and their little karate rivalry which is just NOT straight, I’m sorry

Which of Daniel’s dumb little outfits is your favorite?

There’s something so funny about this pretentious little fuck walking around in fancy suits once he becomes a #SuccessfulBusinessman, and still occasionally trying to do karate in a full-ass suit (take THAT, Tom Cole’s boba!!!) I’m also a big fan of how he looks in his gi with his little headband. Still killing that look as a 40-50-something!!!

Character from the films you most want to return, who’s not Terry Silver:

Tbh I have still never seen a single Karate Kid movie (they took them off of Netflix, RIP), so...I don’t really care if they bring anyone else back??? I’m invested in the characters we already have in the show, I don’t need some rando from the movies to make a cameo to have a good time XD The only character I really wanted them to bring back was Ali, and they already did, so like...I’m good??? That’s all I really needed, I can die in peace now XD

Scene that lives in your head rent-free:

Basically any fluffy Elimetri scene, but 5 in particular: ~Miguel first meeting Eli and Demetri at the lunch table, and Eli looking at Demetri like he hung every goddamn star in the sky ~Demetri going off at a terrifying, “unhinged” karate sensei on the first day of Cobra Kai because he made fun of Eli’s lip and Demetri is not about that shit ~ELI STEALING DEMETRI’S NACHO AND SMIRKING AT HIM, LIKE EXCUSE ME SIR PLEASE BE A LITTLE LESS HOMOSEXUAL IN FRONT OF YOUR GIRLFRIEND ~Eli yanking Demetri onstage during Valley Fest to hold a board, and Demetri being visibly like...extremely turned on when Eli breaks said board ~ELI SAVING DEMETRI DURING THE CHRISTMAS FIGHT, ELI APOLOGIZING, DEMETRI AND ELI KICKING COBRA ASS TOGETHER AKSBDCUWYVCBU

Will Anthony LaRusso ever be relevant?

I hope not! He’s kind of a funny meme character to pop up now and again but I don’t think he deserves a serious plotline when there are so many more interesting characters to follow.

You live in The Valley and are forced into the karate gang war. Which dojo do you join?

Miyagi-Do because Cobra Kai would eat me alive. Also I’d probably straight up get stuck and die in that cement mixer, if I even made it that far XD Besides, being salty that your friend who you have a crush on likes martial arts better than you and starting martial arts to impress them but also being too lazy to join anything TOO intense is a Big Mood and I am certainly not speaking from personal experience here, no sirree

What’s your training montage song?

"Shut Up and Drive” by Rihanna for a weight-training and bicep-flexing montage, “Whatever It Takes” by Imagine Dragons for a more intense punching-and-kicking-shit montage. I don’t know why this is, I just feel it in my heart.

It’s the crossover event of the century! Which TV show are you combining with Cobra Kai for an hour-long Saturday night special?

*Briefly panics because I don’t actually watch that much TV and most of the stuff I do watch is fantasy/sci fi shit that absolutely would not work for a CK crossover*

Hmmmm okay but ACTUALLY

You know what would be fucking funny as hell would be an It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia crossover. Allow me to elaborate: ~The Gang goes to LA on vacation during the height of the Karate Dojo Wars. They literally can get barely anything done without all these goddamn karate-fighting teenagers getting in the way. ~They are all very annoyed by this. Even the most obscure of tourist attractions is eventually intercepted by karate fights. ~Mac tries to join Cobra Kai because he sees all this karate fighting on, and wants to unquestionably prove both his badassery and masculinity. Both Johnny and Kreese are like “Wtf are you doing here? Aren’t you like 30?” ~Mac gets a planet-sized crush on Johnny after all of 5 minutes and endlessly gushes to the gang about him. The gang mercilessly roast him about this and about how much of a pathetic loser with his life together in no way whatsoever Johnny sounds like. They proceed to have exactly 0 self awareness about this. ~The Waitress is in town visiting family or something, and Charlie is stalking her, as per usual. However, every time he’s about to go up and talk to her, a pack of battling Miyagi-Dos and Cobra Kais throwing punches and kicks everywhere blocks his path. One times, Mac is among one of these packs and Charlie is like “???? He didn’t get kicked out of that teen karate dojo yet???” ~Seeing how much the Kids These Days seem to like fighting, Charlie drops by a local high school to try and sell Fight Milk to the kids doing karate. Only Kyler and Brucks buy into it, and subsequently get the entire West Valley High wrestling team sick. Charlie is inevitably arrested, as Counselor Blatt thinks he’s selling the kids drugs. ~Dennis makes a plan to have sex with every hot chick he can in Los Angeles. He meets Ali on a dating app post-divorce, and inevitably tries to bang her. It doesn’t work. ~Frank crashes the rental car, and inevitably the gang ends up at one of Daniel’s dealerships. Dee quickly takes a liking to Daniel and is like “Watch, assholes--Imma homewreck this guy’s marriage.” She starts frequenting the dealerships to attempt to flirt with Daniel, until one day she walks in on him having sex with Johnny in a back room and she’s like “Is that the guy from Mac’s goddamn dojo?!?!” ~Dennis, of course, tries to sleep with Amanda. Amanda is not having it, and rebukes him in the most snarky, Amanda-esque way possible. Dennis is just like “Oh not AGAIN--the women in this goddamn diva city have too high of standards!” ~Later on, the gang is at the beach and Dennis spots the blonde lady he went out on an ill-fate date with, and decides to give it another shot--that is, until he sees her go up and kiss another woman and he’s like “IS THAT THE LADY FROM THE CAR DEALERSHIP??? STUPID-KARATE-KICK-COMMERCIAL’S WIFE?!? YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.” ~Dee complains to Dennis about her lack of luck getting laid, and Dennis is just like “Oh come ON, is everyone in Los Angeles gay???” Smash cut to Hawk and Demetri having sex, Moon and Piper making out, Bert and Nate holding hands, Chris and Mitch doing oral, and Amanda, Ali, and Carmen having a threesome. ~Frank tries to scam Kreese into buying cheaply-made karate equipment for his dojo. The gang ends up having to leave LA because Kreese is quite literally plotting all of their murders.

For tagging, uuuuhhhhhh @jackonthelongwalk @soe-leo @max-eagle-fang @cc-tinslebee @backawayfromthegay @asphodel-storm do the thing, if y’all haven’t yet!

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Chapter Four: Part 1

Anti finds a new home for himself and his puppets and makes a couple violent power plays.

Tws: physical abuse/beatings, stabbing, imprisonment, temporary major character death, and extreme distress

-

Part 1 - Reversal

It’s an awkward car ride, to say the least.

Red hot-wired the truck from the parking lot and Trick climbed into the driver’s seat with Anti still wearing Blue’s body beside him. Dapper sits between Red and Dok, enduring periodic lovingly-concerned glances from both of them in quiet silence, his head against Red’s shoulder. Trick and Red won’t meet each other’s eyes in the rearview and Dok rubs absent-mindedly at his side and at his necklaces, trying to decide his next move.

“Turn here,” says Anti, once they’ve got about an hour away from the motel. The trees grow huge and beautiful around them and everything smells of earth and water. Red perks up. Staying somewhere around here would rock.

Trick turns the car and they keep on down an unkempt dirt road until -

“Okay,” says Anti, pointing. “Here you go.”

“Motherfuck,” whispers Trick.

“What he said,” agrees Red, leaping out of the truck as he parks. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“It’s a nice house,” says Anti.

“It isn’t a house,” murmurs Dok. “That’s a motherfucking mansion.”

Huge windows stare out into the forest around them from the square and stylish body of a grey-stone house, the doors curved like those of old Roman buildings, lights dangling from every other piece of rock. Balconies protrude from room windows and a tall proud brown fence surrounds a big piece of land in the backyard. Squirrels and birds flicker overhead in the warmth of the early morning, the trees sighing in the wind.

“Red, ditch the car later,” Anti commands, heading towards the door. With a blink of his eyes, he unlocks the electronic handle and opens the way for his pets. “The man who lived here was a paranoid recluse. The whole house is coated in cameras and there’s all the medical supplies we could ever need in the bathroom. It will be the perfect place to get their attention from. Come on, then, darlings. Don’t you want to explore?”

.

Dapper walks into the house alone, behind his siblings, almost envious of Blue’s cane, as he feels, for whatever reason, the need to collapse.

Blue does collapse, the moment Anti is gone from his body. One moment they’re standing together at the foot of the great dark stairway with its twisting rail - a moment later the body collapses, and Red is racing forward to catch his twin. Blue slumps back into his arms, bleeding a little from the right eye, and Red is quick to pull him away into a big sitting room, dragging him onto a couch.

“Roser,” Dapper hears Blue murmurs.

“Azul,” replies Red quietly, knocking their foreheads together.

The two of them have had little time together. Since Peru, all Blue seems to do is sleep. Red just lets him. All they want is to take care of each other. Now they’ll at least get a couple minutes to catch up.

Dok and Trick are entertaining themselves with ransacking the house, even Henrik looking happy with the change, though Dapper sees how he limps as he tries to keep up with his over-excited twin.

“There’s a motherfucking pool!” Trick shouts from one side of the house.

“The pantry is stuffed!” answers Dok from the kitchen.

“Hey, ping pong, haha!”

“Oh… a library.”

“And all sorts of instruments, Dok, come look!”

“Fuck, a whole alcohol cabinet. Trick, you’re going to - ”

“Stay away, I know, I know!”

“The doors all lock electronically anyway,” answers Anti mildly, examining the garage, where a couple old-fashioned cars in need of repairs are exhausted against the earth or jacked up on a long-abandoned raise. He shuts the garage and turns away, his dark gaze flickering over Dapper for a moment, who stares back without challenge in his eyes. “So don’t go trying to pull a fast one on me, I’ll lock you in.”

He steps closer to Dapper, patting his back as he passes.

“Upstairs is all for you and me, love,” he says. “We can stay in the master bedroom. Isn’t that nice?”

Dapper nods, glancing up at the stairs. No. He doesn’t think he likes this house. But he knows to say yes.

“It’s good,” Anti re-iterates, tilting his head at him.

Dapper feels the need for more of a response waiting in the air between them, but Anti just looks at him.

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

Even this does not seem to satisfy Anti. His brother draws back uncertainly, touching his back again, looking at him.

“Your moods will steady out again soon as the medicine kicks in,” says Anti, tugging on a curl of his hair. “Go, go upstairs and get settled.”

Dapper glances at Blue and Red whispering together on the couch and Dok and Trick playing with the settings on the fridge.

He turns and heads upstairs.

Just settle, something in his head is telling him. Be excited. It’ll be nice here. You’ll be spoiled because of the attempt. Just settle down again. Settle. Settle.

He wants to. He always has before. And it has kept him alive and favored and sometimes even sane.

But he doesn’t know how to settle again. There was, for just a moment, on the side of that cliff, a taste of freedom.

The craving has not died.

.

Anonymous asked: red, blue, how are you two doing?

“How are you feeling?” asks Red, rubbing his thumb over Blue’s beard.

“Better now that you’re here,” answers Blue, grinning up at him.

Red purses his mouth in an exaggerated kissy face and leans in. Blue bursts into laughter and swats at his head, pushing him away - but his laughter devolves into deep coughing and he ends up splayed across Red’s shoulder, his head down on his back, wheezing through the fit.

“The cameras said you were sick,” says Red. “And all I could do was just know about it and do nothing. And know it was my fault.”

Blue’s face contorts. “No… it wasn’t your fault.”

“I left you behind.”

“You were scared,” says Blue, stroking the back of his head. “I understand.”

“No, Blue, really, please… I’m sorry. Okay? I want you to know you’re important to me. You’re more important than - ”

“Don’t,” whispers Blue, cutting him off. “Don’t say things that will get you in trouble.”

Red sighs, gripping his hand. “I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” murmurs Blue. “I was angry for a while. But mostly I’ve just missed you.”

“Dumb old me?”

“Dumb old you,” chuckles Blue.

“I’m never going to leave you behind again,” says Red. “I swear.”

He draws him into a tight hug. For a long moment, they just rest together, and they hold each other.

“I think there was something else you were going to tell me all about,” adds Blue after a moment.

“Hm?”

“Something about… a boyyyy?”

Red flushes even deeper than the night before, burying his face in Blue’s shirt, and his twin just laughs and holds him tight, rocking them against the fancy couch.

Anonymous asked: Blue, is he possessing you EVERY night? Like have you been allowed any recovery time between possessions at all?

Blue coughs again and rubs at his bleeding eye. “It’s been at least every morning,” he says. “It’s horrible. And then I’m so tired I just sleep all day… but yeah, night and morning is when his sickness is the worst, he says, so if he wears me, he doesn’t get sick. The magic just thinks it’s back in my skin. Where it should be.”

“Morning sickness,” says Red wisely. “Like a pregnant lady.”

“Fuck, imagine a baby Anti.”

“That’s just Dapper.”

“You take that back!” snorts Blue, punching him in the arm. “How fucking dare you - I am enraged - he is the sweetest - fuck you, Ro!”

Red laughs, getting up to adjust Blue on the couch, trying to make him more comfortable. “No, he isn’t. I’m just kidding. Dapper isn’t really like Anti at all. But he did tear the guy who owned this house to shreds last night.”

“He’s got a little of Anti’s ferocity in him,” sighs Blue, listing back against the pillows. “If he could, he’d use it for nice things.”

“Maybe I can convince Anti to possess me at night sometimes instead of you.”

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

“There’s only so much more of this you can take, Blue.”

Blue shrugs, rubbing at his face. “At least Dok’s allowed to look after me.”

Anonymous asked: Hey dapper, are you doing alright? Relatively, anyway.

“Doing alright, doing alright,” he answers politely. “Just… yes. Fine…”

He climbs the stairs step-by-step, weaving his way up to the second floor. He glances over the side of the banister as he reaches the top, and then just as quickly draws away, stepping back, blinking rapidly. He puts an uncertain arm around his stomach and turns away from the ledge, his mouth twisting.

Anonymous asked: dapper? are you ok?

“Never been nervous about heights before,” he signs, laughing a little, though his arm wraps protectively around his stomach again as soon as he’s done talking. He spots the fanciest door yet and nods his head at you, drawing you towards it.

“Big master bedroom!” he signs. “Big, big!”

He holds his arms out comically wide and smiles at you. This is, you suspect, his attempt at being cheerful, but it’s pretty weak, especially considering how sunken his eyes seem.

It is a big room, though, and the bed is just as unnecessarily enormous, spreading across one whole wall, a big California king.

Dapper killed the man who used to sleep there just yesterday. His hands reach gently out and smooth over the pillow, pushing the wrinkles away, leaving it smooth and white and blameless.

It’s a clean white room with some dressers and drawers. There’s a big bathroom attached, with a tub and everything, but he doesn’t much care. At least there’s a wide window with a nice sill. He pushes the glass open and sticks his head out for a moment, taking a deep, deep breath.

“It’s gorgeous out here,” he tells you. “See, look.”

Ah, the world spreads wide from out this window, as if every beauty there is to be had can be found somewhere in the gaps between the trees and the glowing of the sun over the leaves and the movement of the birds in the air. The forest sweeps faraway from him, gold and red and glowing. The wind ruffles his soft hair.

Dapper sinks down onto the ledge of the window and folds his arms beneath his chin.

Do you remember the days when you would sit with him on the sill of his window in Norway, and he would wait for the Northern lights to come? Do you remember the faint smile on his face and the way he would chatter to you and the joy in his eyes over things like fish and chips and trips to the store? Do you remember the smudged wall where he drew something he once loved and then covered it up once again, because remembering was so much more trouble than it was worth?

He is not that man now.

He does not speak to you. He does not smile. His eyes are fixed on the sky, but he knows there is nothing coming.

Anonymous asked: Dap, I don't mean to pry if you don't want to talk, but remember you have support in your brothers and with us no matter how strange things get. I know things have changed (again) And we can't tell you HOW to feel, only it is OKAY to feel.

He turns to glance at you and he tries to smile again, bringing you fondly to his chest, the better for you to see the world outside.

“I feel sad,” he admits after a long moment. “But what’s the point in that?”

“How do you like it?”

Anti’s voice startles him and Dapper jolts, slamming his head into the top of the window. Anti gives a sharp “oh!” and glitches even closer, cupping his face in one hand and running the other through Dapper’s hair, looking for a goose egg.

“Poor thing,” he says, frowning down at him. “That’s no fun, smacking your little head.”

Dapper shakes his head wearily, his face scrunched up with pain.

“But you like the room?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Well, you can have the whole top floor to yourself, except Blue and Dok will be around at night. And brother, of course.”

“Of course.”

Anti stands behind him for a second, petting his hair, looking out at the world with him.

“Pretty, huh?”

“I hate all these fucking squirrels,” says Anti. “And the birds. Yuck.”

“You’re the worst,” signs Dapper, with an odd sort of fondness.

Anti kisses the side of his head. “No more hurting yourself, right?”

“Yes, Anti.”

“Okay. Cause if you ever scare me like that again - ” Anti’s grip tightens around his chin. “You’ll really regret it, alright, little man?”

“Yes, Anti.”

He smiles and lets him go, moving around the room and beginning to explore.

Anonymous asked: you don't need to pretend, dapper. you can be honest with us. i take it you're still feeling bad, and i can't blame you after all that happened. at least this house is nice? a tiny silver lining in amongst everything else.

“I’m hoping I will feel better soon,” Dapper agrees, watching Anti move around the room. “I was hoping he would get me a kitten or a puppy or a mouse or something since Trick got a kitten after his attempt, but I don’t think anything would convince Anti to let a pet in his room. But, yes, the house is nice. We will not be cold or too hungry I’m hoping!”

“This bathroom stinks,” complains Anti, throwing his head and retreating from inside. “That’s horrible.”

“It smells bad?”

“There’s like a million lotions and bath bombs and soaps and dumb shit in here. That’s so strong. It reeks of rose.”

Dapper blinks, getting up from the sill and stepping over towards Anti. He steps into the bathroom.

The flowery scents are almost overwhelming and Dapper’s pretty sure Anti’s nose is stronger than a normal human’s. But to him, it still smells pretty nice. The tub is huge, coated in little baskets of soaps and bath fizzies and shampoos and things. There’s even candles and bubble bath. It’s a little pretentious, but pretty fun too.

“Does it smell that strong to you?” asks Dapper, turning to frown at his brother.

Anti gags, backing away from the room. “Feel like I walked into a Bed, Bath, and whatever. Better keep that door shut. Check there’s nothing rowan, too. I’m going to go look around the forest.”

“What? You’re going down to the forest? You hate nature.”

“Apt. But I have someone I need to find, and if I don’t start looking, they’ll just find me first.” Anti grins coyly, eyes trailing away. “It’s an excellent game to play.”

“Okay. I - ”

Anti has already glitched away.

Dapper pauses, looking around the room.

An idea starts to form in his head.

cest-mellow asked: jameson, things are gonna be okay. you can have your family again, you’ll get them back. but you all have to work together in this. don’t. settle. just wait for the moment to strike. all five of you need to be in on this.

Dapper can tell when Blue and Doktor are plotting.

A change has come over them from the last time he saw them. It isn’t something he can put his finger on - more of a feeling.

More like deja vu. Like he’s seeing someone he hasn’t seen in a long time.

But the point is that when they come up the stairs at ten o clock exactly, he knows from the way they exchange looks and brush each other’s hands - they are thinking of something they should not be thinking of.

He knows he should tell them off, but he doesn’t have the heart.

“I don’t think Trick acts normal at all. I worry he’s only getting worse.”

“Red is a wreck since Anti took him back. He can’t focus.”

“And Dapper?”

“I haven’t spent much time with him yet - I never do - but he’s melancholy, he’s tired, he’s - sitting at the top of the stairs watching us! Hi, buddy!”

Dapper smiles softly, letting his head rest against the bars of the stairs. “You two are not very sneaky,” he signs.

“We’re not sneaking,” protests Blue, pausing for a breath halfway up the stairs. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dok doesn’t seem to think it’s funny, though. His face is lost and afraid. He doesn’t want to wait. He doesn’t want to scheme. He wants to act.

His family can’t take any more of this. It’s only a matter of time before the cracks become chasms.

But you’re right, and that’s the worst part. He can’t save his siblings from themselves. He needs all five.

Dok and Blue make it to the top of the stairs and give their little brother a hug, feeling him meld against their bodies. This is the only way they have to promise it right now - you can have your family again. Here we are.

“Boring day?”

“The cameras and I did some exploring.”

“Good. Come on, then. Let’s get ready for bed.”

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Blue’s back slams against the door of the shower, pinning him hard along the glass. He cries out and hears Henrik shouting on the other side of the bathroom, screeching for Anti to stop. Dapper is noiseless, but, opening his exhausted eyes, he can see his youngest brother staring back at him from the doorway, eyes wide.

“Dok, don’t fight, don’t fight,” he croaks.

Anti’s foot connects with the side of Blue’s head. Henrik shrieks and throws himself at Anti, tearing at his face with his long white nails, and Anti slams him into the bathroom sink hard. Henrik grips at his jarred hip with a gasp, crumbling to his knees on the cold tile of the floor.

Everything smells like blood and rose.

“You are the one who’s fighting,” laughs Anti, turning his attention back to Blue with something burning like a flame in blackened eyes, as a match already consumed by its fire. “So weak. So frail. And still he thinks he can resist me by closing his eyes and walling up his mind.”

Anti grabs Blue by the collar and hauls him to his feet. He starts to shake Blue, shoving him against the shower door, and Blue can only gasp as his head is struck back against the door.

“You two think you have any control?” hisses Anti, slamming him back again. “You think you have anything? You think you can do anything? I’m in control. I’m in control! Stop - trying - to fight me!”

The defenses in Blue’s mind crash to the ground and he cries out in his last moment of being his own for the night. He hears Dapper make a soft, mournful noise, and perhaps even sees his white hands reach out for Anti as though to tell him to stop - but it isn’t enough to save him.

Oil floods beneath Blue’s skin. Heat crawls across his face and buries itself in his stomach. His thoughts paralyze and then sink, and he is drowned back into the back of his mind, struggling to breathe but feeling Anti’s lungs moving instead, struggling to speak but feeling Anti’s lips part with words, struggling to stay conscious but sinking, sinking, sinking down into a place with no awareness.

It is Anti who opens his eyes.

“Monster!” Henrik is howling, trying to get up from the floor, his side bleeding anew. “Fucking monster, fucking creep! We’re not yours! We don’t belong to you! You can’t steal his own skin from him like that! You’re a monster, fuck you!” He curses at him in German, throwing himself forward again. Anti intercepts his punch. Dok never has been his strongest fighter.

“Anti, don’t hurt him,” Dapper’s hands beg. “Please! He’s just scared!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the clean white porcelain of the sink.

“Blame it on the magicians, Anti, he isn’t himself!”

Anti slams Henrik’s head into the blood on the porcelain of the sink.

“Trickshot can probably hear this, Anti!”

The sight of the name on his hands in the mirror stiffens Anti’s shoulders.

Henrik groans, his glasses broken on one side of his face and blood dripping through his hair. Anti lets go of him and he slumps to the ground, dazed and nauseous, gripping meekly at the wound in his head, a whimper falling from his mouth. Dapper moves forward to be with him, but, without even turning to look, Anti snags his throat and shoves him away.

“Go get in your fucking bed,” he growls, his eyes dark. He’s flickering through the cameras. Did Trickshot hear that? Did Red? He’ll break the pair of them down to atoms too if he has to, but he’d prefer to let good dogs be good dogs, and not incite their snapping.

Trickshot is in the kitchen in a pair of new shorts Anti bought him and a shirt covered in cacti, nibbling on a Poptart. He hasn’t reacted to the banging or the shouting. He might not have heard it. Red, for his part, is picking at the poetry books in the library, his eyes faraway and dreamy. Anti relaxes.

“Motherfucker,” Henrik slurs. He tries to get back to his feet, but only succeeds in slumping back down to the tile. Anti regards him coldly.

“You really did let yourself get stupid,” he says. “You really have forgotten just how much better it is to be obedient than rebellious.”

He reaches down to grab Henrik by the hair, dragging him up. Henrik moans, struggling to balance himself, staggering as Anti pulls him towards the door.

“I broke you in once,” hisses Anti. “And you hated me more then, believe it or not. You hated me more then and I shattered you like the broken thing you were always meant to be. Come on, Henrik. If this is the game you want to play, let’s play. I’ll take you to your room.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, Trickshot, go upstairs, go upstairs right now, Anti is hurting Dok, Anti is beating your twin, please if this gets through go help him

“No, no, no, no no no!” laughs Anti, snatching a camera from Dapper’s hand as he marches Dok down the hall. “This is a new era, ladies and gents and all my lovely prefer not to answers out there! I’m sick of your bullshit. You’re here for my entertainment and I am the ONLY one in control. I am the only one here with any power over what happens next. Good luck fucking wrestling it from me. I’m a god among ants. If I say this message doesn’t go to Trick, then it doesn’t go to Trick. Not that he’d come upstairs anyway. He knows the rules and the master who sets them.”

Dapper races out onto the first floor after them, whistling for Anti’s attention, trying to catch up. Anti moves two doors down and finds the third at the back of the floor, a white door, tightly closed. He throws it open and pushes Henrik inside.

It isn’t a finished room. Clearly someone - someone a very long time ago, it seems - had plans to redo it, because half of the carpet has been stripped down to hard grey flooring and the room is bare and cold and undecorated. Henrik sees something skitter in the side of the room. He is too concussed for his pupils to shrink in fear.

“Tr-iiick,” he slurs out, grasping at Anti’s hands. “Trick, plea…”

“He can’t help you now,” snaps Anti. “Unless you want to tell him what I’m doing and have him take your place?”

“No!” cries Henrik. “No, leave him ‘lone. Bruder… he’s lost in his hhhead…”

Anonymous asked: henrik, is he still hurting you right now?

Anti opens a white closet and shoves Henrik to his knees, slamming the door behind him. It takes him only a second to fetch chain, ignoring Dapper’s protests the whole time. He chains together the wooden doors of the closet, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

“I don’t like this, I don’t like this, I don’t want to do this anymore!” Dapper is screaming at him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Please, he doesn’t need to be hurt!”

“Stop it, Dap!” snaps Anti, whirling to grab his wrist. “If you start causing me problems you’re going to get the same treatment, damn your freak snaps! I’m not losing what’s mine now. He’ll be Dok before you know it and then everything will go back to normal again, and you and I can be brothers like we were.”

He steps into Dapper’s space, grabbing his chin and walking him back towards their room, his eyes boring into him. “Isn’t that what you want? Don’t you want to be brothers again? Don’t you remember when we were friends?”

“The person you showed me you were since the time when I loved you is more terrible and cruel than I ever let myself imagine. A child loved you. I am a man.”

Something more horrible than rage burns in Anti’s eyes. He does not let go of Dapper’s chin, backing him up, up, up, towards their bedroom, ink and blood dripping from his canine mouth.

“I am going to forget you said that,” he whispers, his eyes crimson. “Just. This. Once. Do you understand?”

Dapper closes his eyes, his back thumping against the door of the bedroom.

Anonymous asked: If he can't get into your brain then he's fucking powerless compared to you, Henrik, you are strong beyond wildest imagination. The only reason he got you the first time was because he wormed and hypnotized his way into you mind but he can't do that now. Remember the necklaces he's useless to remove. You have power. You have strength. You have control. He can never take the "Henrik" out of you completely.

Henrik is so concussed he can barely see straight.

It takes him long minutes to find you in the dim light of the closet, slowly leaning against the wall and hoisting himself up until he’s reached an approximation of a sitting position, his head swaying when he takes it away from the wall even for a moment. He can’t quite read the message on the camera in the corner of the closet, but he thinks he gets the gist. You see his hands enclose around the triplet necklaces on his breast, coughing.

“I am Henrik no matter what he tries to mmmake of me,” he whispers, slumping down against the wall. “I… am…”

His eyes are closed.

cest-mellow asked: anti, obviously torturing and hurting the boys hasn’t worked so far, what in the HELL makes you think it’ll work now?? they will ALWAYS rebel. always. you will go down and all five of them will be dancing on your grave.

“I saw the lights go out of their eyes one-by-one,” he hisses, his eyes like those of a dog’s. “I saw them die in the blood on my hands. I made Jameson kiss me and Jackie risk his life for mine. I made Marvin a loyalist and Henrik a torturer. I made Jack’s perfect, loyal, loving little copycat boy mine.”

He pushes Dapper onto the bed. His little brother stares back at him. In the moonlight, Dapper’s eyes, for one moment, look as black as Anti’s.

“It worked,” says Anti, turning his back on him to fetch him PJs from their backpack. “It worked. It just needs a refresher. I am already dancing on the graves that I buried them in.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, what are you doing to him?

“I won’t do anything if you’re good,” says Anti, with the much-too-level voice of an aggressor who thinks that non-violence is mercy. “I told you - I think we should be friends again. You’re a good boy and I’ve always liked you. You’ve been under too much stress lately and you’re very ill, that’s all that’s wrong. You’ll come back to yourself soon enough. You and I, after all, are intertwined.”

He leans into Dapper’s face. Dapper can smell Blue’s toothpaste.

“Don’t make me meld you back into me through fire,” warns Anti, a bright orange begonia curling around his ear.

Anonymous asked: Dapper you need to reverse, please. You can prevent this, change this.

“Don’t you dare,” warns Anti, pointing back at him. Dapper does not quake underneath his gaze. “Don’t you even think about it. I’ll know. Your eyes will be silver for at least twenty minutes and you’re not getting that long alone tonight. Besides, I’d smell you. That smell that imprinted on you when you were new to the world. I would know the smell of your magic anywhere. You better watch what those cameras tell you, Mr. Monochroma… one of these days, they’re going to get you in trouble.”

He throws red fleece pants and a penguin t-shirt at Dapper.

“Get changed, puppy,” he orders. “I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”

Blue’s body sways and Anti shakes his head out, dizzied. It’s a lot of strain for this body.

cest-mellow asked: dapper do you think if you turned back time and just stabbed anti before he could take over blue it could do anything? especially when he’s sick, just a good JAB right in the heart?? i am being 100% serious.

“Yeah, try that, Dapper,” mocks Anti, pushing into his space again. “Put a dagger into my heart. Go on, do it.”

Dapper turns his head away. He won’t hurt Anti while he’s wearing Blue.

“But even if I wasn’t in this skin, could you do it then?” asks Anti. “Could you stab big brother who raised you?”

“You and I both know stab wounds can’t kill you,” snarl Dapper’s hands, his blue eyes flashing. “Nothing ever kills you.”

Anti laughs, throwing his head back. Dapper sees Blue’s molars.

“You are a clever boy,” he murmurs with a strange, hateful sort of affection, wrapping a hand gently around Dapper’s throat. “Much cleverer than you know, most of the time. Tomorrow you’ll be like a child again - or a fucking nutcase.”

Anonymous asked: You’re gonna lose them all if you aren’t careful Anti. Keep pushing them and you’ll lose all of them sooner than rather than later. -🍂

“Red and I made the rules very clear,” says Anti, his eyes seeping to black. He pushes Dapper again and his little brother takes the hint, lying carefully down on the bed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Anti circles the bed, watching him for any sign of aggression. “One more try, we said. If I can’t tame them this time, it’s finished. I’ll set the house on fire and burn them all down. So let them break from me if they want to - either way, I’m finishing this charade we play.”

Anonymous asked: Reverse, Dapper. Roses and rowan.

“Rowan? Don’t threaten him. He’s allergic.” Anti crawls into bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard and staring down at Dapper, still at his side. “You know if you reverse I’ll see your silver eyes and I’ll beat you til you have to eat through a straw.”

Anonymous asked: Interesting fuckin philosophy there. Do buried and dead people commonly resurface like every month and try and murder you, run away, find themselves, love each other more then they've ever loved you, abandon you like you deserve, and consistently hate you in whatever fantasy land you live in Anti?

“You always all try to rile me up,” says Anti. “Sometimes you’ve succeeded, I’ll give you that. I was not created for anger management. But in the end, you are powerless spectators. Harassing me is all you can do. You know I’m in control.”

Anonymous asked: You just left Henrich there?? Anti he's so concussed he passed out and he has a major bleeding head wound what the fuck are you thinking? I wouldn't be surprised if you find him dead tomorrow, just leaving him there!

“Then Dapper can have the password and reverse,” says Anti happily, snuggling down into the covers beside him. “It’s happened before, hasn’t it, love?”

“Yes… Red bled out after you tortured him, back when I was young… sometimes you would kill him for fun, just to make me reverse it.”

“Your memory is clear right now. You are incredible, Dapper. No one else ever gets memories back after I take them.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, I'd genuinely like to know, what is your plan here? I don't think you can change how they feel about you by hurting them worse, especially since that's what caused it in the first place. You can't fix the effects of what you've done by just doing it more fiercely.

“I told you I came here to get help,” says Anti. “They like to play hard to find… I suspect we might have to get their attention, haha. Worth it, though. They’re the only one who was ever any fun.”

He reaches down and tangles his fingers in Dapper’s hair, scratching warmly at his scalp. “Them and my pets, of course. You’re all naive to say violence couldn’t turn them to my side. That’s what worked in the first place. The only thing that worked. Violence and the need to belong and the conviction that I was a part of their family. The violence comes easy to me, the need to belong is created by the separation from their twins, and the conviction that I belong - well, you saw what I did to Trick is Singapore. It’s mind games, baby. I’ve got my little brother to cover my tracks if anything goes wrong. Only I got the password to this little ace in my sleeve.”

He tugs on Dapper’s hair, smiling down at him. “I’ve been lax, that’s all. I’ve been lax. I won’t be again. If someone steps a foot out of line - ”

Glurk.

Anti’s throat splits open so wide you can see his spine and he bursts into laughter, the threat written in the blood dripping down his neck.

cest-mellow asked: you can make up a story, dapper. theres rats in that white room, one got out and into the bed and anti panicked so bad and it scared you snd you turned back. no password needed.

“Wow, they really want you to,” says Anti, smiling at him. “Go on, then. Do it, Dapper. Reverse. Go back. Make up a story. As if I would ever buy that you’d be afraid of a rat instead of trying to keep it as a pet. As if the first thing I always scream when I’m scared isn’t the password to let you go back and save me. As if I didn’t just promise that the slightest slip-up in behavior - the slightest bend in the rules - would lead you to a beating.”

Dapper swallows dryly.

“I’ll kill all four of your siblings in front of you and make you watch,” whispers Anti, leaning in close, his breath warm against Blue’s ears. “I’ll take you off your medicine. I’ll feed you your fingers and make you murder Henrik with your own two - ”

Dapper goes back in t

This post was reblogged with the following addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

Addition:

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Anonymous asked: blue, hen, he rewound. if you need to disguise his magic, the bathroom full of stuff will cover the scent. if you knock a few things over and make it look like an accident and get it on him, that might work. i don't know how to hide his eyes, though.

On the path that leads up to the forest, you see Anti stop short.

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

Anonymous asked: Go into the bathroom before Anti gets here. Boy that soap and bath salts and lotion sure does sound smelly and potent *coughcough*

“Fuck!” snarls Anti, stalking towards the house. “That fucking bathroom covers the smell of him, doesn’t it? I’m going to waterboard him. That little shit. He thinks he can stop me? He thinks anyone else can control me? I’ll lock him into a fucking box like I did when he was small.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, Henrik wasn't cooperating and you decided to punish him, but you hurt him really badly and Dapper panicked and rewound without thinking.

“No, he thought,” says Anti, face shifting with rage, teeth building in his mouth. “He thought because I have ingrained into him throughout the course of his entire life that he should never, never, never rewind without thinking. He just pretends. You let him fool you. He’s always thinking. Snake child… he takes after me.”

Anonymous asked: blue fell and hit his head so dapper rewound, yes

“Uh-oh,” sings Anti, smiling coldly at you. “Two conflicting stories, how strange - and I bet if I went and asked Dapper right now, he would tell me a third. It almost makes me wonder if you’re not all fucking liars.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, do you think you could distract anti? just for a little bit? blue isn’t ready to be possessed again, it’s making him so so sick and anti just won’t pay attention :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? You look pissed. Hold up, please. Blue’s not well.”

Anti blinks, pausing. “Come on, Tricky. You’re letting them manipulate you.”

Trick’s eyes water. “Look, Anti, it’s just - there’s been, like, a lot of change lately, and now I can’t be with Dok even though we were apart for like, weeks, and Blue is really seriously sick, but you’re still p-possessing him, and - you know that I don’t really like possession, it makes me feel - ”

Trick shakes his head quickly, a little green in the face. Anti tilts his head at him, alarmed, but his eyes keep looking up to the stairs. “Trick, come on, my love. You can handle this just fine. I need to go talk to Dapper.”

“It just makes me feel really scared, and I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to, don’t - can’t I have Dok, Anti, please? I hate this new plan, I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say, but - ”

“Trick,” growls Anti, but it turns into a sigh. “Fine. Have Dok for tonight. I need to go teach Dapper a lesson.”

Anonymous asked: Fine, here's the story that's the truth and it's the one he'd tell you if you got the true one. You hurt Henrik and Blue so badly that Henrik might have died locked in a room alone, bled out. You were being a stubborn asshole and refused to check up on Henrik or do anything to keep him from potentially dying. It scared your audience, scared Dapper too, so we convinced him to rewind without your permission.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. Dapper could have just waited til the morning to see if Dok was fine and rewound then if he wasn’t. Why would he just disobey me like that if he wasn’t being rebellious? He knows I’d let him rewind if anything deadly ever happened to them.”

pine-storm-season asked: Henrik, he rewound because you got badly hurt from not cooperating and he panicked and did it without thinking, as far as we could tell. Anti might be mad though.

Henrik looks up, alarmed, but a moment later only fury is flashing through his eyes.

“He does mean to torture me,” he says, voice low. “It’s true, then.”

Dapper grabs Dok’s face between his hands for a second, demanding his attention. Henrik stares back into his silver eyes, startled by the intensity he finds there.

“I know what I said,” signs Dapper rapidly, tears coursing down his cheeks. “That I didn’t want you to fight. But I was lying, Healing. I was too scared of what he would do to you. But the truth is I can’t live like this anymore! I need you to fight for me, Henrik. I need you.”

Fire lights up Henrik’s blood. He grips Dapper’s arms, staring at him, something vibrant and warm and familiar crossing through his chest. He laughs and doesn’t know why.

“For you,” says Henrik, shaking his head in astonishment. “For you, let him torture me.”

Anonymous asked: He rewound, you didn't get back in time to tell him the password. That's why he's so terrified.

“Still naughty of him. He should know better.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe this time around don't nearly murder Henrik and we won't be so rash. You claim to have control but can't control your own outbursts.

Anti stares at you dead in the eye of the camera.

“Trick,” he says. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Sit down,” repeats Anti coldly.

Trick sinks to the floor, frightened.

Anti stalks up the stairs.

Henrik turns around, standing over Dapper and Blue on the bed.

Anti takes one step forward

and Henrik straightens up, proud

and Anti shanks Henrik through the ribs.

Blue screams like he’s the one being murdered, staggering to his feet, his cry shrill enough the birds scatter. Dapper lurches forward as if he’ll be ill, clutching at his throat, closing his eyes desperately. Anti stares down at him, his eyes piercing through him.

And Henrik?

He tumbles to the ground, staining red the carpet, and he chokes as his lungs fill.

“Is this what you wanted?” shouts Anti, slapping Dapper’s face and shoving him off the bed. “Is that what you prefer, that outcome?”

Dapper sobs, burying his face in his hands and backing rapidly away from Anti, his hands clutching at the golden hilt of the knife in his pocket. He’ll kill him for this!

“And you!” snarls Anti, whirling on the camera, pointing the life-blood-stained blade up at your one black eye. “Never tell me what to do again. Never tell me what to do ag

This post was reblogged again with a third addition.

Anonymous asked: Are there others allowed upstairs here? Are you allowed down? I know Trick is technically "in charge" now but I don't know if any rules have changed with the hierarchy.

my-brothers-corrupted:

my-brothers-corrupted:

“Anti told us to come up at ten, so we did,” says Blue, sitting on the bed. Dapper sits down by his feet, scooping his puppets into boxes. Though he endures bouts of clarity, he felt himself justified in spending most of the day distracted, day-dreaming with his toys.

Dok paces in the doorway, eyes narrowed, mouth taut as a drawn bow.

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

Henrik shakes his head hard, fists gritted. “He should stay away from you.”

Blue’s face contorts with stress. He wraps his arms around himself, trying to immortalize the feeling of his body belonging to him before it’s taken away yet again. And again, and again, and again…

Dapper rests his head against his knee and hugs his calf, staring up at him.

Anti, if you switch through the many cameras connected to your system in the great house, is coming back out of the forest. He has been gone most of the day, letting them have their peace, but Henrik knew that wouldn’t last.

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

“I fear to ask,” answers Dapper. “I fear to imagine. There are few people in the world Anti would call his ally, and I wouldn’t like to meet any of them ever again.”

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

“Anti’s never introduced you to anyone,” Dapper corrects him coolly.

First time jump

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Second time jump

Dapper is sick beside the bed, vomit dripping from his lips, his eyes a fervent silver.

Anonymous asked: Fight, but be rational Henrik. Be safe, wait for the perfect opportunity. I know you and us both can't wait to take down the evil, but caution is a must. You nearly died in the last go through.

“No!” cries Dapper, lurching up from the bed, both of his siblings rearing back in alarm, still calling worried questions at him. Over the both of them, he is signing. “No, Dok, I take it back, don’t fight, don’t - I can’t - coward, I’m a coward!”

“Dapper, what’s going on?”

“Carve, it’s okay, just take a deep breath - Carver!”

Dapper races away from them, his stomach churning.

Anonymous asked: Oh no Dapper you're sick! Better go into the bathroom and lean over the toilet. Blue, Henrik, help him there?

Tearing away from them, he is sick again in that rose bathroom, his eyes reminding him of Blue crumpled against the shower and Dok bleeding against the sink as he gags, just one more memory for no one but him to hold on to. He breathes in panicked gasps, shoving himself back to his feet and locking the door before Blue and Dok can come racing after him. He nearly collapses over the sink, washing his beard and face harshly with a soft cloth and golden milk and honey soap, crying in short bursts, his eyes red and silver. With frantic hands, he starts the bath and leans over the tub, heaving and tearing off his shirt, his heart thumping terribly in his chest.

He covers his face with his hands, sinking down over the side of the tub before he can finish stripping, whimpering in a weak exhale of air.

Anonymous asked: Dap, take deep breaths, okay? Why are you doing this?

Dapper tugs on his hair, shaking his head, too distressed to speak for a long time.

“Why? Why?” he manages finally, swiping at the rapid tears on his face. “You know time travel takes a toll on me and you saw what just happened! What do you mean, why? No matter how many times I watch them die, it never gets easier.”

He buries his face in his arms, feeling broken and useless and stupid and weak.

“I’m not a mistake-fixer, not really. I try to be, Anti wants me to be, but I’m not! I can’t make every situation that goes badly right, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t. If that’s how Dok and Blue are planning to get out of this, tell them it won’t work. I’m not strong or brave and even if I were, time travel never makes everything alright. It’s a trick. It’s a lie. It’s just a curse.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, can you keep anti downstairs for a while? blues gonna be possessed again and it’s making him really really sick. maybe you should get jackie to go upstairs to spend some time with him while he can until his time tonight is gone :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? Where were you?”

“Heya, lil man,” says Anti, tugging Trick to his chest and pressing their foreheads together. Trick grins, relieved to find him in a good mood. “What do you want, trouble-maker?”

“Anti,” grumbles Trick with a laugh. “What am I, a four-year-old?”

“You’re about six, actually.”

“Haha.”

Anti grins at him and draws away, clucking his chin. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. You and Reddy can have whatever room you want down here. Night, my watcher.”

“Anti - wait. Hey, please. Um…”

“What?”

“I think Blue’s really sick, Anti. I’m worried. Can’t Red stay with him?”

“I’m also really sick, Trick, it’s just that Blue’s keeping it under control for me. I need him right now.”

“He’s getting worse, Anti. I hate to say it, but… I think you’re being too rough with his body.”

Anti stares at Trick.

Trick shuffles on his feet, his eyes flickering around the room.

Anti sighs.

“I’ll be gentle, alright?” he says. “For you. I promise.”

“But what if that isn’t enough?”

“You’re paranoid about possession,” says Anti gently. “You always have been. It’s going to be okay. Go get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, Anti,” murmurs Trick, chewing on his lip.

“And don’t tell Red to go upstairs, alright? You and him aren’t allowed up there. I catch you up there, I’ll throw you right back down.”

“Okay.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, you’re gonna need to help your twin and dok and dapper upstairs. hes gonna kill one of them these days. dapper is in serious trouble and antis probably gonna possess blue again, make him even more sick. you saw how he was today. can you imagine the toll it’s taking on him? you have to protect him!

Red sits in the library.

He looks up at your beeping and you see his eyes.

From a distance, his gaze was dreamy, faraway, enchanted, perhaps.

From up close?

Red looks sad.

He reads your message once and he blinks. He glances up at the ceiling. For a moment, he breathes. He thinks. He grieves.

“Blue,” he says once, with feeling.

But he doesn’t move. Looks down at his hands. His hands on the pages of a book.

“Listen to this,” he says, and he reads:

It is as if everything else had slept Many an age, unforgotten and lost – The men that were, the things done, long ago, All I have thought; and but the moon and I Live yet and here stand idle over a grave

Where all is buried.

He stares down at the poem.

“I don’t really get it,” he says. “But I think Blue will like it.”

He tears the page from the book. He folds it into a paper airplane. He can’t go upstairs.

Anonymous asked: Yeah I'd say the moral of most time travel stories is "don't screw with time travel." Anti only sees you as an advantage but it's blown up in his face before, I just wish there was a way that the consequences ONLY fall on him without the rest of you getting hurt.

“If I was cleverer I could make that happen,” signs Dapper miserably, wiping at his face. “If I was all the things Jack made me to be. He was the only friend I ever managed to save.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, maybe you could leave Blue himself for just tonight? He's already weak, and the possession is making it worse. His magic doesn't like your body, so I can sort of see why you possess him, but it's making him sicker. Give him a night as himself, and it's quite possible he'll recover a bit.

“I really don’t know how to express to all of you how little I care about Blue’s recovery. I’m inclined to think that him being sick makes him easier to manage, and all I need the body for is sleeping.”

pine-storm-season asked: That's true, but there's going to be a point where he's weak enough that he's harder to manage simply because of the limits of his body. If you let him have occasional nights to recover, I don't think he'll end up getting there.

“Let me know when he gets to that point and maybe I’ll give a fuck then,” answers Anti mildly.

Anonymous asked: Time travel may be Anti's go-to fix for things he doesn't know how to deal with but it doesn't have to be yours, Dap. His over-reliance on your time travel, Blue's magic and body, and his hypnosis to twist things to his liking is going to be his downfall. Despite his efforts, memories linger and he can't hide his tracks in blood.

“I hope that’s true,” signs Dapper.

The lock clicks behind him.

He turns.

He isn’t collected enough to hide the evidence. He isn’t calm. He isn’t determined. He isn’t in control. He never seems to be. Anti sees his silver eyes before he can think to hide himself.

The monster steps forward, staring at him.

He touches JJ’s chin.

“I see you’ve learned a lesson,” says his broken, glitching voice.

Dapper turns away from him, ashamed.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Good, then,” purrs Anti, slapping lightly at his chin. “Silly boy. Stay here. Have your bath. And if you ever try anything like this again…”

He leans in close, eyes flashing. “I will - ”

“Kill all four of my siblings in front of me. Take me off my medicine. Feed me my fingers and make me kill Dok with my own two hands.”

Anti smiles.

Success.

Control.

“Good boy,” he murmurs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He goes.

Anonymous asked: Oh Dapper, JJ, buddy... You're not weak or a coward, not in the slightest. It'll be okay. I know that sounds empty, but it will be, it will. You did good, look what you've prevented now. Those deaths will only be memories, they don't exist in this here-and-now. Chin up, have a bath if you still want one. Baths make good cover-ups for other emotions, other... smells.

Dapper sniffles.

Then snorts out a laugh, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

“Other… smells,” he repeats, finding it funny despite everything, despite his whole life. He stares down at the water in exhaustion.

And Dapper does have a bath. He turns you away - he is, despite everything, a firm believer in the importance of being a gentleman - and he steps into the bath, pouring in the bubbles and the soaps, letting the smell wash across his skin, letting the blood and dust wash away.

Coward, his brain tells him.

Yes, he nods.

And when Anti goes to get Blue and Dok, and Dok raises his hackles, and Blue isn’t complying - well, Anti is gentle with Blue. He promised Trick. But when Anti hurts Dok the same way he hurt him the first time, when Dok is bleeding from the head, when Dok is calling for Trick to help him -

Well.

Dapper doesn’t do anything but sit in his bubbles and let his salt drip into the warm, rosey, coward’s bathwater.

Until, after a moment, he turns you back to him, trusting the bubbles to cover him.

“Hey,” he says, very small and very sad. You hear Henrik give one short cry of pain. “Will you come with me somewhere?”

Anonymous asked: yeah, we'll come with you. and i don't think you're a coward, dap. there are very few things you could do to help, and several of them would put you directly in danger. you're keeping yourself safe. i don't think that makes you a coward.

He breathes out a long sigh, resting his head against the back of the tub. He lets his body relax. His mind drift and search and reminisce. This is a new era, after all, and Anti is sick of uselessly wiping his memories. After all, he doesn’t know that they give Dapper any power.

He finds his clock in the pocket of his discarded pants and wraps his fingers around it. He finds the body of the camera. He touches your side.

Yeah, we’ll come with you.

Okay, he nods. Okay.

For the third time that day, Jameson goes back.

cest-mellow asked: where are we going, jamie?

In his mind, memories are like scrambled eggs.

To place them where they came from is almost impossible. His mind, he feels, has been tossed and turned and stirred into a mess of mashed-together knowledge and recollection, leaving him largely lost and often confused.

But there are moments he recalls. Sometimes. Some days. More and more often, there are moments he recalls.

He can only travel down the timeline, and to do so without splitting the delicate spiderweb of reality requires that he remember something and move towards it. And right now, he just wants to be at peace for a moment. He just wants to feel safe and not to have to see his family in pain.

He goes to the darkness of a closet.

It’s a faint memory in his mind. More than anything, what he recalls is feeling safe.

Dark clothes hung around him. Soft carpet beneath his hands. Something warm pressed to his chest and a pillow at his back. Aloneness and the crack of light through the bottom of the closet door.

The silver rush of time changing around him does not make him sick like it did Red. He is a surfer on a steady wave. When he opens his eyes again, he is in darkness, and you are beside him, and his clock gives a soft light as its silver timer begins to count down.

He sighs and closes his eyes, hugging a stuffed dog to his chest. No one screams. No one raises a hand at him. He sits in the darkness of the closet.

Anonymous asked: Yikes forever :(

He lets out a soft, tired sigh, sinking down onto the pillow and blankets beneath him. Yikes forever is right.

aether-mae asked: Where to J-spirit?

“I guess I don’t know where we are…”

He stares around the closet, blinking.

“It doesn’t feel like one of Anti’s prisons. But this was reckless of me. I probably shouldn’t have come.” He runs a hand through his hair. It’s the same length it is in the present, or at least it feels that way between his fingers.

Anonymous asked: Where are we now, Jameson? Do you know?

“I don’t know if I even want to find out,” he signs in the lowlight, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here as long as I can. Take a nap with no one touching me. With no one shouting or screaming.”

An interruption in the light beneath the door startles him. He sits up, staring at the socked feet standing in front of the door.

Someone knocks, just gentle.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

Anonymous asked: ooooh, jj, are you okay? that can't have been easy to go back again, are you safe where we are?

“I feel safe,” he says. “But sometimes that’s a lie.”

bupine asked: you ok, dap? what are you doing?

“I don’t know,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I just want everything to leave me alone. I want everything to stop.”

He’s curled down low against the blankets and pillows, hiding his face in their warmth.

“Can I come in?” asks the voice at the door, soft and careful. They sound Irish, though the accent, he thinks, isn’t quite as thick as Red’s. Maybe Blue or Trick. Or Anti, of course. It could always be Anti. “Henrik just cut his thumb, okay, he’s fine. The blood’s all gone now. You don’t have to hide in here if you don’t want to. Wouldn’t you prefer your room, buddy?”

pine-storm-season asked: Do you want to see who that is? I think they're a safe person, but we can't know for sure.

Dapper stares at the door, a shred of light making the blue of his right eye seem endless and clear, golden at the edges, like the eyes of a cat reflecting light. He watches the doorway, at war with himself. He doesn’t want to open the door and find someone who will hurt him. But he wants to be comforted, too. He would like to be comforted even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But it could be Anti. It could just be Anti, or Red to pull him by the hair back to his room, or someone he doesn’t even remember who wants to hurt him. He sits up, feeling anxious, grateful for the softness of the toy in his hand. He doesn’t care if it’s childish right now. He just wants to feel okay.

Anonymous asked: We'll be with you wherever you go, Dapper

He nods once. Right. You’re with him. Okay.

bupine asked: who's that at the door? think it's one of your brothers? i don't think it's anti, but i could be wrong. are you gonna open it?

Dapper climbs to his feet even as the figure at the door lets out a sigh. He tiptoes towards the door and feels the other still, noticing his movement on the other side, waiting patiently for Dapper to make his move. He puts his hand on the doorknob and pushes it gently open, staring out with one big blue eye.

The face looking back at him is familiar, and he’s grateful despite the fact that Anti too shares this face with him. His brother cocks his head at him, smiling real gentle at him, trying to be comforting and slow. Dapper’s glad. He feels like he could fall apart.

The room they’re in is a hectic mess. It almost makes him laugh. Clothes and papers and trash and dishes are scattered over the furniture and floor, a Switch and a DS somewhere in the mix and a row of nice caps lined up on the top of one drawer. One wall is lined in baby and toddler pictures of a pair of small, dark-haired kids JJ doesn’t recognize. Someone’s kicked off their Converse by the door.

Dapper smiles and looks back at the person who’s come to get him. His hair is short at the sides and fluffy on the top. He wears a black hood and colorful shorts. He doesn’t remember exactly what all of his siblings used to look like - this person seems so much younger even if only a few years separate this moment from the present - but between his appearance and this room, Dapper thinks he must know who this is. Trick.

No… that wasn’t his name.

It was something different, he doesn’t… he doesn’t quite recall.

“There’s my guy,” says not-Trick fondly, smiling at him. “Doing okay, tough stuff?”

Dapper can’t help the small smile on his face. He rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval at being teased, and not-Trick chuckles, stepping back from the door to let him step out.

Anonymous asked: I think I have a hunch on who the person behind the door is, but I really hope i'm wrong

Dapper’s eyes flicker with fear. He turns to glance at you, confused.

“What have you got there?” asks not-Trick. “Camera?”

Dapper shrugs, not sure how to explain. He stares up at his brother, trying to remember his name, chewing on his lip.

“Still nervous?” he asks gently.

Dapper can’t help but nod. He is. He really is. All the time, he feels like. He just wants… he just wants…

He holds out his arms uncertainly. His brother smiles and, without hesitation, moves forward to pull him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him, letting him bury his face in his shoulder.

“I’m really glad you’re here, JJ,” he says. “You know that, don’t you? We all are.”

JJ whimpers and curls his fingers into the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck.

bupine asked: i think that might be chase, if you need to remember his name. be careful, dap.

Chase, that’s it, Chase. He likes the sound of it. He turns his face into his neck and makes his best approximation of the name, hissing air from between his teeth. “Ayy-sssss.”

“Ssssh,” answers his brother, chuckling. “That’s right, that’s me.”

cest-mellow asked: chase, i think you call him c- happy? that’s his name. and he loves you very, very much.

Dapper grins. Stop that, that’s sappy. But it makes him really glad. He hugs him tighter and makes him laugh.

“Okay, little man?” he asks.

“Okay, yeah.”

“You are tough stuff, wasn’t joking. Is there anything you need?”

He shrugs, looking around. He doesn’t know. Maybe to see the others? If they’re here? If they’re safe? If they’re not having their heads beaten in against the counter of the sink?

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing JJ’s back. “Stay with me, Jay. It’s okay.”

pine-storm-season asked: His name is Chase, Jameson. Do you remember more about him now?

Hmm. He glances around.

Certainly he thinks this room is familiar, now that he sees it. He thinks the babies are Chase’s babies, but he doesn’t remember them, not even a flash of their memory. It hurts his chest. The room is messy and loud and enthusiastic in its own way. He thinks that’s things that Chase used to be. But Trickshot - though he’s happier these days than he has been in some time - is often quiet and nervous and bitter, keeping everything arranged in his nests, close at hand, protected. He doesn’t have the wildness he used to have. Dapper stares down at the ground, curling his fingers through Chase’s hair, wishing he could hold on to the memory of him forever.

cest-mellow asked: is anyone else in this place with you? are you in a house?

“Are the others here?” asks Dapper.

He squints his eyes up apologetically, tilting his head as he tries to think. “Ah, sorry, man, you know I’m still so slow with sign.”

Dapper doesn’t mind. He’s here and he’s learning, so that’s all that matters. He takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

In this hallway, there are two more doors, a closed one across from Chase’s room and a bathroom at the end of the hall. On the other side, stairs. Dapper lets his feet rub against the soft carpet, pleased to see that his past self has picked out a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts with flamingos patterned all over them instead of something formal and uncomfortable. Fun but not too childish. Comfortable but not humiliating. It’s nice.

He moves down the stairs with an optimistic timidity, peeking his head out before he lets his body appear. His brother follows patiently behind him, letting him go at his own pace.

He can hear, in the kitchen, a pair of his siblings arguing cheerfully, teasing each other and clanking dishes as they wash them in the sink. The dining room smells of curry powder and the living room is coated in the gold light of the setting sun. A fluffy white cat is kneading her claws into a grey one. She meows when she sees them, leaping off the couch to come and wrap herself around them, purring at their legs.

Now there’s no doubt that the person next to him is not Anti. Dapper lets out a low sigh, feeling warm and content, and closes his eyes.

Anonymous asked: Can you ask to see the others JJ? Would that follow the timeline properly?

Yes, he wants to see the others. He moves into the kitchen, finding two siblings standing together at the sink, washing and drying together.

“Hellooo,” calls Blue. “Everybody feeling okay?”

Not Blue. Marvin. Dapper feels his face light up in a smile.

He looks so happy.

His hair is long and clean and lovely, tied up neatly on the back of his head, and his face is full of health and self-satisfaction. He hands the last pan to his brother and steps towards them, smiling, a cover-up with elephants printed on the thin fabric flickering in the wind from the open back door. Outside, Jameson sees a forest - but this one is not like the one he came from. Instead of pines, deciduous oak and willow and birch. JJ feels the wind in his hair.

“I think we’re doing okay.” Jameson feels him squeeze his hand. “Right, JJ?”

JJ nods, letting Marvin come closer, smiling at him.

“Good!” Marvin chirps. “But you have something behind your ear.”

He reaches beside Jameson’s hand. When he pulls away again, he is holding a big yellow rose. JJ grins shyly and takes it from him, and Marvin, his eyes glowing blue, presses a kiss into his cheek.

“Love you, James.”

“Love you,” he answers gently, patting Marvin’s hand.

“Chase, your room’s a fucking mess, by the way,” says the person holding his other hand.

JJ stops short, alarmed, turning to him.

“It’s organized chaos!” protests the person at the sink, turning to him. He has short hair too, but he wears a backwards hat and his wrists are covered in bracelets, gauges pinned into his ears. “I know where everything in there is, it’s just… everywhere.”

The person at his side laughs. Dapper supposes it must be Jackie. He relaxes again, drifting against his side, enjoying the sound of his laughter. It’s good to see Red and Trick get along. Usually, in his experience, they are enemies.

Anonymous asked: Oh thank god my hunch was wrong, that's a relief. Anyway, whatcha gonna do now Dap? Stay with Chase for some more time?

“I want to see H-healing,” says JJ, looking around at his siblings.

“He’s okay, buddy,” promises Chase, drying off the last dish and placing it in the rack. “He just cut his finger. But I bet he wouldn’t mind a visit from you.”

“Here, I’ll take you upstairs,” promises the brother holding his hand. “And we can go check on him. He should be hanging out instead of working in his room anyway, huh?”

Yeah. Dapper nods, letting himself be lead back towards the stairs. As you go, you see a familiar hallway on the ground floor - a door with newspaper clippings and pictures and notes plastered all over it, and beyond that, the room where Red and Marvin talked. Chances are you recall the sight better than Dapper does.

Anonymous asked: Oh, they all look so happy and healthy... So this was your family? This seems like the dream life. I'm even more impassioned to help you get them back in any way we can, JJ. You all deserve health and love and light again.

“This,” he says, looking around, looking back at his family, looking at the house and the forest and the cats and the sun. He takes his hand back to speak. “This… this isn’t something that I can have again.”

He holds the rose Marvin gave him carefully, petting at the flowers for a moment before sticking it into his pocket, his face downcast.

“Even if I can get them back, we won’t be the same.”

He closes his eyes for a second, moving towards Henrik’s room.

“Max thought I was hopeless,” he says. “But these days, I can’t tell the difference between that and realism. The truth is, this isn’t my family anymore. Most of us aren’t family at all. The twins love each other. That’s what remains of us. The love between them and, every now and then, in small ways, the recollections between the rest of us - the ghosts of what it was to love each other for who we were at this moment in time, and the disappointment that follows when we realize we are no longer the people that we once were, and that that love did not survive the change.

“But for this moment… for this moment, I can have it again. It’s alive inside of me. For a moment. For a moment. It’s alive.”

darkiplurrr asked: *hugs Dapper* You’re doing great and we’re proud of you!

“Thank you,” he chuckles, smiling. “That’s very nice whether or not it’s true. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: Where are you taking us JJ? A memory? And... do you think Henrik will be okay?

“I… don’t know that H-healing will be okay in the future. I don’t know. I think, perhaps, he will not be. But for now…”

“Here, bud,” says his friend, following him up the stairs to knock on Henrik’s door.

“Come in,” answers a voice, unpained and unafraid, calm and safe.

For now he can be okay.

Dapper pushes open the door and Henrik smiles back at him from the bed, putting aside his laptop to see him. “Hey, Jamie. Is everything - ”

JJ leaps into his arms and tackles him back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Henrik yelps and then laughs, hugging him with one arm and pinching him in protest with the other.

“Little terror!” he snipes, digging his fingers into his side, and Dapper squirms from being tickled. “I am under attack.”

“Yes, you are stuck,” Dapper pauses to sign before wrapping his arms around his neck again.

“I’m okay,” murmurs Henrik after a moment, rubbing gently at his back. “You know that, right? We’re safe here. You and me are safe.”

JJ feels tears welling in his eyes. To think that they all used to feel safe.

“It’s not fair, H,” he says, pulling back. “I just want to keep all of you safe. But I don’t know if you even know that. And the truth is I still love him too no matter what he does to me. I don’t know why. I’m a coward.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going too fast for me. James?”

He sighs and buries himself in Henrik’s shirt. He just wants to stay here.

“I’m sorry, H.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Sorry, but you're wrong Dap. Love did survive it. You saw how hard Henrik fought for Blue not to be possessed. You saw Red care for you, fight for you, be happy and loved as himself for those days with Max. We saw the love still alive between Trick and Blue while you all were separated, even though they're not "twins". It's still there, in familiar and different ways. It's still inside all of you.

Dapper sighs, stroking his fingers through Henrik’s beard. His brother stares back at him, worried. It isn’t so different from sitting on the bed with Blue while Dok paces, trying to find ways to protect him.

Maybe pieces. Maybe pieces are still there.

Anonymous asked: Time changes people. Trauma changes people. It can't be easily reversed if it can be reversed at all. But time can heal, even if it's only a little. The family around you now is just a memory but recovering just a fraction of who they were will be worth it. It's hard to move forward when you don't know if things will be okay but you'll accomplish a lot more moving forward than going back. Even if things are never returned to normal, it's still worth more than what Anti has tried to reduce you to

Henrik’s bed is warm and comfortable. Henrik’s body is steady beside him, his hands gentle on his own body. And he feels safe and well and alright, and Henrik is here, and Henrik is okay, and Henrik loves him.

Things have changed, yes. But maybe… maybe with the bits and pieces that remained, the bits and pieces that have been strong enough to survive torture and amnesia and separation, the bits and pieces that have been stronger even than Anti and his hatred - maybe they can be the foundation to rebuild.

JJ stares at Henrik. Dapper stares at Henrik. The longing in his chest has not gone quiet - the longing not for death, as he thought it was, but for happier times to come. The longing that he mistook for suicidality. He never wanted to die. He just wanted to hope again. Just a little. Just enough.

For a moment, that longing is content.

Anonymous asked: You're right, Jay, you all can't go back to this. But you are where you are now, loved and with family, and you can enjoy that. And given time, with the brothers of your own time and all the friends you still have, you'll be able to move forward. But for now, you're here, and you can focus on that. Here you are. :)

“Want to just lie with me a while?” asks Henrik.

He can just be here. He can just be here for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” murmurs Henrik, stroking his hand across his hair once before turning back to the door, smiling at the figure still standing there. “You heading out soon?”

“If you’ve got everything covered,” he answers warmly, smiling at the both of them.

“You look tired.”

“Mh, a little. I’m okay.” He shrugs and stretches out his arms, digging his knuckles slightly into his eyes.

Dapper jolts, sitting up straight.

The man stares back at him, frowning.

“You okay, Jameson?”

On his left arm, a neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo JJ does not remember.

A neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo Jackie does not have.

This isn’t his brother.

Anonymous asked: Jamie, we think that might be Jack, the creator. But don't panic, it's okay. He's nice right now.

What does he say to him?

What does he do?

He remembers -

He remembers -

Anti moving towards him.

“Leave them the fuck alone! You give them back to me now or I’m going to make you regret I ever fucking created you!”

He remembers -

Blood on his face and a fierce scream of rage, his right eye neon green, the iris glowing like Marvin’s used to, the left iris silver and ringed in pure black. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green, mismatched, unnatural, supernatural, changing, constantly, as fast as Anti’s can.

“You can’t kill me, Anti, not in any way that means anything.”

He remembers -

Shaking in the corner, that fucking rope around his throat, his hands bound, his mind storming and his brain unmedicated, hallucinating and delusional and so confused and afraid he thought it might kill him. He knew it would kill him if he didn’t act.

But Anti told him no!

He remembers something breaking inside of him.

He remember the snap.

And then -

Blankness in his eyes, just for a moment.

Horror in his eyes.

“Jamie, what did you do?”

Jameson is tearing himself off of Henrik’s bed almost without realizing it, his breaths panting from his mouth, his heart racing in his chest.

“I didn’t mean to!” scream his hands. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to make you forget!”

“JJ! Stop! Calm down, man, calm down. It’s okay!”

“I was scared that he would hurt you! That was all! That was all!”

He catches Jameson’s hands and pulls them to his chest. They are left staring at each other, twin confusion in their eyes, twin distress.

“Jack.” He pulls against his grip to sign it. “Jack.”

“Jamie.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Jamie, I’m here.”

Jack holds his head between his hands and draws him close, and their foreheads fall together, and Jameson is known in the gaze of the man who created him.

cest-mellow asked: how much time do you have left here, jameson?

He grips his clock in a shaking hand, blinking his eyes rapidly.

The countdown is continuing. He has twenty, maybe fifteen minutes left.

But he can’t use them. This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “You don’t know how much. I broke everything and now you’re not here to help my brothers get free.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” says Jack, and if Jameson didn’t know better, he would think for a second that his friend’s eyes were silver instead of blue. “And I will make it better.”

“I have to go.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I will fix it for you. I am always going to be there to fix it if you need me.”

“That’s not true! It’s not your fault but that’s not true. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: It's okay, Jameson. You're safe. I don't know what you're remembering, but you're safe.

“No one’s here but you and me,” says Jack. “You and me and the others. You’re okay and I will keep it that way.”

Jameson huffs out a breath, closing his eyes.

“I would tell you not to blame yourself,” he says. “But the truth is, you won’t even remember who I am to feel guilt for me.”

He stops the time on his stopwatch and lets the silver river devour him whole again, whisking him back to the present. And that - that’s the end of it. He’s gone. That’s it.

Or it should be.

But in the river beside him, in the crashing waves of his power, in the screaming of the storm, there is still someone beside him, his eyes glowing twin silver.

“Listen to me!” Jack shouts, standing steadier even than Jameson in the belly of the storm, the wind whipping his hair. “Listen! You are exactly what I created you to be! Do you understand?”

Jameson crashes to the ground, stunned, gritting his eyes against his own power.

“You are all what I created you to be! Don’t let anyone try to take that from you because it will always, always, always be true, Jameson!”

“It’s not enough!” Jameson signs back desperately, not even sure if he can see, not even sure if he can understand, not even sure if he’s here at all. It’s impossible, isn’t it? Impossible that he can see him through time, impossible that someone else can move through this place the way he can. Impossible that someone else understands what is to hold power like this. “It’s not enough to be what you made me to be! I’m not enough!”

“You are worthwhile all on your own,” answers Jack, fierce as the sky around them. “But if you are in trouble and I am not there, I didn’t make any of you to fight alone. Be enough together. I’m not perfect, Jay, but I promise you - I did everything I could to make the five of you into enough to be safe from him. To give you the weapons and the story to be safe from him, even if it gets derailed sometimes. I meant you all for happy endings, JJ. Trust your brothers. Trust yourself. You are exactly what I created you to be! And you are always, always, always my - ”

Jameson sits up straight in the rose-scented bathwater, gasping for air.

Jack is gone.

The bathroom is silent.

He sits up straight in the bath, staring at the wall, his mouth open in shock. The last ray of sunset turns one eye clear and gold and endless. As though he can see another world in front of him.

I meant you all for happy endings, JJ.

He puts a hand over his heart. He can feel it beating fast. He can feel himself alive.

cest-mellow asked: are you okay james? what are you gonna do now?

“I… I…”

The bathroom door slams open.

Anti stands there staring at him.

Eyes huge. Chest heaving.

When he speaks, his voice is a shattered whisper.

“I heard someone,” he says. “I heard someone talking.”

JJ stares at him, panting. He shakes his head slowly.

“I heard someone!” repeats Anti, a little louder. His hand rises, falters, rests over Blue’s heart. “I heard… I heard…”

The water laps softly at JJ’s body, gone lukewarm. The lights buzz quietly and the crickets sing. The dark shape of a bird flickers past the window and Anti shudders, backing away, shaking his head.

“I thought I heard…”

“It’s just me, Anti,” says Dapper. “It’s just me in the bath.”

Anti closes his eyes, shaking his head. He puts a hand over his eyes for a moment and lets out a long, trembling breath.

“Come to bed,” he says. “Five minutes. I need to lie down. Blue’s mind plays tricks on me and I’m tired.”

“Okay, Anti. I’m coming.”

“Good,” says Anti, glancing at him as he turns to leave. “Yes, good, just… come quickly.”

“Okay.”

He leaves him alone with you. There is water lapping, and crickets singing, and the flicker of a bird.

JJ turns you away and climbs out of the bathtub.

Anonymous asked: What did you hear Anti?

“Nothing,” he spits at you, whirling on you with bright blue eyes. “Nothing, just… it was nothing.”

The door to the bathroom pushes open and Dapper steps out, looking small and sweet in his big dinosaur hoodie. Anti relaxes a little, sitting on the bed and waiting for him. “Come here,” he beckons, snapping his fingers at him. “Come on, bedtime. Geez, you smell like shampoo. Don’t use so much of those scented things next time.”

“Can’t help it, Anti. That whole bathroom smells like nice stuff.”

“Just lie down,” says Anti, tugging him towards him.

Anti finds a comfortable position and lets out a long sigh, wrapped around his little brother’s body.

“Your heart’s beating fast,” he mumbles.

Dapper doesn’t answer. They fall back to silence.

It’s dark by the time Anti speaks again.

“Do you ever think this isn’t what we were meant to be doing?”

Dapper stares at the ceiling, not sure what to say.

“Maybe I was supposed to die that night Marvin and Jackie beat me down to a wisp of a spirit and took you from me. Maybe that was supposed to be it.”

Dapper doesn’t know. Dapper doesn’t remember.

“Do you remember when it was just the two of us?” whispers Anti, lying close to him on the pillows. His hands are around his waist. “Do you ever think about it?”

Dapper looks over at him.

“Sometimes,” he signs meekly.

“Hm.” Anti rubs at his sides mindlessly, his eyes distant. “It was a different time.”

“It was a different story.”

“Yes,” says Anti. “I guess it was. This is a better one, isn’t it, my brother? All six of us together?”

Dapper doesn’t know what to say.

Anti does not seem to expect an answer.

“But sometimes I think about when it was just the two of us,” murmurs Anti. “Sometimes I think about that.”

Dapper feels something in the pocket of his hoodie. He blinks and reaches down for it, trying not to disturb his brother, and pulls it out. In his hands, a single yellow rose.

Dapper looks over at Anti. Anti is asleep.

[burnedbyshoto]

just this once

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: angsty, fluff, cursing

word count: 2,670

a/n: this is for the bnharem collaboration!!!!! how exciting!!!! will I ever not be obsessed with shouto??? only god will know. but anyways, enjoy bbies :D

message to join taglist :D

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“These are for you!”

Your fingers clenched a box of chocolates too tightly, the red paper reflecting the bright February sun, and your scarf was wrapped tightly around your face. Your words a near mumble when you presented your gift of affection. 

“Like that?” You ask, your eyes shifting over to your friends who were judging your presentation. “I feel like I was a bit too stiff, what do you think?”

“You look like a goddamn little school girl,” Jirou snorted, a grin spreading on her face as the others more or less agreed. Those words immediately threw a wrench in your confidence, your bottom lip assaulted by your teeth while you watched your friends discuss their opinions.

“It’s super cute and romantic,” Mina sighed, and your shoulders picked up. Hope and confidence were flooding your veins again. “But we are eighteen years old, almost graduating, and you’ve never been able to accomplish this before.”

“Yeah, but,” you say, your arms sweeping out, your finger pointed at your friends who remained silent, all their eyebrows quirked in curiosity and amusement. You don’t continue on, your voice cutting off, your thoughts unable to form.

“But?” Momo asked a kind smile on her face, encouraging you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you laugh, although the tremor in your voice shows that it was not done out of amusement. “I mean, we’re actually good friends now, we talk, kinda? As much as you can with him being so damn busy all the time… I totally got this! Besides, I gave all the other guys gifts, so why would he think he’s different?!”

“BECAUSE HE IS DIFFERENT TO YOU!” They seemed to holler all at once, and your cheeks burned. You turned on your heel, your backs facing your friends, and your eyes lowered to the box of chocolates.

This was accomplishable. You had survived the worst villains in the world, you had survived motherfucking UA, handing your love chocolates to Todoroki Shouto would be a breeze! In and out faster than Iida. You’d scream that the chocolates were for him, shove them into his chest, and race off before he could reject you. It was a solid plan, in your opinion. 

You roll your eyes, choosing to stick out your tongue at your friends who all groaned in response. They had zero faith in you, and to be quite honest, you had no faith in yourself either. You never won in this sort of battle. Three years of being in love with someone who clearly had no romantic interest in you was truly exhaustive, why you didn’t just give up was beyond you. Just this once you wanted a win, to see that at the very least he would accept the chocolates you had spent way too long making. 

“You have about five minutes before they leave,” Uraraka’s voice broke you from your stupor, “they have rounds.”

It slammed into you then, the fear and terror of being reject burned at every cell in your body. Your eyes focused on the box of chocolates in your hands; there was a white envelope made out to Shouto with a confession of your affections should you fail at your words. There was no way you were getting out of this; it seemed. 

Your steps were heavy as you walked towards the lockers, the sweet sounds of the ending winter filled your ears, and the soft giggles of girls and boys in love made your heart pump faster than it should. You got this, you were basically a Pro Hero now, you’ve stared death in the face and walked out living. You were reliable, amazing, and so much more.

But the words you were reciting to keep your spirits high were useless, the dread was a rock in your stomach, a black hole of apprehension. There was no doubting Shouto was going to have a lot of presents, hell he had a fucking Fanclub already! The gifts all those girls could afford, the chocolates they could make were most definitely better than yours.

The box of chocolates rattled in your fingers, your distress bleeding into your form. You took one last long look at your chocolates, finally having arrived at the lockers, and you turned towards the group of six girls who merely gave you energetic encouragement.

‘You got this, y/n!” read a sign most definitely just created by Momo. 

The laughter that spluttered from your lips was shaky, but it helped ease your worry. With a nod that betrayed your nervousness, you spun on your heel and walked into the lockers, en route to Shouto’s.

You smiled at your underclassmen who greeted you, your lips opening to complement their presents, and making light talk for you had somewhere to be. And then you saw him, a tall boy with red and white hair, opening a locker that most definitely exploded with valentine cards and chocolates. You froze, hidden behind the lockers. Shouto sighed, his figure kneeling down to gather the things on the floor, and you realized this was the perfect time for you to run in and throw your gift into the pile without needing to actually talk!

“Hey, Todoroki-kun!” You whispered sharply in your panic, your heart thundering in your chest at the sight of your crush calmly picking up his gifts. 

“SHOUTO-KUN!” Another voice shouted, and you felt frozen in your path when another girl you’d never talked to before bounded out of the blue and immediately latched onto Shouto’s side. Your hands remained frozen at your chest, the box of chocolates pressed into your body.

“Hi, Suki,” Shouto answered, a small but bright smile enveloping his face. 

There you stood frozen, hidden behind lockers, the world still continues to move as you watched the two of them clean up the grams on the floor. Soft chatter being exchanged by the two of them, laughter pouring from her mouth, and chuckles from his. You needed to look away, or at the very least approach them, you knew this. You were a hero, you’ve never had issues moving before, but right now, when you needed to be your own hero, you failed to advance. 

Their conversation was not understandable to you with your heartbeat roaring in your ears, but it soon disappeared. You watched with bile rising up to your throat as the girl pressed her hands to Shouto’s cheeks, her smile beaming and bright, and Shouto’s ears turning scarlet red. Her lips connected with Shouto’s, and your world went silent.

Oh.

Undeserving tears pricked at your eyes, and Shouto’s hands pressed against her hands. But you’d seen more than enough.

The box of chocolates dropped from your hands, clattering loudly onto the floor since there was no one but the three of you there. But before the two of them could see who was there, question who was there, you were gone.

There was nothing except a box of chocolates, with a letter written for the man who held your affections.

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Dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank, you sat with your classmates in the shared space. Your knees were tucked under your chin, the droning sounds of the rom-com filled the room. Everyone besides Shouto, Midoriya, and Bakugou were here, and those with a significant other were sitting and enjoying this night in together.

Valentine’s Day was a joke.

Your nose scrunched at the way the girl and the guy of the movie began to passionately make out, their surroundings forgotten because their love was too strong. How indecent.

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed another handful of popcorn and ate it, your eyes filling up with tears when your mind wandered to earlier. You had no reason to cry! You weren’t fast enough, brave enough, or important enough to win Shouto’s affections. 

“Oh, they’re back,” Shouji spoke, his head turning towards the entrance of the dorm. Your heart stopped, and you sink further into the couch, praying that someone’s lover had a quirk that would let the couch eat you. The movie was promptly paused, and as soon as the three most chaotic people in the class walked in, they were swarmed.

Yelling and screaming filled the room. People were arguing about who knows what, and presents were being given to the boys from the girls. There was no saying what was happening, only that you were the only one not greeting them. You felt pathetic, there were only a few weeks left of school, and you were never going to confess, how stupid. Standing up, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants before heading to the staircase; you didn’t want to stay here anymore. Not if you would cry at seeing Shouto.

He was happy, so you would be happy for him.

With the loud conversations taking place, and your classmate’s oblivious natures, no one noticed when you slipped into the staircase and disappeared back to your room. 

Turning on the lights, your room felt mockingly bright. There was nothing new or out of place. But the wall by your desk was filled with a bunch of photos that had stirred you to confess in the first place. Pictures of you and Shouto, the two of you smiling and talking, candid and posed photos littered the wall almost in the same amount as the pictures with the girls. 

Your fingers grabbed onto the photo booth film, the four photos that had you in the dumbest of poses with Shouto lingering gaze pressed into you, except for the last one where you had caught him staring, and it looked as if you two were lovers. But that wasn’t the case, he had promptly looked away, leaving the booth.

You were nothing but a stupid girl in love with a man who was leagues better than you.

There was a soft knock on your door, and your fingers pressed away, fallen tears from your cheeks. God, why were you so emotional. Walking quickly to the door, you expected to open it to Momo or Iida, whoever had noticed your disappearing number first. A smile graced your features, and you swung open the door.

“Sorry! I needed -- oh.”

Shouto stood outside your door, his face smudged with dirt and his right hand behind his back. Your smile tightened immediately, and you tilted your head, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference. Why was he here? Did he care?

“You weren’t downstairs, and since I was coming up to change, they asked me to check on you,” Shouto breathed, his eyes looking down, avoiding your gaze too. 

Your shoulders deflated, and you made an agreeable noise, your head nodding.

“Yeah, um, I needed to get my socks,” you lie.

Shouto nodded too, his eyes dropping to your feet that had no socks on it.

“Okay… I’m going to change, I’ll see you back downstairs?”

You nod your head, your eyes falling to the wall behind Shouto, “Yeah! Um, see you there.”

Shouto nodded again, but he didn’t move. So there the two of you stood, staring at each other, neither one of you moving, yet the both of you knowing that you needed to move before the entire class came for you both. But you wanted to ask about the girl, about who she was, if it was serious? But would that make you feel better? Your gaze fell while you contemplated knowing this information.

With your gaze leaving him, Shouto turned to move, a small sigh escaping his mouth.

“Who is she?” You blurted, your eyes focused on him with intensity and fear. “That girl, uh, your girlfriend?”

Shouto froze, his eyes confused, and his head tilting, “My girlfriend?”

You nodded, your stomach-churning, “I saw you kissing a girl today.”

It hit him then.

“You saw that?” He asked, his eyes wide and face overcame with a blush.

Your mouth was dry, and you wanted to both throw-up and cry, but you nodded. Your heart hammered in your chest, the palms of your hands sweaty and clammy despite your pleading mind for it to stop. 

“Yeah…”

“Y/l/n, that was--”

Your hands came up, the bile in your throat returning, “You don’t need to explain it to me, she was cute! You two look cute together!”

Shouto’s eyebrows scrunched, his mouth shut as something finally unleashed within you, forming nothing but word vomit.

“I can’t say anything for it, I’m happy for you! Truly I am happy that there’s someone out there that loves you, and you love them back! I mean, I was trying to approach you at your locker, but she beat me to it, which is my fault! And I was there because I was going to confess, which again was my fault for not doing it! I just… just this once, I wanted to be important to you the way you are to me! Because I have these feelings for you, Shouto, and I don’t know what to do with them anymore. I can’t have you because you obviously like someone else, and that’s fine! I was too late, or whatever, but…” your fingers trembled, and you fisted them at your chest. Silent tears fell from your face, and you finally met his gaze. “I’ve been trying for the past two years to confess to you, and it’s shitty of me to finally be able to do it when you found someone you like, but I’m in love with you.”

Shouto’s eyes were wide, his hand that had been hidden behind his back finally pulled before you, and revealed the box of chocolates you had dropped earlier today. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, handing you the box of chocolates, and your throat tightened, the envelope was opened, obviously read. “I--”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt him, taking the chocolates back, your heart crashing into your stomach. The tears in your eyes burned your skin, and your spout of broken courage was now gone, it vanished, and you felt hollow.

“You didn’t let me finish,” Shouto groaned, his hands raking through his hair. Your eyes met his frustrated gaze, and his hand shoved your box of chocolates onto the floor again, his hands taking yours in his. “I’m not good with emotions, I know that. I’m emotional, but I don’t know… simple things. Fuyumi-nee had been helping me out for ages, but it’s been years, and I thought she needed a break. So I sought out help from Suki because… I don’t know, someone said she was good with things like this.”

Your eyes blinked, as Shouto’s thumb traced the back of your hands.

“I’d been trying to figure out how to deal with my emotions for you because they were so damn annoying! I couldn’t figure out why I wanted to know everything about you, why I needed to sit with you during lunch, why I enjoyed coming over to your room before sleeping even though I was exhausted? It just didn’t make sense to me, and I needed more… help. Suki seemed to think my problems were about her, and she kissed me today. But I don’t like her! I’ve never liked her, because shit, y/n, I’m in love with you too.”

They say love was magnetic, that it drew people in, making everyone a better them. For years you never believed it, why would you? But there was something in the air, something that made you ignore the tears pouring down your face.

Your hands left his and found a home on the collar of his shirt; Shouto’s placed his on your waist.

Despite the tears on your face, his face was drawn to yours, and his lips found yours. The two of you walked into your room, stepping on the chocolate box, and your lips familiarized with each other, greeting and pulling each other in. There was the click of the door and had you two been listening carefully, maybe you would have heard the hushed screams of your classmates.

“I love you.”

[hesesols]

Dreamer’s Disease

Day 10 of Ichiruki month 2020

Summary: It takes her the fourth- or maybe the fifth sleepover to admit that she’s catching feelings from him- Ichigo Kurosaki, her sort-of friends with benefits from Physics.

And for the love of God and Chappy, it is not a revelation that she takes well to.

Rating: MA

FF/ao3

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Newton's 3rd Law: For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

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The morning light is blinding.

Rukia wakes up to his mouth pressing incessantly against her skin, dropping fervent kisses and the occasional nip or two as she blinks blearily at her surroundings. Sometime during the night she shifted and they ended up in a mess of tangled limbs- hip pressed against hip, his hand woven into her hair, her legs wrapped around his waist. His unspoken invitation to fill an ache that is equal parts of a want and a need earns him a lazy moan- heavy with sleep but he takes it anyway.

It becomes reciprocal enough when she slants her mouth to his and digs her heels into his lower back.

Languid muscles stretch and she maps his body like a canvas, tracing the outline of every bump and scar that she could lay her hands on. Warm hands grip at her hips, spreading her thighs apart as he settles himself between them. Fingers leave their temporary perch at the back of her knee to coat themselves in her warmth, pumping, curling- leaving her with the need for more as he tests her slickness.

The euphoria that she feels flooding her veins is entirely visceral when he sinks into her.

She cries out- in pain, in pleasure. His teeth are sharper than expected, drawing blood when she yields and bares her neck to him. Tentative licks follow but he's too far gone to be entirely gentle with the gesture when his mouth envelops her tender tit and clamps down on her nipple.

She feels limbless and unbound, pliable in his hands as he takes her into his arms and throws her legs over his shoulders. He moans her name, drawing the syllables out, punctuating each one with a hard thrust of his hips.

She gasps.

The new angle hits her just right and the world is beautiful in the way light streams through barely open blinds- the way it gilds him, hits his jawline perfectly and leaves him bronze and golden and a hundred thousand adjectives she can't quite string together as her mind hazes.

The want in her unfurls- feral and a little unhinged in her desperation. She tugs at his hair, hears him hiss when her nails dig a little too harshly into his skin. He pays her back in kind with the near painful nip on her lower lip- a little of a punishment and a warning but Rukia is unrepentant.

Violet eyes burn into his as she gives him a challenging look by way of the defiant tilt of her chin, daring him to do his worst, welcomes it even.

"Brat," he growls, tightening his grip on her thighs and the curve of his lips is almost sadistic as he withdraws- slow and purposeful enough to make Rukia whimper in response only to slam back harder into her.

Her vision swims, body shuddering as he holds her in place, frantic thrusts pumping in and out of her slickness. The sounds their bodies make with each other, her quick, shaky breathless sighs in contrast to his grunts and curses- deep, groaning voice straining, steeped in his ache—

"Look at me."

His hand cups her jaw, husky voice harshly demanding her obedience and she struggles to keep up. Her eyelids flutter but it's too hard, she thinks. And entirely unfair that he's there coherently stringing along full sentences albeit struggling in some parts while she's lying on her back, her pussy stretched out and filled up, too rawed to find her voice.

"I want to see your eyes when you come."

She starts to protest, wants to tell him that it's too hard but the tug on her hair is sharp and sudden and her eyes widen in surprise, blinking away the tears.

She sees him.

Him with his pretty eyes, the hungry gleam behind them and his devastating smirk, the veins in his neck stretching, the bob of his Adam's apple; the shameless way her body responds to his, the squelch of their naked sex as their bodies come together only to fall apart in each other's arms.

She's a lost cause. Her walls clench and she climaxes with a scream that has him tumbling down the abyss after her.

Coming back down from the high is always the hardest part.

Her body is sore and satiated, mind still a hundred miles away as he peels off the used condom and throws it away.

His heat is delicious and when he leans in to plant lazy kisses on her still flushed skin, she's almost tempted to start something else.

She doesn't of course. Class starts in an hour and everyone knows Kurotsuchi is a sadistic motherfucker who likes to sweep in at least 15 minutes earlier and declare whoever that comes in later than him as a latecomer and bar said 'latecomer' from attending the lecture.

.

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"Do you want your eggs scrambled?"

She nods, gives herself a mental pat on the shoulder when she doesn't whimper or reach out for him when he picks himself up- butt naked still and really he knows what the sight of his ass does to her- pads over to the kitchen.

Her brain is screaming at her to leave. She's getting too attached to him- too used to the idea of sleeping over with breakfast served when they both got into the arrangement knowing full well that things were supposed to be fun and casual- read: no strings attached friends with benefits.

Catching feelings for her fellow classmate who may have won the genetic lottery when it comes to bedroom eyes and to-die-for jawline, is the last thing she needs.

But then the aroma of food fills her senses and her stomach rumbles in response.

She sighs. Did she mention that he cooks too?

Rolling over to her side, Rukia tells herself to consider the facts: that Ichigo's flat is only 10 minutes away from campus (6 really if they run), that he's already cooking her breakfast and it would seem so horribly rude if she couldn't even stay after he went through all that trouble- she bites her lips, and reasons that maybe she can stay a little longer.

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Like two responsible adults and upstanding citizens in the making, they end up missing the lecture.

A quickie in the showers somehow turns into another thing and this other thing leads into her fucking his brains out- cow girl style (her way of saying thank you for the meal and multiple orgasms among other things) and then by the time she comes to… well- is there really a point to attending lectures or doing anything for that matter when her knees are so wobbly she can barely walk in a straight line?

When she finally leaves his place, it's already the morning after and Rukia knows she has a problem when she can't even bring herself to care about her attendance record.

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.

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That was weeks ago.

Now she's avoiding the hell out of him. Ducks into the girl's toilet whenever she sees even a hint of orange coming her way and makes up excuses or straight up ghosts him when he texts her to come over.

Anyone with eyes could see that she's avoiding him and when even the ever-so discreet Rangiku Matsumoto makes it a point to ask you about it- you know you're in deep shit.

So she makes up some half-assed excuse about catching up on assignments. She is an Engineering major- the work is supposed to be gruelling, and it should hardly be a surprise to anyone if she deigns that she's in need of a sabbatical break from the drama and just focus on good old-fashioned scholarly stuff.

Or at least that's what she keeps telling everyone (herself included), however unconvincing they may find her excuses to be.

Of course, it's still entirely possible that he would seek her out himself. It just isn't a possibility that she entertains much given their limited history together- they just share Physics together, united by their mutual dislike of the teaching professor and early morning lectures, they don't even have the same major for crying out loud! The whole sharing bodily fluids business was nothing more than an unfortunate case of alcohol intoxication, human biology and the age-old curse of being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The subsequent decision to be friends with benefits was clearly the culmination of a series of bad decisions and just as impressive alcohol poisoning.

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.

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Rukia hurls the contents of her breakfast into the toilet bowl. Her throat burns and the taste of bile lingers so badly that mouthwash is needed.

Weakly, she creeps out of her bathroom- more crawling than actually walking at this stage and calls Renji.

Her childhood best friend answers on the third ring and judging by his unusually high-pitched voice, was anxious to the point of hyperventilation.

"Where are you, Rukia? Classes started an hour ago! Our presentation is up next!"

She groans. Her stomach does a little flip at the thought of public-speaking and she thinks she's due another visit to the porcelain god.

"Renji, I'm sick."

"Seriously? How?" he screeched.

"Bad sushi," she offers by way of explanation. They got a little too carried away with Nanao's twenty-third birthday last night and decided to splurge. The menu said it was an all-you-can-eat buffet and the sashimi- her face turns green; oh it was definitely the sashimi, she pigged out on them and among the girls, she seems to have it worst. When she finally regains her ability to keep food down and walk like a normal person again, the first thing she is going to do is give the Japanese restaurant a one-star review on Google.

Renji seems to be talking gibberish on the other end and she hisses at him to calm down.

"Sorry, I'm just freaking out right now. You're supposed to be giving the presentation. And you know that I'm not exactly on speaking terms with Shuuhei right now because of you-know-what."

She sighs, ignoring the way her hair is plastered to her forehead in cold sweat. Boys are stupid and their topics of heated debate infinitely stupider. It's something to do with sports, beyond that Rukia doesn't really understand. Nor does she particularly care.

They're both such drama queens. Never again, she tells herself, is she ever going to partner with either of them for a group project.

"Just read out the discussion part. You'll be fine."

Renji has the charisma of a natural-born leader and the confidence to boot, as long as he doesn't freak out from stage fright- they'll be fine. Rukia proofread the report twice. Their maths is sound and the theoretical component to their project, flawless.

"Ok. But are you sure you're going to be fine? I'll drop by after lecture with some soup."

"Ok. Just leave it outside the door. I might not have the energy to open the door to let you in."

"Alright. Sweet corn soup ok?"

She scoffs.

"Cheapskate. You can do better than that," She's due a bit more by way of compensation. As the hard-carry for the team, Renji owes her that much at least. "I want steaming hot chicken and ginger congee with spring onions and a side serving of pickled cucumber."

"Well how am I gonna get that?"

She shouldn't have thought about food. The churning in her stomach is starting again and she dives for the toilet, barely making it in time.

"Figure it out, dumbass!"

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She is woken up by the hard thumps on the door. It takes her a while to gain her bearings and get up from bed.

She almost wishes that Renji would stop knocking so loudly. It is making her head pound and the room is spinning until her hand catches on the door knob and twists it open. The breath of fresh air and sunlight on her skin makes the sickness a little more bearable and for the first time in the hours since she's been puking her guts out, she is finally feeling something other than nausea.

"Yo."

She blinks, desperately trying to rub the sleep away from her eyes because she could have sworn that it's Ichigo standing outside the door, arms laden with groceries and food stuff.

Rukia almost slams the door shut in his face. She's suddenly feeling all sorts of self-conscious about her appearance, about her messy knot of hair, her poor sickly complexion, and the fact that she can barely stand upright without holding onto the door.

Clad in her old high school jersey that doubles as her nightie, it takes her a whole minute of standing at the door, gapping like an idiot at the sight of him to realize that she's braless underneath it and Ichigo is staring at her breasts and oh god, she thinks she's going to be sick.

She lets go of the door knob and it's the mother of all bad ideas when she notices that her head is suddenly much lighter than her feet and she's falling—

Strong arms grip at her waist and she is so glad that he's not wearing any cologne as she clings on to him by his shirt. The smell of clean laundry and body warmth- a hint of peppermint from his aftershave, soothes her enough that her stomach stops churning.

"Woah. You're literally falling for me here, Kuchiki. Have some tact. We're still in the hallway. What will the neighbours say?"

Rukia snorts- retort half-forming at the tip of her tongue that he shouldn't be flattering himself but manages only to shoot a baleful glare at him. The lack of a proper retort is proof enough that she truly isn't feeling herself.

His amusement morphs into a look of concern, eyebrows furrowing as he tightens his hold on her.

"You're really sick, huh?"

A weak nod is all that she can manage. When he presses a cool hand against her forehead, it takes her all the self-restraint that she can muster not to whine or whimper. Clammy skin notwithstanding, her body feels hot and she thinks she's had enough of standing up now. He purses his lips, taking charge of the situation as he ushers her indoors and shuts the door behind them.

"Let's get you settled into bed."

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.

He's still there when she wakes up.

The sun has only just set and the glow of her table lamp casts him in hues of soft yellow. She wants to believe that it's something more than pity in his eyes when he locks gaze with her.

"Hey," she calls out weakly.

There's a wet flannel on her forehead and a blanket thrown over her. His weight settles comfortably next to her on the mattress, keeping her warmer still. With his help, she manages to prop herself to sit upright and grabs the glass of water on her side.

"Right back at you, sleeping beauty. Feeling better?"

She nods. The water is refreshing against her parched throat and she finishes it in seconds.

"T-Thank you."

He grunts in response, tucking her back into bed and when she protests, silences her arguments with a firm and sound reply of 'I'm a doctor's son. I know what I'm doing'. Rukia is too weak and her brain too sluggish to come up with a proper comeback, so she begrudgingly obliges.

"I better get going. There's some congee for you in the thermos flask when you wake up. And there's a tub of pickled cucumber in your fri-"

Her hand grabs at his, a weak tug by all accounts but his body stiffens and he stills. Soft brown eyes are staring back at her and it renders her defences futile. This is her at her most vulnerable, stripped down to something that predates her Kuchiki upbringing, before she even knew to arm herself with a tongue sharp enough to cut and wound.

"Stay?"

She's overstepping and pushing boundaries that he's not comfortable with. Wincing when the words ring a little too desperately in her ears and her pride balks at the blank look on his face, she tries to take them back but he beats her to it.

"Scoot over then."

His voice is gruff but he's drawing the blanket up and sliding under it. His warmth presses comfortably to her back and her eyelids flutter shut, letting out a contented sigh when his arm drapes across her middle.

Belatedly she realizes that at this stage maybe they're more than just casual fuck buddies to each other. For starters, he didn't have to come to her door and he most certainly didn't have to stay when she asked him to. Sex isn't even on the table and she's reeling from all the implications.

Does he want them to be something more? Does she?

Is it something that—

"Just go to sleep. I promise I'll still be here in the morning. We can talk then."

Her mind halts at the sound of his voice whispering so tenderly into her ears. She relents. If he's still here in the morning, curled up next to her maybe they'll have the dreaded grownup conversation then.

It's a promise that she holds him to.

FF/ao3

Review, reblog, like, comment or even ask to send some love my way.

[365days365movies]

March 11, 2021: The Seventh Seal (1957) (Part One)

Well, I did Cocteau this month already, so...time for another big boi director, I guess.

I’m sorry for me, too, because this one scares me a little more than Cocteau.

Ingmar Bergman. One of the greatest directors of all time, and the only prominent Swedish director that I’ve ever heard of. Also someone whom I’m DEFINITELY not qualified to judge, but here we are anyway.

Best known for Persona, Fanny and Alexander, and...one more movie, Bergman was an EXTREMELY prolific director, and far more influential on global film than you or I know. Seriously, dude influenced everyone from Martin Scorcese to Terry Jones to Peter Hewitt in one way or another. He’s passed away, as of 2007, at the age of 89. And speaking of Death...

There have been a LOT of incarnations of Death in media. Hell, we literally looked at one two movies ago, in Orpheus. You could argue that Ugetsu also revolved around death, but I’m talking about Death, the physical embodiment of the concept.

Now, the most common incarnation seen is the Grim Reaper (pictured above), but there are MANY other well-known versions. Here, have a few different versions, just for taste.

Yeah, that’s a lot. Kudos if you knew all of them! But that last one...I mentioned Peter Hewitt earlier. He directed Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey, and in it, the two meet that films version of Death, a Swedish-accented ghoul. And if you’ve ever wondered about that, or about this joke from the opening song of Muppets: Most Wanted:

...Well, keep reading. Like I said, Bergman was influential, and perhaps NONE of his films was quite as influential as The Seventh Seal or Det sjunde ingelet. Welcome to a show about Death.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

ONCE AGAIN, The Criterion Collection logo brings us in, followed by the opening credits and music from that should accompany a Dark Souls boss, followed by a quote from Revelation 8:1-6, about the opening of the Seventh Seal. Roll credits?

Well, no. Instead, on the shore of the Atlantic Ocean, we meet a knight, resting there and praying to God, as his horses drink from the salt water. This is Antonius Block (Max von Sydow), a knight who is resting here with his squire, Jöns (Gunnar Björnstrand). As Block takes out his chess set, he is joined by...

ALREADY?

Holy shit, I didn’t expect this scene to happen FOUR MINUTES IN??? Dear Lord, if this is happening now, what the hell is the rest of this movie? I am afraid of that answer now.

Anyway, yes, this is Death (Bengt Ekerot). And yeah, dude is indeed a CREEPY motherfucker. He’s been at Block’s side for a long time, but has now finally come for him, at last.

However, Block, ever clever knight that he is, capitalizes on rumors that he’s heard about the character, and challenges him to a game of chess. They start, with Block playing white and Death playing black.

But as they’re about to begin, we cut to Block and Jöns leaving the beach. Huh. OK then, I guess we’ll get back to that, huh? Jöns speaks of ill omens, and they see a pair of corpses, rotted after a long time dead. As their journey continues, we shift focus from them to a small group of actors in a caravan.

One of these actors - Jof (Nils Poppe) - sees a vision of a woman walking with her infant child, as angelic music plays in the background. He runs back to the caravan, where he wakes the sleeping Mia (Bibi Andersson), his wife. He tells her that this was the Virgin Mary and her baby boy, Jesus. Um...wow. Holy shit, my man.

Mia takes her husband’s vision as his active imagination, while he takes it as pure fact. Apparently, he’s very prone to having these kinds of visions. Mia warns him to tamp those visions down, or people will think him a fool. All of this rouses both fellow actor Jonas Skat (Erik Strandmark), and Jöns and Mia’s infant son Mikael (a cute chubby baby).

The troupe is on their way to Einsmore, performing for a group of priests. They will perform in a play about Death, once again making me think about Beetlejuice the Musical, which is really need to watch.

Block and Jöns arrive at a church, where real-world painter Albertus Pictor (Gunnar Olsson) is painting a Danse Macabre. Jöns asks why paint something so...well, macabre, and Pictor notes that it’s not a bad thing to remind people that they will die. This is especially as the Black Plague sweeps across Europe. YUP. IT’S THAT TIME PERIOD.

The two speak more on the absolute HORROR of the Bubonic Plague, a topic that clearly bothers Jöns. Meanwhile, Block goes to pray in a confessional, where he reveals that he doesn’t truly understand the point of prayer in this world. He’s clearly struggling with his faith, which must be HELL for a knight. And he delivers these confessions to his ever-present companion: Death.

Block wants God to speak to him directly, and questions whether or not God truly exists. He wants to do one last, meaningful thing before he meets his inevitable end. Block hasn’t yet realized that he’s speaking with Death, and openly talks about the chess game they began that morning. Death replies that they will continue their game in a nearby inn. This is how Block intends to prolong his own life.

He goes back out to meet Jöns, who’s still speaking with the painter, and the two leave the church. Directly outside, a woman is in the stocks, and is preparing to be burnt at the stake for learning carnal knowledge of Satan. She’s also being blamed for being the cause of the Black Plague itself. Just gotta say, big if true, goddamn. Black wants to know if she’s met the Devil himself, but she’s not quite all there.

Block and Jöns continue their journey, making their way from farmlands. Jöns goes into one of the barns in a village, where a dead body lies. He then hides as another man enters, and steals jewelry from the woman’s corpse. This is Raval (Bertil Anderberg), and he’s quickly caught in the act by a mute woman (Gunnel Lindblom).

However, before he can do anything to this poor girl, he’s stopped by Jöns, who recognizes him from the seminary, ten years prior. He tells him to shove off, and offers the mute woman a place as his housekeeper. And, uh...yeah, Jöns is kind of a dick, but more of a cad, y’know? He’s not likeable, but he also isn’t hateable.

In town, the actors’ troupe is performing, and the leader of the troupe - Skat - is seduced by a woman during the performance, and they have sex in the bushes behind the stage. As all of this is happening, the performance is interrupted by a group of flagellants, extremist priests that whip themselves and parade through the town, showing their extreme devotion to their faith. Fuckin’ yikes, this is a thing that ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

And as these people, devoted in their faith and pain, march through the town, the townspeople are moved to tears by this act. And this act has real blood, sweat, and tears poured into it. The head priest of the parade then gives a fatalist sermon to the townsfolk, noting that death will come for them all with the plague, and berating them for their seeming ignorance of their fate.

And dude is MEAN. He mocks people’s appearance, and screams to all of them that they’re doomed, and will die painful deaths. Watching on is not only the actors’ troupe, but also Block, Jöns, and the mute girl (yeah, she never gets a name, goddamn it). The pain parade moves on, singing their solemn hymns all the way. And I’m not gonna lie...it’s intense. Especially knowing that this shit actually HAPPENED? Damn.

Once they pass, Jöns notes his disbelief at this display, never believing how far people will go, or the stories that they’ll tell. He’s interrupted by blacksmith Plog (Åke Fridell), who’s looking for his wife. Meanwhile, inside, a group of townspeople talk about the spreading plague, and wonder if this is the end times indeed. Plog comes in and asks Jof where his wife is. He also doesn’t know, but it’s revealed that this is the woman that Skat ran off with in the bushes. The conversation is joined by thief Raval, who outs Jof as an actor, and a friend of Skat.

Raval and Plog both threaten him for information on Skat and Lisa’s whereabouts, and humiliate him in front of the entire tavern. It’s actually quite hard to watch as well. This poor, poor guy, who seems like a nice enough dude, is essentally tortured for the transgressions of his asshole friend. But it’s interrupted by Jöns, who stops Raval in his tracks, and slashes his face, which he said he’d do if he ever saw him again.

Excellent spot for Part 2, I think! See you there!