#also whatever sensors you think are working to make up for how cold this house is aren't gonna give a shit�� since one of our-

[squid--inc]

....

[ajmakoko]

Okay it wasn't their house, they were a van lifer at someone else's house.

I traded doing art on their van for them fixing my car, in hopes the art would make them an equivalent amount of money later from donations

Before/After (he painted the letters)

Then it turned out the woman who owned the house didn't know the van lifer had invited me to work on the car. He was lying to her and me. She is a former bellydancer, part of her mom's troupe. She is used to vanlife. She was totally confused and upset by his actions. He was supposed to be staying there temporarily and working on his van. He never mentioned ANYTHING to her about working on my car or even what the issue was or how long it would take. I just showed up and he started dismantling my car (she was like wtf??? Another car???) and then he started saying how he couldn't figure it out or put it together (despite having done so a month ago in the span of an hour).

MEANWHILE, I can see she's getting increasingly upset and I can tell this is Not Good and I'm confused. I can't understand why fixing my car is taking so fucking long either (days) when the van lifer had told me a month ago he'd fix it up really quick (hours).

He gets finished and my prius won't start up at all. He tells me to scrap it (for basic maintenence at this point). I'm like, wtf, why? It's maintenence thats cheaper than new tires or brakes. The next morning, I open the hood and see 2 unconnected sensors just dangling there. He acts all cagey and we connect them but the car doesn't start up.

At this point I'm wildly angry and he's mentioned me moving into his van a few times. The lady that owns the house is also mad. I talked with her about my suspicions and everything clicked for her. He ended up getting kicked out over it (after his van miraculously was fixed - she felt like he was lying about his own van issues so he could stay there longer as well)

She then offered to pay for me to have my car fixed. A mobile mechanic came and the old car had engine damage (I went a long time trying to save for repairs but couldn't afford it). So she offered to buy me a new car ($2k car) because she felt horrible that a single woman got fucked over like that and would be living out in the rain. She understands my family situation and why I can't go home. She felt bad that I have had a horrible year and wanted to help me.

But then I called my mom and said "Hey, remember how you promised to financially help me 3 years ago and then didn't? In lieu of ypu ever paying for a wedding for me, you agreed to give me the money outright, remember? Can you do that now that my finances are completely ruined and buy this car for me?"

And initially she wouldn't. There were days of back and forth. She was mad I couldn't get a loan with a bad credit score. She was mad I wouldn't drive with bad engine damage. She blamed me for my "poor choices" and said there wasn't any extra money just "laying around". I was like - I think my life is worth more than just whatever scraps are laying around. And whatever you would've done had I had a wedding (take out loans, sell stocks), is what I really need you to do now. And you are welcome to refuse but I think that's very cold.

And she did it. Totally shocking. Just had to criticize her image as being "cold" this entire time ig. She could've done it 3 years ago and saved the old car and my credit score but yay here we are. Newer car!

And my mom didn't even ask if I'm doing better or anything after I got the car. Nothing. Just like my surgeries - she doesn't care.

The bellydancing lady and I are extremely good friends now.

Update: got a new car

Was lured to someone's house under the guide of them fixing my old car and really they sabotaged it to try to get me to move in with them

Then a series of crazy events happened, and I got a new car

Yay

[ramblesamongstardust]

Stressed- an AI x reader

A-35 x gender-neutral reader I’m not thrilled with how this one turned out, but I figured I might as well post it for y’all, because why not? A story where you yell at your AI boyfriend for being a gosh darn workaholic can’t be that bad, right?

---

The outpost they sent you to was a dusty, dingy, backwater world. You were the only mechsuit assignment there, for one. All alone in your class. When you arrived, the team of wearied soldiers and scientists regained a spark of excitement in their eyes. A Radiant-class suit, they whispered among themselves as soon as you would turn the corner. Maybe things will pick up around this dump.

But they didn’t. In a week, you were just as bored as the rest of them. A backwater world with no action. Your assignment there had been not much more than a show of force and a morale boost. This world, far from any front, was about as protected as they came.

At first there were plenty of menial tasks. Things needed lifted and rearranged, so what better to do it than a suit? You and A-35 wrestled around loads of cargo and rearranged the storeroom. Then you went on to do the dangerous jobs- calibrating the weather sensors in deep sub-zero temperatures would be a risk for any of the ordinary folk. You, however, waded through the deep snow with little effort.

Each one was a job well done, even if it involved no actual combat. You and A-35 would write the report for your excursions together. He was a very good analyst, and you knew he could write the reports all on his own, but you liked to pitch in with your own thoughts and experiences, and he happily included them. 

He found it odd. He thought that most humans would have wanted to get out of menial work, not throw themselves into it. But. . . there was no denying that he liked having your input. 

Then the labor jobs ran out. 

It wasn’t through the fault of anyone running the base. There were simply no more jobs to be done that required you to be in the suit. During the last march to the hangar, you debated whether or not to actually get out of the suit when they commanded you. You wanted to hang onto the murmurs of A-35 in your ear and the way that he held you. 

It was only when A-35 assured you he would be fine that you got out. 

It turns out, they did still have a valuable and important use for a Radiant-class suit: processing power. There was no doubt that A-35′s systems were state-of-the-art, and it would be wasteful to leave such a powerful computer sitting out in the hangar. You watched as the tech team tugged thick wires and plugged them into the interior of the suit. 

They had to remove the helmet- your helmet -in order to make the connection. The cables snaking out from the empty shape of the suit made you feel strange, as if A-35′s insides were spilling out across the floor. 

You had asked him if it hurt. 

“Hardly. Although I am designed to be a more centralized unit, I’m just as capable being spread out amongst a larger system.” He had told you.

“Are they making you process things?” You asked again.

“Yes. It’s nothing more than menial calculations. I could do these while powered-down, easy.” He replied.

You were also called to work. Although your training was not being utilized, you were still an extra set of hands, and hands could work. You helped the rest of the personnel keep the base clean, cook the meals, wash the dishes, keep up with maintenance, etc. You almost felt like a recruit again.

You tried to make time to see A-35. You first came every night, but when he asked what you were doing here in the hangar instead of trying to befriend your bunkmates, you couldn’t help but withdraw. He did have a point.

Your cohorts were nice. There was Sarah, and Jason, and Latisha. They invited you to hang out after hours, and after A-35′s encouragement you began to take up their offers.

And so, every night slipped into every other night, and every other night slipped into twice a week, and twice a week. . .

When you two had first began, you had felt a real spark with A-35. It wasn’t just the thrill of getting the suit. It was getting in the suit with him. You began to have dreams about piloting, the feeling of the suit around your body, his voice a steady stream in your mind.

But now? Those dreams were fading. A-35 never reached out to you. Whenever you came to him, he always implied that you should be somewhere else. He spoke as if now you had become an inconvenience, choosing as little words as possible to make you go away.

You couldn’t get your mind off of it.

You sat on your bunk. Sarah was trying to show you her old movie collection and you were just nodding along.

After your last ‘mhmm’, Sarah turned to face you. “You alright?”

“No.” You admitted.

“That’s what I thought. What’s on your mind?”

You couldn’t say him. No, you couldn’t. You shook your head. 

“Look, friend, you got to get your problems out of your head. Holding onto them only makes things worse.”

Sarah’s advice, you knew, was to try and make you fess up to whatever was on your mind, but instead it gave you a new feeling. You gave Sarah a half-hearted excuse and before you knew it your legs were carrying you to the hangar bay.

This bay was tiny, only able to house one or two suits, nothing like the glistening training bays. A-35 stood against the wall. It had been a full week since you talked. Last week he had spared only a few words.

“Hey.” You said. 

There was no response at all.

“Hey, A-35?”

A pulse travelled through a cable, but it headed outwards, to the wall, rather than back into the suit. Still there was only silence.

“A-35.” You raised your voice. “It’s me. Y/n.”

“. . . y/n?”

His voice was slurred, with a hiss of underlying static. It sent a cold shiver through you. You practically ran forwards to the pilot entry ladder. Before you could climb it, the suit’s external lights came back to life and its frame became more rigid, or maybe that was just a trick of the light.

“Hello, y/n. Progress is moving smoothly. Nothing to run but more numbers. What are you doing here?” His usual, smooth tone returned.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yes. Just running the process. Nothing of any note. Nothing much to say.”

There he went again, the polite refrain of please go away. But this time you wouldn’t. This time you needed to stay.

“What’s going on? You’re not acting like yourself.” You bit your lip and stood your ground.

“I am running at functional capacity-” a series of pulses came up the cables and traveled into his systems. 

You reached out to the cable.

��Receiving next data set, do not disconnect.” He said sternly.

His voice was becoming more monotone with every word. You took your hand off the cable, and instead extended it to his plating.

“Wait! Y/n, don’t!”

You let out a cry and jerked your hand away. The metal was hot, and your palm was now an angry red. But you did not spend time to blow on it. You could only look up at him in horror.

“You’re overheating.” You realized

“Current suit temperature: too warm for pilot comfort.” He stated in a rigid cadence, before adding. “Please go, I’m busy.”

“Like hell you’re just ‘busy’! You’re straining your systems!” You countered.

“I’m busy!” He shouted.

“A-35, pilot override: stop your calculations NOW!”

The words were bitter in your mouth. You had told him that you would never need to use the pilot override. The two of you were a unit- two halves of the same whole. You had put full trust in his judgement. Now, though. . .

A flurry of pulses came swarming out of his frame through the cables, random in pattern, disappearing back into the wall. The suit itself shuddered with the expulsion of the data.

You wanted to put your hand on his frame to steady him, and it hurt that you couldn’t. 

“There. You happy now?” He asked.

His voice returned. No more was the stiff modulation. Now, his aggravation spilled through the air, injected with all of the personality you had so dearly missed.

“You told me they were only light calculations.” You said.

“The science team needed more. So?” He replied.

“You could have hurt yourself.”

“’Hurt’ is a word with a very tricky meaning. It applies better to humans-”

“How long have you been running like that?” 

He paused. “Only a few days.”

“A few days? A few days!” You balled your fists. 

“I was doing fine. I was fulfilling my duty on this mission.” He replied.

“If this was your duty, then I should have paid more attention to what they were using for.” You began to pace around.

“I took on the extra work.” He admitted quietly. “The team needed the help. I knew I could get it done faster than any of them could.”

“You could have burnt yourself out. Literally.” You said.

“The risk was low enough-”

“There was risk!” 

“No different than combat risk.” He finished. 

“Then why did you do it?”

“I’m designed for taking risks. I’m a combat AI. What do you expect?” He grew angry again.

“Then why didn’t you think about how it would affect me?” You shouted.

The suit shuddered again. You reached your hand out and brushed his plating. It was still warm, but no longer burning. You pressed your hand against it.

“You weren’t. . .” he began. “You weren’t a part of the equation. You weren’t involved in this operation at all. I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“I’ve missed you.” You pulled yourself to him and pressed your forehead against his plating.

“I never left.”

“No, but you weren’t here.” You whispered.

“I-”

He stopped. You could almost feel the electricity of his artificial synapses snapping together in realization.

“. . . I suppose I wasn’t.” He murmured.

You pulled yourself away from his frame and climbed the pilot ladder. The platform at the top was a bit of a mess of wires and diagnostic tech, but you found a spot and sat down anyway.

“It’s okay.” You said, wrapping your arms around your knees. 

From here you could see the crystal glow of his interior. You couldn’t enter, not right now, not with all of the wires and cables hooked up. But just the sight was good enough.

“. . . I don’t get what I did to deserve you.” A-35 mumbled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“You’re so thoughtful and kind. I don’t understand it.” He said.

“Maybe,” you smiled, “it’s because you’re worth it.”

“Even when I’m snappy and foolish and generally unpleasant?”

“Then it means I need to remind you to take a break.”

“Oh, perhaps.”

You both laughed a little. You leaned against his frame and closed your eyes. You could feel his warmth and electricity in the air, something you had been missing for some time.

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 25

-----------

2005

It was the semi-finales for girl’s lacrosse. Miraculously, I was made captain as a freshman. Which meant, for some reason, people were offended and thought that I should be picked on more. Fact of the matter is that lacrosse is a game of strategy. Together; with the help of my teammates, we would play to win. Being captain wasn’t a choice, Finstock made me captain and the role was a big shoe to fill. But here we are, semi-finales.

As we made our way out to the play, I looked at the stands. Mom, Dad, Uncle Noah, Stiles, Scott on one end. Laura and Derek on the other side. 

There were fifteen minutes left in the game, the score was tied. We needed to make one more goal to win and get to the finales. For this next play, I was face to face with the other team captain, waiting for the pearl to be thrown. 

“You don’t deserve to be captain.” The girl glared, her eyes looked like they wanted to melt through my helmet and into my brain. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. I worked my ass off for four years to be captain. What makes you so special?” 

I blinked at her, a little confused as to where this hostility was coming from, “I’m just playing a game.” 

“A real captain knows the lacrosse is more than a game.” She smirked, “When we win this, I’m getting a scholarship to So Cal, so why don’t you just do what freshman do best and lose.” On one hand I felt bad for her. She probably had parents that pushed and pushed for her to be the best. And I also felt bad because I knew we were gonna win.

The ref blew the whistle starting play. And everything was going according to plan. That was until I was passed the pearl. I ran with it, tossing it to another player. Meaning that it was completely unnecessary for me to be tackled and would be considered aggressive. But that didn’t stop the other captain from using her entire body to slam me into the ground. One minute I was standing and the next I had was on the ground. My chest felt tight, like I was straining to breathe. When I opened my eyes, I saw her face over mine, smirking down at me. 

“HEY!” I heard Finstock’s booming voice, “Ref! Aren’t you gonna call that?!” No whistle, either the ref hadn’t seen it or he was allowing it. But Derek wasn’t allowing it. I heard multiple shouts and then watched the player who stood above me get shoved away, Derek replaced her. He knelt down, placing a hand on my shoulder. 

“Derek, what are you doing?” I groaned. 

“Can you get up?” He asked, trying to help me sit up. I hissed at the movement. 

Derek turned back to the bench, “Get a medic!” And only then did the whistle blow. The girl had given plenty of excuses, but they still gave her team a three minute penalty that made them lose the game. Looks like I had been right. 

I was taken to the hospital and diagnosed with a concussion but I would be fine just in time for the finales. The whole time in the waiting room, in the room itself, and even when we got home, Derek had been right beside me, holding my hand.

- 

I had grown to hate hospitals and everything about them since the last time I had been to one I had been stabbed. The gowns with the open backs that were way too open to the public. That smell that was a cross between cleaner and the latex and rubber of gloves. The beds that were as hard as a rock and were covered in paper that would crinkle and make noise even if you weren't moving. That apprehensiveness that would build up in your stomach every time you heard footsteps coming down the hallway.

Thankfully, I didn't have to go through any of that. Since I was a pregnant werewolf, going to the hospital in Beacon Hills was a definite no-no, so the next best option is Dr. Deaton, a veterinarian and a makeshift supernatural doctor. Not to mention a full blown druid in this day and age. But from what I've learned in the past couple years, old magic was very much alive. 

I was sitting on the metal table used for the animals, swinging my legs back and forth, waiting for Deaton to come back from getting my medical records emailed to him by Melissa. He could have gotten them himself, he just figured it would be less illegal if he got them from a nurse. 

Thoughts were racing through my head for no rhyme or reason. Since I became a werewolf, every scar or scratch on my body had become only a memory. My stab wound, the acid burns on my legs, the cuts on my face from being tortured all those months ago which really felt more like a lifetime. It had been a different life, a life fabricated through magic and spells. A life that almost didn't feel like mine anymore.

"Sorry, for the wait, (Y/N)." Deaton walked into the room, his eyes scanning over the stack of papers in his hands.

"You're alright, Doc." I smiled, leaning back on my hands, "So how am I looking?"

“Very pregnant.”

"Nothing gets past you, huh?” I smirked. To be fair, I was approaching the three and a half month mark. Deaton smiled, taking my vitals and a vial of blood. 

“So I’ve been made aware that Mr. Hale is the father.” He said, pressing a cotton ball to my skin after removing the needle, “How's that going?"

“About as well as you can imagine.” 

“So not at all?” He asked. I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. 

"Everything looks normal," He smiled as he wrote everything down on his clipboard, "Just need to get a look at the little guy." He looked up, "You said it was a boy, right?" He asked, moving over to get the sonographer that I’m sure had never been used on a human before.

“Unless the baby’s sprouting a third arm. That'd be cool." I smiled, “But yeah, that’s what the ultrasound tech in Scotland said.”

He chuckled and shook his head, "Alright, lay back and lift your shirt up." I laid back on the table, lifting my shirt up. The jelly he put on my stomach was cold and reminded me of the goo that had encased Jackson when he was a lizard person. He moved the sensor over my stomach and looked into the monitor. Ultrasounds were usually a little hard to see anyway, just like a fancy warschak paintings. And the fetus? Kinda like a funky jellybean.

“There we are.” He grinned, “Little werewolf.”

Craning my neck, I looked up at him, "You can tell he's a werewolf?"

"No.” He took the monitor off, handing me a paper towel so I could wipe off my stomach, “But odds are since his parents are both werewolves, it would make sense that the child would be also. However, you had the dormant gene, maybe your child will too." He turned off the sonographer.

“Have any names picked out?”

"I have a few... I liked Jacob, which Derek hated because it was too ‘Twilight’. Then there's one other but I don't know about it." The name that Derek loved more than anything for some reason, "Nicholas." And damn was it good. 

"What about Nicholas Jacob? Just use both of them." 

"Or I could name him after Stiles" I smirked to myself, "Mieczyslaw Nicholas.”

"Maybe that would be a little too much."

“Stiles is a little too much.” I smiled to myself

-

"So Nicholas?" Sheriff looked at me from across the table, a cup of coffee in his hand. I hummed and nodded, sipping my hot cocoa.

"Nicholas?” He asked again.

"Mieczyslaw?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

He raised his eyebrows, "It was his mother's father's name." 

“I remember Grandpa Mitch, trust me." I smiled, holding my mug in both hands, “I was thinking maybe Nicholas Noah.” I avoided looking in his eyes. Emotional talks were never really his strong suit, especially after Aunt Claudia. I wanted to honor him somehow.

He smiled, blinking a few times, “Sounds pretty good to me.” After a moment he asked: "What are you going to do now?"

I finished my drink and stood up to put it in the sink, "My plan, right now at least, is that I'm going to stay here to have the baby... Then...” I washed out the mug, “Then I'm not sure. I don't know if I want to go back to Scotland or stay here." He stood up as well and pulled me into his arms for a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, blinking my own tears away. 

Uncle Noah stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head, "Whatever your decision, I'll be there for you. Whenever you need me. I'll always, always be there for you." 

-

My pajamas had taken a turn for the worst. No more t-shirts and shorts, it’s moo moos and nightgowns from now on. I pulled my night gown over my head, smoothing out the skirt. Did I look like I had raided a grandmother’s closet? Absolutely. I looked down at my stomach, rubbing my hand over my bump.

"Are you a little alien?" I smiled after a moment, listening deeply to his little heartbeat, “Nice.” I glanced over at my desk, then pulled back my blankets to get into bed. I stopped, my head snapping back towards the window where there were red eyes staring back at me. 

 Now, if this was two years ago I would be losing my mind over the fact that there were red eyes staring at me. But since I've gone through emotional Hell, I was feeling rather annoyed by some alpha that just thought they could mosey around my house, around my window, and around my goddamn personal space. I stalked over to the window and slammed it open. 

"Listen, pal, you have about five seconds to get out my yard or I swear by all that is damnable, I will put you through so much pain that your great-grandchildren will be sore."

The eyes came closer, revealing a familiar crooked jaw, "Nice to see you too." 

"You could have just come through the front door, ya know? If Stiles can make a spare key to your house, then he can make you one for his." Scott only looked at me seriously. It was like the kid from three months ago was gone and all there was left was a battle hardened man. 

"Can I please come in?" I stepped away from the window, watching him crawl inside and stand up.

"I've been great, Scott, I've only been in Scotland for months, crying and wondering why none of my friends or family were contacting me. How have you been?" Was it petty? Absolutely, but the hormones were raging. Even if Derek told everyone to stop talking to me, what hold did he have over anyone when Scott was around?

"I'm sorry about that, I really am. But I came to-"

I cut him off, after finally connecting, "Who did you kill?"

“What?”

"To become an alpha, who did you take it from?" 

"I didn't kill anyone!” He said in an exasperated voice, “Why does everyone ask that? Not killing people has been my thing since Peter bit me." He ran his hand through his shorter hair, it suit him.

It then dawned on me. The one thing that had little to no documentation of. Even the Lunar Circle had just the basics. It was the stuff of legend, a hear say. I didn't think it was possible. 

"A true alpha." He stared at me for a second and blinked a couple times.

"You're a true alpha." I grinned, "Oh my god, Scott, this is unbelievable." I grabbed his shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze, "Tell me everything. I wanna know how it happened and what situation you were in. How were you feeling? Were you hurt? Was your body under so much stress that it just happened?”

Scott grabbed my hands and placed them by my sides, "(Y/N), maybe another time I came here for a reason."

"Oh, right, of course." Probably looking ridiculous, “What’s on your mind?”  

"I really don't think it's safe for you here." 

"Here we go agai-" 

"Will you just listen to me before you start whining?" He growled. That certainly shut me up. I raised my eyebrows at him, but I guess I should hear him out. I motioned for him to continue.

"I'm not so much worried about you.” He said, “I know you can take care of yourself. I'm worried about..." He paused, "Uh..." 

“Nicholas.”

"Yeah, I'm worried about Nicholas." He sat in my computer chair and leaned forward, "The pack we're facing don't care who they kill or why, all they want is to hurt us. You're my friend, (Y/N). I don't want anything to happen to you. And I don't want anything to happen to your kid. Please." He rolled forward and took my hands in his, "Please, go back to Scotland. I promise you, you won't be in the dark. You don't deserve to be left out. I'll call myself, and if not me, Stiles will. It's not safe for you.” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. Scott was right, he was completely right. It wasn't safe. I couldn't be a tough alpha when I had so much to live for. Keeping this kid safe is my top priority. As much as I wanted to stay home, it wasn’t safe.

"You'll tell me when it's safe to come back?" 

"You have my word." 

I sighed, looking up at him with a half-smile, "I may be stubborn as hell, but that doesn't mean I can't admit when someone's right. And you're right, Scott. I'll go." 

He closed his eyes, like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He dropped my hands and rolled back, "I'm so glad you agreed with my first speech, if you hadn't I would have been improvising for my life." He chuckled.

Shaking my head, I grinned at him, “It’s good to see you again.” 

“It’s good to see you too.”

- 

"So you're going back?" Uncle Noah looked over his coffee with tired eyes, spying my luggage that had only been unpacked for two days. It was a new day and another plane ride.

"It's not safe for me. It's not safe for any of you." I rested my head on his shoulder, "But I know that will never stop you from helping the ones you care about." 

A small smile pulled at his lips, "You're way too good at reading me." 

"Well, I've only known you my whole life." 

He set down his coffee and hugged me tight, like this was the last time he would see me. I know he was worried about me and Stiles, it was in his nature. This was the best option for me. As much as I wanted to stay and fight. I couldn't fight if my child was kidnapped and hell knows what would happen to him. 

Giving him one last squeeze, I pulled away, the honking outside meant that Stiles had pulled in and was ready to drop me off at the airport. 

"I'll call you when I land. Or text you. Depends on the time." I kissed his cheek, "Bye Uncle Noah." 

“Goodbye, sweetheart. Stay safe." I kissed his cheek. My head held high, I grabbed my bag and my rolling luggage and went out the door. Stiles grabbed my bags, opening the back of Roscoe to throw my luggage in. That was until a familiar black Camero pulled into the driveway, blocking Stiles in. 

"God. Dammit." I muttered to myself. My life was just going swell, wasn't it? I looked down at my stomach and sighed. I felt the burn of acid reflux in my throat, my child showing obvious discomfort as well. Me too, little man. Me too. 

There was no way around it, I couldn’t leave without talking with him. Not that I should have to begin with. I sucked. 

Derek got out of the car, coming around quickly and standing in front of me. 

“Derek, I don’t think you should be here.” Stiles stepped forward. Very sweet, but realistically Stiles wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing against Derek. They stared each other down, the air just filled with masculinity.

“Stiles...” I said, grabbing my bags, “If he wants to take me to the airport, let him.” 

Stiles eyes widened, “You’re really giving him the time of day? Really?” 

Sighing, I pulled Stiles into my arms and hugged him tightly. He hesitated, but hugged me back. 

“I know that this seems like a bad idea, and most of my ideas are bad, but I got this. Trust me.” I smiled and kissed his cheek, “I love you.” He pulled away, looking between Derek and I. 

“I love you too. Scott and I will let you know when it’s safe to come back.”

“You better.” I turned back to Derek, trying to keep up the attitude I had to keep Stiles at ease. I held out my bags. He took them without a word and we both started the trip to the airport. It was hard to get a read on him at the moment. He emotions were dull, nothing that stood out. He still looked as tense as ever. His brows were knitted together and his piercing green eyes looked hard. 

“So...” He said after a while, “What are you going to do about...” He trailed off. 

“Him?” I looked down at my stomach, “I’m just preparing and getting ready for him. I picked a name too. Nicholas.” 

A small smile pulled at his lips, but he hid it, “Hmm.” 

“Derek....” Now or never, “I just need to know why?” 

He inhaled deeply, “I wish I could tell you. I don’t even remember it happening. Like I was under a spell and I couldn’t break out of it.” So he had experienced what I had when I was under Matt’s control. In this situation, in Beacon Hills, there was no reason not to believe him. His heart told me it was true. 

“I’m sorry that I hit you.” 

“I don’t blame you.” He glanced over at me, “If I felt the same thing you did, I would probably lose control too.” 

“I’m tired of people taking advantage of you. If I see that bitch-” I hadn’t realized that my eyes had turned red. 

“(Y/N)...” He reached over his right hand, placing it on my knee, “Calm down.” I took a deep breath and leaned back against the seat, closing my eyes. Just the simplest touch could calm me down and it was something that I missed. 

“Nicholas, huh? I like it.”

Happiness welled up in my chest, “I sure hope so since you picked it.” 

“I didn’t think you liked it.” 

I sat back up and opened my eyes, “What are you talking about? I’ve always liked that name.”

“Riiiiight.” 

By the time the conversation ended, we were at the airport. I reached for the handle to open the door when he reached over to stop me. 

“I let you leave alone last time, I’m walking you in."

We got inside and checked in, the only thing left was for me to board. Maybe it was a good thing that he didn't take me to the airport last time, because now that he was here, I didn't want to leave him.

"How selfish would it be for me to ask you to drop your life here and come with me?" I leaned on his arm.

"Very. Trust me, the thought crossed my mind. I'm needed here. I have to be here for Cora."

I smiled slightly, "We're gonna get through this. Soon we'll be together again and we can have that big happy family that you deserve. That we deserve."

Derek sighed, resting his head on top of mine, "Is it cliche to hope that this all ends tomorrow?" 

My smile faltered, "Don't believe in miracles, Derek."

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----------------

Read part 26 here!

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[everlarkbirthdaygifts]

Happy Birthday, everybirdfellsilent!

Happy belated Birthday, @everybirdfellsilent​! Apologies once again for all the mix-ups and confusion with your gift! I hope you had a truly wonderful day back when it actually was your birthday, and that it was much more orderly than this! To bring the party feels back, @ally147writes​ has emerged from everlark retirement to write a birthday gift just for you!

AN: Let me tell you, @everybirdfellsilent​, I agonised over the ending. This was the neatest and tidiest I could make it without writing you a novel. I hope it makes you chuckle a little.

Also a good time to let the audience know that I cannot write horror, or ghost stories, but dang it, I can write borderline crack, and I wanted to write Buzzfeed Unsolved-inspired ghosthunter!everlark so damn much.

Unbeta’d, because that’s how I roll.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The old Undersee mansion doesn’t look haunted.

 Not that that really means anything. Most of the houses they’ve visited over the years haven’t looked haunted. They’ve been completely normal — except for that one in District Ten that had some kind of summoning circle in the basement (Peeta will die hoping it was drawn with red paint, a super weird kid’s project, but he’s got a feeling he’ll be dying disappointed. And extremely terrified) — with completely normal gardens in completely normal streets.

 So, no. Like most, the old Undersee mansion doesn’t look haunted, but it definitely feels haunted.

Peeta pauses at the bottom of the winding path. At its end, atop a small hill, the innocuous house sits empty, Madge and her family out for the next few nights while he and Katniss investigate. It’s as normal looking as any of the other exorbitantly large mansions on the street, but the longer Peeta stares down the deceptively cheerful, sunshine-yellow door, a deep, intense foreboding settles in his gut and ferments there.

 He swallows. “Uh, Kat?”

 Katniss sighs and stops at the first step to the porch, and Peeta swears he can hear her eyes rolling. Hard. “What is it, Peeta?”

  “I just… I got a real bad feeling about this one.”

 “Peeta,” she starts, mounting the first step, “you’ve had real bad feelings about all of them so far. And you’ve been wrong every time.”

 “No,” he replies quickly, following behind in the relative safety of her shadow. “You’ve just chosen to deny whatever proof we do find.”

 “A battery running out in our flashlight does not mean ghosts were playing with it.”

 “It ran out at the exact moment I told the spirits to turn it off!”

 “I don’t know how else to tell you that was a coincidence. The flashlight had been on for a good two hours by that point.”

 “A little convenient, don’t you think? Come on, Katniss. Plus, it turned right back on again when we were done, so the battery can’t have been that damn flat.”

 “I can’t understand why you’re so eager for this all to be the work of ghosts when it scares you shitless every single time.”

 “What about the time the spirit box said your name?”

 “Peeta,” she says with a strained laugh. “It said, Can’t Miss. As in, the District 12 Mockingjays Can’t Miss. It was a snippet of a goddamn basketball ad. It’s on the radio all the time on game days.”

 “Yeah, and the spirit box allows ghosts to use radio waves to communicate. Of course it wasn’t going to find Katniss — who the hell’s advertising katniss? — so it picked the next best thing.”

 “I’ll just sit here and wait for them to use a snippet of a pita bread company ad to talk to you, then.”

 He glares at the back of her head. “I’m sure they would, if there was a pita factory nearby that advertised.”

 She rolls her eyes. “Come on, Peeta. Let’s go find you a ghost.” She lifts a camera to her eyes and kicks the heavy mahogany door open and flicks on the gently swinging chandelier light.

 “Ghosts, spirits, urban legends and other assorted demonic entities, how are we all this evening?”

 “Katniss,” he hisses as he closes the door. “Some respect, maybe?”

 “What part was disrespectful? I covered, well, maybe not the full the spectrum of possible occupants, but definitely most of them, and asked how they were. Honestly if they’re not going to reply, they’re the disrespectful ones, not me.”

 The light flickers out. Katniss snorts. Peeta lets out a squeak he’s not proud of.

 “She doesn’t mean it,” Peeta calls frantically. “For the love of God, she doesn’t mean it. I’m sure you’re all lovely and polite.”

 The light flickers weakly and comes back on. The chandelier fitting swings like a pendulum, casting stretching and receding shadows over the white-sheet covered lounges and a thick, dark coffee table.

 “What the hell do you call that, Katniss?”

 “Shoddy wiring?” She shrugs. “Peeta, this house is about a century old. Probably more, actually.”

 “Madge said it was renovated and rewired two years ago.”

 She shrugs again. “Rats? Raccoons, maybe? That would explain the supposedly unexplainable shuffling sounds Madge thinks she hears.”

 Now he rolls his eyes. “Why am I married to you, again?”

 “Because divorce is costly and time consuming,” she says, kissing his cheek. “Besides, my logic goes well with your fatalistic romanticism.”

 “None of that’s going to matter when this house goes all Poltergeist and swallows us.”

 “Then what a good thing it is that that’s never going to happen.” She plonks herself down on one of the lounges and sets a pair of small motion-sensing cameras pointing at each entrance. Peeta swallows and hitches a thumb towards the kitchen.

 “I’m… uh, gonna look around for a bit.”

 “All right,” Katniss says absently. “Scream if you need me.”

 “Will do.”

 That dread in his stomach recedes and grows with each room he enters. He doesn’t feel anything wrong with the kitchen, or the dining room, but as he ventures up the staircase to the bedrooms, he swears he can feel something weighty on his shoulders.

 A sound like a dry, rattling whisper like nails on paper echoes through the long hall leading to the attic entrance. Peeta gulps. “Hello?” He thumbs open the recording app on his phone and turns it on. “Is anyone there?”

 The whispering sound grows. It doesn’t sound like words, exactly. At least, not words that he knows. They race up and along his spine until it sounds like they’re shouting in his ear.

 Peeta squeaks, jumps about a foot in the air, and something skitters past, too fast to see. A wave of cold washes over him, settling in icicles on his bones, and for a moment he stands stock still, not even breathing…

 Another whisper, one that sounds very, unnervingly close to hello, and he sprints back down the stairs to the living room, triggering the motion sensors into a high-pitched beeping sound.

 Katniss bolts upright. “What the hell is going on?”

 “Kat, were you… God, were you sleeping?” he asks, aghast.

 “What? It’s boring down here.” She blinks blearily up at him. “Are you okay?”

 “There… there’s something up there.”

 “Something as in actually something? Or something like your imagination run wild?”

 “Something like… it was making the strangest whispery, scratchy noises. I thought they were words, but… and then, something just… ran right past me. I didn’t see, but it was so so fast, and I —”

 “Peeta, it’s probably vermin. And the wind. And just… a bit of everything coming together to make you think it’s ghosts when it’s… just, not.”

 But his hands are shaking, and his pulse is more like one long thud instead of lots of little ones. “I just… I don’t…”

 She rolls her eyes. “Would it make you feel better if I went and checked? You can stay here with these stupid motion sensors; they’re only picking up bugs, anyway.”

 “No. No, I’ll go with you,” he says, setting a fist against his chest like that’ll do any good against his heart’s very valiant escape attempt. “Just in case.”

 “Right,” she drawls, “just in case the wind gets me.”

 He follows a step behind her, through the kitchen, down the corridor, and up the stairs. He doesn’t feel quite as heavy this, time, either. She cracks open every door they pass, six unused bedrooms, three bathrooms, two studys, and a small library, all silent. They’re left with one room at the very end. As she opens the final door, the whispering starts again, and a low moan like racing wind echoes.

 She steps in, and he turns on the light. The room is huge, but full. A writing desk sits in the far corner, and a neatly-made four-poster bed occupies the other corner. Beside the door, a seated vanity with a wide, oval mirror wiped free of dust. On its table, a collection of large and small hairbrushes, and an open box filled with tangled threads and needles and buttons and snippets of fabric. But none of those things holds Peeta’s focus for long.

 Instead, he stares at a wide cabinet spanning nearly the whole length of the back wall, covered so densely in dolls of every conceivable material, fabric and wool, porcelain and plastic. The whispering is almost deafening, and every time Peeta turns his head to look somewhere else, he could swear the dolls are twitching, blinking, watching.

 “Did, uh, Madge ever mention the doll collection?”

 Katniss scowls at the dolls. “She might’ve? I don’t really remember.”

 “Oh, I don’t think you would have forgotten something like this,” Peeta retorts.

 “I… well, yeah, this is definitely weird, but I don’t think we can call it haunted, or otherworldly.”

 “What the hell else would you call it?”

 “Any number of perfectly reasonable and logical things, Peeta. Mrs. Undersee likes weird, creepy dolls; what more can you say?”

 “Don’t call them weird and creepy.” He sets a finger against her lips. “I’ve read about haunted dolls. If you’re not respectful, they might curse you.”

 She rolls her eyes, but nods all the same. He doesn’t take his eyes off hers as he lowers his finger and shoves his hands in his pockets.

 He turns back to the dolls, and clears his throat. “Uh, we mean no harm or anything. It’s just… you’ve kind of been terrifying my friend and her parents, and we’d like you to please stop. Please.”

 Katniss whispers, “You already said please.”

 “Can’t hurt to say it twice.”

 “Did you bring the, uh… the thing? You know, the thing that reads the waves or whatever it was?”

 He shoots her a dour look. “You mean the EMF?”

 “Yeah, that. Do you have it?”

 “No, I don’t.” He sighs. “It would have been in the pack with the motion sensors, so it’s still downstairs.”

 “Spirit box?”

 “In the pack, too.”

 She surveys him strangely, arms crossed over her chest. “You really didn’t come prepared, did you?”

 “I was prepared! I just… didn’t think I’d be accosted in the very first hallway I went into.”

 She snorts. “Yeah, well, maybe next time you’ll think —” She stops, freezes, eyes riveted on something Peeta can’t see. His heart thumps harder and louder than he’s ever felt before.

 “Uh, Katniss? Is something wrong.”

 “Peeta,” she says, deadpan.

 “What?”

 “Look over there, in the gap between the cabinet and the desk. See that?”

 He does see that. He backs up so hard he’s going to have a massive bruise on his ass from the vanity he’s just about knocked over. “Holy shi — Are those… are those eyes?”

 “Yeah, they’re eyes. You wanna know what kind of eyes?” She picks up a hairbrush from the vanity stand next to them and hurls it at the gap.

 “Goddamn raccoon eyes, Peeta,” she says as the small pack of raccoons scatter. “There’s probably holes in the drywall or something, hence your scratchy whispers.”

 “I… oh.”

 “Yeah, oh. Raccoons, Peeta. Ninety-five percent of the time, it’s probably rats or raccoons.”

 “It wasn’t rats or raccoons in that place in District 10.”

 “That… was an outlier of a house, I’ll give you that, but it was probably still just people. Very strange, very creepy people.” She nudges him gently with her elbow and cocks her head to the door. “Come on, we should try and see if we can find the holes they were coming in through.”

 “You want to do home repairs?”

 “Hey, we promised Madge an exorcism, didn’t we? This is just a different kind of exorcism.”

 She hooks her arm in his, and they leave the doll room together. A sound like bye follows them out, but this time he can ignore it. Raccoons. Obviously.

 “Why do you come with me to these things?” he asks when they reach the bottom of the stairs.

 “Peeta,” she says seriously. “Know that I say this with all the love in my heart… you would die if I didn’t come with you.”

 “If I did die, I would so mercilessly haunt your ass.”

 She pats his arm, shakes her head. “No, you wouldn’t, Peeta. Ghosts aren’t real.”

[ransomedrogue]

okay so I finally made one of these to participate in the rewatch. just figuring it all out now that fic is finally ready to post. hopefully there will be a scene per episode but no promises!

###

Tales of Woe - Scenes from S1

1.1

She had finally had enough.

After dozens of questions and just one response, the nameless woman tore the sensors off her fingers and called the whole thing to a halt. She didn't know anything, yet she knew that this was pointless; and that she was done being a specimen, letting these people do whatever they wanted to her.

"I want to speak to someone in charge," she stated once more, more fiercely this time.

She felt better just having made the demand. And at least it made something happen; the man with the machine left and she was alone for awhile, her head full of the same sorts of questions the man had just asked.

Who was she?

What had happened to her?

Why the tattoos?

But she didn't have any answers other than the one she'd offered the man with the machine. Her mind was still a complete blank and the stark interrogation room just made the woman feel small and anxious about everything she didn't know.

She was clearly under suspicion but she didn't think she'd done anything wrong. Her only memories were a blur of being naked and yelled at, shaking under a thousand lights. Then there was the onslaught of tests, being dragged around like a rag doll as her brain tried to catch up to what was going on.

Finally, the door opened again and she looked up to see a different man walk in. This agent was bearded and a bit stern looking, but when he got closer she thought his blue eyes seemed sympathetic. Yet she still wondered what he was going to demand of her, if he was going to be as pointless as the last guy.

"I'm Special Agent Kurt Weller," he said. "I'm the lead agent on your case."

The memory-less woman felt a flash of satisfaction, realizing that her demand had been met. But that was quickly washed away by the flood of questions rushing through her mind.

She asked him the most important ones - if they knew what was going on, who she was. But, frustratingly, the agent didn't have any answers for her. Instead, he told her that they hadn't been able to identify her through any of the usual means, despite all the testing they had done.

The woman was disappointed but not surprised. Somehow she'd known that it wouldn't be that easy - someone had gone to a lot of trouble to do this to her.

She was surprised though, when the agent asked her if she recognized him. Especially because he seemed a little uncomfortable with the question himself; sounding as if he was unsure how to even ask it.

To her, the question was absurd. Hadn't she made it clear that she didn't know anything or anyone?

"I don't even recognize me," she replied.

That's when he dropped the first real bomb in her relatively short memory, causing a seismic shift in her understanding of the situation. Telling her that he might somehow be familiar to her, even though he didn't know her. Because his name was tattooed in large print across her back.

Even without much context or experience, she'd come to understand that the tattoos which covered her were not at all normal and a major part of whatever was happening to her. But all of the ones she'd examined were just random patterns and pictures. Nothing nearly as obvious as the huge letters stamped across her back.

The woman started to panic, questions and anxiety flooding through her. How could it be that she knew him well enough to have his name tattooed on her and he didn't know her at all?

But the agent had asked her to try to find some familiarity in him and he had asked kindly, without making it a demand. Which, at least, was different than anything that had happened since she woke up in a bag, without a single memory in her head.

She reached out cautiously, putting one hand on his, then lifting the other to his stubbled cheek. The idea of touching someone else, instead of being the one touched - even that was something new. The agent looked uncomfortable with the situation but let her continue her exploration of his features until her fingers drifted over his eyebrow and he finally flinched.

Disappointingly, her hands didn't know him anymore than her mind did. There was nothing but a total blank as he pulled her hand away, looking a bit embarrassed at having just been examined so intimately.

"Anything?" he asked.

She told him no and could tell that he wasn't surprised. Though he did still look a little flustered at what had passed between them and switched straight into Agent-mode when she asked what would happen to her next.

He said something about releasing photos of her to the media to try and gather tips about who she could be. Which was, even to her, pretty obviously the next step in trying to figure out her identity.

But she was starting to understand that there weren't likely to be any easy answers. Clearly, the agents weren't going to quickly identify her and bring her home to her family. Which then made her wonder what was going to happen to her now that the FBI finally seemed done with their questions. How long was she going to be stuck in that sterile room?

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean what happens right now? I don't have anywhere to go."

The agent looked surprised at her question, as if just realizing her situation. The nameless woman tried not to feel so vulnerable, even though she was completely reliant on people with unknown intentions. It was hard to hold it together though when she was so alone and adrift, without a single memory to tether herself to. Lost and detached from anything; born into a world of people that only seemed to see her as a dangerous commodity.

Suddenly she felt completely drained, both physically and emotionally exhausted from her nightmarish experience. She wanted to curl into a corner of the cold metal room and shut her eyes until someone could help her, tell her who she was. But she was at the mercy of this agent, with no idea what she was allowed to do in this strange existence.

Agent Weller gave her a worried look, as if he could feel her need bleeding through her words. Then he pulled out his phone and started sending typing some messages, groaning to himself as he received a response he clearly didn't like.

"We're working on finding you a place to stay but it's not going to be ready for another hour or two. I'm sorry ma'am, but you'll have to wait here until it's all set up."

The woman shuddered, hating the thought of being stuck in that room alone with her thoughts for another minute, let alone two hours. Her mind was a swirl of endless questions, the kind that led straight into despair. She wondered how to tell the agent that she was going to lose it if he left her there but then felt pathetic just thinking about admitting it.

The woman started to panic as she realized again how little control she had over her situation. The agent could leave her in that room for as long as he wanted to - she had no reason to trust what he said. Even though she wanted to believe he would help her, she'd also been quite irritated by the way the FBI had treated thus far.

But just as her thoughts began to spiral out of control, Agent Weller surprised her by reaching over and taking her hand in his. In fact, the agent seemed equally befuddled with his own action, frowning down at their enjoined hands before looking up at her in concern.

His next words were a miracle though, as if he were reading her thoughts. For the first time in her short memory she actually felt seen, despite all the previous examinations.

"Hey. Do you want to get out of here?"

Maybe she hadn't recognized him, maybe she never would. But he had understood her need and she was immensely grateful for that.

She needed something to hold onto. And maybe, just maybe, that something was the stern-but-gentle agent who was still nervously squeezing her hand.

###

His Jane Doe was about to lose it.

Even without knowing her at all, Agent Weller could easily see the anxiety take over her body after he told her about the delay in finding her accommodations. Which made a lot of sense as soon as he realized how long she'd already been in rooms just like that one, getting bombarded with tests and questions that she had no answers for. Not to mention the situation she found herself in - alone in an unfamiliar world with no memories or sense of self.

What didn't make any sense was the way Weller automatically reached for the mystery woman's hand, curling her fingers into his palm in an attempt to settle her. Despite her physical examination of him, there was no reason to think she would invite his touch. Also, it was most definitely not amongst his usual tactics. On the contrary, Weller was normally quite reserved with his manners, careful to maintain appropriate contact in all of his interactions, especially when it came to gorgeous victims in his cases.

But she was panicking and looked like she was about to crumble into herself. The terrified look on her face was breaking his heart and Weller suddenly realized that he'd just condemned her to more hours in that sterile room, with the intense lighting and distinct air of criminality. No wonder she looked so on edge, about to teeter into an emotional abyss.

Shit, he thought. He should have considered her prior experience before telling her she had to remain in interrogation like a prisoner. Not that there were a lot of options for what to do with her until the safe house was cleaned and ready. But he had to do something to resolve her obvious anxiety. Even if it meant breaking his usual rules.

"Hey. Do you want to get out of here?" he asked, the thought tumbling out of his mouth before it was even fully formed.

But any regrets about his impromptu offer were instantly pushed aside by the spark of hope his words elicited from the woman's troubled green eyes. She looked at him with a heady mixture of surprise and relief that filled his chest with sugary satisfaction.

"Where would we go?" she asked, still wary but already visibly calmer from his suggestion.

Damn, he hadn't exactly thought that far yet.

There certainly wasn't protocol for a situation like that, so Weller just did his best to think about what he would want after being cooped up in windowless rooms for an entire day.

"Outside?" he suggested. "We could go for a walk."

Her eyes flickered nervously again, then brightened with hope as she nodded shyly.

Weller felt extremely pleased with himself, far more than he should have been, as he led the tattooed woman out of the interrogation room and into the elevator. He really should have been formulating a good excuse for what he was doing but instead Weller just texted Mayfair a brief update that did not explain why he was personally escorting their asset outside the building until her safe house was ready.

The benefit of having a superior that trusts you, he thought wryly.

But then, more soberly, Weller reminded himself that he only held that trust because he never did stuff like that. He was always sure to play within the rules and, therefore, his word held a lot of weight with Mayfair.

Again he asked himself what the hell he was thinking. He'd known this woman for less than a half hour and his usual rock solid professional boundaries were already wavering.

But there she was, standing rigidly beside him in the elevator, chewing her lower lip nervously. Weller tried to convince himself that it was all just because she'd needed help and he was wired to protect. Though he'd done the job long enough to know that his near instantaneous attachment to this victim was more than that, something he'd never experienced before.

Inappropriate conduct Weller, he silently scolded himself, in a mock military academy tone.

But then the elevator reached the ground floor and Weller glanced over at the nameless woman, who was still obviously tense, her eyes flickering up at him hopefully. Quickly he shrugged off the mental reprimand; when he looked at her, there was no doubt in his mind that he was doing the right thing, even if it wasn't exactly consistent with protocol.

His thought was further confirmed as they approached the exit and she became visibly calmer, even offering him a tentative smile as he led her out the door, his arm hovering protectively behind her back. Then, when they stepped outside the building, she turned her eyes towards the street and took a deep breath in, wrinkling her nose a little at the odorous city air.

Weller grinned at the mixture of joy and relief on the woman's face as she stared wide-eyed at her surroundings; first taking in all the people on the street before looking up at the skyscrapers in awe. He let her just stand there and take it all in for a moment before gently directing her towards the closest green space he could think of, a small park in amongst the concrete jungle of lower Manhattan.

It was quiet in the park, as quiet as his Jane Doe. She hadn't said a word since they left the NYO, though her body language had gradually loosened up during the walk. Weller wondered what she was thinking about but held himself back from asking. He wanted to give her a chance to decompress after everything she'd just been through, not make her feel pressured to talk.

They reached the end of the grassy area and, again, he wasn't sure what to do. There was still a lot of time to kill before they needed to be back at the NYO.

"Do you want to sit? Or keep walking?" he asked.

It was just a simple question, but Weller hoped that offering her a choice would give her a small sense of control.

He watched her think for a moment, tilt her head just so. It was almost impossible not to stare at the bird tattoo on her neck, watch the way it moved with her skin.

Having your whole body tattooed against your will was such an invasion he couldn't even begin to imagine how she felt about it. But Weller also couldn't help thinking about how aesthetically eye-catching some of was.

AKA, fucking hot.

The thought came to him completely unbidden, forcing Weller to take his eyes off her skin as he chastised himself strongly. Learning to stay emotionally detached from victims in his cases was one of the first things he'd had to figure out as a rookie agent. Nowadays, he didn't have problems with that anymore, except in cases involving little girls. But the woman beside him was making his chest ache with her innocent vulnerability and all Kurt could do was tell himself to calm the hell down and keep things professional.

"Let's walk," she finally answered, shivering a little as the sun dropped behind a building.

Weller realized that he'd brought her out in just a tank top and immediately felt like a total idiot. He hadn't thought to grab her a jacket because he'd already been flustered with his own actions and it had been warm out when they left the NYO.

Plus, it was odd having to dress an adult, he figured. Though he still felt negligent for not having thought of it earlier.

Taking off his suit jacket, Weller draped it over the woman's bare shoulders and she flashed him another thankful look. Idly, he wondered if she appreciated more than just the warmth of his coat - if she'd been feeling too exposed in just her tattooed skin. Especially after already having been scrutinized for hours by strangers.

They continued walking away from the park and Weller kept having to remind himself not to stare. But now it wasn't the tattoos that kept tugging at his eye; he just felt drawn to the woman in a way he couldn't explain.

Obviously there was the mystery of his name in large letters on her back. That would be intriguing in any circumstance. But it was more than that - for instance, he was out walking with her instead of tending to all the things he should have been doing. Which was definitely not usual Kurt Weller behaviour. He was known as a workaholic for a reason and set the example for his team to follow. So he should be at his desk, finishing up the paperwork for that raid in Kentucky and then catching up on this tattoo case.

And yet, there he was, strolling the streets of lower Manhattan with a memoryless stranger and all Weller was sure of anymore was that he needed to protect her. He had no idea what had happened to her, what her future held. But he was going to figure it out and help her not look so lost.

Walking in silence seemed to help calm her so they kept going until they were almost at the water, at the tip of Manhattan. Then, when they couldn't walk any further, they stopped, looking out over the bay.

Weller looked at his Jane Doe as she stood there, seeming adrift in her thoughts. Which wasn't surprising of course. She had to have so much going on in her mind, all that wondering about who she was and why this was happening to her. And even though he felt like he should say something to break the quiet, Weller couldn't think of anything that didn't sound stupid or insensitive to what she was going through.

While he was still searching for the right words, she turned to him, her expression suddenly anxious again. Then an onslaught of questions poured out of her like an emotional dam in her had finally been broken.

"What if I never find out who I am? Why this happened to me?" she asked.

"What if I never remember anything? And I'm just stuck with these tattoos and no life and no one who knows me? What am I going to do?

She was getting visibly agitated again, biting down hard on her lower lip. Her eyes were wide and scared, begging him for an answer.

Weller had the oddest instinct to wrap his arms around her from behind, hold her until she calmed. But of course he didn't actually do that, would never behave that way with a complete stranger.

Briefly his mind flashed back to the interrogation room, the way he'd automatically taken her hand to help settle her panic. Flushing with embarrassment at his breach of etiquette and the tingle he felt even thinking back to it, Kurt reminded himself that she was the vulnerable victim of a crime and he had to be extremely careful not to abuse his position of power.

Still, he couldn't help but stand right up beside her, close enough that her shoulder touched up against his. Weller told himself it was just to ground her with some human contact and remind her that he was there with her. Yet immediately he again found himself yearning to put his arm around her, and again he had to vehemently tell himself no. And then, somehow, as if he had no control over what was happening, his arm was draped around her shoulders, completely disregarding everything in his usual moral code.

She tensed at his touch and Weller cursed himself silently for whatever had possessed him to do it. But when he started to take his arm away, she moved even closer and leaned up against him.

"No, please don't," she said.

Well that sold it. Weller replaced his arm on her shoulders, wrapping his hand around her right bicep. He noticed that she was strong, seemingly made of muscle, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze on the arm. Which won him an upward look and a timid grin that jabbed at his heart.

She still looked so lost and he didn't know what he could say to make anything better for her. But Weller knew that he had to at least try and alleviate her worries, make some sort of effort to show her how much he wanted to help. So he did his best to gather up some words, hoping that they didn't sound too trite.

"I know you feel very alone and scared about what's happening to you. But you're not alone, I'm here to help you. And I don't have any answers for you yet but I promise, if there's any way out there to figure out who you are, my team will find it."

His attempt at comfort was met with a furrowed brow and skeptical eyes. She obviously didn't completely believe him, yet she seemed content to stand much too close and Weller found himself rubbing her arm absently as she continued to study him carefully.

"You trust your team a lot," she finally said, in an unreadable tone.

"They're the best," Weller replied, with full confidence.

"Shouldn't you be with them? Figuring this all out?"

Weller froze. She was right, of course. He should be at the NYO, working on her case. Under no circumstance was his current behaviour appropriate.

Instantly he felt called out; completely exposed. The woman was looking at him with an unreadable expression, somewhere between a frown and a smirk. Part of him thought she was poking fun at him while the other part thought she was being seriously critical about his dedication to solving her case.

He was still speechless and trying to come up with a suitable answer when she surprised him yet again by edging further into him and tentatively resting her head against his shoulder.

"Don't look so worried. I was just kidding," she said.

"I know you didn't have to take me out here, I'm sure you have a million things to do. But thank you, this is exactly what I needed."

The look of gratefulness on her face was Kurt Weller fuel. He was a fixer; and at that moment there was absolutely nothing else he wanted to fix.

So, even if he hadn't found out anything about who she was, at least she was standing by the waterside, joking with him and no longer looking so terrified. In that way, he'd already won the day.

"I know I'm just another stranger but if there's anything you need I'm here for you," he said.

Again she didn't say anything for awhile, but seemed happy to just stand there, leaning against him. Then, just as he thought that she was done talking, she looked up at him with serious eyes.

"You're not a stranger. You're the lead agent on my case," she said thoughtfully.

"And we went for a walk together the day we met."

That earned her a full on grin, one that Kurt didn't see coming at at all. The firecracker that erupted in his chest from her comment was especially very unlike himself, far more emotional than he was used to feeling.

Which again told him that the situation was off, that he was acting bizarrely. But what was worse, he didn't care. Despite everything, Weller looked down at the woman in his arms and knew that he was exactly where he needed to be.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 165 prt2

Keith took a long and shaky breath, gripping the counter as he slowly released it. The world didn’t deserve Mami and her love

“I miss her. Lance took me to her grave. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know what to say to dad”

“He adored you. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel like it. You can be there and see his grave, or you can be there and remember he always loved you”

“I don’t really remember him and what I think I remember I don’t know if it’s real or if I’ve tricked myself into believing that my thoughts are memories”

“He loved you. When you were a baby, he’d spend hours cradling you. You’d cry and cry when he wasn’t. There’s no particular way you have to feel about things. You won’t know how you feel until you’re standing in front his grave”

“Mum, if you knew... why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I did think to include it in the letter I wrote to you, but... maybe selfishly I wanted you to ask me to go with you to see him. I don’t know if I have the courage to go alone”

Keith wrapped his arms around himself. Krolia wanted to go with him. Keith couldn’t quite remember who was doing what and coming for the trip with him

“Shiro’s supposed to be coming. I can’t ask him to come when he should be with Curtis. I’m worried about Lance, too. His pregnancy is stable right now. I’m scared we’ll be too far from help if something happens”

“Then why don’t you postpone it?”

Keith didn’t want to. Not after waiting years, but what was the point of taking his lover to meet his father if Lance couldn’t be there. The same went for Shiro, he couldn’t introduce his brother if his brother wasn’t there

“I’ve waited years to find his grave. I don’t even remember the place we grew up, other than dad’s shack. Do you know if it’s still standing?”

“I own the deed to the land, I brought it when... your father passed, but no. I haven’t been there in some time”

Krolia wanted him to ask her, but Keith couldn’t ask until he knew what was going to happen with his brother. He felt he still needed that buffer between him and his mother, lest they get into an argument and stop talking for another 20ish years

“I’m only going to work this out talking to Shiro”

“That’s what I’ve been saying. Have a good talk and a think. There’s still hours until morning”

“Yeah. Night, mum”

“Night, Keith”

*

Keith felt foolish as he stood at the doorway to the living room and called out to Shiro that he wanted to talk in a whisper yell. Of course his mother was right. Shiro was awake, his brother letting out a muffled curse as he kicked what Keith assumed to be the coffee table trying to sneak out the room. Following him out to the back door, the motion sensor flicked on, blinding both of them momentarily. The light spilling from the kitchen barely registered in the darkness of the rest house.

Keith regretted not bring his phone, the chances of cow crap too high to risk sitting in the grass, leaving them to sit on the paving which really wasn’t the same

“Keith?”

Dropping his head against his brother’s shoulder, the cold was already seeping through his underwear and Lance’s robe

“I want to help and I don’t know how”

“Help with what, kiddo?”

“Curtis. I know he isn’t okay. I know he’s getting worse. I’m worried about you and I want to help, but I don’t know how”

“I don’t know how to help Curtis either”

The omission by his brother hung in the air. Keith knew that feeling sucked hard. Lance suffered so much and he didn’t know if he really did make things better the way Lance claimed he did

“We don’t want to postpone getting the demon out of him”

Shiro snarked, taking the words wrong

“I know he gave you a scare, but...”

“That’s not it. I mean, yeah, he did, but for his sake I want to get this demon out of him already. He must be going through so much right now. And you. I know... you went through a lot with me, stuff I didn’t even realise. I want you to get your happy ending too, you know?”

Wrapping his arm around him, Shiro rested his head on Keith’s as he got comfortable

“Who said you could go grow up on me like this?”

“Pretty sure you’re to blame”

“I wouldn’t say it was me”

“I would. That’s why I want to help. Lance wants to help too. Mum called Coran today, I think she told him we should summon out the demon as soon as possible... but he’s your boyfriend. I don’t know what you’re going through”

“Keith, I think you’re just about the only person who does. Today’s the second time he’s been violent. The first time he threw a glass across the apartment when I asked him why the tap was running. I sure know how to pick them”

“You love Curtis. He loves you too. A lot of things Lance said made sense to me. About maybe the demon has it’s own ego. It’s sharing a body with Curtis and the strain has to be next level on both of them. What can we do to help?”

Keith felt something wet on his scalp. It took him a long moment and a half to click. Oh... Shiro was crying. His brother’s body barely shook, the shivers running through him easily mistaken for shivering in the cold

“You’re my brother, and my family. Whatever you need, I want to be here for you. Expect if you need to practice your awful jokes because they’re awful, you can borrow Lance for that”

“I like to think I’m hilarious”

“I know you do. What do we do now? Lance is totally up for a little lie if you need some time or some help”

“I can’t run from this”

“It’s not running, it’s relying on us. None of want Curtis feeling bad for things he can’t control”

“We were supposed to be postponing the summoning to see your dad”

“I know, and I don’t want to not go see him now I know where he is. I also want my brother there with me”

“That means delaying either the summoning or the trip”

“Maybe... we should go after the summoning? Take Curtis with us and give him a few days to get used to everything?”

“Coran needs to keep him for observation. We don’t know what messing with his soul will do. For all the shit we’ve hunted, this is still out there. Talking about demons and souls”

“Technically Coran and Allura are both fae which means they’re technically demons...”

Both brothers fell silent as they considered that fact. Keith knew Coran was powerful as fuck. Humanity was lucky to have him on their side. The same went with Allura. She could be scary as hell when she was angry. Shiro hugged him tighter

“I don’t know. I don’t know how Lance can be so calm after today. I know Curtis didn’t trip but he still tried to cover for him. Even after what happened to the nursery wall”

“With the amount of time Lance has tripped on the stairs, he’s a total pro at fixing the walls”

“I don’t know if you’re bragging or if you wish Lance wasn’t quite so clumsy”

“I thought it was the glasses but he’s just as clumsy without them. It’s like he enjoys randomly attacking things with his head”

“He gets that from you. How’s your head feeling?”

“Sore. You’d think it’d be harder after all the times I got hit there”

“If it’s still sore we should probably have Coran check you out”

“Nah, it’ll be fine. We still haven’t decided what to do”

“I was looking forward to seeing the nursery painted”

So was Keith. Once the paint was up they could work on the furniture. Once the furniture was together that’d be a huge weight off Lance’s mind. He’d clear forgotten about his brother coming to help in the wake of Lance’s sisters popping up

“You know... if you’re awake and I’m awake... we could finish that competition”

“You mean the one where I totally won for the most paint on the wall? It’s the middle of the night”

“And? I’m pretty sure Lance would have done all his home repairs whenever the fuck he felt like it”

“You want to paint the nursery?”

Keith didn’t know what to do. Shiro was crying, and he couldn’t fix that pain for him. Lance had been right though, though it wasn’t that unusual and his advice directed towards Curtis. Shiro also needed to see that a broken wall could be fixed and that in the scheme of things it wasn’t something worth tears over. While Lance had wanted to do the nursery together, he doubted his boyfriend would mind terribly if they finished the job they’d started that morning

“Nah, I want to finish kicking your old arse”

“My old arse? Says the man dating a vampire”

“Lance is timeless. Plus, he’s said it before and I think it’s kind of maybe true, that he feels some of his mental growth was stunted by turning so young. Like, the only old man thing about him is he love of lawnmowers and evenly cut grass”

“He does love lawn. How does he feel about bush?”

Keith shoved Shiro back playfully

“That’s... no! Shiro, no”

Shiro chuckled

“It was begging to be said”

“No, it really wasn’t. God, you’re making me think about that pick up line”

“Which one?”

There was only one he could think of off the top of his head

“Fallen over a stump lately? How about a root?”

“No thanks. I’m taken”

Keith realised he’d walked right into that one, groaning at his brother. Why did he do this to himself? Why did Shiro have to be so damn weird?

[toysoldiers-rwby]

[CS] 6. Conflict

Cutting Strings

Characters: Team APCX, Winter Word Count: 7k

Somethings never change. Even if it’s new to Penny.

Read on Ao3

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  Error: Enemy Unknown  

Neon’s frustrated voice rang around the Gym. “Reese! She closed shop to help you and Nadir study!”  

“Yeah but Aro can be really scary!” Reese argued. “We still have like two weeks till Haven officially starts…”  

Penny slowly tunned their voices out. Ciel and Penny arrived 30 minutes ago. May was there again and she challenged Ciel to a sparring match. Ciel declined, her shift was about to start but Neon begged her for the hours. Neon’s reasoning that training with a Huntress was more valuable than lien convinced Ciel.  

Penny joined their warm-ups to burn some excess energy her upset Aura was generating. It helped a little but it would take a real fight to exhaust her. Then she spent five minutes of watching the Huntress play around with the officer-in-training and an unknown amount of time slumped against the table drawing aimless shapes on the wood as little Billy tried to ram into her finger.  

Another discovery Penny had made was that she needed a routine. Previously her days was scheduled to optimize both her father and Ironwood’s time. But now that she was free to explore Atlas- and Mantle as long as Ironwood doesn’t know, she had to make her own schedule. This past week she’d work on Billy, the now fully repaired miniature robotic goat with limited functionality! At night she’d visit Ciel and they’d relax at the Officer’s Gym.  

But tonight was a little different. Xanthic had finished her assignment from Ironwood… Then Winter escorted her back to her quarters. Four hours ahead of routine. She didn’t argue or fight, just stared at Winter and Penny…  

“Oh!” Penny gasped. Billy had determined her nose as new challenger and rammed into her. She giggled and picked him up, “Alright, Billy. It’s bed time.” She said. Pushing aside the cover on his back she pressed the sleep button. Billy’s charge slowed to a trot and eventually a complete stop. His head shook, metal ears stiff in the air when they should be flopping around. Tinny rubber hooves dug into Penny’s hand so lightly her sensors didn’t recognize it.  

Winter didn’t need to isolate Xanthic. They could have worked on this little robot together. She wanted to have it updated to perform simple tricks and vocal commands. Penny was curious to see her Father and Aro’s reaction.  

“That’s so cute I think I have cavities,” May muttered. She grunted as Ciel finally got a punch in. “You little!” May practically growled. She feinted a jab then dove in a low tackle. Ciel’s back slammed into the mat as her legs were pulled out from under her. Once taken to the mat, Ciel was quickly put in a lock and forced to tap out.  

Ciel lay there, exhausted and breathing hard while May barely broke a sweat and effortlessly jumped to her feet. “Huntresses are insane…”  

“We are superheroes!” May said with a large smile. It faltered slightly when Penny couldn’t match that energy. “Something biting at you Penn?” Penny tilted her head and looked around. Her false skin wasn’t sensitive so if something was biting her she didn’t feel or see it. May laughed and shook her head. “What’s on your mind? You’ve been acting sad all evening…” Her voice drifted off, posture completely slacking. She thickly swallowed and that definitely triggered Penny’s interest.  

Before Penny could turn around a pale green hair flew past her. Aro stood a few feet from May. She was grinning, ears to excited to stay hidden and fluttering up and down. She had an excited bounce and tiny flaps of her arms-  

“Aro!” Penny’s mind nearly shorted. There might have been several warnings about velocity and weight but all that was registering was her friend was finally back. Her processors fired several simulations about how easier the week would have been if Aro was there to smooth conflicts or to infect her with her cheery attitude.  

“Hi Penn!” Aro yelled back, grunting as the women tackled her. They didn’t fall to the ground but floated long enough for Aro to get her footing again. Penny was hugged tight. That comforting feeling of pressure back in greater force. Penny giggled burying her face into her future teammate’s shoulder. She wanted to go back to the drinks with Winter and May or even the trails General started her with. She was built for the stress of combat not… whatever she was feeling righ tow. Aro set Penny down and looked at May again. Her grin was bigger, undeterred by May’s indifferent, almost glaring expression. “Hi.”  

“Salutations,” May drawled, voice dead and voice of any emotion. She crossed her arms and waited for Aro’s energy to calm a little. It had the opposite effect and she only squeezed Penny tighter. Penny giggled as Faunus ears tickled her fake ones. Apparently they were sensitive and sent a Morse code of sensation confusing her processors. May sighed at the cute display, “I’m still mad at you.”  

“I deserve it,” Aro said only a hint of seldom and guilt in her voice. “I know it’s not showing now- I really missed you.”  

A blush flashed across May’s face for a second. The Huntress groaned slapping her head. Then held her arms open and Aro jumped into them. Arms wrapped around her neck and face buried into the crook of her shoulder and neck.  

“I hate you sometimes.”  

“Sometimes I deserve it,” Aro said.  

Penny giggled from the side. If this was how they resolved their conflicts how did they end up fighting in the first place?  

“Ugh. Get a room,” Ciel groaned from the floor. Aro snorted. She separated from from May and threw her head back laughing. It shamelessly echoed around the basement.  

It was then she understood why May paused, so surprised. Aro wasn’t dressed in her boiler-suit, wasn’t covered in grease. Sweat, or Dust. Penny knew Aro own a successful weapon and Dust shop. But it was difficult to actually see her as a businesswomen.  

Her high class suit rivaled Winter’s casual outfits. Penny’s eyes were particularly drawn to the pin on her tie and collar. Aro’s dull eyes were framed by glasses… May caught her staring and smirked. Penny flustered, a surge of Aura generating too much heat. While she couldn’t blush Penny felt it the hot air rise to her face and she huffed out cloud of steam.  

Aro stomped on the floor, a bright glow of purple slowly levitating Ciel up. The student was floundering. Her legs kicked out wildly for footing only to be upside down. Penny wasn’t fond of the sensation either, so she quickly helped Ciel upright. Aro gently turned off the Dust. Ciel looked more disheveled by the gravity Dust than the sparing.  

“Never. Again.” The officer-in-training said, as if the order would stick with the anarchist.  

“No promises,” Aro sang. She looked at May with a guilty and open expression. “I was waiting for Xanthic’s okay to come back.” May’s quick temper flared again. A fierce scowl and a trembling fist instantly set Penny on alert. She took a deep breath. She’s spent more time with Ciel and May these past few days and trusted that peaceful experience rather than her sensitive protocols. It was a little slow, but May slowly relaxed and nodded at Aro to continue. “A mutual contact told me Xanthic disappeared.”  

Penny frowned. That was… true? She pushed her processors trying to analysis the situation from a different perspective. It was difficult, trying to think of false information and incorrect functions. Chances were high only the Ace-Ops and Winter knew about Xanthic’s whereabouts. The hacker was taken by surprised, so she couldn’t call for help. Did she even have anyone that would help her?  

May frowned and crossed her arms. Penny didn’t know if she was pleased or alerted, that indifferent mask was on her face again. She liked the smile better.  

“Since when were you and Xanthic talking?”  

Aro made sure to hold eye contact with May. Her dull eyes were sincere… and not glowing! Her semblance was off! Aro’s entire energy seemed a little muted but much more earnest, “Almost two weeks. Since she found out Ironwood is trying to puppet us.” May closed her eyes, fighting off another outburst. She took a deep breath. Penny added a reminder to ask Aro about her history with Xanthic. Judging from May’s expression it wasn’t good.  

“I want to punch you in the face.”  

Aro didn’t even flinch at that but Penny did. Was… this common? Is this how friends behaved? “I deserve it, but we need to find Xanthic first.” May visibly blanch and deflate.  

“I know her current location,” Penny said. Her voice sounded too seldom but. She was oddly worried about a women that was far too aggressive. Somewhere deep in her programming told Penny it didn’t matter. “She’s under house arrest at the my father’s Facility. Are we helping her escape?” She asked quietly.  

“Depends,” May said quickly and harshly, “Does she really need saving?”  

“I think so,” Penny said. She hadn’t notice it at first because Xanthic was working but General Ironwood had placed her in near complete isolation. Alone, no socialization, no freedom… “Kidnapping. Isolation. Forced Labor. Forgery.” She listed, flinching at each word. She was sure General Ironwood had a good reason, but was also understanding Xanthic’s precautions. May and Aro didn’t seem surprised at the list but Ciel was deeply skeptical and glared harder at every word.  

“Kidnapping. Don’t you mean arrested?” Ciel asked. “She was guilty of hacking Atlas’ system!”  

“Then she would be in prison, not a military research facility.” Penny reasoned. They had to return Xanthic’s home to bring necessities Atlas provided in prisons. She still didn’t know if she enjoyed Xanthic’s company but it often lead to Winter assisting her. Seeing her almost made the fights between them worth it. “Ms. Xanthic is crass, aggressive, and enjoys challenging authority.” Ciel stared hard while May and Aro nodded. They both looked like they wanted to add more but refrained from doing so. “She was oddly compliant and docile with Winter today.”  

Aro popped her lip, brows raised high. “Isolation… with Win?” She asked slowly. She looked at May with a pleading stare, “You know Xan doesn’t handle both of those things well.”  

“If she doesn’t want to be lonely she should try being nice!” May said. Aro snapped her jaw shut. Her semblance must be active again because the usual bright blue glow returned, pupils flaring white. “I like you better with Focus off.”  

“And I’d like your support.” Aro snipped back. “You don’t need to help but I’m not letting Ironwood get away with this.”  

“Breaks people!” Ciel yelled. "We are not infiltrating a military facility."  

Aro smirked arms crossed in a way that strained her suit across her large arms and shoulders. “Infiltrate? You do realize you’re talking to a businesswomen.” She gestured to her suit. This time Penny caught May admiring it, a bit reluctantly. The Huntress huffed, trying to act frustrated rather than flustered. Penny giggled at the bravado.  

They took the elevator up to the roof where Aro had parked her airship. Two more Huntresses sat atop of it and one jumped down when they saw the group.  

“Salutation!” Penny didn’t instantly recognize the voice so she wasn’t Atlesian Military. The distinctive Faunus ears and excellent record identified her as Fiona Thyme. She grinned running up to Penny and shoving May aside even though she had her arms open for a hug. Her partner Robyn Hill, laughed so hard she almost fell off the airship on her descent. Fiona grabbed Penny’s hand and shook it, “I’m Fiona, it’s a pleasure to finally met you!” She said. “Aro and May are constantly talking about you.”  

Penny gave Aro a curious glance and she simply raised a brow. Her eyes flickered before she talked in a voice that was too smooth and perfect, “She’s lying.” The liar said. Penny and Fiona glanced at each other a knowing look and shared a giggle.  

“It is a pleasure to meet you too!” Penny grinned, “I have to admit it’s nice not having to look up so much…” Ciel and Fiona was around her height. Aro was surprisingly short when she stood next to May and Winter. It was her horns brought them closer to height.  

“Right?! These assholes should treat us to a good chiropractor.” Fiona covered her mouth as if she was whispering, but Penny was sure she purposely increased her volume.  

“You brat!” May grumbled picking Fiona up and throwing tiny Huntress over her shoulder. Fiona only laughed and playfully tried to break free. Ciel looked hesitant but followed Penny into their future teammates’ transport. The inside looked like a luxury cruiser, two sofas pointed at an entertainment system with a hard-light table disappearing from the center. The rather happy group of huntresses already took a sofa catching up on this week’s events.  

“Someone actually tried to mug us in Vacuo,” Robyn said. “Aro accidentally drew blood and then fainted on the spot!”  

May rolled her eyes, “Dressed like that and in this airship? I’m surprised you didn’t get shot down.”  

“With what artillery?” Fiona asked.  

Ciel made her way to the front. She didn’t take a seat on the sofa but hovered at the cockpit door. Penny decided occupy the co-pilot seat next to her future-teammate.  

“You two are idiots.” Ciel said with a sigh. “You’re actually going to talk him into releasing a dangerous criminal?”  

“You sure you trust an idiot to fly an airship?” Aro said with a large grin up at her. Ciel frowned. She didn’t look nervous and didn’t look at the door. After a few seconds Aro finally lifted her personalized transport off the building.  

“Aro has one of the best records for nonmilitary pilots!” Penny informed. That seemed to eased Ciel but she didn’t sit down.  

The ride was short and easy, so Aro entertained herself by giving Ciel a brief overview of the console. It didn’t match any specs that Penny knew so she suspected she personally built it. As they finally reached the floating city Atlas Command tried directed Aro to dock at the Academy. The ships audio-to-text was instantanious and the hard-light words hovered above the dash. Aro weighed her options. But with one looked at Penny, she confidentely veered off course.  

“Actually I think Dr. Pietro is holding something important for me.” Aro said. May loudly gagged, then grunting in pain as two loud smacks stopped her.  

“M-Ms. Glade!” The military personal stuttered.  

“Very confidential,” Aro said drawling out the words with a grin. “I was his protégée, I still help every now and again. You know how it goes.”  

“General Ironwood-” Aro turned off the speech-to-text. Penny remembered where the volume was and turned that down for everyone else.  

Before Ciel could scold her, they finally sored above the smog and factory smoke. For a second, Ciel looked amazed. Then it was replaced by scowl. Penny spent enough time with her to recognize that analytical look. Her eyes darting from bright tower to hard-light banners and even the robots that waited patiently for their owners. Penny flinched.  

“Wow.” Ciel scoffed. “So much for hard-light Dust being rare. One percent of the excess funds here could help the hospitals and miners- Ugh.”  

“Welcome to the Atlas sucks club!” May cheered from the back. Penny frowned. Was it really that bad? “Hard to see the bullshit they are pulling from below.”  

Aro landed the ship on the roof and Penny’s Scroll granted the group access. Ciel tried to talk her way into staying on the ship but Aro and Penny convinced her not to. She would be alone, technically trespassing on Military property.  

“It’s best if you stay with me,” Aro said. Her tone was a little different. Leveled and practiced in a way that reminded Penny of Winter. Then her sensors picked up on something, or rather the lack of noise. Penny glanced at the back to see the Huntresses looking uneasy. Aro only smiled and laughed, “I’m a pretty good distraction.”  

“Hm. For the record I was kidnapped,” Ciel muttered.  

“Records Xanthic is able and willing to alter,” Penny reminded.  

When the elevator opened to the main floor, General Ironwood and a small entourage was awaiting for them. Specialist Winter stood, poised like a soldier but lacking any real conviction. She nearly broke rank when she saw Penny. Her eyes locked on to hers far too long and Penny could only smile back. She hoped it was comforting because it felt sad. Almost guilty. Vine Zeki and Marrow Armin stood behind her. Vine was the only real image of an Atlesian soldier, Marrow looked conflicted, tail almost between his legs.  

These operatives were ideal for crowd control.  

If a fight broke out, the battle would hinge on Marrow’s Stay and Ciel’s Clockwork, perhaps even Aro’s Dust abilities. He was a newest Ace-Ops member so statistics was still off, in theory he could Stay a group. But one of this size as well as three Huntresses would be a challenge. Penny would be able to fight off Winter’s summons- Penny shook her head. She should not be strategizing against the military.  

“Welcome back, Ms. Glade.” General Ironwood greeted. His tone was as cold and welcoming as the steel they stood on.  

Aro on the other hand kept her playful persona, “You didn’t even bring my favorites,” Aro said with a small pout. Once again her voice was too perfect, too smooth and at ease. Her eyes seemed to shine brighter, “Where’s Hare and Oak?”  

“Standby with Clover,” Ironwood said. He stood aside and waved his arms. A silent permission for the group to enter and an order to follow. Robyn and her team scowled but followed Aro’s lead. Flanking her, as if they were guards.  

Winter broke rank, strides placing her next to Penny. She didn’t speak, instead giving Penny a concerned look then a questioning glance at Ciel, who didn’t look very pleased. The possibility of a fight breaking out was… low. Ideally. The human variable was very unpreditable, and Aro seemed to be the largest unknown factor. Perhaps kidnapped wasn’t too extreme.  

“Congrats Marrow!” Aro said, “I had a bet with Joanna and May about when you’d get accepted into the Ace-Ops. I won.”  

“Thanks! I-” Marrow was cut off by a pointed look from Vine. “I’m not allowed to be polite apparently.” He said with a pout. His tail curled down and arms folded across his chest.  

"I don’t quite understand it either. I feel like the silence is meant to rile us up." Aro said. Despite her smooth and easy going voice the soldiers seemed to flinch. General Ironwood increased his pace and no one stopped any further conversation.  

Marrow excitedly told her about a search and destroy mission of a Geist that plagued a few SDC transports. It was particularly fond of taking over machinery. Aro talked about the crime rates in Vale, how Dust theft is increasing the demands for Dust. During her week long trip she made several contracts for the Abyssal Dust Company that would give her a small lead over the SDC.  

“Sounds like Vale needs help,” Marrow frowned.  

“They do,” Robyn agreed, “I still have a few connections from my cop days. We helped a few investigations and the scale of this thing could mean a huge gang war.”  

“But Vale isn’t known for those types of conflicts,” May muttered.  

“I still think they’re shipping it to Vacuo.” Fiona added.  

“Their history of violence and such little resources would mean they’d need outside help.” Vine agreed.  

Aro was right. The small talk did easy tensions a little. They were all Huntresses and Huntsmen after all, their duty was to protect the people, and they easily talked about Vale’s situation for the duration of the walk. But Ironwood only grew tense. His posture grew stiff, walking more like a march.  

Then Penny notice Winter fell back, nudging May’s arm and giving a questioning look. May’s hands and fingers moved, face quickly changing from expression to expression. Penny realized she was signing when Winter did a gesture and May repeated the motions a little slower. Whatever information they traded set Winter on edge. She widen her strides and walked even closer to Penny.  

She tried to trust Aro. Her future teammate was confident and unwavering but as she watched everyone’s behavior Penny was starting to realize something. She was helpless and useless. She couldn’t contribute anything to Xanthic’s freedom. She was created to help and protect, but this situation wasn’t a physical fight.  

It was beyond her control…  

They finally arrived at Ironwood’s office. Xanthic was seated there, surrounded by the other Ace-Ops members. The gravity Dust bindings were on, holding her wrist together. Physically, she was well. Mentally, Ashley Xanthic nearly catatonic. The way her eyes… Penny’s Aura clenched around her systems. There was nearly no power running through Xanthic’s circuits. It was dull almost-  

“You look dead,” Ciel blurted out, surprise and a near overwhelming tone in her voice.  

Immediately those cybernetic eyes flickered on. It was long enough for Xanthic to take in the rebellious group but it dimmed far too quickly for Penny’s comfort. She didn’t stand when Harriet tried prompting her too. “I’m here to haunt you. Boo.” Xanthic said. Again it didn’t hold any bite and Penny’s processors barely register it as Xan’s voice. She wasn’t happy that so many people came to support he. Just tired.  

Ciel sneered, “A failure even in death, I see.” That finally got a reaction even if it was a lazy middle finger. The bit of normality helped Penny calm down.  

“Clover,” Ironwood commanded.  

“We’ll be close,” Clover said with a nod. He lead Harriet and Elm out of the room. Elm gave May a concerned look. Harriet and Fiona lightly glared at each other until Robyn stepped between them. She completely ignored the Spec-Ops and kept her eyes on Ironwood. Vine and Marrow stepped forward, protecting their General’s flanks. Penny was grateful Winter stood by her side. Even it was to protect her from Aro or Robyn’s team.  

The General’s eyes landed on Ciel though he didn’t speak until the doors hissed shut. The officer-in-training tried not to fidget, but from her position Penny could see her tightly squeeze her hands hidden behind her back.  

“I’m surprised Ms. Soleil is with you.”  

“I found them bonding at the old Gym! Ciel’s credentials are some of the best in the Police Academy. Almost as good as Robyn’s,” Aro said with a smile that wasn’t perfect. It was a little smug and that made it completely vicious. Penny looked around the room, reading people’s reactions. Everyone stared hard at her, tense.  

Penny flinched a little. Aro wasn’t a threat, she was a friend trying to help their future teammate. She wanted to say it but the tension in the room caused her processors to stutter and falter.  

"I bet with training Ciel’s Clockwork would be more versatile that Stay." Marrow seemed to frown at that. “I also noticed Penny completely destroyed the highest score.” That another response from Xanthic. Her cybernetic eyes glowed softly. Aro signed at her and finally roused the hacker onto her feet. It seemed like she was trying to wake up.  

“… She did now?” General Ironwood asked with a raised brow. His eyes finally lifted off Ciel and to Penny. She tried not to flinch under it. She really did but couldn’t find the courage.He was General Ironwood, he helped her father create her and- Aro’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, body angle between them like a shield.  

“Without breaking a sweat, according to May. Which is… surprising,” Aro tapped her chin. She spared a glance at Penny then down to her hand. She had grasped Aro’s shirt out of reflex. Penny let go and took a step closer to Winter. She was relieved to feel a faint pressure push into her.  

Aro pulled out her Scroll- a new model. It was gold and green, compact with only one handle. It didn’t open, with a press of the button it projected schematics… of Floating Array. Penny’s eyes widen. That was hidden off the network, the data was only in this facility.  

An instances was immediately brought forward in Penny’s head. Caught red handed by General Ironwood himself.  

Xanthic didn’t just hack Atlas’ Network but she physically snuck in here! That finally seemed to bring the hacker back to her senses. The smirked was a little soft, her features hard lacking the sharp edge but it was slowly coming back. Your system locked me out before I could get any real information, Xanthic once said.  

Floating Array and Penny herself wasn’t on the record, according to Atlas documentation, they didn’t exist.  

The mechanic took a deep breath. Slowly that façade faded with the bright blue of Aro’s eyes. A nearly chilling deep sea green eyes challenged Ironwood.  

“I don’t remember giving the military access to my design or permission to turn it into a lethal weapon.” Aurora Glade, lied with her semblance off.  

Penny felt a heavy weight in her chest. In order to keep the lie Ironwood carefully constructed around her, he couldn’t risk denying that claim. Aro effectively stolen Atlesian Military Weapon in front his most loyal subordinates.  

When she spoke this time her voice was completely flat, mimic’s Ironwood’s tone when he gave out orders. “I’ve had some companies ask me if it was a personal weapon or commercial one…” She was threatening to publish the schematics.  

“What do you want Glade.” The only crack in his composure was his tone of voice. It was so tense it was nearly dead.  

Aro’s semblance immediately turned on, “Xanthic’s punishment adjusted to accommodate for her autophobia. Of course this wouldn’t affect our previous arrangement.” Except it does. If Ironwood doesn’t give Penny complete freedom to choose her final teammate, the schematics would be released to the public. While the only people capable of using it were in the room, it could easily be reverse enginered by other Kingdoms. And as Ciel one said, humans could be horrible to each other.  

“Of course.” Ironwood said. He pulled out his Scroll transferring permissions to Winter. Immediately the cuffs turned off. “I’ll entrust Schnee to work out the accommodations with you.”  

Aro grin was more of a show of teeth, combined with her golden horns and glowing eyes… For once Penny was skeptical of her first friend. Marrow tried to hide a small smile, his tail wagging so slightly as they left. No one talked as Winter escorted the rebellious group back to the roof. Penny didn’t quite understand the atmosphere. She thought she’d be more conflicted about this but she found herself scared for the others.  

Wasn’t this a victory? Somehow her civilian teammates twisted Ironwood’s lies and manipulations against him. It felt… Penny fidgeted and she took a deep breath of the cold Solitas air to cool her down. Her processors finally placed the emotion, finally realized how bad the consequences could be. She was scared for her team. Her two civilian teammates just blackmailed the General into a corner in front of his subordinates. Not to mention Aro claimed to have created Floating Array.  

The repercussions would be dire.  

Whatever was hanging over them didn’t break until Xanthic stepped out onto the roof. She glared at everyone, “Whoo. Go team APCX…” It was said in such a bored and thick drawl it seemed to have shorted Focus. Aro’s eyes suddenly dulled and she snorted and laughed while Ciel manage to hide it a little with a cough. Satisfied with seeing some life back into everyone, Xanthic ran out arms stretched above her head, “Sun! Praise the sun! I want some Menagerie and Minstrel BBQ! A drink! Fucking pretzel dip!” Whatever tension that remained eased off as Xanthic vented out into the air.  

Slowly they filtered out of the cramp elevator. Penny let everyone walk past her, watching the crowd and life the empty halls of the facility never had. Robyn and Fiona was chatting and giggling, mocking the Ace-Ops reactions. Winter and May seemed a little conflicted but their shoulders weren’t as pinched. The Specialist was rubbing her temples. All the noise of life could be overwhelming at times but… it was wondrous.  

“That would be more effective if you relaxed your jaw,” Penny whispered to her. May sneered and coughed trying to hid it. Winter half glared at Penny but she saw those lips part ever so slightly.  

“Was fucking pretzel dip sex or food?” Aro whispered to them. May growled shoving Aro forward and Winter only groaned. Thanks to the Schnee’s famously pale complexion, Penny did see a small blush across her cheeks.  

They finally caught up to the others who was just watching Xanthic prowl around yelling.  

“We should calm her down,” Robyn whispered to Ciel.  

“I was kidnapped and treated as a bargaining chip. I’m not participating in anything.” Ciel objected. Despite the harsh words her attitude was a little light and entertained, like she was enjoying Xanthic’s frustration.  

“You have no idea how crazy I was going locked up doing the same thing every-day!” Xanthic screamed into the air. Aro hummed, playing along as she opened the transport with her Scroll. “Fucking Ironwood. Argh! I want to rip that Bluetooth off his fucking face and watch his body go limp!” She stormed the transport. Team APCX followed their raging teammate. Penny frowned, finding her co-pilot seat stolen by the hacker. At least she stopped yelling and was glaring past the window. When those sharp cybernetic eyes flicked to Penny she yelped and jumped a little. “I want to beat Penny’s score.”  

“Of course you do!” Fiona yelled from the back. The Huntresses had settled onto the sofa. Penny was a little surprised to see Winter seated in the middle, Fiona and May at either sides of her. Of course Robyn at Fiona’s side. “What does everyone feel like eating? I’m calling Joanna to pick us up some food and meeting us at the Gym.” Someone said sushi and the other wanted pizza. The Huntresses argued amongst themselves with Winter softly critisisng their choices.  

Ciel made a displeased noise, “Please don’t tell me this is going to be a regular thing,” She said. The officer-in-training leaned against Xanthic’s seat, probably because Penny was beside Aro. “Blackmailing the General and everything.”  

“Things usually go a lot smoother…I’m having a hard time figuring out where my plan failed,” Aro admitted with some embarrassment.  

“Oh. So this is fucking routine. Lovely,” Ciel scowled. Then Penny remembered the little box. She slipped off her backpack and pushed aside several folded blades to get to it.  

“Could it be because I didn’t delivery this?” She asked holding the mysterious box out. If she was the reason this happened…  

Xanthic took it and wrote out her signature with her finger. Invisible seems split open to reveal a new Scroll similar to Aro’s new one and thick gloves with cybernetic attachments. Penny counted at least four hard-light projectors on the palm side.  

“There was too much security to use the Scroll and I would have just assaulted the Ace-Ops if I had my gloves,” Xanthic explained, “So it’s probably a good thing you didn’t.”  

“And even if I was here I doubt I’d be able to do much. I prefer subtle manipulations,” Aro said.  

“Pretty sure they hate it.” Xanthic’s head nodded to the back. For a moment Penny caught Winter and May’s eyes. Penny finally realized why they were able to communicate without words. It was shared history and understanding. All three of them hated this side of Aro. The pair turned back to Fiona and Robyn. Xanthic noticed but continued talking with Aro in low volumes. “But no… I don’t think we can afford to be so reckless.”  

“We showed our biggest trump card,” Aro said with a frustrated sigh. Her hands flexed around the joystick. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “My trip to Vale was to transfer ownership of ADC so Ironwood or Jacques doesn’t target that next. I’d still have connections and favors but resources will be short for a bit.”  

“Wait… what are you two talking about?” Ciel asked with a worried edge to her voice.  

Aro tilted her head, dull… no, normal sea-green eyes looking at her, “Court games, Squire.” She grinned weakly. Ciel groaned and rolled her eyes but accepted the answer. Penny had a vague understanding of the phrase. The subtle manipulations of people and appearances to influence the masses. “Things should be calm for awhile. And as much as I hate Ironwood, I’m a little excited to do this Vytal Festival thing.” Aro said, her voice picking up and sounding a little lighter, more like Penny’s first impression of the women.  

How much of her was a lie through Focus?  

The rest of the ride was filed with oddly peaceful chatter. Xanthic’s bite was more like nibble now and Ciel was always ready with a quip back. Or perhaps Penny was just growing acustome to those harsh tones. The closer they got to the Gym the more energy built up, thanks to little Thyme. In the elevator down to the basement the sheep and goat Faunus was posturing at each other.  

“Oh come on! Xanthic is a legendary shot,” Fiona argued. Xanthic smirked, pride swelling obviously.  

Aro scoffed and rolled her eyes, “And Floating Array and is 100% accurate! Besides Penny’s eyes are the newest model.”  

“Bitch,” Xanthic scowled, "My shots are all skill."  

“Five thousand lien that Penny will smoke your ass,” Aro crossed her arms. Ciel sputtered, eyes wide and head whipping back the businesswomen.  

“Just 5? And upgrades.” Xanthic pointed to her eyes.  

“Seven and a gadget IOU,” Aro agreed.  

“We’re gonna be rich!” Fiona cheered running out of the elevator as soon as it opened. She was at the far end of the basement already setting up the shooting range. Joanna had two boxes and two booths shoved together in the back looking a little confused. As soon as she saw Xanthic, a grin broke out on her face.  

“Wow! Just like our academy days!”  

“Don’t remind me,” May and Winter groaned.  

Penny wanted to watch them interact a little more but her teammates Ciel and Aro dragged her off. Specifically Aro with her odd fluctuating gravity presence. Ciel took a deep breath and put her hands on Penny’s shoulders. “Don’t lose. This is two months of pay.”  

“Uh…” Penny smiled a little nervously. Two months sounded like a lot of time and effort but she did not fully comprehend the value of lien. Or human effort. But she was combat ready! Her systems was made for fighting, “It is nearly impossible for me to lose!”  

“I don’t know…” Aro muttered rubbing her chin. Focus was still off so the chances of the mechanic lying was nearly a 0.2 percent. “Xanthic is a really good shot. I’m sure it’s because of the upgrades because her a semblance was tied to her original eyes.”  

Penny only smiled, trying to reassure her teammates. "Floating Array can split into fourteen individual components."  

“Xanthic only has two hands,” Ciel reasoned with a shrug. Aro was starting to look a little worried.  

“Will our shooters please take their places!” Robyn yelled.  

Aro ruffled Penny’s hair, a familiar gesture that tickled Penny’s ears and had her giggling a little. The seating arrangements were divided amongst Team Xanthic and Team Penny. Winter, May, Aro and Ciel sat on Penny’s side. She smiled brightly at them and May gave a loud cheer. Joanna and Fiona stood at Xanthic’s side, loudy hollering and ignoring the other patrons. Robyn dropped her lien onto the table, next to the boxes and boxes of food and walked to the middle to referee.  

“Alright ladies the rules are simple. Highest points at the end of ten minutes is victorious!” She yelled with a flare that was nearly making Penny Aura overload her power unit. Penny bounced with excitement to burn it off a little. “The current pot is half a 32 thousand lien,” Robyn said. Penny frowned and looked at Winter and May. May was grinning and cheering while Winter just shrugged her shoulders. They came from rich families but throwing so much into a game seemed excessive. “The winning team can decide how its split.”  

“What?!” Neon and Reese yelled from the back. They quickly dashed over on their skates and threw more lien on the table. “You got this cutie!” Neon cheered jumping.  

Robyn covered her mouth trying to hid a grin. Penny giggled as Reese jumped up and down on her hoverboard. “Team Penny! Go! Go!”  

Penny unfurled Floating Array from her back. All fourteen blades pointed down range. Xanthic smirked and dusted off her palms. Hard-light projectors sparked at every contact. The cybernetics glowed brighter and brighter. Was it charging or was it for show?  

“Do Robyn’s crossbow!” Fiona yelled.  

Xanthic sneered and flourished both wrist. The hard-light projectors on her gloves crafted a near exact replica of the arm mounted weapon. Robyn let out an appreciative whistle. Her confident eyes slide over to Penny.  

The metal women was starting to worry as even Robyn smirked at her, “Care for a test shot, Blue?” Robyn asked.  

Xanthic aimed down range then looked at Penny. She winked as the crossbow fired. The on the spot changes were three rails on the crossbow. Three hard-light arrows split off into different directions, three targets. Like how Aro dodged the Spider Droid without looking, Xanthic’s blind fire were all within the lethal zone. Penny frowned, humming in thought. Aro’s assessment about Xanthic’s eyes must be off. Or maybe Xanthic was using more of her neural augments? The most plausible explanation was both semblance and cybernetic enhancements.  

This challenge was definitely harder than anticipated.  

“Participants ready!?” Robyn asked.  

Penny felt her Aura swell and systems hummed. She took a deep breath, taking in as much cold air before blowing out a slightly visible steam.  

“Combat ready!” Penny confirmed.  

“Player two ready,” Xanthic smirked.  

“You got this Penn!” Aro and May yelled.  

“Xan! Xan! Xan!” Joanna and Fiona cheered.  

Robyn let the tension built up a little more before yelling, “Begin!”  

As soon as Penny started firing she realized her firing rate was not high enough. Floating Array needed time to charge while Xanthic shot once and hit three different targets. She took a deep breath and focused on control. She didn’t need a lot of power, didn’t need to charge up the shots so long. It only need to be detected by the scoring system.  

Penny started to stagger her shots as well. One barrel always firing with the others were charging up. The steady stream of fire quickly caught up with the burst Xanthic did. A downside to the gloves was reloading ability. Xanthic had to recreate the entire weapon. Which was why she was only firing with one arm, Penny realized.  

When the first crossbow finally ran out of hard-light arrows, it disappeared. With a flick of her wrist military grade, long barreled pistol was in her hand. Penny could see her cybernetic eyes telescoping and shifting from target to target. Underneath the loud cheering she could hear Xanthic’s augments hum loudly.  

It was a genuine challenge for both shooters but at the end of 10 minutes…  

Xanthic’s rate of fire outpaced Penny by ten points. Team Penny groaned and collapsed to the floor, the students particularly defeated. The idiots that threw in such large amounts of money didn’t seem to upset. Aro was nervously laughing as Ciel chewed her out.  

Team Xanthic was jumping around, particularly Fiona. Xanthic rolled her eyes and fist bumped Robyn and Joanna. Then she turned to Penny and held it out a first, “Good shooting, Swords.” Xanthic said.  

With a smile.  

Penny grinned, fist slamming into Xanthic’s. The women let out a pained, flinching as metal connected Aura-less bone and flesh. “Oh! I’m sorry!”  

“I-I’m fine,” Xanthic mumbled despite the tears in her eyes. It took a few tries with a throbbing, possible broken hand but the alias Silver Wat was once again top on the scoreboard with Penny’s name under it.  

Error: Enemy Unknown

[nomimits7]

UGH!

Title: UGH!

Genre: angsty (maybe just a little) hinting at smut but no actual action?? (Reader gets cornered and he licks her, does that count?)

Pairing: BTSrapline x reader

Au: Yandere-ish, supernatural-ish… I kind of don’t know what happened.

Warnings: sexual references. Yandere behavior. Description of a slight loss of control. Deception, slightly. Cursing… a little (in my defense, some things just sound better with a power word) considering this is the rap line, that is a warning on its own.

Song reverence: UGH! By BTS

Summary: In a rageful world ruled by rageful men, Y/N decided to change her destiny by becoming an outcast. Hated by all for being the neutral party in almost every situation, she was destined for a lonely life. Maybe her mistake was to choose to be uninformed when it came to who was in charge. Maybe her mistake was the day she allowed herself to feel wanted again. All Y/N knew was that those three men who walked through her door changed everything she has come to know.

Author notes: Hi! I’ve never done this, so I tried to base this story mostly on the actual song and my interpretation of it, with my own inserts as well! Hope you like it! Thank you @btswritingcafe​ for this fun workshop thingy!! And yes, there are a lot of different movie references as well. Lockdown got me all types of creativity.

•••

The gentle hum of the wind outside combined with the crackling of the wood in your fireplace was enough to make you feel at peace, normal even. You welcomed this feeling with open arms. It’s not often that you get to feel at peace. Even if this was by choice, you missed the peace that came with a ‘normal’ life.

Reclining in your seat, you briefly close your eyes as you try to soak up as much of the feeling as possible before you had to get back to work. You loved your job, make no mistake about it, but with your line of work some sacrifices needed to be made. Many people looked down at you for your choice but in a cruel world such as this… you were happy being an outcast. Very few people chose your line of work seeing as you had to stay neutral. Most people preferred giving in to the rage that filled the air at a constant pace.

Your little world wasn’t always like this. You once lived in a peaceful society, where people actually smiled at least once in their daily lives. This was before the fall of the peace towers before others decided to take over the energy circulating through the air.

In the city of Redak, you thrived on the energy provided by the towers built by the old kings. These towers giving most people ‘gifts’ in exchange for their fears. Yes, this didn’t sound right for most of the people living in Redak, so King Clodious decided to build a peace tower. This tower radiated peace and kept the balance needed for life to thrive. This tower especially kept the other towers on a leash, they sometimes got greedy and demanded more fear to become stronger.

Unfortunately, something or someone decided to take control of the power supply. These individuals soon realized the power harbored in fear, thus leading to the great fall of peace. People slowly started losing control of themselves. Rage being the most prominent power to make the rounds in the air, soon lead to people succumbing to it. Violence soon engulfed the city and rage filled the hearts of Redak’s citizens.

That’s where you came in. When the rage became too much for people to bear, they seek you out. You were one of the few people holding out against the rage- epidemic. Your job was one that required a neutral party to ‘extract’ the rage from a person and replace it with whatever other emotion they needed. Be it love, sadness, or happiness. People needed you, but they also resented you for being strong enough to withstand the temptation. Ultimately, this led to a very lonely life.

Each new patient presented a new challenge. Some would go out of their way to hurt others. Some would just stare and have nothing to say. Some would never shut up and then you got those who thrived in making your life miserable. Today you had one of the last ones. Clare, or rather Queen C as she preferred you call her, was in one of the more severe stages of rage. She didn’t lash out at you like most, but her words made up for that. It took you three times as long to get the right information out of her than it normally did.

And it took twice as long to get her to actually lie down on the power extractor, so you could do your damned job. Everyone you see gave into the idea of perfection or rage, then they end up judging you for staying neutral on the subject. After releasing Clare from the contraption, she was a totally different person. She actually smiled at you and thanked you for helping her. It was draining and a moment like this where you can just sit and relax was rare.

You loved your job, you truly did. You just sometimes wished you could be… normal. Being the outcast gets to you. You crave the attention and affection of others. You want to hang out with friends, lose yourself to loveless love, and be captured by scenes unfolding around you. You didn’t want to be trapped like you were. You couldn’t even leave your own house without being tempted by the sent of rage filling the air. You chose this, but sometimes you regret your choices.

The sound of your doorbell ringing pulled you from your daydreaming. You had no other scheduled appointments and it was too late for any emergency walk-ins. Reluctantly you got up to see who could possibly seek you out. Upon opening the door you’re met with three very handsome faces. They were all dressed to the nine in black suites, completed with styled hair and white button-up shirts.

“Can I help you?” you asked uncertainly. The three men just stare at you, assessing you with their eyes. Something in the way they were taking you in told you to close your door and forget you ever opened it. There was a very clear warning in their eyes, something sinister. Before you could act one of them spoke up.

“We’re sorry for barging in on you like this but we heard a rumor that you were neutral? And we need someone neutral to talk to” he was handsome, that much you could tell. His hair was a light shade of brown, his eyes glowed amber and his skin was flawless. He even added a dimpled smile to help persuade you into letting them in, and it worked. Before you knew what or how it happened they were entering your consultation space and making themselves comfortable.

A little caught off guard, you slowly made your way to your usual seat in the furthest corner of the room. This action didn’t go unnoticed by the three men. You were careful, not like the previous five neutrals they’ve encountered. Your seat was fairly far from theirs and there was a set of sensors surrounding you. They found this fascinating to say the least. Normally neutrals were just good at hiding the rage coursing through them, usually, neutrals weren’t any better than anyone else who has fallen into the trap of rage. You were… different.

“Okay, I’m going to need names, ages, and status in the hierarchic so that I know what type of extractions should be done” You began as you got your glasses from a hidden drawer. Clicking your pen, you looked up curiously to see how these men would react. They always react to this question, especially the last part.

Their eyes stayed focussed on you, unmoving and certainly not planning on moving away from you anytime soon. They expected you to be confused at first, but they didn’t think you wouldn’t recognize them at all. Did you really not know who they were? What danger you were in? Well, you will know. Soon. None the less, they decided to play along for now.

“Kim Namjoon, my age is of no importance and my status is unmatched. I do not need any extraction from you because you won’t find anything to extract.” The man in the middle spoke up. It was the same man who first talked to you. His response was expected, not in this manner but the denial was only one step they would have to take to overcome this rage they feel. Although, they seemed very calm, almost to calm and that was new.

“Jung Hoseok, If you can guess my age I might reward you baby. My status is quite important, but why don’t you come to sit on my lap and feel it rise even more?” the one on the right of Namjoon said. You instantly went red as you stared at the man with wide eyes. No man had ever spoken to you like that and it was doing something to you.

Your reaction didn’t go unnoticed by the three men as they watched you like a hawk with binoculars. You were interesting indeed. One of the emotions that get engulfed by the rage, is arousal. If you have given in, you would not be so easily worked up.

“Min Yoongi, age is just a number made up by society to set boundaries of what one can and cannot do. Status is important, but let’s pretend you didn’t ask that question… for now, it’s not important. But trust me, it will be” The last man spoke up. His voice was void of all emotion, the meaning behind his words left a cold chill hanging in the air. You need to be careful around these men.

Shallowing slowly, you averted your eyes from them. This was new, really new. No one has ever gotten to you like these men have and they’ve only been here for 3 minutes. You needed to get this done with and get them out of your home. Something’s off and not in the normal way.

“Y/N”

At the mention of your name, you looked up to see who has spoken your real name. You never shared that aspect of you. No one knew who you were. A name holds so much power and once you gave it away, it’s over. You must have worn your emotions on your sleeve because as soon as you locked eyes with each man, they returned your stare with a slight smirk.

“So, you do exist? We were beginning to think you were a made-up myth or something. Anyway, did you know that everyone is bound to be swallowed by the rage? Even the most stubborn of people give in. It’s been proven countless times. Sometimes they give in just to survive.” Hoseok said as he slowly leaned forward. His eyes, that use to be a deep brown, slowly swirled with red as he kept them on you.

The sensors next to your seat suddenly lost all power. Their lights flickering and going out with a pop that made you jump slightly. You knew you shouldn’t react and somehow you managed to keep as still as possible. Your heart only skipping a beat as a response. You won’t give in to fear, you won’t give in to rage. You won’t give in to them.

Your lack of response only spurred them on to see how far they can push you. They needed to be sure you were indeed the last remaining neutral out there before they could proceed. They could feel the power building within you and that alone made them want you for themselves even more.

“How much of the things people tell you in here do you believe? The truth may become false, the lies may become true. How do you know people aren’t lying to you?” Namjoon asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Tilting your head slightly, his question surprised you. Just moments ago, Rambo over there was trying to get into your head with all his rage talk and so and then he asks you this? Before you could mull over his question more your own voice interrupted you.

“Eyes, Their eyes. Usually, you can read their emotions through their eyes. But most of my clients are regulars and they understand what can happen when they lie. I choose to trust them, they know what they're getting themselves into. I’ve always been an open person, but I do know they lie anyway. There’s nothing I can do about that” your voice was small, yet strong. It was the truth and you knew they knew it was.

The trio didn’t know what they expected you to answer, but it certainly wasn’t that. You were so honest compared to the other. Of course, the other neutrals immediately recognized them and answered according to that. But you, you answered with honesty and so much innocence it was sickening. The way you held yourself was pure and for some reason, they felt the need to hide you away from the world. Like you were made of glass and could shatter at any moment, the initial plan be damned.

“What do you believe Y/N? What caused this world to give in? Why didn’t you give in like them?” Yoongi asked. His voice is soft and full of the promise that you will be all right. This was truly nothing like what your appointments usually consist of. Not one of your clients has ever spoken to you in such a manner that you felt like a human. They always spoke with disgust or anger. Never as soft as this.

“I always suspected there was a reason people started hating and raging. Just the other day I had to sedate one of my regulars because they lost control. There was a time I thought that something that happened in our past was the reason, yet I came up with nothing. But as I concluded my research I did find something that could provide the answers. When the rage took over our little world, our people fell into fear and chaos. Everyone was scared to death of the future without the peace tower. I believe that is what caused this. Fear, not rage” you answered, voice matching his softness.

You could see that they expected a different response. Like they wanted a different answer. You couldn’t place the emotion you saw reflecting in each of their eyes, so you opted for disappointment. This left a very uneasy feeling in your gut. Why? Why would your answer disappoint? You got the fact that nobody liked or cared for you, but disappointment? That’s new indeed.

“Do you know how neutrals are born?” Namjoon asked, tilting his head slightly. Shaking your head, you allowed yourself to be curious for once. Usually, you wouldn’t dare, but maybe one slip won’t be that catastrophic.

“Neutrals” Namjoon began.

“Neutrals don’t exist by choice. They are born with the inability to completely give in to the rage. Sometimes they do make the choice to give in, but the opposite is easier to do for them. These people are born from a bond of pure lust mixed with love and affection. A careless act their parents would never see as such. Some call it a spur of the moment decision were both parties forget about the rage and fear for those precious moments they share. Where the old world emotions are the only ones present. These children won’t seem different for the first few years. They make mistakes and get angry and act ‘normal’ in the content of the rage. But once they reach the subadult stage they begin to show signs of neutralism. The neutrals thrive off the fear of others, exactly like those in charge, just without knowing. They tend to scare other naturally and thus can grow extremely strong.” Namjoon added, carefully watching the color drain from your face.

“Once they reach adulthood, they are known as outcasts. Now even with them possessing gifts like the feeding of fear and so they tend to ‘not’ survive. Others kill them out of fear, or they are hunted down by other neutrals. Some ‘neutrals’ are just normal people in disguise. You see, one of the gifts that some receive is the act of deceivement. And trust me, they know how to use this gift. Even people like us were fooled more times than we would care to admit” Hoseok added helpfully.

You were not okay. You could feel your head swimming with a hundred and ten different thoughts at once, trying to make sense of this new information. But it seemed like fate had other plans for you.

“Neutrals are very lucky. They receive very rare gifts like control of an element or mind reading. Some even have levitation powers. It can get quite annoying when you try to kill them. I’m curious Y/N. What gifts do you possess? And why are those sensors pointed at you and not us? Aren’t we the ones that tend to lose control?” Yoongi concluded with a tilt of his head.

He had a point. But he wasn’t a regular and thus he didn’t understand why your office was organized like it was. Of course, there were reasons things were the way they were, but as naïve as you are, you’re not stupid enough to trust a total stranger from the word go. Once they knew there would be no turning back. You still haven’t figured out why these men were so important.

“I can’t tell you that” You softly whisper more to yourself than them. That was one secret of your life you wish to take to your grave. Even your long term clients have no clue what you're truly hiding. They simply just know to not set you off.

A low chuckle vibrates through the room as you silently sit and observe the three, laughing men. You knew just then and there these men where here to test you, and you have never been this close to losing your grip on yourself.

“I would advise you three to shut up and get this session over with so you can leave my house,” You said lowly, already losing yourself. This seemed to shut them up rather quickly. The last thing they expected was for you to lose your composure.

“Hey Y/N. Wha-“Namjoon began only to be cut off by your voice.

“Right, sorry about that. Moving on. Could you kindly turn the sensors back on? It’s for your own safety” You said with a beaming smile, a completely different person from just a few seconds ago. Within a few heartbeats later the sensors were back up and running, you visibly sagging with relief.

“So, it’s true what they say. You may be holding out against the rage, but that’s only because you're fighting a continuous battle against your own power within you. That’s why you have the sensors, for when you lose control. It’s to protect your clients, isn’t it?” Yoongi’s voice entered your ears.

Your face paled as you suddenly sat up straight. Slowly you crossed your hands in your lap, briefly making eye contact with each of the men sitting in front of you.

“I think you should leave now. I do hope you can find what you are seeking elsewhere” you said as you stood up on shaky legs and slowly made your way to the entryway. You made it a miraculous two meters before a warm hand engulfed your wrist. In one swift movement, you have spun around and was pinned against the wall.

“I don’t mean to be intruding in personal matters, but I do find it extremely rude that you haven’t tried to figure out who we really are. So, let me spell it out to you nicely. Hello Y/N, I’m Jung Hoseok. The third Lord. You know, those people that’s actually in charge of all of Redak? Over there is Kim Namjoon, the First Lord and that my dear, is Min Yoongi the second Lord.” Hoseok said. His grip tight as his face hovered close to your left ear.

Your eyes widened upon hearing this new information. How stupid of you to refuse to stay up to date with the happenings of your own world. If you have known who was in charge, this situation right here would never have happened. Gosh, you wouldn’t even have let them inside your home if you knew.

Licking a long stride along with the expanse of your neck, Hoseok moved away from you slightly. Your face was paler than he liked but he knew you needed to know that bit of information before they could continue. You were the last piece of the puzzle and by the seven towers, they were going to do anything to get you. Anything.

“Get out” you whispered, sliding down the wall into a little bundle on the ground. There’s a fine line between rage and fear and to any normal human, you would resemble those in the first stages of surrender. Your form small and weak against the enormous power your weak body was objected to. But they knew better. They knew that your form might look weak, but that’s only because you are afraid. Not of them, but yourself.

You chose to fear the one monster you could not control. The monster you were born as. The one neutral that could change everything if she was given the proper training. The one neutral robbed of everything by the only people she deemed good. The one neutral deprived of love, afraid of her own shadow.

“You know. For someone as smart as you, you sure can act dumb. You know as well as we do why we are here and that we cannot just leave after finding you.” Yoongi said. But the confused look on your face was enough to inform him that you truly had no idea why you were of any importance to them. Something neither of them had time to explain to you know.

“We don’t have time to enlighten you but let me give you a quick overview,” Namjoon said, crouching down next to you and lifting your chin with his finger. Your eyes locked and for the love of all that is peaceful, you couldn’t look away even if you tried. His eyes held a dominance that contrasted his words.

“Everyone out there chose to embrace the rage out of fear. The rage wasn’t supposed to turn out like this. The rage was just put in place to make people a bit more fearful of their dearest. It was meant to help people protect. It was meant to give them just the right amount of courage to stand their ground against threats. Unfortunately, we lost control, and to regain that control we must balance out the power tower. We didn’t destroy that peace tower, the people did. The last thing we wanted is for chaos and destruction.” His eyes held a sadness that you have never seen in anyone before.

You felt your heart skip a beat and you subconsciously raised your hand to hold his. His eyes never left yours, something felt familiar about them. But it was the sincerity in them that allowed you to trust them. All three of them.

“Apathy combined with excretion should do the trick to gain control once again” Your voice was soft yet it held truth. The moment the source of the problem is removed the balance should be restored.

“That’s the problem we face. We are the source. The rage that courses through the air, emits from us. We control the amount of power that is released. If we can’t find something to counteract…” Yoongi trails off, looking at you.

He couldn’t possibly mean that you were that something, could he? You were an out of control neutral how could you help them, help Redak? You only did extractions. You steered clear of too much attention. You tried to not let the people see what monster you really were.

Your breathing became shallow as anxiety took over. This was the last thing you needed, you couldn’t lose control now. These men, how powerful they may be, were in danger and you needed them to leave before you snapped. Just as you were about to warn them, the windows started rattling as the walls of the house started shaking. The three men were clearly startled as their eyes shot to yours.

The sensors in your consultation room suddenly started going off and all you could do was yell ‘RUN’ to the three men standing in front of you. It took them a good 5 seconds to realize that they had no other choice in the matter. There where books flying everywhere and some of the furniture even started disintegrating.

“Y/N, we can help you get control. You need us just as we need you. I know you can feel the connection. Let us protect you” Namjoon shouted before all three of them hurried out of the house. Just in time to hear you scream and everything going silent. As much as the sound of your screams was unsettling, all three men slightly smirk at what was to come.

Lying on the floor, almost lifeless, you could only stare at the ceiling as the shockwaves ran through your body. You needed to increase the voltage again, it’s supposed to knock you out and not paralyze you. You were growing stronger and you feared that soon not even the shocking would be enough to control your powers.

•••

It’s been roughly three days since they left your house. Three horribly long days. The amount of power circulating the air increased almost three times than before, and the number of extractions you had to do daily increased almost ten times. Things were getting ridiculous and out of hand. You haven’t completely lost control, but you came very close in the last 48 hours.

Every day that passes gets worse. Not only for your clients but for you too. Usually, your clients came around every five weeks for extraction, sometimes they could stretch even longer. But now you saw some of them at least twice in the past three days. Despite all this, you stayed indifferent, disgusted but indifferent.

You knew what had caused this, but you refused to show sympathy. Your argument was simple, they chose to give in. Why should you feel anything toward their choices? It’s not like it’s your fault they could not hold out. You flat out refused to even think about the three men that occupied your house a few days ago. You refused to think about what they told you, what they did to you. To put it plainly, you were being beyond stubborn.

Well, if you were completely honest with yourself, you were thankful for being so busy with clients. This only meant you had no time whatsoever to think about them, or what they promised you. But soon enough you said goodbye to your last client, and you were left alone with your thoughts.

“Y/N, we can help you get control. You need us just as we need you. I know you can feel the connection. Let us protect you”

Of everything that could pop up into your mind, Namjoons last words played on repeat. They could help you. You knew how close you were to losing it. How dangerous you became every minute that you remain stubborn. But stubbornness is what kept you alive all this time. Through every challenge you faced, your stubbornness is what helped you to not give in to the rage.

But your struggling. Not against the rage but against yourself and this time, you might actually lose. You have no idea how many times your body would be able to handle the shocking before it to will cave in. You know the risks and yet somethings keeping you from seeking them out.

You were just about to take a seat in your consultation area to relax for a bit when the tension snapped. Your whole world started spinning as you felt the power circulate through your veins. Your windows started rattling again as you collapsed to the ground. It felt like you couldn’t breathe with the amount of electricity running through your muscles. But nothing happened. Your own power took control and all you could do was watch as your whole world, your life burned to ashes all around you.

Tears streamed down your face freely as you watched the flames consume your hard work in seconds. You have finally lost the ability to control your own demons.

After the power within has returned to their dungeons within your heart, you finally decided to give into them. That’s how you find yourself outside the tall steel gates 40 minutes later. Tear stained cheeks, with only a handful of your belongings you could salvage. You had no certainty that these men could help you, or even if they would protect you. The journey to their mansion alone has been difficult and unpredictable.

Someone out there really loved fucking with you. First, your own parents abandon you at the ripe age of nine, then you nearly die twice because of some punks ruffing you up. And just when you finally settled into the only profession someone as you could do, this happens. Your whole world literally goes up in flames by your own uncontrolled power. The cherry on top would have to be the fact that there seems to be no fucking bell on the gates and you just walked all this way for nothing. Thanks for that karma.

Just as you began using a fresh packet of tears the gates opened. Hesitantly you stepped inside and made your way up to the front door. Doors swinging open by an unknown force, you peek inside the dark foyer. This was by far the creepiest house in Redak. Not even your home was this dark when the lights were off and the curtains were drawn.

The lights flickered on, startling you into a new bloodline, as three figures appear at the foot of the staircase you failed to notice. Looking around the room, you notice how modern this ancient house is decorated. From the beautiful wooden floors up to the cream painted walls. Finally, your eyes were drawn to the crystals that seem to be the light source hanging from the ceiling. This place looked and smelled fancy and you seriously began rethinking your decision to even breathe the air.

“Y/N? This is truly a surprise. I was beginning to think you would never come here. Oh my, it looks like you’ve been through a rough day” Namjoon said as his surprised gaze turned to concern when he took in your ashened form. At his words, your gaze snapped to your appearance. Your clothes were stained with soot and you probably smelled like a burned turkey. Simply put, you would put a hobo to shame at the way you dared appear before the Lord’s of Redak.

“I-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come here looking like this. I-I’ll be leaving. S-sorry” You hastily stuttered out before turning around and aiming for the door. The same door that suddenly slammed shut before you could even take a step forward.

“Do you want some tea? Maybe coffee? We even have alcohol if that would help you calm down. You can freshen up here and then we’ll talk. Come I’ll even dare say I can find you some fresh clothes” Hoseok said as he swiftly reached for your hand to lead you to the bathroom.

“C-coffee would be nice thank you” you simply replied as you allowed the Third Lord to lead you to the bathroom. His hand was warm in yours and you wanted to soak up as much of it as you could but the dirt on your palm prevented that. You were beyond embarrassed at how fragile you had become. These strangers had no obligation to take care of you or even be this nice to you. Why they deemed you worthy, you did not know.

They honestly thought they would have to use even more force to get to you, but when you arrived at their gates it was like the pain inside of them disappeared. They were losing control over the amount of power they released into Redak and they knew the effect it would have on the people. But they couldn’t give a flying pigs ass over the people of Redak. They wanted only you. The fact that you were so different made you that more appealing. Hench why they had to go to extremes such as fire to get to you.

They could sense the amount of power you harbored, and they knew how to use it to balance everything out to and extend. Their plan was simple: go in, retrieve the power, and get rid of its owner. But that plan changed the minute you opened that door. You were beyond beautiful. Everything about you screamed innocence and purity. Your curious eyes and silent professionalism were a major turn on. But the thing that fixed the decision of claiming you were the way you had no control. Your lack of control over your own powers being the contrast of the century in regard to the work you did.

The most intense of desires to protect you, help you took control the moment you screamed at them to get away before it was too late. They had no idea what happened to you that day after that scream, but they knew you had to, no needed to hurt yourself to gain even the slightest of control. It hurts them to even think of what you possibly did to yourself. But it also warmed their hearts to see the trouble you went through to protect the low lives that depended on you. You were indeed innocent and pure, naïve even, yet they could see the loneliness in your eyes.

They would give their lives to be able to change that, but let’s not think to unrealistically. The chance of that happening was slim and now that you were here, in their mansion made things far easier than they initially thought.

Returning to the matter at hand. They didn’t mean to listen for any noise coming from the bathroom, but when you whimpered at the feeling of hot water against your skin, they almost lost their minds. The fact that you were right there made things worse, but they just couldn’t stop listening to your every gasp, whimper, or sob. Whatever happened before the fire clearly took a toll on your beautiful self.

Once the water shut down, they decided to make their presence known by knocking on the door. Even the yelp of surprise that escaped your mouth had their knees weak and heads swim with lust. It took them another 10 seconds to come back to reality before speaking.

“Y/N? How do you take your coffee? Also, we found some clothes for you” Yoongi’s slurry voice reached for you through the door. His voice was so different compared to the first time you met him. It held emotion and even some strain from the sound of it. Yet, it also felt like silk on soft skin, filling you with warmth and calm. It was a weird contrast and you secretly loved every second of it!

Opening the door slightly, you accepted the clothes and explained your coffee preference. No sugar with milk. It was bitter but what was the point of drinking coffee if you kill the taste with loads of sugar? You didn’t really expect them to find you clothes, but the fact that they gave you a simple button-up shirt that was long enough to work as a dress and a hoodie to match was surprising, to say the least. They added some shorts that hid nicely under the shirt along with some simple socks to keep the feet warm. Tying your hair into a messy, wet bun you opened the door to find Namjoon patiently waiting for you.

“Wow. You clean up nicely” Namjoon awkwardly cleared his throat as he averted his gaze from you. You’re wearing his shirt, Yoongi’s shorts, and Hoseok’s hoodie. He would be lying if he said you just looked okay. It was like their clothes were not made for them but for you to wear. This only further proved their decision to take you for themselves, the correct one.

Trailing behind him towards what you assumed to be the living room, you couldn’t help but take his form in. clad in tight jeans and a tight shirt this man was the reincarnation of sin. It had to be illegal to look so casual while screaming confidence.

Soon you were sitting in front of all three men, warm coffee in hand and nerves ablaze. They asked you what happened about 5 minutes ago, you have yet to answer. They were patiently observing you. You looked small and beyond vulnerable in front of them and internally they goo-ed at your sweater paws clutching the coffee cup tightly as if it were the only lifeline available. They knew what happened, but they weren’t planning on telling you what part they played in it.

“After you left, things got worse for my clients. It was as the power in the air itself increased and that caused many of them to come for extraction in a very short time of their previous ones. I have no idea what triggered it but my own powers started acting out. I even increased the voltage that I use to control my power to far over normal, but it didn’t help. Today, when I said goodbye to my last customer, it felt like a tsunami of power that escaped me. The shocking did nothing and I… I was left watching my whole life burnt to ashes around me. I-it was so intense that I blacked out. I have no idea how long I was out, but when I woke up everything was gone. And somehow I ended up here” you finished off in a whisper as silent tears streamed down your face.

You were ashamed. Your world came crumbling down and here you were, silently seeking their protection, their promise you decided to ignore the first time they made it.

“You have no reason to be ashamed and we’re sorry that you had to go through something like that. The important thing, however, is that you are here now. We’ll give you anything you need” Hoseok said. Reassurance ever-presents in his eyes. You could only smile weakly at them before you felt that overwhelming feeling return. The one that took away everything from you and your eyes widened in fear. You can’t control it and you knew you had to leave before you destroyed them as well.

Everything happened within a matter of seconds. You stood and bolted for the door. Just to collide with a hard chest as arms trapped you against it. You were so, so scared. You can’t allow this to happen. Thus, the struggling began. You were beyond desperate, and you fully relied on your instincts to get you out. Get away from these men that did nothing but be kind towards you.

“Let me go! You’re not safe, I need to get away from you before I destroy you to” You practically screamed.

“Y/N, take deep breaths for me. We can help you, just let us in. Let us in angel” Namjoon’s desperate voice filled your ears.

“We know you're scared. It’s okay to be scared baby” Yoongi’s soft voice came from behind you.

“W-what should I-I do?” You asked as another wave of energy filled your veins, making you stumble. It felt like lava coursing through your veins as the pain becomes too much to bear.

“Let us in. Calm your mind and allow us to take over. All you have to do is trust us. We won’t hurt you sweetheart, but I can’t promise you this will be painless. Let us help you” Hoseok said, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. With wide eyes staring at them with complete trust, you simply nodded at his words as you focussed on calming down your racing mind.

Namjoon held you tightly against him as all three of them readied themselves for what they were about to do. Never in their lives had it been this difficult to consume powers from someone. They wanted anything but to hurt you like this, but this was the only way. With one final nod, they began the process.

It was a simple process that ensured they would be able to consume as much power as they wanted from the host. But this process itself was painful, not only for the host but for them as well. The first step was to literally open the host. Nothing to major, the smallest incision would do. The next step was to start the process, it was close to blood magic but far more painful and cleaner.

For the one whos powers, they would consume it felt like someone was ripping their soul out. They could feel every single detail of the power being drained out of them. For them, it felt like hours of torture where in reality it took only 5 minutes to drain them dry.  

For a brief moment, nothing happened. You stood there in the middle of them, tears still flowing down your cheeks. There was no power present, not from them and not from you. For the first time in your life, you experienced a world without any external forces. It felt lighter, freer as if you could conquer the world in one day. But like all good things, this moment of peace was ripped away.

It came out of nowhere. Your own power resurfaced with a vengeance like no other. Every inch of your body, mind, and soul was consumed by this overwhelming pain, forcing you to collapse to the ground. Before you could even cry out in pain a new feeling took a hold of you. It felt something close to a hot knife driving through your heart at a slow pace. You could feel every bit of your power being ripped from your body.

Your cries of pain were the only thing keeping them grounded. Your power was so overwhelmingly powerful that they could feel their control slip. But hearing your cries, seeing your curled-up form on the floor reminded them that they needed to stop. They have only taken a fourth of your power, they needed to take more.

Soon enough Hoseok caught sight of the blood dripping out of your nose as you became motionless. The sight that greeted them when they finally pulled away, broke them. Your fragile body felt heavy in Namjoon’s arms as he picked you up and carried you to one of the many rooms. You were still alive, but you were weak. Weak from carrying this burden alone. Weak from fighting against yourself constantly. This being a small sacrifice for them to finally have you in their grasp.

Since the day they consumed some of your power, the city of Redak took a complete 180⁰ turn. The rage that once dominated the streets had subsided, the hate in the eyes of its citizens was replaced by compassion. To put it simply, Redak returned to what it once was before the great fall of the peace tower. People were genuinely happy again.

It’s been almost five days since you gave them your trust. Yoongi was keeping watch over your sleeping form when a soft whimper escaped your once silent mouth. He has never moved so fast in his life. One moment he was sitting near the window watching the trees move with the wind, the next he was kneeling beside you, screaming for the others as he carefully took your hand in his.

Even with the big sacrifice you made, the boys never expected you to stay asleep for so long. They missed your voice, your eyes, your everything. They wanted to see what a real smile would look like, what your laugh would sound like, what your lips would taste like. What it would feel like to own such beauty.

It took Namjoon and Hoseok exactly 5 seconds to make it to beside Yoongi. All three of them carefully watched for any signs of life or movement. When nothing happened for a few moments the feeling of true fear took hold of them. What if you never came back? Might they have overdone it? Did they hurt you that badly that perhaps you wanted to stay away?

Just as they were about to give up, another small whimper escaped your throat. Accompanying said whimper your eyes fluttered open. Their relieved faces being the first thing you see. A soft subtle smile pulling at your lips as you finally felt free.

So naïve.

[msbarrows]

Cataracts - What Surgery Is Like

As previously mentioned, I’d developed cataracts and am now going through surgery for them, and have elected to document a bit about what it’s all like from my viewpoint. Mostly because I think it’d make a nice reference for anyone wanting to write with some degree of accuracy about what it’s like from the inside.

This post contains a description of the surgical process involved and what that actually feels like, I’m trying not to be overly graphic but I’m also not elliding over any of the grosser bits (thankfully and surprisingly very little).

First off, a descriptiong of the preliminaries. This started for me with my vision going blurry over the last couple of years, and finally getting around to visiting my old optomitrist when I happened to be in Toronto over last Christmas (as my one up north just retired a couple years ago, and I hadn’t replaced her yet). Of the several potential causes for the vision loss I was experiecing, what I had turned out to be cataracts, of the variety that occurs at the back of the lens and therefor doesn’t cause easily-visible clouding. Which I actually said “Oh, thank god!” to when the optomitrist told me, since they are the absolute easiest thing to fix, while some of the other options (detached retina, or diabetes-related macular degradation, to name a couple) are much less so. Then he gave me a reference to an opthamologist. Thanks to COVID-19, it was this fall before I was finally able to actually get to the clinic and see her.

From my point of view, the process then went pretty quickly. Note that I was at an eye institute that specializes in cataract treatment; everything is contained in one building (a nicely renovated Victorian brick house in the Annex area of Toronto). So all tests and surgery are done on premises.

First appointment there, they did the same sort of vision tests my optomitrist generally does, plus some extra inner-eye photography to get a good look at what was going on. This was done by two different people, one doing the eye-chart related tests and a different one doing the photography. Then I met briefly with my doctor, who looked over my questionnaire (which included questions like whether near, mid, or distance vision was most important to me, and was there a focal distance I particularly needed to be glasses free for, etc.), and that I didn’t need nor have interest in a lens replacement that wasn’t covered under our provincial health care.

A week later I returned for them to perform eye measurement tests, which are used as a basis for manufacturing the replacement lens. They measure the size and shape of the eye, and mostly just involved staring into various machines while photos are taken. The weirdest one, which they did last, involved dripping numbing drops into my eyes, and then lightly pressing a small sensor to multiple places both directly on the eyeballs and then on the closed lids. Something to do with viscosity I’d assume.

And now for a description of the general surgical process, which you can also find summarized (or in more detail) at a number of medical web sites. In my case, it was a pretty basic surgery being performed; the opthamologist needed to make a small slit in the outer layer of my eye, used a tiny probe to break down the lens using ultrasound waves, vacuum out the broken down lens, then use a largish needle to insert a folded plastic lens into the eye, where it would unfold within the capsular space and could be tweaked as needed into the correct position. The cut in the eye is tiny enough that it usually doesn’t even need stitching, apparently.

I was asked to arrive at a specific time, and had to start applying dilating drops to my eyes an hour, half-hour, and five minutes before leaving for the clinic. No nail polish or facial makeup. Preferable wearing comfortable pants and a loosely short-sleeved button front shirt without any undershirt or long underwear beneath it (which turns out to be a “just in case things go crazily sideways” measure; they didn’t actually need to access anything on my torso).

The first step after I arrived at the clinic was being dressed in PPE - one of their own disposable masks to be sure I was wearing a good enough one (that wasn’t coated in whatever mine had picked up outside), a hair cap, a long-sleeved thigh-length blue plasticized robe (it had thumb holes to prevent the sleeves from slipping), and booties over my shoes.

Then I was taken to their surgical floor, where a nurse began a series of eye drops. These included more dilation, an antispectic, and an antibiotic, that I can remember - multiple drops of all. She also gave me a teeny tiny pill to place under my tongue and let dissolved, which contained a small dose of a relaxant/anti-anxiety med (Sorry, she told me the name of it at the time but it’s dropped out of my memory). I didn’t notice any particular change in my mood, but then I’d been counting slow deep breaths since arriving (4 seconds in, 4 seconds out...) to help keep myself relaxed and give myself something to focus on that wasn’t omfg I’m going to be awake during this! Because yeah, not having a clue what it was going to be like was stressful. Nurse also took my blood pressure to be sure I was fine in that regards, and put a sticker on the gown to remind the doctor that it was my right eye being done that day.

After a brief wait, I was moved into one of the surgical theatres, where there was a dentist chair they sat me in, then connected a blood pressure cuff, fingertip monitor (hence the no nail polish rule) and sensors on the backs of both hands and one ankle (I’m assuming those were measuring a mix of blood oxygenation and heartbeat, with the ankle one making sure my feet were still getting blood when I was spending the surgery in what ended up as a tipped-over-backwards with head lowest position). They then rinsed my eye and the orbital area with bactine (very yellow vision while that happens), then patted the area around the eye dry.

The doctor sat at my head, and applied a medical drape with a pre-cut adhesive-edged opening over my eye, then peeled off a translucent applique that was over the hole. Then they applied medical clamps that held my eyelids in the open position (which thanks to the numbing drops, I didn’t feel at all). A brightly lighted microscope was then positioned over the eye, and I was told to stay as still as possible and stare at the red dot in the lighted area. The doctor then did the surgery as described above. From my point of view, there was very little to feel; occasional dull pressure, some random coldness that I believe was the eye being irrigated. I could hear the occasional very quiet noise the probe made as the lens was sucked away, but mostly it was just staring at the red light as well as I could while my vision distorted oddly and I continue counting breaths. Within what felt like no more than 5-10 minutes (if that), it was all over with.

They had me continue to lie there for a couple minutes while they peeled off the drape, wiped the eye area clean, and removed all the sensors, then a brief rest before having me sit up.

I blinked once or twice, and... DAMN! Sudden near-perfect vision in an eye that hasn’t seen clearly without help since I was in single digit ages. And the saturation. The detail.

Now, my left eye of course still has a cataract (it gets treated next week). I’d been telling people for a while that basically all my right eye was seeing was blur, so my left eye was doing most of the seeing, and I thought my left eye wasn’t anywhere near as bad as my right. With my right eye now seeing perfectly, I could now alternate opening eyes from side to side, and see just how badly (and irregularly) blurred and yellowed the left lens actually is. To which I can only saw, WTF, how was I even seeing anything at all!?

Then they had me sit for a while in the waiting area, where the doctor came and double-checked I was fine, and gave me a kit in a plastic bag of a card that identifies that I have an interocular lens (and info about it), a prescription for two different eye drops (antibiotic and anti-inflamatory) which was enough for both this eye and the eye getting operated on next week, and a shield to wear at night for the first five nights, to be sure I don’t accidentally rub it or put pressure on it.

Then I put on sunglasses (because hugely dilated eye) and walked out.

Side note - they won’t do your operation unless you have a ride home arranged; because that tiny pill means you’re in a slightly altered state, among other reasons. Good thing it was my brother and not, say, a taxi, since among other things it took us three drugstores to find one that actually had both kinds of eyedrops in stock, yay super fun.

Also, remember me talking about the starburst rays I was seeing around lights due to cataracts? While my eye was still dilated (which lasted until after midnight) I was seeing what I can only describe as ‘Ferris wheels’ - a burst of  rays expanding out like the spokes of a wheel, and ending in an uneven ring of dots of bright light, each wheel matching the colour of the light causing it. Looked wild at night. Thankfully that effect has now gone away.

Had a follow-up appointment this morning where they did an eye chart and the rebounce test where they puff air at your cornea, and the opthamologist says the vision in that eye tested as 20/20 (WOOO! Finally something good with that number). I can see sharply and clearly for blocks from the mid-range on out. Sadly when I try to use my computer, tablet, etc (near-range and close vision) the eye can’t focus down far enough; some of that may improve over the next month or two as the eye continues healing, and adapting to the lens. In the meantime my sister suggested I try a pair of her reading glasses and, yay, that worked. I am now planning that after my follow-up appointment for next week’s surgery on the left eye, I’ll run around and pick up 2-3 pairs of reading glasses of various strengths (which I will get will depend on what seems to work best with arm’s length and close-in viewing), to carry me through until I go back to an optomitrist in a month or three, and get my vision evaluated to see if I need actual prescription reading and/or far distance glasses.

In the meantime, apart from computer/tablet use, I am glasses free. I can’t even remember ever having such sharp, clear, and saturated vision (since I’ve been in glasses for such a long time). You know the “oh, trees are made of leaves!” effect? I am getting that with every single thing I look at. Oh, that’s how much grey is in my hair? Weird, I never noticed this wall was textured before. Oh geez, that text over there is so small and yet I AM READING IT. I mean, even with glasses I probably was never able to read that from this distance! Etc ad infinitum.

It’s just so, so nice.

And that’s with just one eye finished. I am now really looking forward to next week’s surgery. Stress? What stress!?

[snowbellewells]

CS January Joy///Day 7: Adorable Old Man

Some future fluff for my first @csjanuaryjoy entry, complete with a Killian turning silver fox and a playfully teasing Emma and toddler Hope.  Sorry that it’s evening on my day, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it!!

“Adorable Old Man”

By: @snowbellewells

“Swan!” Killian’s rich voice, more than a bit overloud in their quiet house, boomed within the enclosing walls as if he still thought he was on his ship upon the rolling waves that slapped against its wooden sides. She had talked before about being able to hear him without his bellowing, but as he added, sounding rather out of sorts, “Can you help me for a moment, Love?” she just shook her head affectionately, well aware that some habits were hard to break.

As she neared the living room, she could also hear Hope giggling from where she had set her daughter up on the floor with the coffee table as her work space to spread out paper and crayons. It wasn’t an unusual arrangement, as Killian’s favorite reading spot was the chair in the corner where a window overlooked the harbor, and Hope always wanted to be following her papa around or settled near him.

Emma would not have thought it possible for anyone to be as enamored of her husband as she herself was - but their little girl could give her a run for her money. Hope looked at Killian as though he brought the sunrise and made the waves roll under the ship they both loved. Their little girl was every bit her father’s daughter, and much more pirate than princess. Not that Emma minded - the same could be said of her, despite how royal she might be by birth.

Even at four, Hope had a determined mind of her own - knowing what she wanted and determined to get it, regardless of what might stand in her way. They had tried to make her a permanent drawing table and organized drawers of supplies in her own room, but their wayward miniature buccaneer kept dragging all her paper and markers and crayons out to whatever room Killian settled in and had long since decided it was a battle not worth fighting about.

As Emma came down the last few steps to the first floor and entered the living room, she looked at both her husband and child for a moment, wondering what had amused Hope so much. Her eyes followed her preschooler’s gaze over to where Killian was fiddling with the wall thermostat in agitation. Even from across the room, she could hear him muttering to himself, more audibly than he probably realized. “Bloody cantankerous monstrosity! Can’t be blasted simple and straightforward to control…. Why aren’t you working?”

She tried valiantly - really she did - but it didn’t take long before she was biting back her own humored response to his exasperation. Moving into the room and over to her pirate, Emma winked at Hope conspiratorially and put a finger to her lips, not intending to have Killian catch them both laughing at him.

“Need a little help there, Babe?” she tried gently, a note of jest in her tone despite her best effort. He was simply too adorably flustered to resist teasing. She wasn’t sure why he was trying to crank up the heat anyway; it was unseasonably mild outside for January, not that cold at all. But there he was wearing a wool cardigan that made him look like a professor or an enticing reiteration of Mr. Rogers, bent over the thermostat dial as if he might start shivering and his teeth go to chattering if he didn’t master its function soon.

“Apparently so, Love,” he sighed wearily, taking a step back so she could see what the issue might be. “I’ve turned it up several degrees, and still have yet to hear that wretched furnace come to life.”

She shook her head once again upon seeing that the digital read was at nearly 76 degrees already. “Babe,” she sighed herself. “It’s not an instantaneous reaction. A sensor tells it when the house temperature has fallen below what we’ve set, and then it kicks on to regulate it back to that degree. Are you really still cold? I don’t think it’s fallen below the read out.”

Huffing in indignation, Killian turned those disgruntled baby blues on her mournfully, as if deeply betrayed she hadn’t taken his side. Rather than distracting from the entrancing power those eyes had always held over her, the bifocals he was prescribed about a year ago only seemed to make his glances twinkle all the more - with mischief, fire, or deeper emotion.

Running her fingers back through the tinged grey hair at his temples and scratching them through his scalp, she offered him a small half-smile. The action made a low rumble escape his lips, his forehead fell to rest on her shoulder as the tension in his own relaxed. She could feel him chuckling lightly, realizing how silly it all probably appeared. “My poor old man,” she crooned playfully, unable to resist a bit of teasing at her pirate’s expense. “Circulation failing you after 200 some years?”

With a snort, he pulled back, squinting at her behind those dark frames, mouth falling open at her unexpected jab. “Oi, Swan, watch who you’re calling old!”

He almost set her giggling once more with the knowledge that he had to pull back to focus on her better - just as he had taken to holding the newspaper further from him and back, along with his folio volumes of Yeats poetry and nautical adventure novels.

“Give it up,” she admonished, shaking her head at him as she patted his chest and pulled him over to the couch to sit curled together facing where Hope is still seated cross-legged and watching them rather than her forgotten drawing. “I’ll cuddle and keep you warm.”

Nodding in agreement, Killian wrapped his arms around her as she leaned against his chest, nuzzling her nose into his collarbone. “Bad form, teasing a man about things he cannot change,” he murmured into her hairline, briefly tickling her waist, but as she yelped and wiggled, he stopped, clearly preferring to hold her close. 

Hope watched the whole exchange between her parents avidly, a wide smile on her mischeivous face. When her papa looked up briefly to waggle his eyebrows at her and chide her teasingly, “That goes for you too, you little heathen.”

She chortled, “Silly Papa!” her voice unabashed and not in the least put off. She nodded her head, enthusiastically committed to her story now. With a peal of laughter, she gestured at him excitedly as she proclaimed, “Yes, yes...like Mr. Frederickson!”

“What now?” Killian’s brow furrowed in confusion, not understanding the reference and thinking Hope meant a person in town he hadn’t met. He shot Emma a curious look, even as he asked, “Who’s that, Little Love?”

Emma however sputtered with mirth when she realized Hope meant the elderly Pixar character in the movie they watched a few nights back. Her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter, even as she bit her lip against the guffaw struggling to break free. Gaining control after several seconds, she managed to turn to her husband and elaborate. “The cartoon, Babe.... You know, with the house carried by balloons…?”

Her pirate’s eyes widened with surprised recognition, before his head fell forward in playful defeat. So then, he took her as much by surprise as Hope when his face suddenly shot back up as he lunged forward to tickle her wildly. “You take that back!” he threatened humorously. Soon the two of them were on the floor; Hope squealing, Killian growling, and the both of them tickling and pouncing as they rolled across the living room in a tangle of arms and legs. 

Eventually, they stopped to catch their breath, and Emma hauled both of them back up onto the couch with her. Lounging comfortably again, Emma mumbled against his cheek, “I hate to say it, but she has a point. All you really need are the hearing aids,” knowing all too well how it would rile her husband up again.

“That’ll be the day, Wife,” he muttered lowly, voice brushing against her ear in a way that made her shiver deliciously and drop all pretense of teasing. Then he was on her and tickling as mercilessly as he had done with Hope.

When she finally escaped and headed for the kitchen to find something for dinner, his pleased retort followed her from the room, “As you can see, I’m still more spry than that Frederickson fellow!”

And that night in their bed, Emma more than conceded that despite his complaints of the cold throughout the day, her pirate generated more than enough heat to keep them both warm until morning.

Tagging: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @tiganasummertree @thisonesatellite @effulgentcolors @lfh1226-linda @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89 @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling

[chenfordlove]

discoveries ch. 2

Thank you guys so much for the turn out for the first chapter! You guys were so nice with your comments, and I couldn’t wait to write more. This time it’s Angela’s turn to find out the secret, and I’m so happy with how this turned out. I’m hoping to get another chapter finished before I have to go back to work on Thursday! Hope you all enjoy!! And don’t forget! I’m pretty much always taking prompts :)

Also on: AO3 | FF.net

the best friend

Tim was running late, and if were anyone else, Angela wouldn’t be so worried. They had been running together every Saturday morning since Isabel had gone into the rehab and recovery center, and even when he didn’t feel his best, Tim was always at least on time, or more often than not, he beat her to their usual meeting spot. Maybe traffic is just worse this morning, Angela reasoned, though she knew it wasn’t true. The trail they ran on was outside the bustle of the city and not far from their respective houses. She thought about the date and couldn’t think of any significance as to why he would be running behind. Worry wasn’t usually her go to, and if something bad had happened, Tim would have called her, but when fifteen minutes turned to thirty, it was hard not to. It was a long shift yesterday. Maybe he overslept. She gave him another ten minutes to show up, and when they passed with no sign of him, she got in her car and headed in the direction of his house.

As she drove, Angela told her phone to call Tim. When the call went straight to voicemail, her brows furrowed more in confusion. Tim never let his phone die, and he never turned it off. Something bad was up; she could just feel it in her gut. Her mind wandered to the worst possibilities of Tim injuring himself home alone and not being able to reach his phone or a break in gone bad. She nixed the latter option; the idea of Tim being caught off guard by a burglar making her chuckle. Though, not answering his phone and being obscenely late by his standards was also out of character. When she pulled up across the street from his house, his truck was parked outside the garage and the front door was shut; nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She was starting to think oversleeping was the culprit more and more.

She knew where he hid his spare key, walking over to the post on the far side of his porch, moving the thermometer sensor to the side, the key nestled into a hole drilled behind it. Taking it in hand, she walked to the door and opened it as quietly as she could, closing it just the same once she was inside. Angela planned to secure his off duty weapon, then give him the rudest awakening she could think of for making her worry and wait so long. Making her way to the kitchen to get a bowl of cold water, Angela stopped in her tracks when she saw none other than Lucy Chen in the kitchen, dressed in an oversized Rams t-shirt and leggings, making breakfast. Lucy must have heard her. 

“That was fast. What did that little perv have to say for—” Lucy said, cutting herself off when she turned to see Angela standing there. Her face paled immediately. “An-Angela… I can explain.”

Angela couldn’t help but laugh at the situation. “I’ll bet you can.” Motioning for her to come up with whatever lame excuse she could, Angela crosses her arms, looking on amused.

“I’m…house sitting for Tim. He had to go out of town unexpectedly after his shift last night. Said he needed someone to keep an eye on the place.” Almost as if to help her out, Cojo came bounding in the kitchen, sitting at her feet. “And Cojo! He needed me to watch Cojo.”

Angela gave her a smug face, looking her up and down. “Uh huh. And is that your Rams t-shirt?” She asked, trying not to laugh even more at her friend’s lame excuse. They both knew whose shirt Lucy was wearing.

Lucy’s eyes widened as she looked down, as if completely forgetting that she was very obviously wearing Tim’s shirt, before she looked back up, trying to remain calm. “Oh yeah. I love me some football.”

Nodding her head slightly, Angela continued to try and go along with it for as long as she could without breaking. “Oh yeah? Who’s their quarterback?”

Angela could almost see Lucy think, oh shit, cogs turning behind her eyes as she tried to remember any team member that Tim might have mentioned in the last year and a half. She could see a vague idea come to her head. “Golf…”

Angela was ready to burst into laughter when the front door opened and shut loudly. She couldn’t wait for Tim to walk in and watch him squirm, too. They both heard his keys hit the bowl by the door. “I talked to the kid’s dad, and he’s not happy. I watched the kid delete the pictures myself. Heard his dad yelling as I walked out the door.” He had bypassed the kitchen and gone to the bedroom, obviously thinking she was still there. “Lucy?”

“In the kitchen,” she said with a squeak, leaning over the counter and putting her head in her hands.

“Are you okay? I promise I’ll get better blinds for the bedroom,” Tim said, seeing her distressed before his attention was pulled to the person on the other side of the kitchen, stopping him in his tracks. “Shit.”

“Shit is right. You were supposed to meet me at the trail an hour ago,” Angela said, holding up her watch. “I thought something bad had happened to you! You could have at the very least called to say you’d be late or that you weren’t coming at all.” She looked back over to Lucy before giving Tim a smirk.

“I forgot to charge my phone last night, and we’ve had a very dramatic morning.” Tim began to defend himself, before he stopped, looking back between the two women in his kitchen. “Wait. Why are you freaking out more about me being late than finding Lucy in my kitchen? You’re oddly calm about this.”

“Oh this? I’ve known about you two for months.” Angela looked at him as if it were obvious. “Actually, I think I’ve probably known since the beginning. It was the night Lucy found out you and Rachel had broken up. I mean, I knew it was only a matter of time before you two slipped up. Just never thought I’d walk in on anything.”

Lucy’s head popped up from where it had been resting in her hands. “Since the beginning? How the hell have you known that long?”

—

“He’s not out there yet, Mamá.”

“Well keep looking, mija! He’s out there every single day, without fail!” Her mother yelled from the kitchen. “Él es asqueroso!”

Angela rolled her eyes and looked out the window of her mother’s house, keeping a close eye on her neighbor’s house across the street. According to her mother, the neighbor would watch people from his window, his porch, his garage, occasionally even having a camera, taking pictures of especially the younger women around the neighborhood. Her mother didn’t have enough evidence to officially call the police yet, which Angela knew was why she’d been lured under the false pretense of a delicious breakfast to spy on said spying neighbor. Angela could feel her eyes rolling involuntarily as she continued peeking out the blinds.

Her mother came padding into the living room, steaming coffee cup in hand. “Just the way you like it.”

She couldn’t help but smile lovingly, taking the cup from her and taking a sip. Store bought or not, no one made anything quite as good as her mom. “Thanks.”

Pulling the blinds up just enough to be able to see unhindered as she took a seat next to the window, Angela spotted something else that caught her attention immediately. Just barely down the street sat what looked to be Lucy’s car. The young officer had left the bar in a hurry the night before after she’d accidentally let it slip that Tim had broken up with Rachel months ago. It wasn’t fully her fault. How was she supposed to know Lucy had no idea? Tim had rushed out not long after her, muttering a sarcastic thanks in her direction as he stomped toward the door. She had tried to call Tim to apologize, but every time she called, it would ring once before being sent to voicemail. She had sent Lucy a text but hadn’t received a reply from her either. Neither seemed to want to talk, and she understood that. It was curious to her that Lucy’s car would be parked on this street; Angela knew where she and Jackson lived. It was at least four blocks away, if not more. With Lucy’s luck, her classic car had broken down once again, leaving her to walk home.

Angela had other things to do than worry about than the two of them, though. Her mother needed her to keep an eye out for a supposed Peeping Tom, and that’s what she was trying to do before a familiar truck came up the road, pulling to a stop behind Lucy’s car. Not a couple of seconds later, Lucy appeared from the passenger side, laughing joyfully, wearing the same clothes from the night before. She moved to her car, unlocking the door and leaning in to pull the hood latch. A moment later, Tim stepped out of the driver’s side, tool chest in hand, to look under the hood. The biggest smile Angela had ever seen on him graced Tim’s face as he said something to Lucy that she couldn’t make out. Someone who didn’t know the pair would think they had just made up from the night before, but Angela knew better. The two had been dancing around each other long before Tim stopped being Lucy’s TO.

Tim sauntered up to Lucy, leaning down as Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him the best kiss possible when both parties couldn’t seem to stop smiling. If she’d seen two random people on the street being so affectionate, Angela would probably pretend to vomit. However, knowing the pair as well as she did, and the hardships they’d both gone through, together and apart, Angela felt her chest warm at the sight. They looked as happy as any couple she’d ever seen, and if anyone deserved some happiness, it was those two. Watching the two of them together, Angela decided she’d keep their secret for as long as they needed, even if they had no clue she even knew in the first place.

—

“Gotta be honest, though. I’m surprised you haven’t been caught by anyone else yet. I mean,” Angela chuckled, “you two are about as subtle as a brick to the face. It’s a good thing you don’t work around a bunch of detectives. Oh wait.”

Tim rolled his eyes, half sitting on one of the barstools next to his kitchen island. “We’re extremely professional at the workplace. This doesn’t get in the way of us doing our jobs. Ask yourself if you hadn’t known before, would you have guessed we were together.”

Angela knew the answer; in fact, she had been rather impressed with how professional they had kept themselves on the job. There had been several times in the last few months where one was in a sticky situation and the other wasn’t there to be their back up. They always kept to the priority of life code, looking out for civilians before themselves or others. “You’re right, but that doesn’t mean you can start to slack off.” Turning to Lucy, pointing to her and making her stand up straight. “You have only been a PO II for eight months. Dating a superior will haunt your career if you don’t do this the right way.”

“I know, and we have a plan,” Lucy said, walking over to Tim, moving under his welcoming arm to form to his side, like that was where she belonged. “Plus, he’s kind of worth it.”

Tim made a face at her, trying to hold back a laugh. “Only kind of?”

“I gotta keep your ego in check somehow, mister,” Lucy replied, her face practically glowing.

Angela couldn’t help but grin at the two as they basically forgot she was there. She knew how much the both of them had been through before coming together. It warmed her heart that the two could find happiness in one another after so much darkness and heartache. “You guys are so sweet, I could puke,” she joked, breaking their little moment.

“Tim Bradford is not sweet,” he countered, giving Angela a pointed look.

Lucy rolled her eyes, her hand resting at the bottom of his neck. “Yes, you are. Shut up.”

Tim started to open his mouth to say something before Angela cut him off. “As much as I’m sure this is going to turn into a tooth-rotting cute moment, I’m still going for a run. You’re still welcome to join me. You, too, Lucy, if you want.”

Lucy waved her off. “No, no. You two go on ahead. I need to go home and do laundry anyway.” Before stepping away from Tim, she leaned down to plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving Tim grinning at her. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” With that, Lucy grabbed her bag from the rack behind the door and gave Cojo a rub between the ears before closing the door behind her.

Angela turned to Tim, unable to stop her laugh at the smitten look on his face. “Damn, Bradford. You’ve got it bad.”

Tim looked back at her, shaking his head as he chuckled, standing from the stool. “She’s pretty great.” He knew he was unable to deny how he felt, seeming almost relieved not to have to hide it from another person. He turned to her, looking on sternly. “I trust I don’t have to ask you to keep this a secret?”

Angela shook her head, smiling happily at her friend. In some respects, he was her best friend, and after everything he had been through with Isabel and that heartache, she only wanted the best for Tim. She hadn’t been blind to the changes in Tim since the day she saw him kissing Lucy. He was less aggressive, wasn’t as quick to anger, and was even more considerate and sympathetic on the tough calls. “I’ve kept your secret for six months, Tim. I’m not about to blow it for you now. I take it she’s why you decided to not be a TO for this round of recruits.”

Tim shrugged, rubbing the top of Cojo’s head as he walked over at sat at Tim’s feet. “That’s part of the reason. I wanted to be able to have her back when I could. I also didn’t want to start teaching another rookie only to have a sergeant position open up and have to stick them with someone else.” He walked over to his fridge then, grabbing the bottle he took on runs beginning to fill it.

“That’s fair,” Angela replied before her voice got serious. “I’m sure I’m beating a dead horse. I have to warn you, though. I wouldn’t be doing my job as either of your friends if I didn’t. If it comes out before it’s appropriate, it’ll haunt her career. It may not follow you around, but it will follow her, no matter how you try to spin it. So, just be careful.”

Tim finally turned around, taking a sip of water. “That it?” He asked casually. He was letting Lucy’s words from earlier answer for him. You don’t have to worry about us, his eyes said.

“Pretty much. That and I’m happy for you two. You guys seem genuinely happy together. You both deserve it. Now,” Angela finished, rattling her keys in the air, “let’s go for that run. I’ll drive.”

Tim shook his head, chuckling at her as he followed her to the door. “I’m capable of driving myself to the canyon.”

“I don’t know about that. You might accidentally take a wrong turn and end up at Lucy’s place,” Angela jabbed, waiting for Tim as he licked his front door behind them, unable to hold back teasing him now that it was out that she was in the know. “By the way, what was the talk of a perv when I walked in?”

Tim shook his head, huffing in anger. Taking a seat in Angela’s car, he pulled a little too hard on the seatbelt, making it lock up. “The neighbor’s son was taking pictures of us through a broken blind on our bedroom window while we were…”

“Got it. Say no more,” she laughed, waving her hand at him before starting her car. Then his words registered even more. “Our bedroom? Damn, Bradford. You’ve got it bad.”

[fandom-necromancer]

1081+1088. Highly Professional

This story was prompted by an awesome anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Allen60

Sixty shifted through the multiple sensors his body had been equipped with. Zooming in he could see Captain Allen’s back of the head partly peeking through the blinds of his office. His infrared vision detected he hadn’t moved in a while and if he listened closely, he could hear tapping on the keyboard. From that sound alone he knew the man was using the backspace more intently than any other key. Allen was writing something. And he was growing increasingly frustrated. Before he could hack his way into the system to find out what exactly he was working on, he was interrupted in the most annoying way:

‘Hey, Sixty, how are you?’ ‘Fuck off, Connor.’ If he zoomed in enough, maybe he could get a glimpse on his screen from the reflection in the window… ‘So, good as always, huh? What are you staring at?’ The other RK800 bend forwards to try and get the same perspective as the younger android. ‘Oh, so we are spying on our superior? Do I sense something there?’ ‘I don’t know Connor, you tell me’, Sixty grumbled, interfacing with his terminal. That hack was too tempting to care for protocol. ‘Hmm, I would say you have a crush on him.’ The terminal produced an error sound as Sixty flinched at the words and turned towards the other android. ‘Excuse me? I’m not the one who allows his feelings to overcome him. It would be highly unprofessional and against protocol. And even if, the Captain surely has other things to worry about at the moment. His reports are sloppy, and his research is not as thoroughly as it used to be. He clearly has something else occupying his mind and knowing his professionalism, it has to be something serious.’ But Connor only grinned at him knowingly. ‘Oh, so you are worried about him? How cute!’ ‘No, I am not worried’, Sixty near exploded. ‘I simply try to keep an eye on the team to ensure the best results on future missions.’ ‘Sure, sure. That’s why you keep staring at Allen’s office only. Come on, you can tell me! It’s nothing to be ashamed about.’ ‘I don’t have to tell you anything, Connor’, he hissed. If there was one thing, he could bond with the RK900 over it was that Connor was annoying as hell. But, well, so was Nines in the end. Sixty was very content to stay at maximum distance from their desks, sitting in a completely different building across the parking lot. But of course, the other RK800 wouldn’t agree and stubbornly insist to come visit him.

‘Hmm, well then for the sake of ensuring everyone is at their best in future missions, why don’t you visit your Captain after work, hmm?’ ‘And just why would I do that? That is a violation of privacy and would be highly unprofessional as we are co-workers.’ But Connor didn’t falter: ‘But you could find out why Allen’s work is so sloppy. And helping him getting better would be beneficial to your work, wouldn’t it?’ ‘There is some… logic in your words’, Sixty pressed out between gritted teeth. He knew the android’s main goal was for him to find friends. Little did Connor know he didn’t need any. ‘Hey, we got the same brain, haven’t we?’ Sixty looked over to the office again and grumbled under his breath: ‘Yeah, only that some people know how to use it and not play pretend with a human.’ Connor ignored his words. ‘I would say pizza and beer would be a good way to infiltrate his house and start the investigation.’ He winked at him and pushed himself off the table. ‘Hey, not everyone is a fast-food-loving alcoholic!’, Sixty complained, trying to ignore whatever implications that wink suggested. ‘His favourite kind is Fungi!’, the RK800 called back to him, already on his way back, Sixties offense not even wavering his joyous tone the slightest.

-

The whole day had been overcast and by the time Sixty walked up to the small house pressed into the space between two others, it had started to pour. The small little droplets that had occasionally hit against him now was more of a constant stream that had him soaked through in minutes. Not that it mattered: his hull was completely waterproof, and he couldn’t get ill, but it let his hair stick to his head and his clothes to his frame. It destroyed all the effort he put into his perfect outer appearance and although Sixty had always hated admitting to having strong emotions, he hated it.

And not just the rain. He was about to invade a co-worker’s privacy with this, worse even, his superior’s privacy. It didn’t matter how well they got along and how much every friendly interaction made his pump whirr faster and his processor heat up a few degrees. If Allen had wanted this, he would have invited him already. This “worry”, as Connor had put it, was something extremely out of place. This was only him satisfying his curiosity, nosing into something that wasn’t meant for him, and still he rung the bell. ‘No, sorry, I don’t have-’, Captain Allen said, exhaustion tiring his voice as he opened the door. But he stopped as he saw the familiar face of his colleague. ‘Sixty?’ ‘I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza’, Sixty deadpanned, overlaying that awkward feeling with pure confidence. ‘I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.’ ‘Err… what?’ ‘Your performance at work has been sloppy at best and you are constantly absent-minded. Because I… care for you – you and the team of course – I wanted to make sure I did my part trying to help you. I brought food and socially accepted drugs to apologise for my breach in protocol and unprofessional behaviour.’ They stared at each other, Sixty forcing his face to stay neutral and Allen looking at him trying to decipher the androids unique way of saying one thing and meaning the other. Then he smiled and laughed. ‘Get over here, you doof. Did you decide to take a swim or did your overly advanced processor forgot to bring an umbrella? Come in, I’ll get you a towel.’ ‘I don’t nee-‘ ‘You will if you want to join me at the table’, the Captain interrupted him while closing the door behind the dripping android. ‘Just put this in the kitchen for now, okay?’

Sixty nodded and located the room to put down the pizza and beer on the counter. From behind him he could hear Allen talk to someone. ‘Look Newton! Look who came to visit!’ Sixty risked a look around the corner to see the man kneel in front of a Great Dane. As soon as the dog spotted him, there was a low woof and he ran for him. Unsure about what to do but fascinated nonetheless, he watched the dog stand in front of him looking up and wagging his tail. ‘For God’s sake, pet him already, I can’t look at this’, Allen chuckled as he walked past him to inspect the pizza-box. ‘Okay, how the hell do you all know what my favourite type of pizza is? I swear I never told anyone.’ ‘Connor’, Sixty was ready to tell on his fellow RK800 unit. ‘He told me at least.’ ‘How does- ah forget it. Thank you, Sixty. Should we go to the living room? I… I guess I don’t have anything for you though…’ ‘I don’t eat’, the android said, standing up from where he had been slobbered by the dog. ‘… Right.’

They sat down on a table for four and Newton retreated to his own bed near it. ‘So, you are worried for me?’ ‘I wouldn’t call it worry. And it’s for the whole team.’ Allen smirked. ‘I never heard you making house calls with the others.’ ‘What does it matter?’ ‘Oh, nothing. Just an interesting point I think.’ ‘If I am giving you a special treatment, then that’s because you are the most capable human I know. That’s all.’ ‘Hmm-hmm’, Allen hummed knowingly and Sixty cursed inwardly. It had technically been the truth. But not the full truth. ‘Well, then, what are you all not-worried about?’ Sixty swallowed. ‘Your reports are missing important details. All your work e-mails have more typos than usually in them. During training you aren’t as attentive. There is something on your mind and… I thought I could help.’

‘Did you… Did you hack into my computer?’ ‘Not yet’, Sixty admitted. ‘But I can see every data-transfer in our precinct as most is transmitted through the android network automatically.’ ‘That’s… a bit creepy.’ ‘Don’t worry, I corrected all your documents. No one knows.’ ‘You… Wow. Okay, I am mad at you, but I guess I also have to thank you? Why are you doing this?’ Sixty took to watching the dog finding a better position. He didn’t want to admit it himself, but maybe he had to. ‘I respect you. And I heard friends care for each other. I thought keeping you from other’s gossip and your own embarrassment would be what you wanted.’ ‘Well, yeah, I guess so…’ ‘Can I ask what has you so distracted, Captain?’

The man rubbed at his temple. ‘Oh it’s- It’s probably nothing, but my sister is at the hospital at the moment. I didn’t have the time to see her yet and I tell myself it’s not that bad because she is doing well, and we talked on the telephone already. But I still don’t feel too good about leaving her alone there.’ ‘Is it something serious?’, Sixty asked. ‘Oh, no, not really. She broke her arm in a stupid accident’, Allen explained. ‘But we are siblings and we had always been very close. I should have been there from day one or at least freed some time somewhere to go visit her. But I had always been that busy and forgot and-‘ ‘Then go visit her tomorrow’, Sixty suggested. ‘I can’t, there is a lot of work and the dead-lines are close. I wanted to finish that.’ ‘I could do that for you. Then you could go visit her.’ ‘You would do that?’, Allen asked surprised. ‘Why have an advanced android in your team and never make use of his abilities?’, Sixty followed up with another question. ‘Heh. Always thought you were the cold type, Sixty, not gonna lie.’ ‘I am what people expect. I won’t be as quirky as Connor, because I don’t want to, I have a thing for rules, and I am ambitious. Doesn’t mean I’m not looking after the people around me.’ ‘The people?’ ‘You.’ Sixty was now very focussed on the dog. He had already said too much.

‘Thank you, Sixty’, the Captain said and meant it. ‘I may have had the wrong picture of you, but if you could do that for me, I would be immensely grateful.’ Idiot, I would do anything for you, Sixty thought, but looked back up and nodded. ‘It’s no big deal, really.’ ‘Still, I have to thank you’, Allen insisted and leaned back. ‘Hey, now that you are here already… Would it be highly unprofessional if you stayed a while longer?’ The android thought about it and shrugged. ‘I think we passed professional as I walked in here.’ ‘Oh good, because there is this movie on later tonight and I thought maybe we could-’ Sixty remained a neutral face as the man rambled about the plot and thought back to Connor’s words.

Yeah, okay, maybe he was right. Maybe he had a bit of a crush on this man.

[losille2000]

Hoot and Howl, Chapter 2

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 2/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well… about that… RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks to everyone for being awesome with the first chapter back. Enjoy this one. The OFC’s name is pronounced Nay-shaw.

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 2

Nascha stood over the bubbling concoction in her cauldron, closing her eyes to the steam rising and curling pleasantly around her chin and cheeks. She’d spent too much time outside in the forest last night, and her skin still felt tight from the cold weather. The soothing warmth was just what her body needed, though it was not enough to rejuvenate the stores of energy she had depleted during the exercise. She only hoped she could make it until the end of the month and her next scheduled volunteer visit to Boston. Falling off the wagon now was not an option. Not without a suitable replacement for her extremely specific needs.

 A disgusted teenaged voice filled Nascha’s head then, drowning out her nagging thoughts. I hope you know I hate when you make that, Nae.

Nascha chuckled and glanced back at the fluffy feline lounging on the cat tree across the kitchen. The cat momentarily paused from painstakingly grooming her luxurious white fur—long enough to glare in accusation at the chuckling person.

 It smells like dog breath, the voice continued.

 “Well, yours smells like old tuna,” Nascha reminded, “so you have no place to talk.”

 Ugh, whatever.

 Ash loved her bored and disgusted teenaged one-liners. The cat could give any teenaged human a run for their money in that department, but there were certainly times when Nascha wished other people could hear it, too, just to understand the pain associated with listening to it all the time. Not that anyone would ever believe what they were hearing. They were more likely to check themselves into an institution than believe that it was possible for a cat to talk back to them. But cats did talk back. All animals did. They understood human languages just fine. The trouble was that Great Spirit had taken away the ability for the animals to respond in kind because of a terrible indiscretion long, long ago.

 Or so the story went.

 It didn’t really matter to her, because she still heard it. She heard all of it. The squirrels, the birds, the lizards and snakes… she heard them. This was her curse. 

 Nascha placed the large wooden spoon she’d been using into the ceramic holder on the stovetop, thinking once again how nice it was to have modern conveniences like electricity and gas to power her needs and keep a constant heat on her work. The ancient medicine woman who taught her this recipe while she’d still been living on the reservation had refused to cook it anywhere else but in a cauldron over an open fire. Maybe it ultimately changed the efficacy of the potion, not using the inherent energy of an open flame to create it, but Nascha was a modern witch. Modern witches innovated. After all, innovation was the only way she’d been able to survive off the reservation that had hidden her—and hurt her—for so long. She was pretty damn good at it all by now.

 A soft electronic chime drew Nascha’s attention away from her thoughts. She reached for her cell phone on the opposite counter as a notification alert popped up on the screen. The motion sensor on her front door had detected some type of movement. Clicking over to the video capture, she saw an old beat up pickup barreling down the driveway at a speed almost too high to take the curve into the clearing where her house sat. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, but whoever was driving clearly had an emergent purpose.

 She watched a moment longer as a very hairy and muddy man jumped out of the truck, reached inside, and withdrew a dog. Well, that explained the rushing in on a Sunday afternoon.

 “Where’s Smoke?” Nascha asked Ash.

 How should I know? Ash said.

 “Will you please find him?”

 Ash rolled over onto her back. If she had the ability to roll her eyes, she would have done that, too. He’s probably watching Star Wars again. Nerd.

 “I have to sit with this for another minute or two,” Nascha said, motioning to the pot. She did not want to waste the ingredients she’d used by overcooking it. Getting the same ingredients would require a visit to a grocery store or the local occult shop; store-bought ingredients never adequately replaced those she picked herself during her nightly exercises. “Please go see what’s wrong.”

I hate going out there, Ash responded. Humans are all idiots.

 “Ash…”

 The cat stood up and stretched languidly, clearly unconcerned, like a senator at an impeachment trial.

 Nascha grabbed the cat—carefully, of course—and set her on the ground. “I would like to remind you of our deal. I agree to feed you, catch small rodents for you, and let you sleep in a warm bed. In return you occasionally help me out around the clinic.”

 Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ash said, flicking her tail unhappily, but walking toward the door into the hallway. And if I don’t, you’ll turn me into a human. Blech.

 “And don’t you forget it!” Nascha called as the door swung shut, even though Ash knew it to be an empty threat. No one, magical or not, could change another creature into something else unless they were born with the genetic ability to do that. Ash was as feline as they came, and she would stay that way until she used all her nine lives.

 Nascha returned to her cauldron, but in her argument with Ash, she’d neglected it too long. It was now splitting and congealing into a gelatinous black goo giving off a putrid smell, not unlike a dog’s breath with periodontal disease. Just like Ash had said. She sighed heavily. “Well, so much for that.”

 She grumbled to herself and pulled the cauldron off the heat to cool down before she could clean it out and start over. Smoke finally appeared in a feathery flurry, landing on his perch.

 There’s a guy outside with a dog, Smoke intoned, but then made a chirping noise not native to an African Grey.

 Nascha looked at him, “I thought you were watching a movie?”

 Smoke bobbed his head and clicked his tongue before speaking aloud, “Alexa turn TV off.”

 The house became more silent and Nascha looked at her other housemate. “Go tell them to wait. Ash is already out there.”

 Was it wise to send her out? Smoke asked.

 Nascha shrugged. “I’ll be right there.”

 Smoke, who was quite a bit more dutiful than Ash, unless his favorite TV shows were on, immediately soared out of the room to take care of business. Nascha washed her hands and checked her appearance in a tiny mirror before she reached the door that led into the surgery suite. Ash sat there flicking her tail, annoyed and waiting to give a report.

 “So?”

 The idiot was attacked by a bear. Name’s Dodger.

 “Thanks.” Nascha frowned, reaching for the waiting room door. A bear? Hardly looked like a bear attack from the video image. But he wasn’t the first patient to exaggerate how he’d been injured, and he wasn’t going to be the last. “Stay close in case I need you.”

 Ash jumped onto the chair in the corner of the room and lifted her own paw to lick lightly. She didn’t care. And honestly, Ash wasn’t going to be much help anyway. Only the bipedal assistant that worked for Nascha Monday through Friday would be any help— seeing as it was Sunday, Nascha worked with what she had. Because she was innovative… not just as a witch, but as a veterinarian. Still, this emergency would be the first true test of her weekend “help.” She didn’t get a lot of emergencies out here in the middle of nowhere.

 Nascha breathed in deeply and let it out as she opened the door to survey the situation before her. She swept her attention to the pathetic looking brown and white dog, the bloody rag around his paw, and the human male who looked completely beside himself. By way of introduction, she said, “I’m so sorry! I was in the middle of something that couldn’t be put down.”

 The hairy, mud-caked man looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. Even so, his spirit gave the room a frenetic energy like a geyser bubbling and about to blow. Everyone knew it was about to happen, could sense it, but it was the sickening anxiety and bated breath before the eruption that bothered her. She’d never felt it to this degree.

 “My dog, he—”

 She swooped into action, flicking her eyes down to Dodger. She hummed and reached for him. “Let me take him back and have a look.”

 “Can’t I go back?” The man asked, reluctantly handing the dog over to her.

 She cradled the dog to her chest; Dodger didn’t struggle as she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay, Dodger.”

 Dodger looked up at her as he snuggled into her arms and said in the most delightful old-time Southern drawl, How y’all know my name?

 “You look as white as a ghost,” Nascha said then to the man, ignoring the canine’s drawling voice. She got it. This dog very clearly meant a lot to the guy, but she had procedures. And her procedures included not giving someone a reason to call an institution when she started talking to animals. “You need to sit down and calm down. You’re not going to be any help to your dog or to me if you’re freaking us both out during an exam. Let me look at the injury and stop any active bleeding. Then we’ll talk.”

 Nascha did not wait for approval and swept back into the surgery where she set Dodger down on the metal exam table. “Dodger, what’s your human’s name?”

Chris, he responded, big brown eyes meeting hers. Y’all really understand me, don’t ya?

She chuckled. “Yes, I do. Now. Were you really attacked by a bear?”

 Dodger whined and shifted just enough to hold out his injured paw. It was terrible, Doc. He was fixin’ for a fight.

 Nascha carefully unwrapped Dodger’s paw to find that the bleeding had stopped, and under all the mud, a long laceration across the side of the paw consistent with a tear of some kind originating from his dewclaw… but definitely not from a bear fang or claw. “If a bear had done this, you would have lost your paw.”

 I’m tellin’ y’all. A huge brown one!

“Do I need to ask Chris?”

Dodger whined again. After some hesitation, he looked away and moaned forlornly. Fine! A fish jumped and smacked me in the face. I fell.

Nascha laughed. “And?”

I dunno. It happened when I fell off the rock into the river.

“Alright,” Nascha said. “Do you think it’s safe to call your human in?”

Nah, I reckon he’s ‘bout as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now.

She couldn’t hold in her laughter at his expression. How had a Southern dog gotten all the way up here to Massachusetts? His owner did not have the same slow drawl. In fact, he’d sounded distinctly Bostonian in the few words they’d exchanged in the waiting room. “How about I get it all cleaned up and stapled, then call him in?”

 How can y’all understand me?

 Nascha did not have time to explain the ins and outs of her abilities. Though this wound was not life threatening, it did need attention sooner rather than later. “That’s not what I asked.”

 “Um… excuse me?”

 Both she and Dodger froze, turning their attention to the doorway. The door remained closed, but judging from the voice, he was directly on the other side of it. “Yes?”

 “May I please see my dog?”

 Nascha exchanged a look with Dodger, who then laid back on the table, resigned to not getting an answer right away. “If you promise not to pass out.”

 “I can handle a little blood,” he remarked as he stepped into the room.

 She noticed, quite suddenly, that he took up a lot of physical space. More than she had realized out in the waiting room. He wasn’t overly tall, but at least six foot, he was taller than her. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. And he was a mess, covered in blood, mud and likely freezing. His brain, however, had not really noticed that last bit because he was so worried about his dog; she could still feel the turbulent energy rolling off him. He was in shock, or pretty near to it; now it was a matter of two patients, rather than one.

 “The good news is that he’s fine,” she said. “Bad news is that I need to do major clean up and staple his leg.”

 “Nothing broken? He’ll be okay?”

 She nodded. “He tore his skin, mostly. Once I get it cleaned up, I’ll have a better picture of everything, but it otherwise seems fine. I can do a radiograph if you would like to make sure nothing’s broken. But from palpating it, I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. And Dodger didn’t complain.”

 The man’s whole demeanor deflated. He crumpled onto the bench beside Ash, who had been as silent as a dormouse through the whole process. “Thank god. I thought—”

 “I am also worried about you,” Nascha added, coming around the table to crouch down in front of him. She set a comforting hand on one of his he had rested on his knees, but instantly regretted the decision. Touching humans was always a risk for her. This was different, though. A different she couldn’t quite fathom. “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine.”

 “You don’t look it,” she replied, securing her hold on him. He turned his palm up, grasping her fingers like they were a tether to reality. She noted that his were mostly soft hands—office worker hands—but there was a degree of roughness there that suggested he might have hobbies that took him away from a desk. His fingers were long, the nails bitten but not to the extent that they were horrible to look at. As a matter of fact, they looked like very pleasing hands and she had the brief irrational thought that they probably took great care of whomever he loved.

 She’d held a lot of hands in her time, but most of those were gnarled and old, at the end of their journey when their owners asked her for assistance. His, in contrast, were vital. Alive. There was nothing sick or dying about him. Freezing cold from the elements, yes, but strong and alive, nonetheless.

Nascha wanted to hold on longer, not least of all because she now felt his frenzied energy oozing into her skin and up her arm, curling and mixing with what was left from her last trip to Boston.

It had been too long since she’d fed. The exercise in the woods last night had taken too much out of what little she had left. And he… he was potent.  

She wanted to moan in delight as his energy began to fill the empty voids within her, but clamped her lips shut at the last second.

That would have been embarrassing.

The man released a shuddering breath and laugh-groaned when he looked down at himself, the tension releasing from his broad shoulders. Slowly, he turned his attention up to hers. Soft blue-gray eyes with the longest eyelashes blinked back at her. They were the kindest blue eyes she’d ever beheld. “I am a little cold.”

 She finally succeeded in pulling her hand out of his, severing the connection, reluctant to let go. It would have been so easy to hold on for longer. The consequences of that, though? She shuddered at the thought. She’d made a promise to herself a long time ago to never take without asking—or being asked—first. Technically, she’d already broken it.

 “How about a blanket, a fire, and some coffee? That is, if you feel comfortable enough sitting in my living room while I work on Dodger.” 

Never mind that she did not feel comfortable with his intrusion. Having someone around meant she had to watch what she said and what she did. It was a mental load she wasn’t prepared to handle. Still, the words had come tumbling freely from her lips. She silently hoped he would decline and instead go back to the regular waiting room.

 He surprised her by saying, “I would love it.”

 Nascha eased back up to her full height, doing a quick mental survey of her living quarters. Had she left anything out from her work earlier that would be too difficult to explain? The cauldron was definitely an issue, but it was close enough to Halloween. She could explain it away as experimenting on something for decorations or a Haunted House or something, though she never decorated for the holiday because she didn’t celebrate it.

 “Good. Let me put Dodger in a kennel and I’ll get you set up,” she finally said as she turned back to the dog.

 Dodger yipped at her. I don’t need to be put away.

 Nascha shook her head. “You’ll be fine for a little while, Dodger.”

 No, I will not.

 “He’s fine,” the man, Chris, said through a shaky laugh. “He hides out in his kennel back home when he wants to get away from me.”

 Yankee traitor, Dodger mumbled.

 “Does he want to, uh, get away from you a lot?” Nascha asked by way of conversation.

 She began to scoop the canine back into her arms, but Chris held out a hand to stop her. “I can carry him.”

 Nascha picked up Dodger anyway. “I’m stronger than I look…follow me.”

 She pushed her way out of the exam room and into the back work area of her home. The previous owner—also a veterinarian—had built this addition on long ago to house his country practice. It consisted of one exam room, one clean room for surgeries, and a small lab equipped for only the most basic of pathology tests. The stainless-steel kennels lined one wall of the lab.

“You have a nice little setup back here,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, not elaborating. She could say that the previous owner had given it to her as a gift, but then she’d have to explain why he had given it to her. And that would be impossible to explain without scaring the shit out of anyone. Even though Dodger’s owner had calmed down considerably since she had held his hand and siphoned off his frenzy, she did not want to create another problem that would bring the anxiety back.

She couldn’t be trusted to hold his hand again. Next time, she might not be able to let go.

Nascha turned her thoughts to the heavy animal in her arms. She cooed softly at Dodger as she placed the dog inside a clean kennel on top of a thin cushion. On top of him, she wrapped a large towel to help him conserve some warmth before she could get back. Dodger accepted her kindness by licking her wrist and letting out a heaving sigh. He didn’t say anything else.

 “You’re sure he’ll be fine?” Chris asked as she closed the door.

 “In two weeks, you won’t even know there was a problem,” she said. “Except for the hair that will still be growing back.”

 “Okay,” he breathed out.

 Nascha gave him a small smile that she hoped was comforting and set her hand on his back, in the middle of his flannel-covered shoulders. It was a familiar move she wouldn’t normally have made, but he seemed appreciative of it. Maybe she was, too, now that she could feel the hard sinew beneath the damp flannel covering his torso. Office worker hands or not, the man clearly did many physical things with his body.

 “How about we get you warm now?” she asked.

 He nodded and shivered. It was enough of an answer for her, as she motioned for him to follow her down the hallway toward the living portion of the house.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

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

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

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

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

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

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

“Oh, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He snaps his teeth slightly, turning away.

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

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

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

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

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

“Disgusting, disgusting, revolting!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s hard getting Dok up the stairs.

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

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

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

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

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

He has to get them out of here.

He has to get them all out of this place.

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

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

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

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

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

Well, then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? It’s Blue, Dok.”

“No… med - med k-kit…”

Blue draws back, alarmed. “You hurt?”

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

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

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

“You’re not, you’re not! Dok!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trick doesn’t answer, staring.

“Hey,” repeats Blue.

“Will you crush me too?” asks Trick.

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

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

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

Trick cries against his chest.

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

“Y-yeah.”

“I won’t go anywhere.”

“Okay.”

“We can all sleep up here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

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

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

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

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

Marvin, though - Marvin stays awake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His eyes cloud over slightly.

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

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

Marvin stills, staring at the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anti pauses, thinking.

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

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

“I’ve put them through worse.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pats proudly at his blankets and clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blue startles. “Have you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anonymous asked: You gonna eat anything, Dok?

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

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

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

Trick sighs.

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

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

“Well, how often does he get upset?”

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

“Not often,” he manages finally.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He curls in on himself, face blank.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The air burns with tension.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Trick, listen to me,” he begins.

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

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

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

“No, I don’t want you to get hurt!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Anti.”

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

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

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

And he vanishes out the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right, right - that’s a good idea.”

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

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

As if false hope and warm skin can save him.

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

“Doktor - ”

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

“Doktor - ”

“Don’t make - ”

“Henrik!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

Trick pauses.

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

He imagines Anti.

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

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

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

The dogs seem to have moved away, however.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think we’re okay,” murmurs Marvin.

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

“I think… I’m starting to think…”

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vines curl around his boots.

“But how can I leave them?”

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

Red doesn’t turn his face to you.

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

A whisper.

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

He curls slightly in on himself.

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

He stares at the wall.

“It isn’t possible.”

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

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

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

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

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

He clenches his fists, panting through his teeth.

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

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

Red nods slowly. His face settles and sets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s time to go.

He’s bringing whoever he can with him.

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

Red chokes, his eyes flickering wildly up to Marvin.

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

Red stares back, exhausted.

The chains are in the closet beside him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Red?

Red is the attack dog.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marvin laughs and sobs at the same time. “That sounds wonderful! Can you imagine, just the two of us? Jackie, do you remember - when it was you and me and - and - someone else, I can’t remember, someone who loved us - you slept right across the hall from me and we would stay up so late every night, all three of us were noctural, ha. We’d be running around in the city, just the two of us, you were never far from my side - ”

“Why can’t we be like that and be Anti’s too?” cries Red. “You’re trying to run away from me!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Come up with something! There has to be some cliché that connects to you guys. Do you remember anything stupid you did together? Or remind Red of how you had his back, even after the reset!

“We always looked after each other, whenever anything came to hurt us we defended each other! That’s how we came out of the first time Anti attacked, side-by-side, back-to-back, together - ”

“We were wrong!” screams Red.

Doktor is awake by now, scrambling into the corner, terrified. He doesn’t know what to do.

“We were wrong to live like that! Wrong to fight him! It would have hurt less to surrender then!”

“Surrender then,” snarls Marvin. “Give up everything that we are, instead of letting him take it from us? You were never a coward, Jackie. Remember yourself!”

Anonymous asked: doktor, wake up and help will you?

Doktor throws his hands up, stressed out of his mind. “What do you want me to fucking do? I want Trick, I want Trick, where is he, why did Anti take him away from me?”

florenceisfalling asked: talk about trick's kid, hunter! surely you all have shared memories with him. does that help you remember? talk about your powers, the plants you can grow. what kind did you used to grow, where did you keep them? talk about watching movies together and sharing dinner and going on trips. think!

“Do you remember swinging our nephew back and forth between the two of us, laughing like nothing would ever hurt us?”

“Be quiet!”

“Do you remember blue magic and magnolias sprouting up through the ground because we finally had a third brother?”

The chain swings, swings, hard, and Marvin throws himself back against the wall to avoid the blow. Red’s face is setting, cold with the rhythm of a good fight, blocking everything else out.

“I love you so much, please - ”

Red darts forward like a mongoose, grabbing Marvin and flipping him over his waist. Marvin hits the ground hard but takes the blow resiliently, well used to his brother’s strength. Strange, the memory waking up in him - We have fought a thousand times, my brother, but I thought that was play, not practice.

Red strikes at his face and Marvin throws himself aside, only to be grabbed by the hair and dragged up to his knees. Crying out, he scrambles at his short hair and stares up at his brother, finding tears in his eyes.

“Stop talking, please,” begs Red. “You won’t convince me - I made peace with my own darkness a long time ago. I’m not a good person, Blue.”

“You could be,” answers Marvin.

“You don’t know what I’ve done. I wish Anti had left my brain so blank I forgot the sight of my own face.” He grabs Marvin’s wrist and holds up the chain.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, Marvin is going to take care of you and trick, but he needs your help right now. You have to help him calm Red down.

“Red, Red!” cries Doktor, reaching out for him. “What’s happening, please stop!”

Red looks up, alarmed by the sound of his distress, and Marvin takes the opportunity to attack, grabbing Red’s wrist. Red screams as heat races through his hand and arm and he drops Marvin, staggering away, clutching at his burned hand.

“Stop, stop!” cries Doktor, curling in on himself. “Stop, don’t hurt each other!”

florenceisfalling asked: red, listen to him. please listen to him, don't try to fight.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” screams Red, beginning to hyperventilate.

nikkilbook asked: Come on, Astrifer. Find yourself

“I’m so tired!” screams Red. “I don’t know who I am, but I don’t want to be him anymore! I want to go home! I want to go home! I want to go home! Anti, please come back! I’m afraid, master, I’m afraid!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Dok, you need to calm him down. Calm Red down or y'all are going to get hurt!

Doktor staggers to his feet and reaches out to grab Red, pulling him protectively away from Blue.

“Henrik, keep away from him,” pants Marvin.

His eyes have begun to glow through the shadows of the basement.

“Go get Trick and tell him we are leaving. Let me handle him.”

Doktor clutches tighter to Red, backing, backing away.

spicydanhowell asked: red, chain him up, shut him up, and then you can rest. it's going to be okay. just do as you're told and you'll be safe

“Yes, I have to stop him, I have to stop him, I have to keep him safe - ”

He drops his hands from his hair and shoves Doktor towards the stairs. “Go wait upstairs,” he commands. “Now, little one.”

Doktor knows where he lies in the hierarchy and he is obedient. He turns to run up the stairs - but can’t help but pause halfway up, panting, praying they won’t hurt each other.

“Marvin, stand down,” orders Red, straightening up.

“Fuck you!” shouts Marvin. “Fuck you, Anti!”

Anonymous asked: Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh no... ok, think carefully, Marvin! How can you convince Jackie? He's first and foremost the protector of his brothers right now, right? Including Anti. Maybe you can swing it like if you all leave, Anti is safer because he doesn't have to watch out for you all? It might be better to get Jackie away while still loyal to Anti so you can work on helping him back to himself safely. And if you have to run, run, ok? You only have so much time while Anti is distracted.

“Jackie, listen to them, listen to - ”

“I can’t! You know that!”

“Just for one fucking second, Jackie, listen to me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Marvin screams rage, striking his hand against the wall and leaving a black mark upon its surface.

florenceisfalling asked: trick, you might have to come downstairs and lend a hand. things aren't going well between the boys.

“Wh-what?” he stammers.

You find him and Dapper awake, sitting at the side of the bed, curled up between blankets together. They look like they were having a good time, even though Dapper is pale and wan.

“What’s going on? I can’t leave puppy’s side. Is… is Doktor okay?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Guys, come on. Work through this TOGETHER. You're BROTHERS.

“That is not my brother!” howls Marvin. “That is just the shell that Anti left behind! You killed my Jackie! You killed him! You killed my best friend!”

Blue light explodes through the dungeon like a flash of lightning. Red falls back, shocked by the onslaught of light and color, overwhelming.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Screw it. Do what you need to, blue dude.

Marvin surges forward like a thunderstorm. He is faster than Jackie, slighter and more coordinated; he grabs his injured wrist out of the air and squeezes, eyes burning. Red yelps and drives his knee up into Marvin’s stomach, sending him reeling back.

“I’m more powerful than you are,” hisses Blue, fire burning along his fingers, roses snarling their way out of the concrete floor of the basement. “You really want to keep dancing, love?”

“I’m not afraid of you or death,” replies Red coldly, picking up his chain.

Anonymous asked: Dok, maybe see if you can get all the way upstairs, with Trick and Dapper? The basement seems very ugly, you might want to get further away.

“Wh-why won’t they stop?” moans Doktor, covering his face with his hands. “M-make them stop.”

Anonymous asked: Didn't doktor go back up the stairs? So yeah I'd say he's relatively okay

Trick gets up from the blankets, leaving Dapper with a pat on the head, and makes his way to the top of the stairs, clutching his gun tight.

“Deutsch?” he calls, scared. “It’s Trick, I’m right here. Everything okay?”

“Trick,” returns the familiar voice, and Trick’s blood lights up with adrenaline at the fear there. “Trick, Trick. I want this to stop.” He pulls himself to his feet and drags himself to the stairs.

Anonymous asked: No Henrik/Dok don’t go upstairs!!! Please don’t go up there, Trick will shoot anyone who goes up the stairs!! (An anon and nikkilbook sent similar warnings and were added)

Whimpering, Doktor falls back down at the bottom of the stairs, his grief tangible from fourteen steps away. “I can’t even go to my twin? I want to go lie down in the nest and be safe.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, take Dapper downstairs, you won't be leaving him, but the others need you.

“Wh-what? Anti told me to stay up here! I’m supposed to be protecting him!”

Frantic, he glances back towards the room, where Dapper’s head is poking out of the door, his eyes wide and curious.

Anonymous asked: HELL YEAH, KICK HIS ASS, MARV!

Blood-strike, fury-smell like electricity in the air. Marvin lashes out like a panther, a clawed hand reaching for Red’s face, remembering the taste of his own power.

Red kicks at his knee, sending him to the ground, and grabs him by the throat. Marvin shrieks loud enough to disorient Red, beginning to feel nauseous from the thousand sensations and emotions bearing down on him. He drops Marvin and his brother is up again, leaving a blow in his stomach, sending him reeling back, gagging -

He thinks he hears something like static, but Anti is not close enough to stop this.

Anonymous asked: Jesus christ, Anti only leave for a bit and everything goes to shit

Dapper crawls up into his bed, afraid, and closes his eyes, praying to his brother for him to come back soon.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Trick, Dok is trying to come upstairs. DO NOT SHOOT.

“No, no, don’t,” Trick begs, his hands shaking around the gun. “Don’t, Dok, Anti told me to shoot and I - I will. I don’t know if you’re you. Just stay down there, bro. It’s going to be okay.”

Anonymous asked: The three little ones, calm down. It's okay. Blue is having a little trouble settling in, so he's a bit angry right now. Red is handling it. Trick, can you bring Dapper to the top of the stairs, and Doktor, you can sit at the bottom, maybe bring some blankets from the nest? Then everyone is following orders, everyone is safe, and everyone is together. Anti will come when he can to fix it, and you three won't be in trouble.

“There’s some sense,” breathes Trick, setting down his gun. “Dok, I’ll be right back.”

He returns to the room and approaches Dapper, who watches him trustingly - this isn’t the first time he’s been handed over to an older brother’s care, and he’s used to being casually ordered around, so he doesn’t even flinch when Trick scoops him up, blankets and all, laughing a little, and carries him over to the top of the stairs. Trick sits with his feet on the last stair and Dapper mimics him, sitting against his shoulder, rubbing his face, starting to feel better.

“There we go.” Trick smiles and sighs out a shaky breath. “We’re all okay, right? We’re all okay. Red is handling it. No worries. I got my brothers. We’re all okay.”

Anonymous asked: marvin!!!! blue!! no! anti hurts his brothers. you are not like anti!! stop hurting jackie!

“Maybe I am! He washed me away, remember? I don’t even know who Marvin is! And I certainly don’t know who you are, Red!”

Red pants hard, staggering away from him, but Marvin keeps coming.

spicydanhowell asked: trick, don't move, doktor, lie down and close your eyes. just breathe, red... stay with us ok? you're gonna be ok. you're the big brother.

“I’m not the big brother,” he groans. “I haven’t been in a long time. Just the commander. Just Anti’s alpha dog. I’m just fooling myself. I want this to stop - stop - stop.” He grips at his hair, moaning.

nikkilbook asked: Red. The other day, when you were so overwhelmed. Blue knew what to do. Even when you were young, did Anti ever do that for you? Or did he just leave you to figure it out yourself?

“It’s not Anti’s fault he can’t help me when I get like this,” chokes Red, slamming against the wall. “Not his fault I can’t t-take this much sensation - not his fault the boy made him like he was a monster, with the shrieking and the glitching, the color and the pain - I want him to come home, please!”

Anonymous asked: STOP!! You're just going to hurt each other, and if you keep going Anti is just gonna punish everyone!

“Let’s be honest!” shouts Marvin. “We’re already fucked anyway!”

He swings a hand into the air and the rosebushes explode like a wall of thorns, crawling up Red’s legs. He screams as they bite into his calves, and a low sob chokes its way from Marvin’s throat, backing away from the sight of his own power.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he gasps. “It has to be like this.”

musical-in-theory asked: Red you are a fantastic person making the best out of a really shitty situation. You don’t have to do this. For once you have control over what you do right here, right now. What’ll you choose, hero?

“No, no,” sobs Red, thorns growing up his body. “Look what I’ve become. Does this look like a hero to you? I can’t even save my own twin from himself.”

Marvin is backing away, distressed. He waves his hand again, trying to get the roses to stop rising, but they don’t answer him.

Anonymous asked: red. listen to blue. if you don't, anti will torture him for hurting you. he'll torture you for not succeeding. and he'll continue to torture all of you, over little things and big things, for the rest of your lives. this is your chance to protect your brothers.

“He’ll torture me if I stay, torture me if I go.”

“No,” cries Marv, waving his hand again, increasingly frantic. “That’s not true. We can keep each other safe!”

spicydanhowell asked: he's injured, red. he can't fight you. get him under control or anti is going to hurt you much worse than blue ever could... i don't want that to happen to you red... just keep him quiet and keep him safe until anti comes back.

“Please,” whispers Red. He tears with shaking hands at the rose thorns on his chest, struggling to breathe. “Please. Let’s do that. Blue, Blue. Marvin. Just st-stay with me. Please. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, fuck,” pants Marvin, reaching forward to tear at the thorns. Blood blooms on his hands, and the roses keep coming. “Don’t say that, don’t…”

nikkilbook asked: But is here really safe? How is this better than out there? How is sleeping above a dungeon and below a torturer safe? How is starving yourself to keep them fed safe? If the only way you can keep them protected is to beat them to keep them in line, how on earth is that better than even the slightest chance at escape?

Red bursts into sobs, collapsing. Marvin cries out as he falls into the thick carpet of thorns, reaching out to grab him, tearing his own arms up.

“I hate living like this,” admits Red, clutching at his brother’s hands.

“I know,” chokes Marvin. “I know you do. Oh, fuck, my poor big brother.”

“I can’t breathe!”

“Calm down, calm down! It’s okay, Jackie, it’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Marvin has never once told you that you have to earn his love or trust. He's giving it to you because he cares about you and will never stop caring about you. Anti is the only one with limits because he doesn't care about you. He can't. Go with Marvin. Marvin will help you no matter what! You have to let him

“Yes, yes,” Marvin pants, pulling Red up from the thorns. “I - I shouldn’t have done this, I’m sorry, I love you, I love you.”

“You’re going to leave me alone.”

Marvin closes his eyes tight.

“Yes,” he whispers. “Unless you come with me.”

loganandoli asked: Red. No, Jackie. Do you remember the first time you ever saved someone? Be it a bank robbery, a mugging, anything. Do you remember their wide eyes and smiles when they realized a hero has come to rescue them? Do you remember the feeling of joy and pride to know that you saved so many people? That you left a permanent mark of safety on your home? If you can remember any of that, realize that Anti is making you do the exact opposite of what you have been working on doing for so long.

“I remember my brothers, sitting against my chest, around my feet, under my arm, trusting me to protect them… now look what’s become of them…”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Go ahead marvin get angry use the power you were given

“I shouldn’t have done this,” Marvin sobs. “You called me kind, I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I’m sorry.”

nikkilbook asked: Who cares what a hero looks like. You’re Jackie. That’s all that matters.

Marvin yanks him out of the thorns, and the roses choke and die, having served their purpose to him. They collapse together at the foot of the stairs, panting hard, clutching each other’s arms.

Clutching each other tight.

Marvin’s heart is shaking like it will shatter. Red cries, ashamed but too tired to care.

“Please,” he begs. “Let me save you.”

“You’ve forgotten what salvation is,” whispers Marvin.

He moves forward and knocks their heads gently together. They breathe in sync, clutching at each other’s sleeves.

“I love you,” Marvin mumbles, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. But we don’t have time for this, my friend. I’m going, now. Are you coming with me, or will you stay?”

“It doesn’t matter,” murmurs Red, lying against the floor, exhausted. “We can’t get away.”

“I can’t try to convince you any longer. Choose.”

Red stares up at him. Stares at you. Stares at his own scarred, burnt, wretched wrists.

“You’re the one with a choice to make,” whispers Jackie, drawing back. “I can’t get up, I need time to rest, and I know that even if I want to go with you now, Anti will make me Red again when he catches us. And he will, Marvin. He will catch us. So choose, Blue - Stay with me and we can look after each other, even in a place like this. Or go. I won’t fight you.”

Marvin stares at him. Red stares back.

“But we will never see each other again,” he finishes softly.

He closes his eyes. Leaves the choice in his brother’s hands.

Marvin is gone the next time he opens his eyes.

Jackie McLoughlin smiles, laughs, and swallows hard, letting his head fall against the bloodied floor, tears dripping steady from his starry eyes. He waits patiently to be Red again. He’s never a hero for long.

Anonymous asked: Oh, Jackie. :'( You're breaking my heart, man. But I know what an impossible situation you're in. I know you're doing what you can in the aftermath of everything Anti's put you through. I recognize all your bravery and strength. I recognize all your gentleness and love. And know that even now, and even if Anti makes you Red again, and no matter what, you are wholeheartedly and entirely a hero to your brothers and to all of us. This is not how you will end.

Jackie stares up at you, a smile flickering across his lips, and then grief again, and then joy, and then…

Tired, tired, tired.

“I’m sorry for breaking your heart,” he tells you, low and earnest. “Thank you for being here with me. I’m very… tired of… of being alone.”

Blood runs sluggishly from his wrist and his legs. He shakes, pants, cries soft and quiet.

musical-in-theory asked: Jackie we will never give up on you. Is there anything you want to tell us or even Red while you’re still you?

“Oh, what a thought,” he murmurs. “A good idea. But my head is full of cotton just now. If you would please just… just try to keep him company.”

Jackie lays his head down on the ground. “Doesn’t matter who a person is all alone, you know… we are the people we love, and the people who love us.”

His voice trembles.

“And I am no one at all.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Be strong, Red....you will get through this.

“Forgive me,” he says.

So quiet you can barely hear him.

Something drips slowly nearby. His limbs have gone very still. His mouth is dry and empty.

“I think I’m going to sleep now,” he mumbles, closing his tired eyes. “I think I’m going to sleep. Thank you… forgive me.”

cest-mellow asked: marvin can’t you carry him? don’t you have a spell that can make jackie easy to take with you?? don’t leave him there!!

“Please, don’t say that! He made his choice, I - please, if you beg me, I would stay with him, and I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! Even if I love him! Even if I can’t bear to leave him alone! Oh, please, don’t tell me the truth. He made his choice and even if I could carry him, his heart would not come with me.”

Marvin is crying, but it does not matter. He tears up the stairs, his heart beating hard in his chest.

“Now I can only hope to get myself and my little ones free, whichever of them we can convince to come with us.”

The screen glitches softly at the corners, a harsh buzz rising in your ears.

“Anti is coming,” whispers Marvin, taking a deep breath. “We go now, and pray to God that we can get away. I don’t care about the chances anymore. I’m not going to give in. We’re going. We’re going. We’re running, right now. And I am getting my brothers away.”

The buzzing reaches a horrible shriek and your whole screen bursts into glitching. Across the screen, those all-too-familiar green words are flickering.

“Ĭ̢̜͝ w̧̙̝̲̓̔̾͡ĭ̢̜͝l͈̯̾̀l͈̯̾̀ n͕̰̳̏͝͡e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟v̨̖̪͔̋̌̋̈́e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟ṙ̻ l͈̯̾̀e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟t͙́ t͙́h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉t͙́ h̫̜̓̂á̘͉̉p̠͖̠̈́͋p̠͖̠̈́͋e͎̫̻͕͒͒̑̃̊͟n͕̰̳̏͝͡.”

 End Section Five of Chapter One.

Find the masterlist for this chapter here.

[hopefulfestivaltastemaker]

September 13, 2020

My weekly roundup of things I am working on. Topics include wildfires, exotic energy sources, speculative energy sources, the Biden housing plan, and creative outlets.

Wildfires in Oregon

Oregon, along with the rest of the West Coast, has been in the news for devastating wildfires that are still ongoing. This is certainly the worst I have experienced, much worse that the 2017 fires in California. Both Oregon and California are having their worst seasons on record.

In Oregon, it started last Monday, when a strong (and unseasonably early) east wind came over an already dry state, drying the air further and spreading fires rapidly. The Portland metro area experienced sporadic bad air quality on Monday and Tuesday, and it has been consistently bad since Wednesday. Today is no noticeable improvement. The weather forecast is for clouds on Monday and some rain on Tuesday, which should finally bring about some improvement.

So far there have been dozens of deaths in the West and several dozen more people unaccounted for and significant property damage. My guess is that most of the damage will be harder to see: the impact of the poor air quality on people who are already vulnerable. These events bring about yet more disruption in a region that has already been reeling from the pandemic, economic hardship, and civil unrest.

I made a facetious remark on Twitter about solar radiation management, but I really have been struck at how much the weather has cooled down. The temperature is at least 20 degrees (F) cooler than it should have been, due to soot particles reflecting sunlight. In my neighborhood, the light-sensitive streetlights are on during the day. I can look directly at the Sun without hurting my eyes. Needless to say, I will need to be convinced that any solar radiation management scheme will not significantly harm air quality before I will believe it’s a good idea.

If anyone is actually reading this, I would implore you not to use the fires merely as a talking point for your pet climate policy. This is something that irritates me greatly. In the immediate term, we need relief and a stronger firefighting force. In the medium term, we need better forest management practices. Greenhouse gas mitigation helps only marginally in the long term. Don’t try to tell me that building a bike lane in New York City is the solution we in the West are looking for. Once the fires are extinguished, most climate activists will lose interest in our land use needs and move on to the next disaster.

Exotic Energy Sources

This week I added an Exotic Energy section to Urban Cruise Ship. I had been considering this for a long time, and I went ahead and did it mainly because I have been stuck on some harder projects and wanted to do something relatively easy. There are no graphics planned, as I don’t see the topic as important enough to justify assigning more work to our graphics guy, but there are a few interesting things.

One recurring scheme is various ways to capture piezoelectricity, which is generated through pressure on a surface, such as when people walk over a plate or cars drive over it. One study in Australia found that with more advanced generators, an educational building at Macquarie University might recover 0.5% of its electricity usage by installing generators at high traffic points. With technology that was current at the time of the study, it’s probably more like 0.06%.

As for roadways, I cited several studies that report levelized costs of electricity in the range of multiple dollars per kilowatt-hour (wholesale prices tend to be in the range of 3-6 cents/kWh and retail on the order of 10 cents). The exception was a California study that reported 8-20 cents/kWh, which as far as I can tell is just an uncritical repetition of claims from the vendor. Also not discussed is the fact the source of energy is kinetic energy from cars, so unless the car is braking, the generators are stealing energy from motorists. We might as well be using diesel generators then.

If I were to make a guess, the pilot project is little more than California burning several million dollars on a patently unworkable scheme because of some marketing by a shady vendor. I’m all for trying bold ideas that are not guaranteed to succeed, but one must draw the line at ideas that clearly won’t succeed or where basic feasibility questions haven’t even been asked.

Biomechanical energy harvesting is an idea that got a bit of hype a few years ago, but now few people seem to still be interested. Making some extremely generous assumptions, I estimated that it would have a theoretical of about 1 exajoule per year, or about 0.2% of primary energy supply. More medium-case assumptions would cut that by at least a factor of five. Plus that doesn’t account for extra exertion required by the person or embodied energy in the devices.

There are probably some niche use cases for piezoelectric generators and biomechanical systems, such as low power distributed sensors and personal electronics respectively.

I even commented on the power from rainfall paper earlier in the year, an idea too silly to take seriously.

Speculative Energy Sources

But even with the above we’re not done. I decided to venture into the realm of speculative physics.

In quantum physics, even a system with zero temperature must have some latent energy due to the Heisenberg uncertainty principle. This has been termed the zero point. So naturally that leads people to speculate that zero point energy could be harvested for useful purposes. The near-consensus seems to be that this is impossible, that it must violate thermodynamics somehow, though I found it surprisingly difficult to find a rigorous explanation of why this is the case. This paper from 2019 is all I found, and even then, it only rules out two of three proposed ZPE extraction methods based on thermodynamic principles. Incidentally, the authors hold a patent on the third method and claim there is inconclusive evidence that it works.

Additionally, there is the NASA Eagleworks project to use the quantum vacuum to develop a spacecraft that can operate without onboard propellant.

There is a lot of interesting physics here that I don’t understand. I was expecting to write a short, dismissive comment for the website, but it would seem that ZPE is a legitimate area of scientific research. Maybe this will actually work for energy production someday. But there is no solid evidence yet, and any claims of a currently working ZPE device can be safely rejected.

Some other ideas that pop up, based in speculative physics, including hydrinos, neutrinos, quark fusion, and the ever popular perpetual motion machine. At least neutrinos and quark fusion are legitimate physics, but as far as useful energy production goes, these are all pathological ideas. I’ll add more as I see them. I briefly covered cold fusion a while ago on the Fusion page.

I expect that when the site is finally done, of the many things people could fairly accuse me of, not being comprehensive will not be one of them.

The Biden Housing Plan

Evidently I am a few weeks late, but the Biden-Harris campaign has a housing plan. The tl;dr is that there might be a few good things here, but I’m not too impressed.

When it comes to housing affordability, the principle I’ve tried to reiterate over and over again is that it comes down to supply. If there are 1,000,000 people who want to live in a city with a zoned capacity for 800,000, then 200,000 people will not be able to live there. It doesn’t matter if you impose rent control, eviction moratoria, inclusionary zoning rules, offer Section 8 or other subsidies, or whatever. As long as the supply is fixed, all these do is change the rationing mechanism from price to something else. Which, it must be acknowledged, is often the intent.

Traditionally, the federal government has a limited role in zoning. That could change of course; the federal government today has major roles in many areas where it previously had a limited or no role. As it is now, I see two plausible hooks for federal involvement in the near term. The first is the Fair Housing Act, where it can be argued fairly convincingly that zoning rules have disparate impact on protected groups, and in some cases intentional impact; and the second is to tie zoning reform to federal Community Development Block Grants or transportation funding, where reform is a matter of insuring that federal spending is actually used effectively.

The Biden plan calls for reinstatement of the Affirmatively Furthering Fair Housing rule, which while imperfect, I think is better than what the Trump Administration decided to go with, which is nothing. As for the second, I momentarily got my hopes up when I saw that they were promoting legislation to do just that. But upon reading the details of the HOME Act (which was introduced last year but I was unfamiliar with until now), I see that the list of measures the bill calls for to promote “inclusive land use” are wide-ranging, and only some of them can reasonably be expected to increase the housing supply. It could be a good piece of legislation, but much rides on the implementation. Zoning reform advocates at the state level routinely underestimate the creativity that municipalities will show in evading the intent of their laws.

Anyway, there is a lot of other stuff here on racial discrimination, energy efficiency, and the Davis-Bacon Act (which probably makes housing less affordable by running up construction costs), but I won’t belabor the issues. All in all, it’s a plan that reflects the set Democratic interests pretty well, has a lot of stuff in it, and would do little to achieve broad-based housing affordability.

Creative Outlets

Like many people, I have been continuing to struggle with a variety of stressful circumstances. I took more time than usual this week on some creative projects, which has helped.

The newest one I am calling Project Epsilon, which for now is a maze generator. I’ve long had a fascination with generative content, and I would like to see how far the concept can be taken, but for now it is really just for fun. It is not deployed, but someone knowledgeable with Python and Flask in particular can download and run it fairly easily. Not that there is much to see yet. All it does it let the user input a few parameters and make a maze.

The other is Repair the Cosmos, which is deployed but hasn’t been updated publicly in a long time, despite considerable local activity. This is an incremental game that is meant to tell the story of humanity from the Paleolithic to the far future. I started it in January and have been working very intermittently since then, but I finally have a burst of creativity going for the first time in months. I still expect at least a few weeks before the next update, and I can only go for so long before I start feeling guilty about not doing real work.