#but oh my god. watching bad and dapper run.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

God god god. The way dapper refused the elytra. the way he kept waiting for bad. the way he bad finally used that elytra just to catch up to dapper so they were together, at the end. they were together. and then they werent. and bad tried to rejoin the server 3 times over in quick succession and now we dont. know whats happened to them. bad just got dapper back and immediately lost him again and we dont know what’s going to happen

[sillysillygoofygoose]

Helloooo can I request single dad Toji living with his son megumi but then neighbor reader moves in and yk HAHHAHAH anyways love ur works

Hi!! Okay, okay, okay SOOOOO cute 🥰 I LOVE this trope sooooo much. Thank you smmm anon 💕💕 I have the smexiest ask in my inbox rn, so I thought I would start with some innocent fluff 🤭

Toji is like... super down bad in this one btw

One and a Half Men □○

Toji swore off of dating the day he became a single father. Never again, he told himself. He was too busy. Too preoccupied. Too grown to be playing a twenty-something year old's game. It was evident by his whisps of gray hair, earned over the three and a half challenging years of fatherhood.

When Megumi was first born, Toji found him and his bundle of joy a nice enough apartment, conveniently next to an uninhabited one so Megumi's cries wouldn't wake up any neighbors. Toji kept his head down and focused on what he needed to do. He worked, he took care of his baby boy, and he just kept moving forward.

And he kept good on his promise... very good. Until you showed up.

"Oh, good morning Megumi! Hi Mr. Toji, how are you guys doing today?"

There you were. A beautiful, shining sweetheart, kind and angelic down to your very core. A college student, roughly twenty years old, full of life and hope and love. And the Fushiguro's neighbor of six months.

"I told ya' a million times doll, don't call me Mr. Anything. Makes me feel older than I already am." Toji can't help the way his heart pulses in his chest everytime you flash that bright smile his way. He wishes he could.

"Okay, Mr. Toji." You giggle him off, shrugging away his gruff tone as Megumi let's go of his dad's finger and starts waddling over to you, the smallest smile parting his chubby cheeks.

"Hi y~y/n. M'mmorning. I have new shirt." Megumi makes his way over to you, grabbing your hand with one of his while the other stretches the fabric of his yellow and blue t-shirt towards you, showing it off.

"Oh wow! I see! You look very dapper this morning, Megumi!" Toji watches as you crouch down in front of Megumi, absent-mindedly patting down the raven strands of hair protruding out of the little boys' scalp

Hm, Toji thinks, watching as you blabber back and forth with the little man, smile widening more and more with every word Megumi stumbles out.

A buzzing notification from his phone distracts him from the heartwarming scene. Fuck, graveyard shift tonight.

"Well, I'm very glad you like it, you look suuuuper handsome, just like your daddy." Toji's ears perk up when he hears that. He let's a smirk slip when he realizes you're already looking at him, holding little Gumi's hand.

Hearing Megumi's quiet giggles reminds him of his current conundrum. He doesn't have anyone to look after Megumi tonight.

"Um hey, y/n, are you busy tonight?" Toji scratches the back of his neck, keeping a cool composure as his heart picks up speed.

"No, I don't think so! Why?" You stand up, caressing Megumi's head when he clings to your legs.

"I don't like asking for favors, but could you watch Megumi tonight? I'll pay ya." Toji ignores Megumi's excited squeal at the mention of spending the night at your place, knowing at this rate, he would probably have the same reaction.

"Oh my god, I'd love to! You really don't have to pay me, it would be my pleasure. He's such a little gentleman." Almost as excited as Megumi, you agree, softly squeezing the toddler's tiny shoulders.

You say your goodbyes, explaining how you need to run to the store and that Toji can drop Megumi off whenever.

As you wave goodbye, Megumi turns back to his daddy, huge smile overtaking his dumpling face.

"Yay, tank you dada! I wuv y/n, so nice and pretty." Toji has never seen his little boy so excited.

"Yeah, me too, little guy." Toji mused, walking down the apartment building's hallway, distracted by confirming his shift with his boss.

"Dada wove y/n too?" Megumi mumbles to himself, looking up at his dad with bright, hopeful eyes.

"Uhm, huh? Uh she's a very nice young lady, Megs." Realizing what he said, he backtracks, distracting Megumi with under chin tickles.

"Okay Dada." Megumi giggles, scrunching his chin to his chest, trying to stop the tingles infecting his little body.

...

Megumi was quick to warm up to you when you first moved in. It was just something about you. Maybe it was the same thing that had Toji head over heels the moment he first talked to you.

You were so refreshing to be around. Both Toji and Megumi were so used to only having each other. A young, smiling, motherly woman was such a fulfilling person to have around. Like a missing piece. Your presence was magnetic to the small family, both of them adoring you, only in different ways.

Everything about you was so beautiful. It almost made Toji nervous...

"Dada... knock knock." Megumi pulls Toji's hand towards your door, reminding him of the task at hand.

"You got it bud." Toji picks Megumi up under his armpits, letting him do the knocking.

Immediately, the door swings open, revealing a smiling you, clad in a flimsy tank top and baggy sweatpants.

"Megumi!!" You exclaim, laughing as the little boy grabs your neck and transfers himself into your arms.

"Yayyayayay, y/n!" Megumi squeezes you before turning to his dad.

"Bye bye, dada. Night night." Megumi immediately waves to his dad, almost kicking him out.

"Hold on, little man. Let me talk to y/n for a minute." Toji huffed a laugh as you smiled, moving to the side to let him in.

Toji declined coming in, explaining that he didn't want to intrude. He began explaining that Megumi was due for sleep, saying how it's already way past his bedtime. You point to your room, assuring him that Megumi would be sleeping like a king and that you were drowning in school work, too much to worry about sleeping on the couch.

Toji nodded along, beginning to tune your melodic voice out as he observed the way a sleepy Megumi snuggled into your neck, and the way your hand cradled his head, carding through his messy hair.

"Okay, well, I don't want to keep you too long, Toji! Megumi is safe and sound, and will be asleep verrryyy soon." You tease the little boy, knowing that he's already fighting sleep, dozing off on your shoulder.

Toji smiled when he didn't hear an honorific before his name. Your body froze up as he moved unbelievably close to you, face rubbing against yours as he cups the back of Megumi's head, kissing him goodnight.

"Thanks again, text me if you need anything. Be a good boy Gumi, love ya." Toji waves goodbye as you close the door, turning in your place to take a deep breath, feeling your heated cheeks with the back of your hand, pulling yourself together. What a man.

Your fan-girling subsides when you feel a yawn against your neck, reminding you of the exhausted little boy in your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, buddy. We can have fun in the morning, okay?" You feel a mumble on your skin as you walk to your room, taking in the little boys matching pajamas, little toes covered with fluffy socks. Your heart melts in your chest. How cute.

"Alright, there we go. All set, bud?" You smile down at Megumi tucked in your pink bedding, little head resting on your memory foam pillow.

"Back rub, please?" Megumi pleads, instinctively rubbing his scalp with flat hands. That's where the messy hair comes from.

"Okay, bud." You soften your voice as the boy rolls around in your bed, laying on his chubby little tummy.

He hums happily when he feels the weight of your hand on his back, making grabby hands at your unoccupied one, asking to hold it.

"Dada woves you. He said so to me." Megumi smiles softly, squeezing you hand.

"Oh! Um... oh! He said that?" A wave of shock and flush runs through your body, chest and face heating up.

"Mhm. He thinks you're pretty. I think he wants- marry you." Gumi goes rouge as sleep clouds his little mind, cutting into his own sentences.

"Allrrighhtt Megs... let's focus on bedtime, okay?" You giggle out, feeling like a schoolgirl after hearing the unreliable narrator's thoughts.

"Mmh, okay. Night night, Mama."

...

You didn't get a lick of sleep. How could you? Piles of work was banging at your brain, but the only thing you could think of was Toji and Megumi. Mama.

Pulling at your face, you snap out of your panicked thoughts when you hear a door open and the weight of a tiny body running to your couch. Looking up, your heart breaks in half.

"Y/nnn, bad dreammm. I had bad dream." Megumi sobs out, hands seeking comfort in his hair rubbing his head in agony. His face is puffy and red as tears run down his chubby cheeks, sniffing and crying.

"Oh Gumi, I'm sorry baby... here, come here honey." Climbing onto the couch, Megumi rushes into your arms, holding onto you like you would disappear. Sighing, you stand up with the little boy koala bear-ing you, pacing back and forth as you hush him.

Gazing at the time displayed on the oven, you see that it's already four in the morning. Megumi burrows himself into your body, getting as close as possible to you, seeking the maternal comfort your provide.

"M so sleepy. Don't wanna be by myself." Megumi eventually sighs after tiring himself out, fidgeting with the strap of your tank top.

"Let's sit down, okay bubs? Let's just take some deep breaths." You feel like a nervous wreck, hoping you're comforting Megumi well enough, not fully knowing what to do.

Sitting back down, you pat his back, resting your head on the back of the couch. The weight of Megumi's tired head on your chest grounds you. As you begin dozing off, you feel Megumi's grip on you relax, signaling his sleep.

Exhaling, you rest your arms around the resting lump, finally letting sleep overtake you.

...

Bright and early, you're awoken by the sounds of cabinets opening and closing. You freak out, thinking someone was ransacking your apartment before you open your eyes to see a little body wandering around your kitchen.

"Thirsty." Was the only explanation you get from the messy haired boy as he continued look for a glass.

Pouring him a glass of water, you place him on a chair in your small kitchen, starting his breakfast.

Megumi mumbles to himself as you prepare his scrambled eggs, keeping himself entertained. As you sit across from him, placing his plate in front of him, he smiles and thanks you quietly before digging in.

You drink your coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet provided by Megumi's preoccupied mind...

"Y/n?"

"Yes, Gumi?"

"Do you love dada?"

Megumi brings it up again. Great. Nosey little boy.

"Because I want a mommy. And you're good at it. I think you should be my mama."

"Hey, Gumi, what's your favorite dinosaur?" You blurt out, stopping the conversation as soon as possible.

The little boy glares at you, too smart to be tricked, but giving in anyway.

"T-rex."

...

"Dada! Y/n took good care of me!" Megumi sung the highest of praises when you opened the door to an exhausted Toji.

"I'm sure she did! I hope he didn't give you too much trouble." Toji teased, seeing the dark bags manifesting under your eyes.

"No, not at all, he's a very good boy." You smiled giving Megumi one last hug before he grabbed onto his dad's thumb.

"Thank you so much again, really it means the world to us." Toji reminded you, pulling a fifty out of his pocket, almost begging you to take it. You insisted on him keeping it, joking that the economy is too tough to be stealing his money. Saying their final goodbyes, Toji and Megumi left you alone with your thoughts.

Oh my god. Toji looked so good. His sweatshirt made his already huge frame look unbelievably broader, looking so protective as he held onto his little boy at your door.

You needed him. Bad. And it freaked the shit out of you.

Hope you enjoyed! Xoxo

*PART TWO IS NOW UP!!!!!* https://www.tumblr.com/sillysillygoofygoose/740703539826917377/one-and-a-half-men-one?source=share

[stardust-does-things]

QSMP

I'm so upset that none of my friends are into the qsmp. Like, what do you mean you don't care about gay minecraft roleplay???? How could you not be completely invested in a 36 year old man's fake platonic husband and their two egg children in a minecraft server??

The worst part is they won't even let me mention them. I can't make any damn references to anyone without getting confused glares. Like, sorry you refuse to watch every vod from every creator on the server and don't understand the lore.

It's so cool because of the amount of people on the server, like there are SO many perspectives to see things from and so many different story lines to get invested in. Personally, my favorite storyline was Ph1lzA and the Enderking thing. I've always loved the concept of a character being corrupted or possessed and forcing them to hurt their loved ones(don't question me). Tallulah and Chayanne's admins did SO good. So did Phil, he sounded like a whole different person. And Phil was the best person to do this to. He's practically everyone's dad on the server, so seeing such a caring and fun guy to get aggressive and threaten his own children was scary and a great arc for him to experience.

I also absolutely LOVE the ships. Like you can't TELL me that you don't absolutely love Roier and Cellbit's relationship. Pac and Fit? OH MY GOOOOOD. I love the fanart and fanfics of them 😭 (I ship the characters in the actual server, not the content creators). I love Deathduo. Missa x Ph1lzA forever. They make such a good duo with how they interact around each other and the eggs. Roier and Cellbit have such a cute dynamic, I loved that one time Cellbit was running away and trying to blow himself up, and Roier went, "No, you can't kill yourself! You're too sexy!" They are so silly together, and I just think they're so cute.

Also the fandom is absolutely beautiful. I love all the fanart and memes, the fanfics and animatics. OH MY GODS. I really wish I had the confidence to make fanart or fanfics, I'm too nervous that I'll get info wrong or have a bad headcannon lol. I adore looking at the way people draw the eggs. My favorite designs are when they're bipedal dragons or like they're half hatched and their legs are sticking out of the shell 😭 its so cute!!! I still don't mind when they're just drawn like kids but with dragon features.

I loved Tallulah and her story, including Wilbur. I don't like Wilbur for what he did (even if it might be fake I genuinely don't know anymore) but I like him as a character in the qsmp. I love all the clips of Wilbur and Tallulah. Like when Lullah brought a gorilla into the garden and she was just so happy but Wilbur was absolutely terrified was so funny. The way he basically gentle parented her was adorable, like he didn't know how to raise a kid and just wanted her to be happy. (Wilbur is a horrible person, if the allegations are true, and I don't support him. I just like his character in the story but still understand why some people wouldn't like his character)

The humor is probably the best part. There are so many quotable things. One thing that I specifically remember was when Phil went to wake up one of the eggs (when they were all in hospital beds or smt IDK-) with Pac and someone else, Phil got downed by a warden and Pac went up to him and said, "Philza. I am here." in an overly manly voice, or something like that. Also I love just randomly saying quotes and pretending like everyone understands and thinks I'm cool. "we are all going to die. the sun is a false god but a true threat." -Gegg "IN THIS WORLD THERE ARE 2 GENDERS, PAIN AND SUFFERING" -Dapper "Geez abuelito I didn't know you were into drama omg slay" -Tallulah "heaven is homophobic motherfucker son of a bitch" -Roier

Anyways, I need more QSMP obsessed friends to talk to <3

(part 2 coming soon <3)

[kadextra]

Seeing how q!Bad seems to have become like the enemy of everybody during purgatory…

I’m LIVING for it. It was my dream for everyone to be scared of this character, he’s been so nice for so long. this is a disaster-class demon, a grim reaper, it’s about time he terrorized people.

His actions should also continue to make everyone else worse too, like they have been. the arcs we’ve gotten as a result have been awesome. they should hold grudges, retaliate and hunt him for sport because oh my god. there is so much potential

Dapper had told q!Bad to run down everyone in order to win, and that was it. the final nail in the coffin that sent him into merciless (but still polite! ^^) bloodthirst. he doesn’t care what he has to do & how people see him as long as it gets the eggs back in his arms. 4 days in, its gotten to the point of q!Bad specifically becoming the enemy of whole teams. I love it.

I am in the front row seats cheering for q!Bad to be evil, get pushed to the edge, with the blood of his friends on his hands, feeling like everybody’s out to get him. maybe to the point his own team disowns him, like he personally suggested they do. the demon already has horrible trust issues so why not have those drop further yeah?

Like I know cc!Bad is cooking something... he seemed to know certain things about purgatory before we did, and preemptively warned viewers that his character would be doing despicable actions. this guy lives and breathes roleplay, as a storyteller he plays with the cards he’s dealt with. everything happening rn? I bet it fits riiiiiight in to whatever his plans are

All of his purgatory streams has started with a cinematic intro, and each one is different from the last which is crazy. cc!Bad is taking this very seriously, he has never gone hard with cinematics for qsmp at all up to this point, so something is different here. + he said there’s an even more corrupted skin waiting on standby “but it’s not the right time yet,” so obviously something has to happen to push that to get used.

What direction is q!Bad’s character gonna go, what will his mental state and feelings be by the end of these two weeks? what future doors will this open up for the lore?

…What is the eye in the sky thinking as it watches this sinner?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dear Dapper, I've hit a bit of writer's block, and was hoping you might have some ideas to help push me through... I have some pieces, but I can't quite figure out how to put them together.

My players are entering a region where all I've established is: Church-ruled Theocracy worshipping a god of fire (fire -> light, hearth, crafting), but I've also hinted at a dark, oppressive Inquisition force (burning away sin). The PCs are going there to steal a holy relic/larger plot MacGuffin before the bad guys steal it themselves.

I was thinking a heist (I've read your Heist guide) - perhaps going to a cathedral town under the cover of a pilgrimage, or infiltrating a huge congregation of gathering priests. Stealthily try to explore this cathedral complex looking for where the relic is held and its security, while its otherwise full of people.

Any ideas on fleshing out this land, cathedral, or situation they would have to infiltrate in order to set up some interesting hooks & challenges for the PCs (or rival group) as they approach this heist? Any elaborations on your Heist guide, as it might relate to this set up?

Thanks for any suggestions!

Oh I've ABSOLUTELY got ideas.

If you haven't settled on this fire church's deal yet I'd suggest stealing a page or two from the lore of Tharmekhul.

The gathering of clergy is specifically a ceremony of renewal held every few years (3-7 I'd say), where the priests burn a symbolic token representing their last years of service and have a new one bestowed upon them. This serves as a retirement ceremony for those who want to give up their office and lead a more relaxed position within the church.

Somewhere on their way to this region they encounter a friendly but dottering old priest who's on his way to the convocation. His attendants have all gotten royally sick from eating bad food on the way to the convocation meaning the old man is going to be late unless he gets some strapping adventurers pilgrims to help haul his luggage. This provides the party their in to the convocation, as well as disguises (as the priest's attendants) that give them access to different parts of the temple. Weapons and armour will of course need to be kept to a minimum.

While my heist rules are great, I'd also suggest running this with the help of my "how to infiltrate a fancy party" ruleset. This gives a lot more opportunity for socializing and to get an understanding of just what's going on. Indicate different times throughout the night when things will be blocked off/unguarded/watched closely and let them plan around that.

There should absolutely be a rival group working for the badguys but I'm not having much inspiration on them. They've managed to find a secret entrance into the temple and are doing an ACTUAL heist while the party is paling around.

Just as soon as the party get their hands on the relic the doors slam shut and people start to panic. This isn't because anyone has noticed them, it's because the inquisition is here: They've grown tired of the indolence and graft of their fellow clergy and are here to conduct a purge. The Inquisition is armed and backed by a mob of their most devoted zealots, who have orders to capture the highest ranking clerics and make an example of anyone that resists ( An example here meaning: Beaten and Burned alive)

Now you've got some delicious options for what happens next: If the party fight, they'll be knocked out and wake up in a prison separate from the captive priests and also from the Relic ( now in the hands of the inquisition). The party could escape with the relic but leave the priests (including the one they befriended) to their terrible fate... or the enemy thief team could get away with the relic leaving them completely in the dust. Regardless, you've now introduced an even worse set of villains, who from this night on will be consolidating their power in the fire-worshipping region and be growing into a major threat that the party will have to contend with at some point in the future.

(also just because It's related to the prison I mentioned, consider using "Justicar Illien" from this adventure prompt as the head of the inquisitors. It leads into a great subplot about a demon bound beneath the prison with themes about how evil can confuse sadism with righteousness)

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 55

Gale and I are getting ready for our evening out and Jenevelle had just woken up from her long nap. Karlach is feeding her and giving her all the attention while we prepare for a night ahead.

“I’m so sorry you had a horrible confrontation with your mother. I wish none for that would have happened. Betrayal like that… I’m not sure I could ever forgive it,” Gale comments, his voice quietly so our friends don’t hear. “Are you feeling alright?” I fluff my dark curly hair and slide into my red velvet dress, feeling as lovely and confident as ever.

“I feel great. More than I imagined I would, if we’re being honest. I promise I’m okay, my darling.” I turn around and smile, noticing him observe me from head to toe, his eyes widening as I flaunt my new outfit in front of him.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful. I’m so very lucky to call you my wife.” He places his left hand on my cheek and leans in to kiss me, his soft lips lingering on mine as I stroke his dark hair with my fingertips. He chuckles from the tickling sensation, moving his hands down to my butt and grips it, giving me a smirk as he does so. He makes me so hot. Unfortunately for us, who knows how long it will be before we have very intimate time alone?

“And you, Professor Dekarios, are so handsome and I’m madly in love with you.” The twinkle in his eyes makes me want to explode into a million pieces, and then come back to kiss him many, many times.

“You have no idea how much I love it when you call me that, baby.” As he leans in to give me another kiss, Karlach comes running from the other side of the room with Jenevelle being held in front of her, ruining the very romantic moment between us.

“Gale! If you ever get baby fever again, just remember this.” She approaches Gale with Jenevelle, and he tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Smell her butt!”

“Karlach, PLEASE —“

“COME ON! Smell her butt!” Karlach proceeds to follow Gale around the room with the baby being held out in front of her, causing me to laugh hysterically at the entire scenario in front of me. Wyll stands next to me, rolling his eyes as he watches Karlach chasing Gale around the room.

“I always tell myself I know what I signed up for, but she still manages to surprise me every day,” Wyll comments to me, laughing. “I can only imagine how it’s going to be when our child is older.”

“Karlach, I just got dressed into my dapper attire. Don’t you want the practice? I’d rather not change a very dirty diaper while I look this nice. This is my best suit for crying out loud.”

“As long as you’re in the same room with me, you handle it.” Gale sighs and takes the baby from her arms. “Oh, I was totally kidding, but if you insist.” Gale nearly gags and squints his eyes, holding Jenevelle out in front of him as he makes an expression of disgust. I can’t help but chuckle at his expression, though I feel bad for him. I offer to change her but he shakes his head no, though the moment Jenevelle is in his arms, I can tell he wishes he said yes.

“Oh by Mystra’s Mantle, that is rancid. You would think I’d be used to this by now. Okay, Karlach. Valid. Emmy, my love, you’re changing the next one.” I bust up laughing as I take a drink of my ice-cold water, feeling a sensation of refreshment as I chug it down. “These next few months sure will be interesting, won’t they?”

“You said it pal,” Wyll responds. “Hey, at least you two will get a night out. And you know Karlach makes for interesting company.” I won’t lie, watching the entertainment between them makes me feel better about the events from earlier today.

“You’re not wrong, Wyll. She is the source of our entertainment, that’s for sure. You are lucky to have her,” Gale responds, smiling. He puts Jenevelle down to get her cleaned up while I prepare her evening bottle for her in the meantime. I hand it over to Karlach.

“She will just need this right before bed. So, about a couple hours from now. We shouldn’t be gone too long, of course. Now only to figure out where we will be going for our outing tonight,” I say suggestively, hoping Gale comes up with an idea. “And before anyone says anything, I promise I won’t have a glass of wine.” Gale chuckles and turns around to face me as he buttons Jenevelle’s onesie, his left brow furrowed.

“Oh I’ll make sure you’re on your best behavior tonight, missy. No really. There’s a baby in there.”

“AND THE BABY IS MINE!!!” Karlach shouts, startling Wyll who places his hand over his chest from the intense jump scare. Unfortunately for him, he was standing right next to her. “Sorry Wyll. I mean ours.”

“You’re sorry about the wording, but not sorry about how scared you just made me? I nearly stained my pants, love!” I gather my sweater from the table next to our bed and put it over my top, feeling nice and warm as I prepare to embrace the chilly weather outside on this beautiful autumn night. I approach Jenevelle and kiss her forehead, smiling as she reaches up to touch my face with her tiny hand.

“I love you little one. Daddy and I will be back soon.”

The golden aura of the sun setting is so beautiful, and the bustling streets are beginning to settle down. I don’t even remember what restaurants are around here, it’s been way too long. Gale holds my hand as we stroll calmly throughout the city, and it makes me truly happy. I’m not bothered by what happened today, I feel at ease. I hope I feel this way all the time and it isn’t just a temporary emotion that’s masking any sort of hurt.

“We could have a nice dinner outside at the Blushing Mermaid?” Gale suggests. “I hear it’s been completely revamped.

“Probably because Karlach and Minsc got into a little bit of trouble and she almost burnt the place down.” Gale lets out a loud laugh and rubs my knuckles with his thumb.

“Unfortunately, she did burn the place down. But hey, it looks wonderful now and less of a ‘bar’ environment. Would you like to give it a try, my love?” I look at him and flash a smile, thrilled to see the new structure of the Blushing Mermaid. The stroll through the city is so peaceful, and I enjoy taking in the beauty and good memories we had here, though there weren’t too many…unless you count reuniting Shadowheart with her parents, defeating Astarion’s abuser, helping Gale find a way to fix his orb, saving Karlach’s life, and many other risky yet fun adventures. It exhausts me just thinking about every single thing we accomplished.

We made it to the Blushing Mermaid and he was right, it is completely refurbished, and it looks beautiful! It doesn’t even look like the same place, except maybe the boat part on the side. One would never even suspect it was once a bar full of drunks, unless you’ve lived here and walked past the place every single day. As we quietly tread inside, I notice the walls are painted a gorgeous shade of crimson; not too bright, just a little darker, like blood. I hate to compare it to that, but here we are. The tables are spread apart just a few feet apart, each one draped with black tablecloth and candles sitting on top of them. There are two bards – one female tiefling on the violin and a male high-elf on the piano – in the middle of the restaurant, performing soft and beautiful music to help keep a soothing environment. Gale and I get seated by the host at one of the tables, and get handed our menus. As I’m looking through the menu, I slowly peek up and notice Gale smiling at me, his eyes admiring me as I try to decide what to eat.

“My Gods… I love you so much. I’m so proud of you and I couldn’t be more lucky to have such an incredible wife. From all of the adventures we’ve had to raising our child together… Now here you are, being a surrogate to our friends and the most selfless person I’ve ever met. There’s nothing I don’t love about you.” I bite my bottom lip and blush, trying to fight some tears but I feel them coming anyway.

“Even though I trip over my own feet and I’m kind of gassy?” Gale laughs at my comment but stops himself from laughing too hard.

“Yes. It just adds to your goofy qualities that I love so very much. You are perfect just the way you are.” I want to just cry from how special this wizard makes me feel, how incredible he is to me, and how I can’t imagine a life without him. Where would I be if I never met him? Would I be dead somewhere from the tadpole, or would I be with someone who makes me miserable? Regardless, this man has saved me one way or another.

“Gale… Thank you. I needed those words. You truly make me feel like the most special woman in the world and I can’t imagine being in a world where you don’t exist.” I reach out for his hand across the table, taking them and admiring the wedding ring on his finger. I chuckle quietly as I rub his knuckles with my thumb. His tan skin is soft like velvet, and smells of rosewater and even a hint of lavender. He stares down at our hands and closes his eyes, and after about ten seconds, his eyes are locked back onto mine.

“I feel the same way. I love you more than words will ever express. In fact, words alone can’t begin to explain my love for you. I could write quill on paper and still…no amount of pages could do it justice.” The loud growling of my stomach interrupts the sweet moment between us. “Ha, is my sweet girl hungry?”

“Maybe a little. A venison sounds delightful. Maybe some mozzarella and….oh my gods they have lasagna.” Gale chuckles and opens his menu.

“Any particular meal sound satisfying for any pregnancy cravings, my love?” I study the menu, trying to decipher exactly what sounds pleasing to my pallet; and for the baby, of course. If this child is anything like Karlach, it will highly enjoy the pleasures of meat. “Something tells me you want the venison, don’t you?”

“You know me so well.”

A delightful talk and dinner with the love of my life is all I really needed today, and I feel the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve always been truly happy with Gale, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. There’s something about today in particular that’s made me feel butterflies all over again, as if I had just met him for the first time. Often, I’ll reminisce about the day I met him and how it seemed we just clicked that very day.

“Hello, I’m Gale from Waterdeep. Apologies, I’m usually good at this.”

“At introductions?”

“At Magic.”

After a fulfilling meal, we slow dance in the middle of the restaurant, his hands on my waist as he pulls me close. I gaze up at him as our bodies touch, feeling the magic between us spark as we sway amongst the floor.

“You’re glowing,” he murmurs, smiling as he brushes my curls out of my face. “You’re so beautiful.” His right hand moves to my belly, placing it there for a brief moment. I feel that he wants to tell me something, but he’s afraid. I can sense it.

“Love, is there something you want to tell me? Please don’t be afraid.” My voice is as soft as a whisper as I smile up at him, matching his dance movements. His expression shifts to one of mild sadness, and he hesitates for a moment.

“I…feel so selfish for thinking it…”

“What is it, love?”

“I almost wish that baby was ours. You know… When you were pregnant with Jenevelle, it was such a fragile yet beautiful time. I was so excited that we were having our first baby. At first? No. But as the months flew by, it was such a happy time for me. For us. I’m so glad we will be giving our friends this chance, and I know earlier I said I was so afraid—“

“You want another baby, don’t you?” I say, interrupting his thoughts. “You can tell me.” He smiles and looks down at the floor nervously for a very brief moment, then his gaze is back on mine. He shrugs.

“Kind of, but I know the risks and what it would entail. So, adoption would be best since the child would actually age and all that. I feel so silly saying all of this considering I just told you a few weeks ago that I don’t want another child. Anyway, that’s a conversation for another time. For now, I’m enjoying just being with you and having you all to myself for a couple hours.” I smile and lean my head on his chest, dancing the night away slowly and full of love.

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Part 5: The Vegas Trip

"VEGAS BABY!!" Shouts Tom as we all file into the lobby of the hotel. We are here for only two nights and we are all excited to get this party started.

"Let's get in our rooms, get ready and just party all day. Drinks, gambling, debochorie"

I laugh at how excited Tom is for this. Julie says it will be fun but it's more for the guys. I agree.

We get settled into the villas. Tom and Julie sprang for the best of the best. Why not, right?The ladies have a Villa and the men have their own.

We all put our makeup on and our "going out" outfits. We have a glass of champagne in the room and toast to a crazy awesome Bachelorette party.

"The guys are going their own way I guess. I hope they behave" Julie says a bit apprehensively.

"Tom won't do anything bad. He loves you so much." I say to Julie as I hug her.

Heather walks into the room. She has a red dress on and red high heels. Red lipstick. She wants to get noticed. By Evan I'm sure.

"Let's go get ourselves in trouble" she says and chugs her champagne. I shoot Julie a look and she just shrugs.

---

We go downstairs to the casino. Thank God the hotel is in the same building. I might get a bit shit faced tonight. Especially if I have to watch Blondie throw herself at Evan. I hope the guys really are somewhere else. But as we walk into the casino, there they all are. All the guys huddled in a group, looking dapper as ever. Evan turns and shoots me a smile and I see a flash of red beelining so fast it leaves a streak. Heather running up to Evan. She immediately hangs on him. I think I see a flash of discomfort from him but I can't really be sure.

I walk with Julie up to the group and just stand there silently. Trying not to pay attention to what is happening. Heather has her arm on his shoulder and she is playing with the curls above his ear. She's leaning in and pressing her breasts against his arm. Even I can see she is being too much.

Tom strikes up a conversation with me and then he goes to get a picture with Julie. I turn around to see Evan staring at me. Heather is still crowding him, but she is oblivious to the fact that he's not looking at her at all. He winks at me. I give him a half smile. Just then I feel a hand on my arm and I turn to see Julie. She wants a picture with all the bridesmaids. Oh darn, the leech is going to have to release herself for a few minutes. We get the picture. Julie starts talking to Heather so I make my move. I find my way to Evan and say hi. He turns and gives me a half hug.

"Hey! You look really pretty" Evan says

"Oh, uh thanks. You're looking pretty dapper, yourself" I smile.

"Want to go find drinks?" He says to me

"Aren't the guys going off to do something soon?" I ask.

"Probably." Is all he says

"Ok, then. I'm sure you can catch up. Let's go." What is happening? I go with it.

Evan and I find a seat at the bar. He asks me what I want and then he orders it for me and pays for it. I thank him.

We chat for awhile. About nothing really, just small talk.

"Are you not a big drinker? You are kinda milking that rum and coke." Evan says to me.

"Not really. I have one here and there."

"I drink, but I have to keep it controlled now. I used to party really hard " he chuckles

"oh yea?"

"Can I tell you something that I don't tell a lot of people?" He asks.

"Sure"

"I've been to rehab a couple times." He stares at me for my reaction.

"Oh wow. For alcohol?" I stare right back at him. He's being vulnerable and there's no way I'm going to make him feel like he can't talk to me.

"Uh, no. I mean part of it yes. But, uh, mostly recreational drugs." He waits. "Does that make you think any differently about me?" His eyes get soft

"No, not all. Takes a lot of strength to get yourself clean and back to a good place." I put my hand on his. Staring into his eyes.

"Hey, Evan. This is a safe space. I just want to know."

He leans in and our lips meet. My heart is racing. He pulls away. "Want to get out of here?" He asks.

I nod yes.

-----

Back up at his villa we are kissing in his room. His lips trail down my neck. His hands are on my ass and pulling me in close to him. He smells so good. It's distracting. We start undressing each other. His suit jacket is crumpled on the floor. Our shoes kicked into the corner. My shirt and bra removed.

"Can I touch you?" He asks

"Yes" I whisper.

He cups my breast and starts kissing me. He pulls away and his mouth finds my nipple. He's gently sucking and I groan. He pushes his pelvis against me and I can feel his erection poking me.

"Lets get you pants off" I say as I start unzipping. He pushes them down and steps out. I tuck my thumbs into his waistband of his boxers and pull them down. It's my turn to ask. "Can I touch you?" He nods.

I start rubbing and stroking his erection. His eyes close and he groans.

"Let's get comfortable" I say. I take his hand and lead him towards the bed. I break away to take my pants off we are both now completely naked. We get on the bed and he hovers above me. He touches my face.

He kisses me softly as he slowly pushes himself inside me. I groan into his mouth. He lets me adjust and then he bottoms out. I gasp.

"Are you uncomfortable?" He asks

"No, it feels amazing" I reply groaning.

"What makes you feel good? Do you like it gentle, rough. Somewhere in between?" He asks

I just stare at him "I will take anything you want to give me. I lean towards rough though." I say coyly.

He starts thrusting and it's gentle at first. But then he presses his pelvis to me harder and moves in tight circles. I can't speak. He feels so good inside me.

"Oh God, that's amazing" I say

He keeps going, but speeds it up a bit. I'm close.

"Oh, please keep going" I plead in his ear

He continues until I am shuddering with pleasure. I can't control my screams. They have to come out.

He speeds up almost immediately. He starts thrusting and grunting.

"Oh shit, you feel so good. Oh get ready. Should I pull out?" He asks breathlessly.

"No, please don't it's ok." I say

His orgasm hits and he lets out his own screams. They fill the room. They echo off the walls. He so sexy. I can't even believe I'm with him right now. He holds me to his body as he cums inside me. It feels gentle and loving.

When he's finished he pulls out and lays down and pulls me towards him. We cuddle.

"That was better than anything the guys are doing right now." He says.

[tootiredmotel]

For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!

read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)

Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.

He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.

As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:

"I'm sick."

He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.

"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"

"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"

Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.

His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.

When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.

Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.

[meltwonu]

| 🎃 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 🎃 |

↪ ✦ casanova ✦

this chapter pairing; incubus!vernon x succubus!reader

genre&warnings; incubus!au, cocky!vernon, lots of banter, breathplay/choking, slight fingering, blowjob, dirty talk, degradation, namecalling, fucking in a public place 😗

notes; oh the way cocky vernon hits so different 🤤🥵 low-key I was imagining bad clue vernon for this one but then I was like mmm thats a little too dapper for this fic so instead my mind was like 🤤🤤🤤 fear era vernon~ Anyway~ oh! I'll make a notice probably tomorrow that I won’t be online this weekend(thurs-sun) at all, but I'll log in to post the last 3 monster mash fics! I’ll also be answering all the thirst posts/comments/etc. throughout the week once I get back! 💕 have a good day/night! all my socal bbys, stay safe! see u tomorrow! 💕🎃👻 

word count; ~2600

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - x - x - x - x

i’m here lying on the bed of your tongue;

my heart listens to the sound of your war drum

steady tiptoeing to your neck of the woods;

i feel danger on your lips but it tastes good.

You take a seat at the bar, legs crossed and a bored expression on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this awful.” The bartender comments, sliding a drink across the countertop. “It’s, uh, on the house.”

“Thanks, Seungcheol.” You mutter, graciously accepting the free drink.

Tonight should’ve been an easy night for you; just a quick visit to a few of your regular humans and you would’ve been easily sated. But for whatever reason, not a single of them provided you with any sort of satisfaction and you’d left out of boredom before they’d even gotten you to cum.

“You okay? You look... Like you’ve seen better days.” He laughs, leaning over the counter top. “It’s Halloween, you out of all people should be busy.” You quickly down the drink in one shot, passing Seungcheol the glass as he goes to fill it up again, back turned to you. “See, you’d think that. But it fuckin’ sucked. Dunno, nothing really satisfied my craving, I guess.”

“And what are you craving, princess?”

A voice from behind you has you spinning on your barstool as you come face to face with Vernon. “Ugh, it’s you.” He laughs lightly, taking a seat next to you as he shrugs his suit jacket off.

“Fuck you mean, ‘ugh’?” Vernon scoffs.

Seungcheol comes back with your drink and one for Vernon as well, sliding them to your side as he sighs. “Okay, why are you both here? Seriously, it’s Halloween! Feeding should be easy!” You roll your eyes, glass in hand as you stare Seungcheol down. “And what are you doing here, Seungcheol? Shouldn’t you be feeding?”

The male raises a brow at you, “What do you think I’m doing on my breaks? This place is crawling with humans trying to get caught up in the mix.”

Vernon sighs next to you, quietly taking a sip of his drink. “And you? Why are you here, Vernon?”

He places his glass down, half turned to face you. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Seungcheol chuckles, hip propped up against the countertop as he butts in. “She said nobody is ‘satisfying’ her tonight.” Vernon’s expression falls into that of understanding as you groan.

“Ugh, ‘Cheol, go mind your business!” The said male backs off laughing, walking towards the other side of the bar to service other patrons.

“Nobody’s satisfying you, huh? And why’s that? All your regulars getting boring?” Vernon asks; a lazy smirk on his features.

“I could ask you the same fuckin’ thing, Vernon. Or is it that you can’t get it up maybe?” You tease.

The smirk falls from his face, eyes squinting at you. “Is that what you think? That I can’t get it up? And how about you? Is that pussy of yours scaring off all of your regulars? Or maybe their dicks are too small and can’t satisfy how fuckin’ much you want your cunt filled.”

You lean in at the same time he does, fingers looping into his necktie as you pull him in even closer.

“You talk like you can satisfy me.” “Are you tryna find out? ‘Cause I’m willing to let you. But don’t go crying when my cock’s too big for you.” Vernon grins.

“Prove it then, casanova. Show me you’re worth my time.”

Vernon pushes you into the employee restroom, Seungcheol shouting in the background as the door locks into place.

The red lights in the small space make it feel more intimate and sensual; the complete opposite of the way Vernon’s teeth clash with yours when he kisses you hard.

You moan into the kiss, hands tangling into his hair as he presses you into the door and he slots a leg between your own, letting you grind down onto his thigh as he smirks against your lips. It’s a battle for power between the two of you; neither of you willing to give up your natural dominant nature.

Vernon pulls away, eyes hazy and the same cocky smirk on his lips. “So fuckin’ desperate to get fucked, you’ll use my thigh too, huh?”

“Maybe that’s your only charm point?” You retort. He doesn’t take too kindly as he shakes your hands out of his hair and he drags you over to the countertop.

In the mirror, you take in your appearance, your own drunk eyes staring right back at you. “God, you talk so damn much, you know that?” He murmurs, nosing at your neck. His hands roam your body, hiking your dress further and further up until he can run his fingertips over your panties. He wastes no time, locating your clit through the material before he pinches it hard.

“O-oh, fuck!” You cry, eyes clamping shut at his rough touch. Your panties get wetter and wetter and you find yourself grinding your ass into his hardening cock.

Vernon kisses your skin, leaving small love bites in his wake as he continues to tease you through your panties. “Mmm, you’re getting so wet and all I’m doing is touching your ‘lil clit through your panties. Is that how easy you are? Just a little taste and you’re already putty in my hands.” He smirks against you, fingertips pulling your panties to the side.

“You say I talk too much? You fuckin’ talk too much, Vernon. Hurry up and finger me already!”

He laughs, running his fingers through your wetness before he sinks his index and middle fingers up to the knuckle in one fast movement.

A garbled moans floats past your lips as he starts fucking you with his fingers and you watch your own expression contort in pleasure at the way his fingers were already providing you with more satisfaction than anything else tonight. “Oh, g-god, fuck, that feels suh---so good…”

Vernon ruts into your ass, smoky eyes gazing into the mirror. “You’re so pretty getting drunk on my fingers fucking you open. How are you gonna look once it’s my cock inside of you?”

“G-god, we won’t g-get, ah, there if you don’t s-shut up!” He rolls his eyes, nipping at the junction of your neck.

Vernon lets you grind against his fingers for a moment, eating up the way you seem to forget about everything around you as you chase the pleasure. But he  gets bored, pulling his fingers out of you almost just as quickly as he’d first sunk them in.

“H-hey!”

“Oh, baby, you can’t be the only one benefitting from this.” Vernon pulls away from you, uncaring that he uses his sticky, wet fingers to undo the button and zipper of his pants. “Hope you’re ready to take my cock. All those people that couldn’t fuck you right tonight were all just pregames ‘til now, huh?” He grins, wrapping a hand around his cock.

You can only see so much from the mirror’s reflection; watching as Vernon places a firm hand on your shoulder as he pushes your upper half further down onto the countertop. “Get comfy, princess. Wouldn’t want you to break a nail or something.”

“Just fuck me already, damn it!” Whining, you place your hands palm down on the mirror as you jut your ass out further. You watch with hazy eyes as he smirks at you in the mirror and you soon feel the head of his cock teasing your entrance.

“God, you are so lucky I’m just as impatient as you are.”

You’re about to complain about him taking too long again, but you’re quickly left breathless when he starts inching his cock into your wet pussy. “Fuh---fuck, oh, go---god you’re, ah, b-big!”

“Get used to it, you’ll be begging me for more.”

You choose to ignore his cocky comments as you focus on the way his cock stretches you out perfectly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he finally bottoms out. His cock taps against your cervix and you resist the urge to just start fucking yourself on his cock, impatience muddling everything else in your mind.

“Mmm, your pussy is so tight and warm around me, baby. Maybe it’s that personality of yours that scares off your regulars.” Vernon chuckles under his breath, but it’s immediately cut short when you clench around him hard. “Shit, fine, fine, I get it!” He grumbles.

Vernon draws his hips back before slamming his cock back into you and for a second, your clammy palms pressed up against the mirror almost lose their grip with how your body jerks forward. “God, yes, yes fuck me hard!” You cry, already meeting his harsh pace.

“So this is why they can’t do it for you, huh?” His hips snap into you; the sound of skin slapping getting drowned out by the loud music on the other side of the door. “You wanna be fucked like a little cumslut tonight and nobody wants to give it to you.”

“Ngh, y-yeah… s-so what’s y-your fuckin’, ah, d-deal?”

Vernon scoffs, “Maybe I just wanted to treat someone like my own ‘lil cockslut tonight and nobody was doin’ it for me either.” You grin in return, hazy eyes focused on yourself in the mirror.

“Guess t-this was where, ah, we were meant to be t-tonight.” You lick your lips, working your hips back as you start to chase your orgasm. “By the w-way, don’t--don’t cum, hah, inside m-me…” He slows his pace a little, leaning over your back as he nuzzles into your shoulder. “Oh? Why’s that? Don’t want people to know I fucked you in Seungcheol’s employee restroom? Or is it that you’re scared you’ll get addicted to me cumming inside your hot little cunt. Maybe you’ll even go home and fuck my cum deeper inside of yourself wishin’ it was still me and not your hands or your dumb little humans.”

His words are almost filthy enough to make you change your mind, but you harden your stare, crimson eyes meeting his in the mirror’s reflection. “Don’t g-get too cocky, Vernon. Just don’t fuckin’ cum i-in me. I’m s-still going out, mmh, after t-this…”

He shoots you an incredulous look, leaning away from you shoulder as he starts to double his pace. “Wow, fuckin’ bold of you to even go out after this. But okay, you’ll come crawling back to find me and I’ll be waiting at the bar for you. Maybe you’ll even be so fuckin’ desperate for my cock, I’ll even make you beg me. And beg for me to cum inside of you.” Vernon pauses, snaking his hand up your spine before he circles it around the column of your throat. “For now, you’re gonna cum on my cock, get it nice ‘n soaked. Then you’re gonna suck me off and I’m gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

“F-fine…”

Vernon gently applies pressure to your throat, restricting your airways slightly as you start to get tighter around him. “Touch your clit, make yourself cum.” He commands.

You’re quick to take his lead, trailing a hand down your body until you can rub quick circles on your clit. “G-god, yes, fuck, ah, I’m gon---gonna cum, fuck! My pussy’s so fuckin’ full, I---mmph!” Vernon’s hand on your throat quickly travels up until his palm is pressed firmly against your lips, effectively muffling you.

He uses this as leverage, pushing you backwards until your back meets his clothed chest. Your body jerks in his hold as he fucks into you hard, cock slamming into your cervix with each thrust. “Fuck, you have such a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Everyone can probably hear what a little whore you are. But I bet that gets you off, doesn’t it? Letting everyone know how fuckin’ good you’re getting it.” He licks the shell of your ear, hips pistoning into you as you cum; moans and cries muffled by Vernon’s hand still over your mouth.

“That’s right, cum on my cock, baby. Your tight cunt feels so good around me.” Moaning, he slows down his thrusts, watching you through the mirror as you take your pleasure.

It doesn’t give you any energy like feeding from a human would, but the pleasure still feels good enough for shapes dance beneath your eyelids as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Shit, you really are pretty like this.” Vernon scoffs under his breath as he finally removes his hand from over your mouth. Your body slumps forward as you catch your breath; soft whimpers on your lips. “Now it’s my turn, baby. I expect you on your knees now~”

You groan in return, somewhat drained. This is why you never fucked with other incubus; there was no energy gain and it left you more tired than anything else.

But you only think it’s fair, so you drop to your knees, wincing slightly when the tile bites into your kneecaps. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, ready for Vernon to hurry up and cum down your throat.

“Hmm~ I think you’d be even prettier with my cum all over your face. Whaddya think?” He grins, eyes twinkling down at you.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to have your dick bitten off?” You growl.

Vernon takes the hint as he threads a hand loosely into your hair and you use a hand to wrap around his cock that’s already covered in your wetness.

You immediately sink your mouth down onto his cock; deepthroating him and hollowing out your cheeks around him. Tucking your hands underneath your thighs, you let Vernon use your mouth, moaning around him to help throw him over the edge.

He groans from above you, hips thrusting into your mouth as he feels his orgasm coming on, only a few minutes later. “Fuck, ‘m gonna, ah, c-cum. Swallow it all, baby. Show me what a good cumslut, hah, you a-are.”

Humming around him, you bask in the way his moans are clipped and stuttered with your teasing.

Vernon could be so easy too, despite his cocky nature.

You feel his cock throbbing in your mouth, the salty substance hitting the back of your throat as you aim to swallow it all down.

“Ngh, look at you. Not even a drop spilled. You’re a pro~” He quips; tugging you by the hair as you cough and sputter. A thread of cum and spit connect your lips to his cock and for a second, Vernon thinks he can get used to seeing you like this.

You move to stand, legs shaky as you rest your back against the countertop that he’d had you bent over, moments prior. “At least one of us is.” You smirk at him, wiping your lips with the back of your hand.

“God, you really just don’t quit, do you?”

“Hey, some of my humans like it, asshole.” You turn to face the mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance.

Vernon stands beside you, adjusting his clothes and hair as you do too. “Speaking of, are you really still heading out after this?”

Tugging your dress down, you check your appearance in the mirror one last time before you reach for the doorknob and unlock it.

“Yeah, ‘cause that drained me of any energy I had.” You pause, turning slightly to face Vernon who stands behind you. You bite the inside of your cheek and despite the snarky banter between the two of you; Vernon wasn’t half bad. 

“Maybe once I get some of it back, I’ll meet you at the bar.”

His eyes flash a darker shade of red, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear when he leans in.

“I’ll be waiting on you, baby.”

[devilinsheepswool]

My First Impressions vs My now thoughts on the Obey Me! Babes + Luke

Because I did one for mysme some time back. Spoilers for season 2 and images (not related to the spoilers) ahead, tread with care

Lucifer

First Impression: Jumin Han, but make him a demon

Season 1: *after the attempts on MC's life, and over all ambiguity of his feelings and thoughts on MC* proceed with caution

Season 2: *after Arcadia, Luci being a smug lil shit but such a sweet heart when MC returns to Devildom, the amnesia situation, and willingness to sacrifice himself for MC and his brothers* LUCI, LISTEN TO ME LOVE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU WITHOUT HESITATION BABE

Overall thoughts: listen, I tend to like subs but Luci bae you got me like 💋👀❤👀❤👀💋

Mammon

First Impression: He kinda reminds me of the guys that used to bully me when I was a kid

Season 1: *always protecting MC and caring for them, being basically attached to their hip* You're the only bitch in the house i ever respected.

Season 2: *Mammon being Mammon* I am proposing 👀💍❤

Overall thoughts: YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER THAN I COULD EVER GIVE YOU, OH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH MY SWEET DEMON BOY

Leviathan

First Impression: I found my new bottom 😏

Season 1: *Levi still being a gigantic tsundere for a majority of the game, even post pact* Levi, sweetie! 💕 Pspspsps! 💗 Levi, darling! 💖 Come here, baby! 💘 Pspspsps! 💓

Season 2: (plus devilgrams) I'mma have all his sea demon babies, and that's a promise ❤👀

Overall thoughts: Fuck me in your ocean monster demon form

Satan

First Impression: 16 year old me's dream man, tbh

Season 1: Such a dapper Cat man~ So posh and chivalrous... Wait, oh?! He gremlin too?! Such gap moe,

Season 2: Any demons here? Got any demons out tonight? Any HORNY 😏 boys? Satan, I know you there babe, pspspsps

Overall thoughts: "Season 2 is over, so I cut off all my shirts sleeves." Why? "Satan was my self control."

Asmo

First Impression: Okay, now this is interesting... not normally an archetype I'm fond of... but I'm kinda diggin him

Season 1: uhm, excuse me waiter? This season lacked a bit too much Asmo's character development for my liking

Season 2: SOLMARE MY BABY BOI JUST WANTS LOVE!!! LET ME LOVE HIM, SOLMARE!!!

Overall thoughts: *Asmo getting cheated out of screen time and MC's love by Solmare* where are my cuddles, where are my kisses? MC, is... evil? MC is unyielding? MC is incapable of love? I am running away. I am packing my rusack and going out to explore the world like a lone vagabond. I can no longer thrive in this house hold.

Beel

First Impression: kinda scarey... 😟

Season 1: *after the whole Luke situation* I think we're married? But I don't remember a wedding. We might have adopted Luke too, sooo...? I like him, tho, so it's all Gucci with me tbh A REALLY SWEET DEMON MAN

Season 2: Puppy! Gigantic puppy man! BEELzeBABE sweetie I love you, baby! You're doing amazing sweetheart

Overall thoughts: I've had Beel for two seasons now and if anything ever happened to him, I would kill everyone and then myself

Belphie

First Impression: ❤👀 Hey there Miss New Booty 👀❤

Season 1: *after he kills MC and there's no development or elaboration on their relationship*

Season 2: (+ Devilgrams) Listen, everyone gets at least one homicidal psychopathic bad boy, and I've chosen him.

Overall thoughts: Hello, fellow gremlin should we duel to the death for title of "ultimate sarcastic bastard"

Diavolo

First Impression: *Looks down at Diavolo's chest and then quickly back at him* I am looking respectfully 👀👀👀 *internally though vvvv*

Season 1: He's cute, it's a shame we didn't see more of him 😔💔

Season 2: *towards the end, when Diavolo keeps trying to get MC alone* oooooooooh, bet? 😏

Overall thoughts: This man brings out the bottom in me like I have never experienced before

Barbatos

First Impression: I know we just met, and I know I hardly know anything about you but do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?

Season 1: Listen, you can't give me a man that insanely HOT and then only sprinkle him every here and there in the game!!! That's not right! Gimme the whole slice Solmare!

Season 2: Barbatos, mon cher, they continue to keep us apart, don't they love? But fret not, fate shall not keep us a part for long, I know you'll come for me and I promise I shall be ready for when that day comes

Overall thoughts: He knows how to bake and cook!? Sold, I'm sold! Get me a white dress and him a suit~ 

Solomon

First impression: He radiates pure bastatd energy, he just looks so pleased with himself... I feel like he's hiding something... I like him tho, I'd be his friend.

Season 1: *when the fandom theorized he was evil and shady* "STOP SAYING HE IS EVIL AND SHADY, you don't have all the facts!!!" and those are? "I LOVE HIM 🥺😭"

Season 2: *revealing he's been working hard to come up with a solution to MC's and the 3 realms problems, being protective of MC in Lesson 38* I KNEW IT, I KNEW YOU WEREN'T GOING TO BE EVIL 🥺😭☺️ THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE U ❤❤❤

Overall thoughts: I would die for u tbh

Simeon

First Impression: Oh dreamweaver~ 💕❤💗💘💓💖👌💍🥺😏😚

Season 1:  oh holy shoulders give me strength for I know he is a forbidden man, but rather than give me strength you only seem to test my resilience to reach for the forbidden fruit and test my already crumbling sanity

Season 2: *Simeon alluding to feelings for MC with subtle actions and text messages* *high pitched shrieking only audible to dogs*

Overall thoughts: Have you ever seen a man so perfect you cry? Like, God, his beauty is unbelievable!!!

Luke 

First impression: Yes, operator? I would like the custody of child forms... yeah, I'll hold 💅

Season 1: *when Luke is obviously still afraid and uncomfortable of being in Devildom, and any demon looks at him funny. Especially that one lesson when Lucifer tries to attack him in that catacombs looking place*

Season 2: *watching Luke get more comfortable and even miss Devildom, watching his relationship with Barbatos and Solomon develop* that's growth

Overall thoughts: *after Luke accepted being MC's guardian Angel*

Lilith

First Impression: I know she's supposed to be good... but what if she turns out to be like Rika??? I'm sorry but I can't go through this again, dude

During Season 1: *towards the end when Lilith reveals all the truth to MC* I AM SO SORRY FOR EVER DOUBTING U MAMA LILITH 😭😭😭 U DIDN'T DESERVE THAT I'M SO SORRY

Overall thoughts: Mama Lilith, it's me your bastard great great great descendant. Can you hear me wherever you are? Mama Lilith, I need u girl... come help me again pwease 🙏

[alittlextrathatway]

General prompt #50 & Brettsey please 😊❤️

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

******

Sylvie isn’t quite comfortable with what’s unfolding around her. She can’t explain it. No one’s done anything or said anything to offend her, but there’s something unsettling about the way the group of men in the back corner of the bar are staring at her.

And if she’s learned anything from her years in the field, it’s trust her instincts.

They’re out celebrating Severide’s birthday. Whatever weirdness that’s happening between Kelly and Stella is forgotten for now, but after they stayed in last year she does find it suspicious that her friends opted for a group outing instead. It feels as if they’re using the public setting to avoid the tension between them, but it’s none of her business. Besides, it’s not as if she isn’t doing her fair share of ignoring tonight too.

She’s been avoiding Matt all night long. Which has been difficult since it’s just the four of them at one table. They’re not at Molly’s for once. This place is nicer. They had a fancy dinner at Swift and Sons, which Sylvie could never refuse, and then stopped in the more sophisticated bar down the street for after dinner drinks.

Stella and Severide have disappeared, likely into the bathroom to make out, and Matt is at the bar getting another drink.

Meanwhile, she’s at their table being blatantly leered at by a group of men in perfectly tailored suits and extremely expensive watches. They keep looking at her and whispering. It’s making her nervous and self-conscious.

She hadn’t had much opportunity to dress up lately so on Stella’s reassurance she’d gone all out tonight. Her dress was backless, sure, but it had a high neckline and long sleeves. She felt like it was the perfect mix of daring and demure.

But now she’s questioning the wisdom of her decision. Maybe she should have worn something less...eye catching. Her skin crawls as their eyes continue to drag over her. She gulps down a large sip of wine, praying she’s being paranoid and the wine will dull her imagination. But then one of the men stands from the table with his gaze intently focused on her.

Oh no.

Her eyes frantically search for a quick escape, sighing when they land on Matt.

She stands, grabs her purse, and winds her way through the tables as quick as she can. Settling herself onto the bar stool next to Matt, she loops her arm through his and leans in to speak softly.

“Please just go with it. There was a rich creep coming over to talk to me and I didn’t know where else to go.”

His shell shocked expression instantly sharpens, neck craning around the room. “Who was it?”

“It doesn’t matter—“

“Sylvie, if someone was bothering you I need to know.”

“They were just...staring but it felt invasive. Back corner table to your left,” she murmurs, pointedly not glancing over at them.

“Ah, a group of trust fund pricks, makes sense,” Matt scoffs, edging closer to her and tossing a protective glare at the men. “Assholes.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been out and this dressed up,” she says with a tired sigh. “I think I got a little too excited. Should have gone with something more conservative.”

“Because of those jackasses?” Matt asks, brow furrowing in disapproval. “It’s not yours or anyone else’s fault that they can’t be respectful. You should wear what you want. Their bad behavior has nothing to do with you.”

His old fashioned is set down in front of him and he takes a moment to focus on the glass instead of her, fumbling over his words slightly. “Besides, uh, I think you look really great — stunning, even.” He clears his throat as he cheeks color and she thinks he looks adorably shy. “Dark blue is always a good color on you.”

“Thank you, Matt,” she says while an affectionate grin slides over her face.

He nods and takes a considerable gulp of his drink before replying. “You’re welcome.”

“You look good too,” she assures him, leaning back to get another good look at his trousers, light blue dress shirt, and suit jacket. “The shirt brings out your eyes.”

The only thing missing from his look is a tie, but if she’s honest she finds his open unbuttoned collar much more appealing anyway. It allows her to get a peek at his chest, which is not at all an unappealing sight. Not that she should be thinking such things. Ugh. She’s supposed to be getting over him. Not...whatever this is.

Their eyes connect and then appraise each other again. His eyes are darkening and she can feel her entire body flushing. He truly does look a bit dapper tonight. It reminds her of Joe and Chloe’s wedding and how every time she’d danced it had been with him.

She knows now that she hadn’t imagined the coiling build up of tension between them and that his hand constantly finding its way to the small of her back had meant something. At the time, she told herself she was being silly but now with all that’s transpired since she knows he felt the heady heat of attraction too.

The same heat she’s feeling right now, in fact.

He leans further into her space, tilting his face toward hers. “I really want to kiss you right now.” He gulps. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks now actually. I haven’t been able to think about anything else, if I’m honest.”

“We shouldn’t,” Sylvie replies, biting her bottom lip. “Nothing’s changed since our last talk.”

“You don’t know that,” he insists, in a hoarse gentle voice. “You’ve been too busy avoiding me to ask.”

She arches her neck back to get a long look at his entire face. Her eyes search his expression for any hint of what he means, but aside from the longing and the lust in his stare she doesn’t find a single clue.

“What do you mean? Should I ask? Because if I do and your answer is the same—“

“I think we got our wires crossed. I think you asked one question and I, in all my stupidity, heard a different one,” Matt supplies, cutting her off. “You think my answer meant I’m still in love with Gabby but in my mind I said something else. In my mind, I was trying to tell you that I will always love Gabby and care for her as I would any other friend. It’s complicated because she and I went through a lot together and I can’t forget that relationship ever happened. I learned so much from the mistakes she and I made—If I forget it then history will keep repeating itself and that’s the last thing I want. Especially with you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to forget her,” Sylvie clarifies. It never would have occurred to her that he might think that. “I just don’t want to be with someone who will always be wishing that I’m someone else. I want someone who wants me as much as I want them. I deserve that. What I don’t deserve is to be left in the dust should Gabby ever decide to come back.”

“That’s never going to happen,” Matt replies confidently.

“She came back last year, Matt. It’s possible—“

“No, not Gabby coming back. I’m sure that will happen. I wasn’t talking about her.”

“I don’t understand.”

He huffs and chuckles dryly, sounding affectionately exasperated. “I would never leave you in the dust, Sylvie. I need you too much to walk away. You have this idea that you’re somehow second best, and maybe that’s on me, but I promise you that you aren’t. You stand completely alone in my mind. So much so that when you’re around it’s hard to notice anyone else exists. If anything, no one else comes close to you.”

Her eyes start watering at his words. He’s managed to say everything she ever wanted to hear. But even in her wildest dreams it hadn’t sounded that beautiful or felt quite so satisfying.

She leans back in, pressing her forehead to his. “You should definitely kiss me now.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, a hungry expression overtaking his face. “There’s no going back this time. If you ask me for space I’m going to push through it. I’m going to fight for you.”

A thrill runs up her spine. He said those words with such determination. God, he truly does want her, doesn’t he?

“I’m sure, Matt,” she answers, reaching up to run her hands through his hair. “Kiss me.”

And then he does. Somehow, it’s even more perfect than the first time. Her fear and hesitation are gone and she can pour her entire being into him. All her walls are down. She tried to move on from Matt Case, but she should have known she never would. No one else makes her feel secure enough to drop all of her walls. Only Matt.

From now on, there’s only Matt.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Book Four - Part 13

Trick breaks free. Then the real fight begins.

Tws for torture, possession, and blood.

Part 13 - Chase

Anonymous asked: Remember Trick, Chase. In the battle against your own mind, only one person can win. Don't let it, let him, destroy you.

“Here you go, my darling.”

Shifting and whispers in the bed beside him. His eyes slide slowly open, sticky with sleep.

“Nobody will take you away,” Anti is purring to Dapper, clipping tiny cameras to his shirt and the pocket of his pants. “I’ll be watching the three of you all day. Oh, my Trickster’s awake.”

He leans over to kiss Chase’s head, scratching at his scalp. “At least you never cause me any problems. Be good. I’ll be back later.”

“Anti,” croaks Chase, rubbing at his eyes.

“What?”

“I’m really hungry.”

“You eat a lot more than Dapper, you know. But then again, he doesn’t age. He’s low-maintenance. Even the scars tend to fade off him, and he goes all pretty and soft again.” Anti pauses, glancing around the room. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. You can get something from the kitchen. Just don’t let Dapper out.”

“Can’t you bring me something?” asks Trick weakly. “I’m having a down day.”

He can feel it already, his depression getting a tighter and tighter grip on him. He just wants to be taken care of for a little while. Coaxed out of bed and into the shower, brought food and massaged. He knows someone should be here helping him. Knowing what to do. Anti?

“I have to deal with your miserable brothers today,” murmurs Anti, leaning in to nuzzle together once again. “But in a couple weeks, when we’re out of here, I’ll spoil the pair of you all you want and then some. Give master kiss.”

Trick presses his mouth uncertainly to Anti’s cheek, at least soothed a little by the contact, but all too soon Anti is drawing away.

“Have a good day. I love you, Anti.”

He glitches out of view, turning only to flash Trick a smile before he vanishes into color and smoke.

Trick stares after him, numb.

Dapper’s very deeply asleep beside him, face drawn. Anti was talking to him while he wasn’t even awake.

Trick hides beside his brother’s arm and tries to go back to sleep. There’s a faint noise in the edges of his hearing like a faint whimpering, but it scares him too much to think about. He just wants to be unconscious again.

Battle for his mind. Ha. He can’t fight for anything right now.

“Anti’s fucking right,” he whispers. “I am broken.”

Anonymous asked: You will make it through, Chase Brody. You are a survivor through-and-through, and sure you may have had to change for survival a few times, but you are still the strong man with a protective gun in hand, the protagonist enough to lead the story and still be you after all this time. Jack made you for happy endings. And goddamnit you are going to have one, no matter how long the story takes.

Trick glances over at you, eyes dull. He supposes he has survived a lot. But protagonist - he can’t do that. He can’t be that. Right now, all he can do is lie in this bed.

He’s too scared to get up. He’s scared to check Dapper’s pulse and find it fading. Scared to look out his window and feel himself go weak with the confusion and distress from that body on the porch. Scared to see a calendar and know how long he’s been here, here, here, just… rotting.

Just him in this silent room, with moments of Dapper’s company to comfort him, and then silence again. His stomach groans as though to mock him.

“Happy endings,” he whispers, rubbing at his face.

He dreams of that warm smell on a baby’s head and hands pressed into the muscles of his shoulders. Dreams of a soothing mixture of English, German, and BSL to soothe him. Dreams of strawberry shortcake and cats curling up on his lap, of trees with no monsters in them. He would really like that. He would really like a happy ending.

Anonymous asked: Anti hasn't talked about that night because he doesn't actually want to make things better, Trick. He just wants to make you forget everything he's done to you so he never has to apologise. He does it to all of you. He doesn't want to make things better, he just wants to force you to forget, force you to love him. Anti is an abuser. All he will ever do is hurt you worse.

“That night…” mumbles Trick.

He glances down at the deep, ugly burn scar on his hand.

“If I try to go I think he’ll hurt me worse,” Trick whispers, blinking wetly at that old memory in his hand. “I’m scared of him. So angry. He does so many things when he’s angry…”

He hears faint flickers of screams, sees old traces of blood and injuries, watches Dapper’s hands cry for mercy. He curls down tighter against his brother, shuddering.

“I think he will hurt me again,” he croaks out. “You know, I really think he will. I’m scared. I think maybe I wish I could have a little time away? Like Dok and Red and Blue? But then Anti was only more angry. And he makes my head so confused. But you know, I think you’re right. I think maybe he’s always going to be someone who hurts me. I don’t know why we make him so, so angry, but yeah, I think maybe he’s being mean.”

Trick’s eyes well up with tears - and, for a second, a flash of his old ferocity, like the bitter, hurting Trick who crouched against the windowsill in that house near the sea in Norway.

“He makes me do things I don’t want to do and he hurts me and my brothers. Why does he do that? I’m trying to be good. He’s - he’s being a dick. He really is. I think maybe he hurt Dok really really bad.”

Tears begin to drizzle down his cheeks. He turns away from you, panting.

“Fuck him. What the hell? I don’t know what’s so wrong with me, but Dok is sweet. Dapper’s sweet. This is… oh, holy shit, this is all so, so fucked up…”

Anonymous asked: Is it really 'stopping the pain' if it was caused by him in the first place, Trick? Is it really 'stopping the pain' if he's made you forget nearly everything you loved, destroyed and hurt your family, and made you spill the blood of all those innocent lives? Are his lies enough for you?

Trick wipes at his face, feeling pathetic and low.

“He used to stop all the pain,” he says. “And I would float in that haze for days, feeling good, feeling okay, with just these moments where I got the sense that something was totally wrong. Like I was living a life I wasn’t supposed to, cause some god stuck me in the wrong skin or something. But he made it stop hurting. And when we hung out, I’d feel happy and we’d have fun. He’s funny, did you know that? He’s really funny and he can be sweet too. Cause when he’s feeling fond of you, all he wants to do is have you close to him and give you things you want. He glows when you praise him and treat him soft. I thought maybe it was the two of us, right? Like we made each other happy. That’s what I thought.”

He stares out the window at the trees and the golden light of a world that feels miles away.

“But I can’t watch him hurt my brothers anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t think he realizes that that’s what really destroys me. He thinks if he just treats me nice, that’ll be everything I need. Why… why would he lock me away like this? And hurt them like that? Didn’t we do our best? For months now, months and months? Didn’t I love him? All I ever wanted was to make him happy. Now he tells me he has to take me away from the people who make me happy for his sake.

He closes his eyes. A sliver of that faraway sunlight touches him, running over his cheek.

“I don’t think this is going to be enough for me. I can’t stay in this room much longer. And I keep thinking ‘well, surely he won’t make me a prisoner forever’ - and then I look over at him.”

Dapper’s mouth is parted with sleep, his face ashy and hollow. Trick manages to sit up for the first time in more than twelve hours to pull him into his lap and rock him, bent low over his thin little body.

Anonymous asked: Even if it doesn't look like the abuse you've suffered in the past, Anti is emotionally abusing and gaslighting you constantly. The feeling you have that you don't understand anything that's going on and don't know the truth? That's caused by the level of gaslighting you're going through. Being less confident, not feeling like the person you used to be, like everything you do is wrong, making excuses for him, isolation from your family, denying actions you /saw/ him do. It's gaslighting. Abuse.

“Denying actions I saw him do?”

Trick stares out the window, picking at his lip. Pick, pick, picking at his mouth until the blood seeps against his fingernails.

He sighs and shrugs his shoulders, shaking his head like he’s trying to throw the thoughts off. After a few minutes, his discomfort overcomes his exhaustion and he gets up to use the bathroom, leaving Dapper gently propped up against the pillows like a time-traveling Sleeping Beauty.

Trick comes back paler than he was before and sits down hard on the side of the bed, eyes glazed over.

“Anti chained Red and Dapper in the bathtub for a whole night cause they tried to sneak him his Haldol. That’s why Dapper’s arm is busted. Then he told me he’d kill Dok in our sleep if I didn’t take off his necklaces.”

Anonymous asked: When an abuser constantly insists that they love you, your mind learns to rationalize that any abuse is excusable because "they must love me!" in order to keep mental pain at bay. You learn to rationalize that abuse and love can ever co-exist for the sake of your own heart. But the abuser does not love you. Love and abuse cannot co-exist. 'Family' or not, Anti is an abuser, Trick. A violent, physical one. Eventually youll have to choose between real love, & an endless cycle of excusing abuse.

“No, oh, no,” whispers Trick, grabbing at his head. It hurts! There is a wound opening up inside his head, a mallet pounding down against something deeply sealed, a fire burning at his memories. “No, we did love each other. He’s being so horrible, but he… loves us. No, he doesn’t. He loves me? How could he treat me so well when things are good if he doesn’t? He wants to keep me. He loves me.”

But this cycle - this cycle!

He hears a girl laughing. She smells like good cooking and library books. He’s the one making her laugh and it lights his chest up. He presses his mouth to the soft skin of her cheek and she smiles and touches his hand. They say goodbye. Anti slaps him so hard he crashes to the ground. He hears Blue screaming for him to stop, but Anti doesn’t listen. Trick forgot by the next morning.

Trick clutches his head. His fingers intertwine with green hair. “No, no, no. What is he making me forget? He’s - what - what is he trying to turn me into? Please, please get him for me, tell him I need him to clear my head. No - no, but he makes me forget, or - or these are just nightmares. These aren’t real. These are just… just…”

Anonymous asked: It wasn't a nightmare. Don't let him control your head. Don't let him win, Trick. He's been hypnotising you, in your head nearly every single day. Don't you remember when you hated it? When you would cry every time someone was possessed, when him being in your head nearly caused you to kill yourself? Anti doesn't "make the pain stop", he just erases it, destroys it, destroys your sense of self and your freedom over your own mind.

“No, come on,” begs Trick, shaking his head, feeling himself beginning to shake. He needs to lie back down again. He hides under the covers, still holding his skull. “No, that’s not true. I don’t want it to be true. I’m scared. I can’t fight him if he’s really like that. He’s going to hurt me and my family. What do I do? Oh, no, no! He’ll get in my head again - I’m going to forget again and just keep letting him hurt us! Dapper - Dapper’s been stuck in one room for months and months, I have to - I can’t protect anyone, no, he’ll make me forget. He controls me. He’s right, I’m just a fucking puppet. I don’t control my own thoughts anymore…”

Anonymous asked: I'm curious about something, Trick. I'm not even sure if you still remember but there was a girl who Anti captured who you guarded and were told to kill when you all left the area... but you didn't, and you let her go instead. Did she say something to you? What made you directly disobey Anti that day?

Trick looks up at you, astonished. He bites down on his nail, turning away.

“You’re right… shit, what happened?”

Flowers and plants bursting from the earth. Blue’s eyes full of despair moments before glazing over with Anti’s shadow. In the shed, the girl looked back at him, her eyes raised.

“I think she said she wanted to go home to her family,” says Trick. “Or did I imagine that? That she said she had a family to go home to, a family that was looking for her and scared for her? She was all covered up in cuts. Anti used to make Dok do that to people. It was terrible. He would go so wild as he tortured them, just like Anti wanted, but then afterwards he would just shake and shake and shake for days in silence, stuck as deep in his own head as he put his scalpel into Anti’s prisoners. One time, he became convinced there was some sort of infection inside himself that he needed to cut out. I found him in the bathroom, completely delusional, completely incoherent, his scalpel stuck inside his thigh, splurting blood everywhere. I don’t think Anti even said anything about it… Dok cut up someone else that next day. It was always cruel, the torture. For Dok, for his victims. I remember that girl all covered in Dapper’s cuts.

“And I guess I thought I could get away with it. We were all leaving, so why not leave her? But then she brought the magicians. It was my fault she took Dok away.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, head aching.

“And Anti kicked Dap, didn’t he?” he asks faintly. “Maybe I was just angry at him. Like the fire. I didn’t set the fire for Dok, I just wanted to tick Anti off. I don’t know if I left the girl alive because I felt sorry for her or because I wanted to tick Anti off. I think sometimes I do. I think sometimes I want to get him back for all the things he’s done to us.”

As the memories come back to him, so too do the feelings, and with the feelings, a glimpse of reality.

Anonymous asked: Henrik, you can gift your necklaces to other people right? What if you gifted the protection over heart and head to Trick? That might be the only way to keep Anti out of him. I don't think he can fully fight it alone.

Blue eyes slide open on the porch.

Crusted and red. Bloodied on one side.

Henrik’s mouth barely parts. He tilts his head back, trying to readjust, and barbed wire pokes into his cheek, sending blood down his lips, tracing the pale outline of his mouth.

His necklaces hang off his throat. His last, solitary comfort and protection. You want them for his brother?

You must ask someone still standing to be selfless. He can’t care for anyone right now and he’s done his share of the sacrifice. Will you see to it that he is buried by the Chevra Kadisha after Anti kills him? It is his last request. His eyes have gone faraway from you, the pupils shrunk, and he stares at you like a hawk who can see the whole world beneath its endless gaze.

Anonymous asked: Who was it that said the line ‘anti tortured my brothers and made them thank him for it’ ? Cos I think u need to remember that one rn

“I guess he did,” answers Trick faintly. “He’s cruel on purpose. It’s not… it’s not his temper. He thinks it’s funny.”

aether-mae asked: Trick, as much as I love seeing you remember the truth, it’s all for naught if you don’t have a way to get free from Anti. We’ve brought you out of your hazes before only for him to drag you right back in. If you can reach enough clarity, please, please, get the fuck away from him (and bring dapper with you), otherwise we’ll be back to square one again

Trick’s eyes flicker. He looks over at Dapper, chewing on his nails.

“Can’t get out of the house with all the cameras,” he murmurs. “Can I? But I’m allowed go downstairs a little. He’s not, but I am. I don’t know how I could… can’t Red and Blue just come get me, please?”

aether-mae asked: Uhh noodle poodle, come back here please. There’s Dark things in the woods. Hopefully they like kittens..

You hear Trick gasp so hard it’s almost a scream.

“Holy shit!” he sobs. “My cat! Where is my cat, oh no, no, no!”

He scrambles to the door, pulling it open. Panting, he stands outside the room and clicks and kisses for his cat, calling for him like he always does. But Noodle doesn’t come running.

“He’s in the woods?” cries Trick. “My kitten is in the woods? Did Anti hurt him? Is he alive? Noodle! Come here, baby, daddy’s here! Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. I’m going to throw up. My cat, my baby.”

Anonymous asked: There was also a boy once, Trick. A kid you ran into when you robbed the pharmacy. I know you ran to avoid getting caught but I think partially it was because the name he had was familiar to you, in the same way your crinkle paper is familiar to you. No matter how Anti tries to shut your memories away, certain things always seem to linger.

Trick whimpers, shaking his head. Yes, he remembers. It hurt for a long time. It hurt for a long time even before that happened, before he even had that one name to cling to. There has always been a hole in his heart, for as long as he can remember.

But then he had his cat!

Having something to care for soothed him more than was probably healthy. He’s lost hope that he’ll see his children again, but his cat -

“I have to get my cat,” he cries. “I have to get away from Anti or he’ll leave my cat behind to die.”

And, on shaking legs, he begins his way down those great stairs, calling for Pot Noodle.

Anonymous asked: Anti took your children from you. Anti took your family from you, all of your friends, your life, your happiness. He took it all and filled your brain with false joy and lies all to make you a mimicry of Jack that he can pretend to control. Break free from him, Trick. Protect your real family.

The house is in ruins.

He doesn’t know when or how it happened. Struggles between Anti and his brothers, maybe, or just Anti himself lashing out. Maybe even Noodle caused some of the damage, in those first days where he was waiting for Chase to get out of the upstairs room and look after him. Some of it is just neglect.

The plant by the entryway door has fallen to its side and broken, the dirt spilling out across the filthy hardwood floors. A light is smashed above it and Trick can smell something like rot and spoiled milk in the air. There’s blood on the coat hanger.

Trick passes his hand over the wall, stepping through his broken home.

Here’s Red and Blue’s room. He remembers curling up with Red on the nights when Dok and Blue were both taken away from them. The room was cool and clean, Red meticulous in his organization and precise in his temperature control. They took what little comforts they could when they could hear their twins crying out from upstairs. Today, the room is in ruins. The sheets are torn off the bed and someone has been scratching at the door, leaving nail marks in the side, one hinge busted entirely. The drawers have been ripped open and the lamp is on its side, broken like it was used as a battering ram.

This home was so beautiful when they moved in, or Trick thought it was. And after everything that happened, he thought that maybe, just maybe, they would have a few months of peace and quiet, warm with the California sun and the love between them. It should have been idyllic.

He’s living in a fucking nightmare.

The basement is surprisingly clean, though Noodle’s sand box is full and his empty dishes have been pushed around and flipped in frustration by a hungry cat. But his and Dok’s bed is still untouched.

They would lie together. He would tell Dok about Anti. Dok would tell him about comfort and freedom and the future he wanted. Trick had barely even been able to listen at the time, ensnared in Anti’s power and his own self-delusions.

He puts his hand down on the mattress. His eyes water and spill over.

This was real family.

Anonymous asked: you were his nurse, trick. you were more than that. you loved him more than anti. you loved dok more than anyone. anti is torturing him, your real twin. anti is trying to force you to forget how much you loved him so that you'll be complacent. don't sit down and take it. fight for your family trick. see how horrible anti has treated you all for years and fight it with all your might.

“Dok was my twin,” he croaks out.

They would hold each other through the worst nights, whispering reassurances and secret sedition to each other, taking care of each other on their down days, days of blood and an exhaustion so deep as to eat holes in you. Dok - Henrik - was everything to him, when he had no one else to turn to. How did he ever forget, even for a hazy moment?

“Dok is my family. Anyone who hurts him like this does not belong. Dok is my family and I have to protect him.”

He holds his head up, breathing deep and closing his eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

Anonymous asked: Red, Blue, and Henrik have done it and you can do, Trick. I feel like this is a truth you always knew. Anti is a snake in the rabbit's den. Anti is a falsity haphazardly placed inside the truth of your brotherhood. Anti does not love you, even if he seems 'fond' whenever you're under his control. He doesn't love you, he wants to control you.

Trick runs his hand through his hair, trying to think. “You’re right,” he murmurs. “And soon, he’ll come back and put me under his control again. I’ll be all confused and listless again, forgetting everything that matters so I can be his. I - I have to act right now. Right now, today. Before he tries to destroy me again.”

Anonymous asked: (1) Anti needs you to believe you'd be nothing without him. He needs you all to believe he is in charge and he is special and free from the rules because it fits his world view, where he's the all-powerful, in charge of everything. But you're not truly under his control. Trick, Dapper, Red, any of you, can be free at any time if you stop conforming to Anti's self-imposed world view. Anti treats you like a means to an end, you're only with him to satisfy his needs, to be the person he wants.

“He can force me to believe what he wants,” says Trick, treading back up the stairs. He’s so hungry he can barely think straight, so he’s decided to do what Dok would want him to do and try to find some breakfast while he thinks. “I need help to keep him out of my head, that’s the truth of it. In Singapore, Blue was the only anchor I had who kept me from getting completely lost in his power. Dapper will help me if he’s up to it, I know that now. I’ll get him some food too. I have to figure out what to do. I have to…”

He stares around himself at the prison of his home. The kitchen is absolutely wrecked, the fridge door left open so everything has gone bad. The stench of meat makes him gag. He grabs a tray of stale muffins and fills up a big water bottle before heading back towards his room, sitting shakily down on the bed.

“Need to get out of the house,” he whispers, his eyes flickering around to the cameras in the room. “Need to stop Dok from being his hostage. But he’s always watching. I have to distract him somehow. Or be very, very quick.”

Anonymous asked: Anti said he'll finish Henrik off if Red or Blue even try coming close to the house. You can't rely solely on their help to get you out.

Trick curls in on himself a little, his anxiety spiking.

“That’s why they haven’t come to get me. They can’t even get close. They… they can’t help me at all while Dok’s on the porch. I have to go get him. But I don’t know how. Dap - maybe Dap can reverse something for me when he gets up. Then I could try a couple times over and figure out what works. I’d feel so much safer. I’m pretty scared. Anti’s really going to beat me if he finds out. He’s focused on Dok right now, right? Not reading messages or anything? I think he’s been hunting Red and Blue in the forest.”

He rubs at his face and takes a big bite of his muffin, his mouth flooding with saliva at the relief of having food again. They finished off Dapper’s snacks early yesterday. Trick was getting about ready to try that rotted cheese he had in the drawers. He chugs half the water bottle and touches Dapper’s shoulder, trying to wake him.

“Hey, little man. Let’s see if we can’t get some food in your tummy, yeah? Dap, here I am.”

Anonymous asked: cracked screen cracked screen cracked screen-

For context, the moderator had, at this point, changed the blog icon from a square of glitches to a square of glitches with cracks through it, like a broken phone screen.

“Is it cracked?”

Trick peers at his camcorder, finding the lens intact.

“Looks okay from my side of things, but there’s a lot of different cameras in this house.”

He feels movement in the bed beside him and turns to see Dapper squinting at him, blinking as he comes back to consciousness.

“That is some truly fantastic bedhead, my man.”

Dapper manages a faint smile for him.

“There’s my guy. Come on, bud, let’s get you sitting up and get you some water.”

He pulls Dapper up against the headboard, propping his pillows up behind him. “How are you feeling?”

“Little better,” answers Dapper.

“Here, have some water. Is that true that you don’t eat as much cause you don’t age?”

“I think so,” his brother says. “But I can’t be sure. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten much. Just survive off what Anti brings me. But I’m okay.”

“We’ll get you some food and clean up your bandages.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, Blue, if you could get to the house and provide a distraction, Trick is willing to jailbreak him, Dap, and Dok. Is that a possibility?

Blue sits up straight from where he was slouching in the lawn outside one of Dark’s houses, eyes lighting up.

“Yes, of course,” he breathes. “Whatever he needs. He’s really willing to go? I told you he was my little fighter, Ro! Let’s go now and we’ll get in a fight with Anti. I can light him up with my magic back.”

Jackie shifts against the tree he’s leaning on, more skeptical than his sibling. “I don’t know. They’re going to get hurt. If Anti catches them, we’ll have three brothers strung up on that porch. And I don’t think Dapper can take that right now.”

“First of all, have some faith in them,” says Blue, pinching Jackie’s wrist. “They’re tougher than you like to admit and they’ve been through a lot of dangerous situations and come out the other side. Secondly, we don’t have much choice here, my darling. We can’t get past Anti while he has a hostage. He’s willing to kill and the cameras are activated. We need Trick to get Dok to safety.”

“How the hell is he going to get out of that house?” asks Jackie, shaking his head. “Carrying Dok and supporting Dap? I don’t think he could get out if he were on his own. Anti will have his eyes on the cameras even while he’s fighting us.”

“Then Trick will have to be fast,” says Blue, getting to his feet. “And you and I will have to be very distracting.”

A smile curls onto Jackie’s face despite his trepidation.

“Well that,” he says, “I think we can do.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie if you know you can handle the backlash, then maybe taunting Anti about being not afraid, talking about beating him to essence in front of Jack, and being stronger than him, etc, has seemed to definitely do the job in the past.

Jackie starts laughing even as he shifts his weight from foot to foot and rocks on his heels. Blue watches him carefully to see if he’s getting overwhelmed, but he has it together.

“Oh, he’d be so mad.” Jackie rubs at his hair. “But… I guess that’s true, right? I beat him before. I did. We did! He should be scared. He can’t treat my family like this. We’ll go get him.”

He turns to smile at Blue. “Yeah. We’ll get him.”

Anonymous asked: Could Shep or Google sneak in and help Trick get the others out while you two distract Anti?

A window opens in the house above them.

“This isn’t a fucking crossover episode!” shouts Host. “Use your own characters! There’s a such thing as narrative integrity and I will not watch as it is - ”

“Gigi!” calls Blue. “You want to come help us with our brothers?”

Gigi appears in the doorway, letting Moses out of the house. “Sorry, not allowed. Dark doesn’t want me involved.”

“Come on, don’t be a sycophant,” says Blue, flashing Gigi a look that makes Ro roll his eyes. “You know, I think we could have some fun, Gigi. You don’t have to listen to Dark. We might really have a good time.”

Google shakes his head. “I’m good right here, thanks.”

“You like being Dark’s, Gigi?”

Google gazes at him, then across at Dark’s house, where Wilford is chasing the dog around the yard. The peach tree outside the house offers leaves to the wind, pink fruit bursting on its branches. Birds cascade around the roof and windows. The breeze stirs his hair.

“I’m good right here,” he says again, and you think you see, just for a moment, the flicker of a smile on his mouth.

“Well, what about Shep?” asks Blue, glancing around for him. “Host, where is he?”

“Out looking for that cat again,” answers Host. “I recommended he put some meat in a carrier and see what he catches. My bet is on possum, but I would also accept bear cub or porcupine.”

Anonymous asked: Shep? ...Did you ever find Noodle?

“Guess not,” sighs Blue. “Trick’s going to be broken-hearted if we don’t find that cat.”

“He’s been out alone in the forest for days now,” says Ro. “He’s a house-cat, never lived out on his own. Most likely he’s dead.”

“Ro,” snaps Blue, and then remembers to soften his voice. “Sorry, just - a little too blunt, love.”

“Sorry. Yeah, uh, we’ll find him! Somewhere.”

scunneredzombie asked: Trick, if your oldest brothers create a distraction would you run? Can you get away in the middle of a fight, if that breaks out? Blue has faith in you!

“I wish Blue was here,” says Trick quietly, staring out the window. “He’d make everything better. He always does.”

Anti was the one who made him sick… the memory of his body in the hospital feels suddenly overwhelming… Trick bows his head and sighs, clutching his shirt and wringing it between his hands.

“Run away in the middle of a fight,” he mumbles. “Away from Anti. I don’t know. I’m…”

Scared.

“Maybe that’s why he likes me so much,” he says. “Cause he knows I don’t have the guts to stand up to him. I always come back all warm to him. No matter what he does. Even in Norway, before he messed with my head like he has been lately, I was so hungry for any affection for him. Now I still can’t seem to run away. I’m sorry, I don’t - I don’t think I can do this.”

Warm fingers cup his chin. He turns and finds Dapper looking at him, smiling. His little brother’s fingers move back to stroke against the hairs at the nap of his neck and Trick relaxes wearily, eyes sliding shut. He takes a deep breath. Dapper tugs gently at his hair and he opens his eyes to see him again.

“Can I tell you something?” he signs.

“Course, man.”

“When Anti caught you and Henrik, Red and I were both lost deep in his power. He had treated us very badly for a while, but as we came around and became more and more willing to do what he asked us to do - to be what he asked us to be - he started to become warm and loving with us. Our missions felt like adventures back then. Even the killing was satisfying. Red was having breakdowns most every night without ever being able to tell me why, but in the daytime, he and I were Anti’s monsters. In Italy and Denmark, we killed and stole like we were born to do it.

“You and Dok changed things. Anti was obsessed with Dok’s savagery as a torturer for some time, but as he watched it begin to destroy him, he got bored again. And you - ”

“Were always his little yellow-belly,” chuckles Trick. “He didn’t have any interest in me back then.”

“No,” protests Dapper, touching his chin again. “No, that’s not true. You only remember after he reset you. But Trick, you lasted longer than Dok and Red had before you lost the fight to Anti. You fought so hard, Trick. Fought him every step of the way. I think that was the first time I began to get my memories of who we had been back. Because you fight, Trick. You fight when you need to. That’s one of those things that Anti can’t take from you. And I think that’s one of the reasons he gets caught up in this fascination with you. Anti only respects power and ability. To him, you should be helpless, hopeless, lost all the time - a human being with no magic and a lot of pain going on in your head. But you still keep fighting. He can’t understand why. Why mortal things, despite all the suffering and weakness they have to go through, still find things in life worth fighting for.”

Trick stares at him, clinging to his words.

“Now, Trick, Chase, my brother - if you want, you and I can go with Anti. Maybe we could even convince Anti that Dark is right, and he shouldn’t kill the others. Maybe Anti could even make us feel happy for a while. If that’s what you want, you and I can go. I’ll stay with you. We’ll be family. And I think we could survive it.”

Dapper leans forward and lets their foreheads thunk together, just for a second.

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

Trick shakes his head slowly, tears dripping down his face.

“Because that’s not who you are.”

Trick shakes his head again. No. That’s not who he is. That’s not what he wants.

“Trick, I’m too sick to help reverse things right now. I’m sorry. And I know you’re tired too, and I know you’re scared. But Chase… your favorite person in the world is down there, hurt and alone, while Anti plans to kill him. He can’t stay there, not for another minute if we can help it. Right?”

“Right,” he whispers.

“So what are we going to do?”

Trick reaches up to hug him. For a minute, they just hold each other. Eyes closed. Hearts together.

“Dap, I’m not a fighter like you think I am,” whispers Trick. “I want to, I just - I know I can’t. I know I can’t do this.”

“Why? What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“Because - ”

His voice breaks. He draws back with tears in his eyes, holding on to his little brother.

“Dapper, I still love him. I still love Anti.”

“Oh, my brother.”

Dapper reaches out to cup his face in his hands.

“I do too. But we don’t have to stop loving him. We just have to look at him, and see what he truly is, beneath the idea of him we fell for - and then choose to love ourselves more.”

“What if he needs me?” whispers Trick. “What if I’m the only one who could save him from himself?”

“Dok needs you more,” says Dapper, and he presses his hand to Trick’s heart. “And today, you really are the only one who can save your twin.”

Anonymous asked: To Trick (and all who need to hear): Healing from pain is a choice, and it is up to you to consciously /decide/ that you deserve to move on from the weight and hurt you've dealt with for so long. Because you do. You deserve hope and love and freedom. But you have to choose it for yourself.

“You don’t deserve to be hurt for his sake when he doesn’t even want to be saved,” signs JJ, the pair of them sitting side-by-side in their monster’s bed. “They’re right and they always have been, even when you were too lost to realize. You deserve - we deserve - to be free and safe and cared for, Chase. So what are you choosing, my brother?”

“Hey,” whispers Trick.

“Yeah?”

“You’re really good at giving speeches.”

He gets to watch Dapper’s tired face light up with laughter. It makes him smile too. A moment later, they are locked against each other, giggling and rocking each other on the bed, faces squished together.

“You have to choose with me, then,” says Trick. “I know how long you’ve been scared and alone. You got to choose to fight with us today.”

Dapper wipes at tears on his face, hugging him tighter. He doesn’t want to let go just yet.

Anonymous asked: Dapper is right. Trick it takes a looong feckin time to stop loving people who've abused you. It takes even longer to love yourself again. But it's a choice you are capable of making. Choose to love your family, love yourself, more than you love the monster amongst you. Anti is a calloused, cold abuser who delights in pain and cruelty. No amount of love will save him from himself. Go and be with the people who loved Chase before you ever had to be Trick to survive.

“You and the others are the only hope that I have held onto for long years now,” signs Dapper, stuck fast to him. “If you’re ready, then I am too. I’m not sure I can do much, but what I can, I will.”

“Okay, then - then me too, me too,” whispers Trick, wrapping him up again. “Me too. Okay, I’m stuttering like fuck, haha. You gotta give me a minute. Just to breathe. Then - then I’m ready. Okay.”

“You should change out of your pjs, maybe,” Dapper recommends.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Alright, shit. Do you have everything you need if I go get him?”

“I’m okay. I want you to worry about Dok first.”

“No way, you’re just as important as he is.”

“Thank you, but Dok’s in a lot more danger than I am with Anti. Anti won’t kill me, I’m fairly sure. If it comes down to it, get him to safety first and worry about me later.”

“No, I won’t do that.”

“We’ll see what happens, alright? Now go get ready, quickly. I’m sure big brother will be here soon to make a mess and cause problems.”

“His specialties.”

Trick hugs him one more time before getting out of bed, leaving you beside Dapper as he goes to change.

Anonymous asked: Good luck!!!

Chase gives a small laugh.

It seems almost too little, but almost too much: good luck. He needs it more than he knows how to express.

But he is also the gunman, the guard dog, the father, the nurse. He is a fighter and a softie too. He needs luck. He needs hope. He needs courage. He will find them.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He’s wearing one of Jamie’s blue hoodies, basketball shorts, and worn, well-kept, fading Converse. He has no weapons and no magic.

For the first time in days, he dares to search for his twin’s body outside his window. He can see very little of him from this angle, but he knows him nonetheless. So fucking still. Why is the deck red beneath his unmoving hands?

“Go,” signs Jamie. “Look, in the woods.”

In the woods, movement. Anti appears from the air in front of the trees, eyes narrowed.

“I know you’re there!” they hear him shout from far away. “I can see both of you with the cameras I have in the trees! You’ll never get close to him before I can transport back and stop you! Neither of you will get out of my gaze.”

“He is watching for Red and Blue, as long as they keep him distracted,” signs JJ. “He knows all the magic and help they have. They will not be able to get to Dok on their own. Go, while he is so focused on them he feels safe.”

Trick hugs him one more time before moving towards the door.

“I’ll come back for you,” he vows. “Nobody’s getting left behind this time.”

“Please don’t worry about me.”

“No, Dapper - ”

He turns back to him and takes his face in his hands, drawing his gaze up.

“Don’t give up,” he says softly. “No resigning yourself to anything. Today, you find some hope, okay?”

Dapper bites his mouth. He nods, just once.

“I will come back for you and you will be ready to go. Okay?”

“Okay. Okay. Yes.”

They pull away. Chase goes.

JJ stares after him for a long time, hands clenched.

Then he gets up and he gets dressed.

It feels very similar to stepping back from the edge of a cliff in Lima.

Anonymous asked: Speak of the devil, where is Anti anyway?

“Speak of the devil indeed!” calls Blue through the trees. “Who’s the guard dog now, bitch boy?”

Anti turns his head towards him, snarling, but Blue vanishes behind a wall of ivy. A rock thwacks into the side of Anti’s head and he yells, touching a patch of blood on his skull and then making it glitch out of existence once more.

“How long can you keep that up, do you think?” asks Red, taking aim once again from a slingshot borrowed from the twins. “Can you glitch all day? Or is it like after you stole Blue’s magic, where you got fucking exhausted and crawled away from the battle half-draped across Trick’s shoulders?”

“You’d be tired too if you fought off half a legion of magicians single-handedly,” spits back Anti, and despite the irritation they’re bringing him, there is some wild light coming back to his eyes, a light you have not seen since Jack was still filming videos of him. “I think I can handle one magician and his useless brother just fine.”

Jackie leaps out of the underbrush, swinging his staff and hollering a battle cry, and Anti lunges forward to meet him. A wolf closes its teeth around the staff, shoving him to the ground; fire lights up the wolf’s fur and makes it screech; Anti rolls away again to find Jackie slinking back - goddammit! These fucking annoyances. Fuck, fuck, but he’s glad to be trying to kill them again. There are hot tears in his eyes. He hates them. He will tear them apart like he always wanted.

He follows them farther into the woods, his cameras lighting up in the trees. As long as he has eyes on them, no one will take the ones who still belong to him.

Anonymous asked: Help is coming, Henrik. Your twin remembers you. We're going to get you out of here.

Those blue eyes slide open again.

He doesn’t know what relief feels like anymore.

But he still has that raven on his breast.

He will die his own man.

His eyes slide shut again.

Anonymous asked: Just hang in there a little longer Henrik. Everything will be okay

“Dok,” whispers a soft voice. “Dok. Deutsch. Henrik.”

He has been whittled down to his own faint breathing; it is the only sound or sensation still existing in his chest. In - out. Slower. In.

Out.

In.

Breathe.

“Dok, I’m here. I’m here.”

Warm hands on the side of his face, caressing him, holding him, around the bloodied barbs of the wire. One on the right is close to piercing his eye. He has been trying for days to stop it from getting too close. Now he can no longer feel it. Perhaps it has already blinded him. He can see very little.

“What happened to you, what happened? I’m here. Dok, I was wrong. I couldn’t see him. I’m sorry. I’m here now. We can go. We can go home.”

He has no words left.

“I’ll get you out. Quick, before Anti checks on you. Here I am.”

Chase.

Anonymous asked: You've got this Chase, go quiet, go fast! Be careful of his injuries, Anti has been torturing Henrik for a long while.

Chase grabs at his hair, tears wet in his eyes, and he curses himself for being a crybaby and a sycophant and a coward.

“I’m here now!” he repeats, almost screaming it, and you see him leap to his feet and turn towards the yard, picking up the shovel that Red was using last week when he decided to dig holes in the lawn to trip Dark’s soldiers. Trick turns back to his twin and stalks back onto the porch, drawing the shovel back like a spear. He thrusts it down with keen accuracy and slams the sturdy metal against the thin dog chain lanced around Henrik’s throat. Again and again, he brings that shovel down, finding the weak chain and snapping - snapping - snapping free!

He kicks the end of the chain off him, panting. He sinks back down to his knees, holding his brother again. Trick lets the barbed wire cut into his arms. It doesn’t matter anymore.

“Dok, hey, are you awake, even? Say something to me. Ich bin hier. I won’t leave again, not ever. Maybe you can’t talk right now. Sometimes you get like that. I don’t mind. I never minded. We take care of each other, right? Remember how you used to stay up with me so, so late and rub my shoulders just so I could relax? I was so scared of Anti finding that I hadn’t guarded all night I would stay awake for days at a time. You were my only comfort. I’m here.”

Fingers flicker against his waist. He touches his head against Dok’s, beginning to try and peel the barbed wire off him, but fuck, fuck! Every barb has to come out one at a time, slow and delicate, and he knows he’s hurting his brother from the way he starts to tremble beneath him. Trick’s fingers too are being cut open by the barbs, because it takes real force to begin unraveling these thick bindings, stronger even, perhaps, than the chain. He won’t be able to get this all off in an hour, let alone five minutes.

“I should have stopped this from happening,” sobs Trick, rocking him. “They’re right. Anti’s been torturing you for ages, especially since we came to this house. And I just waited for him to stop being angry. That’s all I did. I should have stopped him. He wanted to make sure you were punished just for trying to live your life without him. Is this the price he asks for? Look at you, my poor Deutsch…”

Wounds beneath the wire. Wounds and bruises beneath the wire. His left hand is swollen immovably, blue and black and red. He has been cut to pieces. Trick has looked at him for only a moment and found a half-dozen injuries.

“What do I do with you, Henrik? Tell me what to do. Come on, you were always the smart one. I won’t leave, okay? Even if he comes back and kills us both. I’m never leaving you again.”

Anonymous asked: Hey Dok? I don't know if you have a camera about you, but... Do you think it would ever be possible to give Trickshot the necklace that protects your head and heart? I don't know if he could ever be fully safe without that magical help. He's deep in the fire, man.

“No, let him keep them,” croaks Trick, stroking Dok’s hair. “They’re for him. They were presents for him. To protect them. You keep ‘em, Dok. I’m sorry I tried to take them from you. I thought I was keeping you safe, but there are more important things than surviving. You didn’t want him back in your head again. He never will be again. I swear.”

He clutches the two ravens on his brother’s heart. Today, the birds do not burn him.

Anonymous asked: Get Henrik and JJ out of there, Chase. The only place you can be safe is far away from him, otherwise there's a chance he'll get into your head again.

“If I carry him they will dig into his body even more.” Trick looks around for help, but he knows none is coming. “I need pliers or something, but where would I get them? Anti locked up everything that Dapper or I could hurt ourselves with. Shovel won’t work. I’ll just - I’ll just have to start pulling them out and hope I can tug him out or something soon. Right? What else do we have? What else can I do?”

Henrik’s tired red fingers rest over Trick’s, still pressed against the necklaces. Trick clings to him, hearing a rough sigh of relief press out of him. It is the only sign of life Henrik has given him other than his breathing. Their hands rest together.

aether-mae asked: Every day I wake up and pray this story isn’t a Shakespearean-esc tragedy. These boys are going to make it. They have to

“Right,” mumbles Trick. “We have to, we…”

Their hands rest together on the birds. He looks at Dok and sees blue eyes slide open.

They hold on to each other.

“You trust me?” whispers Trick.

Dok breathes.

In.

Out.

His body, stiff and aching, relaxes against his brother’s body. His eyes slip closed again, unafraid.

Yes. Of course.

Here they are.

Trick snaps the string of Dok’s second necklace.

Anonymous asked: You guys have been so distant lately. I'm happy for him to have you back Chase, even if just for the moment right now. Also, does JJ still have his lock picking set from Max? Maybe you could break into wherever Anti locked things away.

JJ is standing in the window of the room upstairs, throwing his shoes at the camera above the porch, trying to knock it down.

“I threw the lock pick off the side of a cliff, unfortunately,” he signs. “I was not very future-oriented at the time.”

He has run out of his own shoes. He heads to the closet to get the shoes of the man who used to live here, the man he killed, but when he runs back to the window with his arms full of dress shoes, his brothers are gone.

“Oh, I think he got him,” he says. “He really did move fast. Damn, maybe we should break into Anti’s things though. I’d really like to have some knives.”

Yelling and fighting in the forest outside, and then Anti’s shriek of anger.

Dapper stares out the window, head tilted up, trying to catch sight of someone. Anti flashes back to the porch, shouting threats, but Dok is already gone.

“No fucking way they got to him, I had my eyes on them,” he snarls.

He looks straight up at Dapper. Dapper backs away from the window and goes to hide in the closet. Trick bursts into the room about halfway through and they smack right into each other, skulls slamming together.

“Owwww,” groans Trick, clutching at his stomach.

“Trick! Watch it! Come here, he’s coming!”

Dapper grabs his brother and they slide into the closet, closing the door behind them and hunkering down beneath coats and shirts, hands clutched together.

“Where did he go?”

Anti is stalking around the house, his mouth full of poison and vitriol.

“What the fuck did you do? Who else is here? Dark, if this is you or any of your soldiers, I swear to hell I’ll kill the lot of you!”

They hear Anti shove the bedroom door open, snarling like an animal. He tears the room apart, doors slamming and furniture crashing to the floor. When he finds nothing, he turns towards the closet.

“Where is Dok?” asks Dapper. “Did you - ”

Anti forces his way inside, grabbing them both by the hair.

“Where the hell is he?”

“We don’t know, we don’t know!” cries Trick. “Ow, Anti, ow! He’s not here!”

“If I find out either of you had anything to do with this I’ll feed you to each other!” shouts Anti, throwing them back to the ground. Dapper grabs onto Trick’s shoulder and they press back against the wall, panting.

Anti pauses at the door, eyes flickering.

“What’s that smell?” he demands.

Trick and Dapper exchange glances.

“Moths?” signs Dapper weakly.

Anti stares around the closet, eyes narrow.

“If you catch sight of Dok, tell the cameras,” he says, turning to stalk away.

Trick slumps back against the wall, one hand over his mouth, one hand over his stomach. Dapper pulls him into a hug and they both try to calm down.

Anonymous asked: Is something wrong with your stomach, Chase?

“No, nothing’s wrong, thanks, I, uh - ”

“What are you holding?” asks Dapper, pushing at his hands. “Let me see.”

“No, JJ, stop being a little shit,” scowls Trick, pushing him back, before the sentence has left his mouth, Dapper has stopped still, staring at him.

“What?”

“JJ?” he signs.

“JJ? What’s JJ mean?”

“You just called me JJ.”

Chase blinks, hands loosening on his stomach. “Oh. Dapper, I meant. What’s JJ?”

Jameson looks away, mouth turning down.

“Is that… you? Is that your secret name?”

He’s looking back at him like he might reply when there’s movement in his hoodie. Chase clasps his hands over his tummy again, but too late.

The little white and grey head of a sleepy-looking rat pokes out of the side of Trick’s hoodie pocket.

“Oh,” breathes Dapper. “A baby!”

Trick looks desperately up at Dapper and sees nothing but delight in his eyes. He relaxes a little, letting out another long, shaky breath.

“It’s an important baby. We have to keep it safe.”

“Can I have it?” begs Dapper, cupping his hands.

“No, no,” says Trick hurriedly, holding his hands around the rat, stroking its white head with his thumb. “Gotta let him rest and hide, okay?”

“Little baby… what a pretty fancy rat. It looks kind of sick though. Will we keep him?”

“We’ll worry about that later, okay?”

“Cutie. I’m in love. Oh, don’t let Anti see, he’ll kill a little mouse.”

Anonymous asked: How goes the fight, Jackie & Blue? Anti seems utterly pissed

“Tell my brothers to get out of the house!” he calls. “We’re leaving today and we’re not coming back.”

Anti screams and glitches towards Jackie in a flash, but Jackie rolls away and Blue is there a moment later, intercepting Anti’s attack with fire and plant life, guarding his older brother.

“Feeling a little useless, I admit,” pants Jackie, circling and loading another stone in his slingshot. “He’s got a fuckton of magic, and me? I have this rock!”

He launches it at Anti and hits him dead on once more. Anti snarls and glitches the wound away, slicing through thick vines with a machete pulled from thin air.

“Your tricks won’t stop me!” he shouts, finding Blue on one of his cameras and transporting towards him, knife swinging.

“He’s not pissed!” Blue calls to you, taunting. “He’s just scared!”

Anti shouts and transforms into the wolf, launching himself at Blue, teeth snapping.

Anonymous asked: JJ is him, yes! Jameson Jackson!

“Jameson?” repeats Chase, and though he remembers very little, the name still seems to fit, somehow, in his mouth. “That’s… kind of awesome. You look like a JJ.”

Dapper seems particularly touched by this, his mouth drawing shyly up again.

“Do you know the others’ names too?”

“It’s not my place to tell you,” says Dapper, touching his cheek for a moment. “Give them time.”

“Well, should I call you JJ?”

He pauses, glancing away.

“I’m not… sure yet. Should I call you Chase?”

Trick stares at him, cupping the rat in his hand. The warm head drifts sleepily against his palm.

“I think that’d be okay,” he says. “Trick, he - he wasn’t always kind to you. I’d like for Chase to be better.”

He tucks the rat gently back into his hoodie.

“Get everything you need from the room and let’s go.” Chase pulls Dapper to his feet, stroking the rat in his pocket with long, soothing strokes of his thumb. “We might have to be away for a while, I don’t know.”

“I want a knife.”

“We’ll grab one from the kitchen.”

“Then I think I got everything in here.” JJ grabs a black coat from the closet. It’s too nice and warm to match his thin, worn t-shirt and the short sleep pants he’s wearing, but its pockets are stuffed full of what few things he has - his favorite chalks in a ziploc bag, one half of a torn prayer card, a wad of American cash, the picture of Eshe that Max gave him, a GoPro camera, and a few slips of paper Chase doesn’t recognize. He pulls them from the pocket, flipping them over.

“What are these?” he asks. “What - plane tickets?”

“Anti was going to take us back to England to kill Jack like he said.” Dapper taps the word ‘London’ on the tickets. “There’s four tickets. Figured I’d grab them. I don’t know, I just grabbed everything.”

“Clothes and drawing stuff and everything?”

“Still in the backpack.”

Trick swings the pack over his shoulders. He takes Dapper’s hand and holds the rat inside his pocket in the other.

“Here we are,” he tells them both softly. “Let’s go, okay?”

Dapper squeezes his hand. They race down the stairs together, heading for the backdoor, hoping Anti is still distracted long enough for them to reunite with Red and Blue.

In the trees, Anti sees them step out onto the porch. You see him stop short, expression contorting.

“Get back inside!” he shouts, moving towards them. Chase and JJ exchange glances.

Blue and Jackie are panting in the foliage, taking a second to breathe, already half-exhausted. Blue’s hair is singed from his own fire and his hands are heavy with weeds, while a fresh cut bleeds heavily across Jackie’s forehead, but he hardly seems to mind. There’s a vibrant ferocity burning in his eyes.

“Let’s go,” he coughs, staggering to his feet to race out and protect the others.

“Jackie, wait,” calls Blue, pulling him back down. Jackie looks at him, astounded.

“You called me - ”

“Listen, is this the talisman Dok gave you?”

Jackie touches the raven on his breast. “The necklace, yeah. It doesn’t have any more magic, though.”

Blue grabs his shoulder, looking up at him.

“You can use it, though. When you have it. You burn like a star. You’re my counterpart, my twin. I don’t care if Anti was the one who decided it at first. Now we decide it. You are the other part of me.”

“This is sweet, but my baby brothers are on the other side of Anti’s glare right now.”

“Give me the talisman. It can still hold magic. Take my fire.”

Jackie’s eyes go huge.

But only for a moment. He accepts the idea a moment later, blinking. Mind already ahead. Strategizing. Fighting. Leading again. Like he was always meant to do.

“If you can,” says Jackie softly, pressing the necklace into his brother’s fingers. “Then give it to me. And we will share this fight together, my Blue.”

Blue smiles at him.

And then he lets all the power he can give blaze into that necklace, and gives it to his other self.

“Let’s go.”

Anonymous asked: Go Jackieboy Man, protect your family!! You're a shooting star, Astrifer, and it's time to burn like one!

Ro liked having the light magic. He liked burning like a star. The magic felt like having a blanket of warmth wrapped around his whole body. But even then, that was Emmanuela’s magic, and this - this is Blue’s.

This is Marvin’s.

He would know it without sight or sound or touch. He would know it by the way it comforts him, just like Blue always has. He would know it by the way it makes him brave.

Flame follows Jackie out of the trees, his twin at his side, wreathed in bloom and thorn.

“Look at you two,” snarls Anti. “Aren’t you straight out of one of his stories? I should have known. None of us can avoid the destiny he set down for us. We were always going to end up right here once again.”

“This time,” says Blue. “We finish it.”

“When I raze you to the ground, we will call it finished.”

“Anti,” says Trick quietly, eyes wide. “Don’t, okay? Just - just stop, please. Dap and I don’t want you to hurt them. There’s things we won’t forgive.”

Anti turns to him, lips drawn back in indignant fury. “You little bitch. Don’t tell me what to do. You belong to me so keep your mouth shut.”

Trick’s mouth is tight and trembling. His eyes reflect the fire in Jackie’s hands.

“What if I’m not,” he says.

“What?”

“What if I don’t want to be yours anymore?”

Anti hears himself laugh. He’s shaking his head at Trick, eyes slightly confused. “What? Who told you to say that?”

Trick stands close to Dapper. Anti sees the same expression in their faces - wary and scared, yes, and then something harder underneath. Dapper’s eyes speak to him. After all these years, Anti does not need to look into his head. He can see the change in him.

“What are you doing?” he asks. “Where… did you go? Dapper?”

Dapper doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t comfort him. He steps slightly closer to Trick, head low.

“Get away from them, Anti,” says Jackie. “Just… hell, man, just go. Just leave us alone and don’t come back.”

“No, fuck that,” snaps Blue. “You stay and learn what it’s like to scream in fear all over again.”

Anti breathes out, chest shuddering. The fire freezes over in his bitter blue eyes.

He glitches and he grabs Trick and Dapper, wrapping one arm around Trick’s waits, hauling him off his feet, and grabbing Dapper by the hair.

“Anti, don’t do this!” screams Trick.

“You get the hell away from them!” shouts Jackie, fire lighting in his hair.

Everyone is shouting or signing or both, moving towards each other; fire and plant life and painfully-bright colors burst up around them, Anti has a blade to his little brother’s throat and -

Anti hollers in alarm as something sharp digs into his finger. He looks down at his hand around Trick’s stomach, startled.

“Rat!” he screams, dropping Trick and Dapper immediately, glitching all the way up to the roof of the house. “It bit me, it bit me! Fuck you, Trick, you hid that from me? You - ”

His eyes find the raven on Jackie’s sweatshirt.

Anti looks back at Trick, hiding that rat back against his stomach, eyes frantic.

“Dok,” hisses Anti. “You… you, Trick… you took him off the porch, you - all of you… all five of you, the ones that belong to Jack… traitors.”

ari-trash asked: Oh- oh my god, the last raven necklace! Dok is the rat?? Is he okay? D:

“Uhhh, no, this isn’t Dok!” says Trick hurriedly, pressing him down into his pocket. “He’s fine, I hid him! Dok’s not here and he’s definitely not this rat, no way.”

“You… turned my brother into a fucking rat?” says Blue.

“Hey, I got him safe! He trusts me! He’s fine. Aren’t you, Deutsch?”

The rat does look remarkably settled in that hoodie pocket, its tired eyes closed and its little body rising and falling with soft breaths. Anti is gripping his knife so tightly his fingernails cut into his palm, panting almost to the point of hyperventilation. Fuck, muscles and bones confining him, animal flesh coating him, caging him…

“You keep that thing away from me,” he warns. “Trick. Even Trick. Even Trick has… you really are just Jack’s, all of you. Dapper is the only one who… fuck you, fuck you…”

Jackie keeps his eyes trained on Anti as the others surround Trick and Dok, Blue desperately checking on the little body in Chase’s hoodie, stroking his little head and calling sympathies at his younger brother.

“Anti,” says Jackie.

“No, no, no,” Anti is chanting, pupils shot. “No, no, no.”

Anonymous asked: The time has come, Anti. You are alone, utterly fucking alone. As you always deserved to be. They won't take abuse from you any longer.

The trees are mocking him.

Monoliths erected in the deep rich earth, subject to the will of a magician and dotted in his cameras, playing out messages to him - alone, alone, alone.

He can hear laughter. His head spins. He runs his hands along the smooth cool surface of a pumpkin, turns his green eye toward you in a red hallway, sinks beneath Jameson’s skin, tilts his head at the Darkness and laughs, stares at you without saying a word, eye twitching. He hears Jack whispering his name and Chase asking who’s there, feels the heat of Marvin drawing away from his own prophecies in terror, smells the scrap paper and ink of a trashed research room with a doctor sitting at a table, trying to fix everything gone wrong.

And he remembers something unseen by the cameras as well, something you have only heard of - screaming out for Jack to save him while his body mangled into hollow bones and winged flesh, watching his creator turn away from him.

There was grief in Jack’s eyes, but no pity.

“No,” he groans. “I wiped all that away. I’m beyond it now. No. You don’t remember.”

He hears one of them breathing and the bloody beat of their mortal hearts.

“We don’t have to remember, Anti,” comes a small, sad voice. “Not the past. You’re right, it doesn’t matter. Not really. But Anti, we want… we want to be happy now. We don’t want to get hurt anymore. You have to let go of us, Anti. We won’t stay here anymore. They’re right… it’s done.”

His eyes flash open and he is present again, his shadow cast over the group of siblings standing below him, guarded and together, shoulder-to-shoulder, side-by-side. They all have the same blue eyes.

And he sees grief, and rage, and hurt, and fear, and love, and determination.

But no pity.

Not one fucking shred of their pity.

“Very well then,” he hears himself breathe out, and he watches alarm fill up their faces as his body begins to shift beyond his control. His face is twitching. He can feel it, but only distantly. He’s numb and his ears ring, high-pitched and screaming. His body distorts and spasms, blood racing down his ivory throat. “You want to play Jack’s games? Let’s play. I only need one of you. And he will be mine whether he wants to or not.”

Dapper steps back, shaking his head, but too late. Too late.

Anonymous asked: None of them belong to you. Not even Jameson. He always said the day the rest of them turn is the day he too abandons you. You don't own any of them, you utter mythic glitch bitch.

“Jameson!”

“Dapper!”

“Leave him alone!”

His body crashes to the ground, fingers scraping at his skull. He feels Anti in his head again, just like he has been since that first day.

“You will never get free of me,” he hears his Anti’s voice scratch at the inside of his brain.

“Stop, stop!” his hands cry. His brothers are screaming for him, crying out.

“Possessing him won’t do anything! We’ll stop you from hurting him!”

“You’ll just confine yourself to flesh, coward. Fight us in your real form!”

“Dapper doesn’t deserve to get hurt, let him go! You’d have to be able to possess all of us at once to get away with this, Anti. You can’t make us your slaves ever again!”

“Fine!” screams Anti’s voice from all around them, and Jackie, Marvin, and Chase all falter to the grass, grabbing at their heads. “You think I can’t? You think I won’t control you all at once with nothing but my own power? I never needed your faith! I will make you mindless!”

Jackie hollers in pain, his skull pounding with a terrible pressure. Chase is on his side, protesting with the voices he can hear. Marvin grips at the grass, shaking his head out, shaking, shaking, shaking.

“You’re - you’re losing control,” he gasps. “You’ll destroy yourself, Anti.”

A foot presses against his throat and chokes him. He opens his eyes, wheezing, and sees, looking back at him – himself. With green eyes and hatred in his face, glitching and broken, distorted and transparent, himself. Marvin and Anti and Blue all in the same being. Turning his gaze with a desperate cry, Blue sees broken beings like shadows standing around his brothers, too, dark versions of themselves, corrupted and in pain.

And he hears a bitter voice, his own bitter, aching voice, lonely and afraid:

“So be it.”

[driversmutbucket]

Kitten X

I can’t, and i can’t stress this enough, believe this frivolous ho has written a 10 part series. I mean, granted, a lot of it is straight porn. But still.  I love these two. Lets marry them.   Yes i did cry writing this because i am ridiculous and emotionally attached. 

To catch up on this series please refer to my master post. 

(this looks like a wedding photo right?!)

Kylo Ren AU x Reader Warnings: disgusting levels of fluff, mentions of pregnancy, NSFW

 9 months later

“Better late than never!” Your mom smiled as she laced up the back of your gown.

“Oh come on, I’m hardly an old maid at 34 mother.” you sighed, rolling your eyes. 

“I know, I know darling, we are very happy for you, your father and I. We were just worried we would be in the grave before you ever settled down” She patted your shoulder, “you look lovely.” 

-

Your parents were old school. You were their only child, and they had you later in life after a long battle with infertility. Had they planned your life things would be very different. They had found your focus on academia and career baffling, failing to understand how it was more fulfilling than settling down and starting a family. 

They meant well, they really did, and despite your contrasting beliefs on many matters, you remained close. 

Kylo had survived a family Christmas, your mom was particularly smitten with him. He had survived 1000 questions, photo albums, extremely dubious political chat and constant hints about grandchildren. Every night you had apologized profusely, he just chuckled and told you they really weren’t that bad. 

Kylo proposed in mid-January, booking out the entire the Italian restaurant you had your first date in. You had accepted through sobs, as the staff all clapped and cheered. 

-

It was now August, and the leaves were changing colour, the days slightly cooler and shorter. 

You had planned an intimate wedding in a downtown Hotel that you both loved the historical architecture of. In attendance were a handful of friends and family, uninterested in a big showy affair, you had opted on quality rather than quantity. 

Your metallic silk gown made you feel beautiful. The corset design accentuated your figure, and the deep v neckline was sexy yet tasteful. The gown evoked 1920s glamour, and you had your hair styled and makeup applied to echo the era.

Your father even became misty eyed when he saw you, “Like an old-hollywood beauty, you look lovely sweetheart.” He said gruffly, trying to discreetly dab his eyes. 

-

Heart pounding, you waited outside the doors of the small ceremony room clutching your father's arm. 

Cat Power - Sea of Love began to play softly. 

You were already blinking back tears as you stepped through the doors, Kylo’s head snapping up from where he stood at the front of the room. 

He didn’t, for one second, take his eyes off you as you made your ascent up the aisle. 

Kylo shook your father's hand when you made it to the front, he then placed his hand on the small of your back and leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“Y/n, babe, you look fucking incredible, so beautiful, Kitten.” 

“Thank you”, you beamed, “you look so handsome.”

He did. In a classic tuxedo, Kylo looked very dapper. His eyes shone with emotion. 

-

Time seemed to go at warp speed as you tried to soak everything up, remember every detail. How Kylo couldn’t take his eyes off you. How he whispered ‘my wife’ into your ear every so often, like he was in disbelief. How your mom and Jan clutched each other and dabbed their eyes during your vows. How Luke beamed at Kylo and clapped him on the back, expressing his pride. 

As Kylo took your hand for the first dance, your heart swelled as the opening notes of Into my arms by Nick Cave played. You had told Kylo to pick a song and not tell you what it was.

His arm circled your waist and pulled your body to his. 

I don't believe in an interventionist God But I know, darling, that you do But if I did, I would kneel down and ask Him Not to intervene when it came to you

Your eyes swam with tears for the upteenth time as he kissed the top of your head before resting his forehead against your own. 

“Don’t cry Kitten.” He teased, his own eyes glossy. 

You sang the words of the next verse softly to him. 

Oh, not to touch a hair on your head Leave you as you are If he felt he had to direct you Then direct you into my arms

As the chorus played tears were running silently down your cheeks now, as happiness, gratitude and love overwhelmed you.

Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms

Kylo wiped the tears away with his thumbs as he cupped your face, kissing your lips softly. 

And I don't believe in the existence of angels But looking at you I wonder if that's true

“My angel.” He hummed, before pressing another kiss on your lips.

But if I did I would summon them together And ask them to watch over you Both to each burn a candle for you To make bright and clear your path And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love And guide you into my arms

Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms

Other couples joined you on the floor, there weren’t many dry eyes to be seen. 

You chuckled softly, nodding towards Jan “you better dance with Jan after this baby.” 

Her face was blotchy from crying, as she looked on, radiating so much joy that Kylo couldn’t help but grin. 

But I believe in Love And I know that you do, too And I believe in some kind of path That we can walk down, me and you So keep your candles burning Make her journey bright and pure That she'll keep returning Always and evermore

“Perfect song choice.” You sighed, as it came to a close.

Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms, oh Lord Into my arms

-

You blinked and it was over. 

The honeymoon suite in the hotel was yours for the night.

“Let’s go consummate this holy union Mrs Ren” Kylo murmured playfully into your ear as you both walked into the elevator. 

You giggled, buzzed on the champagne coursing through your veins. 

“I can’t believe I have a husband.” You grinned, running your fingers down the lapels of his jacket. 

“Can’t believe I bagged such a fucking hot wife.” He mirrored your grin, eyes dancing with mischief as you slapped his chest in mock shock. 

The elevator dinged, and Kylo led you to the door of the suite.

“Can’t wait to kick these shoes off.” You sighed.

“Can’t wait to rip your dress off.” He replied, opening the door. 

“Rip this dress and I will divorce you, Ren.” you deadpanned. 

“You wound me, Kitten.” He winked, shrugging off his jacket.

You quickly stepped into the bathroom and slipped out of your dress. The lingerie beneath was as important as the dress. White and luxurious, the delicate lace bustier and thong accentuate your curves, stockings were held up by straps connected to the bustier. You primped your hair slightly before re-emerging and leaning against the door frame. 

“So what- oh fuuuuuuuuuck!” Kylo stopped dead, midway through undoing his cuff links. 

You raised your eyebrow with a smug smile, “what were you saying?”

“I was going to ask what you wanted to do…. if you wanted some more champagne.” He gestured blindly at the bottle next to the bed, eyes drinking you in.

“What I want,” you began walking toward him, as he sat on the edge of the bed, “is for my husband to make love to me,” You purred, stopping in front of him and bending over, resting your hands on his thighs, “then yes, I will have some more champagne, preferably in a bubble bath.”

“Babe, right now you could ask for anything and I would give it to you.” His voice a bit deeper, as you stood back up, his fingers ghosting down your sides. 

You did a slow twirl, “do you like?” 

He nodded dumbly, like his brain was short circuiting. 

Clutching your waist he pulled you between his legs and kissed along your collarbone. 

You loved how far his hands were able to reach around your waist, you felt so safe in those big hands. 

You sighed happily as his mouth moved down, teasing your covered nipples with his tongue.

Reaching for his shirt you began fumbling with his buttons, as his hands slid down and cupped your bottom, squeezing gently.

“Lay on the bed.” Kylo murmurs against your skin. 

You make a show of crawling into the middle of the plush mattress, wiggling your ass before laying down and propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“Fucking hellllllllllllll, that is my wife!” His smile devilish and smug and he strips off his remaining clothing. 

“Kylo?” he pauses and looks up, just as he is about to pull down his trousers. “I’m not on birth control anymore.” 

You chew your lip nervously as it dawns on him what you are insinuating. 

“Do you want to-” he began, eyes wide.

“I mean, only if-” 

“YES, yes! Fuck! babe, are you serious?” The hope and glee on Kylo’s face was enough to make you melt into a puddle. 

“I want nothing more than my husband to put a baby in me.” you couldn’t help grinning at how those words sounded coming out of your mouth, kind of ridiculous but kind of...erotic? 

Apparently Kylo found it very bloody erotic. He was buck naked in seconds and crawling over you, caging you beneath him, his rock hard cock prodding your stomach.

You arched your back as he dragged his nose down into the valley between your breasts, burying his face in between them with a soft moan. He unclasped your bra, tossing it off the bed while he admired your breasts, as they sat naturally. 

“Perfect tits.” he murmured, tweaking a nipple, you gasped- then whimpered as he quickly soothed the sting with his mouth. 

Gripping behind your knees, Kylo pushed your legs up and out beside your torso. He kept his hands there, spreading you wide, running his mouth over the lace of your thong as you desperately tried to thrust.

“These panties are very damp Kitten.” He breathed, finally letting go of your legs. “Hold your legs up for me.” You replaced his hands with your own.

He tugged the flimsy fabric aside and pressed a kiss on your clit. 

“Fuck.” You hissed. 

He pushed one finger, then another into your sopping cunt, scissoring them slightly to stretch you out.

Keeping his fingers inside you, working you into a fit of whines and whimpers, Kylo scaled your body, seeking your mouth with his own. Hot and heavy kisses as his fingers continued pumping, your hand wrapped around his hard length.

He removed his fingers and positioned you on your side so you were leaning into your elbow. He straddled your bottom leg and pulled the thong aside, pushing into your warmth with a grunt and he settled behind you. You twisted back so your mouths could meet again as his hand found your breast. 

It wasn’t fevered fucking, it was passionate and luxurious love making. His hand roaming your body, tracing your curves. His mouth kissed you, peppered kisses down your neck and over your shoulder. 

“My wife.” He murmured in your ear, on more than one occasion. 

You whimpered and moaned, the position meant he could get deep inside you, hit your g spot relentlessly as he thrust his hips. 

You came with a cry as his fingers expertly worked your clit, he followed soon after as your whispered sweet sentiments in his ear. 

The second he pulled out, he was elevating your hips, shoving pillows under your butt.

“Ahh...what the fuck are you doing?” you asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Keeping my cum in you.” he replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

You barked out a laugh, but he was deadly serious, “stay there and i’ll run the bath.”

You watched with an amused smile, from your ridiculous position as he grabbed the champagne and glasses and disappeared into the bathroom. 

-

As Kylo led you into the bathroom you gasped, there were candles on every surface and a small table next to the large bath held a bunch of roses, the champagne, strawberries and a gift bag. 

“Did you organise all this…” you looked at Kylo in wonder. 

He just nodded silently, studying your face as if to gauge your reaction. 

“This is beautiful, thank you.” you said softly, pressing a kiss on his lips. 

He began to undress you, pulling off the remainder of your lingerie before helping you into the large tub. 

“Oh my god this is heavenly!” you groaned, sinking into the hot water. Your aching feet from a day in heels soothed. 

Kylo pulled you into him and you rested your head back against his chest with a happy sigh. 

He reached and pulled a red box from the bag next to the bath. 

“Kitten, for you.” he smiled, as you hurriedly dried your hands and took the box. 

“Kylo! Jesus Christ!” you breathed, recognising the unmistakable design of the jewellery box as that of Cartier. 

You opened it slowly, revealing a beautiful gold necklace. The round pendant was inlaid with what was surely diamonds. You gaped at it, silently.

“Is it ok?” Kylo sounded slightly worried. 

You handed it to him blindly, “can you put it on me please, baby?” your voice wobbling. 

You traced the circle gently as he fastened it, before turning around completely, “what do you think?” you asked.

“Perfect.” he smiled adoringly. 

“I love it, but i didn’t get you anything! I feel-!” you fretted. 

“Y/n, you married me. That’s enough for me, forever.” 

“If you could stop making me cry that would be really great.” you sniffed, wiping your eyes, “I’m dehydrated from all this crying.” 

He grinned, pulling you into his lap and handing you a glass on bubbles. 

“Drink this and stop blubbering, silly Kitten.” he teased. 

You flicked water at him. 

-

You ate room service in fluffy robes at 2 in the morning, before collapsing into the bed, exhausted from the day. 

You snuggled into the warmth of his body, right when you were drifting off Kylo began thinking aloud.

“We need to get you on prenatal vitamins babe, and i’ll find ask the board who the best OBGYN is, we should really get you in there as soon-”

“Baby, i love you, but please shut up and go to sleep.” you mumbled, sleepily.

-----

Tag list: @reyloaddict55​ @candycanes19​ @jediminddicks1000​ @finn-ray-nal-beads​ @maybe-your-left​ @thegreenmatt​ @morby​ @sydneyssmut​ @contesa-lui-alucard​ @millenialcatlady​

[ohdearhiddles]

SUMMARY: Thirteen years post-breakup and Tom still takes your breath away. You were once young and childish, and you had wanted more than he should have given. Years later, just the sight of him causes your heart to flutter, but what about him?

TITLE: To Fall in Love Again

WORD COUNT: 2837

AUTHOR NOTES/WARNINGS: Kinda angsty I guess? I tried to be vague with the ages, but it was kind of hard since the idea of the story was based off of time gap, so my apologies! There will most likely be a second part to this just because I genuinely didn’t think that the next part belonged in the same part as this so yeah :) (AO3 Link)

He was beautiful.

Some people truly aged with grace, and despite Thomas William Hiddleston being 14 years older than when you had met him that fateful afternoon, he had certainly been one of the lucky ones. His curly locks were much longer now and dyed and a gorgeous black, and his smile - oh god, his smile - was still as dazzling and absolutely breathtaking as it had been many years ago.

Of course, though, the Tom standing before you was not the same one you had known.

This Tom had become so very loved by those around him; a true gentleman among men. He was even more humble and lovely as when you had met him from all that you could tell, and for a moment you wondered if he would even recognize you. You were but an average woman among the many beautiful women that graced his presence, and suddenly, you found yourself recalling the day that you had expressed that you felt as though you would hold him back.

Back then, his career and age intimidated you greatly. So much so that you had cut him out of your life like the immature young adult you had been - a regretful mistake that you came to terms with a long while afterward.

Now, you were a dapper, older woman, calm and sophisticated as you were meant to be. The childish side of you had long been hidden away and you when you weren’t reminded of how you once were, you didn’t mind the absence of such childish bliss. You didn’t believe you had aged as well as Tom did; in fact, you were certain that you looked even closer to his age than you had before. You could definitely have passed for a woman in her late thirties.

Fans crowded around the lovely man you had once loved more than life itself, and you felt a sharp throb in your chest. You stood farther back, holding a cup of coffee that had chilled significantly since you had gotten it, but you weren’t about to throw it away just yet. It gave you something to do with your hands at least.

His smile was radiant, and you wondered what on earth he was doing in the grand old city of New York. Women and men alike flocked like birds around the newest shiny object they had found. It was then that you noticed the small booklets in their hands. Playbills. Hurriedly, you looked around the area for signs adorning the exterior of theaters for any indication on why he was there.

Spotting a poster on a nearby wall, your jaw dropped. Broadway.

A small proud, smile played at your lips as you approached the sign. Tom loved acting, you knew that very well, and you had always tried to be as supportive as can be. But back then, you were still a child - an irritable, greedy child who had no business being with such a loving and considerate man that had his eyes set on the stars.

You recalled the day you looked yourself in the mirror, suddenly hating the type of lover you had become in spite of all Tom had given you. When he gave you his time, you had begged for more, and when he gave you his heart, you asked for his soul. Nothing had been good enough for you until the day you decided that enough was enough. Love was not about taking from him, borrowing his time and spending his affections like spare change. It was about acceptance and maintaining what you had.

If only you had known that before everything turned sour.

Your heart fluttered at the reminder of the days in which your relationship was flourishing, growing like the most beautiful flower among weeds. Although you and Tom had only dated for about a year, when it was good, it was good. He had never failed to make you laugh or make you feel loved, and that was exactly the problem. However, even flowers die when the seasons change and the air grows cold. That’s exactly what had happened. Your relationship became a weed, poisoned by all that surrounded it and you had believed it was all your fault.

One crucial moment had destroyed it all. The day you had said that you wanted more, more everything, and Tom had gladly agreed to give it to you. Every second after that moment was still vivid in your mind. The feeling of pure horror that overtook you as you watched a man say that he valued you more than his career, more than anything, was something you would never forget. Who were you to ask him to do that?

Nobody, was what you had decided. You were nobody. You had to accept it.

The relationship spiraled from there. The kisses became chaste and the sex became stale - passion was mistakenly shoved away. Tom’s smiles slowly withered in time, and your soul slowly blackened, becoming a void that sucked the life from him.

It took 46 days for things to end, and it took 598 days for you to pick up all the pieces of your shattered being after it all happened. And if you were honest, no one was ever enough even after him. Even now, you had tried to be exactly what was asked of you, asking for nothing in return because of a lingering fear that you would ask for far too much.

For years, you watched Tom become the actor and man he had always dreamed of becoming. He became a face that so many could recognize, and you were now certain that if you were to approach him, you would look like nothing more than a woman seeking attention that did not belong to you.

You dragged your eyes away from the poster, looking over at the crowd of people. The thought to approach was more than just appealing. But it didn’t feel right to approach him despite it all. You were someone from his distant past; you had no claim on him, no reason to make him reminisce something you had neglected. The again, you were still very much the same as you once had been deep inside, and today you wanted to allow her to take hold.

Hesitantly making your way to the crowd, you didn’t push or shove. You hovered in the background, looking on as a fans asked him signatures and pictures. And then you heard it - the ringing laughter that melted every bit of ice that had formed around your heart. You shut your eyes briefly, cherishing the sound that you didn’t dare to admit you missed. 13 years after the break up, and he still made you feel like a teenager.

When you opened your eyes, he was standing even closer. Actually, it looked as though he was trying to go on his merry way, but with so many people, you supposed that it was probably much more difficult to leave than it seemed. Especially for him if he was any bitt as apologetic and kind as he was before.

The crowd began to disperse slowly but surely, but you lingered You stayed towards the back, keeping a distance between yourself and the man that still made your heart race. You were hoping to remain as inconspicuous as possible, but it was becoming increasingly worrisome as he slowly got closer.

People began to gather around you, indicating his approach, but you stayed where you were. It would seem terribly awkward to walk away now, so you planted your feet in the ground and took root. Tom stood approximately ten feet away, and you began to feel sick. This was a bad idea, you thought to yourself.

An unforgiving shove distracted you from your unease as your lukewarm coffee fell to the ground, splashing against the pavement. A few people turned their heads, questioning you on if you were alright, but you couldn’t find a way to respond. A familiar face stood before you, a worried look in his eyes and you stared back at him, not knowing how to make any coherent sentences.

“Are you alright?” He inquired, and you froze. You were sure he didn’t recognize you, and a feeling of relief washed over you, but it was quickly replaced with the familiar sting in your chest. His voice was like velvet, or perhaps it resembled a melodic tune that you wanted to sing constantly. You weighed your options on how to respond, but nothing came to mind.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, ignoring the stares of those around you.

Oh, were you sorry. It wasn’t coffee that you were apologizing for, or the tiniest of splashes that made it’s way onto Tom’s pants. At that second, you were 13 years younger standing in front of a younger version of Tom, apologizing like you should have instead of running away. You were apologizing for the incessant rambling, the late phone calls that kept him up far longer than it should have, the greed you had held for his time, and the manipulation of his love.

Those two words held more meaning than anything you had ever said before, and you so desperately wanted to explain it all. You wanted to tell him that now, standing before him, you could feel yourself falling in love all over again. You wanted to tell him that you watched every movie, series, play, and poetry reading he had done. The only one you seemed to have not been aware of was his current escapade. You wanted to tell him that if you could do it all again, you would have been better. You should have been better.

Tom’s face was blank as he stared at you. You looked around you, a blush rising to your cheeks as everyone seemed to wait for your interaction to end. So, you took the first step. You lifted your hand, holding it out for him to shake. He reciprocated the action, eyes still trained intently on your face and the tears welling up in your eyes, but you hoped that it would be mistaken as tears of joy. A shaky laugh escaped your lips as you shook hands.

“It was nice meeting you,” you said, smiling up at the beautiful man as your heart plummeted to the ground. Everything was starting to feel hazy, and maybe that’s why it felt as though his grip had tightened and his touch had lingered significantly longer than it should have. Perhaps that’s why, as you turned to leave, you could have sworn that your name had slipped past his lips like a silent promise.

You weaved your way through the crowd, eyes trained on the ground as you began to regret the interaction. Your pulse was erratic as you walked away, hoping that the rest of the day would drown out this unforeseen meeting that you had voluntarily made worse for yourself. As you exited the crowd, the voices of everyone around you seemed to hush. All except one.

Tom’s voice bounced off of invisible barriers, an echo that made its way to you. It stopped you in your tracks as he called your name over and over again until a hand was grasped around your wrist. Turning quickly, you see the crowd had not followed him. They all stood in their spot, stares all directed at you.

He repeated your name once more, and you blinked in disbelief.

“Yes?” You all but squeaked. It must have been a funny sight - a woman of your age squeaking a reply like a child.

“It is you, isn’t it?” He repeated.

“It’s me,” you spoke, eyes wandering to where his fingers touched your arm.

His eyebrows furrowed as he scanned you up and down. It wasn’t an intrusive look, but it still made you uncomfortable after all these years of thinking you would never see him again. Then, out of nowhere, a wonderful thing happened. Tom pulled your arm, wrapping his own around your waist as if you had never done him wrong. He inhaled deeply before withdrawing from the embrace, a smile that you had dreamed about far too many times gracing his features.

“I didn’t recognize you at first, I apologize,” he breathed, hands still on your shoulders. “I wasn’t,” he paused. “I wasn’t expecting to run into you.”

“That makes two of us,” you mumbled under your breath, and a hearty laugh resonated within him.

“How are you?” He asked, voice filled with sincerity.

For once, you didn’t know what to say to that. How were you? You didn’t think about it all too much, and when you did, you chose not to dwell on it as much as you probably should have. The last thing on your mind was to worry about your own sanity and wellbeing.

“I’m doing good,” you said, knowing that the answer was bland and as generic as possible.

Tom seemed to not truly believe the statement, and you figured that you wouldn’t believe it either if your crazy ex started crying and pretended not to know you after over a decade of seeing one another. “How about you?”

“I’m doing well,” he replied, his smile faltering before he sighed. Liar. “Actually, if I’m being honest with you, I’m quite tired lately.”

You nodded, not knowing what to say in response as Tom’s hands dropped to his sides. The silence dragged out and you found yourself beginning to turn to leave.

“Well, it was nice seeing you,” you mumbled.

“Wait,” Tom spoke, reaching out again before pulling his hand back. “Wait.”

The next few seconds were a blur as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, typing away before holding it out for you to take. You eyed it suspiciously before taking it from his hands. “I heard you got a new number back then, but if you don’t mind,” you suppressed a gasp as you watched a small rosy tint appear on his cheeks. “I’d like to catch up sometime soon.”

It was then that you smiled, a true genuine smile, “I’d really like that.” So, you looked at the screen to type away. What you saw, though, was not what you had expected. An old picture from back when the two of you were together sat in the contact photo, and your name and old number were still typed out in their designated spots.

When you handed the phone back to the gentleman, you pulled your own phone out of your pocket and held it out for him to take. “Yours too.”

You watched in admiration as his long, nimble fingers tapped against the screen, typing his information into your contacts. After handing it back, he smiled, holding his arms out again as if he were asking for another hug. Not seeing the harm, you allowed yourself to be engulfed by his body, and right before you pulled away, Tom whispered: “I’ve missed you more than you know.”

So, when the two of you went your separate ways, you couldn’t help the heat that had risen to your face. You truly felt a decade younger as you walked away, not sure how to take that sentence. What had he missed? Did he miss you the way you missed him?

“I missed you, too,” you whispered to no one in particular, glancing back to see Tom’s eyes on your retreating form. And in that moment you wondered if it would be possible to fall in love again, and for him to fall in love with you.

After closing the door to your home, you felt a soft vibration in your pocket, and you felt as though a small sliver of hope had shone through the endless night you had grown accustomed to as you read it. It was a text that reminded you that, at one point, Tom had understood you better than you understood yourself. Even now, he still somehow understood you as if he could read your mind.

I forgot to tell you, but don’t apologize. I would do it all again in a heartbeat.

What? You typed up the response before hitting send. Within seconds, the three dots in a bubble appeared on the screen, showing that he was already typing his answer.

You said sorry when you saw me. Am I wrong?

I did.

Don’t apologize. 

A second text chimed in less than a second later.

Unless you would like to make it up to me. 

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion as you read the text.

How so? You asked, nothing in particular crossing your mind when you thought about it.

Go to dinner with me tomorrow. Let’s make up for some lost time.

That was probably the last thing you had ever expected. These types of things were reserved for movies and books that you would never be a part of. But despite the thought that you were getting played, you did not have the heart to turn him down. Who were you to tell him no?

Okay.

[lihikainanea]

it's raunchy hours here in the twilight zone so allow me to indulge you with a thought— bill practicing a sex scene for one of his upcoming roles on tiger. him in full character, would tiger get excited if for example bill was practicing a sex scene as roman / henry / etc?

or as THE BRAND NeW SWEDISH GANGSTER? Babe you sent this to me ages ago, and I didn’t get to it. And now I know why.

God I’ll bet he sets the scene, doesn’t he? Of course he does. I don’t know much about Clark Olofsson and I’m pretty sure this is wildly inaccurate but like...John Joseph Gotti, right? One of them gentlemen gangsters. Feared, cruel, even son of a bitch--but one that dressed real well and knew how to treat a lady.

And he’s seen the way tiger is eyeing him on set, eating him up in his costume and his accent and the whole bit. Let’s not forget--tiger loves it when Bill gets a little mean. So when he’s a dapper gentlemen in a scene and then gets all ruthless and mad as hell, tiger is just d y i n g. And Bill knows. He remembers her little Merkel kink that he indulged for her some time ago.

So listen, Bill has a real early call time one morning. He kisses her in her sleep, squeezes her a little tighter, and then he leaves--but he leaves a nice dress, a real nice dress, in a dry cleaning bag strewn neatly across the chair. A pair of high heels--very high heels, higher than she’d ever wear--on the floor in front of it. A note saying that she better be looking real good for dinner with his clients tonight. A hairdresser will come by the room at 4, the make up artist at 5. He leaves the tube of her dark, crimson lipstick--the one he loves on her--beside the note, and the unwritten message is clear. Wear it.

Tiger wakes up and stretches, makes her way to the coffee machine, and she sees the whole kit. She snickers a little, but then she reads the note and...oh. Oh my. A little thrill runs through her, and she texts her big dude. Asks him what the hell the deal is.

She gets a text back in return.

Mr. Olofsson is currently unavailable. He’s tending to business matters.

Oh. 

And a second one a minute later:

But he implores you to mind your language when addressing him, Mrs. Olofsson.

Oh, my.

She texts him sporadically out the day, but is always met with some variation of it--his messages sometimes a tad annoyed, a tad warning, a tad mean the more she picks at him--until his assistant texts her, and tiger can read the confusion in the message.

He said...pineapple applies? Does that mean anything to you?

Tiger smiles.

And sure enough, at 4 o’clock the hairdresser knocks on the door. Tiger lets her in, but as she goes to close it, the girl stops her.

“My assistant is coming, ma’am. She just needs to get her kit from the car.”

“Her...kit?”

“For your nails, ma’am.”

“Right,” tiger eyes her, “Okay then.”

So they set tiger up, push her into a comfy chair, and the manicurist gets to work on her hands. Tiger leans over, tries to peek into her bag.

“Can I see some of your colours?” she asks. The girl bites her lip.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” she says, “But Mr. Olofsson already chose the colour. I only brought that one.”

“Of course he did,” tiger smirked, and then gestured to her hair, “I suppose he also told you what he wanted, here?”

“He did, Mrs. Olofsson.”

“Right then.”

And they doll her up to the nines. To the nines. Her hair is soft and shiny, big waves and loose curls just how he likes. Her nails are polished in crimson--identical to the lipstick that the make up artist swiped on her. Her make up is dramatic, deep feline-flicked eyeliner and everything is sultry and mysterious and...dangerous. They help her get dressed, do up all the straps on her dress and help her teeter on her heels and then the doorbell rings again--and this time, it’s a chauffeur in a crisply pressed tuxedo. Tiger squeaks a little, has to stop herself from running to the gigantic blacked-out, shiny SUV. And that’s when she sees it--Bill. Only it’s not Bill. This dude is tall and handsome but he’s dangerous, his hair curling loosely on his forehead, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips, black striped slacks and a button up shirt rolled to his elbows and--oh god--suspenders. A bow tie hung undone around his neck.

Tiger walks to him--allbeit a little slowly--in her heels.

“You are out of your goddamn mind, you know that?” she mutters incredulously to him. But the grin is wiped off her face when his goes stern, and she sees his jaw clench. Oh my. This is definitely not her Bill.

“You are going to watch your goddamn mouth with me, Mrs. Olofsson” he snaps, “No lady of mine will be caught dead swearing. ‘Specially not at me.”

Tiger squeaks a little, her eyes widening.

“Now apologize, get in the car, and mind your fucking manners tonight.”

She mumbles out an apology and he throws his cigarette to the ground, blowing the smoke out to the side before climbing in the car with her.

And listen, Bill doesn’t let up the entire night. Not for a second. he’s so dapper, so gentlemanly, so mannered. Tiger is wetter than a fire hose, fidgeting in her seat, but it’s clear the night is only over when Bill--er, Mr. Olofsson determines it is. And just uunnnf the sex would be so hot because Clark is a ladies man in that real bad boy way that I hate myself for finding so irresistible? He’s fucking filthy. It’s so dirty, the shit he’s muttering in her ear. He’s got her all tied up and trussed up and gasping for him, and he’s all dominating and taunting and god, tiger is in absolute pieces by the end of it. He probably disappears after too--because you know bad boys don’t stick around. They don’t spend the night, they don’t cuddle--he has clients to get to, associates to exact revenge on, an empire to steal. So instead he swats her ass, leaves her all tied up, tells her she can probably find her way out of it--and then he disappears.

And he probably disappears for a good 20 minutes. Tiger’s pretty sure she blacked out during that time. But when he comes back, he’s...he’s Bill again. Her Bill. His hair is wet from a shower, in a t-shirt and lounge pants, and he has a dopey, soft smile on his face. He smells like soap, like clean and comfort, and he leans over to brush a gentle finger down her cheek.

“Looks like you got yourself into some trouble tonight,” he smiles softly at her. 

Tiger still can’t breathe.

[mostweakhamlets]

Cake Heals All Wounds

This fic was published on patreon on August 14th as part of the four exclusive stories that you can read for $2 a month! This one is sort of a Great British Bake Off AU

--

Aziraphale sighed in relief as soon as he was out of the tent and in the open, grassy field. While the sun was hot and beamed down directly on his head, it was better than the suffocating heat that had been trapped inside with the contestants and crew and the two of them.

“Fuck the producers for scheduling the longest bakes in the middle of a heatwave.”

Crowley lifted his hair off the back of his neck. His cheeks were splotched with red and sweat soaked his hairline. The poor thing looked miserable in his all-black outfit that had become his signature style.

Aziraphale tutted. “You can’t expect them to predict the weather when they schedule the series months ahead of time.”

They had managed to escape before makeup cornered them to dab up their perspiration and re-apply powders and concealers. Aziraphale was tired of having tissues shoved into his collar and towels pressed to his forehead. He just wanted a moment of peace without a camera on him.

“It happens every year,” Crowley said. “I think they’re doing it on purpose. It’s either their longest bakes or something with chocolate. It’s psychological torture at this point.”

Aziraphale did feel terrible for the bakers who were on the verge of breakdowns induced by both stress and the heat. Crowley was right, though. It wasn’t anything new. Filming was coming to an end, and the tension was increasing every minute along with the temperature.

Crowley had his conspiracy theories that the producers intentionally made every other episode miserable for the bakers for entertainment. Aziraphale doubted that they were that evil. But he knew what ratings looked like, and he knew how people took to social media when dramatic episodes aired. It was good for the producers, but it couldn’t have been intentional. At least not totally. Not every time.

“Oh God, they found us,” Crowley mumbled.

Two women, who were always well-meaning, approached them. The dabbing of tissues and the assaulting with brushes began.

Aziraphale was ready to be in the studio for voiceovers. He didn’t have to be in the heat with every scent of bread and cake clinging onto him by the end of the day (which he didn’t necessarily hate, but it did grow old). He could be in his own comfortable clothing rather than the dapper get-up that the audience expected to see him in, and he wouldn’t need layers of powder on his face for him to scrape off later.

“They’re getting ready to decide who’s going home, we think,” one of the women said, removing tissues from his collar.

Crowley chugged the water bottle he was handed as his makeup artist tried dabbing a powder puff into his cheeks. “I hate that part.”

“Well, I have to say it this week,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley smiled at him. “Yeah. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You could try taking your turn.”

“But they love it when it’s you.” ‘They’ was the audience. “You get all choked-up.”

“Just take your turn next week, and we’ll call it even.”

“Next week is the semi-finals.”

It was the last time someone would be sent home and the most emotional week of the series. Whoever didn’t make it would be devastated after making it so far and getting nothing. And Aziraphale and Crowley would be heartbroken having to be the bearer of bad news and see a familiar face leave. It was their annual tradition to go out after filming and buy a couple of bottles of wine and whiskey and sit up all night while binging on their alcohol and take out.

“I’m aware.”

Crowley scoffed. “I was thinking something along the lines of dinner.”

“You can take me to dinner, too.”

“Unbelievable.”

Crowley slid his sunglasses off to allow his eyes and nose to be touched up. Aziraphale watched as the off-hazel, nearly-yellow looked off in the distance. His eyes gained him a bit of celebrity. They were a “distinct feature” as talent agencies and IMDb declared. Crowley had grown sick of them and never saw anything quite special about them in the first place.

Aziraphale was obsessed with them.

“Alright, let’s get back inside before we get yelled at.”

Crowley walked back into the tent. Aziraphale followed.

—

“What do you mean you have another gig?”

“I mean that I have another gig, angel.”

Aziraphale wished the conversation was happening in public. That way, Crowley could see how huffy he looked. He could furrow his brow and purse his lips. But as it was, he could only try to convey his near-tantrum over the phone.

“What is it?”

“I can’t really say yet. All I can tell you is that I’m not going to be at the studio at the same time as you. Is it really that big of a deal?”

“Yes! We’re always there together.”

“It’ll just have to be different this time. Listen, angel, I have to go. I have a rehearsal soon.”

“Rehearsal for your new gig?”

“Yes. I’ll talk to you later. Are we still on for lunch Friday?”

Aziraphale thought about canceling the plans just to be a bastard. “Of course.”

—

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake. Dyed black with squid ink, the cake will be layered with homemade strawberry jam. It’ll be shaped as a demon-summoning circle with powder sugar symbols and fondant candles.”

Aziraphale wished he could record the lines before knowing the results. Anathema would have been the winner that week if that cake had turned out as she had envisioned it. The jam, which she had attempted to make in the tent, had been far too runny and seeped into the cake. Aziraphale had stood by as the hosts cut into it and revealed the soggy mess.

It was the first time Anathema had cried on camera, and it was all Aziraphale could think about.

“Can we try that again, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale nodded. If Crowley were there, nothing would feel amiss and Aziraphale wouldn’t be flubbing his lines.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

He wouldn’t be thinking about Anathema’s face crumpled as soon as the hosts looked up at her with disappointed raised eyebrows and comments about how “Really, we expected better from you.” It was the worst Anathema could be confronted with—disappointment. Aziraphale had picked up on that by helping her plate biscuits and giving her mid-bake pep talks. She didn’t care if her presentation went wrong or if flavors didn’t work well. She only cared if she had expectations set on her, and as it looked as she was going to win the entire series (and as nearly the entire country hopes for it), she felt the pressure.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

If Crowley were there, he could point out how Anathema had quickly dried her tears and how Newt had run over to hug her as soon the cameras cut. He could take Aziraphale’s mind off the ordeals they had to go through.

“Anathema’s ‘Occult Occake’ is an aesthetical twist on the traditional jam cake…”

—

“Try this one.”

Aziraphale turned around and a bite of cake was being shoved in his face. He took Crowley’s hand and held it away so he could have a little dignity while taking it in his mouth. Once he realized how their fingers were touching and for so long, though, he pulled away with burning cheeks. It was obscene.

When the cameras finally went off for the last time that year, Aziraphale and Crowley were free to finally eat the cake they had watched being made for hours. And they were always determined to eat their fill of each of the three cakes presented before they were divvied up among the crowd of past-contestants and family.

Aziraphale hummed. It was rich and sweet and moist and satisfied his growling stomach. “Is that Newton’s?”

Crowley nodded and stabbed at the mangled piece on his plate. The cakes were supposed to remain pretty after being cut into, but Crowley somehow had the ability to make a mess out of anything he ate.

It was endearing if a bit annoying when Aziraphale wanted to take his time savoring every bite. Aziraphale could never be too annoyed with anything Crowley ever did. At the end of every day, he thought of Crowley and smiled.

His chest was tight, and his mouth was dry. He regretted not grabbing a glass of champagne.

“I was thinking,” Aziraphale said, “of taking a holiday in a few weeks.”

Crowley shoved more cake into his mouth. The dear would end up sick if he didn’t pace himself. Again, it was endearing yet annoying.

“Where’you goin’?” Crowley asked around the cake.

“That’s the thing.” Aziraphale rubbed his hands together and smiled. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears. “I was wondering if you’d like to join me, and if you would, I’d like you to have some say.”

Crowley froze. He swallowed his cake. He looked away.

“Uh… sure. I don’t have much on. Just a little filming over the next month.”

“Oh, of course. Your new gig.”

Aziraphale’s heart sank, though he wasn’t sure why. He wasn’t disappointed. He got what he wanted. A holiday with his friend whom he fancied that could potentially lead to more. But he wasn’t happy, either.

“Yeah.”

Crowley was becoming more popular, Aziraphale had to admit. While Aziraphale had made his fair share of guest appearances since the show gained its devoted, international following, Crowley was becoming an actual celebrity—noticed in shops, gaining masses of new followers on social media, earning nominations for bougie awards. Aziraphale was happy for him. But he also knew that with the newfound popularity, there was less time to spend together.

There would always be new gigs and interviews and publicity. There would be business dinners and coffees and contract meetings. There would be conflicting schedules and canceled lunches and postponed traditions.

“I’ll check my schedule, and we can plan something around it.”

“Around your new schedule. Right.”

And there was always the fear of Crowley leaving the show for good. What would Azirpahale do then? They were a duo at this point. Would Aziraphale be asked to leave the show? Would he leave on his own accord if his partner—filming partner, totally professional—wasn’t around anymore?

And if they weren’t filming together anymore, then would they grow apart?

“We can figure it out,” Crowley said. “And then we can decide where we’re going.”

“Alright.”

Crowley smiled. “Why do you look sad?”

“I don’t! I’m quite happy. There’s no reason to be sad.”

Crowley clearly didn’t believe him. He cut into Anathema’s winning cake and handed a somewhat sloppy piece to Aziraphale.

Cake healed all wounds.