#can’t we just stick with good old Jack and Jackie

[kenziek1w1]

I hate to disappoint guys, but the bobbyjackie tag scares me 💔

[crystalninjaphoenix]

MerMay 2024 Day Thirty-One The Future

The old pier was, by now, completely unsafe to walk on, so the humans set up a little picnic on the pebbly beach. “So... this is where you met Chase for the first time?” Ollie asked, looking around. “It, uh... it’s... nice.”

Stacy laughed. “You don’t have to be nice, I know what you mean. It was better fourteen years ago.”

In the water nearby, the merms swam around. Jackie was pacing in circles, seeing how fast he could go. Marvin and Jameson were talking about magic stuff together, with Marvin being very impressed that Jameson managed to make even a bad power stone while stuck in the tank. Schneep was sticking by the old wooden pier, tentacles wrapped around one of the poles so he didn’t have to tread water. Jack and Chase were half-on the beach, hanging out.

And Anti was here too.

He was floating on the edge of all of them, with only his head sticking out of the water. He squinted up at the evening sun; apparently even that was too bright for his sensitive eyes. The others had been surprised when Chase asked if he could come, too. But no one had protested. If Chase was alright with Anti, then everyone was.

Speaking of Chase: “You two didn’t have to do that!” he was saying, looking at Sereia and Muirin. “We still don’t know much about the wish talismans! What if it took a lot of your energy to grant something like that?”

“To be fair, Dad, we did fall asleep for like... the rest of the day,” Muirin said.

“Yeah!” Sereia nodded in agreement with her brother. “And it worked out, didn’t it?”

Chase frowned. “Still... don’t do that again.” He glanced back at Marvin and Jameson. “Right, you two?! They shouldn’t do something like that again?!”

“I think it was pretty cool,” Marvin said.

Jameson nudged him. But they should be more careful, yes.

“C’moooon, give them some slack!” Jackie shouted. “I think their wish was the whole reason the humans didn’t go all crazy when they found out merms are real!”

“Well, some of them will still probably, ah, ‘go crazy’,” Schneep pointed out. “There is no way that two wishes made by children could affect everyone in the world.”

“Hey Chase, can you ask Lise something in human for me?” Jack asked. “I want to know what they’re going to do with the big building with all the tanks.”

“Oh! Good question.” Chase looked over at Lise, who was sitting awkwardly in the middle of the picnic blanket. “Lise, Jack wants to know what TridentCorp is going to do with the... C-SAHL? Is that what you called it?”

Lise nodded. “Yes, that is its name. And we are not going to abandon it. It cost so much to build, after all. We are partnering with several of the organizations, including the local Institute of Marine Biology.” She nodded at Roxy, who was trying to set up the screen. “We will use it to observe rare marine life.”

“Merms, too?” Anti asked quietly.

Lise jumped slightly. “Ah, I forgot you were here.” She paused. “If there are merms who are... willing to come spend some time in the C-SAHL, we would not stop them. Or force them to stay. But I do think it would be quite helpful to have some there. We could try to teach them to read languages, so that they can tell us about your society in turn.”

“Good idea,” Chase said. “I mean... all of us here are a tiny, tiny fraction of how many merms there are. You can’t rely on us for everything.”

“Hey Schneep!” Jack said. “D’you think your girlfriend would want to talk to the humans?”

“V-Vea is not my—we are not partners!” Schneep stammered. “We are just... getting to know each other better.”

“How well are you getting to know each other?” Jackie asked, grinning. Marvin immediately splashed him, getting water in his eyes and mouth. Jackie spluttered and tried to splash him back, but Jameson held up an arm, protecting Marvin with the attached wing.

“Aunt Roxy, d’you need any help with the speakers and stuff?” Muirin asked.

“I got it!” Roxy said, clearly struggling with the wires and stuff.

Anti inched closer to the beach. “Um... shouldn’t the... end with three metal bits go with the red circle?”

“Huh?” Roxy looked down at the wires, then glanced to the side. “I didn’t even notice that.” She picked up the cord and plugged it into the right place. “Nice job, uh... Anti, was it? Thanks.”

Ollie blinked. “I didn’t know you guys knew anything about technology.”

Lise nodded, looking fascinated. “And you speak English, too. How did you learn all this?”

“I learned human when I transformed,” Anti said. “And uh... I-I just figured out... the wire stuff. I like finding things like that that humans have dropped in the ocean. So I... look at it and figure it out a lot.”

Schneep tilted his head. “Impressive! That is sort of what I do with human medicine supplies. But their metal and rubber is too complicated for me.”

“H-ha... thank you.” Anti smiled a bit awkwardly.

Lise blinked. “You... transformed?”

“Yeah. You were there.”

“I was huh?!”

Ollie laughed. “Y’know, doc, I think these guys have a lot of secrets that they haven’t told us, yet.”

Stacy looked at Chase. “Is that true? You shouldn’t keep secrets from your girlfriend, you know.”

Chase grinned back at her. “Hey, I’ve told you everything!”

“...girlfriend?” Lise repeated in a weak voice. “Is that... the children called you ‘dad’...”

She’s going to lose her mind when she finds out they’re related by blood, not just because Chase is dating Stacy, Jameson said.

“Oh, for sure,” Marvin agreed, grinning—and then spluttering as Jackie took the opportunity to splash him.

“Got it!” Roxy shouted. The projector whirled to life, a cone of light shining on the screen. “We better hope that there’s no strong wind to knock down the screen. That’d be inconvenient.”

“We’re right by the ocean,” Chase said. “There’s always wind.”

“What movies did you choose, Mom?” Sereia asked Stacy.

“Well, turns out there aren’t many movies about mermaids out there,” Stacy said. “Or at least, there aren’t that many that are good for children and merms who probably don’t want to be offended by bad portrayals. We have The Little Mermaid, of course, and then I threw in Splash and Aquamarine, but since those are aimed at grownups I also found this Disney movie for you guys that seems more your style, we can put it in between them.”

“I wonder if humans will make more merm movies now that they know,” Jack said.

“Not all of them know,” Chase corrected. “Only the ones who are part of organizations to help sea life. But, uh... it’s really easy for news to get out, so... I guess they’ll know soon.”

Jackie groaned. “Guess I’ll have to tell other guardians about that again.”

“And we should probably let the freshwater merms know right away,” Marvin added.

Do you think you could ask for help with that from Aribelle and her partners? Jameson asked.

“I was just thinking about that!” Marvin grinned. “You know me so well.”

I do, but I think that’s just common sense, honestly.

“A lot is going to change,” Schneep mused. “There will be humans out there who want to do what TridentCorp did. I’m sure that this ‘Visser’ fellow is going to do things, even though he got pushed out of TridentCorp.”

“But... there will be ones who help, too, right?” Anti asked quietly.

Jack blinked, and looked over at him. He smiled, and nodded. “Yeah. There will be ones who help.”

“Come on, guys, we need to start soon!” Sereia said. “Or we’ll be here all night!”

“Yeah!” Muirin grinned. “I call controlling the remote!”

Everyone laughed good-naturedly. The merms all came up close to the beach, and the humans turned around so they could all face the screen.

Tomorrow, and for many days after, they would think more about how the world had changed. They would wonder about the struggles to come. But for now, the evening sun was warm, and the water was cool, and they could watch movies together on the beach.

[thygoddessouijathicc]

Legacy Gets Anxiety Meds, Becomes Normal, And Turns The Flipside Into A Dating Sim

(Disclaimer: Another Ouija joke fic as it has been proven this is the only thing I can do consistently and I have way too many ideas for it. I will get back to my standard long serious fics but not yet.

So basically as you may or may not know, I’m pals with Iral the Great, we were joking in a GC about the Legacy face as well as an old rational I made that stated the eye dilation is because of adrenaline and Legacy must have chronic stress. And then I decided to make this fic.

Also the Flipside becomes a dating sim. I just thought that’d be funny.

Gets kinda weird.)

Legacy walked down the road, blasting people as he went with his sawed off shotgun. He had recently been to therapy… it didn’t help much, he’s pretty sure the therapist quit the profession. Rude.

Well anyway, one good thing came of his therapy.

He’d been prescribed “anxiety” meds!

He couldn’t wait to get high on those.

And no there’s absolutely no way those are regular anxiety meds, psh, how stupid would that be. The therapist has got to know he’d kill them for that!

Legacy arrived at the pharmacy and shot everyone ahead of him in line like the normal, normal man he is.

The clerk trembled as he handed Jacky-Boi his anxiety meds. Legacy shot him in the fucking face. No witnesses.

Legacy took one of the pills… he vibrated, had a seizure, and glowed…

Then his face suddenly turned back to normal.

“What the shit?” Jack asks, as he sits up after his fit.

Jack then remembers everything he did as Legacy and screams in frustration. “HOW THE FUCK DID I EVEN *GET* HOT SAUCE IN MY DICK!?!?!” He yells.

Jack stands up. “Well, Furry Dave is dead, I guess I still got Cabinet Man Dave.” Jack sighs. “He’s pissed at me, since I broke my promise and then blew up my sister’s soul.” He starts walking home to go try to get back with his ex who lives in an arcade machine.

.

.

.

Jack arrives at his arcade machine, after showering to wash off the gallons of blood that was covering his body of the last 3 months.

He knows he probably can’t go in the game because… well Dave is pretty pissed and might try to kill him.

So Jack just messes around with the machine for awhile using a tutorial he found on YouTube.

Once he finishes he starts to walk around the Flipside using his new anime boy avatar!

It takes 3 hours to find Flipside Dave, and as soon as he does the encounter starts.

“Well well well, look who’s back. I guess killing your sister and later ME wasn’t enough for you you just HAVE to come back and finish the jo- Wait why do you look like that? Why do you have hair? Why do *I* have hair!? WHAT DID YOU DO OLD FUCK?!” Dave yells through the machine.

Jack uses the joystick and the buttons to slowly type, fuck he should have attached a microphone or speaker or some shit.

“I took my anxiety meds and then turned the flipside into a dating sim.” He types.

“…What?”

“I killed Davetrap and you were the next best thing.” Jack types.

“Wow. Great to know I was you second choice after my rotting corpse in a fursuit.” Dave says.

Jack notices the relationship bar in the corner, already at -345, go down to -420. Nice. Wait no not nice. Jack presses the undo button, erasing Dave’s memory of what he said last.

Dave screams. “HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO TO ME! I FEEL LIKE I JUST DIED AGAIN! Wait… you turned this into a fucked up dating sim!? Why the fuck did you even do that?!?”

“When I regained my sanity because of my anxiety meds I knew I fucked up. I knew this was the only way we could talk without you killing me.” Jack wasn’t ENTIRELY lying. He had more motives than that for a DATING sim, but it was mostly true.

“So the first thing you do is stick me in a dating sim against my will, and not try to somehow bring back your sister’s soul you OBLITERATED.” Oh shit when did Dave get SMART.

“I don’t know how to do that. And I knew I’d probably have to reconcile with you first. Maybe you could help me.” Jack types. Holy shit the relationship bar went UP. By 3 points but still.

“But wait… why do I have a… relationship bar??? Yeah I can see that by the way. I can see you too. Why did you choose a dating sim of all things to put me in?”

“I don’t know. It was the shortest tutorial?” Jack smiles awkwardly.

“So rather than putting me in any other kind of game, which you apparently could do, you stick me in a girly anime dating sim with a relationship bar, a mood metre and fucking cherry blossoms falling from the sky constantly?! Wait YOU BASTARD! YOU DON’T CARE AT ALL ABOUT WHAT YOU DID YOU JUST WANT TO-“ Jack resets.

“Ugh… that feeling again… the fuck is that.”

“Its the only type of game that didn’t have a battle menu.” Jack types.

“Well I guess that makes sense… my head hurts… You’re… doing that face again…” Jack freezes, and runs out of the room. “Hey where the fuck are you going!?” He looks in the mirror to see Dave is right, he is doing his Legacy face again…

Shit. He WAS enjoying having Dave at his mercy like that way too much. Ok, no more lying, and no more pressing reset. Jack takes another pill, and another for good measure, before re-entertaining the room.

“I’ve been lying to you. I stuck you in a dating sim because I was being selfish and wanted you back as quickly and easily as possible. I’ve been treating you like a regular game and that’s not fair to you.” He admits.

“No, it’s really not.” Ok shit, yeah, Dave is very mad at him. Relationship dropped sharply. He deserved that.

“I’m sorry Dave.”

“Not gonna cut it, Old Fuck.”

“Then what will?”

“I dunno, maybe STOPPING HIDING BEHIND YOUR ANIME BOY AVATAR AND HAVING AN ACTUAL CONVERSATION WITH ME!?”

Ok yeah, that makes sense. “You promise you won’t punch me?”

“I promise.” Dave says. Jack finally enters the machine, taking over his avatar’s body. He can still see all the dating sim stuff, but Dave is now back to his normal self, rather than the weird anime boy sprite.

“Ok, I’m here D-“ Dave immediately kicks Jack in the balls. “OW WHAT THE FUCK DAVE!?!?!?!”

“I didn’t punch you.” Dave says smugly.

“F-fine… I guess I deserved that.”

“You did. If this stupid dating sim allowed for any more than that I’d stab you.”

“…And I’d deserve that too.”

“Why’d you do it, Sport?”

“Do what?”

“All the kiddin killing, the lying, Dee-“

“Henry. He got in my head. I don’t know how. He convinced me I had to continue his legacy, and that killing your souls would set you free. It’s part of why I took out Davetrap too.”

“Look… Jack… I… I might be able to forgive you. But not yet. Just… give me time ok? And take me out of this fucking dating sim I keep choking on cherry blossoms. And I know I can’t die, but it still fucking hurts.”

“I know… I’m sorry I did this to you. The whole Dating Sim thing, treating you like a shitty video game, lying to you. I’ll take you out. You deserve better than this.”

“It’s a start.”

(Note: Ok I’m sorry this is so stupid. It ended up getting weirdly emotional and cringy. But whatever I’ll just write more meme fics to make up for my sins.)

[emwritesfootball]

Her Majesty's Men 2 | Mason Mount

Word Count: 1,512

Warnings: mentions of drugs, but that's about it. An intro to the Men

- - -

Notting Hill, London, England

Declan double- and triple-checks the address that Mason sent him as he walks the streets of Notting Hill. It’s for a pub he’s never been to before, but he’s heard rumours about a secret underground club modeled after the American Prohibition Era that has exotic dancers.

“Dec! Hey!” Mason greets Declan the moment he walks into the pub. “How have you been?”

Declan shrugs, hating that he has to break the news to Mason like this. The two of them grew up at Chelsea’s Academy together, remaining friends even when Dec got let go. A few years later, Mason was let go, too, and the boy in front of him seems to be doing fairly well. “West Ham let me go last week.”

Mason curses, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry, mate. Can’t believe they can just let us go like we’re expendable.”

“Yeah.” Declan smiles ruefully, sighing. “I’m staying with my sister but I know she wants me to get a job - I want to get a job - but I don’t know where to start. I remember at that party last year with the rest of the Chelsea Dropouts where you mentioned something about working for the Queen and-” Declan pauses, confused as to why Mason is howling with laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“You think- ahaha - you think I work for the Queen?! Oh, my god!” Mason wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “I guess you could say I work for Liz, but not in the way you think that I do…”

“Liz? You call the Queen by a nickname?!”

Mason snorts, the laughter threatening to return again. “How about I show you instead?” He looks at his watch, draining his beer, and Declan finds himself doing the same thing. “Follow me, Deccers.”

Declan follows, his mind slightly occupied with the fact that he saw Mason drop two £20 bills on two pints at the bar before walking away.

The rumours were true. Declan can’t figure out how he couldn’t hear the raucous laughter and thumping bass from the DJ in the booth. He’s pretty sure he recognizes the DJ, but he’s impossible to place from so far away. Instead, Declan focuses on Mason, watching as his ex-teammate weaves through the crowd. It’s all women, he realizes, but then someone slaps his ass as he walks past and he turns to find an older woman looking at him appreciatively.

“Are you one of them?” She asks, shouting over the music.

“Who?” Declan responds, confused.

Before she can reply, Declan feels Mason’s hand wrap around his wrist and pull him through a door. The music dampens, seeping through the door, but only to provide a backdrop. “Don’t stop for the vultures, mate. Although, I think that one’s more of a cougar than anything.” He laughs at his own joke, shaking his head.

“Hush! Like you haven’t thrown yourself to the cougars more times than any of us!” Jack Grealish’s Brummie accent gets Declan’s attention.

“Sod off!” Mason rolls his eyes, turning to Declan. “Don’t pay Jacky Boy any mind - he’s just here for the brainless hen party pussy. You might remember him from a couple friendlies between our academy teams, but I guarantee you that Jacky here probably doesn’t remember you; poor boy doesn’t even remember his own name half the time.”

Jack flips off Mason, but he keeps talking. “These are the lads that make up Her Majesty’s Men. We’re all football-academy rejects, so it’s like a family since we all know what the other’s been through. Stonesy - you’ll meet him in a bit - kinda brought us all together. It was pretty much his idea.”

Declan looks around the room, realizing where he is. The room looks like a changing room except instead of kits and boots and training gear, there’s costumes everywhere. A ratty futon that’s seen better days is against one of the walls; Jack ‘Jacky Boy’ Grealish sits on it, and something about the way he’s sitting on it tells Declan that the futon isn’t for anyone but the ex-Villa Academy player.

“Right. Anyway, this is Happy Ending Harry. Gave his youth to Tottenham, but she was a cruel mistress.” There’s a mirror with lightbulbs around it that looks like it was either stolen from Marilyn Monroe or a fifteen-year-old girl, Declan isn’t sure which. Harry Winks sits in front of the mirror, checking out his reflection as he puts on...blush? Declan wants to ask but can’t bring himself to form the words. Harry’s too lost in his own world to do much of anything, almost resembling a Ken doll in a way that both intrigues and intimidates Declan.

“Big Dick Dier. Loaned from Portugal to Everton, but you can see how that turned out. Man can speak at least two languages but there’s not a woman out there who cares about that once they catch a glimpse of what the Big Man is packing.” Eric Dier picks himself up off the floor after doing a round of push-ups, giving Declan a nod in greeting and going back to the sewing machine to work on… a g-string? Declan’s a little disgusted but he’s glad he’s not the one handling that. The man’s wide shoulders and large hands radiate Big Dick Energy and Declan would be lying to himself if he wasn’t at least a little curious to take a peek at that pecker.

“Last but not least: Tarzan Ty.” A man with dreads stands in one corner, stretching. He’s got tattoos and a massive scar on his knee that Declan’s curious about but knows better than to ask about. He looks familiar but he’s definitively older than the rest of the lads Declan has met so he’s not sure he recognizes him from any sort of training academy. Mason starts his introduction, but Ty cuts him off.

“Tyrone Mings,” he says, introducing himself for Declan. “Southampton Youth ‘til oh-nine. They let me go ‘cause I was too short - joke’s on them.” Ty laughs and Declan joins in. “Got a serious question,” he continues, shoving his non-scarred knee in Declan’s face. “That look ashy to you?”

“Uh…”

“Here,” Mason giggles, tossing him a bottle of what looks like self-tanner but Declan doesn’t question it, squirting out some of the lotion and preparing to massage it into Ty’s knee. It’s the oddest thing he’s done since being let go, but Declan just tells himself that he’s rubbed weirder substances on his own joints. He realizes that Mason was right - this place, this group of ex-footballers, really does feel like a family. He’s only been here a few minutes but already the camaraderie is there. Big Dick Dier teases Happy Ending Harry’s appearance like the two of them were teammates at Tottenham or something; Tarzan Ty has what appears to be a ritual, shoving Declan’s hands off his knee once he realizes the new boy was actually going to do it.

“So, here’s how it works. We do a group act first, then solos, followed by hot seats. If everything goes well, we get these birds all jacked up and then we raise the price of the hot seats so don’t fuck it all up for us, all right? That’s it, that’s all ya gotta do.” Declan tries to focus on what Mason is saying but it’s damn near impossible as he watches Eric stick his dick inside of the contraption and start to pump, his cock stretching to an absurd length. He quickly realizes that Eric’s got his dick inside a penis pump, watching as the big man’s already-big cock grows like the Grinch’s heart. Eric’s sporting the most insane look, his jaw slack but his eyes intense like he’s focused on something else, taking deep breaths as his cock stretches longer.

A voice entering the room cuts Mason off, the DJ coming into view. He’s speaking, but Declan can’t understand him. “This is Kyle, our DJ. Kyle, Deccers; Deccers, Kyle. He’s gonna be giving you the cue before each act.” Kyle hands Mase a water bottle filled with something and Mason’s eyes light up. “Pregame! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“It’s the love potion,” Kyle says in a weird voice, giving Declan a wide-eyed look.

“What is this? Strawberry?” Mason inspects it, pouring some of it into the cap and downing it.

“It’s a little mixture,” Kyle explains at Declan’s confused expression. “Got the recipe from a friend in Miami. He calls it Hey Juice.” Declan’s been around enough drugs to know that it’s GHB, but he keeps his mouth shut. “If you drink the whole bottle you’ll go ‘Hey!’” He flamboyantly sways and snaps his fingers. “You’re gonna like it, bro. Give it a sample.”

Declan holds up his hands, taking a step back. “I’m good, mate. Maybe tomorrow night?”

“That’s cool. More for me, I guess.” Mason shrugs, downing another cap.

The sounds of the crowd cheering start to seep through the walls, a man’s voice coming through too. “All right, all right, all right!”

“That’s Stonesy. Let’s get you ready.”

<< >>

[alphi-writes]

Thank you for ur answer earlier! It's crystal clear owo)👌 then, may i request jack jamil and kalim with dancing+bonfire? Thank you in advance! Have a good day/night and don't forget to stay hydrated! 🌸

Of course! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡ I'm really sorry it took so long to get these posted, but I tried to make up for it by putting more effort into the writing. Make sure to get at least a bit of sunlight today if you can🧡

Characters: Jack, Jamil, Kalim

Items: Dancing, Bonfire

Jack Howl

Jack decided to join you tonight, since you invited him to the bonfire earlier in the day. It was almost seven thirty by the time you got the bonfire actually going, and you were beginning to think Jack wouldn't want to stay.

"Alrighty then, Jack-A-Boy, let's get to our late night gab session." You threw yourself into the chair sat next to Jack's, leaning over the edge expectantly.

His ears flattened, "Don't you have any activities planned? Usually you'd want to set off a fountain candle or two, and you didn't bring any snacks-"

You leaned over, tipping the chair on its side where the two left feet lifted above the ground. You pushed your index finger to his lips, shushing him.

"It is autumn, and we are going to be festive without fountain candles. This is what normal people do, Jackie, they sit and watch the fire- oh my gosh are we old people now?"

Honestly, Jack felt lost. Maybe he was overthinking things, but you didn't hang out one-on-one with him very often, and if you did, Grimm was always there. This time it was just the two of you.

You sat quietly for a few minutes, may ten, just enjoying the crackling heat in the cool of autumn. Every once in a while, you'd feel Jack's gaze on you, and finally, you caught him.

"Are you... nervous? Is the Jack Howl nervous to be alone out here with me? A magic-less human? HaH! I laugh in the face of your untimely jitters!" He watched as you laughed in your seat, a light heat washing over his face.

Of course he was nervous! He didn't show it often, but he really liked hanging out with you! He didn't want you to know that though because then he would lose his cool-guy bad-boy vibe.

He'd be reduced to a puppy dog if he let on that he enjoyed being around you. And not only that, but your personalities were vastly different.

Jack was ripped from his thoughts when you stood up and grabbed his hands in yours.

You pulled him from his seat and lead him closer to the fire.

"Come on, let's dance! I know this one dance that we did every year at the festivals back home." Jack tugged against you, albeit flustered from the contact.

"Uhm, no, I don't dance." His hand flew up to the back of his neck at his hairline, and you could see the embarrassment in his furrowed eyebrows.

You hummed quietly, nodding in understanding.

"Fine, I'll show you this dance tonight, and if you can't perform it perfectly byyy... tomorrow- I'll just have to find some collateral for payback." You were obviously joking, but he looked visibly distraught by your words.

You only dismissed his expression before starting your dance.

You weren't the smoothest at dancing, and you were stiffer than you should've been, but you knew this dance well.

Your movements were quick and deliberate, sweeping in directions like a gust of wind. Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of Jack staring at you with large eyes.

His ears were straight up and his tail was wagging so quickly it was only a blur of grey.

You soon finished swaying around, pausing for a moment to catch your breath before grinning at Jack.

"Dancing is pretty cool, y'know, so I hope you'll dance with me some other time." You gazed down at Jack as he sat there quiet.

He didn't speak, and it caused your smile to falter.

"That was- wow, I've never seen anyone dance like that before." His face was burning and his tail had slowed to a wave.

Your smile returned. You laughed loudly, wiping the sweat from nerves and the heat off hour forehead.

"Phew, I thought you didn't like it for a moment there."

Jack jumped up, "No-!" He yelped, "it was great!"

His outburst startled you, and your eyes widened when his hands lightly grasped yours. He wasn't usually like this, and it made you chuckle.

"Could you teach me to dance like that?"

"Of course."

Jamil Viper

Jamil was suprised by the temperature of the air around your dorm.

"Is it usually this cold?"

"No," you threw a bundle of sticks on the formation of branches, "its autumn now so its beginning to cool down some. Its definitely colder than Scarabia though."

Jamil joined you tonight because you invited him to a good old fashioned autumn bonfire, which he's never been a part of.

You remember freaking out when he told you he'd never been to a bonfire before, and you knew that you'd have to invite him to on that exact night.

Sure you didn't plan on having one this night, but the absence of a bonfire in Jamil's memories just drove your determination.

"And it's just a large fire?"

"Yea, it's pretty cool. You'll see the appeal."

He nodded with his fist on his chin, scanning the surrounding area. He stood there awkwardly as you finally lit the brambles on fire, standing in front of the flames with your arms in the air.

"Hell yea, warmth."

You sat down on a fold-out chair you brought our earlier, patting the seat next to it for Jamil.

He sat down, staring at the fire. He was used to heat and fires like this one, but he'd never been in crisp air while a fire was going. It was a bit odd, but he liked the feeling of autumn. Maybe not more than the temperatures and winds of Scarabia or the Hot Sands, but he could see himself sitting here often.

"Oooh, Jamil, you dance, yes?"

He nodded, turning his head towards you.

When you met his eye, you began to think maybe you shouldn't ask him to dance. Your face began to tingle and you sunk in your chair.

"Why?"

You wrung your hands together, "ah, well, it's nothing, nevermind."

He sat quiet for a moment before standing up.

"I can dance for you, if that's what you want." He had a small smile on his face as he stood up and stretched his back muscles.

You panicked slightly, "No, you don't really have to Jamil-!"

"Do you not like my dancing?"

"Wh- no it's not that," you threw your hands up, "I just dont want you to feel like you have to dance for me."

He chuckled quietly at your panic.

"Its alright, I want to dance for you."

And he did.

He danced for what seemed like only a few moments, but was really about half an hour. Even in that time frame, he never once faltered, never once seemed tired or out of stamina.

He was so fluid, moving as if he were water in the wind. He was elegant, beautiful, gorgeous.

When he was finished, he swung to a stop, a large grin on his face. The largest smile you've ever seen him bare.

You were up in a second, glomping him in glee.

"Jamil, you were amazing! Oh my gosh, you were gorgeous!!" He chuckled while you peppered him with compliments.

When he brought his eyes back up to yours, his breathing hitched quietly.

The look in your eyes.

Not lust or hunger, not an emotion that was anything derogatory.

Just pure, utter, true love.

Your lips curved up and you chuckled quietly.

"Jeez, are you gorgeous." You whispered, gently bonking your head on his chest.

You felt his chest rise and fall steadily before his arms loosely wrapped around your back.

Kalim al Asim

"There you go, the last branch." You threw the last branch on and brushed the excess branch bits from your hands.

Kalim cheered happily, unfolding the chairs for the two of you.

Kalim was practically jumping in joy, "This is gonna be so fun!" He exclaimed.

You chuckled, "Yea."

He was always so exuberant and obnoxious, but it was just another part of his charms.

You were planning to have a bonfire by yourself, and when you mentioned it earlier today during lunch, Kalim jumped at the idea.

You couldn't just say 'nah you can't come to my bonfire in which I am the only attendee'. You weren't some monster.

So of course you invited him, and not begrudgingly, no, you were ecstatic to have him join you. He even helped build the bonfire.

"So you' ve never had a bonfire?"

"Not one like this!"

"What other kinds of bonfires are there..?"

You laughed it off, lighting the sticks ablaze.

"Burn baby, burn, said the pyromaniac!" You laughed as the flames grew.

Kalim grinned at you, moving closer to the fire to feel the heat.

"Its always hot in the Land of Hot Sands, so it's nice to feel heat while theres still the pinch of cold in the air."

It was quite relaxing. Although you liked the nip of cold, you loved the feeling of warmth just as much.

You weren't one for Scarabia heats, but a normal, balanced heat was the best for you.

Kalim swayed as he took in the heat, closing his eyes and grinning up at the night sky.

The way the light of the flames danced on his face made his dark skin light up with oranges and yellows. He looked so warm and peaceful. So happy.

When he opened his eyes and looked down at you, you averted your eyes quickly.

"I have a great idea! Lets dance!" He was already grabbing your hands before you could utter a word.

Now, before you even began to dance, you already knew Kalim was a solo dancer. Sure he would dance near others, but they were never dancing together.

He was attempting the common waltz, and although he was raised as royalty, you could tell that the fairy tale books weren't all factual.

Kalim often stepped on your feed, apologizing quickly. He bonked his head against yours a few times, and even accidentally tangled his leg with yours.

"Okay, let me lead, Kalim." You said through your laughter.

He nodded sheepishly, instead moving his hands to your shoulder and left hand. You intertwined your left hand with his, and rested your right on his waist.

You were close enough that your could feel his breath on your face.

"Okay, we'll start off slow so you can get the hang of the foot movements."

You looked down at his feet, motioning with your left foot for him to step backwards.

Your left foot went forward and his went back, then both of your right feet went outwards.

"This is the box step, the most basic form of waltz. Right foot forward."

You went around your imaginary boxes a few times before he actually began to understand the formation.

Left foot back, right foot out, right foot forward, left foot out. The dance was simple, and the box kept moving as you rotated around the bonfire in a circular motion.

He was a quick learner, and soon you found he could perform the steps without having to look at his feet.

"Y/N, I think I have a hang of it!"

You chuckled quietly, nodding, "I believe so!"

Although the box step wasn't usually performed around a bonfire, yours moved perfectly.

Now Kalim could go back to his dorm to tell Jamil about his partner dance.

"This is actually really fun." His voice had lowered to a whisper, and he was looking at you with a smile.

You smiled back, gently butting your forehead against his.

"Well yea, and it's simple too!"

The box step was a simple four-step rotation dance. Some would even call it boring if it drawled on for too long.

But the two if you continued on waltzing late into the night. You took this as time to share your thoughts and woes, held closely together, hands knitting to each other.

This was your time with Kalim. Just you, Kalim, and the autumn air.

[samthemarvelfan]

Baby Mine: One Shot

Summary: When the life you thought you’d live turns out to be a lie, who will be there to pick up the pieces? Someone you’d always hoped, but never expected.

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x OFC (brief Steve x ofc?)

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST, redemption, then straight and pure tooth rotting FLUFF. This is kinda anti-steve in the beginning, but i needed it for the angst!

A/N: idk where i get these ideas yall, but it is so smooshy and good at the end, I promise! <3

No one ever said life was fair, but you never knew it could be this cruel.

The anger, heartache, and resentment—all of these torturous feelings were so unfair to the little life growing inside you.

Your baby was everything to you. The shining light on your darkest days. Something—someone that was truly yours.

Forever.

Finding out you were pregnant was the happiest moment of your life. Watching as one pink line turned to two, you couldn’t wait to tell Steve. He always wanted a family, ‘a life after all this’, he would say; when the world was at peace and the Avengers didn’t need to be on the planets speed dial. You’d talked about buying a little house in the suburbs, raising as many babies as you could together, growing old and living the life he’s deserved for over a century.

He wanted that more than anything...it turns out he just didn’t want it with you.

After Thanos, after all the devastation in Wakanda, after all of these life threatening and life altering events, it seemed like life was beginning to settle.

The day of Tony’s memorial, you knew you felt off. After doing some quick cycle-math in your head, you’d decided to take a pregnancy test that evening.

The pink and white stick told you clear as day: positive. You were pregnant with Steve Rogers’ baby. You’d kept the news to yourself that day, not wanting to make the day about anyone but Tony Stark.

A few days later, Steve was going to return the stones as promised. You’d elected to stay home and surprise him when he got back.

Only Steve never came home.

6 Month Ago:

Your stomach was a mess, feeling like you’d vomit every 30 minutes. Whether that was your nerves or the pregnancy you weren’t sure, but either way, it was going to be worth it.

Steve would walk through that door any second and your lives were going to be changed forever. A new little life, the perfect mix of the both of you, was growing inside your belly.

The knock at the front door interrupted you daydreams. When you opened it, you immediately grew concerned at the sight in front of you.

“Bucky? What’s the matter?” You asked.

Bucky’s beautiful cerulean eyes were bloodshot and puffy, he’d obviously been crying.

“Are you hurt?” You begged, searching his figure for wounds.

He had a puzzled look on his face. “Me? I-I came to check on you, Els. Are you alright?”

He used his nickname for you, and your gaze now matched his own. “Why wouldn’t I be alright? Bucky, come in.” You say, tugging his hand.

Once he was inside, he let out a long breath. His weight shifting from heel to heel. “Ella, I want you to know, I’ll always be here for you. You mean so much to me...more than you’ll ever know.” He said, his voice shaking.

You walked up to him and put his face in your hands. “James, you’re scaring me. Where’s Steve? Have you told him what’s the matter? Maybe he can help—“

“What?” Bucky asks suddenly.

You blink, “Steve, have you seen him? He was Upstate for the day. I can give him a call if you’d like—“

The color was drained from his face, “Y-You don’t know. He didn’t tell you,” Bucky said in disgust. “That coward couldn’t face you...”

Bucky’s words hit you like a wave. This was James Buchanan Barnes—the one person in the world who would always have Steve Rogers’ back.

And he called him a coward.

“B-Bucky. Please what’s going on?” You ask, feeling you legs shaking.

James brushes his face his his hands, “Ella...Steve, h-he’s gone.”

The floor felt like it sank beneath you, causing you to wobble. “N-no, he’s Upstate. He’s Upstate and he’ll be home by dinner.” You said, denial setting in.

James grabbed your hand, and shook his head. “Steve left to return the stones. He missed his time stamp, Ella. He stayed in the past, he stayed with Peg—“

You head snapped up.

Bucky swallowed hard. “He stay with her. He stayed with Peggy. He swore he told you. That you’d discussed it and wished him well. I’m...God, I’m so sorry, Els.”

You felt your vision blacken and your legs completely give out. Bucky caught you before your head smashed into the hardwood flooring.

“How’s my little guy doing?” Bucky asked, rubbing your stomach as he plopped next you you on the couch.

“He or She is doing backflips.” You sassed.

He chuckled, placing a hand on your leg as he spoke, “I know we won’t find out until he’s born, but I’m telling you. I got this gut feelin’, Els.”

A soft laugh escaped you, as you placed a hand over his. “We’ll see James Barnes. We’ll see.”

The two of you had just finished moving Bucky’s things into your house. He’d offered to live with you until the baby came; he didn’t like the thought of you being alone.

“Thank you for staying with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You said, shamefully looking to your fiddling fingers.

Bucky turned towards you slightly, “Hey, look at me, Els.” He urged. “I would never, ever abandon you. You need me, I’m there. It’s no questions asked. Ever, I promise.”

The tears prickling your eyes couldn’t be hidden, not with what your hormones were doing to you. Falling for Bucky wasn’t the plan, but it had been the easiest thing in the world.

Every appointment, every anxiety attack, every craving—Bucky was there. He would read stories to your tummy, and hold you when the panic of everything caught up with you. There were days you’d forget about Steve all together, but somethings you just couldn’t forget.

“I just wish it was you.” You whisper.

“What?” He asks.

You look at Bucky, eyes filled with tears. “I wish this was your baby, James. You’ve been there for me for as long as I’ve known you. Way before Steve left, and now this innocent, little life will have to grow up feeling abandoned.”

You wiped your eyes. “You’re the most honest and kind man I’ve ever known, Buck. I love you, and it kills me that this baby isn’t yours. You deserve it, you deserve him or her.”

Bucky looked at you thoughtfully, putting a hand on yours. “Who says it can’t be?”

Blinking, you double check if you’d heard him right, “What?”

He stands abruptly, “I’m serious, Ella. Who’s says he can’t be my son? Or she can’t be my daughter?”

“Bucky it’s—“

“I know what it is, Els. I also know that this little one got the shit end of the stick as far as fathers go.” Bucky sank to his knees in front of you and took your hands in his.

“Doll, I’ve loved you for forever. When you were with Steve, it killed me...but you were happy, and he seemed happy. I’m telling you now, and I’ll swear on whatever you need me to, that I will be there.”

You sobbed as Bucky took your face in his hands, “I’ll be there for the bottles, the diapers, and hey, I already don’t sleep so that’s a plus.” He jested, getting you to smile.

“I’ll be there for the boo-boos, for the little league games or dance recitals, or both. I’ll be there for the first day of high school, the first date, prom, college, all of it.”

You smiled as the tears ran down you cheeks. “James...” you said dreamily.

“As far as I’m concerned, that is my baby. DNA doesn’t make you a Dad, Els but...God dammit, I’ll be the best Dad I can be to our little one. I promise.”

Throwing your arms around him, you crash your lips to his. It’s a kiss that says everything you want to say, but couldn’t find the words for.

“I love you. I love you, James.” You cry. Bucky presses his forehead against yours and smiles. “I love you more. I love you both.”

5 years later:

“Mommy, help!” Your son shouted as he laughed his way into your bedroom.

You smiled at him from your bed, “What is it, Jack?”

His giggles filled your ears, “There’s a tickle monster, Mommy! He’s chasing me!”

Your eyes caught the clock, noticing Bucky had let you sleep in on this beautiful, Saturday morning.

“Not the tickle monster! Come here, Jack! Hurry!” You throw your blankets up and he crawls underneath them.

It’s quiet...too quiet. “Do you think we’re safe?” You ask.

He nods.

“Hmm, let’s check.” You toss the blankets off, and are greeted with the goofiest ‘roar’ you’d ever heard.

“Rooooar! I’m the tickle monster!” Bucky shouted, earning a loud scream from Jack.

Bucky tickled his little foot, and Jack scrambled his way back up the bed. “Mommy, I told you! Daddy got turned into the tickle monster!”

You stand quickly, pushing your son behind you. “Don’t worry, baby! Mama knows the cure!” You rush Bucky and plant a long kiss on his lips.

“Ewww, Mommy...” Jack griped, covering his eyes.

You look at Bucky, who’s smiling ear to ear. “Do you believe this? I save you from being a tickle monster for all-time and these are the thanks I get.”

Bucky smirks, “I need to be saved one more time I think...”

You giggle, and smooch him again.

“Okay! Enough kisses! Dad, can we tell Mommy the surprise?” Jack said excitedly.

Bucky hoists Jack up onto his shoulders, “Go ahead, buddy.”

Jack covered his mouth in excitement, “Mommy! We made waffles for breakfast, and Daddy put chocolate chips in them! You gotta try it!”

Your eyes widened with excitement as he spoke so proudly. “Oh my goodness! I can’t wait, let’s go!”

In the kitchen, you sat with your family and ate breakfast. This was your life, your normal. A beautiful weekend with your husband and son and absolutely zero plans.

“Daddy can we maybe go fishing with Uncle Sam again? I wanna catch the biggest one ever.” Jack said dramatically.

Bucky chuckled, “Sure Jacky, I’ll call him after breakfast, okay?”

He nodded, sipping his OJ.

“Does Mommy want to do anything special today?” Bucky asked, placing a hand on your knee.

You squeeze it, and smile. “Actually, Mommy has a present for Daddy.”

Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, “Oh yeah?”

You slapped his shoulder, “James.”

He kissed your hand, “Should I close my eyes?”

You nod, “Jack, come help Mommy for a second?”

Jack scoots off his chair and hurries to you, “Okay, now give this to Daddy.”

“Surprise!” He said happily.

Bucky opened his eyes, and stared at the long, rectangular watch box. “A watch, baby?” He smiled, looking up at you.

You smirk, “Open it.”

Bucky pulled the blue lid off slowly, and carefully. When it was placed on the table in front of him, you watched his eyes widen.

With shaking hands, he pulled out the small pink and white stick; a positive pregnancy test.

His eyes were welling with tears as he looked at you. “A baby, baby?”

You nod, and he stands instantly, throwing his arms around you.

“Me too, me too!” Jack shouted.

Bucky picked him up into his arms to join the hug. “Can you believe this, buddy? You’re going to be a big brother!”

Jack claps with delight, “I want a sister, Mommy.”

“You do?!” You say, smooching his cheek.

Bucky looks at you dreamily. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest guy in the world, Doll.”

Shaking your head, you place a kiss on his lips. “We’re both lucky, Buck. Lucky in love.”

[zacc-attacc]

Nature: A Javid Oneshot

A/N: My first ever oneshot on this website! I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count- 1.2k

Jack loved the open sky. He loved the stars, the sounds of nature, and everything in between. But, more than anything, it calmed him, something that not many things were able to do. As a kid, he had always dreamed of falling asleep under the stars every single night. And when he was bounced around in foster care, the night sky had been the one common variable. Always there, like a blanket. Luckily for Jack, Some of the Newsies had put together a camping trip in the woods near campus. They had tents (from the Dollar Tree, probably), a bunch of marshmallows, some hotdogs, and a whole lot of energy. And Jack? Jack an invite and a limited will to live. At least Davey would be there, which, to be honest, had its ups and downs.

Ups, because Davey was single-handedly the sweetest human alive and a fun dude to hang out with. And downs, because Davey was Mom Friend Supreme™ and also had an annoying tendency to make Jack’s normally stoic heart do a tap dance in his chest. Which really was inconvenient because Jack’s last relationship had ended only four weeks ago. It wasn’t a nasty breakup, he and Katherine were actually still friends, but the boys still expected him to be depressed about it. But Jack didn’t like to linger. He was upset for a few days, but now he was over it. Katherine obviously was as well, since she was seen going on a few coffee dates with some girl. 

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, he could be whoever he wanted to be because that’s just how it was with the Newsies.

Tonight, he could eat bargain hot dogs and s’ mores, and avoid the fact that he was hopelessly in love with the only man he couldn’t have; because god forbid David Jacobs dated a mess like him. 

Jack knew exactly where he lay in David’s mind. He was a close friend, maybe a sort of Uncle to his future children with his perfect little life with his husband in the suburbs. David liked him well enough, but he would likely never love him. And Jack had tried to accept that, even though, thus far, it had only made it much worse.

“Ay! Jack! You packed?” Crutchie yelled from his lower bunk. Jack was stretched out on the top bunk, staring at a half-finished political cartoon for his class. 

“Yeah… What time’d the guys say to be there?” Jack sat up, hitting his head on the low ceiling. He wasn’t even that tall and it managed to injure him on a daily basis. 

“...In five minutes.”

“Shit-” Jack muttered, scrambling to jump down the bunk, only succeeding in hitting his head yet again on the ceiling. After hitting the floor in the heap, all Jack could hear was Crutchie’s cackles. 

“Just kidding, It’s actually in 20- I just wanted to see your reaction,” Crutchie wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“Yeah, real funny, Crutch,” Jack mumbled, rolling his eyes and smiling. As much as he loved his little brother, he, unfortunately, knew exactly how to get Jack riled up quite easily, which normally ended in Jack running into a wall or stabbing himself in the arm with a pen in a panic.

“S’funny to me,” Crutchie choked out, still laughing. Jack pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the assorted chip crumbs that had migrated from the shitty shag carpeting of his dorm onto his shirt.

“I know, I know,” Jack muttered, grabbing Crutchie’s crutch from the wall and handing them to him. Looking at his laughing face, Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile. 

“Alright, let’s get a move on… You ready?” Jack shook his head while still grinning, snatching his duffle bag and Crutchie’s backpack from beside the door. 

“Ay! I can carry that!" Crutchie protested, making a grab at the bag. 

“Wow, brother dearest, won’t even let me carry a bag,” Jack joked, sticking out his tongue and popping into a dead sprint down the hallway. 

“NOW THAT’S JUST UNCALLED FOR!” Crutchie yelled from the hallway. 

“LET ME TAKE CARE OF YOU, STUPID HEAD!” Jack shouted back, slamming open the door for the stairs and sliding onto the railings down the flights. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled out his phone.

“Text RaceyBoi.” 

“What would you like to say?” that stupid automated voice asked back, not fully human or robotic. 

“‘Can you go walk Crutchie to the campsite? Left him for CPS reasons.’” CPS was not, in fact, Child Protective Services, but instead Crutchie Protection Squad.

Smiling to himself, Jack started walking towards the woods on the outskirts of campus. He thought he saw Kid Blink and Spot at one point, Heely-ing towards the woods. He couldn’t help but wonder how the wheels would hold up amongst all the vegetation, and quietly hoped he wouldn’t have to call an ambulance tonight. 

“Hey, Jack!” came a familiar voice from behind him. His heart automatically deciding to kick into overdrive, Jack turned around to see none other than David Jacobs, grinning and clutching a duffle bag. 

“Whaddup, Dave,” Jack grinned back, clapping the taller boy on the shoulder. Seriously, who gave him the right to be this tall? He was like a noodle with a head and arms. 

“You heading down to the campsite?” Davey asked, falling into step with Jack. 

“That’s the plan. Race is taking Crutchie so that idiot won’t try to carry his backpack again.” 

“...You realize he can carry it perfectly fine, right?” Davey said, looking slightly confused.

“Yeah, but I just feel like doin’ something nice for him, y’ know?” 

“You may be stupid at times, but you are a good brother, Jack Kelly,” Davey chuckled, taking off his hat and flipping it backward. 

“Ey, now don’t get to tellin’ the boys that, I have a reputation as a jerk to keep,” Jack couldn’t stop smiling. Why couldn’t he stop smiling? He felt like someone had turned him into the fucking sun from the Teletubbies. 

“I don’t think you could pass as a jerk if you tried,” Davey shrugged, looking into Jack’s eyes so he could get the point across. God, his eyes were brown. Beautiful, chocolatey, perfect brown. 

“You would be surprised,” Jack said, tearing his eyes away. 

Don’t let yourself get attached, dammit. 

“Hey,” Davey stopped. Jack stopped too, staring at him. He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder. 

“Don’t… Don’t talk like that. I know you, Jackie. Okay? And you aren’t an asshole.” 

“Jeez, David, only a few minutes into the trip and you’re already on the late-night talks-” Jack turned away, hoping Davey couldn’t see that he was blushing. 

“I need to hear you say it, okay?” He turned Jack around, forcing him yet again to look into his eyes. 

“Fine. I… I ain’t an asshole. Ya happy?” Jack bit his tongue forcefully. That almost physically pained him to say. 

“Yeah. I… I’m sorry Jack,” Davey said. Jack still wasn’t looking at him. 

“Don’t apologize for caring, Davey.” 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It was late. The shitty fire that had taken them almost a full hour to make was burning low, and Jack had to keep prodding it with a random stick to keep it lit. Most of the boys had already retired to their tents and sleeping bags, and Davey was fast asleep on his chair. Race was the only one still out. 

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Race said, tossing the remains of his s’more into the fire. 

“What? Oh, nah, I’ll wake him up when I head in. Poor kid, being a pre-med student probably never sleeps,” Jack pointed out. 

“How long do you think you’ll be staying out?” Race asked, standing up and stretching. 

“‘Till I get tired,” Jack prodded the fire again, before throwing in another stick. 

“Then he’ll be out here all night,” Race joked, cracking a smile.

“I’ll wake him up before then. Wouldn’t want him to get hypothermia or some shit.” 

“It’s the middle of April, I highly doubt he’ll get hypothermia, Jack.” 

“...Did Racetrack Higgins seriously just say an educated statement?”

“Goodnight-” Race turned away suddenly, seeming intent on changing the subject. 

“YOU CAN’T CHANGE IT NOW, WE KNOW YOU’RE SMART,” Jack whisper-shouted, not wanting to wake any of the boys up (especially not Davey). 

Race replied with his silence. 

Sighing, Jack sat back in his chair. Not having any will to sleep, and nothing more to do, he grabbed out his sketchbook. Nature was always good for inspiration. 

Well, it could’ve been nature, or it could’ve been Davey. Because, without even realizing it, Jack had started to sketch the sleeping boy’s figure. His right fist was supporting his cheek, his hat was half-tipped onto his face, shading it slightly. His legs were crossed, and his left arm was set on top of them. 

Behind him was a backdrop of pine trees, and, even though that wasn’t the actual view, a full moon, and stars. So many stars. All spelling out little words of love in Spanish, Jack’s first language. 

Precioso. Bonita. Perfecto. 

His hair was mostly tucked under his cap. His eyes were softer when he slept. A ghost of a smile played at his lips. 

Increíble. 

Perfect. 

Just as Jack was signing his name and dating the piece, Davey began to stir. 

Quickly shutting the book, Jack simply stared up at the stars he could see despite the light pollution and thick trees. 

“Hey, Jack, saw you drawing there,” Davey said, quietly. 

“Oh- uh- yeah, just… lookin’ through some old pieces,” Jack stammered. 

“Can I see?” 

“Uh- no, this isn’t my graded stuff, it’s all just sketches-“

“Y’know, for an art student, you really don’t like showing your art.” 

“Uh- Fine.” Jack gave up and strode across the fire to hand him the book. It was mostly drawings of the boys, maybe he wouldn’t look that far. 

...Spoiler alert, he looked that far. 

“...Is this me? Right back then, when I was sleeping?” 

“Uh-“

“You really made me look better than I’ve ever seen myself.” 

“Well, that’s how I see you,” Jack said before he could think about his words. Y’know, like a normal person who is trying to hide a massive crush that could end one of his best friendships. 

“Th-that’s… how you see me?” Davey was blushing now. Blushing. Not disgusted. 

“Uh… yeah. Y’see here, th-the moon behind ya, the way it… it focuses on you.” Jack said, kneeling by his chair and pointing to it. 

You are digging your own grave, Jack Kelly. 

“Jack, I… that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Davey was still blushing. He turned his face to Jack’s. He was so close… 

“Well… I draw what I think, Dave, ‘cause words… they ain’t my strong suit,” Jack chuckled, pulling back. But Davey leaned forward. 

“Your drawings don’t need words, Jack. But the artist of them… That is a man that deserves millions of words said about him.” 

“D-Davey… Don’t. Please, don’t do this,” Jack shook his head, standing back up. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable? I- I’m sorry, I thought that we-“ 

“No, David. You didn’t. That’s the exact issue! D-d’ya really think I want to end up breaking your heart? We… We can’t do this, ‘cause it’ll end with me hurting you just like I have a million people! And you don’t deserve that fate! You’re too good for me, David,” Jack might’ve been crying. He wasn’t sure. But he sure as hell was ranting. 

“Jack-“ 

“Don’t Jack me, don’t try to act like it could be any different. We know exactly how this is going to end, and I- I can’t stand losing you, Dave.” 

There was a moment of silence. It was obvious Davey was picking his next words carefully. 

“You won’t.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“You won’t because I won’t let it, Jack Kelly. I won’t let you lose me as a friend, ever. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.” 

“Da-“ 

In two strides, Davey crossed the circle of chairs and shut Jack up with a kiss, half-crushing him with how tightly he was holding him. 

He did this… this thing that made it obvious this wasn’t his first kiss. The way he moved his head up and down just a little bit. The way he seemed all in but ready to pull away if they needed to at any second. 

But more than anything, there was a definitive Davey-ness to him that made it all perfect. 

So Jack had found one more reason to like nature. It was where he shared his first-ever kiss with his boyfriend, David Jacobs.

[girlofthefandom]

Tales from the smp thoughts and random quotes I enjoy (essentially delayed live blogging) Part 1

I love all these npcs already

“Hurry up camera man!”

Yes! Gladiators! I remember seeing someone say that idea

Just some joes

Porkeous the 7th. Oh no I can see the fan girls now.

Yes! Punch em off!!

“Yeah same.”

“That’s good cause I don’t” “we build a new colosseum every time”

I can’t want to see the names of everyone’s characters. Especially Philz’

Stairs everyone’s worst enemy

Tubbo... sweet child

She disappeared!! Witch craft! Burn the witch!

Tubbo=Jacky (forced off streets)

Fundy=Laggius Maximus (I love this name so much with the spinning)

Please don’t kill both the boys in this fight. But also I’m cheating for Laggius.

Subbin Empire? Subbin to Technoblade!

Go Laggius! This is not going to go well... this is really not going to go well...

No I refuse to root for Jacky. I like Laggius the bit will be funnier later.

I want to know what happened to the last camera guy! Let us know!

Vertical feeling! Heaven forbid! Also look at them insulting TikTok

I love the background music. Feels magical.

A lovely jump

Surprises... well that’s ominous. And wait the first one!

Tower! Towers are always good.

We got our popcorn. Ready to watch this fight.

Laggius is... coming... maybe...

GG Jacky... he hasn’t won yet but gg.

Lava!!!! Hooray! Love us some good lava

Poor Laggius... he was burning too early

And Laggius is still lagging

Why isn’t Jacky burning?? He won???

Knocked unconscious in the lava. What is this a Pokémon game?

GG Jacky.

Nobody needs to know the way around here.

“Almost like a video game” just break that fourth wall right down

Keeps looking at sapnaps character and talking about strong. How sweet. We love some fiancé’s.

Please don’t throw Laggius to the wolves

Jack Manifold = Bartholomew

Phil having to translate. I love it.

Watson = Phil

Good pun. Very good pun.

Nobody likes Punz. Gosh everyone’s so mean

We love Watson. Let’s go Watson.

Bartholomew with the drugs and Watson.

Crazy drunk man with fire resistance

I agree with Watson why did we come to this cousin.

Sapnap in a hole

Also I love the drinking age being 3

Let’s go Watson!!!

Where are my Pom poms? I’ve got a Watson to cheer for.

Execute those architects.

And their first Borns.

Watson! Watson! Watson!

“Welcome to the land of the living Bartholomew.”

I love the slow fight.

Come on Watson shoot em!

Oh no. Oh no. Come on Watson. You’re so close!

Noooooooooo.

Why Bartholomew???? I can’t spell that! I’ve been relying on autocorrect this whole time.

Watson would be so much easier to spell.

Still must go down the stairs.

Speed running life. That’s what I do.

No one dies. Just take them to nurse joy.

Poor Punz being so bullied

Punz=Levi

Levi? Really? Oh well I like the name. He won’t like but I like the name.

Also why does Levi have such a full backstory.

Has weapon hands with a horrible southern accent. I love it.

“Hmmm”

Who is Ol’ Sap?

Sapnap = John

And no creativity apparently.

Laggius had the best name for a gladiator. All the others are too boring.

Why are we beating up BBH

Hannah=Genevieve

Genevieve! I can spell that thanks to old Barbie movies!!

Go Genevieve! Trained her life! I love this woman!

Mostly women upstairs. I love it our fandom is so biased.

“Are you sure about that?”

Darlin? Really that’s not the right word.

Go Genevieve! I probably shouldn’t cheer for her since everyone I’ve cheered for has lost.

But still GO GENEVIEVE!!

Our empire is millions in dept

Let’s step up the battle! Let’s gooooo

“Ayyyyy!!!”

Go Genevieve! Levi hush up with your gills.

Jump in! Splish Splash!

Wait why are we listening to Mario Kart music? Wait I recognize this song.

Go Genevieve!!

YES FINALLY! I PICKED THE WINNER!

Levi hush. You done lost messed up southern boi.

Go Genevieve! I can actually spell your name!

I straight forgot Porkeous the 7ths name for a second and had to check my notes.

Stairs. Woop de doo.

“Pick the most handsome” wow

Ol’ Sap = John as I remember. And he’s sticking with it. Bold man sticking with it.

Ranboo = Ran

Just Ran and it’s just the enderman part of the skin. Haha. Very funny.

BBH = Edward

He went from strange voice to normal(ish) voice

I don’t like Edwards speech pattern. At the very least. Yucky.

John v. Edward letsa go

Go John!

Wait we renaming? This is going to get confusing.

Handsome. Can you two quit flirting (not really keeping going)

Alrighty then Ugly v. Edward

Go Ugly! (Sentence I never expected to type)

The seat thing

And saying king Julien. Sigh.

Just BRB real quick.

Thinking about buying things. Oh he meant ad.

Alright Ad 1/3 let’s go.

No I can’t even open chat to watch them instead of the ad. Boooo.

2/3 let’s get this done!

3/3

Snickers just loading for forever

Alrighty we survived.

And a crown really? Just wants his normal skin back.

Let’s go Ugly!

Bo-at battle! Let’s go!

Please don’t shoot Ugly.

Go Ugly!

“King Are you ok!”

I still hate Edwards speech pattern so much

Please. Just pretend to have a fair fight.

The rabbits???? Cant rabbits swim?

Hooray rabbits! I don’t what purpose they serve but I love them.

Edward or Edwardo? Did I miss something?

Ok it seems both.

Shooting a rabbit? Disowner on you disowner on your cow.

Killing pets reference? The references are so good.

YES UGLY!!!! Thank heavens!

I’m 2/4 for choosing the winner.

I hope ugly keeps on winning

“Colosseum Remote Control”

3 in 1 battle how did they not plan correctly for an even number

Nerds hold cameras you heard it here folks

I don’t want to hear deeper for some of these stories. All I want to see is Genevieves further story. She seems deep.

“Massive pigs growling at us. No offense”

Watson trying to clean the table.

We bringing in the Harmonika.

Harmonika fits the moment.

Yes name him handsome! Haha

Grievous is how I’m spelling that stupid sounding name. But it’s better than John and ugly.

I can’t get over the name Ran.

BE GONE LEVI!

I love Watson having to take care of Bartholomew. Translating for him and waking him up.

Phil just can’t resist playing the dad.

No no stopping just fighting.

Also I love Watson saying break it up. I wish Watson had won.

Genevieve sounds like such a lovely lady and she deserves to win.

As much as I love Grevious I want Genevieve to win.

Sapnap=Grevious good gracious this is hard to follow.

Ran is cool. I’m going to kill over listening to them just saying Ran.

Complicated backstory. Found the main character.

Ran is cool.

Wait this place is going down??? Pardon me???

Three person fight is...

Grevious v. Ran v. Bartholomew

Genevieve v. Jacky

Puns! Let’s go! And of course Levi likes Puns.

Everyone is so mean.

GO GENEVIEVE!

And Watson just babysitting Bartholomew

I’m going to get good at spelling Bartholomew. Because I was horrible at it before.

Empire of women!

Cages=Lava

“Mmm what smells good”

Battle star!!

“Boing Boing Boing”

Water dome?

Water Dome in Lava?

Well he tried zombies/bunnies

Lava in the water sphere?

Only fight at top of fishbowl got it.

GO GENEVIEVE!

Come on girl you’ve got this!

No Genevieve babe please don’t lose.

“The boats going down.” “It’s yelling timber.” “Like that song that hasn’t been made yet.”

Hurry up and die. I love it.

NO GENEVIEVE!!!!!

Do do do do

That was a longer fight. But pretty good.

To the cellars! Not to the cellars!

No! The boat is gone!

That was close.

This feels like a funky Pokémon game.

Jacky is a finalist! Good for him. I’m not cheering for him but good for him.

TRIANGLE FORMATION

Who’s missing? Oh wait it’s Bartholomew

“Intense prison cosmetic surgery”

Rabbits! We love rabbits.

Oh no faceplant mode!

What is even happening?!?!

Thinking creatively.

Just don’t die. What a game.

Cant wait to watch the thinking creatively animatic.

In a boat to avoid floating.

Attack!

Go Ran!

Oh we’re lagging.

Disable the dive mode!

The zombies are a bit much. Oh everyone’s actually fighting.

Rats why weren’t there baby zombies when Watson was going. They even made a Phil reference.

No treaties.

Go Ran! Keep on running away.

I love Ran.

GO RAN! I love Grevious. But GO RAN

Faster Zombies. Zombies go zoom.

Oh Grevious won.

Wait why does Ran have grass and why do they see him again.

Placing more dirt to clean old dirt.

Poor Grevious.

I feel sorry for him now.

Stand on da dirt.

Put the rabbits in the cages!!!!

I cheer for Grevious.

And yes there are many a loser.

Everything is so spicy. As in lava is there.

You can’t kick your fiancé’s future descendent out of the gang.

A full inventory

Watson with the backup button!

Seriously all he can do is be a dad.

OH BOY LAGGIOUS IS BACK!

And he’s here for the picture.

And Watson is (still) bullying him!

Bartholomew is pure trouble.

Ooops. The root beer was on the brain.

Watson! Come get your drunk!

Oh wait he actually did! I love this so much.

Petition for more Phil in Tales.

Only Genevieve voting for Jacky

Some people refusing to vote.

I’m sorry who asked if Laggius is ok.

He is always (not) ok

He is fine. See.

I love Laggius’ character the most.

Go winners!

Reformed kinda. If that doesn’t sum up the whole of the smp.

All the grass in the cage.

And Laggius being his slow self.

Nothing v. General

I love how it went from King to Emperor to King

And there is Laggius.

I don’t know how anyone else is spelling Laggius but I like this way and refuse to edit it if it actually spelled different.

Oh we’re getting more ads.

1/3 let’s go

[allisonxmoynihan]

new beginnings ~ j. hughes

Request: Can you write a jack one where you move next door to the hughes and it’s the middle of senior year so jack helps you around school and takes you on a tour of much and is proud when he shows you the usa hockey arena. And then you guys start to catch feelings and everyone sees it but u guys and u meet the team and jacks family. And you guys start dating and then like fast forward and you are going to the draft with him and it’s just a happy ending:))

Word Count: 3,470

Your mom wakes you from your slumber as she pulls up the driveway of a blue suburban home with light stone accents, “welcome to your new home honey,” 

You wince at the bright sun, and look straight up at the house, “Can’t wait,” you sigh, opening up the passenger door and going to help your mom unload the moving truck. Your mom joins you, helping you grab boxes and move them into the garage, “Lighten up, you never know what will happen sweetie,”

You give her a weak smile, “yeah, it’ll be great mom. My senior year of high school starts in three days and I don’t know anyone.”

Later that night you were helping your mom unpack the kitchen when the doorbell rang, “y/n can you please get that?”

When you answer the door you’re shocked when you see an older lady and two boys who appeared to be about your age, “um, hi?” you offer

“Welcome to the neighborhood!” The lady says, as the younger of the two boys holds out a plate of cookies. You turn your head back, relieved to see your mom coming into the foyer.

“Hi, I’m Ellen,” the lady says as she shakes your mom’s hands.

You take the cookies from the younger boy, “thanks,”

“Of course, mom said it would be nice to bake for the new neighbors and I really wanted to make a cake but I’m not too good in the kitchen yet. Jack,” the boy says pointing back at the other one, who honestly looks uncomfortable standing on your front porch, his light blue eyes glued to you, “wouldn’t help with the cookies and almost ate all the dough, but mom and I managed to get some for ya. I’m Luke by the way,”

You laugh at how much he shared with you, “Well, thanks for the cookies Luke, I’m sure they’re great. I’m y/n by the way”

“Jack’s a senior too!” Ellen exclaims, pointing back at Jack who redirects his attention to his mom mom. “He’d love to show y/n around town and school and help her out,” she smiles, “right, Jack?”

Jack rolls his eyes and it’s clear to you that he couldn’t be more uninterested in showing you around school, “Mom,” he groans, throwing his head back a little. 

“It’s okay, Mrs. Hughes, really, I’ll be fine on Monday,” you start and she shushes you.

“Right. Jack.” She says again, her voice more stern, her eyebrows raising slightly for emphasis.

Jack turns towards you again, a forced, weak smile gracing his face, “Yeah, I’ll show you around on the first day,”

~*~

“So, you ready for school tomorrow?” your mom asks, scooping the two of you a bowl of your favorite ice cream to share, a ritual you’ve been doing every year since first grade.

You shrug, “I don’t know, I’m kind of nervous.”

She smiles, placing a some cherries over the top of the sundae, “You have Jack showing you around,”

You wrinkle up your face, “yeah, that’’ be great. He’s kind of cocky, and doesn’t seem very interested in helping anyone but himself,”

Your mom hands you a spoon, digging in herself and taking a bite of the dessert, “He could be very sweet. Give him a chance, what do you have to lose sweetie?”

~*~

A loud honking snaps you out of the daydreams running through your head as you wait for the bus. You turn around and see a car full of boys pull to a stop, and you frown when you see an overly happy Jack stick his head out of the window.

“y/n, get in, I’ll drive you so I can show you where your classes are and everything,”

“I can take the bus, but thanks”

You hear the rest of the car erupt in laughter, “She told you Hughesy,” one of the boys says,

Jack smiles cockily back at you, “You’ll be late, and on your first day, that wouldn’t look to great sweetheart,”

Your cheeks are flaming hot at his statement, and begrudgingly you slide into the back of the car, “thanks” you mutter under your breath.

The boy in the passenger seat turns around, “Damn Jack, thought you said she was cute, but I think you meant to say hot”

Jack glares at his friend, as the boy next to you smiles, “so you’re y/n?” you blush slightly, nodding your head.

Jack clears his throat, “so, uh, y/n, these are my teammates alex, trevor, and pat”

You nod, smiling at each of them, remembering that Mrs. Hughes had mentioned Jack plays hockey for a “really good team” as she put it, which you had just found out from alex was a national development program.

Speeding through the parking lot, Jack quickly turns the wheel so he can park the car and you find yourself gripping the door handle. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jack laughs,

Trevor turns back to look at you, “you’ll get used to it,” he smiles.

Walking up to the front doors Jack comes up right next to you, sticking his hand out, “where’s your schedule?” you hand it over and he quickly glances at it, nodding his head and smiling, “alright, we have some classes together and then you have some with trevor, but we have lunch together so i’ll pick you up at the class before and then trev will pick you up from the cafeteria and take you to you afternoon classes, and alex will take you from last period back to me so I can take you home,” he rambles, holding the door open for you to walk in, before promptly letting it fall behind him onto Pat.

You look back at Jack with wide eyes, “I’m sorry, what?”

He laughs at your confusion, “just follow me, we’ll all help you out today.”

Jack takes you on a tour of the school, pointing out your classrooms, the office, cafeteria, gym and nurse’s office. As Jack is telling you about your teachers and telling you what to expect you hear his friends snickering, “I have a cute new neighbor,” 

“Look at him, he’s a goner,” 

“He’s whipped,” 

“But I thought he said they’re just friends?” 

Jack’s voice snaps you out of the conversation between the boys behind you, “First period’s gonna start soon, so we have 1-3 together, you have fourth with trev, lunch with me, 6th with trev, and 7th and 8th with alex and pat. They’ll help out too, so if you’re ever lost just look for one of us.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it y/n! Just stay put until one of us comes and finds you,” Trevor reassures you

“Yeah, for sure, we’ll be here for you” Alex adds

“For sure,” Pat says.

You laugh, “Thanks so much guys”

On the way to calculus, your first class of the day, you hear Trevor ask, “Hey, y/n what do you think of Plymouth so far?”

You shrug, “I haven’t really left my neighborhood, so I really don’t know,”

Jack sends a look to Trevor who raises his hands up in defense as the first bell rings. Jack tugs your wrist gently, and you oblige, following him into a classroom as you wave to the other boys.

“They’re really nice,” you smile, taking a seat next to Jack in the back row.

“Yeah, they’re alright,” he mumbles, and you look at him confused, but he just stares at the chalk board at the front of the room, “have you really not seen town yet?” he asks suddenly and you nod, “I’ll show you around Plymouth and the surrounding towns tonight after my practice then. I’ll pick you up at nine”

~*~

Jacky Hughes

Hey, i’m on the driveway

“Mom! I’m going out with a friend,” You say, throwing on your converse.

Your mom leans her head out of her office, “At 9:00? Are you going out with Jack?”

You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are as red as a tomato, “Go, have fun, just don’t be out too late,”

You get into Jack’s car and are shocked to see that his hair is still wet with sweat from his probably grueling practice, and his gear is all in the back, “Oh, um, you could have gone home and changed,” you say, suddenly feeling like a burden.

Jack smiles, backing out of your driveway, “Don’t worry about it, this is more important anyway,”

You feel butterflies in your stomach, but quickly disregard them, “So, how was practice?” 

“Good, we did some good off ice training today since it’s still pre-season” He says slowing for a red light, “here you can have the aux, play whatever you want,”

You smile, turning on your favorite music, and by the look on Jack’s face you can tell he isn’t a fan of what you would describe as the most beautiful music on earth.

“I can turn something else on,” you offer

Jack smiles, turning out onto a main street from the subdivision, “Don’t worry about it”

As Jack continues to drive through Plymouth he’s quick to point out all his favorite places: chipotle, the grocery store that has his favorite sour gummy candy, a frozen yogurt place, and so much more. He takes a sharp turn down a side road, “I gotta show you something,”

Jack pulls into a parking lot that’s illuminated by radiant street lights, throwing the car into park Jack sighs and turns to face you, “y/n, this is my home away from home,”

You look straight ahead at the brick arena in front of you, “wow,” you say in amazement, partially in shock that Jack is able to compete in his greatest passion at the highest level for his age.

The rest of the night you and Jack find yourselves talking about everything and anything: your childhoods, the defining moments of your life, sharing your favorite jokes, and talking about your life goals. As the night progressed you no longer thought of Jack as a cocky 17 year old who was immensely talented and had the whole world at his fingertips, and Jack on the other hand was growing more and more fond of you, desperate for any excuse to spend time with you in the near future.

When Jack dropped you off at night, he got out of his car to walk you to your front door, “Thanks again for showing me around Jack, I really appreciate it,”

Jack shoves his hands in his pocket, not really sure what he was supposed to do, “Don’t even worry about it, I liked it,”

You raise your eyebrow, holding back a laugh, “I like driving, especially at night, it’s relaxing, and I guess it was nice to talk to you too…” He stammers, his voice trailing off at the end.

“Goodnight Jack,” you laugh walking into the dark house before you, reliving the night all over again in your head.

~*~

A brisk and bitter breeze filled the outside air as early November snows began to dust the floors of Michigan. A new Friday night ritual you found yourself a part of was lounging in the Hughes’s living room with some of his teammates, often having to remind the boys to stop acting like five year olds. 

Tonight in particular, it was just a small group of you, the boys sprawled across the floor watching youtube videos on Alex’s phone and laughing every now and then. You’re laying on the couch, your head resting on Jack’s thigh, one of his hands playing with your hair the other intertwined with yours, as you try to convince the boys that you should make cookies together.

“Y/n, i love you” Luke halts, growing red in the face, “like a sister, y’know, but I’m gonna burn the entire neighborhood down if I bake cookies,”

The boys snicker at Luke, “you love her lukey?” Alex coos

“No no no, like a sister, dude,” Trev adds, slapping his knee as he leans back, loud laughs escaping his mouth.

“Two brothers competing for the same girl?” Alex continues the banter,

“Plymouth was getting a little boring turcs, we needed a scandal to come from somewhere” Trevor laughs again.

Luke buries his face in a throw pillow, “I had a good point, I would burn the house down,”

Jack chuckles, twisting a strand of your hair around his finger and watching as it falls, “yeah, let’s do it”

Pat shrugs, “I’m still here, I can help too”

“Do you think in victorian eras they used flour as baby powder?” Jack asks while scooping heaping spoonfuls of flour into the mixing bowl.

“That’s a good point,” Patty mentions, working on melting the butter, “y/n am i doing this right?”

“Yes, and Jack stop putting so much flour, they’re not going to turn out,”

Jack laughs, “you never answered the question. I think this could be great baby powder, it has the right consistency”

You laugh, “Why don’t you test it out?”

Jack looks at you blankly before continuing to put way too much flour into the bowl and without any warning he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to his torso.

“Jacky, what are you doing?” 

You hear him try and stifle some giggles as his hands slowly move closer to your face. You try to escape his firm hold on you, only it’s too late and his hands are smearing flour across your face.

You lean forward and grab an egg from the counter, turning around to face Jack.

“y/n no, please no. I’m having a good hair day and I don’t want a dead baby chicken on me,”

You look at him confused at his logic before cracking the egg above his head. Jack pretends to be mad, but it’s short lived since he can’t help the grin that covers his face.

“OW!” Pat’s scream tears the two of you apart from each other,

“You okay patty?” you ask, walking over to where he was melting butter on the stove.

“The pan is hot, I didn’t know it would be.”

Jack laughs at him, “dumbass, of course the pan is gonna be hot”

Pat glares at his brunette teammate, “well if you two weren’t so lovey dovey you would have heard my questions,” he says before leaving the kitchen.

A light blush dusts Jack’s cheeks at his teammates words, “We’re just friends Pat,” 

“You keep telling yourself that Rowdie,” Luke smiles as he comes into the kitchen, “are the cookies done yet? I’m hungry.”

~*~

It was the first game of the new year and Jack had been begging you to come to one of his games for months now. You kept using school as an excuse, but you were technically still on winter break, so you were out of excuses. Jack had dropped off a sweatshirt of his, your favorite, for you to wear tonight, as if you didn’t already have a growing collection in your closet.

You slip into the navy blue sweatshirt, the USA Hockey logo adorned on the front, Jack’s number on the back underneath his name. You loved when he wore this one, he took so much pride in playing for the ntdp and you just loved to see him happy. 

At the rink you quickly find the other friends and girlfriends, glad you wouldn’t have to sit alone. 

Fran sees you and immediately she’s beaming and waving you over, “Hey girl, new sweatshirt for the collection?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at the end.

You blush, “Guess he thought I needed another one”

The boys are already out on the ice warming up, and your eyes are scanning the arena looking for the one and only. You can’t help the butterflies that start racing across your tummy when you finally spot him; he’s by the bench, his helmet off, grabbing a drink of water. You notice he’s also scanning the stands, and his eyes land on you, his eyes lighting up as he smiles goofily up at you.

You feel your breath hitch in your throat, a deep red overtaking your face, “and you say he doesn’t like you,” sydney laughs

You regain your composure, “we’re just friends, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that,” 

The girls have amused looks on their face, but change the subject anyway. 

It’s a minute left in the third period, and the game is tied 4-4. Suddenly Jack is off on a break away, one v. one with an opposing defender, and he manages to sneak a goal in making it 5-4. Jack’s teammates all run up and jump on top of him, celebrating a victory. Once Jack is free of the excited teenagers he looks back up towards your spot in the arena, and points right at you, smiling widely.

“We’re just friends,” Fran says, mimicking your voice.

You and the group are standing out in the lobby of the arena, waiting for the boys to come out before you all probably go and get food since they were always starving after a game. You see Jack emerge from the locker room, running his hand through his still wet hair. He looks up to see you running towards him and holds his arms open for you to jump into. He holds you close as your arms wrap around his neck, “hey you,” he mumbles into your neck.

You smile as he puts you back down, his one arm still around your waist, “you played really well Jacky,”

“That goal was all for you,”

You hear some fake gagging noises from the guys as the girls all laugh, the only exception being Fran and Alex who are looking at their best friends expectantly.

“So are you going to admit it?” Alex presses

“Admit what? That I played well?”

Fran rolls her eyes, “that you love y/n”

Jack’s cheeks turn red, as do yours, as Fran adds, “and that y/n loves you,”

“And that you’re not just friends,” Trev chimes in

“And haven’t been since September,” Luke chirps.

Your friends all head out to the parking lot, bickering about where they want to go eat, and it’s just you and Jack left in the arena.

“Jack, I don’t actually-”

“I love you, like a lot” Jack cuts you off, his eyes staring at the scuff marks that cover the linoleum tiles.

You’re taken aback, you never for one second actually thought that the boy who had become your best friend, the boy you fell deeply in love with despite all your efforts to fight the feelings, felt the same way.

“You love me?”

Jack looks up, his ocean blue eyes meeting yours, “Of course I do y/n, how could I not?”

It feels like time stops as Jack’s pulling you closer to him, his arms fitting so comfortably around your waist, and everything just feels right. He leans down and gently presses his lips against yours, and in that moment you couldn’t possibly ask for a better fairy tale ending to your senior year.

“What do you say, should we make this official?”

~*~

“With the first pick overall, the New Jersey Devils are proud to select from the U.S. program, Jack Hughes,” 

The entire night was a blur, Jack was ecstatic, finally getting the opportunity to live out his childhood dreams and you couldn’t be any happier for your boyfriend of the last six months. You had gone out to dinner with the Hughes family, and some of his old teammates that also got drafted, you and Jack being inseparable the entire night. It was just like old times, only that it was probably the last time the crew would ever fully be together for a long time. It was bittersweet, but as you learned almost a year ago in August, new beginnings can lead to good things, and you knew these boys were going places.

It was late that night, and you and Jack found yourselves in his hotel room, him still in his suit, you sporting his jersey as you’re snuggled up in his bed. 

“Looks like I’m gonna have to get you some devils gear, huh?”

You smile, “looks like it,”

He presses a long, gentle kiss to the top of your head, pulling you impossibly closer to him, “I’m not going anywhere y/n. I know I’ll be in Jersey and you’re going off to school, but I’m not leaving you, I can’t lose you.”

You smile, leaning your head back to press a kiss to his jaw, “I know Jack, I know,”

“You’re my everything,”

You blush, knowing in your heart that you found the one you want to be with forever, “I love you Jack Rowden, so so much,”

[my-brothers-corrupted]

Book Four - Part 8

Red's made the decision to sneak away and take Dok and Blue to the closest hospital, but Dapper and Trick are too closely-watched to come with, and end up facing new dangers back at home.

Tws for illness, hospitalization, mild gore (infected wound), kidnapping, violence, and aggressive reaction to being triggered.

Part 8 - The Invasion

bupine asked: you're going to the hospital? without you know who's knowledge? is that... safe?

“Nope,” says Red.

He scoops Blue into his arms. His twin barely stirs.

“Come on, Dok-Dok, stop staring and get moving.”

“Trick…”

“Isn’t coming with us. You know that. Go.”

Dok gets shakily to his feet and moves towards the stairs, scooping a camera to his chest for comfort and glancing back at Red. But Dok is trained to obey Red even in the old days - and now, it’s like some new surety has come over his oldest brother.

“Red, are you… are you sure, are you…?”

“Go, Dok. Quickly now.”

nikkilbook asked: Oh, good man, Jackie.

“Watch for me. He’s distracted by Dapper for now, but if he notices he’ll come get us.”

bupine asked: who are you taking, then?

This, at least, makes Red hesitate, sending a flash of pain through his face. He turns away from you and begins moving up the stairs.

“Just these three. This isn’t about escape, right now, not yet. But I think Dok and Blue could die if I don’t get them out of here. Today. If we have to come back, then we have to come back, but I can’t just stay here and wait for the morning that Blue doesn’t wake up.”

Red is nervous. You can see it in the thrumming of his heart, fierce enough to make the inside of his palm pulse in time. He rocks endlessly.

bupine asked: won't he kill you for this, red? is there anything we can do to help?

“I thought he might, maybe, but… I don’t know, he’s my…”

Red grits his teeth. He has to stop thinking of Anti as family as if that means anything. Anti was the one who told him it doesn’t - now it’s time for Jackie to start believing him.

“Would it be better to wait? Did he say he’d kill Dok soon? I don’t want to leave the others behind if you think they’re in trouble too. I don’t know. I’m just scared. Seems I always am. Maybe I just feel like I need to act on it.”

bupine asked: trick was given two days to take the necklaces off dok, red. otherwise anti will kill dok. he threatened your little brother. we saw the whole thing. dok's in a lot of danger.

Ro closes his eyes. He wants to be angry like when he squeezed Jack, but the anger’s gone to sleep, and now he’s just afraid - and determined, too.

“Okay,” he mumbles. “Thank you for telling me. I - let’s go before I change my mind. If we get caught, I hope it’s me he comes after instead of them.”

“And the monster in the woods?” whispers Blue.

Red blinks, smiling down at him. “I didn’t realize you were awake.”

“I’m dizzy even when I’m lying down…”

Red clutches him to his chest. “Don’t worry about the monster. I’ll… I’ll handle it. Okay? Just rest.”

After all, Red was there when Anti made the game. And the monster, he knows, only needs one of them.

bupine asked: red. what are you going to do?

“Well, let’s see whether or not they catch us first, and then we’ll worry about that. What, you think I know what I’m going to do? You think I got a brain somewhere in this skull? Please.”

He grins, but only for a moment.

“Come on, let’s go.”

nikkilbook asked: We’ll be your eyes and your audience, I promise you that.

“Some things don’t change,” answers Ro, checking that a camera is clipped to his sweatshirt. “Nothing much is steady in my life, but some things don’t change.”

He moves up the stairs like Blue’s weight doesn’t mean anything to him. He’ll be exhausted soon enough, but he won’t put him down.

“Hey,” comes a nervous little voice. “Is he doing better? You want enchiladas, Hoodie? Where’d Dok go?”

Red is paralyzed at the top of the stairs. Trick steps closer, checking over Blue, trying to keep his smile up, though Red can see that his little brother is just as close to breaking from the stress as he is.

“Uh,” says Red.

He is not a good liar.

bupine asked: i don't know if it's a good idea to give yourself up to dark, red. especially not if they'll give you back to anti after. it could be even worse if they won't. you can't really be ready to sacrifice yourself with those risks?

“I guess… better the devil you know,” admits Red reluctantly, glancing at the stairs.

“What?” asks Trick.

“Oh. Nothing. Um.”

“Trick,” says a small voice.

Trick turns to his twin. Dok stands behind him, his hands held in front of him, his eyes wide.

“Hey! You snapped out of it a little! There’s my guy.”

Trick wraps his brother in a hug, pressing their heads fondly together. “Wanna come get some dinner?”

“Can you go dish me some up?” asks Dok frailly. “And I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.” Trick kisses his hair. “Sure thing. I’ll get you some more coffee too and we can just hang out all night.”

Dok touches his cheek as he pulls away. Ro recognizes the look in his eyes - like Dapper when he needs something. Puppy dog.

“Thanks for looking after me.”

“I always will,” swears Trick, turning back to smile at him as he goes. “You know I got your back. No matter what.”

He returns to the kitchen. Red looks at Dok.

Dok stares at the floor.

bupine asked: dok, are you alright?

“Let’s go if we’re going,” mutters Dok, stalking towards the front door.

Anonymous asked: Red, what's your plan, if you don't mind saying? What's happening next?

“Don’t know. Let’s get out to the main road and flag down a car. Somebody has to take us if they see how ill Blue is - or I’ll fuck them up if they try to hurt us and carry him as far as I need to. I’ve killed men for less. We’ll go quiet through the forest if we can. I know the path since we drove in here. That blue and red thing doesn’t have cameras like Anti does, so I don’t know how it would see us unless it got lucky. We’ll hide at the hospital until Anti comes to get us or we can come back to look after the others. Dap and Trick will be okay for a few days… I hope. I don’t think Anti will hurt them soon. But Blue needs a hospital. They will be able to do something to help, right, Dok?”

“Sh, keep your voice down,” pleads Dok, scared of being found by both Anti and Trick. “Yes, I hope. At least they might tell us what’s going on. I worry that Blue’s body and Anti’s body are both having the same problem - while Anti’s causes him strange symptoms and the blood he coughs up, I think it’s because, metaphysically, he’s housing a magic that isn’t his. Blue’s reacting in a human way - his body is used to having the magic present. Now that it isn’t, it’s causing him problems. Like his cells don’t know if this is him or not.”

Red shifts on his feet. “You make it sound like cancer or something.”

“More like an autoimmune disease, theoretically. Let’s just get him to a hospital.”

Anonymous asked: We'll watch over Dap and Trick, yeah. Are you gonna go now?

There’s a slight click as a door opens upstairs. All three of them go dead still, eyes wide.

Pause.

“Yeah, we’re going now,” says Red, and he yanks open the door, and he’s gone.

Anonymous asked: dok, you okay?

“No,” says Dok.

He follows after his brothers. That torn white coat swishes behind him.

“But we’re working on it. I’m not standing still today.”

Anonymous asked: blue, how are you doing? are you present right now?

“I’m feeling much better than earlier. Still super dizzy. But Red doesn’t have to carry me.”

“Tell that to Red,” Red answers shortly, not letting him go. They sneak along the path down the road, the trees whispering on wind and flickering with dappled evening light.

Anonymous asked: red, you alright? and do you know how much farther it is?

“Oh, it is a ways,” says Red, drawing the word out. “A waysssss. Couple miles.”

“Ugh,” grumbles Dok, trailing after him. Red turns to smirk at him. Dok is in a t-shirt with holes and somebody’s football shorts. His shoes are old sneakers, worn down thin enough that the rocks and sticks cut at his feet.

“You’ve had worse, Deutsch.”

“You know that thing is going to catch us, right, Red?”

Red doesn’t answer. Dok shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking anxiously at stones. “At least the cameras said they have doctor.”

Anonymous asked: Well. Guess we're in a game of Truth or Dare now.

“A game of Truth or Dare?”

A low voice slides over the image of Red, Blue, and Dok making their way down the path.

“I’d love to play. I love games. And you and I - aren’t we always playing games? With mirrors, with smoke?”

“With bodies, with hearts?” offers Dark’s echo, a soft hiss behind their words. Their viscous colors drip down your screen and saturate the image in blue and red.

“Look,” they muse. “They stepped outside of the monster’s protection. Easy to get into cameras then, isn’t it, Gigi?”

The gleam of square glasses and a flash of bright blue.

“Seems a little trio of your pets have slipped away… leaving another two behind. How… enticing.”

“How delicious.”

“I gave you a chance to send one of them out to me. You didn’t listen. It’s just how you work, I suppose. You never listen to me until it’s too late, do you? But never mind… I’ll give you one more chance. Out of respect for the games we play over and over and over again…”

Dark appears on your screen, in a wash of black and white. Long black hair curls like ribbon down their spine. Their white and beautiful face is rotting.

“When we act tonight, where will we go, old friend? I’ll let you choose. Either way, I act… I am not standing still. Decide.”

.

Dark should attack the house and try to take Dapper or Trick.

Oct. 15 2020

9 notes

.

Dark should take the forest path and try to take Dok, Blue, or Red.

Oct. 15 2020

5 notes

.

nikkilbook asked: Have you ever actually said what it is you’re planning on doing with them if you take them? Because after Poker Night, I’m not inclined to plau games I don’t understand.

“The illusion of choice is the only thing that keeps you playing,” answers Dark in a sneer that shows a flash of white bone. “And even if we were playing a game you did understand… well, old friend. You were never very good at bluffing.”

Anonymous asked: Well if your mind is made up, I guess circumstances are the best they can be for something my like this. Good luck, keep your eyes open. And if you come across Dark again, I think your best chance might be Dok and whatever "immunity" (for lack of a better word) he has that prevented him from being manipulated. Stick together please!

“We are together, aren’t we, bud?” Ro turns back to look at his little brother.

“Hey,” says Dok. “What’s that you were calling me earlier?”

Ro blinks and flushes ruddy. “Oh. Schneep?”

“Schneep,” repeats Dok.

They trail down the forest path together. Butterflies and the cool of the creek. Dok plays with the ravens on his breast - his immunity from Dark’s manipulation.

“Yes,” he says. “We’re together. I’m with you.”

Anonymous asked: Dok, Ro, if Dark comes for you, do you think you could make some kind of deal with them to get Anti's blood to possibly give Blue his magic back like it said in that book? Just a thought.

Dok looks up, blinking.

“Mmh. Maybe? Do they love Anti? Are they mean? What do I have that they would want? It has to be enough for them to kill Anti. Or that’s what it sounded like in the story about the girl and the samurai.”

Red glances back at his brother, frowning. “Dark can’t kill Anti,” he says.

“Oh?”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

Ro purses his mouth. “Just trust me. I been talking to some people.”

Dok does trust him. Soon they will reach the road. Last chance to turn back.

.

Henrik is asleep on his shoulder.

Or Schneep. Schneep. He repeats the name in his head. Uses it as anchor to something he doesn’t remember. Anything to hold him down in the middle of this chaos.

He supposes it’s quiet enough in here for Schneep to sleep, so that’s something, but the buzzing of the lights is killing him, and all he can think about - all he can think about - is his twin alone as they take blood tests and ask him question after question about his symptoms and shove him into machines for tests. He can see his fragile little body now. A long sigh escapes him. He tries to sit still so Schneep can rest.

The radio is playing above him. At least that can help distract him, maybe, a little. He thinks this is Ariana Grande. He can’t tell. It’s one of those stations that just plays anything anyone has ever liked.

“Mh, mh, nein,” croaks Schneep, tugging at his sleeve in his sleep. “Mhhhh, hurts.”

Ro tries to ignore the glances from the old woman sitting four chairs away, biting down on his lip. Anything to distract him. Anything to distract him. Lately all his thoughts are miserable and upsetting, and he misses Max and the feeling of safety. He just wants them all to be okay.

The radio switches songs. Ro runs his hands over the soft belly of his sweatshirt. His blue sweatshirt. Max bought it for him. He loves this sweatshirt. Max should be here. He would be holding his hand right now and calling him Jackie. And Blue would be okay, and everything would be -

“Are you okay?” mumbles Schneep, rubbing at his eyes. Ro realizes his leg is bouncing so hard it shakes his whole body.

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” says Schneep. “I’m just glad to wake up away from that house. Where Anti can’t kill me in my sleep.”

Ro looks over at him as Kelly Clarkson plays on the radio. His little brother’s body is stiff beneath his arm.

“Do you need to see a doctor too, Dok? Are you hurting?”

“I was going to ask you that. Anti beat you last night.”

“One bad cut is all. You’ve always taken care of my cuts. I’m okay.”

“Tough,” says Henrik softly, closing his eyes again.

Ro grins at him. “If I’m tough, you’re unbreakable. I don’t think I’m ready to know what Anti’s been doing to you in that room, Dok. I’m sorry I didn’t - ”

“Don’t,” Schneep interrupts him quietly. “Don’t… don’t apologize. We have to stop feeling like anything he does to us is under our control. We just have to keep trying to get away.”

It’s hard for Ro to concentrate on what he’s saying when the radio host is reading out local birthdays at the exact same time, but he tries.

“Tell you what,” says Henrik. “Why don’t you get your laptop out? You can code a little, right? Don’t need internet for that, so Anti can’t see, I think. You can just get lost in it like you do.”

“Too lost in it,” chuckles Ro. “It’ll be all I can think about. I love programming. But I need to be here for Blue if he needs - ”

The song on the radio changes.

Ro feels every muscle in his body go tight.

He feels his blood stiffen and his heart scream. He feels his fingernails dig into his palms. He feels his pulse pounding in his throat so hard it’s choking him.

“Red?” says Dok, touching his shoulder. “Hoodie?”

And then Red hears himself screaming.

“Turn this song off! Turn this song off! Turn this fucking song off! Stop it stop it stop it! Leave us alone leave us alone! Turn this fucking song off!”

The old woman gives a cry as he tears a chair across the room and screams aloud, stalking towards the receptionist, who grabs, wide-eyed, at the telephone next to her hand. “Red, Red!” cries Dok. “Stop it!”

“Stop stop stop!” screeches Ro, grabbing the edge of the desk. “Don’t play that! Don’t sing that! You can’t wear my brother’s body like that! You can’t hurt my little brothers! I don’t want to hurt him, I don’t want to go, I don’t want to be good, don’t play that song, turn it off turn it off turn it off!”

The receptionist manages to slam the right button on her computer at last and the loudspeakers go silent.

Red is holding a broken pen in his hand, the red ink leaking into his palms. He stands shuddering, staring straight ahead, tasting vomit in the back of his throat.

“Red, Red,” calls Dok, and it’s his little brother who’s shaking now, Dok’s whole chest trembling and heaving with the fear that when Red lashes out, he will lash out at him, just like he used to when he still let Anti direct his violence and his breakdowns. But he doesn’t want to be scared of him anymore. Ro knows because he feels Dok’s hand land on his shoulder and begin dragging him towards the door.

Red sobs with terror and confusion. He doesn’t know how that one song can inspire a reaction like that in him. It isn’t like his meltdowns. He knows the difference. There was no sensation build-up, no gradual overwhelming or sudden influx of stimuli. There was just a song change, and the song made him afraid.

“What’s wrong with me?” he screams, as Dok yanks him out towards the backalley of the hospital before security can come and start asking questions. “Why do I always feel like this? Why can’t I stop having nightmares? I’m scared of everything now. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t Jackie. Jackie wasn’t scared of anything. Everybody says he was a hero. I can’t be that person anymore. Just a coward.”

He sinks onto his knees, rocking himself like he always rocks himself to go to sleep, gripping uselessly at the knee of Dok’s pants. Dok sinks onto the ground beside him. Ro can feel him trembling.

Neither of them have any answers anymore.

In his head, Ro can still hear Anti singing that song in the stolen car on a road in Peru, laughing in Blue’s body while the rest of them broke into pieces around him.

“Take me home, country roads, to the place I belong! West Virginia, mountain mama! Hahaha, can you believe they’re playing this?”

He cries into his right hand and strikes cold concrete with the left, leaving red ink stains across the earth. He hurt Dapper that day. He abandoned Blue. He was torn away from his family while the jungle burned around him.

And he still wanted to go back to Anti.

“We have to go,” he sobs. “We have to go. Why have I defended him for so long? When did we let this become normal? When did I let him make me that cruel and that obedient? I was like a kicked dog for him. I hit the rest of you for him. How did I ever justify any of this?”

He hears Dok panting besides him. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or just scared. He’s sorry for lashing out. He’s so sick of being someone who causes them pain.

“Fuck, I love you,” he cries, digging his fingers into the filthy concrete, feeling the dirt build beneath the white crescents of his nails. “He threatened to kill you. He stole Blue’s magic. He beat Dapper til he passed out yesterday. I have to make this stop.”

“Oh, please,” begs Dok. “Yes. Red, protect me.”

Ro looks up at the sound of his voice breaking and sees Dok staring back at him, his eyes hot with tears and his face contorted. Dok lunges forward to press himself against his chest, shaking there between his arms.

For weeks now, it’s just been him and Blue, and he’s had to be the strong one. Anti’s hatred has come down on his head in steel and blood, and he has taken it, because the others needed him to and Dapper asked him not to stop fighting. He has taken it because he saw the fear in his eyes and knew that he was the one who had to do something about it, and Blue has been too ill to help him.

“I need you,” whispers Henrik. “Ro, I need you. Don’t make me fight on my own any longer. Protect me. Protect me.”

And this - this. Those words? That plea?

Ro can say what he wants about Jackie being dead, but I tell you now, reader -

Jackie breathes at the sound of those words.

Jackie breathes.

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Okay. I promise.”

“You promise, you promise, you promise,” chants Henrik, trembling against his ribs. “Don’t let him change your mind again like he always does. Don’t let him make you forgive him. Never again. Never, never, never.”

“Never,” repeats Jackie. “Never. Okay. When we go home… when we go back to that house to get the others and go, no more forgiving.”

“No more forgiving,” prays Henrik. “No more. Protect me.”

The air outside the hospital is warm and clear. The alley opens towards the light of the city around them. Wind stirs his hair, and yes, yes, yes - Jackie breathes.

.

“Don’t cry,” says Anti.

Trick stands shaking in the doorway of the house, clinging to the gun in his hand.

“Anti,” he chokes. “He was here one moment, and then he was just - they all were, they just - ”

“You didn’t see Dark?”

“No, not for a second. I don’t know how they got in the house.”

Anti stares out at the forest. His eyes are black to take in the dying light.

“Something’s wrong,” you hear him mumble.

“What, yeah, that my siblings just disappeared?” sobs Trick, sinking down on the porch, tears welling in his eyes at the thought of Dok taken away from him again, again, again.

“Not like Dark to take anything quietly,” Anti whispers to himself, stepping farther away from the home. “They would have made an entrance. They would have mocked me. That was always half the fun - the show we put on for each other. They would have thrown it in my face that they stole one of mine. And Red’s firewall is still standing - so how did Gigi shut down my cameras?”

The crickets in the forest are all that answers him. He steps back, uneasy.

“Don’t cry,” he repeats. “Dark wouldn’t hurt something that belongs to me.”

“Anti, can’t you go make them give them back?”

“Just calm down while I try to figure this out,” mutters Anti, pulling him back into the house. “Go hide upstairs with your brother.”

Trick shudders out a sigh, casting his eyes towards the forest one more time, like Dok will come racing back to him. Anti pushes his spine gently and he heads up the stairs, shaky and frightened.

“Where’d you go?” whispers Anti towards the forest, a hand faltering to rest over his heart. “Don’t do this to me again.”

When they’re here, when they’re close, or at least when he knows that they’re close - that’s when he knows nothing will hurt him.

He thought that Dark knew that too.

“Something’s not right,” he repeats to himself, backing into his house, and his pitch eyes flicker up to you.

“Keep watch,” he spits. “Since you let them slip away earlier. Something is wrong.”

Anonymous asked: trick, we're going to do our best to take care of you and your brothers, okay? we'll do our best to keep you all as safe as possible.

He glances over before racing to the big window upstairs and staring out at the woods. He bites his lip and turns back to you, shrugging, but he’s trying to keep it together and he’s scared that if he opens his mouth he’ll cry. He hates being a crybaby, but it seems like the longer his life goes on the more things upset him. Lately, he can’t even remember why half the time.

But at least you’ve got his back.

He flops down on the bed with a sigh and only then notices that the lump in the bed is actually his little brother tucked in on himself and covered entirely in blankets. This, at least, startles Trick out of his fear for a second. He plucks the covers away from Dapper’s face and grins quietly at him, but Dapper doesn’t respond even when the blankets come away.

“Hey,” whispers Trick, shaking his shoulder. “Hey, maybe you could go back and stop Dark from getting them?”

Dapper’s fingers rise to pluck at Trick’s hand for a second, but he doesn’t open his eyes, his face scrunching up as though in pain.

“Dapper?”

“Leave me alone,” signs his little brother, torn between irritation and exhaustion. “Lemme sleep, C.”

He burrows down deeper into his blankets. His eyes are shadowed in purple, his cheek stained in brown and yellow bruises.

“Hey, hold on, Dap, you don’t look so - whoa.”

“Lemme alone.”

“Dapper, you’re burning up.”

Anonymous asked: You really think we'd tell you anything is something happened? Sure, we'll keep watch on the last two you have but certainly not because you asked for it. Trick probably need someone to tell him it'll be okay... and I doubt you'd be of any help for him.

“Please,” growls Anti, eyes narrowing like a cat’s. “Jack made him a sycophant even worse than the rest because he needed someone to be his little substitute. His tortured protagonist. I can make him think anything I want to. I could light him on fire and tell him it was all going to be alright, and you know what? He would let himself fucking burn.”

Anonymous asked: hey, dap, jamie, you doing alright? you okay? we're worried about you.

“I just want to go to bed,” he says, and now his hands are whining, slow, languidly exhausted signs falling off his fingers. “Bed, bed, bed.”

“I need to check your fever.”

“No, no, no.”

“Look, I get you’re tired, but - ”

“I’m not tired, I’m just - just - just let me sleep! I’m sick of being awake and my side is killing me…”

Trick sits on the bed beside him and pulls his shirt up, finding his ribs colored a stunning variety of watercolor hues and deep black. “Shit, man. How’d this happen?”

“You don’t even remember what I say the day after,” complains Dapper, eyes flickering. Trick touches his face again and feels sweat at his hairline. “Your brain is all scattered and he washes away anything that hurts. You’re not my C.”

Trick rolls his eyes. Dok was always better at understanding him when he was in one of his weird moods. “It’s Trick, Dap. I’ll get you some water and a cold washcloth. You’ll be okay.”

He gets up and then flinches and pauses at the window.

“Thought I saw something moving,” he mumbles. “Hey, what’s the gameplan if someone does try to get in the house? Red’s… not here like he usually is.”

Bad things happen when Red is gone, that’s what Trick has discovered. Even before Blue was apart of their family, he remembers that Red was gone the day Dok got shot and the day that Dapper snapped.

Anti protects them when the chips are down, tearing their enemies apart with dog’s teeth and knife in hand, but Red is their family’s security. Trick’s fingers play with his handgun as he gets a cup of water for his little brother.

Anonymous asked: You're not helping your situation at all by bragging about how deep you've burrowed yourself in Trick's head. Why don't you go search for Dark instead? Maybe they'll be of actual help, or perhaps you'll end up bloodied and beaten in the forest

“Both options are far more fun than talking to the lot of you,” snips Anti, deciding to be petty tonight. “But I don’t want to give them an opportunity to send their little soldiers into the house. I guess I can transport back pretty fast as soon as I see something on the cameras, though…”

He tilts his head back and forth, thinking, and moves back into the lawn, looking out at the forest.

“Really, I hope they haven’t just scooped them up and run. I was really hoping Dark would make me stop feeling so - hmph.”

He seems to remember that he’s irritated with you and cuts himself off, flipping his knife as he steps towards the forest.

“Hey! That was lame if you just grabbed them, Pangur Dubh, I hope you know. No panache at all, you ancient bastard.”

Anonymous asked: Uhh, Trick, how confident are you in your ability to keep dapper safe? I feel like there's some high possibility something will happen tonight

Trick sits against the head of the bed, Dapper resting beside his thigh, a washcloth draped over his forehead and eyes. He clutches his gun on the other side of his hip, his free hand resting on his brother’s head, his clear blue eyes fixed on the doorway.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “But if anyone tries to come through that door who shouldn’t…”

He fingers the safety, letting out a slow breath through his teeth.

“They already took the others,” he whispers. “We can’t let them get us too. I hope they’re all okay. Blue’s not well and - ”

Was that creaking on the floor downstairs? His fingers tighten against Dapper’s hair, his heart picking up in his chest.

“Scared?” asks Dapper distantly, but for once Trick interprets the motion of his hands as earnest rather than teasing.

“No, bud, no, it’s okay.”

“Take you somewhere nice,” signs Dapper, pushing his washcloth aside to look up at him.

“Your eyes are all glazed. How are you feeling?”

“Take you back somewhere nice…”

“What?”

“To a time when you were happy?”

“Don’t talk about time travel right now, dude. Look how sick you are. How’d you get a fever? You never leave the house.”

“My stitches are hot…”

Trick frowns, reaching for his wrist, last bandaged two days ago, but Dapper pulls it away to grab at his clock.

“Take you somewhere nice,” he repeats dreamily.

“Dapper, you don’t have to - Dap!”

There’s a flash of silver in his little brother’s eyes.

“Hey, don’t try anything right now, you - Dapper? Hey!”

Instead of time traveling, Trick sees Dapper’s face contort with pain and confusion a second time, and for a second not only are his eyes silver, but his hair is a vivid teal and his clothes change. Trick yelps in alarm - but a second later Dapper is back to how he was, only with fresh distress in his eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” chants Trick, touching his shoulder. “Don’t try anything again, Carver, dammit. You scared me.”

“Can’t… can’t think straight…”

“Well, that’s why you can’t time skip or anything like that. Lie still, okay? Just lie still and we’ll be okay. Shit.”

Red and Blue gone. No Dok to watch his back. Dapper out of commission. Another long, calming breath fills his lungs, but his fingers tremble.

Anonymous asked: Trick, don't tell me you've already forgotten what Anti did to them... Dapper is bruised and beaten because of Anti. Because he was angry and violent and he wanted to hurt them. No other reason. Don't let him play with your head like he always brags about doing.

“Oh,” says Trick, stopping short. “Oh, yeah. He did go off, didn’t he? Can’t believe Dapper would crack a rib just from getting tossed around. I need to talk to Dok about that. Not normal.”

“You do think for yourself a little bit still,” signs Dapper wearily, though he looks pleased.

scunneredzombie asked: Anti left Dapper sitting in a filthy bathtub an entire night with open wounds. It's entirely possible he has a blood infection, Trick. That would explain his fever and the wound being “hot”

“Fuck, haven’t you been cleaning it?”

“I don’t know… chained up. Dok cleans me up when I’m hurt.”

“Fuck, fuck. Dapper, don’t you have, like, teeth marks in your wrist?”

Trick pulls Dapper’s wrist out of its bandaging. Dark’s bites ooze something sticky, the stitches torn into bits of thread. The heat of the wound is matched a moment later by a stinging, putrid smell.

Dapper fades dizzily against his pillows, panting a little.

Trick curses to himself yet again, pushing at his hair. “I’ll get antiseptic and floss.”

“Don’t! I don’t want you to go. I don’t want Dark to come take me away.”

“Anti said Dark can’t come into the house.”

“Dark has soldiers. Don’t go. There’s - ”

A noise on the stairs cuts them both off. That, Trick knows immediately, was no creaking of the house.

Downstairs, a hand wraps around one of the cameras and raises you up - and then crushes the camera in one motion, leaving one of your viewpoints black.

“If I can’t hack it,” comes a cool voice. “I’ll just deal with it the old-fashioned way.”

Dark’s soldiers are here.

And in the forest, in the trees -

“Good evening, little monster.”

“Dark,” whispers Anti, and a white smile cuts across his face. “Hi.”

Anonymous asked: Hey, Trick, we're here, okay? I know we've had our differences, but we don't want any of you hurt. We can keep an eye out from the cams. We've got your back.

Trick gets Dapper up first.

Slinging his little brother’s arm over his shoulder, he pulls him from the bed despite Dapper’s tongue clicking in miserable protest and leads him over to the walk-in closet, pulling open the door and setting him down in the corner, piling clothes up around him. Dapper looks up at him with exhausted, fevering eyes, rubbing at a reddened nose.

“Stay quiet,��� whispers Trick. “I’ll guard.”

Dapper reaches for him, but Trick just presses a camera into his hands.

“It’s going to be okay. They said they’ll watch out for us. They’re watching the cameras. Nothing will sneak up on us. Just stay quiet.”

Dapper takes the camera. Trick closes the door behind him and creeps to the door of the room, standing against the wall, hidden from view, Dok’s handgun clutched between his fingers.

Anonymous asked: trick, dap, stay together, okay? we're gonna try to protect you, but i don't know how successful we'll be. try to stay calm though, okay? and hold on to each other if anything happens, it'll be grounding.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” laughs Trick in a frantic, whispered giggle. “I didn’t see you say to stay with him. But I’ll stay up here in this room. Not going anywhere.”

He lets out a low breath, closing his eyes for a second.

“Not letting anything happen to him.”

It’s an odd situation for Trick. It’s rare for him to be made the protector. He supposes he’s always been Dapper’s older brother, but it’s never really felt that way - or, at least, not for a long time.

“But I am,” he mumbles. “I am his big brother.”

He steadies himself beside the doorway.

Anonymous asked: dark? what are you doing?

Red eye, blue eye.

Their gaze flickers over to you.

“Don’t look at them,” laughs Anti. “Look at me.”

Anti moves in front of the camera view from the back of the house, and even from several feet away, you can see the way he bounces on his heels, hear the deep purr beneath his voice, feel the heat of his excitement.

“And what would I be looking at then?” asks Dark coolly, broad shoulders shifting as they move slightly forward.

“Guess,” says Anti.

“You smell like a human,” answers Dark.

“You cut me deep, Dubh.”

And Anti rushes forward like a wave on a river, and stands so close to Dark he can feel their breath on his beard - trimmed, now, neater than he usually has it. His hair falls into his eyes, making them look dark and beautiful, fiercely blue no matter how Dark’s shadows encompass him, his skin pale and unblemished. He looks at Dark’s mouth and he smiles, fangs growing from his mouth. Blood trickling from his throat.

Dark stares down at him, unflinching, face blank.

“You know what I am,” says Anti, glancing up into their eyes. “Tell me how you did it, then, Dark.”

“Who told you to call me that?”

“What?” Anti laughs, reaching out to touch Dark’s cheek. “Do you prefer ‘baby?’ Sugar? How’d you snatch up all three of the others without me even noticing?”

Dark looks down at him through black eyelashes, tugging once on their cuffs.

“It was easy,” they offer after a moment.

“Show-off,” teases Anti.

Anonymous asked: For lord's sake Trick... It wasn't "from getting tossed around". Anti kicked and beat him until he was just one giant bruise then left him sitting there with crushed, cracked ribs for an entire night, left him to get infected and even more hurt. You... aren't the man you used to be. You aren't the Trick who cared about his family more than anything. You just think whatever Anti tells you to now.

Trick’s face contorts, biting down on his mouth. “Well, what do you know about it?” he spits breathlessly, turning away. “What do you know about ‘the man I used to be,’ and the things he had to become to survive?”

nikkilbook asked: Heeeey Google, how’s it going. Quick point of order, just out of curiosity, what exactly is your objective here?

“Oh, they know it’s you,” pipes up a mocking, cheerful voice. “That’s cute.”

A low growl sounds from a dark shape moving through the living room, though their footsteps are soundless and measured.

“His primary objective - ”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Is to answer questions. Hey, Gigi, what’s a baby hedgehog called?”

A long silence.

Then, begrudgingly:

“A porcupette.”

“His second objective is to destroy humanity, as I understand it.”

“You included.”

“And his third objective - ”

“Is to prevent discord in the household.”

“Meaning that when Dark tells him to do something…”

Google turns to you.

Brown eyes flash red.

He picks up a plate from the dinner table and hurls it into the camera, shattering a mounted view in the corner. Shards of gleaming white porcelain rain down on raven black hair. He does not pause.

“… he does it.”

Google moves towards the stairs.

“But hey, don’t stress,” his companion tells you, drawing a white hood away from thick black hair drawn back in a ponytail. He flexes his broad hands and you make out the gleam of silver knuckles. “He’s not the one you should worry about.”

nikkilbook asked: And which one are you, friend? I’m flipping through my Rolodex of Markifaces, and if you’re who I think you are, shouldn’t you be gone? Two years gone, to be specific?

“Oh, shit!” he laughs. “Hey, we don’t talk about them! They never existed! That was their dying wish. Shhh. Nah, Annus is gone. Too bad, too.”

Anonymous asked: Silver shepherd????

Brown eyes turn to you, a fond smile on his dark mouth.

“Just call me Shep,” he says. “Good to know anybody still remembers.”

Anonymous asked: Aren’t you suppose to be a super hero? You know... a GOOD guy?

“I’m not supposed to be anything,” he replies, and the smile on his mouth is dark and bitter now, a cold shine in his deep eyes. “Except a fucking joke, maybe.”

Anonymous asked: What are you doing here, Shep? Aren't you supposed to be a hero or something? Or well... a joke of one at least

“Yeah,” he says, showing his teeth. “Real funny, aren’t I?”

A faint laugh falters out of him. His eyes glitter. He both hates and craves you.

“Now shut up. I got work to do. Dark asked for something, so I’ll get it. They can have whatever they want from me. They’re the only reason we all got any home at all. And if we sometimes slick our floors in blood and bury corpses in the woods, well - at least I’m telling my own story these days.”

Anonymous asked: Trick, be safe, you should probably hide with Dap. Dark's soldiers are in the house, they're also destroying the cameras.

“I… no, I won’t. I think if they find me, maybe they’ll think I’m the only one home. Or, um. I mean, I’ll stop them! They won’t take either of us. No, I’m going to guard him, I’m sorry…”

For months, it has been the purpose of his life: to wait at the door with a gun in his hand. He will not be moved.

Anonymous asked: Trick, Dok being tortured every night, Blue dying because Anti stole his magic, and Dapper and Rojo have been hurt horribly. Anti caused all of this. Anti caused this pain, all this suffering, everything you've had to survive, everything that warped and broke you. It was him. And now, even now when half of them are dying, you let him use you to play out fantasies of being in control of Jack. He brags about doing anything he wants to you. Make it stop. You're the only one who can.

He doesn’t remember who Jack is, but the thought of being used to fuel Anti’s fantasies about him gives him the creeps enough that you see him shudder, disturbed. He shakes his head like he can shake the truth off. “Just let me focus, dammit.”

Anonymous asked: the cairn that had to be built because of anti, trickshot. without him, there would have been no need for one. he did this to you. wiped your family from your mind. i'm... so sorry he took so much from you.

“Don’t say that,” spits Trick, a real vitriol consuming his features. “Don’t you dare - Anti has never - Anti doesn’t even know that I have those dreams, about having kids in my arms, Anti doesn’t have anything to do with them, they’re the one part of my life that doesn’t have anything to do with him, don’t - don’t even start that, no.”

Anonymous asked: anti's known you all your life, trick. he's the reason your brothers are hurting. it's legitimately all been him. there was a time when you were all happy and no one was dying or miserable or possessed or being tortured or hurt or panything, you were just brothers who were happy and loved each other. anti took your family. took your memories. manipulated and hurt you all. you're the last one of the brothers to see what he's done to you.

“Stop, stop,” begs Trick, putting his hands over his ears, that gun too close to his head. “That’s not true. You’re just liars! You’ve never liked him! You don’t understand… he’s the one who makes things stop hurting…”

Anonymous asked: Don't you remember in Singapore? Anti slapped you, screamed at Blue that he was happy he killed your partner, and you were "lucky he doesn't kill children" and bragged about them being so deep in hiding that you would never see them again. Anti did this. Anti took them from you.

Trick heaves with a dry sob, shaking his head. “No, no, that was a nightmare. It didn’t really happen.”

His cry draws Dapper’s attention and you see the closet door slip open, blue eyes peering out at him.

“G-go back in there,” gasps Trick. “I’m fine.”

Dapper steps over to him, a blanket around his shoulders, and slides down the wall to sit beside him, putting one hand over his gun and holding it gently against the floor.

Anonymous asked: I'll resign, you need to focus for now. But remember my words Trickshot, Chase. You are being used. He brags about you being malleable, and calls you just his pet. Remember my words, Anti does not love you.Your brothers, Dok, Ro, Blue, Dap. They are what matters. Your true family loves you for who you are, for the real you, the real person Anti has buried deep in there. Anti only loves you because you look like the creator he misses.

“They have more messages for you,” says Dapper.

“Later, okay?” gasps Trick, pulling at his hair, trying to steady himself. “Later, I… later. He loves… he… just let me concentrate.”

Dapper doesn’t say anything more, blinking slowly. He slumps wearily down against the wall. “Okay, Trick. Hey…”

“What?”

“Well, whatever you decide about Anti, the rest of us are pretty damn fond of you.”

Trick gives an exasperated little wheeze of a laugh and touches Dapper’s cheek for a second. “Okay. Thanks. Just rest, little man, you’re starting to go grey.”

Anonymous asked: hey, trick? you have a really strong android and a red-level superhero coming up the stairs. the android, uh, will probably be angry and not very sympathetic? you might be able to reason with the superhero if you find a connection to him. if you have to fight, go for the android first, if you're gonna be diplomatic, focus on the hero. don't give either of them any information, okay?

He covers his mouth with his free hand and tries to steady his gun, but his hands are still shaking, his eyes wet with tears.

“Where?” he signs weakly, trying to peek out towards the stairwell without being seen. Dapper is lying back against the wall, eyes closed.

Anonymous asked: Trick, there's someone in the house. Stay with Dapper, the two of you are stronger together, okay? Don't let them separate you.

There’s someone in the house. There’s someone in the house.

Trick tries to breathe, his free hand resting on Dapper’s shoulder. Don’t let them separate you. His brother is unmoving beneath his palm.

A creak of the floorboards at the bottom of the stairs. Trick aims in the darkness, breathing through his teeth.

Google’s eyes heat the air with a glow of red, just for a moment. Trick can’t see his body at all, just that faint red light, and then it’s gone. His hairs stand up on his arms. There really is someone there. Right there, on the stairs. Silent, silent, but they’re there. Why don’t they breathe? Why don’t they make noise? Are they closer now or farther away? He wants to take a shot, but he wants to stay hidden too.

“Where is Anti?” he chokes.

Anonymous asked: Anti is outside dealing with Dark. Do you want us to try to get him to come back?

“I don’t know what’s going on,” whispers Trick, shadowed as the sun goes down, his eyes wide and his pupils swallowing his irises up. “I don’t know why he thinks this is a game or why he thinks that thing will help us somehow. I’m scared. It’s not a game. I want this to stop.”

And you see, in the darkness of the coming night, another shadow come to stand behind him.

And that shadow rears back -

And slurps very loudly on his martini.

Trick screams aloud. A second later, a gunshot rings out.

“How now!” Wilford protests, staggering back. Blood runs hot and dark from his stomach and Trick screams again. “That, young man, was VERY RUDE. This is my favorite shirt.”

“Anti!” screams Trick.

“Goddammit, Wil,” spits Shep. “What’s the point of sneaking around?”

“Oh, because you were being so quiet, trying to get the camera’s attention. Harumph.”

“Get away from us!” Trick shrieks, writhing. “Dapper, go.”

Dapper curls in on himself, shaking. He isn’t well enough to fight and his head is too fuzzy to be aware of anything but someone who looks like Dark and his brother crying out in fear.

nikkilbook asked: Anti’s busy flirting with Dark in the woods.

“Trick wants me.” Anti turns his attention back to the house, blinking. Dark grabs his wrist and draws him back to their chest.

“I thought you wanted me to look at you,” says Dark.

“Now you’re just playing,” says Anti, pleased. “I know your little boyfriend’s in the house.”

“Well, do you want to go stop him or do you want to talk to me, little monster? I already have three of your other boys.”

“Tell me how you did that! Red would have kicked just about anybody’s ass if they tried to come after him. Who took him? Wil?”

“You’re missing what’s obvious,” answers Dark, tilting their head at him. Anti purrs, eyes flashing as they meet the deep onyx of his gaze. “You should know why they’re not at home right now. I saw. These forests belong to me. But you weren’t watching.”

“You think you’re smarter than me, but you’re soft and you always have been,” grins Anti. “That’s why I’m the one who would have won if we ever got to finish that fight.”

Dark’s eyes flicker. They draw slightly back from Anti, looking at his face.

“What should I call you?” asks Dark.

It’s Anti’s turn to blink, but he recovers himself a second later and laughs, putting a hand on Dark’s shoulder. “You are playing. Good. You can call me a lot of things. I like little monster. When I was just an idea, my creator called me his monster. But I don’t belong to him anymore.”

He runs his hand down Dark’s arm, tilting his head coyly. There is a faint frown on Dark’s mouth.

nikkilbook asked: Shep, what are Dark’s orders? Why do you want the boys?

“Got him, Wil?”

“There’s two here. Hello! How are you today!”

“Get your fucking hands off me!”

“That’s not very nice,” grumbles Wil.

“Dark only needs one, they said.” Silver paces towards the room, grabbing the gun out of Trick’s hand and tossing it aside as Google stands over Dapper, who won’t even look up at him. “And I don’t care why they want him. I think they’re teaching a lesson to someone who tried to challenge them or something. But Dark’s fascinated with anything that’s even close to being a spirit like them, so I’m not surprised they’re interested in whatever the hell is going on here.”

“You and your creepy shadow monster can go eat dirt!”

Wilford is beginning to look truly affronted, his eyebrows shot up comically high. “What a squirmy, angry little squirrel of a man,” he mumbles.

Dapper lashes out without looking and manages to kick Google in the leg. Google doesn’t move. “Which one should we take?”

“We could just take both. Look, they’re little companions,” offers Wilford.

“I don’t care,” says Shep.

“This one is sick,” says Google. “I can feel its raised temperature from here.”

“Well spotted, Gigi. Then take the healthy one.” Wilford lifts Trick up by his shirt.

“Or we take the sick one so Ippy can see him and get him some medicine. His wrist is fucked up and he’s slathered in bruises,” says Shep.

“But the healthy one will be easier for Dark to talk with.”

“Let’s just take both,” says Google.

“That seems cruel.”

“What, we’re just going to lock them up for a while. Who cares? They’re just humans.”

“I’m getting a little bored of this conversation, gentleman,” rumbles Wilford.

“And that, with you, is a dangerous thing,” sighs Shep.

Anonymous asked: Anti... you know there's something off with Dark, right? You can't be that oblivious, without it being on purpose

“Well,” says Anti, with a laugh that comes off as just a little nervous. “We always mess around and stuff. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve tried to lead me on.”

He shoves playfully at Dark’s shoulder, but Dark doesn’t reciprocate, just looks at him. Anti laughs again, a confused edge to it.

“You’re joking, of course. You know who I am.”

Dark stares evenly across at him, their eyes slightly narrowed. “Of course,” they say finally.

“Yeah,” says Anti, and there’s a real affection in the way his fingers rise to rest against Dark’s cheek. “Hey, uh. I missed you, Pangur Dubh.”

Dark’s expression breaks with shock. Anti draws his fingers away, startled.

“Dark?” he asks.

“What did you just call me?” hisses Dark, grabbing Anti’s wrists. He tries to back away, confused, but Dark just follows after him. “How did you know that name?”

“I - I called you that from the first time we started getting along,” gasps Anti, eyes wide. “Hey, that’s not funny. That’s… that name is just for you.”

But Dark just looks at him, shaking their head now, eyes astonished and wary. “You really are a powerful little mind manipulator,” they growl. “To be looking into things I only hear in dreams.”

“Not funny,” snaps Anti, more aggressive now. “That’s stupid, Dark, cut it the fuck out. You’re being an ass. Get off.”

Dark lets go of his wrists, backing away.

Anonymous asked: Cruel to them or cruel to Anti?

“I do not know who Anti is,” announces Wilford proudly.

“They mean the monster,” says Google. “And listen, this one’s howling for his master to save him.”

Wilford drops Trick and Google takes him by the hair, looking at his face. Trick tries to reach up and get his wrist in a hold, but Google’s hands are immovable no matter how much he tries to twist or scratch, all of Red’s and Anti’s fighting tips failing him against something that feels no pain. “We should take this one so its brain can have a break. The other one will just sleep through the next few days, I expect. Human sicknesses are annoying.”

nikkilbook asked: Hey there, Wilfstache. Welcome to the party. I asked Google this question, but he’s busy being a grumpus. Mind telling me what Dark asked y’all to do tonight? Bonus points for telling me “why.”

“Dark doesn’t have to explain themselves,” guffaws Wilford, turning his attention to Dapper now that Google’s taken an interest in Trick. “Well, hello there, sir, and how are you on this fine evening? That is quite a mess you’ve made of your arm. I ought to have the doctor cut it off. Or do it myself!”

“You leave him alone,” cries Trick. Dapper manages to get to his feet and tries to slip past Wilford to get to his knife, but the intruder hooks powerful arms around his waist and holds him carefully in place.

“Now, now, my dear, we’re not here to hurt you. Anyway, you were asking why. Dark said that they found a monster in the woods and the monster says it owns a time traveler and will lend him to them if we play a little capture the flag with real people. And look!”

He heaves Dapper off the ground by the waist, forcing him to grab at Wilford’s shoulders for balance, trembling against his chest.

“I got the flag!”

Anonymous asked: Oh, great! The reality bender joined the party! Fun times. Hey Wilfy. Trick, may I advise either a tactical retreat or a more diplomatic approach than gun-shooty, seeing as you are both outnumbered and outmatched? Dark's keeping Anti distracted a little longer DESPITE OUR BEST EFFORTS, THE DUMB GLITCH.

Diplomatic approach? “You don’t have to do this,” pants Trick, trying to get a word in edgewise. “Please, just leave us alone. We’re not here to hurt anyone. Anti likes Dark. He’s not trying to actually cause problems. They’re just playing.”

Google stops, glancing over at Trick. “Dark knows that thing? Wil, is that true?”

“Don’t expect Wilford to know anything,” mutters Shep.

“I’m not sure,” says Wil. “They speak about him oddly.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know. Saying they find him interesting, that they haven’t seen anything quite like him, that he looks like Mark’s little European friend. Things like that.”

“That’s who you look like,” gasps Shep. “Holy cow, little Jacksepticeye impersonators. Wow, that’s nuts. He doesn’t do his hair like this anymore, though, that’s why I didn’t notice.”

Google cocks his head at the others. “You’re both slow, even for humans. Their faces are all but identical. These creations are to Jack the same way we are to Mark.”

Shep’s eyebrows raise. He and Wil exchange glances.

“Who’s Mark?” asks Wil.

“Please just leave us alone,” says Trick. “We’re not trying to cause any harm. We’ve had a rough year, okay?”

Anonymous asked: Shepherd, please, sorry, I know you feel like you have to do whatever Dark says right now - please be decent as you can in how you're going about this? You can offer some good here. What does Dark have planned for the one you abduct? Is he going to hurt them? The sick one, Dapper, has a traumatic history with Dark, but it's cruel to leave one of them alone with the spirit Dark came to confront, Anti. Can you do anything? Can you talk to them? Please?

Shep lets out a long sigh, rolling his eyes deeply. The others wait for him to speak.

“Pack a bag,” he says. “Quick. You got two minutes.”

“No, no,” croaks Trick. “Please leave us with our brother.”

“Your brother appears to be a literal demon, for what it’s worth, but anyway I have orders. I’m taking one of you. Either pick or both of you start packing.”

Dapper is back on the floor, shuddering without responding to anything around him. He can’t leave him. He needs to get him his things first. Trick glances between him and Shep and then gets to his feet, hurrying to the closet to get a backpack for Dapper and start shoving his things in - his bear, some clothes, his knife - “No, not that, dumb-ass,” scowls Shep - okay, fine, but his Haldol, the antiseptic and stitches from earlier, his toothbrush, his drawing pad, some snacks he finds in a drawer stuffed full of food in the corner of the room, a stash he didn’t know Dapper kept. Some of it has rotted instead of being eaten, but he gets crackers and bananas and fills the bag.

Gigi laughs softly. Shep shoots him a glare, crossing his arms over his chest.

Anonymous asked: Didn't we warn you? Dapper told you that the timeline you knew doesn't exist anymore but you just brushed it off as meaningless ramblings of a man confused about his reality. Everything that you did was for nothing and now you're met face to face with one of the consequences of it

“That’s not true,” breathes Anti, staring at Dark, eyes wide. “This is crazy. We know each other. You’re messing with me. Don’t be an ass, Dark. It’s me.”

“Little monster,” says Dark, voice wavering a little.

“Pangur Dubh?” replies Anti. “Why are you doing this to me? We’ve been apart for months. I thought we were just playing. Where are my boys? Are they okay? Stop acting weird. Hey, look at me. Come on. Give me a kiss, you know me. I missed you. This is weird.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, Dark isn't playing. Do you remember what Dapper told you? It wasn't a delusion. When he snapped, he broke the timeline. None of them remember you. Jack doesn't, Dark doesn't, none of Mark's character remember you. This is more dangerous than I think you comprehend.

“Come on, don’t make me laugh!” barks out Anti. “Jack doesn’t? Now you’re talking crazy. Dark, stop being a - ”

Dark grabs him.

Gone is the image of a suave being in a dark suit. Dark towers over Anti, powerful and glaring, matching Anti’s fangs with their own. They shove Anti up against the nearest redwood and slam his wrists to the side, gripping him tight enough that red crescent moons appear in Anti’s arms.

Anti stares up at him, panting. His eyes move from confusion to distress to anger and back again.

And then the darkness is so thick you cannot see him.

“Tell me,” says a deep voice, rich as bitter chocolate and echoing across the trees. “What your name is?”

Anti feels fear fill him up.

“Fucker! Stop doing that!” he screeches, writhing. “You swore to me you’d never use your power on me! I don’t touch your head and you don’t touch my soul!”

“You already are in my head!” shouts Dark. “I can’t stop dreaming about you! Who are you, tell me! How did you know you would find me here? How did you know my name?”

“You don’t get to grab me without my permission - ”

“You think you can come into my forest and issue challenges - ”

“Do you know who I am or not?” shouts Anti.

The darkness lowers again, leaving them in cold twilight blue.

Dark stares at Anti. At his eyes. At his mouth. Their lips are twisted with disgust and desperation.

“Pangur Dubh,” says Anti, one more time. “My… my… Dark…”

Dark vanishes.

Anonymous asked: leave dapper be, please. he's the hurt one. leave him here.

“Do you want him to come or do you want him to stay?” asks Shep, gesturing at Dapper.

Trick crouches over his brother, taking his pulse. Dok taught him what to look for. He’s been his twin’s nurse for as long as he can remember.

And he knows Dapper could use help.

The question is whether Anti or these strangers will be better able to give it to him.

Anti loves him. Anti loves them both. Especially Dapper. Doesn’t he?

Anonymous asked: trick, love. he's been manipulating you all. it genuinely has been him. i'm sorry, trick. but we wouldn't tell you if it's not true.

“Fuck,” whispers Trick, with feeling. “I… I want to stay with him. Even if that means you take us both.”

“Fine,” says Shep. “Get on your feet. Let’s go.”

Anonymous asked: We're trying to bring Anti back, trick, we're working on it. All three of these people are dangerous but you and dapper can get out of this safely, I promise. Stay close to dapper, learn what you can, be ready to run when the opportunity rises. Okay?

He clutches Dapper against his chest as they move down the stairs.

“Ready to run, ready to run, ready to run,” he chants under his breath. “Okay, okay, okay.”

He doesn’t like how dark the house is now, how quiet. His siblings should be here. Anti should be here. He doesn’t want to go away. They finally found a place where they have warm beds and plenty of food and everything they need.

And yet the house feels empty and unprotective. He grips Dapper tighter, feeling his dangerous heat warm him.

Anonymous asked: Dark, I know you must be very confused. Anti has a time traveler, and he accidentally broke this timeline a bit. As far as Anti remembers, you're his lover, a very good old friend. He is used to playing games with you and being admired by you. He didn't know the timeline was broken. He was just playing games.

The message plays out to the quiet forest around him.

Anti is sitting where Dark dropped him, eyes wide, staring ahead.

A slight shake in his fingers.

As far as Anti remembers. His lover. Being admired by you. He didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

“This is still just a trick,” croaks Anti. “They are playing games with me. Dark knows me. Jack… Jack knows…”

But you see, in the lines of his face, something you have rarely seen there before: abject humiliation.

And a growing fear.

And then, yes, there - his anger, like the teeth of a tiger.

His anger.

Anonymous asked: Hey, Red, Blue, Dok, I don't know exactly when this'll get to you because the cameras are being slightly wonky, but don't come back to the house please, okay? To the best of my knowledge, your brothers are okay, but it'll be easier for us to coordinate everything if we don't have to worry about you three at the moment.

They’re distracted. The camera is sitting in the bag by the bed. Above you, you can hear Blue talking to someone about low-income housing and men’s shelters. It will be some time before they get any messages.

Anonymous asked: hey trick, love, just breathe. we'll tell you if we notice dark approaching, okay? we'll help you the best we can.

“They’re not approaching,” says Wilford cheerfully, running down the stairs as Trick’s eyes begin to get desperate, flashing over to you for help. “They’re here. Hey there, little ghost.”

True to their word and their nature, Dark has not entered the house without permission. They stand on the porch, head tilted, waiting for his soldiers to come out to them.

“Hi,” they answer quietly. Wilford grabs their hand and pulls them towards the forest, chattering about getting pizza when they get home.

“Hold on. Have you got them?”

“Yes, Darkness,” answers Gigi, his harsh tone disappearing. “Of course. Whatever you need.”

Shep rolls his eyes behind him, marching Trick forward.

“Which one’s the traveler?” asks Wil.

“This one,” says Dark. “I can tell.”

Dapper stops short before he reaches the doorway, chewing on his nails and squeezing his eyes shut. He curls in on himself like he’s going to throw up and turns away, refusing to go any farther. Trick wraps himself around his little brother and stares out at the figure of the Darkness.

Dark looks at Trick.

They tilt their head.

A moment later their form changes, going small and effeminate, long, straight black hair falling around their shoulders, red acrylic nails clicking on the ends of their fingers. “Come here, then,” they say in a clear, high-pitched voice, and Trick feels a wash of emotions swallow him whole - bizarre fondness, warmth, relief, calm. He relaxes, blinking. Shep gives him a small push and he straightens up and moves towards Dark, a little confused.

“No, no, no,” Dapper signs, his fear fighting with Dark’s power rising up in him. “No, no, no, no, Tricky, no. Afraid, afraid, afraid. Get Anti, now, now, now.”

“It’s okay,” says Trick, not sure why he says it. Logically, he knows he should be scared, should be panicked, should be nervous, at least, but it feels true. It isn’t like how Anti does things. That should scare him, but he feels pretty good. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Anonymous asked: Oh thank fuck, thank you Shepherd, you're our hero. Trick, you're doing great, okay? Good deescalation and good handling of a terrifying situation. You're doing your family proud. You're gonna be fine. We're keeping an eye on Anti and the rest of the family.

“Mmh,” hums Trick, holding a camcorder in his hands. “Okay, thank you. Yeah, I did good. We’re okay.”

Dapper leans over and pukes.

“I don’t feel good,” he admits, slumping against Trick’s chest.

Dark turns to Google. “Okay, Gigi, call Ippy and tell him to come back from the city and stay for the weekend. I want him here.”

“Yes, Dark.”

Anonymous asked: ANTI, Trick and Dap are being freaked out by Wilford, Google, and Silver Shepherd in your house, just in case you'd like to maybe Do Something About That

Anti stalks across the yard, his shadow cutting across the trees.

“Forget me,” he whispers, fire crackling in his hands. “Forget? Forget me? And take my boys from me? My pets?”

Why don’t they remember?

The pain of it nearly crushes him and he staggers, feeling his form shift and mutate with his discomfort distracting him. He’s so powerful these days, so consumed with fire and psionics, with glitching and flowers. But without Marvin’s body, his own form barely contains it. Blood seeps out of his mouth and his throat.

He didn’t mind that he and Dark only ever saw each other a couple times a year. That was how he liked it. He didn’t mind when they were away, or not much. But in the back of his head, even when he was bitter and angry, he felt that there was someone in the world who would be happy to see him if he ever wanted to not be alone.

For Dark to act this way - it can’t be true. They must just be mad at him. That seems to sting even worse. He doesn’t know why they decided they don’t like him all of a sudden, but he wants them to stop and go back to how things were. This isn’t right. How could they treat him like this? His hands burn, Marvin’s flames biting at his glitching fingers.

He wants Dapper and Trick. He wants them now. He wants to go to bed and feel them close to him and know that they know him. That they know him and they’re here, and they’re not going anywhere. They’re not. They’re not. They’re his.

nikkilbook asked: If you’re going to take one, take both. Please don’t leave one of them behind. This is a bad place.

“Come on, then, quickly now,” says Dark, turning away. “Wilford, if you would?”

Wilford turns back towards Dapper and Trick. “Who wants to go first?”

“Wait… this… this is a bad idea,” says Trick, his emotions confusing him. “I don’t want to go with you.”

Anonymous asked: Taking both might be good, the sick one, Dapper, has a blood infection, he really needs a doctor. Trick could be useful to do the talking. Please be gentle with them, if they get hurt I don't think Anti will be very happy about that, boys.

“Oh, gentle,” nods Wilford. “Okay, yes, you got it. I’m very good at being gentle.”

Shep shakes his head at you.

“Come on, then! It’ll be nice, I promise.”

He reaches for Trick.

Google’s hand snaps out and grabs his wrist.

“Excuse me,” pouts Wilford. “You stop that, you hunk of metal.”

Google’s face smiles. His eyes glow red.

“Here’s another idea,” suggests Anti from within the body of the android, baring his teeth and stalking forward, pushing Trick and Dapper behind him. “You get the fuck away from what’s mine before I start causing you pain that you will remember, you deranged bastard.”

Dark stares at Anti. For a moment, you think that what you are seeing in their eyes is a begrudging satisfaction.

“Well, then,” says Dark. “What was that you were saying about winning in a fight?”

Anonymous asked: Hey Trick and Dap? If these two start throwing hands it could get very nasty very fast, and anyone in the immediate vicinity is almost undoubtedly going to get caught in the cross fire, so please try and get a safe distance away as soon as possible?

Trick grabs Dapper and scrambles away from Anti and the others, but the sight of his handgun a few feet away stops him. He begins inching towards it, panting as quietly as he can. Wilford glances over at him and Trick’s stomach churns. What good will guns even do?

“Gigi has other bodies,” says Dark calmly, tilting their head at Shep. “Wreck him.”

They let courage fill Shep’s chest up like magma. You see the light in his black eyes go wild and reckless. Anti laughs once.

Wilford pulls out his gun. Shep pounces.

Anonymous asked: hey. dap. go with trick, okay? i promise we'll take care of you the best we can. go with trick. we'll watch over you.

“Faint,” warns Dapper dazedly, clinging to his brother.

“I got you, I got you,” whispers Trick doggedly, squeezing his hands as he creeps closer to his gun. “We’re sticking together, I’m here.”

Shep’s silver knuckles crash into Google’s face, battering the alloy of his cheek. Anti cackles, a bizarre sound from Google’s normally deep, stern voice, and grabs Shep’s wrist in an iron embrace, driving his knee up into his stomach and folding Dark’s soldier in half. Shep howls and Wilford glances between everyone, a little lost as to what’s going on.

“Wil,” calls Dark, even as their body vanishes back into shadow. “Don’t let Shep die.”

“Shep, Shep,” mumbles Wil, trying to place him, his gun traveling uncertainly between Shep, Google, and the brothers in the grass. “Oh, dear.”

Smoke consumes Shep and Anti as Dark descends on them, his power tearing at Anti’s chest. The monster screams in panic as fear clogs his chest, but Anti has known fear before, and he won’t let it stop him now. He throws himself forward and wraps an arm around Shep’s head, threatening to snap his neck in half, trembling hard enough that he might do it on accident. Dark’s power retreats, their body appearing again close to Anti and grabbing him by Google’s dark hair.

“Stop!” shrieks Trick, grabbing his handgun. “Let him go!”

Anonymous asked: hey, anti. anti, please let silver shepherd go. too the best of my knowledge, the others will come back, and they'll come back probably even more obedient since you're something they know, and dark isn't. can you at least not kill silver shepherd, please?

“What, you want your little weapon back?” snarls Anti, turning to Dark with Shep pressed against his body, the little joke pressed against his chest.

“He means nothing to me,” answers Dark.

“Apparently nobody does,” spits back Anti. “For that, I’m going to make you the one who suffers.”

He drops Shep and lunges at Dark, grabbing them before they can disappear and driving his fist into their stomach. Dark lets out a cry of real pain as weak, cracked bone shatters. Spine breaks through skin and cloth and sticks out of their back. It’s Wilford’s turn to scream in alarm. He buries a bullet in Google’s stomach and Anti hollers, oil dripping down his belly. He leaves Google’s body and transports behind Wilford, shoving a knife into his back. Wilford scowls and turns to him irritably, cocking his gun a second time, but Anti is already gone.

“G - Gigi?” stammers Shep, backing away from the body of his companion, sparking as it collapses onto the ground.

“They’ll kill everyone to hurt each other,” signs Dapper, grabbing Trick’s shirt. “It’s just chess to them, Trick. Make them stop. I… I don’t feel good.”

His face turns grey so fast Trick actually flinches in surprise. Dapper has to be sick once more, throwing up into the grass. Trick grabs his head and feels the moment where his brother loses consciousness there in the front of the house, bile dripping from his mouth.

“Stop, please,” chokes Trick. “This is terrible, s-stop!”

He gets to his feet, clutching his gun.

“Don’t worry, pet,” snarls Anti, stalking around Dark, his nails growing out like knives. “It’s just fun and games, isn’t that fucking right, Dark?”

“Just tell me your goddamn name!” shouts Dark. “Why are you haunting me?”

Anonymous asked: trick, dark manipulates emotions. keep yourself and dapper away from them, okay?

“You want to see me manipulate?” hisses Dark.

Anger fills Trick up. Terror fills Trick up. His hands tremble on the gun, but he feels himself point it in a gut reaction - directly at Anti.

“Trick,” snaps Anti. “You belong to me. You know what you need to do. Shoot them.”

Shoot them. Shoot them. You know what you need to do. Anti’s words seem to come from within his own head and he staggers, nearly falling onto his side in shock as his body goes to war with itself. His head and his heart shout commands at him, making him feel dizzy and afraid.

And in the middle of all of it, there is one feeling or thought or understanding that he recognizes completely as his own:

I really am just a puppet, aren’t I?

Anonymous asked: his name is anti, dark. antisepticeye. he's a little in love with you, or a version of you that he once knew, but you don't remember him and he's furious.

Redwood saplings as thick as a man’s arm burst from the ground and wrap around Dark, Wilford, and Shep. Wilford vanishes and reappears beside Trick, making him jump, as Shep trips onto the ground and begins tearing at the branches on his legs without much luck. Dark feels bones shattering and twisting all across their body. They pant as the branches eat them up, reaching for their throat, and struggle to transport away.

“I’m more powerful than last we met, Darkness,” bites Anti, stalking forward with blue fire in his eyes. “I think I could kill you, do you know that? I think I could do it.”

“Anti,” Dark mumbles, squeezing their eyes shut. “Why… no. This isn’t right. That isn’t even yours. That isn’t the way your soul looks.”

Anti stops. “What?”

“That magic… that isn’t even yours. You don’t look the way the monster in my dreams does.”

Anti’s mouth parts in alarm, his stolen magic dying down again, leaving him cold and beautiful as he was when he was still trying to impress Dark, his skin white and his eyes glowing.

“What?”

“Anti,” repeats Dark under their breath, not sure what it means, not sure what or who or why they remember. “Anti.”

The vines on their neck have loosened. They transport back into the darkness, disappearing into shadow.

Anonymous asked: his name is anti. in another timeline, the one they're originally from, you two knew each other, and i'm pretty sure he loved you, as much as it's possible for him to love anyone. in that timeline, you were his old friend. i'm sorry that you don't know what's happening, dark, and i'm sure this must be confusing. also, only one other person has remembered them, someone who cared about them a lot, so that you're remembering anti's name for you means something, even if it's just a dream.

“You’re just fucking with me,” pants Anti. “And I hate it. You’re being such an ass, Dark, you - this is so fucking mean, cut it out.”

“You’re just some parasite,” spits Dark’s voice from the shadows. “You’re just - you’re the one who started all this. You should have just stayed away.”

“Guess that’s true,” Anti snarls back, shaking his head like he can get the thoughts out of it that are hurting him. “Come back here and let’s fight like proper monsters. You can’t treat me like this. I know you remember me. You can’t have forgotten.”

“Shep, get back to the house,” orders Dark.

“This is nuts,” pants Shep, even as he begins to back away.

Trick, freed of their influence, comes to stand beside Anti, his gun pointed at the shadows where Dark is hiding. He feels Anti’s hand wrap around his free wrist to steady him and immediately feels safer. They’re here. Together. They’ll face this thing together.

Wilford looks around.

Why are they here, again? Were they fetching someone? He watches Shep turn and race away into the woods. Looks like a tactical retreat. And his blackbird, well - his blackbird can hold their own, no doubt about that. Perhaps he’ll watch as they terrorize their enemies. It’s one of his favorite pastimes, after all!

There’s a faint wheeze beside him. He looks over and sees a small figure curled into the grass, clutching at their stomach, their arm bloodied and their face terribly pale.

“Oh, no, my darling,” he says to no one in particular. “Oh, dear, you don’t look well at all. If you’d like, I can take you to the doctor?”

Anonymous asked: trick, my dear. go with dark. trust me, trust us, when i say that it will be better to have dark take you and dapper than to stay here with anti. dapper's hurt, yeah? and he's scared. they have a doctor, and you can go with them to protect dapper. he can't protect himself at the moment.

“Traitorous little eyes,” Anti snarls, whirling on you. “No one is taking him - no! Wil, wait!”

As he turns to look at you, there is Wilford, transported behind him and picking Dapper up in his arms, blinking in surprise at Anti, who wraps an arm around Trick’s waist and stares at Wilford in alarm, his arm stretched out.

“Wait, no, not him,” pants Anti. “No, no. Wil, it’s me. Okay? Hey, you won, okay, Dark? You got Red and Blue and Dok. So you won. No need to take him too. We were just playing. Leave my boy with me. I didn’t know you were going to react that way. It was just a game. He’s not a part of it, not now. Leave Dapper with me. You already got the others.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” snaps Dark. “I didn’t ‘get the others.’ They ran away from you, little monster.”

Anti turns back to his old enemy, his old friend, his mouth slightly parted. He feels Trick tense against his chest.

“That’s not true,” croaks Trick. “My brother wouldn’t have run away. Especially not… without me.”

“The cameras saw them too,” shrugs Dark, stepping out of the darkness. “Guess you don’t have as tight of a hold on your pets as you think you do.”

Anti can feel himself beginning to shake.

“Little traitors,” he spits, his eyes flickering between you and Dark and the forest path the others ran down some hours ago. “Little… all of you, disloyal, hateful little things… I’ll make you regret this, I’ll make you all… traitors, you…”

His arm is too tight around Trick’s waist. His fingers are biting into his stomach. Trick just clings to him in return, barely able to process it.

Did Dok really just… go?

Did Dok ask him to go get him dinner just to turn him away and leave without him?

And his big brothers, who were supposed to protect him - did they really leave him like this?

“Wil, go,” says Dark.

“No!” cries Anti.

But Wil is already gone, and with him, Dapper.

Anti turns to Dark, fire in his fingers and a scream on his throat -

Dark is gone too.

Anonymous asked: they didn't want to leave you, trick. but they knew you would never leave anti and blue is about to fucking die. they needed to get him away.

“Anti?” whispers Trick.

Anti stares at the ground. His hands are clutched into loose fists at his side. He looks like Dapper. He doesn’t move.

Trick puts a hand on his shoulder. The crickets are singing. The first stars are in the sky.

“Are you… are you going to go after him?”

Anti nods. But he doesn’t move.

“Anti,” Trick repeats.

When he still doesn’t answer, Trick closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He wraps an arm around his brother’s shoulder and leads him back into the house.

The high ceiling stares down at them, quieter than ever. The house seems to loom, dark and abandoned. Trick and Anti sit down on the stairs.

Trick pulls a camera into his lap and sighs, burying his face in his hands.

That’s… that’s fair, he supposes. Blue was really sick. And Anti threatened to kill Dok. And he himself, well… he was going to get those necklaces off his twin. He was. Even though he knew that wasn’t what Dok wanted. So he supposes… he betrayed him first.

So it’s… it’s fair. Yeah. It’s fair. Maybe if he had been a better twin, Dok would have stuck around. But he couldn’t even keep him safe.

So he went. Okay. That’s fair.

Tears drip down Trick’s cheeks.

He wasn’t trying to pick sides, he just… he just wants… he just wants…

Anti’s hand rests on his thigh. They sit together.

Anonymous asked: trick, they did not abandon you. they were escaping anti, but they didn't abandon you, okay? they would never do that. i promise. they love you too much to ever abandon you.

“Are they… are they coming back?” asks Trick in a whisper.

Anonymous asked: Trick they didn't just leave, they plan to come back to save you, to get you safe. Red saved Blue and Dok, he saved Dok from being killed by Anti, and he took them all to a hospital. Rojo did what he was supposed to, what he always does, and protected your brothers when they were in danger. They'll come back to you.

Trick looks up at you at last, a little reassured. They’ll come back for him. They just needed to go to the hospital. And… he knows he wasn’t trustworthy enough to go along. He knows that. They did what they had to. Probably Red was bossing Dok around as usual anyway, ha. Probably Dok wanted to stay with him. But he couldn’t keep him safe and they both know that.

But they’ll be back. Or… those three will, at least.

“What will happen to Dapper?” asks Trick. “Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” admits Anti. “I don’t - I don’t know who Dark is right now. And I don’t know who’s in that house. I haven’t kept up with Mark cause he’s an idiot. But he creates recklessly and sometimes those creations - well, Dark usually kills off the ones they don’t like, so I don’t know… was he sick?”

“Yeah, I don’t think he was feeling well.”

“Dark might get in his heart,” mutters Anti. “They manipulate power and emotions. I’m afraid of what they might do if he coaxes all that power out of him. My little brother.”

And Trick -

Well. He isn’t sure. But he thinks maybe Anti is crying too.

His brother’s head rests on his shoulder. They sit together. Trick takes his hand.

“They didn’t even look at me like they knew me,” whispers Anti. “I was a ghost to them.”

Anonymous asked: anti, i hate to say this, but i am sorry. i can see you really do love them, and it must hurt for them to seemingly hate you now.

“Oh, you fuck off, that’s disgusting,” spits Anti. “Love them, please, as if. Fuck them. I don’t love them and I never did. Tricked you, huh? As if, no way. No, it - it’s manipulation. That was it. I wanted their help, sure. And they’re pretty hot. But that’s it. I never cared about them. Or anyone, for that matter.”

It actually makes Trick smile a little. He snorts and shakes his head. He wants to tell him he’s full of it.

But he looks up and Anti’s face is shaking with anger and stress, his fists clenched together. Trick squeezes his palms, his heart sinking for him.

“You really liked them, huh?”

“This is stupid,” snarls Anti. “I fucking hate this plot point. And I’m going to make them pay!”

“I don’t know if that’s - ”

Anti smashes his hand into the wall, shattering plaster. Trick sinks down against him, biting his lip.

“Taking Dap from me,” hisses Anti, his eyes beginning to go wild again. “Pretending like they don’t even know me. They’re the one who always used to come on to me! Now they act like this? I’ll kill them! Fuck them!”

Trick squirms as Anti’s body becomes hot to the touch, but he won’t let go of his brother’s hand. Anti crumples against him, trembling.

Anonymous asked: Well Anti, now you know how your brothers feel. Now you know how it feels to love someone who can't love you back :)

“Please,” snaps Anti. “They’re the one who’s always been desperate to have me. If they want to act like a bitch, that’s their fucking problem. And I’m powerful, now… more than a match for them. They’ll regret this, I fucking swear it. I’m sure they already do. Didn’t know what they were tangling with. I was already a match for them before I had Marvin’s power. I’ll tear down everything they do love and they can watch it all burn.”

“Anti,” protests Trick weakly. “Just… let’s just breathe.”

Anonymous asked: yeahhh, that's bullshit. you're in love with them and you're too scared to admit it, but that's a conversation for another day. the question now is; what are you going to do?

Anti gets to his feet, his teeth gritted in his mouth, tearing at his hair. “You’re all fucking dense if you think I care about them!”

“Anti,” says Trick. “We have to focus on Dapper.”

Anti stalks around the room for long minutes, muttering to himself, glitching into different appearances, snarling.

“You have to calm down,” whispers Trick.

“I can’t!” screams Anti. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t! I’ve never been able to and it’s his fault because he didn’t make me that way! I can’t calm down!”

“That’s not true!” cries Trick. “I don’t believe that for a second! You can’t keep telling yourself that you’re not capable of goddamn controlling yourself, Anti, it’s why our family keeps falling apart over and over again!”

Anti stops short, turning to stare at him, mouth open.

“Anti,” pleads Trick. “I’ve seen you calm down before. Come here. Just hold onto me and we’ll take deep breaths.”

Anonymous asked: Breathe Anti. Just breathe for a bit, ignore the fire and the rush in your brain. Just sit with Trick for a bit. You always get control eventually, right? So surely things will go back to normal soon. Like you said, they're no match for you, right?

“It hurts,” spits Anti, pulling on his hair. “It - it’s like it burns me.”

Trick gets to his feet, grabbing onto Anti’s shoulder.

“Look, man,” he says. “I feel it too. But right now, just… come sit with me.”

“Turn cameras off,” orders Anti irritably, hiding his face in his hands.

Trick chuckles weakly and sets you down a few feet away, out of view, though in truth there are enough mounted cameras around the house that you can still see them, little figures at the bottom of that grand staircase in the darkness.

Anonymous asked: anti, i will tell you this. jack and dark no longer remember you. the timelines were switched up, and they don't know you exist anymore. dark doesn't hate you. they just don't know you. and that's why jack hasn't come for the boys as well. none of them know you anymore.

And Dark - Dark is one thing.

But Jack?

No, no. Anti can’t even begin to think about that right now. Later, maybe. But right now -

Jack, Jack.

He’s only shaking harder. His whole body burns like there’s energy beneath it he can’t get out. He trembles. He pants. Bites down hard on his lip and feels his spine curl with the pain of it. He wants to cut his throat open again and make it count this time.

“Anti,” pleads Trick, very small. “Anti, I…”

Anti shoves himself into his shoulder and grips onto him. Tight, tight. Anti grips on to the one person he has left, and shudders his way through his panic in Trick’s steady arms.

“I lied,” whispers Anti, so soft you know you aren’t meant to hear it.

“About what, Anti?”

“There are people I care about,” Anti answers, curling his fingers through the hair on the back of Trick’s hair. “There are.”

They are cast in blue by the early night.

Anonymous asked: i don't know, but i think they will. i think they'll come back for you. but trick? when they get here, i think you're gonna have to choose between them and anti. i'm sorry, but i don't see it going any other way.

Trick stares at his brother, his arms wrapped around him.

The light of the moon looks down on him through the skylight.

He doesn’t know what to do.

He doesn’t know who he is anymore. He doesn’t know where this is going or what happens next.

He doesn’t know who he would choose if he had to.

Anonymous asked: i think anti's trying to tell you he loves you, trick.

He thinks you might be right.

He doesn’t know a lot of things right now, it’s true. But there are some things he does know.

He knows that Red and Anti made a deal for their family back in Peru. Made a decision for their family: This is the last time we play this game.

The decision he makes - the decisions all of them make - will be final. The choices they make will be final.

“I love you too, Anti,” he says, glancing up at the faraway glow of the moon, and his brother cards his fingers through his hair and holds him.

Miles away, his twin sits at the window in a hospital room and stares out at the same moon, chewing on his nails and thinking about him.

[chilling-seavey]

The girls hanging out with their uncles ~T

Gotta bring some more of Corbyn, Jonah, Zach, and Jack back into the universe!!

After graduation, Daniel and his four best friends didn’t see each other often anymore as life kept them busy. Well, except for Jack whom he worked with at a studio downtown, but the rest of them were sort of scattered around the province. After Daniel sent out the announcement of Lucy’s birth, the group were determined to get together again…if they could just find a week that lined up with everyone’s schedules…which wasn’t until Lucy was two. Regardless, the best friends were absolutely ecstatic to see each other, and Florence stayed home with the girls to let the boys have a night out the first day they were all together.

Jack knew Daniel’s daughters very well since he was around so much which is why he was the one who offered to babysit the girls with the guys while Florence and Daniel went out one day for some one on one time. The other best friends were a bit hesitant – especially knowing Jack’s university life was filled with drinking and failing classes so he was the last person they would trust to babysit the kids – but Florence and Daniel didn’t seem worried in the slightest and on the third day that all the boys were in town, the Seavey daughters were left with their uncles.

It was a bit awkward at first, the line of three little girls aged 2-7 staring up at the row of young men who knew them but they didn’t know back. Well, except for Clementine who had faint memories of the other guys and was eager to rekindle a little relationship and get to the park already. She had seen Jack bring in his skateboard which thrilled her to no end. She gathered her own skateboard that Jack bought her for her seventh birthday – and her helmet and elbow pads and knee pads because otherwise her father would have a fit – and raced them all to the door of the apartment. (Outside of the Seavey family, ‘Uncle Jack’ was her favourite person). Penelope stuck with Corbyn, his gentle “Do you want to hold my hand?” being the gateway to the shy little girl’s heart, and she bit back her shy smile as they walked hand in hand to the park. Lucy was seemingly star-struck by Jonah as he opted to carry the youngest to the park rather than risk having her run off into traffic, and she sat in his arms and stared at him open-mouthed.

Zach had never been a baby’s first choice. Every time he held Penelope when she was a baby she cried and every time he held Clementine as a baby she wiggled away to go find Daniel or Jack instead; so Zach kept a little to himself as he followed his friends to the park. Jack and Clementine took off right away when they got there, setting up camp on one of the benches and he helped Velcro up her elbow and knee pads and clipped her helmet on securely.

“Ready, little orange?” Jack grinned down at her, dropping his skateboard to the pavement.

“Yes!” Clementine shrieked, throwing her hands up in excitement. He held her hand as she stepped on her board and she glided ahead of him down the park path, Jack hot on her heels.

“Jack!” Jonah called after him but he was already too far. He turned to Zach and Corbyn, “Now what?”

Penelope tugged at Corbyn’s hand and he bent down to her height, “What’s up, Nell?”

“Can we play over there?” she asked, pointing over to the play structure set up on a pad of wood chips.

“Of course.” Corbyn smiled, letting her pull him off towards the structure and he shot a grin over his shoulder to his friends.

“I’m coming too!” Zach ran after them.

“Guys!” Jonah sighed, running a hand over his forehead before looking to the toddler in his arms. When he met her eyes, she giggled. “Looks like it’s just us, Lucy Lu.”

He looked around to figure out where he was supposed to take a two-year-old, finally deciding on the swings and he walked over and set her down in one, her little chubby legs sticking out the bottom and she wrapped her fingers around the plastic in front of her body. Jonah pushed her gently in the swing, standing in front of her so she could try to reach for him each time she moved forwards, that being an absolute thrill to the toddler.

Corbyn was a dream to Penelope – mostly because he was so gentle with her and always let her catch him during their little game of tag with Zach. After a little while, she got more comfortable around them, calling out Zach for cheating because apparently it was rule that you couldn’t climb on the outside of the structure (even though she just made that up on the spot), and therefore he was stuck letting her catch him as he jumped to the ground. Her little giggles when she smacked his hip and said, “Got you!” was too cute to be too mad at.

Corbyn tried to encourage her to play with some of the kids at the park that were her age but she just shied behind him and shook her head, perfectly content playing with the two adults as she pulled him along behind her.

Clementine and Jack were skating away halfway down the park together, going generally slow because Clementine was pretty new to skating still but she hadn’t fallen at all that day. Jack ran beside her as she took a little hill, his board under his arm to focus on her to make sure she didn’t fall, her arms outstretched like a starfish and her face wide with uncertainty.

“Good! Now put on the breaks!” Jack instructed as the ground flattened out.

“I can’t!” Clementine shouted.

“Yes, you can! You know how!” Jack said, still jogging beside her as she zoomed along the pavement, pedestrians jumping out of her way. 

Clementine shrieked but shut her eyes and dropped her foot down, the motion throwing her messily forward.

“Shit!” Jack lunged for her and grabbed her around her waist to keep her from hitting the ground, nearly falling over himself in the process. “I got you.”

“I can’t do it!” Clementine whined.

“Yes, you can! Come on, let’s go again.” Jack started back up the hill.

“No, Jacky.” Clementine protested, grabbing his shirt to stop him. “I want ice cream now.”

“Ice cream? Where are we supposed to get ice cream?” Jack asked.

“There’s a stand by the swings.” Clementine said cheekily, running back up the hill in front of him. “Race you!”

By the time they got to the top of the hill, Jack dropped his board and pushed off ahead, easily taking the lead. Jonah was walking Lucy back to the bench when he passed and he nearly had to snatch Lucy out of the way just in time with Clementine skating after him much slower but with intent to keep up.

“Ice cream break, boys!” Jack shouted, gathering his friends and the three girls over by the ice cream stand. He bought them each a treat and the guys bought ones for themselves too before taking a break to go sit on the grass. Jonah unwrapped Lucy’s ice cream for her and she held out little grabby hands to it as he lowered it to her mouth and she took an eager lick, beaming up at him with those bright blue eyes. Penelope and Clementine held their own just fine, sitting side by side between Jack and Corbyn with their treats, eating quietly as they were tired out from running around.

“Can we watch a movie?” Penelope asked, tugging on Corbyn’s sleeve.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Corbyn replied.

“Cinderella!” Penelope grinned.

“Good, that’s my favourite.” Zach piped up through his ice cream, making the girls laugh. Lucy grabbed Jonah’s hand to pull the ice cream closer to get another lick, vanilla already smeared all over her face and her cheeks but she was smiling through the mess regardless.

They got back to the apartment and Corbyn got the movie queued up on the TV as Jonah pulled the blinds and they all got settled over the sectional sofa with blankets and pillows alike. Lucy clocked out early, falling asleep over Zach’s lap which made his heart absolutely soar. Penelope was sandwiched between Jonah and Corbyn, holding each of their hands as she was entranced by the movie playing in front of them, and Clementine was cuddled up with Jack at the other end of the couch, their heads leaning together as they were both watching the movie intently.

Corbyn glanced over their little group and smiled at Jonah as he whispered, “Got to admit, Daniel’s got some cute kids.”

“He does.” Jonah turned to Zach who was on his left before looking back to Corbyn. “Zach’s my favourite.”

“Heard that.” Zach grumbled, making the boys laugh.

[somedayonbroadway]

We’s A Family

Fandom: Newsies

Characters: Jack Kelly, Henry, Sniper, Finch, JoJo, Mike, Ike, Specs, Elmer, Medda Larkin, Crutchie Morris (mentioned), Racetrack Higgins (mentioned), Katherine Plumber (mentioned), Romeo (mentioned)

Words: 4K+

Summary: Jack knows his family. Each and every one of them. And there's nothing in the world he loves more.

A/N: Hello, fansies! I'm back with another request that, again, is pretty old, but still important. This request is once again from the lovely FuriedNight! Way back when, this beautiful person gave me a request to see Jack's interactions with a few of the newsies that we don't get to see so often in fics, either in canon or modern. I personally think I'm better at writing in modern era, so this is all modern. Let me know what you guys think!

Enjoy!

"Henry, slow down… you're gonna break the bowl…"

Henry did not slow down. He didn't even know if he could. He was so lost in his own head that he words hardly even registered in his poor little confused brain.

"Hen… hey… look at me, buddy…"

Henry let out a strained breath as he did as he was told, dropping his spoon into the bowl and dropping the bowl back down onto the counter. He looked up to see Jack standing in the doorway, a backpack slung over his shoulder. Henry could hear Katherine somewhere in the background. But he didn't care to listen too much as she swooned over little Romeo who had been sitting with Race and learning to read.

"You wanna tell me what's goin' on, kid?"

"Nope."

Jack snorted. Henry didn't find it so amusing. But Jack just shook his head and rounded the counter, dropping his backpack down on the ground as he snuck his finger into the bowl that Henry had been desperately and violently stirring just a minute before. Henry swatted him away, shaking his head.

"Go 'way," he grumbled pathetically.

Jack gave him a playful smirk. "Boy, ya know I won't leave ya alone till ya tell me what's eatin' at ya," he stated, going in for another taste. But Henry grabbed the bowl and turned away.

"You'll make yourself sick, Jack. I'll make you n' extra batch without dairy, just… stop…" the younger boy sighed.

Smiling, Jack wrapped an arm over Henry's shoulder. "Fine… but I still ain't leavin' till I know—"

"I think I'm in love, okay?!" Henry cried dramatically, stopping in his practiced movements and looking up at his big brother, completely terrified.

To his horror, Jack only laughed.

"What, you think this is funny?!" he demanded, pulling away from the older boy and taking his bowl and spoon with him to the other side of the kitchen and pulling out more ingredients.

He was stress baking. A habit he'd only sort of picked up from Race.

"Kid… come sit down," he coaxed, heading over to the kitchen table and pulling out a chair for the fifteen year old.

Henry grumbled something under his breath. But he complied.

"Alright… so… tell me about this person…"

Henry sat still for a moment, looking embarrassed and frazzled as he stared down at the batter now sitting lifelessly on the table. "He's… different…"

Nodding, Jack smiled. "And?"

"And… he's… he's protective… and he's… he's so hot and strong and good at… at… so many things…"

"Henry, if you've already had sex with this boy, I might have to kill him—" Jack started, knowing it would get quite the blush out of his little brother.

"I haven't had— Jesus, Jack, just…" Henry didn't know what to say. He had no idea what to do. "I… really like him…"

For a long moment, Jack studied the boy. He rested his chin on his hand and smiled. "So? Why is that so bad?"

Henry dramatically groaned and threw his head back. "I can't be with him!" he cried, picking up his bowl and heading back to the counter where he'd left the flour. "It would be a disaster!"

Jack blinked and shook his head, trying to shake off that shout that he hadn't quite expected, but he stood again, following the younger kid. "A bigger disaster than Race n' Spot?"

"Yes!"

"I find that hard ta believe," Jack scoffed. "But I'll bite. Why would it be a disaster?"

Henry paused, looking over at the boy that had looked out for him since he was eleven years old. "He… n'... I just… I—"

"Okay, okay, pal, don't hurt ya'self," Jack chuckled. "Look, if ya really like him, talk ta him… thing's 'll work out… n'... a cupcake definitely wouldn't hurt ya," he said, reaching to ruffle the boy's hair before grabbing his backpack again and walking back out to his girlfriend.

Henry watched Jack go. And he sighed.

Maybe Jack was right.

He sighed and turned on the oven.

He hoped red velvet would be good enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sniper! You've been in there for an hour!"

There was a banging on the door. Sniper recognized it as a lacrosse stick. It wasn't hard to guess. The voice that continued to whine outside the bathroom door belonged to none other than Smalls. The thirteen year old was the best player on his team. He loved to train with his big brothers. Almost all of them played a sport of some kind. "And I'll be in here for another one if you don't stop banging on the door!"

"Ja-ack!"

Sniper rolled her eyes. Of course that would be the kid's instinct. Crying for Jack.

The young teenager tried to calm her trembling hand as she raised up her mascara brush to her eye.

The second she tried to apply the makeup, another bang hit the door and she jumped, slamming one hand down on the counter as the applicator hit her skin, just below her eyebrow.

She didn't know if she wanted to scream or cry.

The banging did not stop. So Sniper growled and whirled towards the door of the small washroom that desperately needed to be washed. She ripped the door open, ready to yell at the boy who would not leave her alone. "Smalls, I swear ta God—"

"Hey! Hey!"

And there was Jack. Just like always.

The oldest boy of the house rushed up and grabbed the lacrosse stick out of Smalls's hands, holding it just out of the boy's reach. "Smalls, Romeo's outta the bathroom downstairs, grab your toothbrush and go down there, please. Ya got twenty minutes before it's time ta go," he stated.

Smalls rolled his eyes and pushed past Sniper, doing as Jack instructed and rushing down the stairs. The girl glared at him the whole time. And when he was gone, she only spared her big brother a small glance before she went to slam the door again.

But a hand stopped it from shutting. Sniper scowled but knew better than to try and force the older teen out. Her jaw tightened. And Jack sighed. "Okay, kid, what's the matta'?"

"Nothin'!"

"Sniper, don't lie ta me. Ya ain't talked ta no one in days. What's wrong?" Jack asked again. Sniper shook her head, retreating back into the bathroom. Jack just leaned against the doorframe.

"Ya ever think that maybe I have friends outsida' this house?" the girl snapped, reaching for a towel and running it beneath the sink, dabbing at the black makeup above her eye that only smeared, not wanting to come off. It took all of willpower to keep from viciously stomping her foot into the ground.

Though, resisting that urge only led to her viciously rubbing her skin red with the towel.

Jack rushed in, quick, gently grabbing her wrist. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down—"

"Just leave me alone, Jack! I'm fine!"

"You're clearly not fine, Snipes…" Jack whispered, taking the towel from her hand and setting it aside. She went to reach for it again, but Jack stopped her, grasping her carefully by the shoulders and turning her around. "Hey, talk ta me… what can I do?"

"I don't know!" the fifteen year old girl finally admitted, unable to meet her adoptive brother's eye. "I don't know what's wrong and I don't know what you can do! But it's so loud in here and I can't think! And I forgot to do my lab write up n' Mr. Seitz already told me I was gonna fail!" She didn't know when the tears had begun to fall. But it was clear they were going to stop anytime soon. "I can't sleep! I can't… I can't stop shaking n'..." Makeup was running down her face now. She was sure of it.

Of course Jack had to do this right before school.

Her big brother pulled her to his chest easily. Ever since she'd known him, he always had this gift. It seemed he had it with all of them. Something about him was calm. Something about him felt safe.

Sniper was twelve when she'd gotten a big brother. And to this day it was still a mystery how she'd survived without him for so long.

She pressed her ear up against his chest and sniffled, letting him run hands through her hair. She balled her fists up in the back of Jack's t-shirt. He rubbed her back carefully. "Hey, little sister… I'm right here… none of this means the end of the world, okay? Why didn't ya tell anyone you was stressed?"

The girl sniffled and shrugged as Jack ran a hand through her dark hair. "I… Jack, there's so many kids here… I didn't wanna—"

"Sniper, look at me," Jack ordered gently, pulling back from the hug. His sister sniffled and looked up at him with teary eyes. "Just because there's a lot of kids in this house doesn't mean you're not important. Yeah?" The girl tried to look down, but Jack clipped her chin with his index finger. "Yeah?" he repeated.

A small smile spread on the kid's face. "Yeah…" she replied, looking back up at him.

"Okay… c'mon… let's fix you up n' get some food in you… I'll talk to Medda, alright? She'll call Seitz n' you c'n sit in the nurse's office t'day, okay? Just durin' fifth period…"

The girl with the long, dark hair nodded and dabbed at her cheeks. But she didn't turn around without another quick hug. "I love you, Jackie…"

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her head. "Love ya too, little sister…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The book hit the wall with force as the boy on the couch allowed his leg to bounce up and down again and again. He couldn't stop it.

He could never stop it.

"Okay… I didn't care for Lord of the Flies either, but… did it threaten you in some way?"

Finch almost laughed. But he couldn't. He was too angry with himself. "I can't do it, Jack! I… forty pages! By tomorrow, Jack! For some reason, I can't do it!"

He'd read the same page seven times. He couldn't recall a word that was on it.

Jack was typing away on his laptop in the chair that seemed to be reserved for him. Katherine and Crutchie were taking cooking lessons from Race in the next room. Jack was working on some art project. Romeo was running around with Albert not far behind him. Sniper was upstairs on a very loud phone call.

And Finch couldn't focus.

Jack sighed and set his computer aside, pushing himself to his feet and scooping up the book, noting that some of the pages were now bent. "Okay…" he muttered, taking the book and moving to sit beside his little brother. The way Finch cuddled up next to him was immediate. Jack smiled and wrapped an arm around him. "Have you been takin' your meds, pal?"

The silence was all the answer Jack needed.

"Finch…"

"They slow everything down! I just… I… I don't like 'em…" the younger boy admitted, picking at a loose thread in the seam of his jeans.

Jack nodded as his smile faded a bit. He ruffled the fourteen year old's hair and let the book get the cushion beside him. The boy was shaking a little. Finch wasn't the only boy in the house with ADHD. But it was different for all of them. They all handled it in different ways.

Finch never knew how to handle it well.

"Okay… n' that's okay… we can talk ta Mama about gettin' ya some new meds—"

"Jackie?"

Jack sighed. "Yeah, kiddo?"

"When did you start callin' Medda 'Mama'?" It was a genuine question. One that Jack was a bit shocked at.

But he shrugged anyway and really thought about it. "When she told me that would be okay with her, I think… a couple days before she adopted me…" Jack recalled. He'd been the first one she'd picked up.

Only ten at the time. Three more had come after him.

And Medda didn't mind at all.

"That's nice," Finch stated, closing his eyes for a moment. His head hurt a little. "Do you think she'll bring that fella ova' again?"

Jack squinted. "Teddy?"

Finch shrugged.

"I dunno, kid… maybe…" Jack replied, hugging the boy a little closer. "Okay… so… is this all ya have ta do?"

"Hm?"

All Jack could do was laugh. Finch never understood it. Jack was always so calm with him.

People hadn't always been calm with him. His mind bounced from one place to another and he never seemed to remember where he'd even begin. But Jack never cared.

"The book, Finch… is the readin' all the homework ya got?" he asked.

"Oh… yeah…" Finch nodded, shifting against his brother but refusing to pull away. "But I can't do it—"

"Okay… how about if we go up ta my room, where it's quieter?" Jack suggested. Finch froze for a moment, thinking about it. But he shook his head. It would just make it worse. His brain just couldn't stay in one place. Especially in the quiet. So Jack rubbed his arm. "Okay… would it help if I read it to ya?"

The younger boy blinked a bit at the frustrated tears gathering up in his eyes. "Y-you don't have to do that…"

Jack let out a light laugh and nudged the kid. "Okay, kid, get comfortable," he said, snuggling further into the couch as Finch snuggled further into him. He smiled as he began to read the tale.

And Finch hung on his every word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So anyway, she slipped and fell and now she has a black eye, but it's only because she tried to get the ball out from right under me. Spot told me that I was bein' real aggressive. N' that it was real good. But he said I needed ta be more careful. 'R at least sneakier… n'... JoJo, is someone there with you?"

"Hmm?" The young girl glanced back up at the screen. She had fallen a bit out of it for a moment as someone behind her played with her hair. The young dark skinned girl staring back at her glared a bit. But JoJo yawned. "I'm sorry, Bean… I'm just a little tired…" she stated, rubbing at her light brown eyes. "M' brother's here…" she finally replied.

Jack just pressed a kiss to the back of her head, continuing to brush through his sister's hair as she zoned in and out. Her friend's face took up her phone. Coffee Bean looked to be walking around. Jack could make out some of Spot's foster siblings coming in and out of frame. For a moment he was sure he saw Race. That was when he took his eyes off the screen.

That was a discussion he didn't want to have right now.

"Why's he sittin' with you?"

JoJo, sighed and shrugged, not wanting to give any real kind of answer. She was tired. She shouldn't be tired but she was. So. Tired. "Sorry I wasn't at practice, CB…" she muttered, only sort of meaning it.

"Coffee Bean! I need ya off the phone! Ya still got homework!"

Jack recognized the voice. There was Spot. He sighed, but still remained quiet. The eleven year old in his lap did the same. "Whatever… I guess I gotta go. I'll see you on Thursday, JoJo!"

"Bye…"

The phone was hung up fast and JoJo let hers fall into her lap.

Jack didn't speak. He just set the brush aside and ran his fingers through the girl's hair before he began to carefully braid it. JoJo let him, her gaze going blank as she started straight ahead. There was chaos beyond the door. But Jack ignored it. Some of the older boys could take care of it right now. Medda would call him if she needed his help.

While silence was never Jack's favorite thing, he knew that JoJo needed it sometimes. She'd go from bouncing off the walls, being absolutely insane, jumping on her big brother's backs, to being solemn and almost mute for days.

There was never one thing that made the switch happen. It always just… happened.

"Jack?"

"Yeah, kid…"

"Thanks…" the girl whispered, just as he tied the end of her light brown hair. He nodded and reached to turn her around. She let him, practically falling into his chest the minute she got the chance.

He giggled a little at that, hugging her lightly as he lay back on the bed. "You wanna sleep, kid? Or maybe try eatin' first?" he whispered, careful not to wake her up too much.

"I ain't hungry…" she muttered, truly not wanting to move.

Jack rubbed her back. "Okay… when was the last time ya ate?" A shrug was all the response he got. "How about I get someone ta bring ya a sandwich? Just a few bites n' you can sleep, if ya want…" he promised, knowing that the young girl was ready to pass out against him. It wouldn't be the first time.

"But I ain't—"

"Hungry. I know… but that don't mean ya don't need ta eat…"

JoJo let her eyes slide shut. "Okay…" she decided, letting Jack reach for his phone and dial someone's number.

She didn't listen to the conversation. She was only vaguely aware that Jack was on the phone with Sniper. Ten minutes later, Jack was helping her sit up and was splitting a PB&J with her. They didn't talk much.

But that was okay.

As long as Jack was there, JoJo knew she'd be alright. And that was enough for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shhhhh, it's gonna work!"

"Ike, what if—"

"Shhhhh!"

"Oh, no no, I'd love ta hear what Mike wanted ta say…"

Before either of the twins could whirl around, arms surrounded them and they were lifted up. Ike let out a small, "whoa!" But Mike just struggled in the grip.

Ike was easily tossed over Jack's shoulder and Mike was held against his chest. "Okay, you two. What'd I say about bein' in my room? What'd ya do?"

Mike glanced over Jack's shoulder. They'd been so busy setting up the bucket above Jack's door they hadn't heard him slip through the window. That meant he'd climbed up onto his small balcony. "Just a bucket a' wata'..."

Jack laughed. "That's an old one. Racer did that ta me once… but I got him back real bad," he stated. "I don't think the two a' you wanna be on the other end of that," he warned. "What did I say about pranks?"

Ike grumbled. "Ta not do them?"

Jack nodded, carrying the little boys both over to his bed and flopping Mike down onto it while Ike slid down to his chest. "Ta not do them. But here we are, n' I had ta climb up the side a' the house ta avoid gettin' soaked. So, which one of you was the mastermind?" he asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

Neither of them spoke. Ike shyly looked down at his hands as Jack stared right at him, still holding him close. When he didn't own up to it, Jack's gaze travelled back to Mike. "Mikey, it's okay… you can tell me," he said.

"Well, it was Ike's idea-"

"Mike!" Ike grumbled, twisting around to glare at his twin brother.

Jack snickered and tossed Ike down next to the other boy. "Okay, Ike… you've been ratted out. Ya know what that means…"

Ike's eyes widened and just as he opened his mouth to protest, Jack went in for the attack. And suddenly, all Ike could do was laugh. Jack had practiced fingers. They squeezed at the child's sides and tickled beneath his armpits. "Ja-ack! No! Stah-hop!" the ten year old squealed.

"Hmmm,.. no, I don't think so…" Mike laughed at his brother who was squirming beneath Jack and giggling like crazy. But Jack looked over at him and shook his head. "Oh don't think you're gettin' out so easy, kid!" he laughed, before going at Mike just the same.

They giggled and wiggled beneath his hands but he was bigger than them. And a lot stronger.

"Jackie! It was just a joke!" Mike tried. But Jack didn't stop.

Not until the two little boys were almost completely out of breath.

Jack could only smile at them. "So… what did we learn?" he asked, as Mike rolled into his stomach and started to crawl away. Jack just grabbed him around the torso and pulled him to his chest.

Mike sighed but didn't struggle. "No more pranks..." He just let himself be carried while Jack grabbed his desk chair and pulled it closer to the door, carefully reaching up to pull the bucket down off the top of the slightly ajar door. Some of the liquid splashed onto the carpet. Jack didn't pay much mind to it as he set it aside, circling back to grab Ike and head out into the hall.

"Okay, guys, time ta getcha downstairs…" he mumbled, tossing Ike back over his shoulder. Mike turned to wrap his little arms around Jack's neck and Ike simply let himself hang.

Jack may have picked up a kid or two on his legs while he tried to make his way down the stairs. But he didn't mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Specs! Slow down!"

Specs did not slow down. If his brother wanted to catch him, well, Lord knows he was fast enough.

Specs however, Specs would never be fast enough.

"Specs, I got the car t'day, where're ya goin'?"

A hand caught Specs's shoulder and it took him a moment before he was able to turn around and face the slightly older boy who'd just chased him down the school hallway to the front entrance of the high school.

Specs knew that Jack had the car today. That didn't mean he wanted to take it.

In fact, that very look on Jack's face had been what he was trying to avoid. "Spencer, what the hell happened?"

"Just leave it, Jack," the boy insisted, trying to push past his adoptive brother now. "I gotta get home—"

"Specs," Jack tried again, shaking his head and keeping his hand firmly on the other boy's shoulder.

"I just broke my glasses! That's it!"

"And gave yourself that cut?"

To be honest, Specs had no idea there was a cut just below his left eye, bleeding only slightly. It figured. He never had been good at hiding these kinds of things, no matter how hard he tried. "Look, I… I don't wanna talk about it. Can we please just go home?"

Jack sighed. People were filing out of the building, simply walking around them, not sparing Specs a second glance. It broke Jack's heart. He looked at his brother again. The one that got taken in just after him. They'd been at Medda's the longest. Together. And it pained Jack that Specs was still one of the most closed off kids he knew. He never wanted to talk.

Only Medda could ever get him to talk about the things he'd never speak of to Jack.

It hurt.

But Jack knew it was something the boy couldn't truly help.

"Fine, okay… we don't… ya don't have ta talk about it," he sighed, wrapping his arm around the boy's shoulders and guiding him back through the halls of the school. Specs let him. After all, he couldn't truly see all that well.

He held his broken glasses in his hands gently. All he wanted to do was cry. But he wouldn't. Not here. Not when Jack could see him. Not when Henry and Crutchie and Race and Sniper would be able to see him. He just willed himself to go numb as he leaned into Jack.

Jack kept his gaze steady ahead. He caught sight of Crutchie waiting for them at the exit. And he smiled.

But there was still an ache in his heart.

He couldn't help but lean down and place his lips beside Specs's right ear. "Hey… ya know I got your back, yeah?"

The words caught the boy off guard. He paused for a moment, shocked Jack would even have to ask. His gaze trailed up the blurry figure of his brother and he nodded. "Course, Jackie… we's family… I got your back, n' you got mine… ain't no forgettin' that…" he promised, offering a small smile.

Jack just nodded.

"Alright then, kid…"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jack, honey, I hate to ask, but could you check on the baby?"

Jack rubbed tiredly at his eyes, but he smiled up at his mother and nodded as he stood from his chair and set his sketchpad aside. Making his way up the stairs he was careful to stay against the wall as many of his brothers rushed down, loud and rowdy as ever.

He didn't mind. He was accustomed to the noise by now.

The crying child up there stairs, however, not so much.

Elmer was only two. The youngest Medda had ever taken in. And while all the kids in this house adored him, they weren't quite used to having a baby in the house yet.

And Elmer was not used to having so many kids around him at all times.

Jack carefully pushed the door open to the littlest boy's room. He smiled at the poor, crying thing who was sitting all alone in his crib. The tiny boy was wailing, unsure of what else to do with the chaos going on beyond the door. "It's okay, kiddo…" he whispered, stepping across the room and carefully reaching down for the child, bringing him close to his chest. "I gotchu, bubba… everything's gonna be okay…" he promised, pressing a small kiss to the boy's head as his wails died down just slightly. "Yeah… everything's gonna be just fine…"

The child in his arms hiccuped, but melted into him as he gently rocked and bounced him.

He didn't live in this room alone. Only Jack had his own room and he was beginning to think that might change if Medda continued to bring home more and more kids. He wouldn't mind. He knew how those kids would feel stepping into this house for the first time.

Alone, overwhelmed, terrified.

But he'd be there every step of the way, promising them that they weren't just some stray anymore. That they were family.

Part of him envied Elmer. When the kid started to grow up, he wouldn't remember even being in the system. Jack sure as hell did. He remembered getting looked over time and time again. He remembered the anger and the terror. He remembered every bad house he'd been in.

But Elmer wouldn't.

Elmer would never have to go through that.

The boy was calm in his arms now and looking up at Jack. Those big hazel eyes looked at him and Jack almost went weak in the knees. It was impossible for one being to be this adorable.

The boy squirmed, so Jack carefully set him on his feet, watching as the kid's bare feet padded across the hardwood floors to get to his play bin. Jack watched him with an amused smile as the boy grabbed two tiny cars and ran back over to him. He lifted one up to Jack. And Jack let out a small laugh as he accepted it, crossing his legs as he lowered himself to the ground.

Elmer grinned and promptly showed Jack how to play with the car, though Jack had played with him many times before. Jack didn't rush him. He just watched and smiled.

This kid would never have to know what it was like to not have anyone to play with. This kid would never know what it was like to be thinking about where he'd be sleeping that night, or where he'd find his next meal. This kid would never have to fight for a place at the table.

And that was okay.

"Bubby… wha' 'cha thinkin' bout?"

Jack shook his head. "Nothin', baby… nothin'..."

Elmer smiled up at him. And Jack leaned down and pressed a kiss to his baby brother's forehead.

This was Jack's family. And he loved them.

More than anything in the world.

A/N: And there you have it! I loved writing this one! Jack is the best big brother. He knows every single one of his siblings birthdays, he knows how to calm every single one of them down and yes he knows how to braid hair. When Sniper was little she broke her arm, so Jack learned how to do her hair for her when Medda couldn't.

Anyways, thank you FuriedNight for the request! I'm sorry it took so long!

As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't like, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!

[haberdashing]

As If You Were There (3/4)

The statements from Episode 100 rewritten as regular statements, with a fair bit of creative liberty taken to fill in the missing details. 

on AO3

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Statement of Robin Lennox, regarding a stone circle discovered in the South Downs. Original statement given May the 20th, 2017. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

It started about two weeks ago, on the 6th, when me and Jackie--Jackie’s my dog--were walking down the South Downs which is what we normally do before we go visit my mother--she lives in Lewes--for a roast.

I visit her most Saturdays, she does a big Sunday roast for the occasion except it’s on Saturday, so really more of a Saturday roast, I suppose. But she always home cooks a big meal for just the two of us--the three of us really, counting Jackie, but she just gets the scraps.

We’re close, my mother and I, especially after my father... well, my father wasn’t a nice man, didn’t treat either of us well at all, and that could have torn the whole family apart, but I think it just brought my mum and I closer together, you know? It was just the two of us against him, the two of us against the world really. And then when he passed, there was no more “against” there, but it was still just the two of us.

Well, and Jackie. My father never let us keep a dog, so I think me getting Jackie was a big thrill for both of us. Mum spoils her, always gives her lots of attention, I think Saturdays must be Jackie’s favorite day of the week now because of it.

Anyway, it was about noon that day when things started to get a bit weird. Jackie and I, we were walking along--Jackie was off her leash, she just loves to run off the leash--and off in the distance, something caught my eye. I just barely saw it at first, and I have pretty good eyesight, too. And I thought to myself, that stone circle, that wasn’t there before.

So me and Jackie went off to investigate--Jackie’s quite a curious dog, most Jack Russell terriers are I believe--and as I was walking towards it, I noticed it got quite a lot chillier. It was quite a sunny day, I don’t think there was any wind or anything, and I hadn’t taken a jacket with me, but I definitely felt a bit of a chill as I got near it. And Jackie started to walk closer to me, running off a lot less than she normally does, which struck me as rather odd.

When I got closer, I realized that something about the stone circle, maybe the texture of the rocks, made it look quite old. But I was sure I hadn’t seen the stone circle before, even though they looked like they had been there for a long time. I’d taken that route a few times before, at least five or six times at a guess, and I didn’t remember seeing it at all.

I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I do like to vary up my route on these walks a fair bit, try and find new things to check out along the way, so when I saw the stone circle I just figured, hey, here’s something new to look into, good way to spend a few minutes. So I was actually kind of excited when I looked and saw that the circle was just the outside bit of it, that there was a whole stone spiral path on the inside. I didn’t hesitate to follow it, and Jackie stayed right by my side the whole way.

You know those little hedge mazes at places like Hampton Court, how rather than bounding straight into the middle of them you have to follow it through? It put me in mind of that, exploring that maze. The stones weren’t actually that tall, I could see above them if I wanted to, but I figured it was more fun to just go through the maze, try to solve it on my own. Though I was pretty rubbish at it, really, kept getting caught up in the same few turns...

As I was meandering around, I heard the sound of an old man crying. I couldn’t see the source of the cry, you understand, but it was definitely an old man just from the sound of it--there was an age in that voice. It sounded like it was coming from the middle of the spiral, best I could tell. So I picked up the pace a little, tried to see if I could find who was crying, but that just meant I made the same mistakes but faster trying to find my way around.

I was so focused on finding my way through the maze that I didn’t pay attention to much else, but it was still quite a shock when I looked at my watch and realized that six hours had gone by in the blink of an eye. Suddenly I realized I was going to be late for my mum’s dinner, and I couldn’t do that to her. Those roasts are the highlights of her week--of both our weeks, really--and she would be quite disappointed if she knew I’d missed it just because I got distracted by some stone maze I’d stumbled upon.

The thing is, the stones weren’t so tall that I couldn’t see the next path over, but I was in pretty deep now, and I couldn’t actually see the way out from that far in. Working my way out the same way I’d gone in would take hours too, I imagined, maybe even longer than the first time around. The funny thing was, the stone circle hadn’t even appeared that big from the outside, but now it seemed like it stretched almost to the horizon.

Almost to the horizon, but not quite. In the distance I could see a patch of rusty red sticking up from behind the stones--that’s the color of my mum’s roof, bit of an unusual choice but she always liked how it stood out like that. I noticed Jackie was shivering a bit, so I gave her lots of pets along the way, tried to ignore the chill that I could still feel myself, and just sort of... followed my mum’s roof out of there. I knew that way was home, so I took every turn that would get me closer to it, and within a matter of minutes I got out of the spiral.

After I got out Jackie seemed a bit more spirited again, and I went to dinner, and everything was normal enough. I walked that same path last Saturday, though, and I didn’t see the stone circle, though I kept an eye out for it and everything. Seemed like it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared in the first place. Can’t say that I miss it, really, though I do still wonder what would have happened if I’d made my way to the center, who that old man I heard crying might have been. Opportunity missed, I suppose, but some things have to take priority, and my mum’s weekly roast is definitely one of them.

Statement ends.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

MerMay Day Thirty-One We End as We Began

The dock is old, the wood rotten, so the woman sits on the shoreline where the land drops off into the sea, her feet dangling in the water. The beach is empty this time of night, with the full moon high above, so there is no one to see her, or the gathering taking place in the water. Even twelve years later, this rocky part of the beach, supposedly closed to the public, is still not well-patrolled.

“Mom! Mom! Look at this!” Sereia ducks underwater and pokes her tail into the air, spinning around and sending drops of water flying everywhere. Eventually she toppled over, surfacing and spitting out water.

“Woohoo! Great job!” The woman applauded. “You’re really getting better!” She looked around the water, seeing if any of the others gathered had noticed her daughter’s stunt. Most of the merms weren’t watching, gathered around and talking in their strange chirping language. Muirin was watching, of course, and clapping to show his sister support. And so was a familiar figure with a clownfish tail.

One of the merms popped up from the water near her legs, startling her. But he smiled, baring shark’s teeth, and started chattering. “Oh...hello,” she said, smiling.

“Heh-lllloh,” the merm repeated, tripping over the word. He bounced in the water, excited. “Hhoh—hhhow errr ooo? Yuh. Yuh-ooo?”

“I’m doing good,” she said, giggling when the merm’s expression lit up. “Sorry, which one are you? You’re a lemon shark...is it Jackie?”

“Ahkee.” Jackie pointed at himself, then around at the various other merms in the water. “Neep. Mereen. Aimisehn. Ai Kase. Kase!” Jackie waved at the clownfish merm, who was resting half out of the water on the dock. He said something in the other language, chattering and clicking rapidly. The other one swam on over.

“Hi Chase,” the woman said, waving.

Chase sank deeper in the water, cheeks turning red enough to be seen clearly even in the moonlight. “Hi Stacy,” he said quietly. Jackie smiled, and disappeared below water. Chase started, and called after him in the clicking merm language.

“Hey, Chase?” Stacy asked. “Do you...want to talk?”

“Um…” Chase sank lower still, so only his head was poking out. “About...what?”

“Well, you know, things.” Stacy shrugged. “Like why you can speak English perfectly but your friends have trouble with it.”

“Oh. Well.” Chase pulled himself out of the water, folding his arms and resting on the shore. “That’s some magic bullshit, I think. Marvin’s spell to temporarily turn me human, like imbued with the knowledge I needed to be human.”

“But it didn’t include pop culture, did it?” Stacy asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

Chase grinned as well. “No, it didn’t. But like, it skipped all the learning process for new languages. I think Schneep actually knows how to speak a bit of a human language, but not English.”

“I see.” Stacy reached over and picked up the small flashlight she’d brought. She flicked it on and cast the circle of light over the waves. It landed on a pair of merms circling one of the dock supports, holding round stones. The one with the silver tail pulled on a mask, turned the stone over in his hands, and suddenly the stone and the bits of glass in the mask lit up, glowing green. Water spouted into the air. The other mimicked the gesture, and a smaller spout flew into the air. The two of them seemed to giggle, then looked over in the direction the light was coming from. They grinned in unison, and two jets of water spurted over to where Stacy was sitting. She shrieked as they hit her.

Chase laughed. “Nice. Very nice.”

“It’s like a super soaker, but without the plastic gun,” she spluttered.

“Fun!” Chase exclaimed. Then his expression suddenly dropped, becoming more serious. “Hey, uh...how’s Jack doing?”

“Roxy says he’s stable. Not much change.” Stacy shrugged. “Of course, my sister is a fish scientist and not a merm doctor, but I think we’d notice if something went wrong.”

“She’s a lot more...nice than the stick-in-the-mud I remember,” Chase remarked.

“Well, she mellowed out a lot after college.” Stacy shone her flashlight out across the water again, this time landing on Muirin, talking to the octopus merm in the chirping language. She figured that the language must’ve been magically transferred to the twins’ brains the moment they were fully submerged for the first time in their life. That was weird, but not as weird as them being half-merm in the first place. She’d always sort of wondered if they’d have some sort of fish qualities, but those qualities never showed up when they were younger. Guess it had to be underwater for that to happen. “Well, at least your friend isn’t hanging out at the Institute anymore.”

“Schneep? Yeah.” Chase glanced over at him. “I think he still kind of wants to, just to make sure Jack is alright, but that place kind of upsets him.” He lowered his voice. “I think he...had a thing with humans in the past. A not-so-nice thing.”

“Hmm? Have you asked him?”

“Well, no. I don’t want to upset him.”

“That’s fair.” Stacy fell silent for a moment, scanning the water with her flashlight a bit more. Sereia was swimming with Jackie, him teaching her some tricks. The two merms by the dock—who she now remembered were Marvin and Jameson—were still practicing their magic tricks, and Muirin and Schneep had gone on to watching Jackie and Sereia race around. “Chase…I do have a question.”

Chase paled, suddenly looking very nervous.

“Why...why haven’t we talked?”

“Um…” Chase slipped back into the water. “What do you mean? Of course we’ve talked.”

“I mean, yeah, you talked to me when you needed help with your friend Jack. But we haven’t really talked.”

“About...about what?”

Stacy laughed. “How about ‘holy shit I still can’t believe I dated a merman’? How about ‘holy shit I had kids with a merman’? Y’know I half-convinced myself that the whole ‘merman’ thing was some sort of grief-stricken hallucination I had after you disappeared. I mean, I still thought about you. I got really into the ocean because of you. And like...now it turns out my kids can become merpeople—merms. And you have all these merm friends and a merm enemy who kidnapped our kids—holy shit to that too, by the way!” Stacy paused. “And in all this, you...you haven’t talked to me. It’s a little...I dunno. You know?”

Chase stared at her, eyes wide. “I...I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I-I didn’t want to make it...weird. You know? Because like, fuck, I mean it’s been twelve years. I don’t know what your life is like now. Maybe you didn’t want to see me! Maybe you even married someone else! And maybe, I dunno...I-I just didn’t want to impose myself, you know? Like, just because I still remember you doesn’t mean you still remember me.” He was slowly sinking into the water with every statement. “I-I mean, it’s a little weird, still coming to the place every year and still holding onto this cap, and I didn’t want—”

“Chase, it’s not weird,” Stacy interrupted. “People still go to the places that were special for them and a partner they really liked. People still hold on to things from that time.”

“But I mean…” He was almost entirely in the water at this point. “Twelve years—”

“C’mon. You fall in love with someone of a different species, you’re gonna keep thinking about them. I’ve kept thinking about…” Stacy trailed off. “If anything, it’s my fault. I never showed up. I left you hanging.”

“Didn’t you move, though?” Chase asked.

“Yeah, my parents found out I got pregnant at seventeen and flipped their shit. But we agreed four years later. By then, I was finishing college. I totally could’ve found a way to meet you, but I didn’t.” Stacy rubbed at her eyes. “And I am so sorry that I never even tried, even if I sort of started to doubt—”

“Look, neither of us expected the move,” Chase said. “That changed everything. And none of it is your fault.”

Stacy smiled sadly. “How about this. I’ll say it’s not my fault, if you say that you’re not weird or imposing.”

“Deal.” Chase offered his hand. Stacy laughed, and shook it. “Do you want to...give it a try again? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t.”

Stacy grinned. “Another try sounds alright. I mean, I’m moving back here anyway so the kids can be close to the ocean. The city has a great aquarium, y’know. But...let’s agree that we’ll be understanding if it doesn’t work out for one of us.”

“That sounds good.” Chase nodded, and looked back out over the water. “We better get started before Sereia and Jackie somehow manage to knock the whole dock down.”

“Hmm, my money’s on your magic friends doing that first.”

“At least we can agree that those guys aren’t the problem,” Chase chuckled, waving over to where Muirin and Schneep were still chatting. “Anyway. Are we going now?”

“Yep.” Stacy stood up, reaching over and grabbing the duffel bag she’d brought. With some light from the flashlight, she unzipped the bag and took a white, a miniature DVD player, and a projector.

“What’d you bring?” Chase asked.

“The Little Mermaid. Figured it was a good place to start. And your friends can have fun yelling about how wrong it is.”

“Oh, they’d like that.” He looked over at the others and yelled something in the merm language, catching everyone’s attention. The whole group swam over to the shore, with Sereia and Muirin climbing out of the water and onto the pebbles.

“Aaa look at me! I’m a fish out of water!” Sereia rolled onto her back and flopped her tail while Muirin giggled.

“Oh no!” Stacy looked mock-shocked. “Well I guess we better rrroll you back in, then!” She started rolling Sereia back towards the water.

“Mom, no, I’m fine!” Sereia protested. Muirin started to laugh harder.

In the water, the merms were jostling for space, chattering to each other. Jackie slapped Marvin with his tail only for Marvin to splash him with a magically-enhanced wave. Jameson was signing at Schneep, nudging him to scoot over. When Schneep refused to move, Jameson ducked underwater and popped up in between Schneep’s arm, ignoring his screeches. Chase just smiled, settling into his spot.

They got the movie rolling easily. Though it was late, the kids were allowed to stay up, since this was a special occasion. Chase explained to the other merms about the movie while they chirped about how different it was than reality, though none of them seemed too bothered by that. The moon rose in the sky, and eventually the movie ended, and all had to part ways. But they all went home feeling content and tired after a long, fun night. 

[wordshakerofgallifrey]

Butter, sugar, flour

for @rudeflower I am SO sorry this is so late I just. hated everything I wrote but I am finally (mostly) happy with this so!! without further adieu...... Spot/Race, bakery au.

Race tried to push his glasses up using his shoulder, hands too covered in flour and dough to use them.

Of course that was when his phone started chiming in quick succession, cutting off his music.

“Ahh,” he grunted, kicking his leg up to try and reach his phone across the counter. “Jackie! Gimme m’phone,” Race said, still straining.

Jack hefted the two coffee urns in his hands for Race to see as he backed through the swinging door into the cafe. “Can’t. Hey, c’mon, Race we gotta standin’ mixer for a reason.”

Groaning when all he managed to do was kick his phone further away, Race shook his head as he dropped his leg. “Don’t like usin’ the mixer f’r bread,” he said by way of explanation. “Elmer! Check m’phone, who’s textin’?”

Elmer shifted the pan of brownies to set on his shoulder and picked up Race’s phone. “Ugh,” he tossed it back on the counter. “Grindr messages.”

“Wait, no—” Race groaned when Elmer continued out the door. “I ain’t on Grindr. Anymore,” he amended when Elmer gave him a look. “Who was it?”

“I ain’t readin’ your booty call-texts,” he shot back, lifting the pan over his head when Jack suddenly opened the door to the kitchen again.

“Hey, strawberry shortcake guy’s back,” Jack said, ducking under Elmer’s pan.

“Who?” Race asked as Elmer lit up.

“Where ya been, Higgins?” Elmer asked, askance.

“Oh yeah,” Jack said, waving a hand, beckoning him to follow. “You’s used t’ workin’ nights. C’mere.”

Race followed him out the door, wiping his hands on a towel. “What’s the deal with strawberry shortcake guy?”

“He’s some guy who comes in once a week and gets a slice of strawberry shortcake and a small coffee.”

“And?” Race wasn’t getting the fascination. Strawberry shortcake and coffee wasn’t the weirdest order they’d heard, not after the Shapiro wedding cake of 2012.

“Just wait. He’s pacin’ out there on his phone.”

Race rolled his eyes. “Jackie, we’s in New York, a dozen people’ll have walked by on their phone ‘fore I’m finished sayin’ this.”

Jack waved him off. “Hold ya horses, he’ll be here. That’s him.”

Race shook his head, looking towards the door as the bell rang, announcing a new customer.

He had to give it to Jack, the guy didn’t look like the type to order strawberry shortcake. With a stocky build and a suit that looked like it was worth more than Race’s whole apartment, “Strawberry Shortcake guy” looked completely out of place in Medda’s little bakery in the Bowery. He looked more like he belonged… well, wherever guys in suits belonged, he guessed.

Smalls waved him forward with a “Hi, welcome to The Bowery Bakery. What can I get for you?”

Strawberry Shortcake Guy glanced up at the menu behind her and said, “Yeah, uh, the strawberry shortcake an’ a small coffee, thanks.”

“Sure thing,” she said, ringing it up. The whole interaction took maybe thirty seconds, including Strawberry Shortcake Guy paying, before he moved to the side to wait for his cake and coffee.

Jack elbowed Race when the guy’s back turned. Race rolled his eyes.

“Rivetin’,” he said, pushing off the door jamb and heading back to the kitchen.

Before the door swung shut behind him, he looked back in time to catch Strawberry Shortcake Guy watching him.

When he caught Race’s eye, he smirked as he took the box from Smalls, and then turned to leave.

*

“They call me what?” Spot asked from his perch on the kitchen counter.

“‘Strawberry Shortcake guy’,” Race said with a laugh. “You don’t order anythin’ else, and, face it, you don’t look like the kinda guy who’d order it.”

They were at Race’s apartment after work, cramped in his little kitchen so he could practice with the brownie recipe Medda had given him. As her old night baker, he was more used to the breads and didn’t have enough experience with desserts. While he was melting the butter and beating it with egg yolks, Spot was sitting on the opposite counter, where he’d been banished after trying to “help”.

“Ain’t that discrimination or somethin’?” Spot grumbled.

Race shrugged. “They ain’t denyin’ you the shortcake, they just think it’s weird.”

He heard Spot huff behind him. “Wouldn’t hold up in court.”

“If that don’t hold up in court, you’s really bad at ya job,” Race said, turning to pull the flour from the cabinet behind Spot. “You’s just mad ‘cause they’s gotcha pegged.”

“So I gotta ‘casional sweet tooth. Where’s the harm in that?”

“They’s got nothin’ else to talk ‘bout, s’harmless. What I don’t get’s the coffee,” Race said, sifting the flour into the melted-butter-egg-yolks-sugar mixture.

“What about the coffee?”

“You get a small, regular coffee. You don’t even like hot coffee.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Hand me the cocoa.”

Spot hopped down to cross the three foot space with the canister of cocoa. “That? I just get that ‘cause I lost a bet with my neighbor.”

“The redhead? What kinda bets’re you guys makin’?” He’d only seen the girl who lived across the hall from Spot a couple of times, usually stumbling into Spot’s apartment late at night, but he certainly wasn’t paying much attention to anything besides Spot’s mouth those times. He hadn’t known they were on speaking terms, let alone bettin’ ones.

Instead of answering, Spot started coughing hard. “Ach!” he gagged, shaking his head. “What the hell’re ya puttin’ in those?”

Race looked up from his mixing bowl sharply. He hadn’t even pulled out the cayenne pepper yet, what was Spot talking about?

Looking around wildly, his gaze fell to Spot’s hand, where he saw, streaked across his palm—

“Did you taste the cocoa?” Race asked incredulously.

Finally finished coughing, Spot glared up at him. “What?”

Rolling his eyes, Race went back to mixing. “One, I ain’t feelin’ sorry for ya for tasting unsweetened cocoa, dipshit. ‘Course it ain’t gonna be any good. Two, since when do you have a gag reflex?”

“Fuck off,” Spot coughed, swiping a half-full water bottle from on the counter and taking a swig.

Shaking his head, Race finished sifting the flour and cocoa and mixed them into the batter, then reached for the cayenne and cinnamon.

“What’s with the spices?” Spot asked, no longer choking like an idiot.

“S’Medda’s recipe. Double fudge spiced brownies. Double cocoa, double vanilla, add cayenne pepper and cinnamon.”

“Does it make ‘em spicy?”

“Nah, just gives it an extra kick. Makes the cocoa taste better. ‘Sides, she’s from New Orleans, cayenne pepper’s like sugar to her.”

He folded in the cinnamon and cayenne pepper, mixing the batter one last time before transferring it to the pan. Scraping the last of the batter into the pan, Race handed Spot the spatula. “Here. Since you’s a good helper an’ didn’t get in my way, you can lick the spoon,” he said with a smirk.

He bent to slide the pan into the oven, popping up to set the timer. Turning, Race was surprised to see Spot standing so close to him.

With a smirk, Spot swiped the spatula across his bottom lip. Tossing it into the sink with a clatter, he hauled Race towards him, kissing him hard, sucking his bottom lip.

“Mm,” Spot hummed, pulling back a fraction of an inch. “Think I got better use f’r m’mouth here, huh?”

“Hnnghh.” Race’s eyes rolled back in his head as Spot’s lips attached to the side of his neck. Way better use. “We got forty-five minutes ‘fore they burn.”

“I can work with that.”

*

“Hey Race,” Jack poked his head through the door, brow furrowed. “This guy wants to talk to ya.”

“No,” Race said, not looking up from his dough. It was in that in-between state, where it wasn’t completely sticking to the counter, but it was still in danger of being over-floured if he wasn’t careful. “You know the recipes better’n me, you tell him what’s in it. S’whole reason I’m back here, so I don’t gotta talk to people.”

Jack shook his head. “Nah, this guy wants to talk to you specific’lly. Called ya Race an’ everythin’.”

Frowning, Race deemed the dough ready for proofing and gathered it into a bowl. Covering it for time being, he’d deal with whoever was asking for him, then put it in the proofing drawer, he wiped his hands on a towel and followed Jack out of the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow when he saw Spot standing behind the counter. “C’n I help ya?”

Spot nodded slowly, pretending to look at the menu behind him. “Yeah, uh. Heard a rumor ‘bout this place. Seems th’ employees don’t got anythin’ to talk ‘bout.”

Race shrugged a shoulder. “An’?”

Shifting his gaze, Spot looked at him with a glint in his eyes Race didn’t recognize. “An’ I thought I’d give ‘em somethin’ to talk about.”

Before Race could even begin to imagine what that meant, Spot reached for him across the counter. Fisting the front of his apron in one hand, he pulled Race to him, crushing their lips together.

A soft “oof” escaped Race’s lips as his stomach slammed into the hard counter, but that, and every other thought, of the line to the door, the list of desserts he still had to make, Jack, Elmer, and Smalls right behind him, getting the full show, flew from his brain as he sank into the kiss.

Behind them, Elmer and Jack stood with twin looks of shock on their faces while Smalls looked smug.

“Pay up, boys.”

[skaryskylar]

CAMELOT

Pairing: BakuDeku, DekuBaku Switch

Type: One-Shot

Prompt: Twin Stars Week/Day 2-Pro Heroes

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Mentioned smut,  ANGST , Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Post-Canon

Read on AO3

"Don't let it be forgot, that for one brief, shining moment there was a Camelot." - Jackie

           The morning dew has yet to clear. Kyoka finds her gaze drawn to the gleaming drops against the lush green expanse of the lot. It goes out for as far as her eye could see, trickling even into the thicket of oak trees beyond the yard. A wisteria looms over the black gate in the distance, lavender falls obscuring an entire section of it. The fog of the night has begun to lift, but only just. The world remains in a sleepy gray.

Fitting, she supposes, for a day like this.

She turns back to the great white house that stood high above her, taking in the roman pillars on either side of the porch, the double wooden doors, wrap-around porch, and just the sheer majesty of it overwhelms her.

She looks down. 'Trespass and you die.' said the welcome mat. If anything, at least she knows she has the right house. Kyoka steels herself.

The dark cherry wood of the door opens just as she lifts her hand to knock again. A face stares out at her, and it takes a moment for her to recognize her old friend. Age had done him a favor. Grief threatens to take it away. He's blessed with smooth skin, few wrinkles courtesy of his quirk, only a hint of crow's feet.

But his eyes are dull. She remembers them as gleaming rubies-keen, cut sharp enough to kill-always staring at their target with a startling intensity.

This is the color of muddied blood, sickly with dark rims beneath the gaze. Still, she smiles, opening her arms to tug him into a tight embrace.  He doesn't resist. There was a time when such a show of affection would've meant small explosions and screaming, but the morning's silence goes uninterrupted till she dares to murmur,

"Hello Kats. It's good to see you."

He pats her shoulder, still silent as he inclines his head to tuck his chin over her head. His grip tightens once, twice, then he releases her, wordlessly drawing back inside to clear the entryway. She follows. Behind her the door shuts with a creak as she looks about the foyer, quick eyes darting from the marble staircase by the wall, to the glistening chandelier above their heads, then out to the halls. She follows the sound of his fading footsteps, taking her time as she prowls looking from photo to photo of bright smiling faces, a happier golden time.

All the while ignoring the oppressive knells of tragedy that ring out in every corner, rattling her ears till she has to cover the jacks with her hands to reduce the pressure.

"This is a nice place Kats." she calls out, to distract herself. Minutes pass. She doesn't think he's going to answer when a low, raspy voice sounds out,

"...That's right. You missed the housewarming. You were-,"

"In America, covering the war."

She finishes her snooping. Tucking into the dining room where he waited, she looks at how he looms over the bar cart at the other end of the room. The gray cast through the window bathes him in a gaunt light, placing shadows where there should've been none, dimming his usual glow till he himself was a shade. Kyoka makes her way to him slowly, but with each step, the vision steadily gets worse.

Katsuki is by no means an unattractive man, but there's something off. An...unstableness to him. The rumors swirl in the back of her mind but she pushes them away. Time may have made them grow distant, but she still thinks she knows him. Knows what he's capable of. At least, when it comes to her.

"Sorry about that again. Oh, um, just water please," She nods as the man gestures to the drinks on the rolling bar cart.

He puts her drink at the right hand seat of the head of the tables. She take her place with grace, placing her tape recorder and notebook down primly. Gazing out the window, she patiently waits for him to settle with his whiskey.

There are no words of judgement spoken aloud as he takes a hearty swig.

She can feel his eyes on her, and hear the flicker when he turns away, following her gaze out the window to the rolling lush grass, down at the brown bunny who sniffed around in the dew.

"Are you ready?" She asks after a lengthy silence. The clink of ice in his cup is booming.

"As I'll ever be."

Licking her lips, she turns to him, hand already settled on the tape recorder. He doesn't shift his gaze from the hare in the lawn. There's something indiscernible moving around in his eyes.

Clicking the record button, she begins,

"July 25th. 8: 12 AM. I'm sitting with Katsuki Bakugou hero alias Ground Zero, the Symbol of Victory, here at the number one hero's dining room table. It is a gray day, with a fog settling between the trees surrounding his grand estate and dew still lingering on the blades of grass,"

She stops, considers, concedes.

"There is a rabbit in the yard. He stares out at it instead of me as we begin this interview...Mr. Bakugou how are you feeling today?"

"... It's 'the Wonder Duo's' dining room table, and 'their' grand estate. My name isn't the only one on the deed. And if you're gonna call me that the whole time, we're ending this shit now."

Scarlet eyes flicker to her and there it is. There's the man she knows. The vicious one who would bite and snarl and rip things apart so long as he would win.

"What's going on with you Kats?" She feels emboldened to ask now. "Are you ready to talk about this today? Because if you need to shift this interview slot, I can talk to my boss and have him send someone else-."

"I'm only doing this because it’s you Phones," he says. A hand goes up as if to brush through his hair, hesitates, then drops back down to handle the glass of whiskey. "The others, I-," He looks outside once more. "I can't talk to them.They don't know me. They didn't know him. You've seen us at our worst, and I..."

He falls silent and says no more. There's a vein working in his neck. She could hear it. The quick thump thump thumpof blood flow. She wants to give her quirk to him so he could hear it too: the reminder that he is alive to sit there and say what he needs to say.

Instead, she presses the urge into her grip on the recorder, starting anew.

"July 25th. 8:16 AM. I sit here with Katsuki Bakugou, hero alias Ground Zero, at the Wonder Duo's dining room table. It's a gray day but," She glances out to the clouds overhead. "The sky shows signs of clearing....Kats,"

She waits until the man looks at her, twin rubies dull in the light. Kyoka tries to put the ball in his court.

"Tell me about your husband."

"You know the story of how we met. Childhood friends. We didn't get along around puberty, but we were stuck together throughout UA whether I liked it or not. You were there. You've seen the worst of it."

"I never understood it though. Kirishima and Mina were childhood friends and they-,"  

"Were different from us. Or rather Izuku and I were different from the rest....We were always different. Complex. Simple and easy would've bored us I think."

Ice clinking. Fabric rustling as he rolls back the sleeves of his thermal. She takes a deep breath.

"....When did it change?"

If he could, he would gouge out his eyes and swallow them whole so he wouldn't have to see this crap.

"I didn't know they were dating." Mina mumbled into her cup of tea. He doesn't look up from where Deku has an arm slung around Round-Face's shoulder, plush pink lips pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Katsuki sneered.

"They deserve each other," He took a vicious bite from his apple, enjoying the crunch between his teeth as something raw and ugly reared its head within his gut. He felt sick and angry all at once. He wanted to retch. He wanted to fight. He wanted to take Izuku and....and...and...

He didn't know, and that was the worst of it.

"Kacchan! Let me go!" Deku's wrist was rough beneath his grip. The kid had scars, more than Katsuki could even count, all over his arms. He was beginning to suspect that he got them on purpose to look stronger than he really was. If that was the case, he had no qualms about laying down a few marks of his own. Lord knows he was good enough to do it.

"We're sparring nerd! Or are you trying to slack off now that you've got your little fancy ass quirk? You can't take up All Might's mantle if you're not willing to work."

That shut him up the rest of the way to the training room.

"I was supposed to have a date with Ochako tonight," The third-year muttered as he stripped off his shirt. Katsuki looked over the muscles in his back, how they flexed beneath the expanse of tan skin, shoulders covered in dark little constellations.

(And he burned.)

There was a thrill of satisfaction at the words. He swallowed it down lest he say something stupid.

But the feeling was so addictive he couldn't help but do the same thing all over again the next 'date night'. If Round Face wanted to distract the future #2 hero, she'd have to fight Katsuki for Deku's time.

It would have to come to a head eventually. He didn't expect it to take a whole fucking year, but he was nothing if not diligent. When Katsuki opened the door of his apartment one night to find Deku, bulked up from his time as Miruko's side-kick, lingering in his entryway, rain sticking his dark curls to his forehead as his eyes ran red with tears, he knew his work had finally paid off.

It was all he could do to hold back his victorious laughter as he pulled Deku in, peeled the wet clothes off his back, and pressed his advantage.

A hand pauses the recording.

"You broke them up?"

"I didn't break anything. Those two were doomed from the start. Two blatantly gay kids playing 'Heterosexual High School'. I did her a favor. Isn't she with that girl from Class B?"  

"I...You're a homewrecker Kats. What an asshole. No wonder she still shit talks about you."  

"She still hasn't gotten over it?"

She wants to laugh, but as soon as the impulse rises, the situation bears down on her once more, sobering her amusement into something bittersweet.  

"She didn't when I last saw her...But...I mean things are different now aren't they? I don't know how she feels."  

His tiny stutter of breath almost gets lost in the 'click' of the recorder. Scarlet eyes return to following the hare.

          The first couple months were a disaster. They were either called in for work, rained out, or something. Katsuki wasn't one for religion, but he couldn't help but feel as though karma had a gun to his head and was shaking him down for all he had.

Impromptu dates were the only option. They could never plan anything out, so they went on instinct, feeling their way through the darkness of the unknown, sprinting through each new thrill. It suited them. They weren't boring people, so the typical dating process wasn't up to their speed. Their dates had to be thrilling and unusual.

Katsuki loved each and every one.

But he had a favorite. This one stuck out cause it was the least expected, jarring in how its sheer inconvenience contradicted how much laughter bubbled out of his throat.

After all, not many people could say their boyfriend snuck into their hospital room, escaping from his own by the skin of his teeth, to take them on a date. But there Izuku was, a bouquet of 'Get Well Soon' flowers in his hand still dripping water onto the floor, bandages wrapped all over his chest disappearing below loose sweats. His house slippers scritched against the floor as he approached Katsuki's bed, green eyes alight with a certain glint that Katsuki knew meant trouble.

He was smiling before the shitty nerd could even speak.

"Hey hot stuff," That saucy wink only confirmed his suspicions. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Fuck yes."

His leg was broken in three different places, but that didn't matter. Deku hooked his arms under Katsuki's body bridal style, mindful of his own broken ribs, then leapt out the open window, curtains a flutter behind them as they went through the sky. He'd remember the way the wind whipped at his face, how his leg throbbed as the painkillers that made him drowsy began to wear off, but it was the hands clutching him tight that imprinted on his mind.

It didn't matter how much time passed. He'd be able to sketch those hands from memory. He knew their touch like he knew his own. Every mottled scar and each crook in his fingers, he could see them even if he went blind. There was no touch he knew to be gentler.

Even as they landed, and the ground quaked beneath the force of Deku's feet, he was brought down so softly, as if he were a thing to be treasured.

There was a picnic already set up. He could see the large tartan blanket from the sky. (Later he would find out Shitty Hair and Pinky helped out, but for that moment, his eyes were on the tall figure of his man with his broad back to him as he faced the world, spine strong and straight as the tree trunks that surrounded them.) The little details like the picnic basket, his old Victrola and a box of his vinyl were the ones his eyes had missed. He could smell spicy takeout from the Indian joint he and Kiri always went to, and a steadily burning teakwood candle that was definitely Mina's special touch.

A sudden fondness for his friends rose quick, but he tamped it down, fighting back the smile on his face.

He lost when Deku turned.

His grin was cheeky as he held up a bottle of jack, and Katsuki knew that was definitely the other man's idea. No one else paid attention to what he preferred to drink, just taking a single sniff, scrunching their nose and running away before he could convince them to try it.

"For the pain!" Deku said excitedly, knowing damn well their nurses would have their heads if they found out.

Ice clinks in the glass. Kyoka looks at the dregs of dark liquor at the bottom.

           He couldn't pinpoint the exact moment the realization came.  They ate in relative comfort, drank more than they were supposed to well into night, watching the stars flicker into existence as the moon made its arc through the dark sky.

It might've been when they set their favorite record to play and Izuku lifted him up. Strength was always effortless when it came to him. It made Katsuki feel safe. He didn't need the protection but it didn't hurt to indulge for once, laying his cheek against a firm, barrel chest and enjoying the warmth of an embrace as they swayed. His feet dangled in the air, alcohol dulling the pain of the broken one into a mild thrum that was lost to the tingling sensation of something going right for once.

Yes, that was the night Katsuki realized this was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

           He stops talking. The tattoo around his finger is as bright as any ring, a simple neon green circlet, neon green lightning bolt where a diamond would've been. Kyoka licks her lips. The recorder is held tight in her hand, knuckles turning white till she realizes and loosens her grip. The two are silent. She searches for something, anything to say, but is interrupted by the thundering of little feet on the stairs, shoes slipping on the marble floors as wild shrieks rang through the hallway.

"Dad! Dad!"

And then comes the deluge. There are six of them, tumbling through the door still in their nightgowns, bedheads wild atop their heads and sleep still in the nooks of their eyes. They clamber around them, only a few sparing a curious glance at her before turning to their apparent father.

(When did this happen? Where was she for this part of their lives? All these tiny faces were unfamiliar to her.)

Katsuki holds the glass far from their reach, despite the only contents being ice, and smiles for the first time that day, shoving back all the grief and fatigue to quirk his lips.

"What's going on brats?"

"It's Aurore," The oldest, she presumes, starts with a confident bang. "Her quirk won't shut off! She broke the sink!"

As if hearing her name, the girl, the true oldest, question comes in.

Floats in, rather. Kyoka watches in mounting horror as the teen, no older than fifteen, comes over with terrible wails, black tendrils bursting from her hands like whips. But even this couldn't keep her attention.

No, it's the pink lightning all over her body that sets off alarms in her mind. She'd seen this before, in a different color.

"Her...Her quirk...it looks a lot like De-,"

Katsuki's hand slams down on the recorder, resounding slap making them all jump. He doesn't look at her as he gets up, one long lean line of power and authority.

"I've gotta take care of the kids. Come back tomorrow."

Then without another glance back, he takes the crying girl by her wrist, tugging her out to another part of the house. The other children follow, casting glances at her with wide bulbous eyes. Confused, and a little hurt, Kyoka collects her things and leaves.

           The hare is back. She thinks its warren is nearby. It's resting in the grass, uncaring of the exposure as she stares. The fog hasn't lifted. The sun stubbornly refuses to come out. Katsuki answers the door even before she walks all the way up to the great white porch. They go back to the dining room from yesterday. He has a pitcher of water set out for them both. She doesn't even think of the eerie silence until he explains,

"The kids have gone to their Grandma Inko's for the weekend."

"Oh, I didn't mind! You didn't have to-,"

"I think," he says softly. "That she needs them more than I do right now."

There are no words that she can say to that. Slipping into the easy folds of professionalism, she sets her recorder on the table. He looks out to watch the hare.

She begins.

"July 26th. 8:01 AM. Same place as yesterday, with the same fog. The house is empty-,"

"You can't write about them. The kids." He says abruptly. She sends him a look, forcibly erasing the last couple seconds from the tape. "Sorry, but I wanted to make that clear. The kids are...They need to stay safe."

"You have my word," She murmurs. He nods. She restarts.

"July 26th. 8:02 AM. Same place as yesterday, with the same fog. Katsuki sits at the head of the table, staring out the window at the same rabbit." She slides her gaze around the room, settling on a photo propped on a side table. She was there the day that photo was taken. She could hear the fireworks, the applause, the sweet, sweet music they danced to that night.

Twin smiles look back at her, imploring her to ask.

"Kats, tell me about him. If you could tell the world what you want them to remember about your husband, what would it be?"

It's a strange question. He turns at the sound of it, then follows her gaze to the portrait.

At once, he reaches for the whiskey on the rolling cart.

           The day of his wedding, he was nervous. It would turn out to be a fine affair; there wasn't a doubt in his mind about that, but that was only if Izuku didn't come to his senses and realize Katsuki was a selfish, rude prick with a temper and a mouth to match. He panicked. He fumbled over something as simple as his tie. His hands were shaking.

And he started to cry. It was only his Dad in the room, and Masaru was a complete bumbling mess when it came to tears, so the man left and, out of all the people he could've found to help, he found his wife.

Like he said. Complete bumbling mess.

Katsuki held back a scream when the old hag appeared. He nearly didn't invite her. She was the bridezilla of a wedding with no brides, paying strict detail to every fucking thing under the moon. But as soon as he saw her, the tears stopped short. He seethed instead, recoiling angrily as she fretted over him, tying his tie as she did back when he was a child.

"Kats'ki,"

He blinked. He hadn't heard his name pronounced like that since he was child. It turned his insides into mush, soft and malleable, quieting his curses till he was looking down at her with wide, blinking eyes.

(And wasn't that a wonder? She was a giant in his eyes once upon a time, but now she craned her neck to fix her gaze upon his face, weathered hands pressing against his cheeks as they did when he was a boy.)

"You're more like me than you're father. I suppose I need to be the one to tell you how not to screw this up-,"

He wanted to protest, but she pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him before smoothing out the lapels of his jacket.

"There's no marriage advice that applies to all couples. What worked for me and your father may not work for you and my darling Izuku, but nevertheless," Fingers paused, hesitated, then squeezed his shoulders. She pressed a firm kiss to his forehead."It must be said. Your passion is your greatest asset, but your temper is your worst. Never spend an entire day angry. Talk out your problems.

"Let yourself love him. Let that love consume you whole till it feels like there's nothing left but that warm, sticky feeling. And let him love you in return."

           Everything was golden that day. Ivory and gold. He remembered how the champagne flowed freely. It went down his mouth in waves, sweetness sticking under his tongue, traces of it on the curve of Izuku's lips when he kissed him.

Katsuki wasn't a dancer but he danced that night. There was never a moment when there wasn't a hand at his waist, or his own wrapped around a firm shoulder. But, no matter where his steps strayed, he always found himself back in the same embrace, held tight against a firm chest, nose brushing against the smooth curve of a neck smelling of pine and sandalwood.

"I love you," And if he could, he would tattoo the words onto his heart, to have and to hold until he took his last breath.

That day, in that glorious, reception hall of gold and ivory and pale white roses, they had their peace. For one brief, shining moment, there was a Camelot: a fairy tale in which greatness was golden, and they had the King Midas touch.

There would be none like it ever again.

"I was at your wedding," Kyoka says wistfully. "The press was in a frenzy for any pictures. TIME said it was bigger than the royal wedding. You two single-handedly brought a small city in Japan under the scrutiny of the world..." She sighs, recalling the breathlessness of it all, of sitting in the pew and feeling the tides of history wash over her skin. "It was a gorgeous ceremony."

"...Yes," he replies, eyes flickering away from the photo. "It was."

           The honeymoon was in Nice, France. It was strange. They weren't bombarded for photos. Either nobody knew them or nobody cared. They spent their days rolling around in the cool sheets of their hotel room, or laid out on the hot pebbles of the beach, toes in the rolling water of the tide. They would whisper secrets the other already knew in the dark, nibbling on cold pizza out by the shore, staring out at the vastness of the ocean as night brought them into its cool embrace. Izuku was a light even in that darkness. He was warm when the winds were cool, and still as the earth when the tide threatened to plunge them into the depths of the sea.

He could never turn it off, that thing that made him so bright. His moral arc was unshakeable, bending ever towards his idea of justice and peace. A symbol of strength in times when others were weak.

When Katsuki was weak.

Izuku said once that Katsuki was his image of victory. But age and experience taught him that the top spot wasn't everything. There was something greater than victory to strive for. It tasted just as sweet, but it was deeper, more profound.

He couldn't put a name to it but that...that thing was what he saw in Izuku. It was an innate glow. Every smile, twinkle of his eyes and even the smallest twitch of his crooked fingers bled with it.

He thought he could taste it on Izuku's skin. He certainly tried. When they lay in bed at night, he traced the map of the heavens with his lips, following each mottled scar that formed a road, memorizing each speckled freckle that formed a constellation against a tanned sky. With each kiss, each swipe of his tongue, he would taste the salt of his sweat but there would be something sweeter looming just beyond. He could spend hours searching for it, but Izuku, in all his niceties, was an impatient man.

The taste would barely brush his palette before the man would push him back into the soft mattress, set upon him with a vigor, and thrust into his heat till he saw fireworks.

Kyoka takes a long, heavy sip of water, resisting the urge to hide her cheeks behind her hands.

           He thought he could see it sometimes. There was a little girl going around Nice, the local thief. They saw her pickpocket an elderly couple and immediately sprang into action. But she was fast. In a blink, she could cross the distance Katsuki made with ten steps.

She couldn't control her quirk though. So when they started nearing the beach, and she looked back at them with fear, there was only one deadly end that could be made. He tried to yell at her to stop, but that only made her jump. Before he could reach her, she was drowning. He was in the waves in an explosion of red and gold, but Deku came from nowhere, black whips surrounding her little body till they lifted her out of the teeming waters.

He carried her to shore, back against the halo of the sun. Katsuki could see it then, in that moment. It wasn't the electric green glow of One for All, but something more. Colorless and without a name.

(Did that sound insane? Maybe he was insane.)

He rescued that little girl, listened to her tragic backstory of abandonment as Katsuki sat fuming off to the side, eyes watching for any sleight of her tiny hand that could lead to Deku being hurt.

(It never came. Not even in the years after. Even accidentally, Deku was the one person Aurore could never harm.)

Their time in Nice, though enlivened by the incident, slowed back down after that. Deku had made a name for himself, helping out in minor incidents because of course he did. Le lapin vert, or Lap-V according to the hipster kids that skated around. He was a hero, even on their honeymoon, simply because he knew no other way to be.

Katsuki didn't fight it. He didn't mind so long as there was a familiar arm slung over his waist in the night, steady breath on the back of his neck and that deep, profound feeling of safety.

They were golden. They were good.

Then they returned to work, spent years dedicating themselves to the tireless cause of justice, picking up orphaned children and taking them in as their own, picking up falling buildings, picking up society as a whole and carrying it on their backs until....

Unti Izuku died, and all things golden and good died with him.

He takes a moment. She allows it, watching with weary, burning eyes as he slips a worn pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He at least has the decency to get up and open the window, smoke filtering out into cool morning air, blending into the drab gray.

"Thought you gave up smoking."

"...It comes and goes."

 He watches the rabbit in the yard. The rabbit watches him back.

     He had the day off. He could still remember how warm the bed was that morning. The sun's light had cast their bedroom in a blissful glow, one in which he lounged in like a cat, stretching out his limbs with a great, silent yawn.

He had kissed Izuku's forehead, soft and tender with affection he wouldn't dare display if the other man were awake, then went to put on a pot of coffee. The children were still asleep, as they were wont to do those early summer mornings. Half-days at school meant they didn't have to go in until a little later, leaving the house in a comfortable silence punctured only by the scritch of his slippers and faint chimes of the Corinthian bells hanging outside the window over the sink. It was soon joined by the rumble of the coffee maker, and a tired sigh as a strong arm wrapped about his waist.

Izuku mumbled his 'good morn'ng' in the same tone he used every day.

(He didn't realize how much he would miss it till he struggled to recall the string of syllables in his mind, searching for the exact lilt on the vowels, that low tired thrum that sent shivers down his spine, as he stood alone in the silence of the following mornings.)

They had coffee and toast, talking about nothing of importance. Class A gossip. Hero Politics. The kids.

Izuku took his shower. Katsuki washed the dishes.

Izuku left. Katsuki kissed him goodbye.

"I love you," Izuku said. His eyes used to search Katsuki's own whenever he said it. He wasn't sure what the man was looking for. Confirmation? Reciprocation? Whatever it was, he had stopped looking after the fifth year of their marriage. That morning, as many others before it, there was nothing but a warm, steady gaze that made his lips curl and heat climb up the back of his neck.

That morning, as many others before it, all he said back was, "Later, nerd."

(He'd regret not saying 'I love you' more, but especially in that last moment. He'd replay it over and over again in his mind, just thinking about 'what if's. Other words he could've said to encompass the vast wealth of his emotions, ones that could properly define the black hole created in his chest when Izuku left him behind.)

     The call came in the afternoon. The kids had left for school an hour before. He waved them off as they boarded the bus, then entered the study to try and get a handle on his paperwork. His coffee had gone cold when his phone rang.

That was the first red flag. It wasn't his cell. It was his work phone. They didn't usually call him in if they had Deku and Shoto on the job. There was an unsettling feeling in his gut but he pushed it away, thinking it may have been a call about a promo opportunity.

He slid his finger against the cool glass.

Then Kota's panicked voice rang through the speaker and he felt the world slowly tick to a deafening halt.

"-Kugo! It's All for One! He's alive! He's here! Shoto and Creati are fighting him now but Deku is-! Deku is-!"

He had never thrown on his uniform faster. He was about to rocket out the door when his phone rang. His private cell. Something compelled him to glance at the screen, instinct warring  for a say with his mind already calculating the route he would take. Seeing his old teacher's name flash only cemented the dread building in his gut.

Aizawa wasn't the type to call him unless it was something serious. He picked up the phone, flying one-handed as he did so, adjusting his balance so that he didn't crash out of the sky.

"He's at Musutafu General. He's asking for you. I know they're calling you into the field, but he says it's urgent. He says....He says 'All Might would want you to have it.' That it.."  

A shuddered breath. "That it can't die with him."

He was on a course for the hospital before the line clicked. He didn't bother with the door, heart racing as he burst through a random window in a showering of glass. He was screaming; he knew it by how hot his throat was, the frightened eyes they sent his way as he marched through the building, boots scratching up the white linoleum floors, threatening to start a fight until Present Mic found him, clasped him by his old, wrinkled hand and led him into a private room.

His Izuku was there, lying in a bed, with no one around but Aizawa. No doctors. No nurses. No one who could help him. Katsuki was set to turn the entire place into a bonfire when green eyes turned to him and his sparks spluttered to a slow freeze.

"Get out," He ordered the extras. He couldn't even hear them when they complied, blood roaring in his ears like the sea.

(The sea. They used to go out and stare at it. Watch the sun drop below the gentle tide. What he would give for just onemore sunset.)

Izuku drew him close with nothing but his steady gaze. He was beautiful, even like this. Even as blood spattered his cheeks, leaking through his heavy bandages, as his eyes looked beyond him to see a greater, brighter horizon.

(Oh, how lucky he was to get to know God's favorite star.)

"Kiss me goodbye," It was a quiet rasp, easy as their mornings. He knew that tone, that series of syllables, mottled with something deeper than sleep.

He couldn't deny him when he was like this.

Katsuki pressed their lips together as he had countless times before, pushing every word left unsaid into this kiss, seeking a brief refuge in the dying warmth of his mouth.

'I love you...i've loved you...i will always love you'

Katsuki watched it go dim, that colorless, nameless thing. It slipped from Izuku's lifeless body to travel with his soul, off to a place he couldn't reach.

"What did he look like?"

"...Excuse me?"

"You said," She clears her throat, tar and oil in her mouth even as tears burn in her eyes. "You said Izuku was there, but what...what, um,...Can you describe to me what you saw?"

A silence yawns into the morning, stretching between them like the years passed. Katsuki looks at her evenly. When she turns away she still feels the scrutiny of his gaze. His voice is grinding gravel.

"You want me to talk about the body." He says it slowly, as if that would lessen the blow. "How the bandages couldn't hold him together? The way his legs were snapped, the hole in his gut that let you see clean through him? Do you want to hear about how his arms were slipping away from the bone? Do you want to hear about that Jirou? Do you really want me to describe what I saw? Or do the sick fucks of the world want to know what it looks like when a hero falls? What the Symbol of Strength looked like when he finally couldn't carry...couldn't..."

He sniffs. Wipes at his eyes. The tar in her mouth turns to ash, bitter and dry. She's never hated herself more than she does now.

"What happened after the hospital?"

He looks to the window. That rabbit hasn't left.

One for All pulsed in his veins as his sorrow joined his rage in a vicious cacophony.

They told him after, what he did. They told him of how the city burned in a blaze of terrifying glory. How he destroyed entire skyscrapers in his chase till he finally caught up to the man that took the sun from his skies. They told him how the newscasters were forced to stop broadcasting. The Hero Commission thought the imagery of the Symbol of Victory doing what he did best was too graphic for the public.

That was the worst part of it. The greatest triumph of his career and there was nothing to show for it but the shadow of a dead, lesser man.

He didn't remember any of it. He woke up to the blood on his hands, to the burned, ripped up pieces of a man once so feared lying at his feet, features unrecognizable from the dark, scarlet mess of blood, guts, and brain matter.

He didn't remember anything other than the face Izuku wore when he died. The fine curl of his lashes against the paling cheeks, how his freckles stood stark against his skin, lips blue but turned up into one final smile as he took his last breath.

He was golden, even in death. He was good.

"Are you crying?"

     She sniffs, rubbing at her eyes as a sense of shame comes over her. She was meant to be comforting him, and here she was, falling into his reluctant embrace, pressing her nose against the sweet scent of his skin and acrid smell of smoke.

"I'm sorry...I just...I-,' She throws professionalism to the wind and breaks down in sobs, tumultuous racking things that make her chest hot and her eyes ache.

For a moment, she wonders what made her think she could do this.

But it wasn't her choice at all was it? Her supervisor demanded it of her, thrusting the assignment her way thinking that since she was 'close to the man's husband; she'd be able to get the job done'. With no regard for her feelings, or how she felt about the situation.

At the end of the day, she isn't even the one that mattered. This broken man before her-this dying fire-, is a scoop really worth putting him through all of this? Whatever she's feeling, he must feel ten-fold.  He sits alone in this huge empty white house, drowning in memories of a golden time long gone, etched into every hall, haunting him at every corner, and here she is rubbing salt into the wounds.

Oh, she's a horrible person. A terrible friend. She has half a mind to throw the recorder out the window, but Katsuki slips it towards himself before she can even try. Crossing over to the window, he pulls out another cigarette.

"Go home Phones. Get some rest. We'll be back at it tomorrow."

She sniffs once more, collects the rest of her things, and finds her way out. From the driver's seat of her car, she can see him, a slim thing in one of the many grand windows, arms crossed as he leans out on the railing, a trail of smoke rising from his lips

Digging out her camera, she snaps a photo of the widow in the white house. She has to fight off the urge to retch the entire ride home.

"I don't smoke."

She glances up from her glass of water, warily eying the way he turned the recorder in his hands.

"31 minutes and 46 seconds in, you can yourself saying 'Thought you gave up on smoking.' Delete that part of the tape. I'm a pro-hero. The second half of the Wonder Duo. Kids look up to me. I don't smoke."

With that said, he slides the recorder back to her, takes a pack of cigs from his pocket, and lights up, reclining in his seat with shut eyes as the steady waft of nicotine fills the air.

Kyoka presses the starting button, and begins,

"July 27th. 8:30 AM. The dining room table again, with the grand old windows overlooking the yard. The fog doesn't seem to want to lift."

Twirling one of her ears with a finger, she looks at her notes, eying one question in particular her supervisor had underlined three times. There's no way she's going to be able to walk into his office without asking, but she's not sure if their friendship would survive the question.

"Did you regret it? Killing that villain?"

Scarlet eyes blink open but they are unseeing, glued to a spot just above her shoulder.

"Depends on who's asking. You, or the Tokyo Times?"

"...The Tokyo Times," she answers. There was nothing Kats hated more than a liar. She expected him to watch her with disappointment, to turn away and treat her coldly for the rest of the interview, but he simply shut his eyes once more.

"My actions were considered a necessary precaution to ensure the safety of the citizens of Japan," His voice is dull, clinical. She knows a practiced statement when she hears it. They were bland. The thump-thump-thump of his heart was at neutral pace, no emotion spurring it into action. "In order to preserve the peace of this new era, the greatest evil of the old had to be destroyed. I thank my fellow pros, the Hero Public Safety Commission, and all first responders for what they did that day. If he were alive,"

Katsuki pauses. The ice in his cup melts slowly beneath the heat of his grip, diluting the liquor it floats in.

His voice goes low, but does not shake.

"If he were here today, I am confident my late husband, Midoriya Izuku hero alias Deku, would be proud of what we accomplished as a city."

She does her duty in writing down what she could, scribbling a note to get a statement on other involved parties as soon as she could.

"Tell me how you felt about the funeral." She says as her pencils scratches.

"It was a ceremony worthy of a hero of Deku's statu-,"

"No." She lays a hand on top of his. "Tell me how you felt about the funeral."

A vein in his neck jumps. She can hear his heartbeat quicken with the rising fury.

"I hated it," He spat.

          When a hero died, they received what was called an 'Akira Service' named after the first shining man made of light  that decided to take up the mantle of 'hero'. It was a nationwide affair, drawing in colleagues, elites and politicians all intending to pay their respects with speeches, prayer, and moments of silence.

It had turned into an opportunity for influencers to rub elbows long before Katsuki was even a thought in his parents mind. The first he had ever been to was during  high school for Best Jeanist. He was still young then, unsure of what was going on.

The second he had gone to was for All Might. Deku was with him for that one, as they were not only the man's protégées but had recently burst through the top ten ranking. They stood in a crowd of thousands, surrounded by vultures and wolves, with nothing but the other and a few scattered friends for respite.

"Do not let my funeral be like this," Deku had whispered to him, after the third fancy insurance company head came around to cozy up to them.  "This is hell on earth. Hi! How are you?"

Katsuki couldn't reply then, when one of the Commission's higher ups approached with a false, wide grin, but he made that promise in his heart. He was sure that Izuku would do the same if Katsuki met his end first.

  But if All Might's funeral as the retired Symbol of Peace was huge, then Izuku's death as a young, active hero-the Symbol of Strength made into a martyr- was beyond measure. People flew in from all over the globe to 'pay their respects'. It seemed like everyone Izuku had ever met had come out of the woodwork.

(It was strange, because when one of them traveled, the other wasn't too far behind. Izuku had hardly met anyone that Katsuki didn't eventually meet himself, and there were a lot of unfamiliar faces in the crowd that day.)

He intended a quiet service for those close to them. For it to be done quickly and efficiently as possible, that his husband's body would be cremated and the ashes buried in the grounds of their home, beneath the wisteria tree, where Katsuki could go every morning and pay his private tributes.

They stole that right from under him. They locked him up for 'his own safety' for days on end and by the time he was released his private cell, stumbling into the arms of his parents, he was politely informed that 'due to the nature of the situation, preparations were already underway for the burial of his partner Midoriya Izuku hero alias Deku, if we would like to be a part he would be expected to show up at the following address in the morning dressed appropriately for the followings series of events-'

     Sorrow didn't taste bitter. He wasn't sure where that idea came from, but he knew it was wrong. It tasted like nothing. It tasted like his taste buds shutting down before the rest of his body, like a muggy fog he was constantly stumbling through, blind to the path, reaching out to find his way.

Sorrow tasted like what it meant to lose, and to be lost all at once.

His only grace was that he wasn't alone through this. He had his parents behind him, Inko at his side weeping into his shoulder, the kids with bowed heads and red eyes. All gathered around the oakwood casket that was still and quiet, muted in the wake of the winter sun.

He had his friends. Eijirou would maintain his quirk for as long as he needed to, beating back paparazzi with his gentle sternness as they made their procession through the streets. Sero blocked off a 'safe' area for family and friends during the service, tape strong with Kaminari's electricity latched onto it, crackling when anyone got too close without Eijirou's go-ahead.

Mina had organized what she could. Whatever control she, Inko and Mitsuki could wrestle from the Hero Public Safety commission, they did. She was the one that stressed over the tiny details, of white roses vs calla lillies and the order of speeches, that made sure the family was the first to be notified of everything that went on, that argued on their behalf when they couldn't keep up and halted the entire process until they agreed to release Katsuki, that they acknowledged that he needed to be there.

She, and the rest of the squad had-.

"Are you crying again Phones?"

"I am so, so sorry Kats. You needed me and I...I didn't show up. I missed it," She heaves through a sob, ears filled with a static that made her head hurt with something other than a deep-rooted resentment. He doesn't look her in the eyes. His heartbeat increases. She feels his toes tapping against the floor as he struggles to find the words to say.

(And here she was again, acting selfishly when Kats was the one who needed the help. When had she become this person?)

"It's not your fault. You had work-."

"That's no excuse. You went to him when he needed you. Mina dropped a modeling gig in the middle of Rome to come home."

"What you do is a little more important than-,"

"No." She brings her hands to the table, eyes willing him to look at her, to see how serious she was. It's not until dim scarlet flicker to her watery gaze that she continues, "I want to fix this. Please tell me how to fix it."

"...You can't bring him back."

"I would if I could."

"I know, but you can't." His cigarette is snuffed out against the marble floors, ash ground out under his heel. He pulls out a pack of tissues from his pocket and an envelope along with it.

"If you really want to help me out, publish this letter along with the article." he says. The white glides along the table, easy as a leaf on the wind. Curious, she unfolds it, wiping away the lingering blur of tears. Voice clear in the silence, she begins to read,

"...And it is with great pride and sense of accomplishment that I announce my retirement from the hero profession for good. It is evident now, more than ever, that the world is ready for a new era of peace, and I look forward to seizing my final great victory by raising those heroes. Yours, in service....Bakugou Katsuki hero alias Ground Zero....What the hellis this?"

"A resignation letter," Kyoka says to her supervisor, wincing. She hates it when he yells; the decibel levels are horrible on her ears. She gets the shakes, tucking herself in tighter.

"There's no way the Hero Commission is going to let their new #1 retire! Has his agency even approved this? We're not publishing this shit! They'll have my head! I asked you to go out there and get me a story Jirou! Not whatever this is!"

The letter is thrown into the air as his hand slams onto his desk.

"I can't believe this! You were chosen because I thought you'd be able to play on his weaknesses! I thought you could make him spill his secrets! A hero gone insane! The Widow: A Murderer! That was the angle I wanted then you come back here with this piece that makes him seem so-! ...So human! That savage Bakugou Katsuki! Our Symbol of Victory! No, you go back to that bastard's house and-"

She watches him rant. How his cheeks turn red with his rage. How fast his heart beats as he begins to fully get into the swing of it.

And she thinks back. She remembers how excited she was when she first got this job, how the squad had thrown her such a huge party. She remembers how proud of her Denki was and how he kissed her that night.

She remembers how the first date she had to blow off turned into twenty. The loneliness she felt when he finally broke up with her, swearing to always be friends. But she wasn't seeing much of her friends either. Then she started travelling abroad.

People started getting married (she's still alone.)

People started having kids (does she still have a chance now at 42?)

Then people started dying, and she was filled with nothing more than regret. The man is still screaming at her but, for the first time in her life, the world goes quiet.

"I quit." Kyoka says.

Collecting her things, she snatches the article out of the man's hands and walks out. The sound of the door slamming on his spluttering gives her a little thrill. She can't help but grin, kicking her feet into a little skip as she goes through the doors, and breathes in the fresh air of freedom.

As for her article , she publishes it anonymously with Put Your Hands Up News.

Her alias? Phones. It fits her she thinks.

The Priest: There comes a time in man's search for meaning when one realizes that there are no answers. And when you come to that, horrible unavoidable realization, you accept it or you kill yourself. Or you simply stop searching...I have lived a blessed life. And yet every night, when I climb into bed, turn off the lights, and stare into the dark, I wonder...'Is this all there is?'

Jackie Kennedy:...You wonder?

The Priest: Every soul on this planet does. But then, when morning comes, we all wake up and make a pot of coffee.  

-Jackie

     Miles away from the rush of the city, Katsuki sits on his porch, water and a cigarette in hand. That damn rabbit is back again. Doing nothing. Looking at him.

He stares right back.

Inside, the children are playing. Their shouts and laughter ring high in the air, over the bluster of the early autumn winds. He thinks the noise will scare the rabbit away but it perks up, craning its ears to listen. It looks at him once more, nose twitching and black eyes curious. He nods at it, then, for a brief ludicrous moment, thinks he sees it smile.

"Later nerd," he says. (Because, even after all the 'what ifs', it turns out that there are no words more fitting than those two.)

Katsuki watches it as it hops back to the cover of the forest, disappearing under the lavender falls of the wisteria tree. There was a certain lightness in his heart with each step the thing took.  Snuffing out his cigarette, he lingers on the steps of the porch as the children wander out to join him. They run barefoot in the wet grass.

He waits. He watches.

They scream. They laugh. They look to him with great expectations.

Katsuki slips off his shoes and goes to join his children in the cool, morning dew. The fog lifts within the hour. The sun is out by noon.

The day is golden.