#glad this is what i did to christen my new sketchbook
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irl · 1 year ago
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bro what the fuck is that…….. what the fuck IS that……..
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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago
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Learning to Love (Preath x Adopted Teen!Reader)
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Request: could you do something where christen and Tobin adopt teenage r whose been through a lot and shows her how to accept love or something fluffy and angsty like that
Pt 2
Author’s Note: So this was really difficult for me to write for some reason. it’s also super long, but I wanted to include several learning moments. I’m going to put a warning on this for mentions of abuse, but nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this! Send me Requests, Questions, or if you just wanna say Hi! Let me know what you think, your comments mean the world to me. 
You woke with a start, a cold sweat covering your entire body, your breathing heavy, and your brain trying to remember where you were. You clutched at the old hoodie you were wearing, pulling the collar to your nose and breathing in Tobin’s soothing scent. 
You had stolen the Thorns sweater awhile ago and never given it back. You found comfort in one of the several items that had become your own the 8 months that you had been with the women. 
You had immediately clicked with Tobin. Her overall laid back demeanor had set you at ease. Your mutual love of art always gave you talking points, whenever you actually felt like talking. But she never pushed, she was just as comfortable in silence as she was when you were conversing about art. 
It had taken you a little longer to become comfortable around Christen. She was the observant one. The one who always knew when you weren’t telling them the whole truth. The one who always pressed you to explain why you felt the way that you did, and at first that had unnerved you. She wasn’t pushy, but she had a way of getting you to open up that terrified you. 
You were like Tobin in the fact that you were never very good with words. You didn’t know how to articulate your feelings verbally, and the more… positive emotions confused you. Your parents had both been drug addicts, more interested in their respective highs than your actual wellbeing, or teaching you what affection was. You had only been removed from the home after your mother had tried to sell you to an undercover cop in exchange for drugs. You had spent the next 10 years bouncing around through the foster system, with each home only building on the scars that the last had left behind. 
Then by some miracle, you had met Christen and Tobin, who seemed determined to teach you about the happier emotions. The emotions that you didn’t understand. Hell, you had nearly jumped out of your skin the first time one of them tried to touch you. The going was slow, but it wasn’t in their nature to give up. 
You glanced at the clock, sighing at the blinking 4:40 that you found there. It was too early to be up, but you didn’t know if you could go back to sleep after your dream (memory?). You sighed, sliding out of bed and heading for the one room in the apartment that you knew could help you. The room that both women had made sure you knew was open 24/7 the moment they found out about your propensity for art. 
You were so engrossed in your project that you didn’t hear the door to Tobin’s studio open. She looked you over from the door, watching as you traced one of her canvases with a dark charcoal color. The painting before you was striking. A perfect rendition of a man's face over a cowering form. The only happy portion of the canvass was a warm red in the distance. 
“Hey kid, what ya up to?” She asked quietly, don’t her best not to startle you. You jumped anyway, dropping the paintbrush with a loud crash. 
“I’m sorry I- I-I didn’t…” you stuttered turning to face her, your cheeks very red. She held up a hand to stop you. She wanted to say that this response was unusual, but it wasn’t. Your go-to was to immediately apologize for whatever. 
“Slow down kid, we told you that you could use this room whenever you wanted,” She soothed, moving to stand beside you and rubbing soothing circles on your back. Your shoulders relaxed, and your gaze returned to your masterpiece. 
“Okay,” You breathed out. 
“It’s really good,” She said in awe, taking in the detail of the piece. Your lips twitched up slightly, and Tobin was glad you didn’t try and fight her on it. You weren’t used to complements without strings, and they were still teaching you to accept them. 
“Thanks, I couldn’t get it out of my head,” You mumbled, biting your lip, shaking your head slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, and Tobin resisted the urge to laugh when a red paint line followed the path of your hand. 
“Nightmare?” She questioned as casually as she could. Yes, she had read your file, but she wanted to hear about your experiences from you when you were ready. So far the only thing you had told them was that the man you kept drawing was father number 4. 
“Mmm,” You hummed back, tilting your head to the side. 
“You know you can always come to get me or Chris if you’re too scared to go back to sleep,” Tobin asked for what probably was the millionth time. You gave her a slight nod. People always said that but the moment you started asking for things, the moment you became more work than what you were worth, they would throw you away. 
There was a beat of silence between the two of you, and you felt the urge to finally tell her more about the painting. About why he was always so much bigger than you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to find the right words. Tobin shot you an encouraging smile. 
“Hey, you two breakfast-“Christen’s voice called out before you could divulge any secretes, before cutting itself off “whoa baby this is fantastic,” She said the second she saw the painting.
You pulled your lips into a tight line and nodded your thanks, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a hug. You buried your face in her shoulder, taking in gulps of her scent, allowing it to soothe you. She wound her arms tighter around you, running careful fingers through your hair. 
You had taken a long time to warm up to her, but you loved her cuddles, and this was a typical good morning gesture after a hard night. 
“Can I ask you a question?” Christen questioned softly, her and Tobin’s hands running circles on you back.
“Hmmm,” was your only response to her, not willing to leave your new favorite hiding spot yet. 
“You’ve told us about this part, but what’s this?” She asked, pointing to the bright spot that was a new addition to the image the women had become very familiar with. You had known this part was coming. It was part of your therapy, to explain some parts of the painting to them. It was difficult, but in the end, it helped. It made everything a little less scary. 
You but your lip in thought. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what the bright light was. 
“It’s-, I’m always trying to get to it. I know that whatever’s behind the door is… safe? That’s not the word, it’s more than that it’s… I don’t know how to explain it,” you stuttered out, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration. You were good at naming the negative emotions, but oftentimes the happy ones evaded you.“I don’t know what’s behind it, only that I need it,”  
“That’s ok baby, wanna come eat some pancakes?” Christen sent you a blinding smile, and Tobin Laughed as your face lit up. You loved pancakes. 
“Can I finish it?” You asked hesitantly. You hated leaving things half-done.  
“Yeah baby, come find us when you’re done,” Tobin nodded, patting your back before they both took their leave. 
You watched them go. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you knew they cared for you in a way you had never experienced before. 
****
Camp was an… experience, and meeting so many new people was frightening, but Tobin and Christen had kept their promise to always protect you. The team had been understanding about your aversion to touch and never pressured you to join in their shenanigans. They also gave you more people to draw. 
You sighed leaning back against the bench that was acting as your backrest, pulling your knees closer to your chest and digging your feet into the grass of the practice field. You rested the black sketchbook that had always been your companion on your knees, bringing it closer to your face. You held your pencil between your teeth, your eyes flicking between the fine lines sketched on the page and the two women who were depicted. You were sure that the realistic picture was almost done, but something was missing. Something you couldn’t put your finger on. 
“What ya go there kiddo,” Christen asked, stopping several feet away from you and gesturing to the space beside you. You sent her a careful nod, and she sat down a few feet away from you on the turf. 
That was one thing that you appreciated about the women, they always came down to your level to make you feel more comfortable.
“It’s Becky and Alyssa, but something’s not right,” You mumbled, scooting closer to the woman, who smiled softly at you. 
“I’m not a sketch artist, but I could check it out if you want,” She offered, bringing her hand up to rub your back. Her smile widened when you didn’t immediately flinch away at the contact.
 It was a slow process, but little by little they were showing you how nice human touch could be. You loved morning cuddles, but you only liked touches that you initiated. You bit your lip in thought and sent the woman a very tiny nod, before carefully sliding over the book. A small gasp left her lips when eyes landed in the pencil sketch.
“This is incredible,” Christen said in awe, her fingers running lightly over the near-perfect replicas of her teammates. You shrugged, your eyebrows furrowing. 
“Something’s missing, but I don’t know what. Like it doesn’t feel right,” You murmured, glaring at the sketch in frustration. The picture was missing the key element that would make it come to life on the page. You didn’t know what it was, so how could you add it?
Christen glanced up at you. You rested your chin on your knees, hugging your legs, knowing that there would be no way of completely getting out of this conversation. You didn’t typically bring up your feelings, and Christen wasn’t one to let that go. 
“Why doesn’t it feel right?” She questioned softly, bringing her hand up to gently smooth out the wrinkles in your forehead, and run her thumb down your cheek. You sighed and tilted your head into her hand just slightly. 
“It’s just…” you stuttered, trying to find the words to describe the women. It wasn’t just one thing. It was how their bodies always seemed connected, even from across the field. How their eyes always seemed to be on each other. How they touched each other with such care. “The way they’re so… drawn to each other.” You finished after a few seconds, shaking your head. It was so much more than that. It was an extremely deep connection that went beyond simple care. “I don’t understand how…” You trailed off, pinching your space between your eyes. 
Your sketch was missing the connection between the two. The ease they clearly felt with each other. The amount they… cared. 
“They love each other,” Christen responded gently, watching your reaction very carefully. Your lips formed an even tighter line. Your childhood had shown you that love didn’t exist, but the thing between the women was so defined. So alive and vivid. Could it be love?
“Hmm,” you hummed, pulling the book back towards you, scratching behind your ear. Maybe it was love. 
Tobin watched you from afar, her lips quirking up at how well you were doing with Chris. 
“She’s a little shy, but she seems to be doing ok with all of us,” Ash mumbled, standing beside her and watching your interaction. 
“Kid has had it rough,” Tobin husked out. How someone could treat a child the way you were treated, she would never understand. Hell, you had been removed from one of the foster homes for suspected poisoning, and you were petrified to eat anything you didn’t open yourself. Your file was as almost as tall as a toddler, and she wondered how you had slipped through the system for so long. 
“We don’t doubt that,” Ali said gently, rubbing Tobin’s shoulder in a soothing fashions 
“She seems pretty close to Chris though,” Ashlyn smiled when you leaned into Christen’s hand, the comfort you took from the contact obvious from the look on your face. 
“Sometimes,” Tobin shrugged. It was odd. There were moments where you were completely open with them, and then two seconds later you would throw all your wall up again. 
“She draws a lot,” Kelley pointed out, joining the three women in their observation of you. 
“It’s the only way she knows how to express herself,” Tobin hummed shrugging. 
“That’s not surprising,” Kelley said, and all the women turned to look at her. 
“she was probably punished for showing any emotions at all,” Ash added with a thoughtful look on her face, and Tobin nodded. She had seen the scars, both physical and mental. Though you hadn’t unpacked them all with them, it would be impossible to hide the marks that would be with you for the rest of your life. It was also something your therapist had told them both in the beginning. 
“All I know is that it gives us a way to start that conversation without making her too uncomfortable” Tobin shrugged. It was true, you wouldn’t tell them what was bothering you until it was drawn on a page. It was your process and that was ok. They were showing you that feelings were ok. “She’s come a hell of a long way,”
****
Your eyes traced the faces sketched upon the page, your eyebrows furrowing because there was something yet again missing. Your dinner sat untouched on the plate in front of you, as you were far too focused on your drawing of the two blond women. 
You felt the presence behind you before you saw her, and you didn’t mind. Yes, Emily was a little hyper, but she was funny and sweet, and you had known her and Lindsey longer than you had known most of the other women. You had gotten to know them on the many times you had accompanied you m-. Tobin. The many times you had accompanied Tobin to practice. The same went for Kelley. 
“Holy shit! Tobs was right, you do have some skill!” She exclaimed, placing two hands on your shoulders. You jumped at the contact, squeezing your eyes shut, dropping your sketchbook on the table with a thump. The noise lost in the general chatter in the room (though Tobin and Christen did send you a worried look from where they were talking with Alex and Kelley.)
“Disonny, remember we had this talk?” Lindsey said as she appeared on your other side, sending Emily a disdainful look. The women knew that you didn’t like surprise touches, it was one of the many rules that Tobin and Chris had given them. 
“Oh, right. Sorry kid. But like that drawing is fire,” Emily jumped back quickly, sending you a regretful look. She pointed to the chairs next to you, and you nodded with a small smile. 
“It’s not right…” You murmured, returning your attention to the drawing, biting your lip. 
“What do you mean, it looks just like us?” Lindsey asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the picture of her and Emily. You had drawn it during the tactics meeting. There was just something about the way Lindsey’s hand was placed in Emily’s back, and how Emily was watching her instead of Vlatko that had been irresistible to you. 
“It’s missing something,” You grumbled shaking your head. You missed the glance that the two women shared. They knew that Chris and Tobin were trying to teach you to open up about your feelings. 
“Like what?” Lindsey asked carefully. Placing a gentle hand on your back and rubbing soothing circles like she had seen Christen do about a million times. 
“It’s something about the eyes. They get this glint when you look at each other,” You said, turning to the two women. Your hands moved animatedly as you tried to explain the thing that you knew was missing. The thing that you didn’t have a name for, but you could see clear as day. The thing that you just couldn’t capture on paper. 
“It’s because we love each other,” Emily explained as gently as she could, and you tensed. As far as you were concerned, love was a myth. A thing people used to give others hope or to justify their despicable actions. Dads 3 and 9 had proved that to you with their twisted definitions, and all of the families that had packed you up and shipped you off had destroyed any understanding of the concept. To think that someone would have such a deep level of care for another, only expecting the same in return was mind-boggling to you. 
“Love doesn’t exist,” You huffed, turning away from Emily’s kind eyes, and running a frustrated hand through your hair. The women resisted the urge to sigh. This wasn’t an uncommon occupancy, but your absolute denial was still a little disheartening, as everyone was doing their damndest to show you differently. 
“You’re allowed to feel that way, but I’m going to disagree with you,” Lindsey murmured, carefully untangling your hand from your hair and holding it in her own. You tended to take out your frustrations on yourself. A habit, among many others, that the women were working to break. 
“How do you know you love her and not something else?” You questioned, staring at the two women. The let your challenging tone roll off of them. They knew you had some deep-seated beliefs and that it took time to change them. 
“I care for Lindsey so deeply that I would do anything for her,” Emily started, grabbing her girlfriends hand and looking at her with so much devotion it almost took your breath away. 
“I always want to be around Emily. I want to protect her and make her feel better when she’s sad,” Lindsey finished, an equally adoring glint in her eyes. What you would give to be able to capture those looks perfectly on paper. Do be able to do that look justice. 
“I don’t, I just-,” You stuttered, your eyebrows furrowing. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to figure out what you were trying to say. Tobin and Christen were always trying to make you feel welcome to make you feel better. Could that be what they meant? “She makes you feel safe?” You asked hesitantly. 
“The safest I’ve ever felt,” Lindsey said solemnly, and Emily nodded her agreement. You glanced over to the table where Christen was sending you a questioning smile. You smiled back. 
Lindsey and Emily shared another look, realizing that your doubts about love had nothing to do with them, but were instead about how you were feeling about your moms. 
“That’s how they make me feel,” You mumbled, looking down, almost ashamed. Tobin and Christen had done nothing but try and get you to open up to them. To make you feel safe and comfortable, and you couldn’t get a grip and call them Mom or tell them that you cared about (loved?) them. 
“For the record, they have the same glint when they look at you,” Lindsey whispered into your ear, pulling you into a hug. You gave her a tiny, not quite believing nod. You wanted to believe her, but how could anyone love a messed up 13-year-old like you?
****
You woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in your hotel room bed. Your heart was racing so fast that you thought it might beat right out of your chest. You clenched your eyes shut in an attempt to rid the images out of your mind. To rid the smell of his breath, that evil glint in his eyes, or the pain he had inflicted on your lower half from your brain. 
“Hey baby doll, you alright?” Tobin’s sleepy voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and you bit down hard on your hand to prevent the sob from leaving your lips. 
“Hey, Y/n are you alright?” She said, flipping on the light, which startled Christen awake. They both took in your shaking form. Your face was pale, and you were rocking back and forth in the bed. You stared unseeingly at them, almost as though you were in a different world. 
The two women immediately jumped into action, Tobin rushing to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and Christen slowly moving to sit beside you on your bed. Her hand came up to gently run circles on your back. 
“Y/n, baby,” She murmured, afraid that she would startle you more than you already were. Your eyes snapped to her and you shook your head rapidly, tears flowing freely down your face. You leaned further into her touch, collapsing in her arms. She pulled you closer to her, rocking you back and forth as you sobbed into her chest. Tobin ran a comforting hand through your hair when she returned, unwilling to coax you out of your hiding spot in her wife’s chest. 
She held you tight as if to reassure you that she was there, and she was never leaving. She and Tobin shared several worried looks, unsure of how to proceed. It was rare that you showed them any emotions besides happiness and frustration. They knew you had nightmares, but they had never been involved in the aftermath of one before. 
They half you between them, cooing soothing words and reassurances into your hair until your crying slowed. 
“Hey, baby can you look up at me?” Tobin asked softly, running the warm cloth over your features when you glanced up at her. You sighed into the touch, unused to the warm feeling that settled in your chest. 
“Can you tell us what’s going on?” Christen murmured into your hair, never stopping her comforting rubbing on your back or her rocking back and forth. You rapidly shook your head, returning to your hiding place. You knew that they had read your file before they adopted you, but reading a second-hand account of events and hearing it were two very different things. 
“Why not baby? It might help to get it off your chest,” Tobin pressed just a little, and she saw your shoulders deflate. 
“You won’t want me anymore,” You said so quietly into Christen’s shoulder that it was almost inaudible. The women gasped. 
“We will never not want you Kid” Tobin declared firmly, as Christen’s rocking picked up to ebb the tears that had started to flow again. 
A choked “Why?” left your lips, muffled by the soft material of Christen’s shirt, and you felt both women tense. You had been to hell and back, and you just couldn’t understand why the women hadn’t given up on you yet. Perhaps it was their competitive nature. Always wanting to overcome every challenge they face. But perhaps it was something else, the little voice in the back of your brain said. 
“Because we love you,” Christen whispered into your ear, and your tears increased. 
“You’re an amazing kid, and you bring so much light to our lives, despite all of the shit that you’ve been through,” Tobin added, wrapping her arms around both of you. You sighed into their touch. 
“Will you stay with me?” You whimpered softly. They made you feel safe, and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep without them. 
“Always kiddo,” Tobin hummed, pulling the covers back and allowing Chris to maneuver you had her underneath them before joining you. You sighed deeply, relaxing at the feeling of both of them. You felt so safe, so protected between them. You felt… something so much greater than care. Something that you had been avoiding. 
As you drifted off you released a soft “love you mom and mama,”. You missed the shit-eating grins that took over both women’s faces, as they had been waiting for this moment for 8 months. The moment where you would finally accept their love, accept their invitation into their family. But you did catch the soft “love you too baby,” that came from both women. 
Things weren’t perfect, but they were heading that way. Sure, it would be a challenge, but they would never give up on you. You were theirs and they were yours forever and always. 
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breakingsomething · 4 years ago
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silver
basic summary: anti meets an old friend.
trigger warnings: abuse, vauge mentions of self harm
ok, this might make no sense without context, so here. this is a long ass fic, so be warned, but it's basically the context for this fic. have fun! :P
dapper was used to anti's secrets.
he knew, of course, that anti didn't tell him everything. he didn't talk about the scar on his neck beyond simply saying "it was jack's fault." he often left during the day and didn't say where he was going. he never spoke of his connection with jinx and doctor, the two of the creator's boys that anti seemed to hate the most. and he never spoke of the creator himself if he could help it, unless it was a sudden, unpredictable burst of rage, an angry fit that dapper would occasionally have to rewind and prevent by distracting anti in any way he could. dapper had to rewind a lot of anti's mistakes, actually. that was his secret. most of the time he just had to hope anti would stay in a good mood and nothing would set him off.
dapper remembered a day when kitten had been with them, right after he'd arrived, when he'd found something in anti's office he shouldn't have. then there was the night anti had brought home alcohol and gotten so drunk he'd started saying thing that scared dapper, screaming himself into a full on breakdown and tearing up his arms. and then was the night that kitten had become marvin again, and anti had gone too far with his punishment. all were mistakes that dapper had rewinded. not that he forgot any of them. not that he was ever allowed to forget.
he still remembered kitten's silence after his discovery, the horrible things anti had said in his drunken haze, kitten's flat, glassy eyes, pale and limp in anti's eyes. funny, how all the things he remembered were the things he wished he could scrub from his memory the most.
so anti kept his secrets, and dapper kept his. anti would usually know when he had rewinded because of the glow of his eyes, but there were days when he wouldn't ask, days when the silver magic lingered between them, heavy and quiet. sometimes better not to know. so they kept their secrets. maybe it was better for both of them.
after the loss of kitten, things had gotten a lot more difficult for them both. first of all, dapper had a bullet wound in his side from jinx, that perfect gunman, and they'd both had to count their losses and run. the home they'd built for themselves, gone. they'd went back a few days later, when anti deemed it safe to do so, but the council had already reclaimed the house and most of their things were gone. their clothes, their weapons, all their various entertainment, supplies and food. all dapper's sketchbooks and puppet toys. anti's radios and laptops. gone, gone, gone.
all they'd been able to recover was one single toy - a suited puppet that dapper had christened "rara" - and a packet of batteries. dapper wondered what had happened to their things. he wondered if they were being well taken care of. gods, he really hoped so. he'd hate to see his well loved puppets being treated cruelly.
now they lived in a small flat on the top floor, the cheapest place they could rent. dapper didn't know where anti was getting the money and he didn't want to know, quite honestly, although he had a feeling it had something to do with the black bag anti took with him every time he went out that was always a lot lighter when he returned. anyway, they couldn't seem to make quite the same home for themselves here, especially with the tension between dapper and anti over everything that had happened. dapper wondered if anything would ever be the same again.
after a while, anti had started taking him out with him.
"it's not safe here alone," he'd said when he first told him. anti looked so tired; sickly pale, bags under his eyes, hands that never quite stopped shaking. "you'll be better off with me. don't want the hero to find us here, fucking bastard. how he found us before is beyond me… fuck, probably tracked us through you." he shot dapper a harsh glare, running fingers through his own tangled curly hair. "seeing as you don't know how to be bloody subtle in public. i should just get shit done myself."
dapper was used to anti taking his anger out on him. he didn't bother giving him a reply.
it turned out that dapper's suspicions had been correct and anti was, in fact, selling drugs and various other bootlegged stuff. weird drinks, unlabeled boxes, weapons. dapper had been shocked to see a whole handgun in an innocent looking pencilcase, deep beneath the tictac boxes and plastic bags. "you'd be surprised how easy it is for me to get this shit," anti said nonchalantly, grinning at dapper's expression. "other people do the hard work for me, getting illegal bull into the country, then i hack it and sell it myself. it's like a fun little dance, almost. goes the same way every time, always the same moves and steps. it gets boring after a while."
"how do you find this stuff?" dapper asked, too curious to keep his hands still.
anti quirked an eyebrow, smirking, and brought something from his pocket. his new shiny butterfly knife that he'd gotten gods know where. "anything is possible through the internet," he grinned wickedly, twirling the blade in his fingers like in the videos he and dapper watched late at night when bad dreams kept them both awake. "all you have to do is know the right people to threaten."
he successfully completed his trick and sat back on his seat, trying not to look too pleased with himself.
so dapper and anti became bootleggers. honestly, that was something he was fine with. without his art supplies or toys he had nothing to do in the flat, so he was glad anti was letting him help out. not that he did much. mostly he just hung around, not getting in the way and being quiet as usual. the deals were always very silent affairs, and dapper was usually able to escape unnoticed. "why'd you bring your little brother along?" asked one man in a low voice as he received his goods. anti had just smiled at him dangerously, dapper mimicking the face he made.
"he's my watcher," anti said simply. "so i wouldn't try to cross me."
no one ever did. dapper wondered if anti secretly wished one of them would just so they could have something fun to do. he knew he did.
it was a couple months of this before something unusual did happen.
the day had started off normal. anti was up early - he had barely slept, dapper knew, he'd heard him wake screaming from a nightmare in the wee hours that morning - and had eaten a breakfast of whatever cheap dry cereal anti had been able to afford. well, dapper had; anti had tried to hide the fact that he wasn't eating by busying himself cleaning out his bag and washing the dishes, of which there were very few. dapper normally wouldn't say anything, but this had been going on so long that he felt the need to speak up. "why aren't you eating?"
anti had looked round at dapper's signalling whistle, his expression flickering as he read his brother's hands. "i - not hungry," he mumbled, purposefully turning away again. "i'm never really hungry recently."
dapper knew that was a lie. and despite all the terrible things anti had done, it hurt to see his brother like this. "lies," he signed, whistling again to catch anti's attention and banging the table for emphasis. "we have enough food, anti. are you…" a realization struck him. "are you not eating so there's enough for me?"
anti's shoulders shot to his ears, but he covered his emotional slip by scowling and making a growling noise in the back of his throat. "no, i'm fucking not," he spat, his shaking voice giving him away. "i don't have to do shit for you, ok? i'll eat when i want to, f-fuck…" he swayed on his feet slightly, grabbing the table for support. dapper popped his lips in distress and leapt up to help him, but anti shoved him away. "don't t-touch me! christ on a bleeding bike, dap, fucking calm it. finish eating, we've got shit to do."
they had been very silent on their way to the assigned drop off point, which was in a different part of the city that dapper never really went, way off the high street near the darker areas of town. dapper had his knife held in his sleeve, rolling it round and round to comfort himself. even anti seemed on edge, dark eyes darting back and forth as he breathed heavily, running his fingers down his own skin. "fucking hate this," he hissed, scowling. it didn't escape dapper's notice how anti's lip was quivering slightly. "hate this, hate this. i asked him to fucking meet me somewhere else, i don't goddamn like this."
dapper wondered why anti particularly disliked this part of town. in any case, they got to the bus stop where they were meant to meet and collapsed to the plastic seats, dapper bringing out his rara puppet to hold as anti began fidgeting uncontrollably, leg bouncing. dapper frowned - it wasn't like anti to be so panicked. "anti?" he signed, kicking the ground and leaning forward to look at his face. "anti, you ok?"
anti didn't answer, just stared down at his boots, face twitching. dapper sat up, sighing, and looked at the surrounding area outside the bus stop. everything seemed normal, just average shops and people and a zebra crossing in the middle of the road. the only unusual thing was the building in the middle of a bunch of others, a building that was blackened and surrounded by construction. dapper watched people skip by it as they walked. very weird. dapper swung his legs, popping his lips absentmindedly.
after nearly fifteen minutes of waiting, anti gave a short cry and clutched at his head, leaping to his feet. "fuck this. fuck this. this isn't bloody worth - i'm gonna find this fucking guy and tear his guts out so i can shove them down his throat and hang him from the bloody rafters by them. we're leaving. fuck this."
dapper hadn't seen anti so agitated in a while, and he whistled softly, running his thumb along the back of anti's hand. that usually calm him, dapper knew anti liked contact from people he trusted, but this time anti pulled away like he'd been burned. he was shaking slightly. "don't touch," he said angrily. "i'm gonna… i'm gonna call my contact, that bastard, give me a second here. walk over to the river if you want, i don't care."
dapper decided to take him up on that offer. he'd seen anti when he was his furious at someone, and it was worse now because it was very likely that anti was in a bad enough mood to actually track this man down and torture him later. he slid off his seat and bounced over down the street behind the bus stop to the river, not going too far so that anti could still see him if he turned around. he knew that, despite anti's uncaring act, he genuinely did love dapper and wanted him safe.
there were a few boats lingering in the water, plus a few ducks and even a swan. anti didn't care for most animals, but dapper loved them. "swan," he signed, curling his hand and making a sweeping motion with his whole arm. "and duck." the sign for duck was an open and closed repetitive hand movement in front of his mouth. that was a sign he enjoyed. he leaned over the fence, making the duck sign again and grinning to himself. the ducks and swan paid no mind, but dapper didn't care. he just watched them, enjoying the breeze in his hair, enjoying being alone.
"anti?"
ok, so he maybe wasn't alone.
dapper whirled round to face whoever it was, the knife in his sleeve sliding down into his palm. the person standing there was a man with a chin length mess of curly hair, wide eyes and a long black jacket over dark clothes. he was breathing shallowly, eyes darting all over dapper like he was analyzing him. dapper couldn't properly growl or hiss like anti could, but he bared his teeth, clicking his tongue in warning.
the man held up both hands, expression flickering from shock to confusion. "anti?" he said again, more uncertain this time. "i - is that you?"
dapper shook his head sharply.
the other man exhaled, slowly lowering his hands. "i'm sorry. i - i must have… mistaken you…" even as he said it, he was still scrutinizing dapper, biting his lip. "do you - would you happen to know a man named anti? or - i don't think that's his real name, but something beginning with a? he looks just like you except without a mustache and uh - he had green hair?"
this man knew too much. far too much. anti never used his real name around other people. he always went by other names, usually starting with a too - anthony, august, axel - but never by anti, how did this man know his name? how did he know his green hair? now was one of the rare occasions in which dapper wished he had a voice just so he could yell all the questions he needed answered. he was starting to think he should kill this man and be done with it.
anti often told dapper that he should pretend to be deaf if someone tried to speak to him in public. he wasn't sure if that applied now, but he made an exaggerated face of confusion and began signing. "who are you?" he asked. "why do you know my anti?"
just as dapper had thought, the man blinked, uncertain of himself. "oh, i - i don't know sign language, i'm sorry," he said. then he screwed up his face, realizing that dapper wouldn't be able to hear him anyway. dapper took this opportunity to quickly walk past the man, blood pumping in his ears, making his way back to anti. before he went back, however, he walked round down the waterfront over the bridge and back again, trying to throw the man off his trail just in case.
anti was still at the bus stop. he had his legs pulled up to his chest, face buried in his knees. dapper clapped to show he was coming, and anti jumped. he unfolded himself and softened his glare, sighing softly. "hey, dap," he mumbled before going silent. the fact that he hadn't noticed dapper had gone was enough to show how stressed he was. "fucker didn't answer. probably bailed, the bastard. i'll find him, i will - let's just go."
dapper hesitated, considering whether to tell anti about what had happened or not. eventually he decided that would be best to let him know, in case the man was dangerous. "someone was looking for you."
anti raised an eyebrow, slinging his back back over his shoulder. "who? my contact? did he have a mullet, awful beard, wearing a dark coat? i'll kill the bitch, i swear i will."
dapper shook his head. "curly black hair, white, weird ear piercing. wearing a black coat. he called you by name."
anti had gone very still. "by name?" he said faintly. "like - anthony, or anything like that?"
dapper winced. "no. anti. he asked me if i was anti, or if i knew you. he said i looked like you but without the green hair."
anti didn't respond. his eyes were wide and had turned solid black like they tended to do when he was anxious or angry. dapper couldn't tell which one it was now. his face had gone ashen, all the colour drained from it. his bottom lip quivered with every ragged breath he took.
"we're leaving," he said loudly. he grabbed dapper's hand and yanked him to his feet again, ignoring his sharp whistle of protest. "come on, hurry the fuck up, we're -"
"anti!"
they froze in their tracks, and something dropped in dapper's chest.
the man had followed him, somehow. dapper had been certain he'd been alone, but evidently the persistent bastard had managed to trail him all the way back here. he was standing right in front of them, panting - he'd clearly ran - and staring at anti with parted lips, unmoving.
anti stared back.
"anti," breathed the man, shaking his head just slightly, chest rising and falling. "oh my god, fuck, it's really you, where have you been, where the hell did you go?"
anti was shaking. he swallowed hard, taking a sudden step back. mouth open like he wanted to speak. "i - don't know who you are," he said in a hoarse voice. it was clearly a lie. dapper could almost hear his brother's heart racing. "stay aw̛͞aỳ from me."
the other man lifted his hands, stepping towards them again. in the silence, his footsteps sounded thunderous. "please listen to me a sec," he said. "i've been - i've been looking for you for goddamn years, anti, fuck, i - i missed you."
dapper was now thoroughly baffled, looking back and forth from anti to the stranger. someone anti had once known who missed him? who knew anti by his real name but wasn't afraid of him? that was something dapper couldn't imagine. it seemed that anti couldn't either, as he suddenly gripped dapper's hand, breathing so hard he looked like he was going to be sick. "you're talking shit," anti spat, trembling. "i - i want you to fuck off, i swear to the gods, i'll kill you."
the man shuffled back, hands still up to show no harm. "please, i - you just vanished and i was so scared," he said, eyes wide and wet. "i looked everywhere but i couldn't find you, then the shop burned down - was that you?" his voice broke on the last word. "anti, fuck, i - fuck!"
"don't," anti choked out, letting go of dapper to claw at his throat, yanking the ends of his scarf. "don't, don't, please leave me alone, i don't - leave me alone. i'm - dapper, come on."
dapper almost couldn't move. "who?" he demanded, turning on anti to sign. "who is this?"
anti's expression contorted with anger. "none of your - doesn't matter, i'm going, i can't be -"
he stepped back again, and this time the other man leapt forward to grab anti's arm with a cry of "wait, please!" dapper fell back as anti shook the man off, crying out and shoving the man right to the ground so hard that dapper heard his back crack.
"ah - ah, shit -" he swore, hissing in pain, but before he could even sit up anti had turned on heel and raced down the street. dapper watched as he glitched away before he could turn the corner.
leaving dapper alone with the stranger on the ground.
he didn't know what to do. had this man hurt anti, was dapper supposed to help him? in any case, the man pushed himself up on shaky arms, head snapping back and forth until his eyes landed on dapper and he deflated, sighing. "he did it again," he mumbled, sitting up fully and brushing his hair out with his fingers. "that disappearing act. why does he always do that?"
dapper didn't know how to respond to that. he suddenly had so much to ask this man, but he knew anti was probably having a breakdown somewhere and he should find him before he did something bad. quickly, he rummaged in his small messenger bag, pulling out his sketchbook and a blunt pencil. who are you? he scribbled, showing the paper to the man. he squinted to read it, still rubbing the back of his head.
"uh - can you hear me?" he asked, and dapper nodded. the man exhaled. "ok. my name's rhudy, and i'm - i… was a friend of anti's. or whatever his name is. i just called him that, ha. i never found out his real name."
dapper frowned. his name is anti. that's the name he's always had.
rhudy's eyes widened. "wait, actual? or... did he take the name i gave him?" he gave a small laugh that almost sounded like a sob. "oh, fucking christ, oh my god."
this was only raising more questions in dapper's mind. he kept writing, painfully aware of the fact that anti was probably going to murder him for this. who are you to him? he's never told me about you.
rhudy sniffed, blinking. "i - don't know, actually. i mean, we were friends, then we -" he flushed, exhaling. "i guess we messed up. i didn't realize he was magic too, and by the time i realized he was already vanishing away. i never saw him again." he bit his lip, clenching his fists. "he burned down the fucking shop i worked in. i just - i wanted to know why."
dapper's gaze wandered across the road to the blackened building on the other side. that's your shop? he scribbled. i'm sorry about what he did.
rhudy was silent for a moment. "are you his brother?" he asked. dapper nodded again, rhudy following afterwards. "thought so, right. he… he never told me he had any siblings." his voice broke and he let out a shuddering sigh, tilting his head back and hitting the wall of the bus stop. "ok. i get the feeling you're - you're gonna disappear too. strange how i can detect more from you than him… will you tell him something from me?"
dapper wanted to ask about what "detect" meant, but didn't bother. what is it?
rhudy lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes, screwing up his face. "tell him i'm sorry?" he croaked. "i must have messed up. some days i wondered if he was ever even real or if i fell in love with a fucking ghost. i just - i've been looking for him in my spare time, of which there isn't much, i just wanted to find him so badly. is he - is he ok? tell me that at least, please."
dapper was still reeling from the "fell in love" part - trying to imagine anti with someone romantically was wild enough - but he tried to summon an answer to his question. looking into the man's desperate eyes, he decided there was only one thing to say. he's doing good, dapper lied. we're both good. and i'll tell him you said that, yeah.
rhudy covered his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. "good," he managed, voice high pitched and muffled. "ok, good. good for him, glad he's ok." he gave a small laugh. "i - don't think there will be another way to contact you again, if i'm seeing correctly. but, uh - yeah. fuck, fuck, i'm…"
dapper's heart was racing, confusion bubbling in his head. all he could think of to do was write i'm sorry on the paper, rip it out and hand it to the man. he took it with shaking hands, reading it over and over.
dapper stood and left the man behind. it was all he could do.
he knew anti wouldn't have went home. it wasn't even "home" anyway, so to speak. just an illegally rented flat with peeling walls and cold, bare floors. no, anti would have gone somewhere more familiar. somewhere that wasn't far - it only took dapper ten minutes to walk to the empty field, another two to climb all the way up. the whole time, dapper's mind was racing thinking about that man at the bus stop. had anti been with him? what had happened between them? with anti, it wouldn't have needed to be much. gods, this was too much to think about all at once.
he found anti on the front steps of the abandoned waterworks.
he was curled forwards the way he usually was when he was upset, face planted in his knees and arms wrapped around his head. dapper clicked his tongue softly as he walked towards him. anti shook his head and ignored him. "anti," dapper signed, despite knowing his brother couldn't see him. he crouched in front of his shivering form, noticing how anti's shoulders were shaking, the small, wheezy gasps he kept making. "anti, look up. look up."
anti shook his head, drawing further into himself. dapper whistled in warning before gently putting a hand in his hair, trying to soothe him. anti made a noise, a small noise that sounded almost like a sob.
"fuck," anti whimpered, and lifted his head just a bit, scrubbing at his face. "i - stop it, ow, shit, christ - this isn't fair, i wasn't supposed to -"
and oh, dapper could see anti's face now and he wished he couldn't because his brother was crying, he was really crying and dapper had never seen anti cry before and he was at a sudden loss for what to do. anti hissed in pain, pulling his sleeve over his hand to clean his face. the tears were… burning into his skin. leaving thin, dark trails down his face and them dripping onto the ground below. dapper suddenly realized where the raised white scars on anti's face must have came from.
"anti," dapper signed again, stunned. "i'm -"
"rewind it," anti blurted. he wasn't breathing right, was staring straight ahead with unfocused black eyes. "rewind it. i don't want any - i don't want to see - don't want to see him."
dapper swallowed a lump in his throat, biting down on his lip. "anti. i can't do that."
anti suddenly turned on him. "fucking rewind it!" he roared, and he'd stopped crying, his face dark and bleeding slightly where the tears had fallen. "that's what you're for! bloody rewind, i don't care, just get rid of it, fuck's sake, fuck's sake!"
dapper's mouth fell open, hands hanging in the air uselessly. anti suddenly grabbed them, squeezing his wrists together. "undo this!" he sobbed, his eyes flashing from light to dark to light to dark. "fucking undo it, dapper, that's all you're bloody here for, isn't it? to fix my fucking mistakes where i mess up! so undo it, and prevent it from happening! and if - if i protest not going out today -" he coughed, dropping dapper's hands and clutching his throat again, eyes too wide and shiny. "just tell me to stay away from that shop."
dapper knew if he rewinded, anti wouldn't remember any of this. he might as well just ask what he wanted to ask.
"you loved him?" dapper signed, keeping his eyes trained on anti's. "he loved you?"
for a moment, the question hung in the air, almost painfully, and dapper waited for anti to slap him. to grab the string on his neck and pull it to remind him of his place. to kick him to the ground and pin him there before demanding he turned back time before anti suffocated him in the dirt. but none of that happened.
in fact, anti almost softened.
"yes," he mumbled, eyes unfocused, tracing his fingers gently over his neck through his bandages. "please… dapper, please. please."
anti was begging and anti never begged for anything.
"i'll rewind," dapper said. the magic was already boiling in his blood, numbing the tips of his fingers and making his eyes well up. "anti. i never knew you could love anyone."
and anti just looked up, dark eyes wet, dark eyes so different from dapper's own, from all their brothers. "neither did i," he mumbled. he barked a laugh. "oh - dapper, dapper. don't remind me this happened, please. i don't want to know."
and just before dapper let the magic take over, he wondered if anti wore his eyes dark because the others were all so light.
silver. a colour anti told dapper about often. "dames, your eyes are silver," he would say. "your hands are all silver. why the silver today, dap? is it a silver day?"
dapper loved the word silver. he'd learned how to mouth the word, forming the shape with his mouth like he could say it aloud. silver was the colour of his eyes, even if dapper was blind to colour. silver the colour of his eyes and hands and tips of his hair when he was using magic. sometimes dapper couldn't get rid of the colour. silver days, were what anti always called them. on those days, when dapper was too distressed to come down from his magic haze and wanted nothing more than to use every ounce of energy he had to push himself back to his creation and further, anti would lay dapper on his shoulder or his lap and play with his hair, sometimes even softly singing if dapper was shaking hard enough. dapper liked silver days because of this. he always got the feeling anti did too. they both needed an excuse for the quiet warmth and contact between the two of them.
today was not a silver day. there would be no comfort for it.
river, sea, ocean. shining pale, silver water rising to his knees. already dapper was tired. time magic took so much out of him, and his legs were shaking, struggling to keep himself up. there was nothing in this black void to hold onto. nothing but water to paddle, pushing time back with nothing more than aching hands that had removed hours from the universe, days, weeks, each drop a second that dapper controlled. power. this was his place. his time. his time.
and they were back in the flat within seconds -
anti's shoulders shot to his ears, but he covered his emotional slip by scowling and making a growling noise in the back of his throat. "no, i'm fucking not," he spat, his shaking voice giving him away. "i don't have to do shit for you, ok? i'll eat when i want to, f-fuck…" he swayed on his feet slightly, grabbing the table for support.
dapper readjusted himself quickly. didn't move to help him this time. instead, he clapped his hands in front of anti's face, making him look up. "you can't go out," he told him matter of factly. "you want to stay away from the shop."
anti paled even further. dapper turned away and left the room.
dapper was used to anti's secrets.
he knew, of course, that anti didn't tell him everything. there were things about him that maybe he would never know; the pretty dark haired man who'd called anti a friend, the names anti used that even dapper hadn't heard, the years with the light eyed creator that he had long suspected anti had loved once. but anti could keep his secrets. dapper didn't need them. dapper was hurting enough without the knowledge of who anti could have been, who even dapper himself could have been.
anti kept his secrets, and dapper kept his.
his brother never asked why dapper had rewinded that day. maybe he suspected. maybe he was too afraid to hear the truth. all dapper knew was that he would have nightmares containing the dark haired man for a long time to come.
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5lazarus · 8 years ago
Text
A Few Harry James Potter Daydreams
Because he is the main character, after all. -After the war, Ginny convinces him to go through his parents’ vault and inventory everything. He finds his mother’s sketchbook, her unsent letters. In this life, he reads them.
-The idea that Snape could’ve been his father does not leave a bad taste in his mouth. It makes sense. He understands that Snape--as much of a shithead as he was--did play the role of strict, disciplinarian patriarch, and Lily’s diary reveals that his behavior in Hogwarts was much in line with his mother’s parenting style. He’s glad Snape’s not, though. It’d be a bit too ridiculous. -He finally gets an explanation to how his mother ended up with his dad: mostly to get back at Snape. Her notes in hiding were evidence enough that it was not enough for a marriage, though enough for sympathy and friendship. -He was surprised that his mother thought she was just a beard for James’ passion for Sirius. But it made sense. When he showed Hermione the diary entry--and sketches--she started laughing. “Harry, honestly, I swear you’re the last to notice anything sexual!”
-Ginny leaves him for Luna. He doesn’t mind, gives him more time to figure himself out. He goes on vacation to cope, but mostly to get away from Molly’s outrage. No wonder Charlie ran away all the way to Romania, he’s starting to get how the Weasley kids feel suffocated rather than loved.
-The Dursleys always wanted to go to Mallorca. He goes to New York instead. -He runs into Regulus Black buying groceries in the Gristedes in Greenwich Village.
-Regulus invites him to dinner with his flatmate, promising all explanations would be given. -Then his flatmate is Severus Snape, looking better than ever. And after dinner, everybody well-lubricated with drink (it’s not that kind of AU), they settle in the living room listening to The Ramones, as Snape tells stories about ridiculous shit Dumbledore pulled and stories about growing up with his mother and even touches on yes, uh your mother cheated on your father with me, I was rather disappointed to see you so obviously James’s. But really, I would have been a terrible father, could never have raised you, as a spy it would have made my position untenable--
-Harry notices Regulus twirling a half-empty beaker of Felix Felicis andw odners what the fuck his life has become, but he’s too drunk and luck-ridden to be particularly upset.
-”Dammit, Snape,” he slurs, “if you’d died I woulda named my son after you! Well...second son. Middle name.”
-The evening is winding down--well, it’s early morning now--and Snape walks him back to his hotel. They talk more seriously about the war, Snape’s bullying, and his mother’s unsent letters. Harry promises to mail them. Regulus regrets that he does--it sends Snape on a bender for three weeks. -Harry stays single for a good long time, though he does go on a few good dates with Parvati Patil (he’s discovering he’s not really interested in sex and dating), and hangs out more with Dean and Seamus and Neville now that Ron & Hermione are all wrapped up in each other. He’s surprised to find the guys never really liked Ron much, and no one liked Hermione--but both of them are both very defensive people, and Harry treasures them all the more for opening up to him. -Sundays are always Golden Trio time, for hiking and museums and libraries and caving and sometimes just watching the children’s movies that he and Hermione never got a chance to, that Ron’s so fascinated by. -Harry sends an owl to Regulus and Severus after after 9/11. Severus is working as a first responder, temperamentally unable to stay out of thick of it. He’s shaken--war flashbacks, etc. Harry gets a note from Narcissa Black politely requesting he not show up in person, and maybe sign his letters just “Harry,” and tendering her regret that the christening of their daughter Catherine Aquila Snape is so rushed by national tragedy that it is impractical to invite their international friends.
-He runs into Draco in Diurn Alley, looking lost in a baby items shop. Harry’s shopping for Ron and Hermione’s first child; to help out, Harry’s agreed to move in, since none of them want Hermione’s career to be slowed down, and Ron is taking night classes to get his muggle equivalencies, to prove to Hermione’s parents he’s not a wastrel working in a joke shop. -Draco holds up a pink onesie. “Imagine. A Snape in a pink onesie.” -Harry picks up a neon orange Chudley Cannons outfit, complete with flashing broomsticks, and very solemnly raises a Snapesque eyebrow. Draco starts to giggle. -Draco sticks to vibrant colors--”If she inherits her father’s complexion...and Blacks look good in everything.”--and Harry picks up his gifts for the newest Weasley. He sends the Snapes his baby broomstick. It triggers Snape pretty badly. Narcissa is annoyed. The baby cries, but it’s a baby, so that’s about all it does.
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