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ultimatetrashyfanfic · 3 years ago

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Non-despair AU! And ever since I watched that thirty minute anime clip with Nagito’s perspective on things, I’ve really liked the idea of him being buds with Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko. And Nagito openly talks about his past trauma on a plane so… what better way to bond than bonding over trauma? Anyway, I love these three so much. Also Komahina because I love them - Circle

(Also forgot to add this, sorry, but it’s on AO3 too) https://archiveofourown.org/works/33483538

Warning: descriptions of panic attacks, nausea, motion sickness, very mild vomiting (like barely any).

Fuyuhiko always thought Nagito was spouting a whole load of bullshit when he lamented about his talent being useless; he would’ve loved having Ultimate Luck right now.

“Haha! You got the short straw, Fuyuhiko!” Akane crowed. “Tough luck!”

“Wait, no! Can’t we do a best of three?”

“Somebody has to sit with them, man,” Nekomaru said. “You guys are already friends, it’ll be a great bonding experience.”

“I don’t want to bond with them in that situation. Because you all know it’ll be a shit show. That’s why we’re fucking doing this,” Fuyuhiko growled, glaring at each of his classmates in turn. Only two were missing, the pair who’d triggered this whole unfortunate drawing of straws in the first place.

“Why can’t you sit with them, Hajime? Nagito is always hanging off you anyway. And Kazuichi is your friend too,” Fuyuhiko said.

“I’m afraid I can’t, Fuyuhiko.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I didn’t draw the short straw.”

“Go fuck yourself.” Fuyuhiko stomped away, his classmates’ laughter echoing behind him. This class trip was already more trouble than it was worth and it hadn’t even started. He was almost tempted to skip the plane journey with the rest of them and hop on a different flight to Novoselic, just to show them. It wasn’t like he needed Sonia to pay his way. But she’d been so enthusiastic about taking her friends to see her home country, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t think of any way to tell her without causing offence. He couldn’t really say he just didn’t want to be stuck babysitting Kazuichi and Nagito on a flight.

It wasn’t that Fuyuhiko didn’t like Kazuichi and Nagito. Sure, Kazuichi could be a real pain in the ass sometimes, and Nagito would go all weird and self-deprecating if you didn’t watch out, but Fuyuhiko still considered them close friends. But the flight to Novoselic was long. Kazuichi could get motion sickness on a fucking bicycle, and Nagito hadn’t set foot on a plane since his parents died on one right in front of his eyes. There was no way it could possibly go well. Fuyuhiko pictured hour after hour of Kazuichi puking and complaining and Nagito… well, he wasn’t sure what the hell Nagito would do. He’d never seen Nagito get flustered before. Hell, that was much more terrifying. He had to get out of this.

In the days before the trip, Fuyuhiko kept trying to convince his kinder classmates to take responsibility for at least one of the other men. “It’s gonna be impossible to help them both,” Fuyuhiko said. “It’ll be better for them if you help me.”

“You could sit between them,” Mahiru said. “And I’ve already promised Hiyoko I’ll sit with her. Sorry.”

Asking Twogami was a no-go too. “It’ll be more considerate to the other passengers if they’re both in one area,” he said. “To limit the disturbance if they become distressed.”

“I’m the one who’ll be feeling fucking distressed,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

Peko overheard, and came over at once. “I’ll take your burden, young master.”

“No, not you!” Fuyuhiko hated the whine in his tone - and he hated the smirk on Twogami’s face too. “You don’t have to do it. You sit with Gundham and pet his hamsters or something. I… I want you to be happy,” he mumbled, blushing fiercely.

Damn it. He could be as bad as Kazuichi sometimes.

There was no way to wriggle out of it. The morning of the trip dawned bright and sunny, and Fuyuhiko’s ticket set him directly between Kazuichi and Nagito. Fantastic.

At least check-in and security went by reasonably peacefully, the walk to their gate quiet. Only Akane and Nekomaru seemed to be properly awake this early in the day, and they stuck with each other. Fuyuhiko glanced at his two friends. Kazuichi still seemed half-asleep, curled on one of the uncomfortable chairs by the gate, watching the planes take off and land in the distance through the huge windows. Nagito was much more concerning. He was smiling brightly… but he didn’t look happy at all.

“Hey, Fuyuhiko, want to know how a plane engine works?” Kazuichi asked.

“No,” he said, but he sat down with a sigh as Kazuichi started talking anyway. He tuned out after a second, though Nagito looked like he was listening.

“Seeing you talk about your ultimate talent is so inspiring, Kazuichi,” Nagito said - and smiled. That weird smile again, desperate and strained.

“It’s nothing. I just think planes are interesting. From an engineering point of view. I really wish I didn’t have to fucking ride one,” Kazuichi groaned.

“Aha, I can’t help feeling apprehensive too. The last time I was on a flight, both my parents died.” Nagito spoke emotionlessly, as if reciting a shopping list, but that smile was still fixed on his face. “But it’s okay. That bad luck brought me a lot of good luck later on. You just have to have hope that things will work out.”

Kazuichi stared at him, mouth open. “Um. Okay. Sorry.” He caught Fuyuhiko’s eye and mouthed what the fuck? Fuyuhiko wasn’t sure if Kazuichi was just now hearing the story or if he was confused by Nagito’s weird behaviour. He shrugged helplessly.

There wasn’t much conversation after that. You couldn’t really carry on your casual chit-chat right after somebody brought up their dead parents. Fuyuhiko kept an eye on Nagito. He was bolt upright in his seat, his eyes staring straight ahead, hands clasped so tight in his lap his knuckles bleached white. With his pale hair and ashen face, he looked like all the blood had drained out of him completely.

Their flight number was called far too soon, and Fuyuhiko dragged his motley crew to the right aisle, pondering where to put everyone. Kazuichi should probably be on the end if he’d be passing vomit bags to some poor stewardess. Fuyuhiko needed to be in the middle, so that left Nagito by the window. He’d have to keep the shutter pulled down.

Hajime passed them on the way to his own seat, and stopped short when he saw Nagito’s face. He leaned right over Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko, ignoring their complaints and curses, and took Nagito’s hand. “Are you alright? You look… off.”

“Don’t worry about me, Hajime.”

“Your hands are clammy.”

“Ah, I’m sorry. How disgusting for you,” Nagito said, smiling. Always smiling.

“That’s not what I meant… Look, do you want to sit with me?”

“Can we move it along please?” somebody called irritably down the aisle.

“You’re holding up the line, Hajime. Don’t worry about me,” Nagito repeated. Hajime looked like he was worrying dreadfully, but he was forced to move along. Nagito clasped his hands again and fixed his gaze on the seat in front, smiling smiling smiling. It was freaking Fuyuhiko out. He looked like he was wearing a mask and his eyes were the only real part of him, swirling with turmoil.

“Hey.” Kazuichi nudged Fuyuhiko’s shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Are Hajime and Nagito… you know. A thing?”

“Mate, you told me you’ve seen them leave Hajime’s cabin together in the mornings.”

“They could just be having a sleepover. As bros.”

“I don’t think it’s that, Kazuichi.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I don’t want Hajime to get a new best friend,” Kazuichi said.

Fuyuhiko sighed. “I think you’re safe.”

There was a pause. Then another shoulder nudge a second later. “So Hajime and Nagito? Seriously? Am I the only person on my own in this class?” Kazuichi muttered.

Fuyuhiko was spared from responding by the flight attendants starting the safety briefing, demonstrating how to use the oxygen masks and the life jackets in case of emergency. He had to admit, it was pretty eerie to think that you could, however unlikely it may be, crash into the ocean or need extra oxygen to live long enough to get to land. He glanced over at Nagito nervously. His arms were now curled across his chest, hands gripping his elbows. His head was bent, a cloud of puffy hair hiding his face. Maybe that was for the best.

“Can you try not to puke as long as possible?” Fuyuhiko whispered to Kazuichi. “I feel like I might have a situation to deal with.”

“I’m never trying to puke,” Kazuichi said, but he seemed worried too, glancing past Fuyuhiko. “Hey, Nagito, you doing alright?”

“Don’t worry about me, Kazuichi,” Nagito said, eerily calmly.

“That’s not the same thing as saying you’re fine, is it?” Kazuichi whispered to Fuyuhiko.

“He’s clearly not fucking fine,” Fuyuhiko snapped.

“Should I ask Hajime to swap?” Kazuichi asked.

Fuyuhiko nodded, but before Kazuichi could even undo his seatbelt, the plane jerked and started reversing out of the gate. Fuyuhiko heard Nagito draw in his breath sharply - then he was the one fumbling for his seatbelt, standing unsteadily.

“What the fuck are you doing, man?” Fuyuhiko yelled, catching onto the back of Nagito’s coat as he tried to clamber over the seats. “Sit down!”

“I’m afraid I need to get off,” Nagito said, voice still calm despite his frantic movements.

“It’s already moving, for God’s sake! Sit down before a flight attendant sees you!” It wasn’t hard to force Nagito back into his seat - he seemed light enough for a strong gust of wind to knock him over - and Souda hastily got the belt fastened again just as the plane rolled onto the runway.

“Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine,” Fuyuhiko gabbled, trying hard not to shout or swear or scream at all his classmates for making him deal with this. “Just sit still and… I dunno, plug your ears. The takeoff part is the worst.”

There was a cacophony of whirring as the engines roared to life and Fuyuhiko would be very grateful for all that noise in a second, because Nagito started to laugh. Dry, hysterical laughter, his eyes over-bright and manic, lips bared in that grisly parody of a smile.

“Has he lost his fucking mind?” Kazuichi asked, sounding genuinely frightened.

“You must really hate me, Fuyuhiko,” Nagito gasped. “To restrain me here… You must despise me.”

“I’m not restraining you!”

“Then let me off.” He locked eyes with Fuyuhiko and for a second the manic grin faded. “Please…”

The engines roared to a crescendo and the plane shot forward so quickly everyone was pinned to their seats with the force, zooming on and on until they could feel the entire structure lurch into the air. Kazuichi groaned softly, shutting his eyes, but Fuyuhiko was far more focused on Nagito. He had his eyes squeezed shut too, but his hand clamped hard onto Fuyuhiko’s arm. Really fucking hard. Shit, maybe Nagito wasn’t as weak as he looked. Fuyuhiko cursed as his terrified companion started digging his nails into his skin, actually drawing blood. The pain prompted Fuyuhiko to try prying the hand loose a little, but Nagito clamped on harder, carving several new scratches. Fuyuhiko didn’t dare attempt again; he’d get his arm cut to ribbons.

When the plane was flying high and the swirling, disoriented feeling had eased, Fuyuhiko checked on both men. Kazuichi had his head in his hands, but he gave a shaky thumbs up when Fuyuhiko prodded him.

“‘M okay,” he mumbled. “Got through takeoff. Gets better when it’s levelling out.”

“Right, good. Try to stay that way, yeah? I’ve got a lot to handle right now,” Fuyuhiko sighed. Nagito was still shredding his arm up, but he could feel one finger tapping for attention.

“What? What do you need? Please, no bullshit, Nagito. I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do,” Fuyuhiko said. He was practically yelling in his panic, and the people across the aisle turned to glare.

It was several seconds before Nagito could gather enough breath to speak. Fuyuhiko saw that awful smile stretch across his face again, like somebody had twisted his frown the wrong way round. “Aha, I’m sorry to trouble you, Fuyuhiko, but I think I might be having a panic attack.”

“What?” Fuyuhiko felt like he was going to have a panic attack too. “Why? What’s going on?”

“I can’t seem to catch my breath. And the cabin has been spinning for several minutes.”

“Jesus Christ! Why didn’t you say anything?” Fuyuhiko hurriedly pushed Nagito’s head down as far as it would go before it bumped the seat in front. “Fucking… think of things you can see or something? Shit, I don’t remember.”

“Five things you can see,” Kazuichi chimed in. “Is he really gonna pass out? Hajime is gonna kill us.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him for leaving this shit to us! How stupid can you get?”

“Ahh, I’m such a nuisance. If I’d known I’d react in such a shameful way, I’d have been sure to take a seat away from all the Ultimates. Why are you taking care of someone like me?”

“Nagito, shut up, this isn’t your fault,” Fuyuhiko said shortly. “Stop babbling on about ultimates and do the panic attack thing. Listen to Kazuichi, he knows how to do it.”

Nagito did as he was told, working through the grounding techniques with Kazuichi while Fuyuhiko held onto his shoulders feeling helpless. Nagito was shaking so hard it was difficult not to drop him altogether. He didn’t pass out, but even after the grounding Nagito looked far from what you’d consider calm. He was grey-white when Fuyuhiko carefully hauled him back upright.

“Are you okay..?”

The smile came back, though it seemed a lot more tired than manic this time. “Ah… I don’t think so, Fuyuhiko.”

“Well. At least you’re honest. Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Physically, I mean. Clearly I see you’re fucked mentally. And please stop smiling like that, you’re creeping me out,” Fuyuhiko said.

Nagito finally released his grip on Fuyuhiko’s arm, his nails coated with blood. He bent forward slowly, carefully, like he was terrified any sudden movements would send him spiralling again, and let his elbows rest on his knees. “I still feel slightly lightheaded. And nauseous. I’d still like to get off.”

Fuyuhiko examined the long scratches on his arm, sighing and mopping the blood with his sleeve. “Well, you’d have a long drop if you tried to get off now. You should cut your damn fingernails too. I’m going to get Hajime.” He turned to Kazuichi. “Watch him for a minute, okay? I don’t fucking care about drawing the short straw anymore, I can’t handle this.” Fuyuhiko scrambled over Kazuichi’s lap into the aisle, ignoring the flight attendant yelling for him to remain in his seat until the seatbelt signs went off.

“Hey! What did you mean drawing the short straw?” Kazuichi called behind him. Fuyuhiko didn’t look back.

“Hajime!” Fuyuhiko yelled when he was still more than six aisles away from the startled man. “You’re swapping with me!” He lowered his voice when he reached Hajime’s seat, but only marginally. “I can’t handle this. I don’t know how you expected Komeada to react to this shit, but whatever you thought, it’s worse. Way fucking worse. And I can’t help him. So go fucking do it yourself.”

“Well, I was going to swap as soon as the seatbelt signs were off,” Hajime said pointedly.

“I don’t give a shit. Look at my arm! Your fucking boyfriend nearly ripped it off at the elbow.” Fuyuhiko brandished his scratched, bloodied arm, and Hajime looked genuinely shocked.

“Oh my God…” He stood up hastily, clinging to the seats in front as the plane was still slightly off-balance. “I’m sorry, Fuyuhiko. I didn’t expect him to panic so much. He never said anything much about it when I asked.”

“Yeah, well, no offence, Hajime, but you can be as thick as three short planks sometimes. So if he implied anything, I don’t doubt you missed it,” Fuyuhiko snapped, taking Hajime’s empty seat - next to Chiaki, thank goodness. She hadn’t even looked up from her Switch this whole time. Perfect.

“I have taken some offence…” Hajime mumbled, then turned to go back down the aisle, trying hard not to catch the eyes of the other passengers staring like they were all part of a circus act. He was pretty sure the whole class was going to get banned from this airline. Gundham had been in trouble already for taking his hamsters out of their little travelling cage - several times. He was insulted by the insistence of the staff that all pets had to be contained, both by their labelling of his hamsters as mere pets and from their implication that his dark devas could ever be contained.

Hajime followed the sounds of more disgruntled passengers to Nagito’s seat. He was in the middle now, hunched over one of those white sick bags, while Kazuichi awkwardly patted his back. He looked relieved to see Hajime, beckoning frantically. “Come help me! I think he’s gonna spew. Weird that it’s not me for once.”

Hajime sighed, struggling to shuffle past his friends to get to Nagito’s other side, squashed by the window. Nagito didn’t acknowledge him. Hajime could see he had his eyes closed, his face strangely calm and smooth, though his breathing was erratic.

“Hey, Nagito? You hearing me?” Hajime called, tapping the other man’s pale cheek.

“Did I drive Fuyuhiko away?” Nagito said, voice strained. “I’m not surprised. To bother the Ultimates with the problems of an insignificant nobody like me.”

“Dude, shut up,” Kazuichi groaned. “Nobody thinks that. Stop being so weird. Fuyuhiko just doesn’t know how to look after people.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up? I doubt you’ll throw up, you wouldn’t eat anything this morning,” Hajime said.

At that exact moment, almost as if to pointedly prove him wrong, Nagito made a choked retching sound and ducked his head down further, cringing.

“Oookay. Or not. Um. You’re okay,” Hajime muttered, placing a wary hand on Nagito’s hair to keep it out of the way. It was strange hair; soft yet thick at the same time, and it poofed up determinedly no matter how many times Ibuki tried him out with different hairstyles.

The seatbelt signs were now off, so Kazuichi stood up hastily, trying to shield Nagito from the people hurrying up the aisle to the bathrooms. Hajime was grateful, but part of him wished he could switch places with Souda. He didn’t think he’d be having to coach Nagito through something so strangely intimate so soon into their… relationship? They’d never come out and actually said they were boyfriends, not even to each other, but their classmates seemed to think they were a couple.

As Nagito really hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, the actual vomiting didn’t last too long, but the dry heaving continued for several agonising minutes, and the nausea remained indefinitely. But Nagito felt safe to lift him head, his pale cheeks dusted with pink. He smiled shakily at Hajime. “How embarrassing. I caused a scene in front of all these people. You must be lamenting the day you set eyes on me.”

“Stop,” Hajime sighed, taking the soiled bag and handing it to Kazuichi.

“Hajime!” Souda squealed, hastily handing it off to a flight attendant, who offered a bottle of water for Nagito in response. Her smile didn’t slip once. Hajime was impressed by her poker face.

“Drink,” Hajime prompted, forcing the bottle into Nagito’s hands. “I want you to try eating something later too. You’re going to pass out.”

Kazuichi sat down again, glancing at Nagito. “You feeling… okay now? Like as okay as you can?”

Nagito took a long drink of water, eyes blank. Then he smiled again, that strange, forced smile. “I really am pathetic, aren’t I? Causing such a dramatic spectacle over something that happened years ago. I don’t deserve such attention from the Ultim-“

“Stop!” Hajime took Nagito’s face in his hands, forcing him to meet his eyes. Hajime thought he saw something flicker in them, some semblance of an honest emotion. “Nagito, can you please stop trying to act like you don’t have feelings. I know you’re scared. And you know what? It’s okay. It’s completely fucking normal to feel like this right now. I shouldn’t have left you. That was me being dense, and I’m sorry. But you can stop pretending. It’s just me here - and Kazuichi, but he’ll understand too. He’s scared of everything.”

“I am not!” Kazuichi cried, outraged.

Hajime didn’t break eye contact with Nagito, both breathing heavily. Nagito glared back at first, his face twisting into a scowl, but Hajime didn’t falter.

“Let me in,” Hajime muttered. “I know you, for God’s sake. You’re not gonna scare me off. It’s okay to need help. Please.”

Another silence for several long, tense seconds. Then - finally, amazingly - Nagito made a soft frustrated noise, lunged forwards and wound his arms around Hajime’s neck so tightly that for a second Hajime thought he’d messed up so badly Nagito was trying to throttle him.

“Hey, careful,” Hajime said, but his voice was gentle and he didn’t try to pry Nagito off. Nagito let his forehead rest on Hajime’s shoulder, his hair falling to shield his face completely. Hajime snaked his own arms awkwardly around Nagito’s slender waist. He could feel Nagito shaking, feel the warm puff of his breathing against his shoulder. The shaking never eased, but as time passed the breathing seemed to calm slightly.

Nagito didn’t speak as he clung to Hajime for dear life. Not a single word. But Hajime hadn’t really expected him to. This was already a degree of vulnerability that Nagito was completely unaccustomed to showing anyone, let alone his almost-boyfriend, his classmates and an entire plane full of strangers. It was a good place to start.

Kazuichi watched them slightly bitterly. “It’s alright for some. I wouldn’t mind someone to cuddle up to,” he muttered.

“That’s your other talent. Ultimate Third Wheel,” Hajime quipped.

Their row of seats was reasonably peaceful after that, though Hajime could hear the laughter and yelling from their classmates further back. He hoped the sensible members of the group could stop them causing too much trouble. Hajime couldn’t go tell them to knock it off himself; whenever he moved at all Nagito would tighten his grip.

He sat there, hour after hour, until he had to pry Nagito off him for a bathroom break. It wasn’t easy. Nagito fought him and clung on as much as he could, though Hajime explained he’d be back in five minutes.

“Look, cling onto Kazuichi while I go pee,” Hajime suggested. Kazuichi didn’t look overly enthusiastic about that idea, but he didn’t protest.

Nagito sighed. He slowly drew back his arms, and whispered three breathy little words into Hajime’s shirt before he went, perhaps the most raw, vulnerable words Hajime had ever heard Nagito say: “Please come back.”

“I will. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured.

Nagito shifted shakily in his seat, turned to Kazuichi and lunged at him too, wrapping his arms around his neck. Kazuichi squealed and whined that he was being strangled, but he didn’t shove Nagito away. Hajime almost felt like they were new parents, passing their newborn between them: “I’ll hold him for a bit, you go to the loo.”

There was a queue for the tiny airplane bathrooms. Hajime stood impatiently, wriggling his cramped shoulders and rocking back on his heels; he was glad Nagito seemed to be trusting him more, but he was pretty stiff after sitting in the same position for hours.

Two women ahead of Hajime in the queue seemed to be having an animated discussion about something, and when Hajime caught the word “school” he started to listen properly.

“I don’t know what sort of school they come from, but they’re a strange bunch,” one lady hissed. “There’s an odd boy in the row ahead of me, one of that lot, who has a collections of rodents, all free from their cage! Running all over the seat trays! Well, that’s not very hygienic, is it? But when I told him as much, he gave me the most incredibly rude answer.”

“Young people have such foul mouths these days,” the other lady agreed.

“No, he wasn’t swearing. It was ever so strange, almost as if he was… well, you’ll think I sound silly. But it was like he was cursing me.”

It was a good job for Hajime that the toilet became available and the lady rushed inside, because he was biting his cheeks to contain his laughter. When he’d used the loo himself and gone back to release Kazuichi from Nagito’s vice grip, he recited the story for both of them.

Kazuichi laughed, poking Nagito gently. “There you are, Nagito. No need to worry. No matter how weird we are, we can always count on Gundham to be weirder.”

Nagito didn’t respond, but Hajime saw a hint of a smile - a real smile - on his lips before he buried his face in Hajime’s neck again.

#super danganronpa two #danganronpa 2 #emeto tw #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #kazuichi souda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #panic attacks #past trauma #komahina #fear of flying #non despair au #mod circle #our writing

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mingying · 3 years ago

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[spoilers] hospital playlist s2 finale; ikjun/songhwa

We have reached the finale and I am honestly going through a whole lot of emotions right now. But there are definitely a few things I really want to talk about this beautiful ship of mine so please allow me to.

TL;DR: IkSong stays true to the fact that their relationship is firmly rooted in friendship, only that now there are no more lines to worry about and they are able to do things a tad bit more with each other.

I absolutely loved the IkSong scenes we got in E12.

While I was perhaps a bit sad we didn’t get more of them showing skinship, such as say holding hands or even hugging or kissing, I realise that the beauty of their relationship does not lie in physical intimacy. Instead, their relationship is rooted in a love so quiet and mundane that you may not even realise it if you don’t know them well enough.

And well, in my opinion, that kind of love is honestly beautiful in their own way.

I loved how even though they’re with labels now, their interaction with each other is generally still the same. There’s no jarring change that is in your face, but things that they’ve usually done with each other but just packed with a little something extra that makes me as a viewer swoon.

1) Ikjun buys coffee for everyone and leaves one for Songhwa, but not before writing on the sleeve with a little heart -- this is indirectly to show that he was indeed the one to leave her two coffees at the end of Epi 2 and I simply love it.

2) Songhwa telling the boys that she is going on a date with Ikjun, that they really are dating -- only to be met with laughs and a complete disbelief that Junwan even bet his entire fortune. I laughed so hard, and I really hope Songhwa managed to get them to repeat what they had said because girlie, you and Ikjun are about to be the richest couple in Yulje.

3) Ikjun and Songhwa’s first date, which I noticed that Songhwa had first filled a plate of tangsuyuk for Ikjun first before herself. Even though she is generally impatient when it comes to food, being the food goblin she is, this small gesture she does to Ikjun is so heartwarming. It’s like she wants him to share a bit of her happiness (food) with him too, and that she is looking out for him as he always does to her.

4) Songhwa singing a love song about a man she loves being right beside her and hoping he will always love her, to Ikjun, is something I truly loved to witness. And the best part was that Mido sang it in her natural, beautiful voice, because that scene was told through Ikjun’s POV and to him, she sounds perfect. His face honestly, at that moment, dear lord. He is truly so in love with her. (++ Iksun’s reactions are hilarious HAHA)

5) Seokhyung’s “I’m so happy for you guys, you really care for each other, you made the right decision, Songhwa-ya” will always live in my mind rent free. This feels really like how it all came to a full circle, right? How poetic it is that they had both IkSong and GomGom endgame in the same episode considering the circumstances in the 99z, and then have Songhwa finding out about Minha first, and then Seokhyung about IkSong? I truly, truly loved this scene so much.

6) That little shot of Songhwa staring at Ikjun with that smile on her face as she watches her sleep -- this is it. This is definitely her look of “I can now love this man however much I want because he is mine”.

7) The sushi scene still makes me smile every time I think about it. They cringed at how they had to act all lovey dovey and it was so adorable to watch. A really realistic depiction of friends to lovers, too, don’t you think so? I mean, Songhwa has fed Junwan before and they are completely platonic so her not being able to do this to Ikjun just shows that it’s because she’s hyper aware this is supposed to be a couple gesture to do.Trust me, soon, you will be feeding each other without much thought and care once you get over this transitional phase.

8) When Songhwa has had a rough day with her patient not going well, she went back to her room and found Ikjun resting there. Them lying side by side with the camera shot from above seems to give an illusion that they are lying on a bed so I’m going to take it as that haha. I loved that in this scene, they first start by asking about their surgery/patient. And then Songhwa shared with Ikjun that they have no choice but to declare the patient to be brain dead - and Ikjun was clearly distressed to hear that. I’m glad that as lovers, they are able to confide with each other their days and share their troubles and worries. To just be there for each other. This couple truly has reached that level of maturity and I’m so happy that from now on, they won’t have to hold back in sharing things with each other even more.

9) The camping scene was a surprise as I did not see it coming even though I did express my wish of another camping scene. Songhwa tried to stay awake just to continue talking to Ikjun but he realised she was sleepy - how cute? We then got a parallel of him contemplating in that brief moment about life but this time, he is smiling happily instead of forlornly/longingly.

And the best part? They are sharing a tent together. To be that comfortable to sleep in the same tent together, well, my shipper self is obviously going to clown and say that they’ve probably already done more than just kissing.

Lord. Brb. I’m drawing up my gdoc as we speak ;)

#iksong #my otp #hospital playlist #lee ikjun #chae songhwa #im just so sad we'll probably not see them again unless it's years down the road maybe and s3 is announced huhu #my two comfort characters

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wroteclassicaly · 3 years ago

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Waves of Blue (Andy Dolan x Reader)

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, hair pulling, face slapping, slight choking, mentions of drug usage, & angst.

A/N : AAAAAAHHHHH! I have found the post that teaches you how to add a read more on mobile! Shoutout to the person who told me about that! You know who you are! ^_^ Anyways, I am so gonna be posting more, even if it’s harder because I have to write the fics on my phone, versus my laptop, lol. I stumbled across the song Waves of Blue by Majid Jordan, and my ass was emotional af (I have included some of the lyrics here in blue!) I obviously don’t own the song/lyrics!

The song was the kick one of my drafts needed for extra inspiration! And so, I bring you the start of this mini fic! It won’t be very many chapters. And I will probably re-visit for a prequel, to write out how the reader and Andy first hooked up. But I wanted to try something different and start my fic with their relationship already ongoing. Hopefully it doesn’t suck, haha.?

I haven’t felt this inspired for a Cody character since Michael Langdon! I adore Andy’s traumatic, cocky, angsty, hot mess ass! And I really wanna explore the creativity he’s bringing me! Lemme know what y’all think? And give the song a listen - I’m in in love with it!

Forgive me if there’s some mistakes, loves! I’m nervous about how I’ve written Andy, and how the smut is. Hope y’all enjoy anyways!

~*~

The rain is a glittering array of shimmering moisture as its presence is pouring down on the roof of your apartment. Your knees are knocked tightly together, jean fabric digging into flesh. Your phone is perched face down atop your legs, vibrating messages you don’t care to read. They’re not the ones that you want to see. You tilt your head back, the tears redirecting themselves down the sides of your cheeks. You turn your gazing direction to that silk robe atop your bed - a reminder.

“It’s just a fling, love.”

But it can’t be, can it?

You have to laugh at yourself. Isn’t this what every girl asks themselves when they’re dumped? Rare is an exception who steals the other person’s heart and changes that exterior they carry. Your phone vibrates again and that raging anger to match the ruby red color on his robe that rests on your bedroom sheets - it charges your energy like a violent strike of lightening! Your hand launches your phone into the hallway outside your bedroom door before you can stop yourself.

“There’s your fucking fling, dumbass Andy Dolan!”

You try to hum to fight off the incoming intrusive thoughts, to ignore your ringing phone in the distance, but it’s to no avail. You’re getting more overwhelmed with the pain by every agonizing second. Your fists clench into the leather armrests below. It’s too much, you can’t bear another second of this shit. It doesn’t matter that it’s raining, it doesn’t matter that you have over fifteen unanswered recent calls from Andy since you threw your phone - unbeknownst to you.

You snatch the stupid silk robe from its place and begin your knowing journey with the excruciatingly expensive item, having already made up your mind. A quick removal of your keys from the hooks beside your front room door and your bare feet seem to lead you - heart first - into the downpour. Your clothing is soaked the instant you step outside. Mumbling all the way to your SUV and clutching Andy’s silk garment becomes your saving grace to help anchor your focus. If one can be focused in bare feet during a thunderstorm, erratically throwing her car into reverse.

The drive to his place of privacy - his sanctuary - the cold place you once used to help him warm. It doesn’t take you long. With your tires grinding against soaking asphalt, country beach roads whipping past you, and your angry windshield wipers struggling to keep up with your car’s pace - Andy’s gates come into your sights. You’re trembling, too upset and geared to go for a turn around now. Andy didn’t change the security, so you let yourself in, abandoning your car just inside, doors open and interior carelessly being soaked.

It doesn’t matter. I just have to tell him this.

That’s your mantra for continuous approach. You round the long expanse of beautiful greenery, waves crashing violently in the distance, a love affair to collide with this storm. Your simple outfit of blue jeans and a baby blue tank top are beyond recognition, weighted down by the sopping wet summer. The shivering begins to thrum along to an invisible, but very present humming inside you. It’s that feeling, the one you know all too well.

Andy Dolan.

Like when you first met, you begin to tremble, letting your limbs move you accordingly. Making sense is last on the priority list. Normally, you would have a thousand conversational scenarios laid out, but that’s not the case. Rushed on purely raw need to tell him - no - inform him, that is what is in charge here. The soft grass is squishy between your toes, a tickle from each freshly mowed blade, water in the distance smelling like salt and flowing freedom.

Every sense is heightened for you right now. Your limbs are heavy, yet your footfalls are light, carrying you with a quick grace. You don’t bother with the front door, opting for his usual back door hang out. It’s a few more minutes before your destination is reached. That’s when you hear him screaming, his voice in high distress, hard and rough against the accent. Your chest heaves to cage hammering heartbeats that you can’t keep up with.

“Motherfucking ANSWER ME!” He shouts, ripping the phone from his ear to redial.

You rolls your eyes, assuming it’s a dealer, or whomever he would rather be with than you. After all, he’s the one who said he just needed an ideal situation, not a relationship.

“Y/N... come on, don’t be a fucking cunt! I need to tell you something, please!”

Almost on cue the song drops loud on his fancy speakers in the house, freezing you to your spot.

I wanna hold you close

Don't wanna let you go

Be with you night and day

'Cause I've been feeling so low

Don't have to ask me twice

You really take me there

I wanna touch your light

I wanna breathe in your air

Andy angrily taps at his phone again, almost growling, reminding you of a wild animal. That’s when you’re snapped into your remaining senses, moving up and onto his deck, standing just feet from him. It takes him a few seconds to look up and see you through the rain. You can’t bring yourself to go any closer, afraid to let go right away. That’s how it is with Andy, you always give in.

You cut him off before he even gets a chance.

“Fuck you, Andy.”

Damn, was that really what you worked up the courage to dangerously drive yourself here to confess?

His lips purse a popping a noise, eyes widening in surprise at your word choices.

“I really fucking hate you.” Is what you give him, finding it easier to take steps now.

He still doesn’t speak as you approach, almost as if he’s recoiling. That wild animal within Andy Dolan. He’s not used to this. You can barely see through the rain, feeling like a moron. The movies make it look so dramatic, but you feel like you’re a wet dog on the verge of catching a cold.

It does good at numbing you though, almost shielding you from those haunting blue eyes. You swipe a hand across your face to clear your vision, and take that final step onto the deck with him, now just on the other side of where he stands in the doorway. That’s when he decides to speak, his voice softer than you’ve heard. It echoes his exhaustion, his surprise.

“You’re not the only one that feels that way, Y/N.”

You shake your head in disbelief, both of you not daring to make that closing gap. You would douse his body with yours; wet and cold. You’d be lying if you denied the shiver that attacked you, drawing your body in like a magnet - helpless to its every move.

“Don’t give me this kicked puppy front. We’re all human beings, Andy. And I didn’t fucking deserve you cutting your baggage open and just... dumping out whatever you felt like on me and then letting me go.”

Fuck.

He inhales sharply, head tilting in this sadness you seem to understand within the moment. It steals your breath, a pain punching your ribcage, causing your heartbeat to skip a few. Your jaw twitches as you turn away to gather your bearings, starting back down into the yard.

Why the fuck did I come here?

I'll be holding you tight

When the night is through

Andy takes a deep inhalation behind you and that catches you, dragging you right back. Before you know which end is up you’re turning back around and striding across the pool deck and right into your former lover. Andy meets you in the harsh rains, his hands cupping your neck so possessively, that you can’t remember a time where this hot mess of a man wasn’t bull dozing your life apart. You grasp his face in your palms, that unshaven stubble prickling your flesh. Your mouth meets his, his phone becoming ruined and forgotten as he lets it fall to the ground beside him.

His strong arms path down to encircle your waist, pulling you in from the weather, bunching your t-shirt up until it’s pooling around your tattered bra. You raise your arms to help him discard it, the heavy wet noise it makes when it collides with a nearby pool chair is enough to make Andy gain his surroundings.

“Stop, stop. Are you fucking high?” He asks you, a cautious pause.

You shake your head. “Aren’t you?”

This is when he scares you with a solemn silence you weren’t aware he could possess.

“Andy...” You push your fingers through his damp curls.

“No, I’m not. I was just about to... when you didn’t answer.”

Almost as if he can’t take revealing that bit of truth, he thumbs a bra strap down your shoulder - deliberately slow. Your skin stings with the line of goosebumps that it brings, your own hands struggling to push that stupid ass identical robe off his broad chest.

“I should fucking rip this.” You say, causing a smile to come from him.

“Rip it and I’ll put you on your knees.”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” A challenging look presses your features, but Andy intercepts, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling your hair back. You feel the ache crack from the tips of your toes, hot wired into your cunt - direct express.

“You need more marks from me.” His mouth caresses your jawline, stubble catching the underside when his lips find your neck, a stimulation that you have become accustomed to craving.

His teeth bite down, a few seconds more where you feel him cleaning his evidence with a light set of kisses.

“There we go.” He scrapes his milky white teeth across your ear with a whisper so hot that you bow into him; knees weak.

Your bra is the next thing to fall somewhere, your jeans following. Andy doesn’t wait for you to even kick them off, his fingers sliding into your lace panties to see how much you still need him. He licks his lips, eyes closing in pleasure, a familiar stroking rhythm unraveling from the tips of his fingers.

“Shit, that’s a good girl. Even when you hate me you still need me, don’t you?”

The cockiness makes your wrist snap and palm collide with his cheek. You’re riled up, he’s riled up. Something you know he likes. “Like you fucking needed that?” Is your retort.

He groans out, a honey wet dip in his tone. “Only you can fucking touch me like that, Y/N.”

Lightening flashes through the darkened midnight skies, rain pounding across the surface of the pool to create a special beat. Andy finds your mouth in desperation once more, working your underwear down in a frustrated jerk. His fingers part your slick folds and ease into you without any warning. You look down to watch his strong forearm flex in its working marathon, back and forth between your thighs.

We'll be riding the tide in the sky so alive

On waves of blue (waves of blue)

I'm in love with the thought of being in love

In love with you (love with you)

You can bring me along for the rest of your life

If you wanted to (wanted to)

You let go and give into him, not daring to question why you came here in the first place. You know why. Andy has stopped his touches, watching you with that lowered stare he gives. His body is glowing from the neon lighting his home harbors, his creamy skin glistening with rain water. He’s hard through those silk pants, nothing left to the imagination.

“Take them off. Now.” You command him.

He can’t hide the greedy smirk that appears on his lips, not taking his eyes off you as his pants and boxers disappear in one go. He is gloriously hard and thick. You almost want to laugh at your cliche salivating tongue. Andy brushes your wet hair off your temple, his hands moving down your body in a tapping massage - reaching their target to hook behind your thighs.

He lifts you with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He’s panting rapidly, nosing your neck. He grips himself, teasingly stroking your cunt to gather your arousal. You stutter on an exhale, unable to breathe out properly. It’s jagged and broken, much like your rationality.

You stop him when he attempts to press inside you. “Tell me again,” You plead. He looks at you in confusion. “Say I’m just a fling.” You finish.

“Y/N...” He struggles.

“Before you fuck me, I want you to tell me what I mean to you, Andy.”

It’s hard not to just fucking forget this and let go, let him take you, both of you get what you want and not have to deal with anything else. But you need to hear it. You want to know how much you’re not worth anything to him. You need to hear it more than you need to find out how much you mean to him. That’s what you came here for...

His enriching ocean eyes are glossy with desire, with something else you can’t place. They pin you into a set of shakes. You grip the hair at his neck’s nape.

“Everything.” He says it all at once, bringing your hand down atop his to help him line up, as he fucks himself into your cunt, stretching you with that delicious drowning burn.

You're no good for me

You got what I need

I just wanna be with you

You cry out, vision sprinkled with an array of floating shapes. Andy drives you against the door, hips slamming so hard you know you’ll be bruised before the night is through. You keep one arm around his neck, lowering the other to encourage him to hurt you deeper, nails clawing at his lower back, shredding the skin. His face stays buried in your neck, stubble adding to each motion he makes inside. You cling tight, using all your strength.

It’s slippery, it’s unstable, you can barely hold onto one another, but you manage. And that moment when you finally can’t keep yourself up, Andy lets you slide down, bringing you into the floor of the doorway, lifting your legs onto his shoulders, pressing in so hard you can’t contain the tears that roll from the corner of your eyes, coasting. He’s familiarized himself with how you come undone, even before you knew.

“You’re drenching my cock, baby. You need to let it go?”

You don’t answer, causing him to grip your throat.

“When I ask you something I expect an answer. You remember how this works, don’t you?”

“Fuck, yes! Please, Andy!” You don’t pride yourself now.

He guides a hand across you, as if he’s tuning a fine instrument. Your stomach quivers with a passing of his fingertips, engaging in a butterfly filled stomach clench. You’re tensing up, anticipating. Desiring.

“Fucking do it! Show me how much you still need this...” He trails off, dropping to rest his chest against your breasts.

“Even if you don’t need me.” It’s a counter thought to your need to hear him say he doesn’t want you.

“I’ll always need you.” You push him onto his back with newfound strength, and pin his hands above his head, your hips bouncing so hard that you can feel his firm structure beneath. That’s right, this is exactly what you have to have.

He’s damn near whining now, squeezing your fingers tightly. “Y/N.”

It’s a warning you don’t need. You lean down to steal a kiss, leaving him further winded, nudging his nose with your own, breasts smashed to between you two. Andy gives a silent agreement, dropping a hand down to quickly rub your clit. Your heartbeat is so out of control that you can’t hear anything but your own cries as you cum all over Andy’s cock. He follows with you, holding himself, keeping you there.

He’s shaking when it’s over. You can’t find coherent speech capabilities.

I'll be holding you tight

I'll wait this through

You stay resting on top of him, still keeping him inside. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you know that there’s no going back now.

This is just another beginning...

~*~

Tagging: @dark-mei-rose @confettucini @lovelylangdonx

Lemme know if y’all wanna be added to the tag list?!!!!

#andy dolan fanfiction #andy dolan fic #andy dolan x you #andy dolan x reader #andy dolan #eden fanfiction #eden #kristenwrites

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xiaomoxu · 4 years ago

Text

Lucien - From the Heart Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Recently, the company undertook a variety show on love. Today is the first day of filming of the new program.

The gate of the studio is facing a leisure park. After winter, the fallen leaves of the platanus will cover the road and creak when stepping on it.

There are occasional wild boars here, but nearby residents always place cat food for them in conspicuous places, so their lives are quite moist.

He always eats chubby, lying on the fallen leaves in the sun.

It happened that Xu Mo had a lecture today at a nearby hotel, and we made an appointment to have lunch together in this park.

But the work in the morning ended a little later than expected.

When I arrived in the park in a hurry, Xu Mo seemed to have been sitting on a bench for a long time.

The winter sun poured a lot of wine on his shoulders, drawing a warm light on his slightly drooping side face.

After running his fingers across a few lines of headlines on the news, he casually turned a page of the newspaper lying on his lap.

Perhaps disturbed by the sound of the paper, the magpie, which had been resting on the treetops, suddenly spread its wings to win the sky, hovering around the plane trees behind him.

With a "click" sound from the phone, Xu Mo raised his head and met my sight in the golden sun.

I was about to speak, but Xu Mo laughed a step ahead of me.

Xu Mo: Don't be sorry, it didn't take long.

MC: Professor Xu knows how to read minds, he can guess what am I thinking.

Xu Mo: Mind reading is simple, and so will you. If you don’t believe me, you can try and guess what I’m thinking now.

MC: You should be thinking how to punish this late person?

Xu Mo: Well, a good guess.

MC: Why not punish her to eat dinner with Professor Xu at night.

I sat down next to Xu Mo. He put away the newspapers and took out the coffee and sandwiches prepared for me from the paper bag.

Xu Mo: It's a good proposal. However, your new show has received very enthusiastic response. The filming of the last few issues should be very busy, right?

MC: These two days are okay, and no matter how busy the work is, it is no more important than eating with Professor Xu.

I took the coffee and opened the drinking spout on the lid of the cup, and a hazelnut scent spread immediately, making the noon breeze mixed with the sweetness of winter.

MC: How about you, how about today's lecture?

MC: Sneak out during lunch break...

MC: It should disappoint many professors who want to have lunch with you and take the opportunity to exchange a few more words, right?

Xu Mo gave a frank hum, but his expression was always relaxed and casual.

Xu Mo: It doesn't matter, I have a valid reason, they can understand.

He crossed his legs, leaned back in the chair and squinted.

Xu Mo: I told them that I was in charge of the program as a consultant and encountered some problems during the filming, so I had to take the time to communicate with the producer at noon.

I was stunned for a moment.

MC: Professor Xu, based on my assessment of the status quo, it can be understood as: Have you lied to them?

Xu Mo showed a serious expression.

Xu Mo: If the producer is willing to talk to me about the shooting of the show, I think this cannot be called a lie.

Xu Mo: How is it, has the problem you mentioned to me been solved?

During the shooting of this love variety show, something unexpected happened to me.

A female guest told us after the filming of several episodes of the show that she really had a feeling for a male guest on the show.

She proposed an idea and wanted to make a confession part in the program.

This is not only a brilliant idea in terms of program effects, but also fits the theme of the variety show. After several discussions, we decided to cooperate with her in planning.

But the specific way of confession made us tangled for several days.

MC: At that time, we were a little too solemn when we wanted to give gifts. We were deliberately alone and afraid of embarrassment.

Xu Mo turned to me with his arm on the back of the chair, listening patiently.

Xu Mo: And now, is there a conclusion?

MC: Of course~ I am very professional in doing matchmaker.

I vividly described to Xu Mo the opinions that the program team finally reached.

MC: We are going to put her confession note in the clue box in advance.

MC: This is a puzzle-solving session of a two-person team. When the time comes, the male guest will be alone to open the box.

MC: If he is surprised when he sees this note, it will be Happy Ending!

After listening to my description, Xu Mo sighed.

Xu Mo: It takes courage to express your feelings frankly.

Xu Mo: Girls, are always braver than I thought.

The prosperous sunshine shrouded Xu Mo, and I looked sideways at his silhouette overlapping with the light, and every corner of my heart was covered with light emotions.

There are long white clouds floating in the sky, I am holding hot coffee, and my thoughts are also floating slowly.

MC: The moment when ‘liking’ happen, the feeling of heartbeat becomes a seed.

MC: It will grow instinctively, facing the sun and rain.

MC: As for what kind of flower will eventually bloom, it may no longer be important.

MC: The important thing is an instinct.

I leaned closer to Xu Mo, looking at him tightly with my eyes, making a meaningful hint.

MC: As long as this person's eyes look at me, the sun will pour down, and the seeds will surely break through the soil.

He propped his chin and smiled faintly.

Xu Mo: Is it the same instinct as moths attracted to fire?

MC: .....

I suddenly stopped talking.

Xu Mo showed some doubts.

Xu Mo: Did I say something wrong?

MC: Hahaha although it is a bit horrible... but what I think of is a big mosquito lying on the lampshade.

The warm atmosphere was inexplicably broken, and Xu Mo's expression was emotional.

MC: So it's better not a moth, it can be a better looking insect.

Xu Mo: .....

Xu Mo: Haha.... hahahahaha

I don't know why I got into his smile. Xu Mo laughed out of nowhere. He even stooped slightly and put his forehead on my shoulder.

After a while, he raised his head and looked at me, still smiling while talking.

Xu Mo: Well, it's not a moth, it's the instinct of the world's best-looking insect to attack the source of fire.

Seeing that Xu Mo was in such a good mood, I couldn't help but want to tease him a little bit, so I deliberately made a distressed expression, sighed and lowered my head.

MC: What a pity....

Xu Mo: What's wrong?

I took the last bite of the sandwich and patted the crumbs on my fingers, pretending.

MC: The atmosphere was so good just now, I could have taken the opportunity to kiss you.

I caught the slight astonishment in Xu Mo's eyes, and learned his tone mischievously.

MC: I'm teasing you, don't be nervous.

Suddenly he got up and stepped in front of me, bent down directly, and got close to the distance that crossed my breath.

The clear eyes in front of me fell into a pale yellow halo, swaying gentle ripples.

He did nothing, was silent, and looked at me quietly with these eyes.

One second, two seconds, five seconds...ten seconds.

I lowered my gaze subconsciously several times, but every time I lifted it up again, I could see an inch of smile on his lips.

Damn it, lost again!

I turned my face in discouragement, put on a stubborn expression and no longer looked at him, he gave a triumphant smile, and pressed his lips to my forehead.

Xu Mo: Okay, I have to go back to work.

Xu Mo: The spare key is still in the same place. If you can't find it, remember to send me a message.

The voice was soaked with warmth, as if the sun had melted in it all winter.

I feel my auricles are burnt red, nodded.

At the end of lunch time, I hurried back to the studio.

In the afternoon, I mainly took some empty shots with very little content. The ending time was two hours earlier than I expected.

According to the agreement with Xu Mo, I went to his house in advance to wait for him.

When the door was pushed, the wind from the balcony exposed the corridor, blowing a bunch of papers hung on the wall. I quickly closed the door and walked to the paper curiously.

MC: When did Xu Mo paint these...

A thin hemp rope hung on the wall, and seven or eight semi-finished paintings were clamped on them with wooden clips.

All the paintings are me.

I was standing in the snow, I was squatting on the ground to pick up maple leaves, and I was standing in the wheat ears during an outing...

The reason they are said to be semi-finished products is because Xu Mo only gave them half the color.

Many scenes still have traces of sketches, only me and the things around me have color.

It is like a drop of paint falling in water. The color in the middle is dense. The more it spreads, the lighter the color.

But there is only me in these paintings...

I personally made the next decision and took out the easel from the corner of the balcony.

MC: But...

I looked down at my cashmere coat. If I rubbed the paint, it should not be easy to wash.

After a short hesitation, I pulled out a white coat from Xu Mo's laundry basket, which he had not put in the washing machine, and replaced it.

I'll help him wash all these later.

After I was ready, I rolled up my sleeves, picked up the paintbrush and traced Xu Mo's profile on the drawing paper...

Time always flies quickly when you focus on doing things.

When I raised my head again, the window was already a little gloomy, leaving only a faint golden sunset on the curtains.

There was a creaking sound from the door. Once I looked back, I found that Xu Mo had already walked in.

Xu Mo: Sure enough, you were earlier than me.

He put down his briefcase and put on slippers.

Xu Mo: Are you painting?

MC: Uh, yeah~

Xu Mo: It's a good pastime. I'm still worried on the way back. You won't know how to pass the time.

I put aside the paintbrush, stretched my waist, and scratched my wrist.

MC: Although I used Professor Xu's drawing board without authorization, I have a reasonable use.

I removed the half-colored draft from the drawing board and showed it to Xu Mo excitedly.

MC: Although the grading is a little frustrating....

MC: The color of the hair is darker, the complexion on the face is whiter, and the lip color seems too red.

MC: But on the whole, it still shows 80% of the beauty of Professor Xu.

MC: How do you rate it?

Xu Mo didn't speak, but just stared at the painting in my hand and looked again.

He lightened his tone, and gently ran his fingers across the paint on the painting, and the wet color was on his fingertips.

Xu Mo: The painting is so good, I like it very much.

Seeing him a little lost, I shook the painting in my hand in front of him again.

MC: Andㅡit has a little secret!

I took one of Xu Mo's paintings, overlapped the two papers, and clamped it in between.

Although the brushstrokes are different and the colors are very different, the backgrounds of the two paintings can blend together well.

The golden wheat field connects to the azure blue sky, me and Xu Mo are facing each other in the painting, and our eyes intersect.

Naturally as if this is the original picture, there should be two people

MC: It didn't turn over!!!

Before I painted, I didn't expect that my technique had advanced to this level.

Xu Mo stood behind me at some point, stretched out his hand to embrace my waist from behind, and pulled me into his arms.

Xu Mo: The painting is very good, I really like it.

I look back and stuck to the his side profile.

Xu Mo: I also like the paintings you paint, but if the paintings are the two of us together, I would like them better.

Xu Mo tightened his arms.

Xu Mo: I didn't mean it.

Xu Mo: Otherwise, if you talk about it, people don't have themselves in their memory. How do you draw a picture of two people?

MC: Hm.

MC: You're right.

Xu Mo's chuckle came in my ears. I pressed against the warmth of his chest and looked at the painting in front of me.

MC: Xu Mo, are you painting these, is it something to commemorate?

MC: I look at these paintings. They are all scenes from our previous trips. Some of them are from a long time ago.

Xu Mo: It is a part of memories, but it is not a memorial.

Xu Mo: It's just that these pictures are all in my mind, so I simply painted them.

Xu Mo: Or...

He paused suddenly.

Without urging me, we fell into a long silence.

The setting sun outside the window has completely sunk below the horizon, and in the dim room, the sound of the two people's interlaced breathing one after another

The gloomy light cast our shadows on the wall. From this angle, I saw that his bent waist ridge showed a slight arch.

The skin on the side of the neck is filled with a moist smell, which is the breath of Xu Mo that I am most familiar with.

Xu Mo: MC, there are some people in this world.

He spoke slowly, his voice was always calm, and his arms tightened again around my waist.

Xu Mo: Not realizing that "heartbeat" is the beginning of all beautiful stories

Xu Mo: When they find that they have the emotion of "like", the first thing they feel is uneasy.

Xu Mo: They will choose to suppress themselves, resist the occurrence of "likes", and always remind themselves not to fall into this emotion.

Xu Mo: The heartbeat they feel is a complex emotion mixed with anxiety.

Xu Mo: For such people, it can be difficult to express yourself frankly.

Xu Mo put his chin on my shoulder, and stretched out his hand, rubbing his palm on the drawing paper in front of him.

Xu Mo: I have been practicing this candor since a long time ago.

Xu Mo: What you see is the result of practice.

MC: ....

I was speechless for a while and didn't know how to describe my feelings at the moment.

He suddenly bent over and picked me up, strode to the front hall, and put me on the table.

Dark blue night was thrown into the room, and the deep eyes that were close at hand had dark gutters, and they were silently conveying something.

Xu Mo: Or maybe I paint these paintings just to tell you what kind of flowers the seed planted in my heart bloomed.

The ice layer, which had been covered by snow for a long time, finally cracked a tiny mark and made an inaudible sound, but it clearly fell into my ears at this moment.

What followed was that the invading ice tide finally broke through the heavy ice and flowed into the spring.

I fixedly looked at him, as if finally seeing the person in front of me as the person I knew best.

Xu Mo: You are right, the upward growth of seeds is an instinct.

Xu Mo: Even if you know that you will risk tears when you build bonds with others.

Xu Mo: Even if this effect can be explained by factors such as dopamine, phenylethylamine, norepinephrine, and endorphins, I cannot suppress this instinct.

He paused and took my hand to his lips.

Xu Mo: I am willing to obey this instinct.

All the language that expresses emotions is stuck in my throat, and there is no way to convey and vent it.

Xu Mo smiled and came up.

When our lips touched, I saw the tide surge in his eyes.

Xu Mo: .....

All the senses are overwhelmed by such turbulent emotions, as if falling into the deep sea, the hands we hold together are tightly clasped.

Sanity is slowly being pulled away, only the hot breath is getting stronger and stronger.

I opened my eyes slightly, and saw the most straightforward expression in his eyes, which he always used to be silent.

MC: Xu Mo....

Between my lips and the tip of my tongue, I called his name softly, as if reading a mark on my heart.

Xu Mo: Hm..

Slowly, Xu Mo's lips and teeth went down and gently bit on the side of my neck. I was itchy by him. Several times I tried to turn my head to avoid, but I was caught by him.

He seemed to be aroused, and nibble all the way from the side of the neck to the earlobe.

I stepped back half an inch, and he went one foot in until he forced me to the corner, completely circled into his arm.

MC: Xu Mo, you shameless...

After I protested in a low voice, he finally let go of me slightly, his eyes full of interest.

Xu Mo: I know.

Xu Mo: But no matter what I want, you will satisfy me, won't you?

MC: Bad guy.

He has an innocent tone.

Xu Mo: Is this a bad guy?

I nodded heavily.

He put on an expression of serious thinking, but reached a conclusion within a few seconds.

Xu Mo: Apart from making you a little irritated, there seems to be nothing wrong with being a bad guy.

Xu Mo: Besides, your face now is really cute.

Xu Mo: People can't help but want to bullied the cute.

MC: ...

MC: You are still righteous!

Xu Mo: Oh, yes.

Xu Mo smiled, buried his head on my shoulder, and exhaled gently.

Xu Mo: MC, Do you know what instinct brings me?

He opened his mouth softly and whispered.

Xu Mo: Happiness.

Xu Mo: A pleasure in which desires are satisfied and worries are filled.

Xu Mo: In other words, it is this kind of happiness that makes me unable to resist this instinct.

His hand slid across my waist, cupped my cheek, and kissed every inch of my skin.

But every time, it was just a light touch.

Not a strong desire, I feel more of a gentle invasion at this moment.

From the side of the neck to the cheeks, from the corners of the lips to the eyes.

Like tides over the ankles and fine sand over the toes.

He distanced himself and looked into my eyes carefully.

Xu Mo: I want to thank the light coming from these eyes.

Xu Mo: Let the seed in my heart bloom a beautiful flower.

Hot fingertips ran across my skin, Xu Mo clasped my hand and pushed me completely against the wall.

The fine kisses linger on the side of the neck, and he sucks lightly and hardly, leaving warm red marks on it.

The night enveloped the city.

The deep night mixed with the beautiful blue slowly spread out, and the deep background color was reflected in Xu Mo's eyes.

Xu Mo: I am glad I did not miss the beginning of this wonderful story.

Xu Mo: As for the ending of this story...

Xu Mo: What do you hope it looks like?

I thought for a while, but couldn't answer.

MC: I didn't think about it.

MC: But it must be better than the beginning.

I stretched out my hand to pull Xu Mo's tie, and skillfully pulled it out of the collar.

However, the brain becomes clear inexplicably under the action of complex sensory organs, and plays back one memory after another.

MC: In fact, at the beginning, I was not always firm, and I was a little uneasy, a little bit uncertain.….

MC: I often feel that you are in front of me, but so far from me.

Xu Mo paused slightly, but did not stop.

Xu Mo: And then?

I tried to think about it, and couldn't help but giggle.

MC: I'm so happy, so happy that could forget this anxiety

MC: You look happy when you look at me, and you are happy when you talk to me.

MC: If you stay with me for a little while, I can even be happy all day.

Xu Mo reached out and stroked the side of my face, sighing in a low voice

Xu Mo: Silly girl.

I pulled on his collar, trying to get him closer to me.

MC: Xu Mo, I want to hug you.

MC: ... also want to be held by you.

Xu Mo pulled me completely into his arms, tightening his arms hard enough to prevent us from leaving a little gap.

I clung to his embrace and kept in mind every bit of his feelings.

Looking back now, maybe all the good stories in the world have their beginnings to follow.

But someone stood in front of me, and I was very happy because of it.

Then he looked at me, and my heart bloomed.

---------- END ----------

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

#mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mr love spoilers #mr love translation #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mr love lucien #mr love xu mo #mr love date #mldd date #mldd lucien #mldd translation #MLQC

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my-brothers-corrupted · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter Four: Part 1

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

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

Part 1 - Reversal

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

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

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

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

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

“Motherfuck,” whispers Trick.

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

“It’s a nice house,” says Anti.

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

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

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

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

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

“Roser,” Dapper hears Blue murmurs.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, ping pong, haha!”

“Oh… a library.”

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

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

“Stay away, I know, I know!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he says after a moment.

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

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

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

He turns and heads upstairs.

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

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

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

The craving has not died.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I left you behind.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb old me?”

“Dumb old you,” chuckles Blue.

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

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

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

“Hm?”

“Something about… a boyyyy?”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, imagine a baby Anti.”

“That’s just Dapper.”

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

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

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

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

“I don’t think it’s the same.”

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

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

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

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

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

Anonymous asked: dapper? are you ok?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He is not that man now.

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

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

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

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

“How do you like it?”

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

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

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

“But you like the room?”

“Yes, Anti.”

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

“Of course.”

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

“Pretty, huh?”

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

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

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

“Yes, Anti.”

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

“Yes, Anti.”

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

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

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

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

“It smells bad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. I - ”

Anti has already glitched away.

Dapper pauses, looking around the room.

An idea starts to form in his head.

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

Dapper can tell when Blue and Doktor are plotting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And Dapper?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Boring day?”

“The cameras and I did some exploring.”

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

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

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

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

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

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

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

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

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

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

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

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

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

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

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

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

Everything smells like blood and rose.

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

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

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

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

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

It is Anti who opens his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

“Trickshot can probably hear this, Anti!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Henrik is so concussed he can barely see straight.

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

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

His eyes are closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anonymous asked: Reverse, Dapper. Roses and rowan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Glurk.

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

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

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

Dapper swallows dryly.

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

Dapper goes back in t

This post was reblogged with the following addition.

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

my-brothers-corrupted:

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

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

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

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

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

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

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

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

Addition:

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Anonymous asked: blue, hen, he rewound. if you need to disguise his magic, the bathroom full of stuff will cover the scent. if you knock a few things over and make it look like an accident and get it on him, that might work. i don't know how to hide his eyes, though.

On the path that leads up to the forest, you see Anti stop short.

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

Anonymous asked: Go into the bathroom before Anti gets here. Boy that soap and bath salts and lotion sure does sound smelly and potent *coughcough*

“Fuck!” snarls Anti, stalking towards the house. “That fucking bathroom covers the smell of him, doesn’t it? I’m going to waterboard him. That little shit. He thinks he can stop me? He thinks anyone else can control me? I’ll lock him into a fucking box like I did when he was small.”

pine-storm-season asked: Anti, Henrik wasn't cooperating and you decided to punish him, but you hurt him really badly and Dapper panicked and rewound without thinking.

“No, he thought,” says Anti, face shifting with rage, teeth building in his mouth. “He thought because I have ingrained into him throughout the course of his entire life that he should never, never, never rewind without thinking. He just pretends. You let him fool you. He’s always thinking. Snake child… he takes after me.”

Anonymous asked: blue fell and hit his head so dapper rewound, yes

“Uh-oh,” sings Anti, smiling coldly at you. “Two conflicting stories, how strange - and I bet if I went and asked Dapper right now, he would tell me a third. It almost makes me wonder if you’re not all fucking liars.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, do you think you could distract anti? just for a little bit? blue isn’t ready to be possessed again, it’s making him so so sick and anti just won’t pay attention :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

He was already stressed about being separated from Dok for the night, and the thought of Blue being possessed makes him want to throw up. He drops his Poptart immediately, turning to see Anti stepping in through the back door.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? You look pissed. Hold up, please. Blue’s not well.”

Anti blinks, pausing. “Come on, Tricky. You’re letting them manipulate you.”

Trick’s eyes water. “Look, Anti, it’s just - there’s been, like, a lot of change lately, and now I can’t be with Dok even though we were apart for like, weeks, and Blue is really seriously sick, but you’re still p-possessing him, and - you know that I don’t really like possession, it makes me feel - ”

Trick shakes his head quickly, a little green in the face. Anti tilts his head at him, alarmed, but his eyes keep looking up to the stairs. “Trick, come on, my love. You can handle this just fine. I need to go talk to Dapper.”

“It just makes me feel really scared, and I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to, don’t - can’t I have Dok, Anti, please? I hate this new plan, I’m sorry, I’ll do what you say, but - ”

“Trick,” growls Anti, but it turns into a sigh. “Fine. Have Dok for tonight. I need to go teach Dapper a lesson.”

Anonymous asked: Fine, here's the story that's the truth and it's the one he'd tell you if you got the true one. You hurt Henrik and Blue so badly that Henrik might have died locked in a room alone, bled out. You were being a stubborn asshole and refused to check up on Henrik or do anything to keep him from potentially dying. It scared your audience, scared Dapper too, so we convinced him to rewind without your permission.

“What? That doesn’t make sense. Dapper could have just waited til the morning to see if Dok was fine and rewound then if he wasn’t. Why would he just disobey me like that if he wasn’t being rebellious? He knows I’d let him rewind if anything deadly ever happened to them.”

pine-storm-season asked: Henrik, he rewound because you got badly hurt from not cooperating and he panicked and did it without thinking, as far as we could tell. Anti might be mad though.

Henrik looks up, alarmed, but a moment later only fury is flashing through his eyes.

“He does mean to torture me,” he says, voice low. “It’s true, then.”

Dapper grabs Dok’s face between his hands for a second, demanding his attention. Henrik stares back into his silver eyes, startled by the intensity he finds there.

“I know what I said,” signs Dapper rapidly, tears coursing down his cheeks. “That I didn’t want you to fight. But I was lying, Healing. I was too scared of what he would do to you. But the truth is I can’t live like this anymore! I need you to fight for me, Henrik. I need you.”

Fire lights up Henrik’s blood. He grips Dapper’s arms, staring at him, something vibrant and warm and familiar crossing through his chest. He laughs and doesn’t know why.

“For you,” says Henrik, shaking his head in astonishment. “For you, let him torture me.”

Anonymous asked: He rewound, you didn't get back in time to tell him the password. That's why he's so terrified.

“Still naughty of him. He should know better.”

Anonymous asked: Maybe this time around don't nearly murder Henrik and we won't be so rash. You claim to have control but can't control your own outbursts.

Anti stares at you dead in the eye of the camera.

“Trick,” he says. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“Sit down,” repeats Anti coldly.

Trick sinks to the floor, frightened.

Anti stalks up the stairs.

Henrik turns around, standing over Dapper and Blue on the bed.

Anti takes one step forward

and Henrik straightens up, proud

and Anti shanks Henrik through the ribs.

Blue screams like he’s the one being murdered, staggering to his feet, his cry shrill enough the birds scatter. Dapper lurches forward as if he’ll be ill, clutching at his throat, closing his eyes desperately. Anti stares down at him, his eyes piercing through him.

And Henrik?

He tumbles to the ground, staining red the carpet, and he chokes as his lungs fill.

“Is this what you wanted?” shouts Anti, slapping Dapper’s face and shoving him off the bed. “Is that what you prefer, that outcome?”

Dapper sobs, burying his face in his hands and backing rapidly away from Anti, his hands clutching at the golden hilt of the knife in his pocket. He’ll kill him for this!

“And you!” snarls Anti, whirling on the camera, pointing the life-blood-stained blade up at your one black eye. “Never tell me what to do again. Never tell me what to do ag

This post was reblogged again with a third addition.

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

my-brothers-corrupted:

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

“Dok, relax,” says Blue quietly.

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

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

“Where was he?” asks Henrik.

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

“Anti’s never introduced us to anyone.”

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

First time jump

Dapper’s calm facade shatters in a second.

“Whoa,” says Blue, seeing the sudden change in his face. “Honey, are you - ?”

Dapper throws himself forward and wraps himself like a hungry octopus around Blue’s body, tackling him onto the bed and burying himself in his chest, hiding, hiding, holding him.

“Dapper,” cries Blue, worried. “Dap, Dap… it’s okay, baby. It’s okay. What’s wrong? Oh, love.”

Dok murmurs his concerns beside them, coming up to put his hand gently on Dapper’s back. He clucks his chin once, twice, but Dapper won’t look up. Dapper won’t let go. He hides.

Blue whispers reassurances to him. Henrik strokes the back of his head. They exchange scared looks.

Second time jump

Dapper is sick beside the bed, vomit dripping from his lips, his eyes a fervent silver.

Anonymous asked: Fight, but be rational Henrik. Be safe, wait for the perfect opportunity. I know you and us both can't wait to take down the evil, but caution is a must. You nearly died in the last go through.

“No!” cries Dapper, lurching up from the bed, both of his siblings rearing back in alarm, still calling worried questions at him. Over the both of them, he is signing. “No, Dok, I take it back, don’t fight, don’t - I can’t - coward, I’m a coward!”

“Dapper, what’s going on?”

“Carve, it’s okay, just take a deep breath - Carver!”

Dapper races away from them, his stomach churning.

Anonymous asked: Oh no Dapper you're sick! Better go into the bathroom and lean over the toilet. Blue, Henrik, help him there?

Tearing away from them, he is sick again in that rose bathroom, his eyes reminding him of Blue crumpled against the shower and Dok bleeding against the sink as he gags, just one more memory for no one but him to hold on to. He breathes in panicked gasps, shoving himself back to his feet and locking the door before Blue and Dok can come racing after him. He nearly collapses over the sink, washing his beard and face harshly with a soft cloth and golden milk and honey soap, crying in short bursts, his eyes red and silver. With frantic hands, he starts the bath and leans over the tub, heaving and tearing off his shirt, his heart thumping terribly in his chest.

He covers his face with his hands, sinking down over the side of the tub before he can finish stripping, whimpering in a weak exhale of air.

Anonymous asked: Dap, take deep breaths, okay? Why are you doing this?

Dapper tugs on his hair, shaking his head, too distressed to speak for a long time.

“Why? Why?” he manages finally, swiping at the rapid tears on his face. “You know time travel takes a toll on me and you saw what just happened! What do you mean, why? No matter how many times I watch them die, it never gets easier.”

He buries his face in his arms, feeling broken and useless and stupid and weak.

“I’m not a mistake-fixer, not really. I try to be, Anti wants me to be, but I’m not! I can’t make every situation that goes badly right, no matter how much I want to. I just can’t. If that’s how Dok and Blue are planning to get out of this, tell them it won’t work. I’m not strong or brave and even if I were, time travel never makes everything alright. It’s a trick. It’s a lie. It’s just a curse.”

cest-mellow asked: trick, can you keep anti downstairs for a while? blues gonna be possessed again and it’s making him really really sick. maybe you should get jackie to go upstairs to spend some time with him while he can until his time tonight is gone :((

Trick looks up from his Poptart, blinking at you, worried.

“Anti!” calls Trick, moving towards him. “Hey, what’s going on? Where were you?”

“Heya, lil man,” says Anti, tugging Trick to his chest and pressing their foreheads together. Trick grins, relieved to find him in a good mood. “What do you want, trouble-maker?”

“Anti,” grumbles Trick with a laugh. “What am I, a four-year-old?”

“You’re about six, actually.”

“Haha.”

Anti grins at him and draws away, clucking his chin. “I’m going to go get ready for bed. You and Reddy can have whatever room you want down here. Night, my watcher.”

“Anti - wait. Hey, please. Um…”

“What?”

“I think Blue’s really sick, Anti. I’m worried. Can’t Red stay with him?”

“I’m also really sick, Trick, it’s just that Blue’s keeping it under control for me. I need him right now.”

“He’s getting worse, Anti. I hate to say it, but… I think you’re being too rough with his body.”

Anti stares at Trick.

Trick shuffles on his feet, his eyes flickering around the room.

Anti sighs.

“I’ll be gentle, alright?” he says. “For you. I promise.”

“But what if that isn’t enough?”

“You’re paranoid about possession,” says Anti gently. “You always have been. It’s going to be okay. Go get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay, Anti,” murmurs Trick, chewing on his lip.

“And don’t tell Red to go upstairs, alright? You and him aren’t allowed up there. I catch you up there, I’ll throw you right back down.”

“Okay.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, you’re gonna need to help your twin and dok and dapper upstairs. hes gonna kill one of them these days. dapper is in serious trouble and antis probably gonna possess blue again, make him even more sick. you saw how he was today. can you imagine the toll it’s taking on him? you have to protect him!

Red sits in the library.

He looks up at your beeping and you see his eyes.

From a distance, his gaze was dreamy, faraway, enchanted, perhaps.

From up close?

Red looks sad.

He reads your message once and he blinks. He glances up at the ceiling. For a moment, he breathes. He thinks. He grieves.

“Blue,” he says once, with feeling.

But he doesn’t move. Looks down at his hands. His hands on the pages of a book.

“Listen to this,” he says, and he reads:

It is as if everything else had slept Many an age, unforgotten and lost – The men that were, the things done, long ago, All I have thought; and but the moon and I Live yet and here stand idle over a grave

Where all is buried.

He stares down at the poem.

“I don’t really get it,” he says. “But I think Blue will like it.”

He tears the page from the book. He folds it into a paper airplane. He can’t go upstairs.

Anonymous asked: Yeah I'd say the moral of most time travel stories is "don't screw with time travel." Anti only sees you as an advantage but it's blown up in his face before, I just wish there was a way that the consequences ONLY fall on him without the rest of you getting hurt.

“If I was cleverer I could make that happen,” signs Dapper miserably, wiping at his face. “If I was all the things Jack made me to be. He was the only friend I ever managed to save.”

Anonymous asked: Anti, maybe you could leave Blue himself for just tonight? He's already weak, and the possession is making it worse. His magic doesn't like your body, so I can sort of see why you possess him, but it's making him sicker. Give him a night as himself, and it's quite possible he'll recover a bit.

“I really don’t know how to express to all of you how little I care about Blue’s recovery. I’m inclined to think that him being sick makes him easier to manage, and all I need the body for is sleeping.”

pine-storm-season asked: That's true, but there's going to be a point where he's weak enough that he's harder to manage simply because of the limits of his body. If you let him have occasional nights to recover, I don't think he'll end up getting there.

“Let me know when he gets to that point and maybe I’ll give a fuck then,” answers Anti mildly.

Anonymous asked: Time travel may be Anti's go-to fix for things he doesn't know how to deal with but it doesn't have to be yours, Dap. His over-reliance on your time travel, Blue's magic and body, and his hypnosis to twist things to his liking is going to be his downfall. Despite his efforts, memories linger and he can't hide his tracks in blood.

“I hope that’s true,” signs Dapper.

The lock clicks behind him.

He turns.

He isn’t collected enough to hide the evidence. He isn’t calm. He isn’t determined. He isn’t in control. He never seems to be. Anti sees his silver eyes before he can think to hide himself.

The monster steps forward, staring at him.

He touches JJ’s chin.

“I see you’ve learned a lesson,” says his broken, glitching voice.

Dapper turns away from him, ashamed.

“Yes,” he nods.

“Good, then,” purrs Anti, slapping lightly at his chin. “Silly boy. Stay here. Have your bath. And if you ever try anything like this again…”

He leans in close, eyes flashing. “I will - ”

“Kill all four of my siblings in front of me. Take me off my medicine. Feed me my fingers and make me kill Dok with my own two hands.”

Anti smiles.

Success.

Control.

“Good boy,” he murmurs. “I’ll be back soon.”

He goes.

Anonymous asked: Oh Dapper, JJ, buddy... You're not weak or a coward, not in the slightest. It'll be okay. I know that sounds empty, but it will be, it will. You did good, look what you've prevented now. Those deaths will only be memories, they don't exist in this here-and-now. Chin up, have a bath if you still want one. Baths make good cover-ups for other emotions, other... smells.

Dapper sniffles.

Then snorts out a laugh, looking up at you with his teary eyes.

“Other… smells,” he repeats, finding it funny despite everything, despite his whole life. He stares down at the water in exhaustion.

And Dapper does have a bath. He turns you away - he is, despite everything, a firm believer in the importance of being a gentleman - and he steps into the bath, pouring in the bubbles and the soaps, letting the smell wash across his skin, letting the blood and dust wash away.

Coward, his brain tells him.

Yes, he nods.

And when Anti goes to get Blue and Dok, and Dok raises his hackles, and Blue isn’t complying - well, Anti is gentle with Blue. He promised Trick. But when Anti hurts Dok the same way he hurt him the first time, when Dok is bleeding from the head, when Dok is calling for Trick to help him -

Well.

Dapper doesn’t do anything but sit in his bubbles and let his salt drip into the warm, rosey, coward’s bathwater.

Until, after a moment, he turns you back to him, trusting the bubbles to cover him.

“Hey,” he says, very small and very sad. You hear Henrik give one short cry of pain. “Will you come with me somewhere?”

Anonymous asked: yeah, we'll come with you. and i don't think you're a coward, dap. there are very few things you could do to help, and several of them would put you directly in danger. you're keeping yourself safe. i don't think that makes you a coward.

He breathes out a long sigh, resting his head against the back of the tub. He lets his body relax. His mind drift and search and reminisce. This is a new era, after all, and Anti is sick of uselessly wiping his memories. After all, he doesn’t know that they give Dapper any power.

He finds his clock in the pocket of his discarded pants and wraps his fingers around it. He finds the body of the camera. He touches your side.

Yeah, we’ll come with you.

Okay, he nods. Okay.

For the third time that day, Jameson goes back.

cest-mellow asked: where are we going, jamie?

In his mind, memories are like scrambled eggs.

To place them where they came from is almost impossible. His mind, he feels, has been tossed and turned and stirred into a mess of mashed-together knowledge and recollection, leaving him largely lost and often confused.

But there are moments he recalls. Sometimes. Some days. More and more often, there are moments he recalls.

He can only travel down the timeline, and to do so without splitting the delicate spiderweb of reality requires that he remember something and move towards it. And right now, he just wants to be at peace for a moment. He just wants to feel safe and not to have to see his family in pain.

He goes to the darkness of a closet.

It’s a faint memory in his mind. More than anything, what he recalls is feeling safe.

Dark clothes hung around him. Soft carpet beneath his hands. Something warm pressed to his chest and a pillow at his back. Aloneness and the crack of light through the bottom of the closet door.

The silver rush of time changing around him does not make him sick like it did Red. He is a surfer on a steady wave. When he opens his eyes again, he is in darkness, and you are beside him, and his clock gives a soft light as its silver timer begins to count down.

He sighs and closes his eyes, hugging a stuffed dog to his chest. No one screams. No one raises a hand at him. He sits in the darkness of the closet.

Anonymous asked: Yikes forever :(

He lets out a soft, tired sigh, sinking down onto the pillow and blankets beneath him. Yikes forever is right.

aether-mae asked: Where to J-spirit?

“I guess I don’t know where we are…”

He stares around the closet, blinking.

“It doesn’t feel like one of Anti’s prisons. But this was reckless of me. I probably shouldn’t have come.” He runs a hand through his hair. It’s the same length it is in the present, or at least it feels that way between his fingers.

Anonymous asked: Where are we now, Jameson? Do you know?

“I don’t know if I even want to find out,” he signs in the lowlight, closing his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just stay right here as long as I can. Take a nap with no one touching me. With no one shouting or screaming.”

An interruption in the light beneath the door startles him. He sits up, staring at the socked feet standing in front of the door.

Someone knocks, just gentle.

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

Anonymous asked: ooooh, jj, are you okay? that can't have been easy to go back again, are you safe where we are?

“I feel safe,” he says. “But sometimes that’s a lie.”

bupine asked: you ok, dap? what are you doing?

“I don’t know,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut like he’s in pain. “I just want everything to leave me alone. I want everything to stop.”

He’s curled down low against the blankets and pillows, hiding his face in their warmth.

“Can I come in?” asks the voice at the door, soft and careful. They sound Irish, though the accent, he thinks, isn’t quite as thick as Red’s. Maybe Blue or Trick. Or Anti, of course. It could always be Anti. “Henrik just cut his thumb, okay, he’s fine. The blood’s all gone now. You don’t have to hide in here if you don’t want to. Wouldn’t you prefer your room, buddy?”

pine-storm-season asked: Do you want to see who that is? I think they're a safe person, but we can't know for sure.

Dapper stares at the door, a shred of light making the blue of his right eye seem endless and clear, golden at the edges, like the eyes of a cat reflecting light. He watches the doorway, at war with himself. He doesn’t want to open the door and find someone who will hurt him. But he wants to be comforted, too. He would like to be comforted even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it. But it could be Anti. It could just be Anti, or Red to pull him by the hair back to his room, or someone he doesn’t even remember who wants to hurt him. He sits up, feeling anxious, grateful for the softness of the toy in his hand. He doesn’t care if it’s childish right now. He just wants to feel okay.

Anonymous asked: We'll be with you wherever you go, Dapper

He nods once. Right. You’re with him. Okay.

bupine asked: who's that at the door? think it's one of your brothers? i don't think it's anti, but i could be wrong. are you gonna open it?

Dapper climbs to his feet even as the figure at the door lets out a sigh. He tiptoes towards the door and feels the other still, noticing his movement on the other side, waiting patiently for Dapper to make his move. He puts his hand on the doorknob and pushes it gently open, staring out with one big blue eye.

The face looking back at him is familiar, and he’s grateful despite the fact that Anti too shares this face with him. His brother cocks his head at him, smiling real gentle at him, trying to be comforting and slow. Dapper’s glad. He feels like he could fall apart.

The room they’re in is a hectic mess. It almost makes him laugh. Clothes and papers and trash and dishes are scattered over the furniture and floor, a Switch and a DS somewhere in the mix and a row of nice caps lined up on the top of one drawer. One wall is lined in baby and toddler pictures of a pair of small, dark-haired kids JJ doesn’t recognize. Someone’s kicked off their Converse by the door.

Dapper smiles and looks back at the person who’s come to get him. His hair is short at the sides and fluffy on the top. He wears a black hood and colorful shorts. He doesn’t remember exactly what all of his siblings used to look like - this person seems so much younger even if only a few years separate this moment from the present - but between his appearance and this room, Dapper thinks he must know who this is. Trick.

No… that wasn’t his name.

It was something different, he doesn’t… he doesn’t quite recall.

“There’s my guy,” says not-Trick fondly, smiling at him. “Doing okay, tough stuff?”

Dapper can’t help the small smile on his face. He rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue in disapproval at being teased, and not-Trick chuckles, stepping back from the door to let him step out.

Anonymous asked: I think I have a hunch on who the person behind the door is, but I really hope i'm wrong

Dapper’s eyes flicker with fear. He turns to glance at you, confused.

“What have you got there?” asks not-Trick. “Camera?”

Dapper shrugs, not sure how to explain. He stares up at his brother, trying to remember his name, chewing on his lip.

“Still nervous?” he asks gently.

Dapper can’t help but nod. He is. He really is. All the time, he feels like. He just wants… he just wants…

He holds out his arms uncertainly. His brother smiles and, without hesitation, moves forward to pull him into a hug, wrapping his arms around him, letting him bury his face in his shoulder.

“I’m really glad you’re here, JJ,” he says. “You know that, don’t you? We all are.”

JJ whimpers and curls his fingers into the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck.

bupine asked: i think that might be chase, if you need to remember his name. be careful, dap.

Chase, that’s it, Chase. He likes the sound of it. He turns his face into his neck and makes his best approximation of the name, hissing air from between his teeth. “Ayy-sssss.”

“Ssssh,” answers his brother, chuckling. “That’s right, that’s me.”

cest-mellow asked: chase, i think you call him c- happy? that’s his name. and he loves you very, very much.

Dapper grins. Stop that, that’s sappy. But it makes him really glad. He hugs him tighter and makes him laugh.

“Okay, little man?” he asks.

“Okay, yeah.”

“You are tough stuff, wasn’t joking. Is there anything you need?”

He shrugs, looking around. He doesn’t know. Maybe to see the others? If they’re here? If they’re safe? If they’re not having their heads beaten in against the counter of the sink?

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, rubbing JJ’s back. “Stay with me, Jay. It’s okay.”

pine-storm-season asked: His name is Chase, Jameson. Do you remember more about him now?

Hmm. He glances around.

Certainly he thinks this room is familiar, now that he sees it. He thinks the babies are Chase’s babies, but he doesn’t remember them, not even a flash of their memory. It hurts his chest. The room is messy and loud and enthusiastic in its own way. He thinks that’s things that Chase used to be. But Trickshot - though he’s happier these days than he has been in some time - is often quiet and nervous and bitter, keeping everything arranged in his nests, close at hand, protected. He doesn’t have the wildness he used to have. Dapper stares down at the ground, curling his fingers through Chase’s hair, wishing he could hold on to the memory of him forever.

cest-mellow asked: is anyone else in this place with you? are you in a house?

“Are the others here?” asks Dapper.

He squints his eyes up apologetically, tilting his head as he tries to think. “Ah, sorry, man, you know I’m still so slow with sign.”

Dapper doesn’t mind. He’s here and he’s learning, so that’s all that matters. He takes his hand and tugs him towards the door.

In this hallway, there are two more doors, a closed one across from Chase’s room and a bathroom at the end of the hall. On the other side, stairs. Dapper lets his feet rub against the soft carpet, pleased to see that his past self has picked out a white t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts with flamingos patterned all over them instead of something formal and uncomfortable. Fun but not too childish. Comfortable but not humiliating. It’s nice.

He moves down the stairs with an optimistic timidity, peeking his head out before he lets his body appear. His brother follows patiently behind him, letting him go at his own pace.

He can hear, in the kitchen, a pair of his siblings arguing cheerfully, teasing each other and clanking dishes as they wash them in the sink. The dining room smells of curry powder and the living room is coated in the gold light of the setting sun. A fluffy white cat is kneading her claws into a grey one. She meows when she sees them, leaping off the couch to come and wrap herself around them, purring at their legs.

Now there’s no doubt that the person next to him is not Anti. Dapper lets out a low sigh, feeling warm and content, and closes his eyes.

Anonymous asked: Can you ask to see the others JJ? Would that follow the timeline properly?

Yes, he wants to see the others. He moves into the kitchen, finding two siblings standing together at the sink, washing and drying together.

“Hellooo,” calls Blue. “Everybody feeling okay?”

Not Blue. Marvin. Dapper feels his face light up in a smile.

He looks so happy.

His hair is long and clean and lovely, tied up neatly on the back of his head, and his face is full of health and self-satisfaction. He hands the last pan to his brother and steps towards them, smiling, a cover-up with elephants printed on the thin fabric flickering in the wind from the open back door. Outside, Jameson sees a forest - but this one is not like the one he came from. Instead of pines, deciduous oak and willow and birch. JJ feels the wind in his hair.

“I think we’re doing okay.” Jameson feels him squeeze his hand. “Right, JJ?”

JJ nods, letting Marvin come closer, smiling at him.

“Good!” Marvin chirps. “But you have something behind your ear.”

He reaches beside Jameson’s hand. When he pulls away again, he is holding a big yellow rose. JJ grins shyly and takes it from him, and Marvin, his eyes glowing blue, presses a kiss into his cheek.

“Love you, James.”

“Love you,” he answers gently, patting Marvin’s hand.

“Chase, your room’s a fucking mess, by the way,” says the person holding his other hand.

JJ stops short, alarmed, turning to him.

“It’s organized chaos!” protests the person at the sink, turning to him. He has short hair too, but he wears a backwards hat and his wrists are covered in bracelets, gauges pinned into his ears. “I know where everything in there is, it’s just… everywhere.”

The person at his side laughs. Dapper supposes it must be Jackie. He relaxes again, drifting against his side, enjoying the sound of his laughter. It’s good to see Red and Trick get along. Usually, in his experience, they are enemies.

Anonymous asked: Oh thank god my hunch was wrong, that's a relief. Anyway, whatcha gonna do now Dap? Stay with Chase for some more time?

“I want to see H-healing,” says JJ, looking around at his siblings.

“He’s okay, buddy,” promises Chase, drying off the last dish and placing it in the rack. “He just cut his finger. But I bet he wouldn’t mind a visit from you.”

“Here, I’ll take you upstairs,” promises the brother holding his hand. “And we can go check on him. He should be hanging out instead of working in his room anyway, huh?”

Yeah. Dapper nods, letting himself be lead back towards the stairs. As you go, you see a familiar hallway on the ground floor - a door with newspaper clippings and pictures and notes plastered all over it, and beyond that, the room where Red and Marvin talked. Chances are you recall the sight better than Dapper does.

Anonymous asked: Oh, they all look so happy and healthy... So this was your family? This seems like the dream life. I'm even more impassioned to help you get them back in any way we can, JJ. You all deserve health and love and light again.

“This,” he says, looking around, looking back at his family, looking at the house and the forest and the cats and the sun. He takes his hand back to speak. “This… this isn’t something that I can have again.”

He holds the rose Marvin gave him carefully, petting at the flowers for a moment before sticking it into his pocket, his face downcast.

“Even if I can get them back, we won’t be the same.”

He closes his eyes for a second, moving towards Henrik’s room.

“Max thought I was hopeless,” he says. “But these days, I can’t tell the difference between that and realism. The truth is, this isn’t my family anymore. Most of us aren’t family at all. The twins love each other. That’s what remains of us. The love between them and, every now and then, in small ways, the recollections between the rest of us - the ghosts of what it was to love each other for who we were at this moment in time, and the disappointment that follows when we realize we are no longer the people that we once were, and that that love did not survive the change.

“But for this moment… for this moment, I can have it again. It’s alive inside of me. For a moment. For a moment. It’s alive.”

darkiplurrr asked: *hugs Dapper* You’re doing great and we’re proud of you!

“Thank you,” he chuckles, smiling. “That’s very nice whether or not it’s true. Thank you.”

Anonymous asked: Where are you taking us JJ? A memory? And... do you think Henrik will be okay?

“I… don’t know that H-healing will be okay in the future. I don’t know. I think, perhaps, he will not be. But for now…”

“Here, bud,” says his friend, following him up the stairs to knock on Henrik’s door.

“Come in,” answers a voice, unpained and unafraid, calm and safe.

For now he can be okay.

Dapper pushes open the door and Henrik smiles back at him from the bed, putting aside his laptop to see him. “Hey, Jamie. Is everything - ”

JJ leaps into his arms and tackles him back onto the bed, wrapping his arms around him. Henrik yelps and then laughs, hugging him with one arm and pinching him in protest with the other.

“Little terror!” he snipes, digging his fingers into his side, and Dapper squirms from being tickled. “I am under attack.”

“Yes, you are stuck,” Dapper pauses to sign before wrapping his arms around his neck again.

“I’m okay,” murmurs Henrik after a moment, rubbing gently at his back. “You know that, right? We’re safe here. You and me are safe.”

JJ feels tears welling in his eyes. To think that they all used to feel safe.

“It’s not fair, H,” he says, pulling back. “I just want to keep all of you safe. But I don’t know if you even know that. And the truth is I still love him too no matter what he does to me. I don’t know why. I’m a coward.”

“What are you talking about? You’re going too fast for me. James?”

He sighs and buries himself in Henrik’s shirt. He just wants to stay here.

“I’m sorry, H.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, my heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

Anonymous asked: Sorry, but you're wrong Dap. Love did survive it. You saw how hard Henrik fought for Blue not to be possessed. You saw Red care for you, fight for you, be happy and loved as himself for those days with Max. We saw the love still alive between Trick and Blue while you all were separated, even though they're not "twins". It's still there, in familiar and different ways. It's still inside all of you.

Dapper sighs, stroking his fingers through Henrik’s beard. His brother stares back at him, worried. It isn’t so different from sitting on the bed with Blue while Dok paces, trying to find ways to protect him.

Maybe pieces. Maybe pieces are still there.

Anonymous asked: Time changes people. Trauma changes people. It can't be easily reversed if it can be reversed at all. But time can heal, even if it's only a little. The family around you now is just a memory but recovering just a fraction of who they were will be worth it. It's hard to move forward when you don't know if things will be okay but you'll accomplish a lot more moving forward than going back. Even if things are never returned to normal, it's still worth more than what Anti has tried to reduce you to

Henrik’s bed is warm and comfortable. Henrik’s body is steady beside him, his hands gentle on his own body. And he feels safe and well and alright, and Henrik is here, and Henrik is okay, and Henrik loves him.

Things have changed, yes. But maybe… maybe with the bits and pieces that remained, the bits and pieces that have been strong enough to survive torture and amnesia and separation, the bits and pieces that have been stronger even than Anti and his hatred - maybe they can be the foundation to rebuild.

JJ stares at Henrik. Dapper stares at Henrik. The longing in his chest has not gone quiet - the longing not for death, as he thought it was, but for happier times to come. The longing that he mistook for suicidality. He never wanted to die. He just wanted to hope again. Just a little. Just enough.

For a moment, that longing is content.

Anonymous asked: You're right, Jay, you all can't go back to this. But you are where you are now, loved and with family, and you can enjoy that. And given time, with the brothers of your own time and all the friends you still have, you'll be able to move forward. But for now, you're here, and you can focus on that. Here you are. :)

“Want to just lie with me a while?” asks Henrik.

He can just be here. He can just be here for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” murmurs Henrik, stroking his hand across his hair once before turning back to the door, smiling at the figure still standing there. “You heading out soon?”

“If you’ve got everything covered,” he answers warmly, smiling at the both of them.

“You look tired.”

“Mh, a little. I’m okay.” He shrugs and stretches out his arms, digging his knuckles slightly into his eyes.

Dapper jolts, sitting up straight.

The man stares back at him, frowning.

“You okay, Jameson?”

On his left arm, a neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo JJ does not remember.

A neat, symmetrical map of a tattoo Jackie does not have.

This isn’t his brother.

Anonymous asked: Jamie, we think that might be Jack, the creator. But don't panic, it's okay. He's nice right now.

What does he say to him?

What does he do?

He remembers -

Anti moving towards him.

“Leave them the fuck alone! You give them back to me now or I’m going to make you regret I ever fucking created you!”

He remembers -

Blood on his face and a fierce scream of rage, his right eye neon green, the iris glowing like Marvin’s used to, the left iris silver and ringed in pure black. Brown eyes, blue eyes, green, mismatched, unnatural, supernatural, changing, constantly, as fast as Anti’s can.

“You can’t kill me, Anti, not in any way that means anything.”

He remembers -

Shaking in the corner, that fucking rope around his throat, his hands bound, his mind storming and his brain unmedicated, hallucinating and delusional and so confused and afraid he thought it might kill him. He knew it would kill him if he didn’t act.

But Anti told him no!

He remembers something breaking inside of him.

He remember the snap.

And then -

Blankness in his eyes, just for a moment.

Horror in his eyes.

“Jamie, what did you do?”

Jameson is tearing himself off of Henrik’s bed almost without realizing it, his breaths panting from his mouth, his heart racing in his chest.

“I didn’t mean to!” scream his hands. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to make you forget!”

“JJ! Stop! Calm down, man, calm down. It’s okay!”

“I was scared that he would hurt you! That was all! That was all!”

He catches Jameson’s hands and pulls them to his chest. They are left staring at each other, twin confusion in their eyes, twin distress.

“Jack.” He pulls against his grip to sign it. “Jack.”

“Jamie.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Jamie, I’m here.”

Jack holds his head between his hands and draws him close, and their foreheads fall together, and Jameson is known in the gaze of the man who created him.

cest-mellow asked: how much time do you have left here, jameson?

He grips his clock in a shaking hand, blinking his eyes rapidly.

The countdown is continuing. He has twenty, maybe fifteen minutes left.

But he can’t use them. This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry,” he cries. “You don’t know how much. I broke everything and now you’re not here to help my brothers get free.”

“Tell me what’s wrong,” says Jack, and if Jameson didn’t know better, he would think for a second that his friend’s eyes were silver instead of blue. “And I will make it better.”

“I have to go.”

“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. I will fix it for you. I am always going to be there to fix it if you need me.”

“That’s not true! It’s not your fault but that’s not true. It’s my fault.”

Anonymous asked: It's okay, Jameson. You're safe. I don't know what you're remembering, but you're safe.

“No one’s here but you and me,” says Jack. “You and me and the others. You’re okay and I will keep it that way.”

Jameson huffs out a breath, closing his eyes.

“I would tell you not to blame yourself,” he says. “But the truth is, you won’t even remember who I am to feel guilt for me.”

He stops the time on his stopwatch and lets the silver river devour him whole again, whisking him back to the present. And that - that’s the end of it. He’s gone. That’s it.

Or it should be.

But in the river beside him, in the crashing waves of his power, in the screaming of the storm, there is still someone beside him, his eyes glowing twin silver.

“Listen to me!” Jack shouts, standing steadier even than Jameson in the belly of the storm, the wind whipping his hair. “Listen! You are exactly what I created you to be! Do you understand?”

Jameson crashes to the ground, stunned, gritting his eyes against his own power.

“You are all what I created you to be! Don’t let anyone try to take that from you because it will always, always, always be true, Jameson!”

“It’s not enough!” Jameson signs back desperately, not even sure if he can see, not even sure if he can understand, not even sure if he’s here at all. It’s impossible, isn’t it? Impossible that he can see him through time, impossible that someone else can move through this place the way he can. Impossible that someone else understands what is to hold power like this. “It’s not enough to be what you made me to be! I’m not enough!”

“You are worthwhile all on your own,” answers Jack, fierce as the sky around them. “But if you are in trouble and I am not there, I didn’t make any of you to fight alone. Be enough together. I’m not perfect, Jay, but I promise you - I did everything I could to make the five of you into enough to be safe from him. To give you the weapons and the story to be safe from him, even if it gets derailed sometimes. I meant you all for happy endings, JJ. Trust your brothers. Trust yourself. You are exactly what I created you to be! And you are always, always, always my - ”

Jameson sits up straight in the rose-scented bathwater, gasping for air.

Jack is gone.

The bathroom is silent.

He sits up straight in the bath, staring at the wall, his mouth open in shock. The last ray of sunset turns one eye clear and gold and endless. As though he can see another world in front of him.

I meant you all for happy endings, JJ.

He puts a hand over his heart. He can feel it beating fast. He can feel himself alive.

cest-mellow asked: are you okay james? what are you gonna do now?

“I… I…”

The bathroom door slams open.

Anti stands there staring at him.

Eyes huge. Chest heaving.

When he speaks, his voice is a shattered whisper.

“I heard someone,” he says. “I heard someone talking.”

JJ stares at him, panting. He shakes his head slowly.

“I heard someone!” repeats Anti, a little louder. His hand rises, falters, rests over Blue’s heart. “I heard… I heard…”

The water laps softly at JJ’s body, gone lukewarm. The lights buzz quietly and the crickets sing. The dark shape of a bird flickers past the window and Anti shudders, backing away, shaking his head.

“I thought I heard…”

“It’s just me, Anti,” says Dapper. “It’s just me in the bath.”

Anti closes his eyes, shaking his head. He puts a hand over his eyes for a moment and lets out a long, trembling breath.

“Come to bed,” he says. “Five minutes. I need to lie down. Blue’s mind plays tricks on me and I’m tired.”

“Okay, Anti. I’m coming.”

“Good,” says Anti, glancing at him as he turns to leave. “Yes, good, just… come quickly.”

“Okay.”

He leaves him alone with you. There is water lapping, and crickets singing, and the flicker of a bird.

JJ turns you away and climbs out of the bathtub.

Anonymous asked: What did you hear Anti?

“Nothing,” he spits at you, whirling on you with bright blue eyes. “Nothing, just… it was nothing.”

The door to the bathroom pushes open and Dapper steps out, looking small and sweet in his big dinosaur hoodie. Anti relaxes a little, sitting on the bed and waiting for him. “Come here,” he beckons, snapping his fingers at him. “Come on, bedtime. Geez, you smell like shampoo. Don’t use so much of those scented things next time.”

“Can’t help it, Anti. That whole bathroom smells like nice stuff.”

“Just lie down,” says Anti, tugging him towards him.

Anti finds a comfortable position and lets out a long sigh, wrapped around his little brother’s body.

“Your heart’s beating fast,” he mumbles.

Dapper doesn’t answer. They fall back to silence.

It’s dark by the time Anti speaks again.

“Do you ever think this isn’t what we were meant to be doing?”

Dapper stares at the ceiling, not sure what to say.

“Maybe I was supposed to die that night Marvin and Jackie beat me down to a wisp of a spirit and took you from me. Maybe that was supposed to be it.”

Dapper doesn’t know. Dapper doesn’t remember.

“Do you remember when it was just the two of us?” whispers Anti, lying close to him on the pillows. His hands are around his waist. “Do you ever think about it?”

Dapper looks over at him.

“Sometimes,” he signs meekly.

“Hm.” Anti rubs at his sides mindlessly, his eyes distant. “It was a different time.”

“It was a different story.”

“Yes,” says Anti. “I guess it was. This is a better one, isn’t it, my brother? All six of us together?”

Dapper doesn’t know what to say.

Anti does not seem to expect an answer.

“But sometimes I think about when it was just the two of us,” murmurs Anti. “Sometimes I think about that.”

Dapper feels something in the pocket of his hoodie. He blinks and reaches down for it, trying not to disturb his brother, and pulls it out. In his hands, a single yellow rose.

Dapper looks over at Anti. Anti is asleep.

#chapter four #jse egos #writers of jack

6 notes · View notes

shadowsfascination · 4 years ago

Text

Sonamy YAAU - Irreversible [Chapter 15 - B]

Impatient and restless as ever a blue hedgehog footed in circles through a dark cave, trying to make up his mind. He would sit back on a flat rock and toss up a red emerald only to catch it again. Then he would rise up and start walking again. The resolution that had landed inside him to proceed and indeed go through with this red emerald stuff was gone when he woke up this morning- highly unnerved by a vivid dream. One that had awoke all kinds of questions in his mind that he wasn’t able to shake off. And it wasn’t like him to be this unnerved. Having come to terms about his feelings for Amy had robbed Sonic of his care-free signature attitude. It was extremely annoying for him because he felt like he couldn’t face this problem the way he used to face all the other issues in his life. Running away wasn’t an option because Mobius needed him to fight the oppression from the A.R. and talking to Amy about it wasn’t either. If anything, he didn’t want her to find out. He’d be humiliated but most importantly: nothing would be the same if she knew. Talking to Tails about it last night was highly uncomfortable for him enough. Neither of them had ever had dated someone before so they shared the lack of experience there. And even though Tails was a couple of years younger than Sonic, he still didn’t take any interest in girls or kissing and everything. It appeared to Sonic that Tails might have a different reason for that than he himself; a girlfriend would slow him down and rob him of his freedom… So he thought for a very long time, until he now had found a new interest in Amy all of the sudden. The dream of last night, in which Amy returned his feelings, kissed him with her rosy lips and chose him over Shadow was proof of that. Immediately he felt guilty for even the tiniest bit of desire to have her instead of Shadow, who he now had come to deeply respect. The swirl of feelings of hope, joy, guilt and surprise overwhelmed him. He had never had dreams like this one before and it had made him doubt what to do. He shook the upcoming thoughts off, tossed the emerald up once more and caught it with ease and confidence: he was going forth with the plan. He had to get over this! “Sonic? Are you in here?” Of all the times, why now? Why her? Sweet chaos! You gotta be kidding. It was almost completely dark in here, so maybe if he kept really quiet, she’d go away.. How did she know where he was anyway? His wristwatch caught his eye and he drew a long and heavy sigh. His location was on and so his marker was trackable for anyone in his friend list- including Amy of course. “Sonic! I need to talk to you! It’s urgent!” Her voice was drawing near and he heard the tiny chunks of stone crackle under her shoes while she was stepping closer to him. “Are you in here? I can’t see a thing!” Suddenly he was blinded by the spotlight she turned on and he almost never felt so embarrassed before- as realization dawned that he had yet to explain why he was hiding in this dark cave, ignoring her. To make things worse his tongue felt tied. Sonic swallowed: “A-amy! What brings you here?” He smiled at her in discomfort while in search of where to put his hands in a way that wasn’t unnatural, but failed. Where on Mobius did he leave them before? “Don’t act so casual with me.” At least she thought he was being casual. “How else would I act?” She looked at him with a worried expression. “Please don’t go through with it.” The blood in his hands and feet seemed to draw away. His hands got sweaty and his stomach twisted and churned. He clenched the red emerald in his hands, tiring his fingers from the cramp. She knew! “Is this why we barely seen anything from you for the last weeks?” He remained silent. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? I thought we were friends!” “It’s not easy to talk about you know. I’ve never felt anything like this before. And, I… I didn’t want to jeopardize our friendship! It would’ve been for the best. And besides, guys don’t really talk about these things much anyway.” “It would only have worked if I were totally oblivious about it.” “You weren’t, then?” “I suspected something because you were acting so strange in the cave when Shadow took me home. And then afterwards you didn’t check in on me?! That’s so unlike you.” “I know. I’m sorry.” “I started to think that you didn’t care! But then it dawned to me. That you might care too much after all.” A quick flashback of his Chaos Engery Transfer in the cave passed by in his mind. “Did you share that vision with me then, back in the cave?” “I did,” she confessed. “My memory was a little blurry at first, but I regained it later.” “We’ll need a new plan than.” Sonic sat down and leaned with his back against the cave wall. Amy sat down next to him and it made him nervous. She placed a hand on his knee. She asked him what he exactly felt for her and he told her everything: the fear of suddenly losing her, how he thought of her as amazing, kind, strong and brave and that he didn’t see a future without her in it. How he suddenly was filled with love at the moment he transferred his Chaos Energy to her and how he didn’t know how to act. The fear of ruining their friendship and how annoying it was that he didn’t know what to do. How he lost himself in it and how it led to this stupid Chaos emerald legend-thing. And then there was Shadow, who was more of a friend to him now than he had been a rival. He didn’t want to be a burden to anyone, so he tried to get rid of this ridiculous emotional rollercoaster that he was placed in without approval. Amy nodded while she listened to him. “Sweetie, I knew you loved me. I don’t know though if it’s a romantic kind of love.” “What?” He eyes widened with the possibility of and escape. “I mean: are you attracted to me?” “How would I know?” “Do you want to kiss me?” He looked deeply into her eyes, heating up in distress of not knowing. “Ames, you’re gorgeous, but it doesn’t matter if I do. You’re with Shadow and you’re happy. Right?” “I am… And I can’t believe I’m gonna say this but, Sonic, I’m not the girl I used to be. I’ve been trying to catch your eye for so many years… Even though my love for you was a great part of my strength, it’s been also exhausting. I just gave up at some point. I didn’t believe you would ever want me like this… And I got older, more serious, focussed on my studies and became less clingy, haha. Then Shadow and I became a couple. He is amazing and treats me so well. He’s secretly such a gentleman.”

“I get that. It’s just too late, isn’t it?” “I guess. I just don’t want to open that book again, Sonic.” “Kind of ironic. I’m never late.” “There’s a first time for everything, right?” “True. How did you know what I planned on doing by the way?” “Tails told me. I dragged it out of him. He feels horrible. You should go see him.” Sonic looked at her in annoyance, unsure if he cared at all at this point and in doubt who he blamed more: Tails or Amy. “Anyway: I’ll just have to get over this...” He said with a regained confidence and calm heart. It didn’t hurt that bad after all. ”Can you help me with that?” “How?” “Maybe you could go back to being a crazy obsessed teenager again? That drove me far from you, didn’t it? Or I could ask Shadow about all the things he doesn’t like about you. Oh! I can think of one thing already: you’re a hothead.” “Are you aware that you’re still talking?” She snarled at him, trying to hold her temper, squeezing his hand so tight that it hurt. “Ah! Okay, I get it.” The two of them giggled at each other and suddenly burst into inexplicable laughter. For the first time in weeks the air felt cleared and the vibe between these two friends was like it always had been. He looked up to her and then rested his head on her shoulder, heaving a sigh. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess.” “It’s okay.” We’re cool?” “Always.”

#shadamy #sonamy #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #Amy Rose the Hedgehog #Shadowsfascination #sonic_related #sonic_fanfic #yaau #Young adults alternate universe #sidestory

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that-typical-ty · 4 years ago

Text

Spencer woke up to a splitting headache. His eyes not being quite able to focus on his surroundings. He thinks back to the last thing he can remember.

He returned home after a week long case at 10:28 pm. He placed his bag on the couch, after slipping off his shoes by the door. He then went to his kitchen to get a drink. When he went to grab a cup something heavy hit the back of his head. Now he was here. Hands strapped down to either chair arm, ankles strapped to the legs. The chair was old and wooden, possibly he could break out of it, but he was still dizzy so he wouldn't be able to get far even if he did.

The room was pretty dark, the only light coming though a few small holes in the wall. The space was small, metal walls.

Ah, all this thinking hurt his head even more.

He didn't have to wait long before he heard a creak and saw more light stream in from the doors in front of him.

"Oh good, you're awake." The silhouetted man said as he walked in. His voice was a deeper pitch than Reid's and seemed to be filled with a genuine happiness. "Didn't want you out for too long." The man seemed to be meddling with something, setting something up possibly.

Reid decides to do what he was taught, profile, empathize. "What's your name?"

The man laughed "uh uh uh," he said as if telling a child no. "All in good time, Spencer." The man spat out the name as if it was distasteful. "That's what you are called now right? Spencer? Ha, pitiful." The man steps back from the structure he put up. He pokes the top of it and a red light turns on as he steps behind it adjusting where it points. Not another camera. The man steps out of the room a few times each time bringing something back with him. Two chairs, some cords, a briefcase. Once he's finally set up he walks over to Reid who has been trying to figure out where they are, who this man is, and what all the stuff is for.

"Now," he says with a smile, "we are going to talk to some friends of yours. You will answer some questions, honestly, if you lie or try to pull any tricks, there will be consequences. Okay?" Reid doesn't answer right away making the man go from smiling to enraged in a second. He smacks him hard across the face. "I said, OKAY?"

Reid nods quickly "okay, okay." He whispers out, voice cracking a bit.

The man smiles again "great!" His voice is happy again. He walks back over to the computer typing a few things in before cheerfully saying "and we're live!"

× Back at the BAU ×

Morgan and Emily were laughing when JJ walked up to them "Has anybody seen Reid? He's not picking up his phone." She seemed worried. Most of them had been concerned about this last case, it was so similar to the Tobais Hankle case most of the team had kept a close eye on Reid the whole time.

All she got was two 'no's and a few more worried faces. "He's never late." Emily stated. "Here, let me try calling him." Her call goes unanswered as well.

Morgan sighs, the worry lines increasing on his forehead "We should check on him. Maybe this last case affected him more than we thought." The girls nod. Morgan let's Hotch knows what's going on and he gives him permission to check out their young genius.

When he gets to Reid's appartment he feels a slight wave of unease. He knocks on the door just for it to creak open under the pressure of his knuckles. He draws his weapon, pushing open the door further. "Reid? You here kid?" Morgan scans the appartment. Reids shoes. Piles of books. Reids shoulder bag. An open fire escape window. A broken glass. Some blood. Shit. Morgan holsters his weapon and dials Hotch. "He's gone, there's a broken glass, some blood surrounding it, the fire escape window is open. Looks like he was taken, Hotch."

"Alright, I'll let the team know, I'll send Prentiss and Rossi out." Hotch explains.

Hotchner walks out of his office and calls out for his team to meet him in the conference room. They all file in soon after him. "Reid has gone missing. Morgan went to his house and may have found signs of a struggle. Prentiss, Rossi, I want you to-"

Garcia bursts into the room, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. "Sir, you need to come see this." The team follows their distressed tech analyst. She opens the door to her tech room as she starts to explain what happened. "S-sombody hacked me. A-and they put a video feed on my computer. And- just look!" They do and what they see shocks them to their core. It's Reid, tied to a chair, blood on his arm and a light welt on his cheek. "I'm trying to track it now but I'm comming up with nothing."

"Now we are going to play a little game." A voice says cheerfully from out of the scene. Spencer glares at something behind the camera, following it with his eyes. A figure steps into frame with a brief case. Hotch is already calling Morgan to come back, informing him on what is happening.

"So, Spencer," the man said the name like he was mocking it. "How has my boy been?" Emphasizing the word 'boy'.

Spencer looked confused. "I don't know who you are, how can I be your anything?" The man laughs slapping a hand on Reids shoulder, the team doesn't miss the flinch.

"Haha, yeah, I guess it has been a while, hasn't it?" The man stands. "Well allow me to reintroduce myself. I'm Francis." He does an exaggerated bow with a smirk. Spencer stiffens, eyes widening in fear. Spencer tries to push himself further away from the older man. "Ah, so you do remember me." The man looks amused. "You certainly look different from the last time I saw you." He caresses Reids cheek.

"Why are you doing this?" Reid bites back. "I left you behind eleven years ago! Why now?" Reid was getting angry, emotional.

The team watches shocked at their youngest member, they had never seem this side of him before.

"Oh Reid, you don't get to ask the questions here." He opens the suitcase pulling out a what looked like the end of a fishing rod, without the line loops. He harshly smacks Reid across the face, a gash appearing on his cheek. "But~ if you must know... you are not the first in this mission. I'm just trying to clean up the filth of the world." The mans voice gets darker, angrier as he continues. "Your kind has tainted our world and I need to clean you up! To remind you what you really are! Scum that are just FAKING FOR ATTENTION!" He hits Reid again. He grabs Reids face and points it at the camera. "Why don't you tell them what you are, what you've done."

Reid shakes his head. "No, please... no." Tears slip silently down his face. The rest of the team are tearing up as well. Morgan just walked in. "I-I can't."

Hotch takes his role as leader back. "Garcia," the colorful lady snaps her attention to him. "Find out if Reid has any past with a man named Francis. We need to find him before he hurts him anymore." Let's try to find out where he is, profile this Francis and find out his next move before he can make it." The team nods and starts to do what they do best.

"Admit your sins." Francis' voice has a dangerous tone. "Admit, repent, and be forgiven."

Spencer looks absolutely terrified. "A-admit what?"

He lashes the poor boy yet again. "Don't act like you don't know!" He quiets down. "Everything. How much you enjoyed that day on the post. What Mr. Wyatt did, and how you loved every second of it. What a special snowflake you are. Who I am to you." He gets closer to the crying boy. "Tell them everything."

Reid takes a breath, composing himself the best that he could. Then looks Francis in the eye. "This isn't about me, is it?" The older man looks taken a back. "This is about you. I remember you, your father. He was always such a mean man. You told me that. He was a strict Christian who believed that homosexuality was a disease, a sin. But he never knew you were bisexual. When he found out he must have been furious."

Francis starts to get agitated. "Shut up. You know nothing."

Reid gives a sad chuckle. "I know more than you think. You got caught. The next day you had me to prove to your dad you were exactly how he wanted you to be."

"Shut up."

"Really, a twelve year old? You couldn't find someone your own age? Was I just easier?" Spencer gets louder, expressing his own rage.

"I said SHUT UP!" He lashes Spencer again. He reached into the case and pulled out a needle. "I heard you really liked this stuff. Dilaudid, right?"

Reid panics seeing the needle. "No no no no. Please! No!" He watches as the plunger goes down. He slips into the oblivion.

"Spencer." His mother said. "What a wonderful name." The nine year old kid broke down as his mother pulled him into a hug. "You know I will always love you, you are the best son a mother could ask for."

"Thank you, I love you too." He squeaks out.

...

"You're WHAT?" His father shouted. Spencer takes a few steps back. "I will NOT raise such a FREAK in my house!"

"I'm sorry." He whispers curling into himself as his father looms over him. "I'm sorry."

His mother steps in before a swing can come. "Leave him alone!"

"Fine, you wanna raise a FREAK? I'm leaving!" And he walked out the door.

"I'm sorry, mom." She goes to comfort her son. "I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry." Reid mumbles as he comes to. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Francis asks as if he was genuinely curious.

"I-" Reid clears his throat. "I made my dad leave. It was my fault."

"How did you do that?" Same innocent tone in his voice.

"I told him. About me. Who I wanted to be. My mom was supportive, I thought he would be too." He stifles a sob.

"What else are you sorry about?" Francis asks, more deviously.

"The goal post." Reid looks up challengingly. "That's one you want to know right?" Francis stays quiet. Spencer looks to the ground as he recalls the memory. "A-after the football team was done with me, they left me. Standing there, tied up, naked. My geometry teacher got me down, but it came at a price. He-" Spencer paused biting back tears. "He wanted to have some fun with me too." He chokes back a sob turning to face Francis again. "Is that what you want?" He cried.

"Now tell them what you are." He says sauntering up to the broken agent. "Then I can free you before you commit another sin."

× BAU ×

Garcia hit the call button for the conference room, bubbling with anticipation. As soon as she heard the click she started letting out a rush of information. "Hotch, I found something about Francis."

"What did you find?" He asked, attention fully on her.

"Well, first his name is Francis Thompkins. Reid said he got rid of him eleven years ago so I went back. Reid would have been in high school. So I crossed everyone that went to a high school near where Reid lived with the name Francis. And I got a quite a few hits. But, when he said something about him being used, I looked into their histories and one had an accusation of sexual assault of a minor. A-a twelve year old. Who ended up dropping the charges." Garcia lost momentum towards the end. Everyone knew who the kid was.

"What about now a days? Businesses, house, anything in his name?" Hotch requests.

"Uh," Garcia types away on her keyboard. "Yes, yes. He works at a local restaurant, has a house and a storage unit in his name. Sending info to your phones now."

"Thanks Garcia." Hotch says as he hangs up. "Let's go." Everyone rushes out of the conference room, half going to the house and half to the storage unit.

× Reid ×

"No." He says firmly. "Not like this."

"Such a shame, I'll just have to send you to hell like the sinner you are then." He bends down to the briefcase one last time and pulls out a revolver. "And to think, you could have grown up to be beautiful, but you gave it all up." He stares at the gun as if looking at a loved one. "I really am going to miss you Sarah. You never did leave my mind, I was so happy to be your first, why not be your last?" His devilish smirk making Spencer go into a panic.

× BAU ×

"Yeah, Hotch we are almost at the storage unit." Morgan spoke weaving through traffic.

"We couldn't find anything at his house. His car is gone too." Hotchner states "Emily, JJ, and I are doing a sweep to see, if they aren't at the storage unit, where they might be headed."

"Alright, we'll call in if we find anything." Morgan hangs up as they enter the storage lot. They look around for the unit in Francis Thompkins name. A134. A red pickup is parked in front of it. They call Hotch and tell him that he's there before approaching the unit. The bottom of the door was left open. They can hear crying coming from inside.

"Please, just stop. Kill me. Please." They can hear their youngest member sobbing.

Morgan and Rossi carefully lift the unit door and prep their guns.

"FBI! Hands where I can see them!" Rossi shouts. Francis obliges. Putting his hands in the air. The gun was left by the case what he started to have his fun. "Stand up and turn around, slowly." He does, and when he's fully turned both men are disgusted. They realise what the man had been doing to their poor boy, who was bent over the chair hands and feet tied, pants pulled down. Both men try to control their anger. "On your knees, hands on your head." He does as he's told sending one last smirk to Reid, which finally breaks him as he starts to sob. Morgan helps Reid while Rossi cuffs Francis.

"I'll see you again one day Sarah." Francis cackles as he is dragged away by Rossi.

"I'm a boy." Reid mumbles. "Right?" He looks to Morgan.

"Yes, you are a boy. Always have been, always will be. No matter what that bastard says." He hugs the trembling kid. He quickly cuts the bonds on his wrists and ankles. Reid pulls up his pants. Morgan helps Spencer out of the storage unit and over towards the car.

Rossi meets them half way. "Police, ambulance, and the rest of the team are on their way." Spencer just nods. Morgan gently sets him down so he is leaning against the building. Before anyone knows what's happening Spencer is unconscious.

...

Spencer wakes to the sound of voices and beeping. He tries to open his eyes but it's so bright, he closes them again with a groan. He feels someone grab his arm. That gets his attention. He yanks his arm away, breathing erratic, eyes wide, trying to recognize who just grabbed him. "M-morgan?" He calms, settling back into the bed. "What happened?" He looks around the room noticing some of his other team member scattered about, not dating to move, as if they might spook him.

Aaron is the first to break the silence. "You had a mild concussion, and the drugs in your system were still in effect, so the doctors think, when the adrenaline wore off you crashed." Reid just nods at the information.

Reid looks down at his lap. "How much did you see?"

Morgan bites this bullet. "Almost everything, we didn't see the last few minutes, even Garcia turned it off, we knew you wouldn't want us to see you like that."

"I'm sorry." Tears start to well up in his eyes.

"Hey," Rossi makes his way toward the bed. "You have nothing to be sorry about." He rests a hand on the kids shoulder. Reid looks up meeting the mans kind gaze. "If anything we should be sorry for not finding you sooner." Reid pulls Rossi into a hug, grabbing Morgan too. JJ and Garcia walk in with coffee for everyone, and a jello for Spencer. He gives them both a hug and happily starts savoring his little gelatinous snack.

After a few minutes of banter and jokes Reid decides now or never. "Hey, I have something I need to tell you." The team's attention is focused on Reid in an instant. "It's about Francis, you deserve to know how I know him." The team stays quiet. "When I was in high school, I used to be a tutor.

"Hey, you must be that genius that's supposed to teach me history, right?" The older brunette boy says sitting across the table.

Reid adjusts his glasses. "Yeah, and you're Francis Thompkins, right?" The boy nods. "Alright, so first what subject is it and I need a time and place on where to meet you for your sessions."

The older boy slid closer to Reid. "Alright, American History, 1950-1980s important events and how about." He takes a piece of paper and a pen and scribbles his address on it putting it in Reids front pocket for him. "My place, at 5?" He leaves his hand there, it makes Reid uncomfortable so he scoots away.

"Sure, I'll see you at 5." Reid quickly gets up and walks away.

× 5:00 ×

Reid knocks on the door of the address he was given. Francis opens the door with a wide smile. "Alright, where should I put my stuff?" He asks walking in.

"My room is fine, follow me." He leads Reid to his room, filled with half naked ladies on posters, and bands. Reid places his bag by the end of the bed and bends to dig though it when he feels something pull on his jeans. He stands back up and notices the smirk plastered on Francis' face, something in his eyes he had never seen before.

"Then it was a blur, everything happened so fast. I couldn't stop him." Spencer held back his tears.

"Hey, it's not your fault." Morgan placed a hand on Reid's shoulder. He leaned into the larger man.

"I'm transgender." He says softly. No one says a thing. "It happened before I fully transitioned. Maybe if I told him I was a boy, he wouldn't have... if my dad didn't hate me and enroll me in the school with my dead name..."

"You can't blame yourself for someone else's sick actions." Aaron said firmly. "There will always be 'what if's."

Reid nods, "I guess you're right."

"We will always be here for you if you ever need anything, alright?" Morgan questions.

"Thank you. I love you guys." Reid mumbles, eyes becoming droopy.

"We love you too G-Man." Garcia smiles, as Reid drifts off to sleep.

They've got one hell of a road to recovery ahead of them, but what are families for?

#spencer reid needs help #hurt spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid #criminal minds oneshot #hurt and comfort #criminal minds #bau team #i did this instead of sleeping #sorry for this #i hate myself a little more after writing this #trans spencer reid #trans Spencer #trans reid #oneshot #oneshots #fanfiction #fanfic

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46ten · 4 years ago

Text

“...the desire I have to justify myself in your opinion,” Philip Schuyler and AH, part 3

See Part 1 and Part 2.

In the year 1780 I married the second daughter of General Schuyler, a Gentleman of one of the best families of this Country; of large fortune and no less personal and public consequence. AH to William Hamilton (uncle), 2May1797

Since almost all of his letters to his father-in-law were destroyed, we’re left with only glimpses and speculation for how AH felt about Philip Schuyler. He obviously considered Schuyler an important man and boasted about their connection in the letter above, but what else did he note about PS?

To the letters:

The second step I would recommend is that Congress should instantly appoint the following great officers of state—A secretary for foreign affairs—a President of war—A President of Marine—A Financier—A President of trade; instead of this last a board of Trade may be preferable as the regulations of trade are slow and gradual and require prudence and experience (more than other qualities), for which boards are very well adapted.

Congress should choose for these offices, men of the first abilities, property and character in the continent—and such as have had the best opportunities of being acquainted with the several branches. General Schuyler4(whom you mentioned) would make an excellent President of War, AH to James Duane 3Sept1780 [politicking for his father-in-law-to-be right away!]

I have received my beloved Betsey your letter informing me of the happy escape of your father. He showed an admirable presence of mind, and has given his friends a double pleasure arising from the manner of saving himself and his safety. Upon the whole I am glad this unsuccessful attempt has been made. It will prevent his hazarding himself hereafter as he has been accustomed to do. He is a character too valuable to be trifled with, and owes it to his country and to his family to be upon his guard. AH to EH, 16Aug1781

Your father has been as usual kind. He has offered me an order for money on Mr. Morris, and has given me liberty to draw upon him, though I shall probably not make use of it. If you have occasion for money you can draw upon Messrs. Stewart & Totten, Philadelphia. I will desire them to pay your drafts. 25Aug1781, AH to EH

Your father and mother are both anxious to visit you. I join with them in wishing for snow in time to enable us to set out together. They are as kind to me as ever and seem to have discovered the full extent of your worth. 26Jan1800, AH to EH

The reception he gave me was more than usually cordial;.. 22Jan1800, AH to Angelica S. Church

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How did AH want to be thought of by Philip Schuyler?

I leave it to my conduct rather than expressions to testify the sincerity of my affection for [Elizabeth Schuyler], the respect I have for her parents, the desire I shall always feel to justify their confidence and merit their friendship. AH to Catherine VR Schuyler, 14April1780

AH uses the phrase “justify myself in your opinion” twice in this draft to his new father-in-law, when accounting for why he is leaving Washington’s family:

I have given you so particular a detail of our difference from the desire I have to preserve your approbation justify myself in your opinion.

...[George Washington’s] estimation in your mind, whatever may be its amounts, I am persuaded has been formed on⟩ principles which a circumstance like of the present nature this cannot materially affect; but if I thought it could diminish your friendship for him, I should almost forego the motives that urge me to attain my own justification justify myself to you. I hope wish what I have said to make no other impression than to satisfy you I have not been in the wrong.

...You are too good a judge of human nature not to be sensible how this conduct in me must have operated....

...At the end of the war I may say many things to you concerning which I shall impose upon myself ’till then an absolute, inviolable silence.

I have written to you on this subject with all the freedom and confidence to which you have a right and with an assurance of the interest you take in all that concerns me. AH to PS, 18Feb1781, in the draft of AH’s account of his break with G. Washington.

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As a beloved son-in-law (well, the only beloved in-law, haha), AH had the standing to counsel PS on family matters:

Already have I addressed the consolation, I mentioned to you, to your Father. I have no doubt the arguments I have used with him will go far towards reconciling his mind to the unexpected step you took. AH to Angelica S Church, 8Nov1789

My fathers letters have releived me from the dread of having offended him. He speaks of you with so much pride and satisfaction, that if I did not [love] you as he does, I should be a little Jealous of his attachment. Angelica S. Church to AH, 4Feb1790

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And then we get glimpses of PS as a confidant for AH:

I have hitherto been much averse to the determination you mentioned to me, but when I reflect on the danger which your health is exposed to, an[d] the incompetent reward for the most Arduous and Important Services, and the chagrin you experience from the weakness and wickedness of those you have to contend with, I am reconciled to your Intentions. PS to AH, 5Jan1794.

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Chernow (hahaha!) has suggested that P. Schuyler and AH were not close based largely off of interpretation of this quote: “By our advices from Albany I have great reason to apprehend General Schuyler is no more. This I consider as a great loss to his family, friends and the public.” (to Jeremiah Wadsworth, 7Apr1785). Chernow reads this as a cool assessment reflective of a lack of personal attachment. I think it’s more likely that since this was a business letter, AH was formal (and he states PS’s death as “a great loss.”

AH several times expressed concern for PS:

But this morning your papa has an attack of the Gout, not particularly severe, one indeed which in a different situation would give no uneasiness—but as his strength has been of late somewhat diminished, it is impossible not to feel anxiety about him. On the whole I advise Cornelia and you to come up. He will be very glad to see you & I hope you will find him better. AH to EH, 19Apr1797

...court avocations and distress in the family have prevented anything better - General Schuyler has been critically ill, though now, as I hope, out of danger. My brother in law, Mr. Rensselaer, has just lost a favorite daughter, one and the eldest of two children, without a prospect of more. The whole has thrown a gloom upon the family and my health is not the stoutest.” AH to McHenry, 29April 1797.

It is a great comfort to me and I hope will not be marred by bad weather; so that you may all speedily arrive and without too much fatigue to sooth and console your affected Father. Now you are all gone and I have no effort to make to keep up your spirits, my distress on his account and for the loss we have all sustained is very poignant. God grant that no new disaster may befal us; entreat your father to take care of himself for our sakes, and do you take care of yourself for mine.

I write your father by this opportunity & press him to accompany you back with Kitty. This appears to me a sine qua non. Your Sister & you must not be refused. AH to EH, 13March1803

PS in turn appreciated AH’s sentiments (”Every letter of yours affords a mean of consolation) PS to AH, 16Apr1803

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I was at one point going to get into PS’s political skills (sorely lacking in AH), but am not sure I want to finish that post. But I’ll note this bit of smooth crisis control (PS to GW, 25Feb1781 - PS wrote this on the same day he wrote a letter to AH discussing the latter’s break with GW):

Your Excellency draws too favorable a conclusion when you suppose me competent to the business of the war department, but altho I feel myself far from able to conduct the charge in the manner it ought to be I would venture to accept relying that assiduity & perseverance would carry me thro, and with the less reluctance as I should have it in my power to ease you in some degree of that load of business, which with whatever facility you discharge it, cannot but be embarrassing and disagreeable as well as prejudicial to the public; but I cannot suppose, altho some may mention me for the office, that congress will be so imprudent, with respect to themselves, or indelicate in regard to me, as to offer it, since I have explicitely on another Occasion and in writing too, declared my intention never to hold any office under them, unless accompanied with a restoration of my Military Rank, And candidly pointed at the inconveniences which would result of themselves, from such a restoration, as It must necessarily give umbrage to many Officers.

I am perfectly in sentiment with you My Dear Sir that every good Citizen ought to evince his affection for his country in this awful Crisis by contributing his aid I am incapable of witholding mine where it can be given without a Sacrifice of honor, but to accept an office after what I have Stated to congress, and which you did not know, would render me compleatly contemptable.

We are exceedingly sorry that our hopes of a Speedy visit from Mrs Washington are diminished we cannot however give up the expectation of that pleasure.

Mrs Schuyler was delivered of a daughter on the 20th instant, She enjoys a share of health much beyond what is usual in such a situation, Had it been a boy I should have taken the liberty to have honored with Your name—permit me that of requesting you & your Lady to be entered as Sponsors for the Girl.

After getting a letter from AH re. the latter’s break with GW, PS states his refusal of leading the War Dept, but then follows it up with, “I wanted to name my baby after you! Will you and your wife be her godparents instead?!” Who knows what the original intention was - the PS/CVRS naming pattern was very much family names/relatives and one very close family friend (John Bradstreet) - so I think it unlikely that they were going to name their kid “George Washington Schuyler,” and it’s awesome that he throws that in there! [The kid is Catharine V R Schuyler, the younger.]

#Philip Schuyler #Alexander Hamilton #Angelica S. Church #Elizabeth S. Hamilton #George Washington

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beerecordings · 5 years ago

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if your still doing requests, can you do something of Autistic jackie being accepted even with his autism? I just need a pick me up. Today was rough. sorry if yiur not accepting requests. Feel free to ignore me if you arent. Sorry i didn't explain this the best.

Aww, of course I will try writing something for a friend who has had a rough day. Please remember though that I am not autistic, and I don’t like to write stories that are too much about Jackie’s experience - I tried to focus more on Jameson’s actions than Jackie, but I’m not sure exactly how it came off, so if I made a mistake, please correct me!! Also I wrote this in like twenty minutes so hope it’s good lol. That being said, hey, I hope you feel better soon :( let me know if you need anything, okay? You can always hit me up. I hope this helps at least a tiny bit. Love you, Nova.

“You don’t like it when I touch you, do you?”

Jackie stills, his body tensing.

He pauses the movie on the bed before them.

“I’ve noticed. I put my hand on your shoulder and you draw away. I grab your hand to get your attention and it’s like I stung you. You don’t hug anybody and no one hugs you.”

Jackie’s hands tug his zipper up, down. Up, down. Up, down. He can’t seem to meet Jameson’s eyes. He never does, really.

Jamie reaches out to set their hands close together, but does not touch, does not touch. Jackie nearly jerks back - and then, relaxes.

“It’s okay, of course,” Jameson adds quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply - ”

“Are you sure?” chokes Jackie, his voice shaking like Jameson’s never heard it shake before. Startled, his little brother stares up at him, worried now.

“Sure, course I’m sure. I didn’t realize… sorry, I didn’t realize it upset you this much.”

Jackie clears his throat and stares down at his hands, his eyes wet with tears. Distressed, Jameson clicks his tongue in a low, steady rhythm, soft and reassuring.

“Don’t want you to think I’m… I don’t know.”

Jackie sniffles and wipes at his face, doing his best to straighten up in his seat.

“Messed up,” he finishes roughly, biting down hard on his lip.

“Oh,” forms Jameson’s mouth, sympathetic now, gentle. “Of course I don’t… I would never…”

“I know, I know,” chokes Jackie, covering his face with his hands. “I know, you’d never, no one ever would, but they do, you know, they do, and I know I act - act wrong sometimes, you know? And I know it’s weird, and I’m sorry, if I could do all that stuff - hug you and touch your hand and stuff, if I could make you feel better I would but - ”

“No, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Jameson sits up, throwing off the blankets to kneel at his brother’s side, his hands demanding attention. “It’s not wrong just because it’s different!”

“And I have freak-outs and I cry like a kid and I hate it when anybody touches my stuff and I’m too loud, I know, I’m always too loud, and now I’m talking too much, I always talk too much, I’m really sorry, I’m really sorry, Jameson, I don’t mean - ”

“Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.”

It’s a steady, tangible sign. In, out. In, out. In, out.

And for a long time, they just… breathe.

Jackie’s rubbing the collar of his hoodie against his mouth. Running his hands along the soft fabric. The weight of it sits heavy and reassuring on his shoulders. He fixes his eyes on Jameson’s hands -

In, out. In, out. In, out.

- And he lets himself rock gently back and forth, squeezing his eyes shut, afraid to see his newest brother’s reaction.

Click, click. Jameson requests open eyes and Jackie obliges him, looking up to find his hands held up.

“Is it just skin?” he asks.

“Nnnhg.” Jackie grunts and shakes his head. Words are hard. He tries to sign instead. “Lots of feelings are bad.”

“But with touch, is it just skin, or should I not touch you at all?”

“Oh.” Jackie sits up straighter, rubbing at his reddened eyes. “Mostly just skin… sometimes I like the pressure of someone touching me through my clothes.”

Jameson nods, assessing.

And then he is pressing forward, just gentle, just slow, and he puts his warm heavy head on Jackie’s shoulder, and sits there, in silence.

“Like that?” he asks. “That would be okay? It doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t make a difference, however is easy for you. I would never expect anything from you that makes you unhappy, of course.”

Jackie is smiling at him, his cheeks flushed. Fuck, but he loves this new kid, this new kid Jack gave him. Fuck, but he loves this kid.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, reaching out to flick a strand of hair out of Jamie’s eyes as he draws back. “That would be okay.”

“Just no skin.”

“No skin. No. But I love the pressure, with the weighted blankets and shit, sometimes I just want to be like - fucking crushed, dude. I just want like weight, like - yeah.”

Jameson regards him carefully, still considering. Three weeks old and already such a little professional, such a little friend.

He gets to his feet and darts out of the room.

Startled, Jackie blinks after him. Did he scare him off after all? He didn’t mean - he wasn’t trying to - he just wanted -

And then Jameson is scampering back, a big smile on his face, and Jackie bursts into laughter to see him absolutely covered in every blanket he could yank out of the laundry cupboard, including an extra bed cover, and then he is plowing into his big brother and tackling him onto the mattress, giggling as Jackie yelps and reaches up to grab him, squeezing at his sides through the blanket and flipping him over to pin him down, shoving his face into the blankets up close to Jamie’s face and nuzzling in close, close, laughing and tickling him and throwing him back onto his chest, so that Jameson is one huge soft weight strewn across his stomach and shoulders, heavy and comforting and whistling out a melody of reassurance, smiling at Jackie.

“So like this,” he double-checks, scooting up higher on Jackie’s chest. “This is okay for you.”

Jackie’s laughing too hard to speak. “Yeah,” he nods, rubbing at his face, squishing Jameson’s arms beneath the bed covers. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Jameson grins, self-satisfied, and curls up better on Jackie’s chest, grabbing the laptop from the edge of the bed and pulling it close, so they can both see. “Good. Finish the movie with me?”

“Mm-hmm,” grins Jackie, beaming at him. “Yeah, good, finish the movie with me. We haven’t even see Frodo get caught yet, we got a while to go.”

“Hey! Spoilers!”

“Oh, don’t you pinch at me!”

“Don’t you pinch at - ow! Jackie!”

“Haha, such a little dork.”

“Just hit play! Ow!”

He laughs again and squishes JJ close, pressing the space bar and snuggling down in their blankets as the two little hobbits continue their way up the stairs. He feels warm, and not just cause he’s got a little brother and a mountain of blankets on top of him. And maybe it’s just skin, maybe it’s just the way that they touch, maybe it’s just one tiny accommodation for a single topping in the sundae bar of presentations that Jackie always feels like someone else loaded up for him, but fuck - fuck, he’s glad this kid is here, pressed up to his chest, like the only thing that matters is this - Here is my brother, and here is the best way to show him I love him.

“I love you,” says Jackie. He can feel his heartbeat if he holds him close enough. “I love you, Jameson.”

Jameson nods sleepily, tucked back against his chest, smiling. “Love you too,” he says, in signs Jackie learned just for him, and he’s grown to understand that the emphasis with which he signs the words is special, is certain, is true.

They’re both understanding each other better every day.

#bee writes

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official-michael-afton · 5 years ago

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We met in a Sonic parking lot

I wanted to write out something of how Mikey and @animdude-official first met... I accidentally made it more sad then I meant to but the ending is just as chaotic and gay as their relationship so AYY

Content warnings: PTSD and traumatic flashbacks, dissociation, unintentional self harm(staying in cold for too long). Read at your own risk!

It was cold. Colder than it normally was for 2 in the morning, at least. Mike sighed, tugging on the sleeves of his hoodie as if that’d offer him any more heat. When had he even gone outside? Why? He was running from something- he never goes out at 2am unless something’s causing him distress, but he can’t even remember what it was this time. Same trauma, probably? … He should probably go to therapy. Guess it didn’t matter, though. The zombie looked around, trying to figure out where he wandered off to in his spell of dissociation. Downtown Hurricane, in the parking lot of… a Sonic. Huh. Well that’s… new.

“What am I even doing…” He murmured to himself as he sat down on the concrete divider between asphalt and grass, observing how each breath he took let out a small puff of condensation. He didn’t even realize how cold he was until he looked down at his hands, observing how violently they shivered. For some reason, this made him get… mad? He tried to force his muscles to relax, but he kept shivering. Ugh, stupid body! Can it EVER do anything right?! … Can he ever do anything right?!

“Dammit…” Michael hissed at his eyes warmed up- heated by tears that started to roll down his cheeks. Why was he crying?! He wasn’t even sad, if anything he was angry! The more he got furious at himself, the more tears welled up and fell. His chest heaved as he fell into near hyperventilation, letting out one small yell of frustration before throwing his head down and holding it with his hands.

Small gasps of air before sobs echoed around him, the surrounding area might as well have faded to black as he fell out of touch with reality once again. No, no, not here, he can’t break here, not somewhere he can be vulnerable to robbery or worse…

He pulled his hands away from his head enough to look down at his hands. His shivering hands. His hands. That’s how he can ground himself, by observing what’s going on around him… what’s the exercise? 5 4 3 2 1?

5 things he can see.

His hands- His shivering hands. There’s one… the hoodie he wears all the time and really needs to wash… the old sneakers he wore- worn and scuffed but still good… the asphalt of the parking lot… the body before him-

No- NO! He’s NOT going back there! He refuses. He refuses. He won’t remember that night. He’s not there now, he’s not. He’s in a dumb parking lot. He won’t remember. Not here, not now.

4 things he can hear.

His breathing- uneven, but he’s still breathing. Unlike her- NO, NO! Next one! He can hear the faint plips as his tears fell onto the ground below him… the soft hum or an airplane far over him… the cars that drove in the parking lot, not knowing they were in the alley behind the diner-

“STOP!!!” He yelled to himself, pushing those memories back to the back of his mind, He’s NOT there, he’s NOT that child that found the body of his best friend, he’s in a GODDAMN SONIC PARKING LOT.

3 things he can feel.

The curls in his hair as he tugged at his locks again- The rain that soaked them to the bone- How cold her skin was.

“No… Please…” No matter where he tried to look, his mind was still in that alleyway. He wasn’t this adult anymore; he was a child again. He wasn’t himself. He was… staring at Charlie. They were young- he couldn’t remember how old. It was too late to save her. She was still wearing that green bracelet… the security puppet wrapped around her, soaked to the point of being broken.

2 things he can smell.

Metal. Metal. He knew what it really was, but it smelt JUST LIKE METAL.

1 thing he can taste.

METAL METAL M̴E̴T͜AL M̶E̸͢T͠A͜L̷ M̴̴̡E̶͠͠͏͟T̨͟͡͡Ą̧́͞L̶̷̕҉̶

“Um- a-are you okay?”

… That wasn’t her voice… it wasn’t his either… what?

Mike looked up, eyes wide in shock at the presence suddenly beside him. There was some adult looking down at him, looking… almost scared? Oh, they must see the body…

… Wait. No… there wasn’t some random adult that found them. No, no, that’s- that’s because he’s not… he’s not back there. He’s in the stupid Sonic parking lot… he’s not a child anymore, he grew up…

Wait. Shit. He was asked a question.

“Oh- u-um-” Mike stammered, wiping the tears from his eyes as he tried to keep his spirit in his body. Memories threatened to flood back and bring him to those awful places again, but he forced a smile while he fought. Fought to stay grounded and not make this stranger worry. “Haha, s-sorry, was I making a scene? I’m a dramatic lil dork~”

The stranger took a step back, eyes wide. Wait, what? No, Mike put on the cute act to calm them, not scare them more. Why did they look scared? What did he do wrong? Fuck, no, he can’t let his shell crack, this never happens he’s supposed to pass as FINE why can’t he JUST BE FINE-

“Do… um… do-do you want to get some milkshakes?” They pointed to the Sonic, offering a wary smile.

… What. They’re… being nice… but why? Didn’t Michael scare them? Aren’t they afraid- or at least revolted by how- how he was in the middle of a breakdown?

… and yet, them being here kept him HERE and not that alley…

“A-Are you sure? I mean- you- w-we don’t- um… know each other?”

“Well, um…” They scratched the back of their head, fumbling just as much as Mike to think of the right words. “You just… s-seemed to be uh- a little upset by yourself, I-I just thought… you know.”

They were… kind. And not the sinister type of kind that someone with bad intentions would be. It was like trying to make friends on the first day of school, in a way. They were both shy “… I don’t have any cash on me…”

“I have a- a few dollars, if you really want something?” They smiled, and Mike’s heart skipped a beat. Woah. That was… weird. All it took was smile for this person to go from a random dude to something almost like a magnet, drawing Mike in.

He probably shouldn’t say yes, but… “Well, i-if you’re okay with paying.”

An order placed. Vanilla with caramel for them. Extra dark chocolate for Mike. Payment, delivery, and now they both sat on that concrete divider. Just… sitting. Drinking. It was cold outside, too cold for angels to fly, too cold for milkshakes… but how could Mike turn down a milkshake? It was… oddly comforting.

“Y-You know, most people don’t… don’t like the cold, b-but its… nice, at this hour.” The stranger spoke again, trying to start a conversation.

Mike felt numb from the cold, but… it was far better than the breakdown he was having earlier. He decided to keep the conversation going. “It’s quiet… helps you think, right?”

“Yeah! You- You get it!” They smiled, seeming genuinely happy to connect with him. “Like- how the stars get clear and you can see them- a-a-and how it’s almost- like another world!”

“Mhm…” Mike took another sip of his shake before fiddling with the straw. “I’m… I’m Michael, by the way.”

They smiled, that same smile that made his heart skip a beat again. “Michael… I’m Anim- well, Scott… Well- I- uh-”

“You use two names, I guess?” Mike looked up at the other.

“We-Well, most call me Anim… it’s just- you know- my family calls me Scott, h-haha…”

… There was something weird about how he said that. Not a nickname thing, that was normal. But… there was something in the tone. The way he tried to laugh it off… it was like how Mike always tried to laugh off his trauma. … Of course, of course he’s hiding something hurting him. No mentally sane man would be in a Sonic parking lot at 2 in the morning, buying milkshakes for some stranger… was this Anim like Michael? … Maybe that’s something he can bring up later.

“… My brother’s name is Scott.” Mike decided to just keep the small talk going, not wanting to lose the friend he just made by prying too much. “He goes by “Red” though, not “Anim”, so that’s funny how you both have nicknames.”

“Oh, y-you have a brother? That’s neat!” Anim seemed to relax, probably grateful that Mike didn’t pry into the name business. “I um- don’t have a uh- any siblings, b-but! I have 3 kids, so there- there’s that!”

“Oh, you’re a dad? That’s awesome! I always wanted kids…” Mike trailed off, smiling at the fantasy of starting his own family one day…

“Well, if you want, um, i-if you don’t want to- to go home tonight, I can let you st-stay over at our house?” Anim asked gently, as if hesitant… probably wondering if it’s appropriate to ask something to someone who’s practically a stranger.

“… Pff, wow, you’re uh… awfully trusting of bringing a stranger to your family… how do you know I’m not some- some serial killer or something?”

He shrugged “You… don’t seem like that type, o-or something. I don’t know. I don’t just… want to leave you here when-” as he spoke, he moved a hand to gently pat Mike on the shoulder, but almost immediately pulled it away “O-Oh my gosh, you’re freezing-!” Before Mike could argue, Anim had already grabbed his free hand, holding it tightly as Mike saw the way his pupils visibly shrunk in shock “You- You’re like ice! How long were you out here-?!”

“I… don’t know…” Mike admitted shamefully, glancing off to the side. He stopped feeling cold forever ago, he just felt numb now. But, with the way his hand was held, he felt nothing but warmth…

“Oh no, o-oh no, I shouldn’t have kept y-you out here- c-c’mon, I need to get you somewhere warm, m-my house isn’t far from here, you can stay and warm up!”

Michael almost said no. How could accept such a kind offer from someone he didn’t know? How could he trust this stranger who may not have good intentions? How could he…

Yet, the warmth he felt when the other held his hand… this was a warmth he was determined to protect with his life.

“Okay, if it’s alright, then- aH-” He yelped when Anim grabbed him rather suddenly, literally sweeping him off his feet and carrying him, making sure his jacket was wrapped around them both before hurriedly carrying him back to his home. There was certainly an urgency in his step- was he worried Mike would freeze to death? How strange… to have so much trust in each other when they just met, it shouldn’t be how it works. He should feel cold- afraid- distant…

And yet, all he felt was warmth.

#my fics #smike #ptsd tw #dissociation tw #scottie <3 #mike: *has one breakdown in front of anim*#anim: *is kind and helps him through it*#mike: WELL HOW CAN I *NOT* MARRY HIM NOW

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the19thduckpotato · 5 years ago

Text

The Ties That Bind Part 7 (MHA Fanfic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

In which things get extra fluffy and Inko has her say.

"...Dad?"

Toshi's eyes widened at that and for a moment, he forgot to breathe. His heart nearly burst with feelings he couldn't describe. Feelings that ached, but what an ache. An ache that bespoke of a desperate need to be wanted. An ache on the verge of being fulfilled ...but he teetered on the edge. I don’t deserve it. But I want it. Please. Please I want it very much. Does he mean it? Am I ready for it if he does? He took Izuku's face in his large, dangerous, protective hands: "...is...is that what you want?" His eyes searched for any hint of denial, terrified of finding such but needing to be absolutely sure. Izuku's eyes were quickly filling with tears. His limbs felt weird, like his skin was buzzing-- kind of like when he'd had way too much coffee. Adrenaline? Am I scared? What am I scared of? That he didn't mean it after all. All he could manage was a whisper. "...Do you?" Do you want me? For real and for always? As... as your son? The word suddenly felt so big. A position he may never be able to properly fill. But I'll try. I'll give it all I've got! ...If you really, truly want me.... Is it possible? Part of him couldn't believe it. You know how much I've failed you. The other part looked at the events of the past two years, at the long days and the late nights and the help with big things and small, at the reassurances, at the complete forgiveness for seemingly any mistake he could make that left him in awe, at the hair ruffles and the Very Stupid Puns and the times Toshinori just held him while he cried At the events of the past night, at the indescribable fury only brought out when someone wants to harm what lies at the core of your heart At the irrefutable, unignorable fact that Toshinori was here, right now, cradling his face in his hands and looking at him with so much hope and fear and love And believed.

"Of course." Tears welled up and he let them. Then, apologetically: "it could be dangerous, you know."

He closed his eyes, letting two fat tears spill over, and leaned his head forward, connecting with Toshinori's forehead again. Shaking hands came up, carefully coming to rest on Toshinori's face, just like he was doing for Izuku. "...So is everything." The world isn't safe. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow, and then where would we be? "So is... Not." He shrugged slightly. He would still come for me. Would still come for you. He hates us, both personally and what we stand for. "And even if it were the only thing that was..." Izuku smiled, big and wide. Voice warm and absolutely certain. "Worth it."

And now he was laughing, joyful laughter that bubbled up from a heart that swelled to absolute fullness. And now he was crying, rivers running down, gratitude immeasurable and almost unbelieving that he should be gifted rather than punished for the deeds of the previous night. And now he was sobbing laughter and giggling tearfully as he pulled Izuku close, arms about him not too tight, don't scare him. Was it real or imagined, that shadow of a smile cradled by raven hair? Something broke open within and a new strength rose up. Same DNA. Same Quirk. Same goal. We're family in every sense of the word. He knew it was a double edged sword. He wasn't sure if he was making things better or worse for his boy--his son. He trembled as he held Izuku. Not out of fear but from the overwhelming power of emotion flooding through him. "And so long as this battered form draws breath, I'll protect you with everything I have and am." He drew back and brushed a tear from Izuku's cheek. "Maybe even beyond that. You've... you've seen me in One for All. If I can, if I'm able, I'll fight for you there as well."

Izuku nodded and tried to reply, his smile now drenched in tears, but all that came out was a weird noise. He tried again, but found the same result. Then gave up on it, burying his head against Toshinori's shoulder and nodding again. Gripping on tight for dear life.

Toshi rested his head atop Izuku's, tears quietly running down, smile true and honest. "I'm here. I'm here because you were here. And are here. And will always be here." I love ya, kid.

"Uh-huh--!" Izuku nodded again, still clinging and crying. "Love you too--!" The words were mixed in with high, gasping noises, different from the distressed cries of earlier. A vague thought in the back of his head warned him that he might be in danger of hyperventilating if he kept this up for long, but he brushed it off for the time being.

Toshi froze for a moment, his eyes comically large. He resisted the urge to hold Izuku out at arm's length. "Whoa, hang on a sec, sorry what??"

"Y--" gasp "--you said?? That??" He sniffled loudly, stopping hugging with one hand to scrub at his face. "A-aand I agree--" sniff "--with it... and so I sa-aid...." Another squeaking sob came out almost of its own accord. Izuku smacked his hand onto his chest in an effort to stop it from happening again, unfortunately aware that he'd now cried so much from various reasons that it was now going to be rather difficult to quit. "--And so I said it back...."

"Hey, easy now... breathe for me." Did I....?

"Y--y-eah, hang on--" Izuku hiccuped and coughed roughly, smacking his chest again in annoyance. "I'm working on that," he croaked. "Hang on--" He tried taking a gulp of air and holding his breath, cheeks puffed out like a frog.

"Uhm, speaking as a newly dad'ed dad," Toshi said...then blinked in fond amazement. I rather like the sound of that! "What should I be doing, exactly?" He watched Izuku with equal parts curiosity and mild concern.

Eh, Izuku thought, sitting back a bit and trying to communicate his thoughts with his eyebrows and hands while he held his breath. He did a 'so-so' wiggle of his hand for 'Eh'. Not much to do. I'm okay! He pointed to himself, then gave a thumbs up, crinkling his eyes for a smile while his mouth was still puffed up. He turned away a bit and let the lungful of air out, coughing. Then turned back and have a silly grin with the thumbs up, saying with a slightly rough voice, "I'm good!" As a newly... what should... do? What... oh no, what's gonna change?? He was suddenly intimidated by everything a father could tell him to do, like go to bed at a certain time 'and no playing games on your phone, young man!' or tell him to finish his thick stack of homework before doing anything fun or eat liver which basically tastes like smooshy brown chalk with extra bitter added in, and he'd have to do it all, and absolutely immediately and without arguing at all, precisely whenever he was told to do it because you had to obey parents, and not doing something when they told you to was disobedience, and disobedience was bad and wrong and and oh no, I can't even talk to him freely anymore, what if I say something rude by accident and it means I'm talking back, what does that mean? Is he gonna be mad at me? Have I lost the capability to say things and ask things that I would have if I hadn't asked him to call himself Dad? Is he going to try to punish me? What's he gonna do, I don't even know what his parents were like or what he thinks is a good punishment for a child, and now I've just let myself in for all kinds of crazy new rules and things I'm not allowed to do that he's just now going to be figuring out, and what if he goes kind of overboard at first, I wouldn't blame him with how new everything is but I'll still have to follow all of them and I don't even know if I CAN, he was a lot like a father before and that was good, why did I have to go and mess with a good thing, now everything's different and I don't even know it it's gonna turn out okay, what if the increased authority just makes him upset with how careless and reckless I still am when I should be being a Good Son and he's telling me to do better but I'm not, what's gonna happen now-- He realized he'd been staring in the vague direction of the mattress for a while. He looked up, clearing his throat and smiling apologetically. "As a... newly-dadded dad..." he motioned in the air. "What would change?" he asked lightly and casually. "I mean, I really liked what you were doing already, haha...." The sheepish smile widened, his eyebrows furrowing a bit. "What, ah..." he let his expression turn more serious. "What were you thinking about that?" Tilting his head, he looked up at Toshinori. Waiting to see what his new life would be like.

Toshi looked a little lost. "O-oh," he stammered. "I meant... for... you looked like you were having trouble there and I wanted to help and..." He trailed off and looked awkwardly to one side, revealing that his ears (usually lost in the explosion of his hair) were turning an interesting shade of red. "I don't..." his eyes flicked anywhere but Izuku, hoping to find the answer the kid wanted to hear. Realizing he was stalling too long and in essence answering Izuku by that, he turned back to his kid; the embarrassed flush started to streak across his face. "If that's good enough, if that seems right, then I'll trust your judgment. I don't really have much experience with--" Opposite of Master had been her closest friend, Gran Torino. A gruff man, stubborn, difficult to please. If she was the mother he had always wanted, he was the father that Toshi never wanted to be like. He was sure Gran Torino had a good heart buried in there somewhere but Toshi was too scared of the man to really find out. And maybe he had calmed down since; Izuku had seemed to like him ok. But Toshi still didn't care for Gran Torino's methods. He wasnt sure if fathers were supposed to be like that; all he knew is that he didn't want to be like that. Granted, his training under the Jet Hero had only began after Nana died so perhaps he had been altered by her death and-- Like son, like dad. Toshi blinked -- "I think I just pulled an Izuku" --then gazed at the kid. In that gaze, a very young, pre-All Might Toshi looked out: a little shy, a little scared, and a lot of I have absolutely no idea what I'm supposed to be doing but I am going to try. "--i don’t really have much experience with parents. Myself," he added the last word in a low whisper. The flush blazed across his whole face now.

Izuku gazed back, the vulnerability and openness in Toshinori's eyes making his breath catch in his throat. Then blinked, looking down, embarrassment at having asked the wrong question at the wrong time making his cheeks flush pink. "I... I don--" Why are you trusting MY judgement on what a dad's like? "I mean I only have the one, so." He shrugged, then suddenly looked back up. "And she's good! So good, I-- I'm not-- I'm not dissing her or anything, I just...." His voice got quieter and quieter as he kept talking, fiddling with his fingers and looking farther and farther down. "I don't. Know. What a dad's like either." Not for years. Why were his hands shaking? He stared at them. "But this--" He looked up, voice still soft. "This is good." He nodded, carefully reaching his arms out and pulling himself closer, resting his face against Toshinori again. "This is good," he whispered.

He tousled his son's hair again. "To tell ya the truth," he murmured. "I haven't the faintest idea what a dad is supposed to be like, either." Everything I learned, I learned from her. So...does that make me a mom instead? He chuckled softly at the thought. "You seem to be turning out well, from where I'm standing. And I have no idea if that means I'm already doing good as a father figure or being the worst example possible." He thought again to Gran Torino, the only example of a father he knew of. Winced. Not like him. No matter how well meaning it was. "So why change what we know is already working?" He grinned down at the kid, brimming with pride and love. Mine. I'm so glad I chose you to pass my legacy on to.

Izuku nodded and grinned. "Sounds good." He stayed where he was, clinging to his mentor... father. My dad. ...Woah. His hands were still shaking. "...I'm scared," he whispered, incredulous laughter bubbling up. "Wh... hahha-- why?? I... it just...." He shifted a bit, but still kept himself pressed against his father, gaining and giving support. "...Wow. That's big. That's a big thing." More breathless laughter, the air being knocked out of his lungs with every moment he thought about it.

Toshi rumbled pleasant laughter, more felt than heard as it shook his slender frame. "It's a pretty big step. But nothing you cant handle. Hey," he added with a comical pout, "are you saying you're more nervous about this than when I first offered you One for All?"

"Hah!" Izuku lifted his head and grinned up at Toshinori, smile so bright it was crinkling his eyes. "Yeah, we can do it! And, ah, well..." For an instant, his face fell slightly as he remembered what it was like to accept One for All. Learning about it and thinking 'this is my purpose, like a destiny from a storybook.' How he knew that those often ended with heroic sacrifice, and accepted that immediately with 'if I die, I die.' ...But that doesn't always happen, he thought hopefully. Sometimes people live, and things are happy at the end. "Well, I didn't have to think too hard about that one." He crinkled his nose. "It was... something I could give my effort to do, and... either I could do it, or I couldn't." He shrugged, somehow ending up staring at the mattress again. "Living as a person is different from living as a mission. Harder." Did that just come out of my mouth? His eyes widened slightly. I did Not plan to say that.

Toshi drew one hand away to scratch at his throat reflectively. "Living has proven. Interesting." More rumbled laughter. "Unpredictable. Exciting. But it's easier when you know you've got someone waiting for you." His gaze adopted a faraway look, hand paused in midscratch.

Izuku leaned his head against Toshinori again, smiling softly. "Mm. Yeah."

Toshi draped an arm about his kid, knowing Inko would be arriving soon to take her son. But this moment was his. Was theirs. He held on to it like he held on to his kid.

Izuku breathed deeply and shuddered from pure emotion, too much to hold. ...Wow....

The door burst open and Toshi jumped guiltily. He regretfully broke his grasp on Izuku and scooted away as a tearful Inko ran in, her arms wide open. "Oh my baby!" she wailed, fear and relief mixed in her trembling voice. She took Izuku's face in her hands, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, all over his face, just to make sure he was really there and actually ok.

Izuku jumped and spluttered as Inko burst in and started raining kisses on him, eventually laughing and relaxing a little bit. "Hi Mom...." He grinned widely, but still squirmed and flailed anyway. "Heyyyy! Ticklessssss!!"

"Let me look at you!" She stepped back and fussed over the bandages--"your ankles! Sit back down, get off them!"--then inspected him for bruises--"why, there's barely any here, they said you were all sorts of colors!"--and finally brushed his messy mop of hair. Beside them, Toshi tried not to shift or draw any attention to himself. If Inko noticed, she gave no sign. "Oh Izuku, let's get you home and into some normal clothes! Your bed is freshly made and I'm ready to cook whatever you're hungry for, ok?" She tried a watery smile then dissolved into a storm of tears. "Oh b-b-baaaabyyy!!" she sobbed. "I was so scared for you!"

Izuku smiled softly, closing his eyes and saying quietly, "I'm okay, Mom." He put a hand on either side of her face, trying to comfort her. I will not cry, I will Not cry again!

Toshi for his part felt extremely awkward and, wanting to give them some privacy, tried to veeeeery quietly s c o o t. His way. From. The room. "Stop right there, mister." Oshi-- She hadn't even turned around. Her hands were still soft and nurturing but her eyes glittered dangerously. Toshi froze in mid-stride, eyes wide, not even daring to look at Izuku now. A very tiny "meep" might have leaked out.

"Mom." Izuku's voice was soft, and a bit sad. He moved a hand from the side of her head, placing his fingertips on her cheek instead. Look at me. "No."

"Izuku," she replied in a stern tone. "We had an agreement. An understanding." Her chin quivered at his touch and more tears ran down to meet his fingers. "He was supposed to keep you safe, remember?" One finger jabbed in Toshi's direction and he started to hunch down between his shoulders. "You were so supposed to be careful!" Inko continued, anger giving way to fear for her child. "You promised!" She gripped his hospital gown at the shoulders as her head sank against his chest. "Baby, you promised me..." Toshi stared at his feet, twisting one bang between his long fingers. He couldn't meet Izuku's eyes.

"I know," Izuku whispered. "And I'm sorry." I truly am. "But it's not his fault." His hands brushed over her smooth hair. "He protected me. He saved me. He didn't even know I was fighting at first, that was all me. I didn't even..." He growled at his own lack of foresight. "I didn't even call for backup when I should have." He bowed his head, remembering the desperate call sent out almost too late, addressed to any hero who could hear him. Temporarily forgetting that I had a comm link in my mask set didn't help... oops. "But when I did, he came for me. He helped me." Izuku wrapped his arms around his mother and hugged. "Please don't be mad at him...."

((to be concluded))

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #the ties that bind #tttb part 7 #izuku #midoriya #deku #inko #toshinori #yagi #all might #dadmight #sunflower dad #fanfic

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