#i have one of those windows with a pretty deep window sill and a perfect view of the street

[orbitfalls]

i'm sitting on my balcony, tugged into a blanket because its fucking cold up here but im seeing the sun for the first time since december and all is good<3 i bought iced coffee from the shop down at the corner of the street. below me the street is busy - no cars, but plenty of bikes, and people on the sidewalks!! they're walking in all different speeds, some are rushing, some are not, someone is walking with a stroller and someone is selling papers to passerbys down the corner. i can hear distant chatter, words i cant really tell apart, im sitting on the floor of the balcony because i like to have my back against the wall and my feet on the railing (it's a pretty slim balcony, one of those parisian ones with swirling metal railings). the sun hasnt reached my spot yet, but it will in a few hours. i can hear the bells of the clock tower at the townsquare ringing because the time just turned half past twelve. my coffee has caramel syrup. my hands are cold. my computer is in my lap, there are two doves on the roof of the building across from me and someone just walked across the street without looking both ways.

All is well<3

[princess-ibri]

Art (click for better quality) and "Prologue" for a hypothetical book on Grimhilde's backstory. Basically, if Disney had hired me to write the Villains series, here's how I would have tackled the story that started it all:

Prologue

She was seven years old when first she saw the Mirror. 

She was meant to be in the nursery, playing with her dolls or practicing her sewing, perhaps throwing crumbs to the doves that clustered on the window-sills like piles of fluffy shifting snow in the summertime. 

But she had not wanted to do any of those things.She wanted to go down to the stables, and peer in at the beautiful creature that now lived there. A fine young colt, jet black but for a white star set perfectly in the center of it's brow. It had been a gift  from some visiting noble seeking to court favor with the young future heir.

A gift meant for her brother. 

She had not received any such a fine gift. She had received a doll. Pretty and poised in its pink and white perfection, and taken from a pile of gifts meant for his own daughter. A trifle to appease a princess the nobleman had forgotten even existed. 

 And though she was only a child still, and could not yet ride and did not even know she had wanted to ride, until she had seen this beautiful creature, the slight had stung, and burrowed deep.

It was her first experience with envy. And with hate.

She loved her brother of course. He was her twin, her confidant and her only friend. Dolls and puppies and even ponies did not count. Certainly not the silly nursery maids who went around cooing as if they were an oversized flock of doves themselves. She could not talk to any of them and expect them to talk sense back. But though she loved him, she also now envied him. Deeply. 

And she hated the nobleman for putting the envy in her heart. For not seeing her as just as worthy of such a prize. For not thinking of her at all beyond that she was a girl and a princess and so a doll was perfectly acceptable to give. She hated him with all the pure burning heat of a first hate. Passionate and Consuming.  

 And it was this burning, white hot hate that made her slip from the nursery, down the long corridors and up the winding stair, to ask Nanny for a curse. 

"A curse duckie? What sort of curse now? And for whom? How strong a curse? How long a curse? Ye must think these things through my dearie."  

She told Nanny, her small fists shaking as she spoke, of the preening nobleman, courting her brother's favor. Of the black horse with the star on its brow. Of her jealousy. Of her hate. How she would caste such a curse on him that it would hound him till the ends of the earth, if she only knew how.

Nanny's high rattling cackle echoed around the tower room, sending the spiders in the eaves above scurrying frantically about. 

"Oh duckie, ye have the spark to cast one, that ye do. I can see it burning' in your dear little eyes. Your mother hasn't that, though she has the cold heart for it. She's always had to rely on dear old Nanny Hex, and the Mirror of course. Well you come along with old Nanny then, come along now, and let's see what mischief we two can do."

Nanny Hex was not her nanny, not the one who watched over her and her brother in the nursery, a tall stern woman who made sure they ate their meals without staining and played only with appropriate decorum, as befitted a prince and princess.

Nor did she wear a large white cap and spectacles like her nursery nanny did. Nanny Hex's hat was tall and black, with a large shiny buckle, silver like the moon. Her eyes were large and slightly crooked, so any spectacles that tried to sit upon her already slanted nose would have had their work cut out for them. She was small and hunched, with one limping foot, which she alleviated by use of a walking stick nearly as gnarled as the hands that held it.

She did not know how old Nanny was. Old enough that she had been her mother's nanny in truth, raising the young princess from infancy to womanhood. But she had been old then as well, if the whispers of the court were to be believed. 

Those who were less foolish in their gossip spoke of the magnanimity of Queen Richilde, to take such care of her old nurse in her dotage as to allow her chambers within the palace itself. 

The less prudent would scoff over the Queen's favor towards 'such a wizened and ghastly old crone'.

Such as these never lasted long at court, and misfortune seemed to follow them into their exiles as well. Nanny, for all her years, still had a sharp ear, and a long reach.

It was Nanny who had taught her mother how to use the Mirror. Gazing into its depths to outwit the suitors who came to try and win Richilde's hand when her father, wearying of her reluctance to wed, had offered it in contest.

Ninety and nine men had tried and failed to win her, each one discovered and undone with the aid of the Mirror's all knowing gaze. 

The last, the man who had fathered her and her brother, had succeeded only through magical aid of his own. He had tried his hand at the contest only to avenge the two brothers who had failed before him. But one look at Richilde's face, and he had fallen in love as one falls to a fever, or madness. And he had adored her until the day he died; the day after she and her brother had been born.

A hunting accident, they said. Her grandfather passed soon after, a fever. Her mother had ruled alone ever since. 

She had heard the story many times, from nurses, but they had spoken only of her father's side of the tale. Of his cleverness, of the fox and bird and fish that had aided him in winning her mother's hand. They knew nothing of the Mirror.

Of that, she had learned from Nanny, in whispers and promises. Promises she had made to her mother long ago. Promises that now, it seemed, would be fulfilled.

The Mirror stood in the highest part of Nanny's tower, in the center of a wide room encircled by wide windows, looking out over the city and the forests beyond. 

It was a large, bejeweled thing. Taller than her, taller than Nanny, a golden oval formed from the bodies of two filigreed snakes, mouths open in agony. Upon the apex of the oval was the gleaming design of a crown, backed by the fan of a peacock's tail, inlaid with pearls and lapis lazuli. The royal insignia of her house, standing proudly above the serpents which symbolized the land her ancestors had conquered. 

But the Mirror itself was dark, an empty expanse like a great pit. No light reflected from it; indeed it seemed to draw the light from the windows into itself, rendering the room the appearance of shadow even now, in the heat of the day  She could see no reflection of herself in it at first; it wavered into being, as if coming from far away, from the depths of the world. 

"You stand before it now, duckie, and tell it who you are and what you want. Call and ask it in this wise now"

And Nanny told her what to say, and do.

She stood before the Mirror, looking at her reflection, small yet clear. She had her mother's dark hair and pale complexion, made even paler in this noon-day twilight. Her eyes, green as emeralds, were her father's people said. Those eyes now flashed with an inner light, an expectation of what was about to come, as she lifted her arms high above her head, and spoke.

"Slave in the magic mirror, come from the farthest space, through wind and darkness I summon thee. Speak! Let me see thy face."

There came first wind, whipping her hair about her head so that it looked like a writhing of black snakes. Though not a tree outside the tower was seen to move.

Then there came the crack of thunder, and the flash of lightning, illuminating the dark room and casting shadows black as pitch upon the walls. Though the sky outside the tower remained clear and blue.

At last, there came fire. Fire from within the void of the mirror itself, a crackling blaze that licked about the edges of the glass, as if seeking escape into the room beyond.

And then--there was a face. 

Grotesque, pale green like a corpse pulled from a long repose within dark water. It was wreathed in smoke, empty eyes and mouth that gapped with the void surrounding it. When it spoke, the voice echoed as if coming up from some deep and empty chasm.

"Who is it who summons me?" 

She stood as one frozen, fear and wondering warring within her as she gazed upon the face. The fire of hatred that had brought her here began to quench before the reality of this moment, this thing before her, this creature that was nothing of the mortal realm she walked and played in, but a thing infernal, with the power to shatter her to bits if it wished, and kept from doing so only by a thin plane of glass.  

She no longer wished to gain her petty vengeance. She wanted to flee. Back down the winding stair, back down the corridors, back to her nursery and the sunlight and even the incipit pink and white doll. Away away away from this being she could feel in her very bones was anathema to all that was humanity.  

But she could not move. Fear held her fast. And Nanny's hand on her shoulder held her faster still.

"Now then dearie, speak your name" Nanny said, in a tone that brooked no argument. "Speak your name, and ask how to gain your prize. Ye cannot but ask now."

She wet her lips, willing her voice to firmness, to the power of command she had oft heard within her mother's voice. She imagined herself as her mother, standing proud and erect. A queen no one could ever ignore, a queen worth the lives of one hundred men. 

"I am" she said, "The Princess Grimhilde von Brangomar, daughter of Richilde von Brangomar, Conquer Queen of Shi-Tan."

"What wouldst thou know, o daughter of my queen? Ask, and I shall tell it thee"

She stood straight, summoning up the hatred that had brought her here, to this place, this moment. She had the sense that after this question, nothing in her life would again be the same. 

"Mirror, Mirror, on the wall--how may I make my enemy fall?" 

[i-am-dead-inside-help-plz]

There are ancient gods beyond names. Being above time and reality, that even thinking of them will drive any reasonable person insane.

But those creatures are not beyond logic. You can barter with them, trade earthly and unearthly possessions for commodities from behind the veil. Ancient nursery rhymes tell tales of virgin blood and clay images. Secret dancing and secret verses to please the ones so much above humanity.

But even to those infinite beings, time moves on. The best things humans can offer is no longer sacred mud and twisted roots. And from mother to daughter, secrets of rituals have been passed down, ever evolving and changing. Because as the new children of darkness have discovered, the aluminium is better then the silver, and the singer can topple kings.

So here we are, eons after the first words were whispered in the first darkness. A newborn witch, ready for her first summon sets the ingredients in front of the caldron. She lifts with a shaking hand one green plastic leave, ripped from the weird hole in the common garden. "Grass from a ditch" she calls.

The caldron is beyond time, and the robes are old as well, but even if her dead ancestor, long gone and buried in the old country could understand the odd grass blade, the symbol for nature and everlasting fertility, now truly everlasting, the next part would confuse even the witch's mother. Because instead of the pair of dice that was supposed to go next into the hot soup, came a brand new Nintendo switch. The witch mumbled on. She hoped that in the 21st century blood will no longer be needed, but no creature of the dark responded to the vegan alternative. So deep into the steaming caldron a drop of a streamer's blood droped. All it took was a small donation and a vile was sent from the streamer's house directly to the witch's tower. No delivery fees. The root needed no replacement. Foxglove grew on her window sill, as on her mother's and her grandmother's. No one other then them knew the purpose of the plant, but at least the flowers were pretty.

Next came the funko. It was a great invention, suited exactly for this unholy ceremony. Gone are the days of clay figurines and velvet puppets. Filled with sticks and small berries from the woods. The fallen angels liked plastic just as well, and maybe even better. A clear shape, a clear purpose. No more almost human dolls sacrificed on the red alter.

And lastly. No need for a mythical beast, of running in the woods with a big gun in your hand. All it took was an open friend and a small pluck, and the nylon strand of hair replaced the hair of the blue wild wolf, found only in forests long forgotten.

The witch stood up. The singing grew stronger as the potion turned blue. The sharpie pentagram glew with white light. And out of the black steel caldron emerged a demon. Not the shadow her grandmother saw nor the vague figure that appeared to her mother. The all plastic all wrapping of the modern age could summon demons with perfect clarity. The witch smiled. Oh wonders of technology, she drew the binding runes on the demon's chest using a marker, and when she was ready she helped it out of the caldron. Finally it was time for her plan

"So there's this girl I know..."

“Grass from ditch, Nintendo Switch, blood from streamer liked on Twitch. Foxglove root, Funko of Groot, hair plucked from a blue fursuit…” The modern witches stir the cauldron

[hpalways]

Hiii! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do a Genshin highschool au (modern au??? Idk what to call it-) and how Childe, Venti, Albedo and diluc would confess to their crush. Idk I just think it's a cute idea :)

Anyways feel free to ignore! Thanks and have a nice day! Don't forget to eat and drink water! <3

Note: sorry for how late this is but ofc!! thanks for the request and take care as well!

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Childe, Venti, Albedo, Diluc

Childe

Lost in your own world, you do not notice the red ginger waltzing his way up to the front of the class. Only when you hear audible gasps from the other students do you glance up, surprise coloring your face. 

His azure blue eyes are glued to you, mischief lining the corners of his mouth. Today his red locks are slightly gelled nicely, keeping out of his face and accentuating his features all the more. He dons his school uniform well, looking tall and confident up there, despite having everyone’s attention on him. But of course, that is just who he is as a person -- popular with the student population for being the class clown and a great track athlete with those long legs of his. 

Which is why you nearly fall out of your chair at his declaration. “[Y/N],” he called out. Pairs of eyes follow to you, making you still as a statue. “I... I really like you. You are funny and strong and brave and better of a person than I ever will be. Will you go out with me?”

The class ‘awwed’, lapping the entire scene in with excitement. You want to facepalm, thinking how stupid he is for confessing in front of everyone. What if you reject him? Goodness. He truly is such an idiot. “No,” you say. You watch his face pale for a moment and the students growing silent. Unable to hold in the laugh spilling from your lips, you prevent the awkwardness from seeping in. “I’m kidding. I like you too, Childe.”

Everyone burst into applause, as Childe hurries to you, wrapping his arms around you. Unlike before, his confidence has faded away, left with a vulnerable boy who is so relieved to not get rejected by the one he loves. 

Venti

Sunlight filter through the windows of the music room, casting a sheen past the wispy dust dancing in the air. A young boy with braided ombre locks peacefully sits on the window sill, his legs kicking forth in steady rhythm. Humming under his breath, his teal eyes dart to the door that opened up, instantly brightening up in excitement. 

You peek into the room to find the musical genius, Venti. His childlike charisma is found in the corner, his figure soft and beautiful. After having music class with him, you grew quite close to him -- he never fails to make you smile. He is different from others, a free spirit unable to tied down to anything. Never afraid to seek the thing he wants, he has pushed you to do the same. 

“You’re here,” he breathed out, soaring down from the high ledge. “Can I play you a song I’ve been working on?”

Beaming, you sit down on a chair and nod. Touched that he chooses you to hear something so vulnerable first, you are more than willing to do anything for him. He is a cherished friend -- one you never hope to let go. “Please do.”

He starts to strum the golden harp he’s holding onto, the melodic sound of it wavering into the room. He starts to sing words of no meaning, clear and pretty to match with the instrument. It mesmerize you from the bat, your eyes gluing the stunning male in front of you. His eyes are closed, but his actions were soulful, as if every note wants to say something to you. 

When he finishes, he stops you before you could clap. “Wait,” he whispers, coming closer to you, his eyes rimmed with tears. “I want to tell you a little secret. I like you, [Y/N]. A lot.”

You drop your jaw, blinking in shock at this newfound confession. For a minute, all is silent, the remnant of the song still stuck playing in your head like a broken record. Your cheeks warm and your heart race, and you realize you already know your answer to his confession. “I like you too, Venti.”

Albedo

In the quiet of the library where you can hear a pin drop, you listen to the soft ‘sha’ of the rain pouring outside of the school. It is the perfect day to study with the renown Einstein of the school, Albedo. You lift your gaze up to see him sitting across from you, crystal blue eyes peering down through his lenses. 

He has been very helpful lately, always offering to walk you through problems you are stuck on. It makes your insides flutter, taken off guard by his generosity. Stupid you are, you used to assume him to be a prick, just because he is smart. But now you know better... and the more you get to learn about him, the more you want to see him, not just for tutor sessions. 

He looks up from his textbook and you flinch back, ashamed for getting caught staring. How embarrassing. Quickly looking back down, you pretend to study, frantically scanning the unreadable letters painting on the page. You stiffen when you hear his voice. “Do you need help on anything?” he asks you. Even making his way around the table, you grow flustered when he bends down, platinum blond hair falling from his sides. 

Not only is he smart, but he is beautiful. 

He turns to look at you, inquiry coloring his features. 

“Oh!” you force out, chuckling a little. “No... I’m okay for now-- thank you though.”

He nods, yet does not leave your side, with brows furrowing in deep thought. “Well, I need help on something. Do you mind?”

Albedo? Needing help? How strange. Did the world just flip upside down. You nod in response anyway, unsure whether or not you can actually help him. 

“I can’t figure this out, but why do I feel so nervous around you?”

You pause, heart pounding so loudly against your chest you can hear nothing else. Did this mean...? He couldn’t possibly? But maybe you are too desperate not to voice out the suggestion. “Do you... like me?” you croak out. “Like... like like me?”

He does not respond for a moment, pondering long and hard about it. Eventually, he sits down on the chair next to you, nodding slightly. “I think I do. I like you [Y/N].”

Diluc

He is your bestfriend, your pillar, the one that has kept you true to yourself this entire school experience. No matter what, he is there for you, the one reliable person that hasn’t failed you once. And because he is that, you have grown to love him -- more than just a friend. 

Your arm is hooked around the redhead’s broad shoulder, his soft locks tickling you. In that usual ponytail of his, you always admired his looks, for he could pull off long hair unlike most people. Scarlet hues are trained on you, listening intently to the story you are telling him. 

Reaching your locker, you release your hold on him and begin to spin the locker combination. It clicks and unlocks and as you try to find a notebook, something else caught your eye. There, laying in the middle, is a delicately wrapped letter, accompanied by a lone rose. When did this get here? Blinking at it in confusion, you hesitantly take it, pulling at the silk that binded the thick paper together. 

Dear [Y/N],

you are my best friend, but to tell you the truth, I’ve always longed more from you. Because I have feelings for you, and you only. No matter how many years has gone and come, it has never changed. 

-Diluc

You turn to look at your best friend, disbelief coloring your expression. His head is downturn, his ears growing red in embarrassment. Holding tightly to the rose, you stand on your tippy toe to place a kiss on his cheek. “I have feelings for you too,” you breath out. 

“You do?” he echoes, his face lighting up like a puppy, yet too awkward to make a move. 

“I do.”

[thisisawonderfulusername]

you’re back

five hargreeves x reader

requested: @generouswombyrat

prompts: 19- “oh, and s/he’s totally in love with you.”

again i changed the prompt up a bit, but i think it’s close enough

summary: when five returns from the future, old feelings resurface

warnings: fluff fluff fluff, a dash of angst. for once there isn’t any cursing (i’m pretty sure) lmao

word count: 1.5k

a/n: a few changes to the universe ig: five returns around the same age as the siblings, and not in his thirteen y/o body. reader is not one of the adopted ones, and not one of the forty-three. i was actually working on this all week while sitting in my classes lol. i really hope it meets expectations, i really like it myself. alrighty, enjoy!

the musical voice of tiffany darwish can be heard throughout the house, muffled through the walls of five’s childhood bedroom. you stand at the window, looking out at the fire escape you used to climb up, just to hang out with him.

with a sigh, you turn around to look at the rest of the room. it’s spotless. you assume it has been for a while now. grace definitely kept up with the whole house, even with all of the kids gone. there was no layer of dust, all of the old uniforms in the closet are still ironed. it brings you back to those days, and it’s hard to believe that it’s been sixteen years since he disappeared.

you can remember that day like yesterday, yet you were only thirteen then.

-

you looked up at the fire escape, taking a short breath. you have done this for years, and you had perfected the technique of getting your coffee and donuts past the ladder to the first platform.

the bag of donuts is held in your teeth, freeing one of your hands. the other holds the tray of the coffees, and you carefully put a foot on the first rung of the ladder, before grabbing on to the side it and pulling yourself.

it used to be a slow process, but you have mastered it by now. slide your hand up, and step up a few more rungs. when you got close enough, you placed the tray and donuts on the platform and climbed the rest of the way. luckily, the rest of the way up was stairs.

when you got to the window and knocked on the glass a few times, you expected five to open it like always, but instead it was vanya who appeared.

your eyebrows furrowed as she pushed the window open, and you hesitantly climbed in. sitting on the sill and silently dropping to the floor, to avoid the risk of his father finding out that you were here. “vanya? where’s five?”

she seemed nervous, which you thought was weird. you slowly placed the food on his desk as she played with her fingers.

“he’s- he’s gone, y/n.”

you think you’ve heard her wrong. you had to. there was just no way.

“what?” you question in disbelief, hating the small crack in your voice. “what do you mean, ‘gone’? what do you mean?” you sound more desperate the more you speak.

“he ran out.” she explains, avoiding eye contact. “during dinner. he was arguing with dad about time travel and he just- he just left.”

you fall onto the edge of his bed, feeling the tears beginning to swell in your eyes. “no.” you whisper to yourself, “no!”

before you know it, you’re sobbing, and vanya is at your side to comfort you.

-

you bite your lip as the memory rises to the surface. sitting on the bed, you focus on the lyrics playing.

i think we’re alone now

the beating of our hearts is the only sound

the music stops as there’s a loud rumble is heard outside. the whole house feels like it’s shaking and outside, there is flashing blue light that floods into the room through the window.

you run down the stairs, and into the large courtyard. there, in the sky, is a glowing blue portal type thing.

“what is it?” you hear vanya ask.

“don’t get too close!” allison’s voice, and then,

“yeah, no shit.”

luther pushes past everyone, looking up at the thing. “looks like some sort of temporal anomaly. either that or a miniature black hole. one of the two.”

“pretty big difference there, paul bunyan.” diego tells him.

“out of the way!” klaus comes running out of the house, and you quickly step to the side as he rushes forward with a fire extinguisher, spraying at the anomaly before giving up and just throwing it in. it disappears.

“what is that gonna do?” you shout over the loud rumbling.

“i don’t know,” klaus shrugs, a whine in his tone, “do you have a better idea?”

electricity starts to crackle around the portal, and klaus is falling back behind everyone again.

“everybody get behind me.” luther commands, and you don’t mind listening to him for once, but of course diego has to step in front too.

“i vote for running, come on!” klaus yells.

you watch as you can see a person pushing through before falling onto the ground from the portal.

as if it didn’t happen, the thunder and electricity in the air disappear, and all of you step forward towards the man. your eyebrows furrow as you think you recognize him while he is standing up.

“does anyone else see...” klaus points towards him, “he looks like a grown up five.”

your eyes widen as you realize that he’s right. “oh my god.” you rush forward, grabbing him and crushing him in a hug. “oh my god, you’re back!”

“they’re totally in love with each other.” you can hear klaus say it, and your face suddenly feels hot, but you choose to ignore it.

-

you’re back in his room, and the memory of him disappearing that day is replaced by all of the good times you had together. thinking about what klaus said, you think that he just might be right. you felt it when you were younger- of course you didn’t realize what it was at the time. you felt like a kid again. heart racing at the sight of him... all grown up.

yet he still looked like your five.

“i missed you.” your voice is surprisingly quiet as you lay on your back next to him, staring up at the ceiling as you play with your fingers that rest on your stomach.

“i missed you too.” his voice is quiet as well, and you turn your head ever so slightly to catch a small glimpse at him.

biting your lip for a moment, you think about what to say. “where were you?” you decide to ask, and you can tell that the question makes him tense for a moment.

he takes a glance at you, before taking a deep breath. “i got stuck in the future.” he tells you, and your eyebrows furrow slightly.

“stuck?” you repeat.

“yeah.” he gives a small nod with the confirmation, “i overestimated myself, and the consequences were like some sort of sick punishment. i should have just listened to that old man.”

there’s quiet for a moment as you wonder what he meant by a punishment. turning on your side, you look at him. “what do you mean? was it not just… normal?”

his head turns and his eyes meet yours, and you can see some sort of pain in them. “it was an apocalypse.”

you’re stunned into silence, and your lips just hang apart as you try to process his confession. “i don’t know how it happened, but there was fire and everything was just crumbled to the ground and-” he gulps slightly, and your eyes soften, “i saw all of them. dead.”

“oh my god, five.” you know who he meant, and you can only imagine what he felt in that moment. your hand meets his and you hold it softly. “i’m so sorry.”

“it wasn’t your fault.” you can feel his grip around your hand tighten slightly. “i just wish i wasn’t stupid enough to actually try that.”

“well...” you pause for a moment, not exactly sure what to say. “you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.” of course it’s not all that matters. he must have gathered so much trauma over the sixteen years he was stuck in a literal wasteland… you couldn’t imagine having to go through that.

he’s quiet for a second, before he turns on his side as well and your eyes meet. it was like staring into the past. “it is.” his agreement is surprising, but it makes you smile softly.

a long silence falls, and it feels like you’re just staring into his eyes for what could be hours, but in reality it was only really a few minutes or even less.

you take a shaky breath. “can i kiss you?” the question slips from your mouth unexpectedly, and you nearly slap yourself in the face. “god, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-”

you aren’t able to finish your apology for the words you blurted out because he had leaned forward and caught your lips in his.

it seemed like something you were waiting for for years. maybe you were. it felt right.

it doesn’t last long enough for you, but you feel like the oxygen has been sucked from your body as you open your eyes to look at him. a small smile spreads across your face.

“i’m glad you’re back.”

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever  

tua: @rasberrymay @noodlextrash @atomicpillar @malfovs  @andreasworlsboring101​  

five taglist: @anapocalypseinmymind @five-hargreeves-official @insatiable-ivy @coffee-e-addict @xplrreylo @fandomfreakff @colie-babi @flowertoty @avovada @badwolf00593

[themonotonysyndrome]

REDACTED verse - The aloof Bombay & wounded Border Collie

Summary: They say you are what you are in the dark. So you prove just who you are when there's only you and Frederick in a dark house, with no one else around. 

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Angst with a happy ending] & [Mild panic attack]

So, first thing first, a little backstory about this oneshot. I had already written out the first scene a week before Redacted announced the discontinuation of Frederick & Bright Eyes series. Although he mentioned that it’s fine to continue on writing headcanons about the two, I was hesitant to continue writing this fic. 

But I’ve been missing them terribly so I sat my ass down and finally completed it! Yay! Fred & Bright Eyes had one of the most interesting dynamics in this fandom so I wanted to give it a go based on my headcanons of them. 

-

There's a strange sort of energy hovering around Vincent and Sam lately. 

It's not subtle either. Its anxiety, stress and uncertainty all roll together into a heavily dense fog that makes you itches under the skin. 

This has been going on for days now. 

Vincent constantly has thick textbooks with him whenever he comes over to Sam's place. They would exchange short pleasantries before Sam hurried off to his Werewolf beau (it's sort of funny the first time Sam returns home, and you spotted courses of wolf's hair stuck onto the hem of his clothes and jeans. You figured that this man's main hobby was tussling with Wolves, but when Sam would sneak back into his own fucking house like a teenager, it wasn't hard to put two-and-two together). Vincent would then make sure that you and Frederick are fed, settled in for the night before he completely ignores the two of you in favour of his school work. 

As if the two of you are a pair to toddlers. You'd laugh if it didn't annoy you. 

Fred, ever the gentle sweetheart, attempted to make small talks at first. Tentatively asking if he's stressed out over exams and if there's anything he could do to help - the result was expected. With pen in hand, notebooks and the two hundred and one pages depicting the foundations of magical healing, Vincent rather absentmindedly shooed him away. 

Sam is arguably the worst. Ever since he stepped outside of the house during their crash course of the Empowered creatures in Dahlia to answer a phone call, he returns with lines on his forehead and shoulders tensed as hell. 

Their impromptu lesson ended just like that when another Clan member had to babysit the two of you after Sam stormed out of the house. 

You don't know whether they realise how taunt their strings have been, and you don't really care, honestly. Just curious; you're pretty confident that something big will happen soon. 

At least there's something exciting to look forward to other than Sam's disapproving frowns and Fred's frustrated attempts at making you bear your heart and guts out. 

And something big will happen soon. Apparently, there's something equivalent to a magical Olympics that occurs every year called the Elemental & Energetic Games, and this year, the local supernatural academy would be the one hosting it in Dahlia. Interesting. 

Speaking of which, you could hear Vincent talking to his lover outside your bedroom through his phone. "Sam's on the way... yeah, he just texted me." A short pause. "Yeah, I can do that. Hey, hey, Lovely - listen to me. Everything's going to be alright. You've been practising non-stop for the Games. You deserve a special night for a change. So here's what we're going to do: I'll pick up some of that blueberry pie you love so much on the way back, we'll watch some movies after dinner and then have an early night so you'll feel better tomorrow. Sounds good? Nice. Oh wait - I think I can hear Sam outside. See you in a little bit. Love you too, Lovely." 

You tune the outside world after that. It makes sense now why Vincent was stressed out; he's busy playing the good boyfriend. 

With a tired sigh, you try your best to occupy your mind. It's three hours to midnight, but to Vampires, that's practically early morning, and you're already so bored. You don't want to step out of your little sanctuary if it means having to deal with Sam, Vincent and Fred tonight. 

Or ever. Forever sounds good. 

Not knowing what else to do, you pushed yourself out of bed and padded towards the window sill. The cool night air greets you as well as the trees and shadows that stretch on for miles. Once you and Fred were officially brought under Sam's care as his Progenies, you quickly realise that his house is located on the outskirts of Dahlia. Where the forests sprawl behind the abode and the city lights are just far enough not to pollute the night sky. 

A perfect place to raise a pair of unplanned Newborn Vampires. You conclude that either Sam enjoys living by himself in a secluded property or that this house was given to him by Mr. Solaire. 

Either way, you would've love to sneak out and explore the forest if it weren't for the magical wards that Sam had warned the two of you. The moment you or Fred steps out of the immediate area, Sam would know right away that one of them disobeyed his rules. 

So despite the pleasant night air, there's a strum of anxiety and restlessness stirring within you. Is it because of Sam's recent behaviours or the upcoming Games? You can't tell, not when no one is bothered enough to tell you what's going on. 

You take a deep breath and take your sweet time to exhale the air out. There's no use in working yourself up; not when you just need to get through this Newborn phase. It's better to think of the future. 

And that bastard's mangled corpse at your feet. 

"You should've listened to your friend, little mouse." 

Ironically, the monster's voice is the only thing keeping you sane during this whole happy house facade that Sam and Frederick insist on playing. Late-night fantasies of ripping that smug's asshole to pieces are the only thing that keeps you going, sad as it is. 

It's not revenge; it's justice. It's your atonement for hurting Frederick. What good would apologies serve when you can present that monster's head to him? You're not deluded enough to play the victim; you're the reason why the two of you are the way you are now, but you'll be damn if you admit that to Sam. 

Sam's already blamed you for what happened to Fred. Even if he never says it. His lingering glances and furrowed brows are telling enough. There's no need to give him more ammunition against you. 

You breathe in and out again; willing yourself to calm down. So you start to distract yourself by planning to gather enough money and resources to leave the Clan once Mr. Solaire deems that you're safe to be on your own and to others. His kind smile and knowing eyes should've made you uncomfortable, but all you can feel is genuine compassion and understanding coming from that ancient Vampire King. 

So. Priorities: Passing the Newborn period, gather enough money, clothes and anything else that's important, thank Mr. Solaire for taking you into his Clan, and if it's not too presumptuous, ask him to continue to care for Fred. 

A knock on the door startles you from your train of thoughts, but you keep your gaze on the dark forest laid before you. 

You heard the door creak as it slowly swings open and then, "Bright Eyes? Is... Is everything ok?" 

It's Fred. Of course, it would be Fred. 

"Mm-hmm." You reply absentmindedly. You didn't even have to look at him to know that he doesn't believe your bullshit. And him being your Sire makes it impossible to lie to him, so you often gives out vague responses. 

Most of these days, your interactions with him are curt, with doubt thrown into the mix. Fred is hesitant to press you when you brush away his questions, and in return, you hide as often as possible so you wouldn't step on any emotional landmines in this house. 

"Are you sure? Because I can kind of sense that you're upset..." Fred said after a brief moment of hesitation. Ah, it's going to be one of those nights. 

The bond between a Sire and his Progeny once again proves to be a fucking nuisance. Not only could you not lie to Fred, but he could also sense phantom emotions coming from you. So much for privacy. 

"It's fine, Fred. I was just thinking." There. Not a lie but not the total truth either. 

"O-Oh." From the doorway, Fred bit his lower lip. Why is it getting harder and harder to approach Bright Eyes nowadays? He hates this distance between them. He hates how they rarely left their room. 

He hates how it feels like he's losing his friend as the days go by. 

"Do you, uh, maybe want to play a game or something? Vincent hooked up a Playstation 5 before he left. I think he also left some video games - "

"I'm not in the mood to play tonight, Fred. Maybe tomorrow." 

Fred sighs at the clear dismissal. It honestly hurt; Bright Eyes constant rebuff is getting sharper and sharper. Without another word, Fred left Bright Eyes to their thoughts. 

As usual, nothing is absolved tonight. 

-

It's a boring rainy Wednesday night. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the shutters promises an incoming storm when you hear the sound of rumbling thunders approaching the city from a distance. 

Tonight, Vincent is too busy at D.A.M.N to babysit you and Fred. Sam already left the house an hour after the sun had set with his usual instructions not to go beyond the wards and that a Clan member would be coming over to supervise them. 

Why does this feel like you and Fred are the unwanted children from a divorced couple? Oh well, all the more reason to leave the clan ASAP. 

You plan to brood in your room as usual after draining your share of the blood bags in the fridge. However, the moment you take three steps out of the kitchen, lightning flashes across the sky. 

The power trip, hurtling the entire house into total darkness. 

"The circuit breaker," You murmur, inhumane eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness as you look around the area in 4K HD. "Did Sam ever mentioned where it was?" You tried to recall the house's layout from Sam's words alone, but you tend to tune out his voice whenever he speaks more than twenty minutes. So it looks like you better start from the basement.  

Just when you're about to head downstairs, a whimper froze you. You tilt your head towards one of the bedrooms. 

The sound is coming from Fred's. 

You stood your ground for only a few seconds of hesitation before you quietly approached his bedroom and slowly opened the door as to not startle him — concern creeping into your heart. 

Just like the rest of the house, Fred's bedroom is completely dark. Lightning flashed once more to illuminate Fred's huddled figure on the floor near the window. He's breathing very hard and rapidly with his head in between his knees. 

Your heart twisted into a knot at the sight of a frightened Fred, and you couldn't help but wonder if this is how he looked like when that monster hurt him. 

You forcefully put that thought away. You're horrible with words, but there's one way you can still comfort him. 

Fred's breath hitches when your back lean against his. "B-Bright Eyes?" He calls out with a choked sob, head slightly raised in surprise. 

When you said nothing, Fred let out a ragged sigh. "What are you doing here? I thought you couldn't stand the sight of me." 

You blink and turn your head to give him a side-eye. Say what? 

"Don't give me that l-look." Fred snaps after a sniffle. "You could hardly look at my face lately, and you only leave your bedroom whenever you have to eat. If it weren't for that, you'd happily pretend that Sam and I don't even exist." 

"That's because whenever I'm around, you keep wanting to talk about Wonderworld, and Sam keeps shooting me looks as if I'm a shitstain underneath his fucking boots." You shoot back reflexively. 

Much to the surprise of absolutely no one, your words upset Fred even further. "You can't talk about Sam like that! He's been nothing but kind to us. To you and you just - "

"He blames me for what happened to you!" Fred can't be this oblivious, can he?

Behind you, Fred went stiff.

"You're his Progeny, and I'm the deadweight that he's stuck with because you Turned me. He knows it, Vincent knows it. Fuck it, everyone in the Clan knows it! So why should I give a damn when I'm unwanted? And that's alright! That's totally alright! You want to know why that's alright, Freddy?" Lightning split the night sky. A rather powerful thunder shakes the house, but at this moment, nothing exists except for you, Fred and the tension that has been brewing between the two of you the moment your humanities were forfeit.  

"I'm not planning to stay here any longer than I have to! The moment Mr. Solaire give us the green light, I'm out of Dahlia! Buh-bye! You and Sam can do whatever the fuck you want, but I don't want to stay in this city any longer! I don't have anything left here!" 

Silence enveloped the bedroom. What are you even doing here? Why did you even think you could comfort Fred when all you've been doing is hurting him. Even now! This was a mistake. You should've - 

"I was right. I'm losing you too..." 

"Uh, what?" 

Fred tucks his head in between legs tighter as if he's trying to hide from the world. "I think I always knew that you were going to leave me when you started to pull away from everyone. That's why I wanted us to talk about that Halloween night so badly." His voice is ragged, tears stream down his face. "Y-You said that you don't have anything left in Dahlia, but... you're all that I have left and if you leave... I..." Fred sighed and quietly continued, "I thought I was your friend. I thought I meant something to you." 

"I've hurt you." You reply, just as quietly. "I've been hurting you since Wonderworld, and even tonight, I'm hurting you. I didn't listen to you that night, and because of it, we're here. You lost your family, friends and future and for that I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred. You didn't deserve anything that happened to you." 

"Thank you, Bright Eyes. I-I needed to hear that." Fred reply. When he reaches for your hand, you squeeze it back. "What happened was... fucked up, but none of us knew about that Vampire. Or that Vampires actually exist. So it's stupid of me to blame you for our d-deaths." 

"But I didn't listen - "

"Yes, you didn't listen but will you listen to what I have to say now, Bright Eyes? Please? I want us to move on from this together. I want us to be better." 

Perhaps it's how raw and near begging Fred sounds that both of your walls are down tonight. Perhaps, tonight, you finally realise that it's you that doesn't like confrontations and that despite Fred's gentle and reserved nature, he has no problem mending the wounds between the two of you with force if he has to. Huh, who could've thought? 

The two of you talk for hours in the darkness. It feels so awkward to bear your heart to Fred after everything, but to your immense surprise and relief, he listens to you patiently, and once you're done, he let you into his heart. All the fears, insecurities, regrets, shame and horror are laid between you and together, you address them one by one until the storm lets up. 

And when the silver light of the moon peeking through heavy clouds, you found yourself snuggling with Fred on his bed. Your head tucks into the crook of his neck while Fred's arm is around you. It's strange how lighter your heart is now. 

"Have you stop crying already?" You ask, wondering if you'd need to run to the kitchen to make a simple bag of ice for Fred's red, puffy eyes before they swelled. 

Fred snort. He sniffles and squeezes your body in assurance. Being slightly taller than you, it feels sort of nice to be held like this. Despite their heartfelt conversation and confessions, the trauma they both carry is still fresh, but now, it doesn't feel like an overwhelming miasma threatening to drown you in guilt and sorrow. "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright now. It feels good to finally cry after... after everything." 

"Can't relate." You bluntly interject. "I usually get pissed off after a crying session." 

"I can actually believe that." Fred giggles. "I'm beginning to understand you a lot better, Bright Eyes. Thank you for listening; I know that words are hard for you, so I'm very grateful that you want to work things out as much as I do." 

"Mn." 

Outside, the rain has become a gentle drizzle, and the stars ushered a bright full moon. It's too lovely of a night to brood; you might as well take a nap with Fred. 

"Bright Eyes?" Fred suddenly speaks up, bringing you out of your sleepy haze. 

"Mn?" 

"Do you... I mean... are you still planning to leave Dahlia?" His voice returns to its timid and hesitant state. 

"Well... yeah. After our - urgh - mushy talk, I realise it's all the more reason I need to do it. You're the only thing I have left in this city after all." 

"You want to leave me despite just saying that all you have is me? Uh, I don't... don't get it. Can you please explain it to me, Bright Eyes?" 

You hold back a groan. It looks like Fred has discovered the magic of 'please' and your weakness to it. "I'm planning to kill the Vampire who killed us and use his skull as my apology gift to you." 

Unlike you, Fred groans in disbelieve. You yelp when he manoeuvres you so your body can lie on top of his and trap you in his arms. "No... Bright Eyes, no... no hunting that asshole, OK? You don't need to give me a skull; just stay here with me. Skulls are gross anyway." He whines like a needy toddler, which, surprisingly, makes you feel fond instead of irritated. 

So you roll your eyes and press your face into Fred's chest. Perhaps you can try to convince Fred to leave with you in the future, but for now, nothing matters but the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the faint scent of wet grass outside. 

They're going to be alright. 

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

We’ll Be Free (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Batson x Reader

Warnings: Minor/non-explicit violence

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Billy Batson tries to get into contact with his girlfriend who he left behind after moving with Victor and Rosa.

A/N: To the people asking me to write a part 2. This one is for you anons and @autumnfalls26 and @olyink and @nyeddleblog​

“I miss you; I love you.” You whispered, staring at the picture of the phone wallpaper that you had printed before switching off the phone permanently to prevent being tracked.

You took a picture of the two of you hugging in the mirror, with Billy’s back facing the mirror and your face hidden in his neck. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist and yours were strewn carelessly on his shoulders.

You smiled at it, closing your eyes and sending a quiet prayer into the universe, “I hope you have a good day today.”

“(Y/N)! Come on! The first impression is the most important impression!”

“I’m coming!” You shouted, leaning of your window to see your foster mom pull out of the garage. You quickly leaped over the window sill to hear her scream, “Not that way!”

You rolled your eyes at her, “Would you loosen up? You look like ‘The Scream’.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t jump out of the window then. We’re protecting you from a gang, (Y/N), but if you end up killing yourself first—”

“Oh relax, at most I would’ve fallen a couple of feet.”

She sighed, giving up the battle and just opened the door to the jeep, “Just get in.”

“Yes mom~!!” You chirped and she rolled her eyes again once you slid into the front seat. It had been a month since you stared living with this foster family and you had to admit that they were pretty cool.

Your foster mom was a head neurosurgeon and was married to a military man. So, they were the perfect couple if anything were to happen to you, or if they managed to find you.

It had been a huge change to leave home and then get fostered. Your parents had been arrested after an attempt of murder when they tried to burn down the house with you in it but that had failed and luckily, you were so used to escaping through the window to see Billy that as soon as you smelt fire you had gotten out.

Once again you had Billy to thank for your life.

After that things had happened so fast and things were just spinning around you that you couldn’t even think straight. Before you knew it, you were sitting in a new house with new ‘parents’.

However, it didn’t come with much freedom. You were not allowed to leave the house usually, but they kept you occupied at home. And you weren’t going to ungrateful.

But spending so much time in solitude made you realize how good you had it. You were alive and well and now you had people to rely on. You didn’t have to fend for yourself anymore. You could go to sleep in a warm bed and wake up safely without any fear of who would be outside your locked door.

That’s what you told yourself when you missed Billy and wanted to go back to him.

You tried to convince yourself that this was the best for you, but deep down you knew that this wasn’t what you wanted if you couldn’t share it with Billy.

“Three more years, and we’ll be free.” The two of you used to say and now you were worried that time wouldn’t come and Billy wouldn’t know where you were when it happened.

You were getting bored being locked in the house for most of the day but you’d never let them know. You couldn’t make them feel guilty for protecting you. You would stay locked up at home for eternity if it meant that they wouldn’t get upset with you or think that you were ungrateful.

But not today. Today you could go outside, because today unfortunately or fortunately, you couldn’t decide but you got to go to school. Just to do the necessary paperwork to join a month later so it meant that you wouldn’t be a normal high school student for another month, but it was a step closer.

A step closer to leaving your old life behind.

***

“You should go.” You told your foster mom softly when she got a red alert from the hospital.

“But I have to finish up here.” She stammered and you could tell she was getting a bit panicked from having to leave you alone.

“I can do that; you go do your job.” You told her, giving her a little push towards the door. While you did want her to go from the pure selflessness of your heart, you also wanted a little peace from all her hovering. Not that you’d let her know that.

“I can’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” You urged, handing her purse, “I’ll go straight home. I promise. Scout’s honour.”

“You weren’t even a scout.”

Once she left you felt excited for some reason. You didn’t lie, you were going to go straight home after this but you were still ecstatic about getting to actually walk down the streets for the first time since you had gotten here.

You finished up any remaining work at school pretty quickly and headed home immediately, with your hands tucked inside the pockets of your, well Billy’s, jacket and hood pulled over your head. 

It was a safety measure, so no one would be able to see your face at first glance, but you still didn’t let it ruin your mood as you walked back with a skip in your step.

That was about to change very quickly....

***

It had been another normal, monotonous day for Billy as he walked back home from school. Freddy had gone ahead because he had a free period at the end of the day and hadn’t seen the need to stick around.

So, Billy was alone as he walked back.

He was actually kind of lamenting that the day had been so boring. He was a teen superhero, more interesting things were bound to happen to him but still the closest thing he got to an evil supervillain who wanted to end the world was his science teacher, which to be fair, wasn’t that far off.

His wishes for something interesting were answered when he heard a distant scream and immediately facepalmed, “Why did I even say anything?”

Running to the source of the noise, he ducked into an alleyway and immediately stuttered in his steps. He definitely wasn’t expecting this. He definitely wasn’t expecting to see the love of his life today.

And he expected to see her held at gun point even less.

You were frozen in fear as you stared down the barrel of a gun. He had whipped out the weapon when you had shouted for help and told you if you made any moves he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

You wanted to seem brave and stare him down but you felt your throat closing up and tears began brimming your eyes. You were scared as hell and you had no idea how to get out of this.

“Once we tie up this lose end, we’ll finally get those damn cops off our tails.” He said, cocking the gun and you whimpered, screwing your eyes shut. The next thing you heard was the sound of a gun being fired.

“SHAZAM!”

When you opened your eyes, you saw a blur of red and white move past you so quickly that you couldn’t focus your eyes on it. It beat up the man who held a gun to your head a few minutes ago after the man had wasted all his bullets trying to shoot him.

You wanted to hide, to duck and cover while the hero handled business but you were frozen, the thought of moving your feet and actually hiding never came to your mind but soon enough your weight was too much for your buckling knees to bear and you collapsed on the ground.

The fight was over pretty quickly. The man didn’t even stand a chance against a superhero and he was knocked unconscious. The hero picked up the gun and crushed it in his fist before chucking it in the dumpster.

When he turned to you, you were watching with wide-eyes, body shaking as you tried to process whatever just happened to you.

Realizing that you weren’t in the best state, he stepped closer to you with his hands held out like a was trying to coax a small animal, “It’s okay, (Y/N). I’m not going to hurt you.”

You bit your lip, staring at the older man who saved your life and nodded.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

You nodded once again and he stepped towards you, wrapping an arm around your waist before taking off. Unfortunately, you were too shaken up to take in the joy and wonder of flying and once he landed, setting you in your backyard were you only able to think clearly.

“I, um, don’t know how to that you for saving my life.” You spoke, wringing your hands nervously.

He looked surprised for a second but then he relaxed, sending you a smile before puffing out his chest a little, “All in a day’s work, citizen.”

He meant to take off again but you stopped him, stepping forward, “How did you know my name?”

He looked shell-shocked and completely caught off guard, like he didn’t even remember calling you by your name, “What?”

“You called me (Y/N). How did you know?”

He wanted to lie to you. He wanted to lie and tell you it was because he had the wisdom of Solomon that he was able to know your name and make a hasty retreat. 

But he couldn’t. He had been waiting to see you for so long. He had missed you so much. He couldn’t just turn away and pretend that he had never seen you. He couldn’t stay away from you any longer.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He breathed and you raised a brow, taking a step away from him.

“Do I know you?”

“Just...don’t freak out, okay?”

You didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at him and waiting for something to happen. It looked like he was trying to talk himself into something and he took a deep, cleansing breath before looking at you once again.

“Shazam.”

You shrieked as lightning struck the middle of the backyard, knocking you back a few feet and when the smoke cleared, there stood the boy that you had fallen in love with.

“Billy...?”

He was grinning brightly at you as you stared him down in disbelief before quickly walking up to him. You smiled gently, raising a hand to cup his cheek and close the space between you.

His expression and pure love and happiness changed into one of horror and pure pain before he doubled over and feel to the ground. You lunged forward, catching him in your arms as his dead weight pulled you to the ground.

It was then that you saw the bullet in his back. Your mind rushed to the moment before he stepped in front of you, he must have transformed too late. The world began spinning around you as Billy’s blood spilled onto the grass.

“Mom....” You muttered remembering that she was probably back from work by now before turning your head towards the house and cradling his body in your grasp, “MOM! DAD! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!”

***

The surgery took hours and all the while you sat outside the operation theatre, staring at the closed doors. Your mom had tried to get you to go home and clean up but you refused, wanting to be with him.

From the outside, it looked pretty uneventful and you hoped that was the case. You hoped that the operation was going well and there would be no unseen complications.

You hadn’t taken your eyes off the door longer than the time it took you to blink but you were forced to turn your gaze from the door when a couple came bolting up the stairs.

His foster parents. Victor and Rosa.

The looked absolutely distraught and it made you sniffle, the weight of reality settling on your shoulders.

“What happened?” Rosa asked your mom and she could only turn to you.

“Yes, (Y/N), you need to tell us now. What happened?”

You bit your lip, your gaze averting to your hands that were still covered in his blood and your vision became blurry with tears. 

“He took a bullet for me.”

You heard Rosa gasped and the tears fell. You buried your head in your knees and sobbed quietly, praying that this would get over quickly so you could see him again.

***

“I missed you.” Was the first thing Billy told you once you walked through the door. You smiled but then blushed when you noticed the way his siblings were all looking at you.

“I can come back later.”

He sat up, taking support from Freddy and beckoned you over, “No, it’s cool, they were just leaving.”

It took a few pointed glares to get them out of the hospital room but they left eventually and you settled into the empty chair beside him. You immediately took his hands, cradling them between yours and pressing a small kiss to the back of them.

“I’ve missed you.” He said, looking over at you with a fond smile and he pulled one hand out of your grasp to brush a strand of your hair back before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I missed you too.”

Months of not seeing each other was finally catching up with you. The emptiness that you felt in your chest was finally beginning to fill and you had only wished that it had taken a different way. 

You wanted to apologize but you knew it wasn’t your fault. And he knew it as well. You wanted to say something, anything, that would make him and you feel better but nothing was coming to mind.

You were brought out of your thoughts by a hand on the back of your neck and he slanted his lips over yours. You responded immediately, your body taking control as your arms wrapped around his neck and you tilted your head.

He pulled away before kissing you again, once, twice and then one more for good measure, but even then, you were following his lips. He looked at you like you carried the world in your eyes and like you had strung the stars in the sky.

You kissed him again, as a hello, as a goodbye, as an apology, as a sign of forgiveness and poured all the incomprehensible emotions you were feeling into that kiss, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you next to him in his hospital bed.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

[vidalinav]

More House of Wind Headcanons: Rooms/Floors Edition

These actually help me a lot writing Queen of Queens, sort of like jotting down notes for your fic. So here goes!

There are four levels; the main (top), the first floor of bedrooms, where Cassian and Azriel stay, the second floor of bedrooms where Nesta stays and where there’s a private library, the third level that has the kitchen, and then the levels that start being the library. (This is canon-taken straight from the beginning of ACOSF) 

But there starts being more levels and rooms in between the actual house and the library, and NO ONE knows where they came from. Nesta very much thinks it’s the House; however, EVERYONE else thinks that it’s Nesta who did it unknowingly. Because if she’s not in the house, the rooms do not exist. They start thinking that maybe the House is siphoning magic from Nesta, but it is really just Nesta. Whatever she imagines in the house, exists. 

First Floor: 

Is just the main floor. Honestly not much of it changes, because of the formality of it being the floor that business is held. The House could change it and change it back, but Nesta thinks that’s a hassle, because then every time someone comes over she’s like do you need this room? And so she doesn’t bother with it. They really stop eating in that dining room anyways, so it becomes a stage house that is sort of the beware all who come here type of entrance. The only time it actually changes is during holidays, but they end up having a terrarium of sorts to the side of the house on the mountain outside so.... starfall eventually gets mostly held in there, because it’s also controlled by the House’s heart, but the only way you access that is through the third floor, so the top floor is again just for show. 

Second Floor: 

Ends up being Azriel’s floor and the floor for guests. The House/Nesta redecorate and it’s a lot more apartment-ish. One side of the floor is a large apartment for azriel and the other half is a hallway that leads to more rooms for guests. Each room is made up for specific people, just in case they stay over. All of them are soundproof. Nesta made sure of it. There’s like maybe six rooms. Emerie and Gwyn stay quite often, and Gwyn starts staying their way more often when she starts the process of actually leaving the library, but since she technically still lives there, Clotho is like well... if you just want to keep working here you can, which she does. Emerie stays there more often, because her winning the Rite starts making it harder for her to live in Illyria. Also winnowing back and forth for training is like more steps than necessary and she doesn’t like having to rely on anyone... except that Mor happens to winnow her often, which she appreciates. She still does live of course in Illyria, but her friends are in Velaris, so she struggles with if she wants to live there or not. Because that’s her livelihood, but Nesta is like do what you want and let the house know. Eventually she gives her a key, but that will be explained later in this long ass thread. 

Third Floor: 

This is Nesta and Cassian’s home which is so pretty and Nesta’s whole aesthetic. Again it’s more apartment-ish. Of course, there’s one hallway that you know has the stairs and leads to the terrarium/sunroom place and the small private library, but otherwise most of the rooms get combined to be just Nesta’s and Cassian’s. It really looks like a large house. Besides their room which has the biggest bed you’ve ever seen, there’s of course so many windows on this floor. Some are the balcony's carved out, some are just giant windows. There’s one window in the living room/ private library that opens, but is technically not a balcony, and there’s flowers along the window sill, which Nesta loves and of course she can see all of the city. The whole floor is very bright, cream and blue is the theme. A mixture of seaside and hygge. I feel which I have pictures of on pinterest lol. But there are maybe three empty rooms for when Nesta and Cassian decide to have kids. Nesta caps it at three. But actually one of these rooms gets filled in my fic, but not because of a baby that they have themselves. But I’ll let y’all unpack that one. The private library gets decorated on a regular basis with holidays and when they’re having small family gatherings or have a war meeting, they use this place. It has a large table in the middle for studying, so it’s a good place, and it’s just a way more comfortable, happier setting. There’s also cat fixtures that climb up the walls and cat doors that lead to the most obscure places for Bryaxis when he’s a cat, for those of you who’ve read that fic idea post. Maybe you haven’t. 

The Terrarium/sunroom place: 

This place has a literal pond in the middle. It is so large, and there are wild plants all to the side of it, even in the middle of winter, because it’s like a greenhouse. All of it is windows. It is tucked away, on the side of the mountain, you can only reach it from Nesta and Cassian’s floor and it is a gift from the House to Nesta and Cassian as a mating present... sort of. It’s mostly to Nesta. It has A LOT of poisonous, carnivorous plants. Which Nesta learns are useful... because she starts dabbling in her witchy magic and she learns how to make poisons. This place starts being like a lab almost. If she learns magic, she does it here, away from the House with actual people in it. But on Starfall, they do start having the celebration here, because it is the perfect view of the stars. It is the closest you can get without being splattered by star guts and the windows of course clean themselves. You can access outside through here, so sometimes they’ll just open up the doors and go outside to the porches that surround it. Elain will come here often, mostly because she does want to hang out with Nesta and Nesta is not keen on going anywhere, so at first she goes because she’s like well I can take care of your plants, and Nesta is like the House takes care of it, but if you want I guess... and she does take care of them, and actually while Nesta excels at all things magic, it’s really Elain who starts exceling at poisons. They kind of bond over it lol. 

What floor am I on? Fourth Floor: 

Is where the kitchen is. Nesta never goes here. Elain goes here every once in a while, especially when she tries to make Nesta things, but Nesta is very adamant that the House will do it for her, but at some point the House is like let your sister do something for you! So it withholds her desserts. Elain is very happy to oblige and most of the time, it is just Nesta sitting on a stool by the work table, warmed by the heat of the oven, her music playing from the symphonia, and Elain smiling softly as she works, perfectly content, while Nesta reads a book or talks about what she learned in the library this week or that. It is very hard to get Nesta to talk sometimes, so Cassian is actually immensely  grateful that Elain gets more pushy about communicating with Nesta and having her talk with her more. Not on a super deep level, but a companionship to have, because Nesta is mostly introverted, except for occasional instances, and if she can, she will avoid personal connection at all costs. It’s just a habit. There are certainly days where Nesta is more subdued that most, and usually he’ll give it a couple days, but if she’s still sort of off by the end of the week, that’s when Elain comes. She actually shows up by herself and Cassian’s always like how did you know and how did you even get here? And she’s like it’s a sister thing. Nesta and her get closer this way. 

So, on the Fifth floor: 

These are the floors that start being based off of whatever Nesta wants to see, because that’s how she unknowingly does magic. 

On this floor, there is a massive ballroom. I’m telling you there are fountains on the walls with cherubs, paintings on the ceilings that both look angelic and looks like clouds are in the sky and they’re moving. It’s bedecked in white and gold and there are crystal chandeliers hanging from the domed ceiling and it is so tall. It’s like a cathedral, and every time music plays which it does as soon as Nesta walks in, it echoes in there. Like loud, moaning sounds. Cassian thinks its creepy af, but Nesta loves that haunting sort of extravagances, and she swears she can see shadows dancing along with her. She starts taking private dance lessons in my fic, and this is where she practices. It has a lot of giant bouquets. 

But not only that there are two rolling staircases and when you go up them, that level is a theatre. Reds and velvet, and dim faelights that float in the air as if they’re floating on water. Think Phantom of the Opera. This “room” most of the time goes unused, but Nesta specifically starts being like well... I’m a big fan of the arts and music, so let’s start hosting things here. And it starts becoming a really big thing to be invited to these things. However, it’s mostly because Nesta still doesn’t really want to go out into the city, but she does want to hear a symphony. So it’s actually Cassian’s idea at first, to invite the orchestra to play at their home theatre for a surprise, and it just becomes a thing and citizens are invited, because it’s just a huge theatre to just be 2 people. However the stairs are a big problem, but we get passed that, but I’ll go into detail about that later.

Sixth floor: 

Is just one narrow hallway that leads to one door. But that door can lead you anywhere. And Nesta has a really hard time figuring out how to use it. Because one of the powers Nesta has, instead of winnowing, in my fic, is that she can open any door and go anywhere she wants, provided that there is a door, even one she draws. But she doesn’t figure that out until she figures out this door. So, for a while, she keeps opening the door and it leads to the riverfront estate, and Rhys is so freaked out that she just pops out of the closet, and she’s so freaked out too. But she closes the door and when Rhys tries to open it, it’s just a closet, and he’s like all looking through it like wth, knocking on the wood. But when Nesta opens it, it’s not even the house, it’s like a large dark abyss and some monster starts trying to claw it’s way out, so she shuts it really quick and the door keeps pounding and she’s like never again. And she gets very wary about opening anything, except many times the IC will ask her to use this door, so that they can find things. Similarly to scrying, where she knows the locations of things, she can open the door thinking of that specific object and she’ll end up being in that location. Nesta does not like this door, because she thinks it has a mind of its own, even though a lot of it is just her controlling where it goes. But because of this door, she learns that she can make any door a portal, so she ends up “drawing” a door at the base of the mountain outside which becomes an actual door which leads to the theatre. Also, she learns that there are a specific set of keys that the House gifts her, which unlocks and locks these portals she makes attached to the house specifically. Cassian and Emerie of course have one, but she gifts two also to Feyre and Elain on the premise that if they should ever need her and for some reason cannot fly up and obviously don’t want to climb the stairs or if they’re somewhere else entirely, they can visit her and be lead back by just unlocking any door they’re by and it will make a door to the House. Eventually she learns to have the door open to the seaside. And let me tell you, think Japan’s Hitachi Seaside park, with all the nemophilia (blue flowers), but all of it eventually coming to end at a beach or water striking the cliffside, still haven’t decided on that. 

I think that’s all the floors, but tbh, there might be more. I’m just super tired and I can’t think anymore or describe things. So for now, that concludes the House of Wind, Rooms and Floors Edition. Let me know if y’all have any headcanons or suggestions that you might want to see! Bye. 

[nbrook29]

11 goofy kiss pls<33

4, 7 for Sobbe omg👀💫👀💫 your talent kgnfjfnlfkf ...

Can you do 15 or 20? Or both for sobbe

Sooo this isn't really on the list of prompts but maybe you could write something about Robbe being totally obsessed with Sander's pouty bottom lip - whenever he sees it he has to pounce on it and kisses/bites/touches/pulls on it. Sander is either turned into a wreck or he teasingly indulges Robbe's obsession 

Hi! :)

based on But do you REALLY want the K?

Goofy kiss + Eyelid kiss + Distract kiss + Shut up kiss + Asker’s Choice

In hindsight, Robbe should have seen it coming.

When his school announced that they had received funding to organize free 6-month workshops for their students and local college students after hours, it got his interest right away. Especially when it turned out that the offered courses focused on more niche subjects.

Robbe has always felt some inexplicable fascination with Scandi culture, Norwegian in particular. In fact, ever since he discovered the multiverse theory he’s been half-convinced there must be a Norwegian version of him existing somewhere out there, which would explain this unusual interest of his. 

So when he was scanning the list of available courses and his eyes caught Norwegian 101, his heart beat a little faster and he giddily signed up right away.

And then Sander signed up too, claiming that a) if there’s a Norwegian version of Robbe there must be a Norwegian version of Sander too, thank you very much, so it is his duty to learn a little bit of his alter ego’s language, and b) it’s going to be a perfect opportunity for them to make up for the fact that they didn’t experience being in high school together. He’s always all pouty when he talks about it, mourning all those lost opportunities of them making out against a window sill in biology classroom or having secret meetings in the bathroom during class and demands compensation in the form of extra long makeout sessions in Robbe’s bed. 

Robbe doesn’t exactly mind, neither the joint classes nor kissing the pout away, which always effectively shuts him up. Quite the contrary actually. Ever since Sander texted him a screenshot of the participants list with DRIESEN SANDER under D, he’s been all hyped up at the prospect of the two of them studying together. 

His friends don’t exactly understand why he’s willing to spend his free time in their school building but at least Yasmina shows interest in the workshops as well, signing up for a few, Norwegian included.

He and Sander are the first ones to arrive to the Monday session, and when Sander notices that the classroom is still empty he wiggles his eyebrows grinning at Robbe cheekily, spins him around in a swift move and pins him to the window sill, his hands going around his thighs to make him sit down on it. 

“Is this everything you dreamed about and more?” Robbe chuckles at the delighted look on Sander’s face, legs snaking around his waist to hold him tighter.

“Yes, I got you right where I want you,” he replies smugly and doesn’t wait another second before pressing a tiny kiss to his lips, then another one, and another, until Robbe makes a soft noise of protest making Sander finally give in and kiss him properly, dipping his tongue past his lips in no time. Robbe lets one of his hands slip down, making his path down his back over the black denim jacket, stopping barely above Sander’s belt, and then without second-guessing himself goes down even lower to give his butt a firm squeeze, because it’s just so... deliciously squeezable.

They only break apart when they hear someone clearing their throat and when Robbe catches the sight of Yasmina regarding them with amusement, he quickly disentangles himself from Sander, wiping at his mouth with poorly hidden embarrassment. Sander is unfazed, as always, turning around with a swagger and shooting Yasmina one of his most charming smiles. She’s not a sucker for it though, contrary to Robbe, so she just fondly rolls her eyes shaking her head at their antics.

The classroom starts to fill in quickly after and before they realize the only empty seats left are placed in the back. Only Yasmina manages to snatch herself one closer to the front. Sander graciously allows Robbe to take the only unoccupied spot in the sixth row and he himself marches over to row eight.

The first hour and a half flies by and Robbe is having more fun than he anticipated. The teacher, Vilde, is young, she’s quirky in that positive way and her approach to the subject differs from what Robbe is used to during his regular classes. 

He takes notes diligently and tries to participate as much as possible but he struggles with pronunciation when asked for reading a few words out loud. When Vilde asks Sander to read them, he does it with flying colors, the jerk, and the girl is so impressed that she calls him a natural, praising his perfect pronunciation of “engelsk” and “kjole” while smiling a bit too much and too wide at him. In Robbe’s humble opinion. 

Once she goes back to writing on the board, he turns around to see Sander giving him a shit-eating grin so he does the only right thing in this situation and sticks his tongue out at him.

They are two hours in when Robbe gets hit in the ear with a small paper ball which then lands perfectly in the middle of his notebook. He throws a glance at the obvious suspect but Sander seems to be deep into copying the grammar rules from the board to his MacBook. 

His elegant handwriting gives him away though.

Du er digg 🖤

Vilde mentioned that last word just five minutes ago, more as a fun fact than anything else but of course Sander caught and remembered it.

He’s fighting against the beaming smile that threatens to take over his face because he doesn’t want to look like a lunatic to everybody around. Sander isn’t bothered by things like that though so when Robbe looks at him again he’s resting his chin on his hand, staring at him unabashedly with a grin of his own as he notices the flush on Robbe’s cheeks.  

He tells him as quietly as he can to quit distracting him to which Sander raises his arms in surrender and with a feigned-serious expression busies himself with the given exercise. If Robbe then tucks the note into the back of his notebook no one needs to know.

Not even a full five minutes pass when another paper ball lands on his desk. Robbe heaves a long-suffering sigh and raises his eyes to the heavens because yes, now he has to deal with a rebel of a boyfriend.

When he straightens out the note, he snorts.

Do you like me? 

Circle YES or NO

🖤

Seems like Sander is having lots of fun acting out this high school romance fantasy. 

He decides to indulge him and reaches for a red ink pen to circle YES. Then, he adds a bunch of crooked hearts (because he’s not the artist in this relationship) on a whim. Once he makes sure Vilde isn’t looking in their direction, he throws the note back to Sander, but not without catching the disapproving look from Yasmina who rolls her eyes so hard Robbe is surprised they aren’t stuck. He just shrugs at her without remorse. 

Sander opens the paper ball as delighted as a child opening their Christmas gift and when he sees the answer he pretends to swoon in his chair, blowing him a long kiss from above his notes.

“Sander, I think you should be paying attention.” Vilde’s reproach pulls Robbe from gazing at his boyfriend like a love-struck puppy and he immediately shoots him a cheeky grin because it’s just really satisfying to watch him being scolded by a teacher.  

“Yes, yes, you’re right,” Sander clears his throat as he straightens on his chair before he glances at his laptop and adds with a smirk, “Or, rather, Du har rett, Vilde.”

Then he winks at her and his confident demeanor clearly succeeds to appease her because she starts to wax lyrical about his oh so amazing pronunciation again.

Ugh. What a show off.

Though, Robbe has to admit that it sounds kinda hot when he speaks Norwegian but it’s not like he’s going to go and tell him that. Instead, he reaches for his phone to shoot him a quick text.

R: You’re such a teacher’s pet oh my god

R: Also stop flirting with her, she’s seconds away from swooning 

S: Are we jealous?

R: Yes, very, I’m worried you’re gonna run away to norway with her and have viking children together 🤭

S: 😘

There is no bell signaling the end of the class but at 17:15 Vilde thanks them for today’s lesson and everybody starts to pack and gradually leave. Robbe is shoving his stuff into his backpack when he feels fingers in his hair pulling his head back without real force to angle it better. Then, Sander places a big loud smooch on his lips making him giggle and swipe at him lightly.

“You’re such a dork.”

He reaches to put the strands hanging over his forehead back in their place, scratching at his scalp a little and when Sander leans into the touch, closing his eyes with a pleased purr, he stands on his tiptoes and presses a tiny kiss to his left eyelid, which earns him one of Sander’s sweetest smiles. 

Once his bag is packed, they leave the classroom with their index fingers entwined, swaying their hands a little as they walk. “So, did you like that class?” 

Sander nods. “Yeah, it was cool. You?”

“You know, I thought those three hours are gonna be a bitch but it was actually pretty fucking nice.”

Sander pushes his tongue in his cheek, wiggling his eyebrows at him. “And did you like my notes?”

Robbe pretends to scrunch up his face, trying not to laugh at Sander’s offended huff. “Hey! Well, okay then, if you’re like that I’m not gonna send you any next time.”

He juts out his bottom lip and honestly, it’s Robbe’s kryptonite, and he’s long made peace with a fact that he’s weirdly obsessed with it; it’s just so plush and enticing and he has spent hours upon hours kissing and biting it, the fact that it made Sander go weak in the knees for him an additional bonus.

So Robbe uses it against him to distract him from pouting, and this time it’s him who pushes Sander against the wall close to the school exit. He pulls their bodies together, delighted at the surprised hitch in Sander’s breath when he sticks out his tongue to drag it along his bottom lip, pulling it with his teeth to nip it a little, to then soothe the sting with his tongue again. He can feel his ministrations are starting to work and with each second Sander is turning into a pile of goo in his arms. 

A voice in the back of his head tells him the school corridor is probably not the best place for this so he eventually pulls back and drags him away from the wall to the school yard. Sander follows him but not without half-hearted protests that stop only when Robbe kisses him hard to shut him up in the middle of the school yard.

“Come on, there’s a bed in my room with our names on it and my mom works until 20 tonight.”

“Is there a shower with our names on it too?”

“If you’re good,” Robbe pretends to think about it, “then I guess that can be arranged.”

[solohux]

Hey, prompts are still open! And I just got this quick idea. Hux is a house fox, domesticated and rather pampered. Kylo, on the other hand, is as feral as feral can be but he just loves to stare at Hux from the forest line. The, rather red, fox loves to sit on the window sill and sun bathe and just love to watch this feral black fox from his pillowed sill. Hux is never let out but when his owner leaves one day, nothing is stopping Hux from meeting his beloved admirer.

Of course, one meeting leads to two, then three...and then a few pups, much to the owners chagrin.

what is meant to be a drabble has turned into 1.8k. enjoy!

Armitage has been waiting for this day for a while now. His owners, are having a overnight date night tonight, leaving the pampered pet fox alone in their countryside mansion for the day, free to do whatever he wants without their gaze.

Today, Armitage is going to see the black fox. A neko like Armitage, the fox has long, dark hair and two furry ears that sit atop his head, and bushy black tail with a white tip. He appeared last summer on the very edge of the forest that backs onto the Hux’s family home, staring up at the window where Armitage spends most of his day. The windowsill of one of the mansion’s many studies—on the second floor—gives Armitage a grand view of the woodland and beyond, and he loves nothing more than lying in his heated bed amongst a plethora of plump pillows and napping the day away. He’d spotted movement in the garden below one early morning and looked down to find a handsome black fox

So feral and rugged, Armitage had fallen in love almost immediately. He’s never even met another fox like him before, though neighbours had brought their excitable puppy—Poe—around for a visit one day and Armitage had screamed bloody murder at the pup. He didn’t like others in his territory but nothing unwanted had stirred in him when he set his eyes on the black fox in the garden, watching him prowl around before going back to the forest.

The black fox has been back to visit Armitage and stare up at him every day ever since.

The day has finally arrived that Armitage can sneak out without repercussions. Madame is fussing over him as she usually does, stroking through his soft, copper-coloured hair and making sure the red bow around his neck is still as perfect as it should be. Armitage almost purrs at her touch, always loving how much his owner spoils him.

“Honey, we have to go,” Sir says, tapping his foot at the door. “The car is waiting.”

“I just hate leaving him,” Madame says, fixing his blankets and pillows to make sure that her pet is comfy.

“He’ll be fine. It’s only for one night.”

“We’ve left you plenty of food, dear Armie,” she says, combing her fingers down his spin and to his fluffy tail. “And we’ve even left the television on the cooking channel.”

“Darling, please. Let’s go.”

“Yes, yes. Coming.” Madame stands up, smiling down at Armitage with her bright red, lipstick-covered lips. “Be good, Armie. We’ll see you soon.”

Armitage merely gives his tail a bit of a wag as they leave the room, though he listens carefully for them grabbing their suitcase and going out of the door. As quickly as he can, Armitage kicks off his covers and dashes to the front bedroom, peeking out from behind the safety of the blinds to see Madame and Sir climbing into their taxi and being driven away down the long, cobbled path to the front gate.

They’re finally gone. Armitage breathes a sigh of relief. The house feels much bigger with just him in it, free to wander around without the worry that he’ll disturb Sir’s work and be punished for it before Madame can find out, but he hasn’t time to dwell on things. His admirer is, no doubt, already waiting for him on the border to the forest.

But before Armitage can dash out of the door, he looks down at himself. Currently, he’s wearing nothing but the thick, red ribbon around his neck—tied in a bow but looking more like a collar—and a pair of skimpy red shorts. Madame has an array of clothes for her pretty pet all in the wardrobe in Armitage’s own bedroom so he goes there and begins looking through the clothes, wondering what would look best to impress his admirer for their first meeting. The black fox is always bare-chested and barefoot but wears knee-length black leggings and a long, black cape that looks like it could be made from the fur of his prey—or perhaps, another neko who dared go against him—so it’s unlikely that the fox would be too concerned with Armitage’s outfit.

But still. He wants to look nice for, what he considers to be, a first date.

Leaving his red shorts on, Armitage adorns a simple white shirt—one that’s a little short around the middle to reveal a classy amount of his soft belly—and a white hooded cloak, one that has a long slit up the back to allow his tail to be free. He may be a little chilly but he feels good in this outfit, showing off his pale skin in all of the right places. He slips on a pair of his diamante-encrusted slippers and heads downstairs, ignoring the platters of food that Madame has left out for him. There’s only one thing he wants right now and it isn’t that kind of meal. He’s hungry for something else.

Armitage quickly finds the key to the back door and he’s out onto the porch in the cool September air without hesitation, though gets overwhelmed after he takes his first breath of fresh, outdoor air in a long while. He’s a solely indoor fox, a neko bred for humans to adopt and keep as their pets. He has never known anything other than his warm windowsill, never even felt the grass beneath his toes—but by the looks of the dampness that covers the grass on the edge of the porch where he stands, he doesn’t want to feel it and he’s more concerned with his pretty shoes getting ruined.

But the very moment that Armitage looks up and finds the black fox staring at him from across the way, everything else becomes irrelevant.

Armitage’s first step onto the outside ground is met with disinterest as he walks across the Hux’s perfect back garden, through the back gate and out into the so-called wilderness; the patch of unowned land between the Hux’s mansion and the forest.

The black fox looks as handsome as ever, though as he gets closer to him, Armitage can see a scar that runs across his face, one that looks like 3 parallel claw marks that cascades over one eye and down his cheek. A battle wound, Armitage assumes. He finds himself shivering at the thought of the black fox being feral.

Armitage, in his white cloak, stands opposite the black fox and flags his tail in a sign of friendliness. From the safety of his windowsill, Armitage hadn’t quite realised just how much wider the other fox’s physique was compared to his own. He’s very broad-shouldered, but it only makes his cape and his stature look more regal, like a forest king.

“Hello,” Armitage speaks in his native fox-tongue, hoping that the black fox speaks the same language as him. His hopes of that are seemingly slashed in half when the other fox cocks his head at him and begins to close the gap between them with small steps, his dark gaze examining every inch of Armitage’s body as he moves closer.

Could Armitage have been wrong all this time? Is this fox about to claw him and sling him over his shoulder to be tonight’s meal? How naïve of him to think that a handsome, feral fox could possibly—

But the black fox drops to his knees very suddenly and bows his head as he reaches out for Armitage’s hand, taking it and placing a very gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“Taa’mia risaan,” the fox says, his voice deep and perfect.

But Armitage hasn’t a clue what he’s said, “I-I’m sorry?”

The black fox looks up, his dark hair falling around his face, “It’s forest-speak for ‘you are beautiful’. Very beautiful.”

Armitage feels himself blushing. “Thank you. You’re handsome yourself, Mr…”

“Ren,” the fox stands up, still holding onto Armitage’s hand and gives it another kiss. “Kylo Ren. I am Master and Leader of these woods.”

“I’m Armitage.”

“I’ve never seen a fox like you before,” Kylo says, sniffing the air a little. “Those humans. They stole you?”

“No,” Armitage shakes his head, looking back up to the house. He can see his windowsill from here, so close but so far at the same time. “Those people are my owners. They keep me warm and feed me and buy me things.”

“Red foxes have not been in these woods for centuries. I did not know they still existed but you captivated me the moment I saw you through the glass.” Kylo leans in to Armitage, clearly unaware of personal space so the closeness makes Armitage widen his eyes. “Your hair. It’s like a crown of copper.”

“Master Ren—”

“Kylo.”

“Kylo. I only have a limited time away before my owners are back and I must be back inside before then,” Armitage explains. “I want to know everything about you. And more.”

Armitage can’t help it. He turns around and lifts his tail up, revealing his perfectly peachy ass in his tight, red shorts. He half expects the fox to begin howling like a wolf at the sight but he doesn’t though he begins breathing deeply, his hot breath on Armitage’s neck just as the latter feels teeth begin to scrape against his skin. He almost melts back against Kylo’s chest.

“Your cape,” Kylo says quietly. “It is getting dirty.”

Before Armitage can complain about the change of topic, he’s swept up into Kylo’s strong arms as though he weighs nothing. Armitage can barely contain his glee.

“I suppose you have a den in these woods, Kylo,” Armitage says, raising an eyebrow and wrapping his arms around his admirer’s neck.

“I do, my pretty red thing,” he replies, carrying his new mate into the forest, “But forgive me for wanting to bring you some dinner first. For a pampered pet, you are much too thin.”

“Careful, Kylo. I can leap out of your arms and go straight back home.”

“Oh, Armitage,” Kylo growls, making Armitage smile and sending shivers across the red fox’s skin in excitement. “I’d like to see you try.”

[retiredteabag]

What Happened To You?

Pairing: Kirishima x reader

Genre: angst with fluff :)

Word count: ...

Synopsis: You were a very positive girl, but when you have one of the hardest weeks ever and break down, who will be there to comfort you?

——————————————————————————

This week was so great, perfect justttttt perfect. <— that was sarcasm, it was most definitely not perfect. :(

Y/n was a very positive girl, not only for others but also herself, if she was struggling she would focus on the good. She would constantly go to bed and try to clear her mind, de-stress and not talk to others about negative stuff because she knew it would bring her down and make others worry. She would wake up everyday with the idea that no matter how busy she was, she could make the day great.

This week was no different, but as you know, time carries on, stress builds, it can wear a person down. Exams were coming up, y/n’s family had been really busy and although y/n loved her family she just couldn’t talk to them right now. All of her clothes looked weird these days, thank goodness UA had a uniform. Her classmates seemed so cheerful, she didn’t want to ruin that, so she carried on.

She would run everyday, it became a routine and it helped her cool off, today was just like other days. She tied her shoe laces, pulled up her hair, stretched a bit, and got on her way. She usually went the same route and she knew her way well.

She was running when she lost her footing. Ouch, what the heckkk, that never happens. She had twisted her ankle, she could tell, not from the pain but from the grossly worrying ✨crunch✨ she winced, couldn’t even feel the pain yet but she had fallen too. As she tumbled down the hill the earphones in her ears were ripped out, covering her head she came to a stop.

A large sigh escaped her mouth. ‘It’s alright, it’s okay’ is what she said to herself, she got up and it was very apparent that the adrenaline rushing through her body was basically gone now because her ankle hurt like hell. ‘It’s alright, it’s okay’ she mumbles to herself. She can walk, she can. It just ~really really hurts~ and she can push through.

She’s almost up the hill when she remembers her earphones weren’t with her. Another sigh. She turns and waddles down the hill again. ‘It’s okay, you can get you music going, make it back, get a hot shower, and then sweatpants. :) sweatpants.’ and that became her motivation.

She bends over, grunting loudly, much like a hippo, and gets her earphones, she’s plugging them in as she makes her way up the hill and starts her music.

?? Starts her music. ?? ‘What the hell?’ Pressing the volume button, she turns it up. Pauses and unpauses the music, checks her data, even wastes one of her precious skips on her free Spotify plan 😩 The next song was her favorite-most recent add. She unplugs her earbuds and presses play, the music loudly booms out.

‘It’s alright, it’s okay my earbuds are broken it’s cool it’s not like their expensive’ and she carries on. Tosses them in a public trash bun and makes her way back to the dorms. Smiling and waving at people on the street and ❤️boy does her foot hurt❤️ She’s just back at the building when she sees Momo.

“Hey y/n!! How was your run?” She smiles at you and you smile back.

“It was good, how are you?” Momo says she’s well and they go their separate ways. A very tiny part of y/n is sad that Momo didn’t notice the pain she was in, but then again, it’s not like she gave any evidence of the ache in her ankle. This was her fault.

She opened her dorm room door and closes it up. She sighs and takes off her shoes, her socks are sweaty and gross as she removes them (🥵) she had missed dinner and she groans in disappointment. Hopping in the shower she stretches her back.

Update: the water never got hot enough and she had run out of conditioner.

‘It’s okay some people don’t even use conditioner, it’s fine...’ she thinks, but her hair already felt uncomfortable. The idea of her favorite soft sweatpants she bought from the men’s section is all she wants right now, and luckily for her she had cleaned them that morning. Her ankle is crying at that point and for some reason her shins and thighs really hurt. Maybe she can text and ask Jirou to get them for her :D

“Heyy Jirou 👋🏻”

“What’s up?”

“Your dorms right by the washing machines 🥺 I was wondering if you could get my sweatpants from the farthest right machine, their pretty big and dark blue.”

“Oh y/n, the machines broke, the water pipes burst this morning 😯 I can’t believe you didn’t know, all the clothes were soaked”

“What? oh my gosh :( well it’s okay, how are you?”

It wasn’t okay, things were getting progressively harder for y/n to be positive and now she can’t even be comfy while she stresses out about exams. Y/n spent another hour and a half going over school stuff while icing her ankle. And she’s embarrassed to say she went through a few toilet paper squares whipping away her angry tears, her tissue box empty as it was also allergy season.

She went to bed stressed and sad. But she still went to bed with ‘it’s alright, it’s okay, tomorrow is a new day, I can do this’ her eyes closed and luckily got some shut eye.

She did not wake up from her alarm, nor the sun, nor a villain attack, no, it was the 🙂throbbing pain🙂 in her ankle. But heyyy it’s alright just choke down a few ibuprofen, probably some acetaminophen since she finished off her ibuprofen last night and God knows she doesn’t have the extra $$$ to buy name brand meds right now.

And dangggg did her legs hurt, she shimmies up her skirt and tucks her shirt in, she’s looking in the mirror as she ties her shoes when she notices her bruises, ya know the purple and yellow globs of skin all along her knees. Great.

It was hard to keep a positive mindset that day. She was really struggling to keep it up. And it wasn’t hard for others to tell. She smiles as she takes her seat in class, Ochaco immediately notices her bruises.

“Y/N WHAT HAPPENED?!” She wails, y/n shakes out a laugh sorta sound and shrugs,

“I don’t know, like they just come outta nowhere, it’s so weird, I probably got them on my run or in training.” She smiles at Ochako.

“Y/nnnnn” she wines, “you gotta be more carful!” And then she turns around to respond to iida calling her.

Y/n sighs, you were tired, unmotivated to even focus on the lesson, your normal happy vibe wasn’t there anymore and you were definitely not the only one who could tell.

Kirishima was a really observant guy, he knew from past tests how worked up you got over you’re studies but this didn’t seem like the same stress. You looked overworked and tired, not to mention the bruises, ᵂʰʸ ʷᵉʳᵉⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵃᵏᶦⁿᵍ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠˀ :(

He spent most of the lesson focused on you, the frown on your face made his stomach hurt.

“Hey y/n! :D” Kirishima dances over to you.

Your face immediately brightens up, “Hey Kiri, how are you?”

“I’m doing well, I just wanted to check up with you.” He has a kind of concerned look on his face, a cute eye smile but his eyebrows furrow together.

Y/n pauses, but then smiles, “D’awe Kiri that’s so sweet, I’m doing well, thank you for asking”

Kirishima isn’t dumb, yeah he’s not the smartest book-wise, but he’s really good at reading people.

“Oh, okay, just making sure.” He’s disappointed and a little sad you didn’t confide in him. He rubs your shoulder and gives one last smile.

As he leaves your hand traces over the phantom chill of his lingering touch. For some reason his concern brings a tinge of tears to your eyes. ‘Geez get over yourself y/n’

In other news, your ankle was doing terribly 😁.

——————————————————————————

There’s a certain line for you, a certain line that if crossed you just can’t help but break down. At this point you were close, but not in the danger zone. You shoulda known better than to spent the night studying again.

You wake up feeling terribly rested but what did you expect? There was a noise at the window and you thought you were imagining it at first but it continued. The blinds screech open and you make a mental note to try to never provoke that noise this early ever again. But all thoughts leave you at the sight of a baby bird.

Laying on your window ledge is a baby bird, probably not a week old, there was nearly no fuzz on the innocent creature, definitely no wings yet.

Y/n is kicked into action. The baby was hurt, barely moving. Y/n’s tentative hands scoop the lil guy and he’s cold, shivering, and still as loud as ever, a strangled noise comes from y/n. She did not care if she was gonna be late, this bird was gonna die.

And this is the part I hate the most because there’s nothing, nothing she coulda done, nothing. And she just watches as the little bird wiggles slowly and then just stops. Her mind is as silent as ever and her lips are sealed, her eyes water and she doesn’t know what she’s supposed to do, just let it sit there? Does she bury it?

As tears roll of her cheeks she sets the little bird in an empty shoe box, she sets the box on the window sill and then she leaves.she leaves as if nothing just happened. She’s still taking it on okay? That was literally he most sporadic thing she’s ever done, there was no plan, no thought in that event, she just watched a creature die. ‘It was just a bird, it’s alright, its okay y/n’

But tears are still rolling off her cheeks and she knows it’s not just about the bird, it was about everything, not talking to her family, her friends, stress over school, her bad days piling up, it just crashed. She hid herself in the bathroom and washed her face with the sink water. There were no towels so she had to dry it off with tissue paper that stuck to her face. Her tears never stopped, though her eyes clenched painfully, and her hands kept rubbing and she kept taking those deep breaths it seemed that nothing helped and then she sniffled and then a choked squeak left her. Her eyes kept watering and her head ached. Her legs ached. Her bandages foot ached. Her heart ached. She cried loudly, she can’t remember the last time she cried audibly, but she’s gasping and wailing.

At some point she picks up her feet and splashes her face again, this time drying it with the bottom of her tucked shirt. Her eyes are red and swollen but if she walks into class with her hair and head down nobody would notice.

People noticed. She was late, Aizawa scolded her and she cleared her throat before apologizing. Nobody could tell yet as she took her seat. Froppy pokes her back from her desk,

“What happened, ribbit?”

Y/n clears her throat loudly and coughs a bit, she leans back and tilts her head, “I just slept in.” Her voice does ~not~ sound like her. And everyone can tell. Bakugou is staring and from the back of the room kirishima watches carefully again.

By the end of class y/n’s head is down and covered by her arms, her eyes are closed-the light only worsening her headache.

The girls whisper about her, nothing malicious, just about their worries, she wasn’t herself, y/n was a morning person, never late, never. She always greeted the class and today she sounded so distressed.

“Hey y/n, lets head to lunch, todays lesson was so boring I was just thinking about how hungry I was all lesson.” Ochacohad a smile on her face as she looked down at your sunken form, your head still on the table.

“Nah, Ochaco, I’m not too hungry today.” You mumble.

“You okay y/n? you seem kinda down.” She squats down to try to look at you.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath to fix your voice, “yeah I’m just tired is all no worries, you lift your head up and smile at her. Her face only grows more concerned at your swollen eyes. “O-oh okay, hang in there y/n we’re here for you.”

She walks sideways to share glances at the other girls and also look at you. They leave to the cafeteria and you scold yourself for worrying them. Everyone else is gone, you sigh and tug on your hair.

The noisy drag of rubber on stone fills the room and you flinch up, full attention. A chair drags it’s way in front of your desk, a mop of vibrant red hair clears your view. Oh. Well... that’s a thing.

“Hey.” He says

“Hey.” You say, trying to sound little congested as possible, but your nose is just so clogged and your throat is a bit scratchy. “We’re you not too hungry? You should still get something, I have somthing in my bag if you want- oh well maybe I don’t but I have some cash for a vending machine.” You spew out, he doesn’t respond.

He just looks at you, and he feels the guilt he felt yesterday once again, he should pressed kn more, her shoulda made sure you really were okay, he could tell you were upset yesterday but he shrugged it off and now you were pretending to not care and offer him snack money.

You had obviously been crying, why? It had to have been this morning, what happened, were you stressed again? He doubts you would’ve cried about sleeping in, so what was going on, why didn’t you confide in him? Did he make you uncomfortable?

“Y/n.”

“Yeah? What’s up?” You quickly answer, trying to clear the air and make it as little awkward as possible.

“What happened?” His eyes hone in on yours, his deep rooted compassion always shines through his eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asks quieter.

You would be lying if you said this didn’t make you want to cry again. “Ahh yeah I’m just so tired these days, but it’s really-“

“Nah” he breaks you off, “nah that’s not it, I’ve seen you tired, we’re classmates y/n, this isn’t like you.”

It stresses you out even more to have to talk about this and years are vèrÿ ćłôšē to spilling out. Nevertheless you mumble out, “what do you mean? It’s me, Kiri.” The pained smile you wear hurts him physically.

“No, no, y/n I can tell. What happened to you? Why are you so... sad?” He weighs his words, questions wether or not he should be saying anything at all. “You would light up a room, what happened? What made you like this?”

And bam. Wow kirishima, thanks, you have officially made y/n cry, do you feel good about yourself?

Tears slip over your cheeks and he doesn’t look up until they hit the desk. He pulls his legs together and suddenly is on his feet, “oh, oh no!!! Y/n I’m sorry, what’s wrong, hey, hey it’s okay.” Officially freaking out®

He dashes over to the back of the room to grab some tissues while he violably hits his head, ‘why did you say that??? What’s wrong with you? You made a girl cry!’ He internally yells at himself.

“Here.” He hands you some tissues and awkwardly rubs your back. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you... upset.” His feet fiddle and his knee bobs on up and down with the pitter patter of his shoes.

“No, I’m sorry, I never meant to worry anyone, I want to go back to normal, this-“ you swallow, choking on air, “this week just, just sucks.”

“Hey.” He bends his knees and balances on the balls of his feet. At your eye level, he yanks your chair towards him, pulling you in so you’re facing him. “No, don’t apologize, I want it.”

What. The. Fwak. Is you saying kirishima?

“I want you to worry me, I mean I don’t enjoy worrying about you but I want you to be comfortable with me, and tell me when your stressed or bothered by something, or when you’re excited about something or when your sad about something, it’s not a burden you know? I want it, I want you to be close to me.” ̶L̶a̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶c̶k̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶n̶’̶t̶ ̶w̶e̶

You just stare at each other, his eyes are dead serious, he doesn’t break eye contact for a second.

“Y/n?”

You look at him again, not having found your voice quite yet you simply nod.

“There is no pretending in friendship, in any relationship, y/n. We have to be honest with each other, you need to- to let others care about you, ya know? The girls were really worried, we all were, so when you feel like this you gotta tell us. Okay? Can you do that for me?”

And for the first time that week, it really was alright, it really was okay, and just like always, tomorrow was another day, and even though today wasn’t the best y/n now realized the incredible importance of her friendships, the increasing admiration for Kirishima and the growing hope for today’s tomorrow.

——————————————————————————

(Unedited) I’m not the most happy with this, I wrote it so quick because my original writing of this was deleted suddenly and I had to rewrite it and I didn’t want to forget anything, anyway, I’ll make it better in the future, hope you enjoyed it, even just a little.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

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:

“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.

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:

my-brothers-corrupted:

“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.

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.

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? 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 -

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.

[sebs-anxiety-and-insanity]

You're human?!

Zombie apocalypse au

I have a request in one of the comments and to that person I respond: your request is being done as fast as possible, I had it done but then I reread it and realized it was crap so I am rewriting it again :] the outfit above is Virgil's current outfit he is not genderbent it's just one of my favorites also this is a long one so yeah

Entry number 604:

I don't consistently write unless something big has happened. That said, I have realized something big. I haven't seen another human in roughly three years. THREE. All that remains is undead. This isn't even meant for humans anymore... Haha maybe I'm just starting to lose it... The isolation is getting to me...

Rotten, molded flesh was everywhere around him. He had forgotten the turn again! Ugh, how could he be so stupid!? He  could hear their staggering footsteps closing in, hear their groaning get louder and immersed Virgil in the pain soaked groans coming from behind. It's bizzare to think that they could be in pain while they're chasing you. Well, not really chasing you, but, eh- you get the point. Virgil looked around the alleyway (classic, right?) Looking for a place for him to escape. He looked to his left. Brick. He turned his head to the right. Stone. In front was a back of an apartment building, he could try his luck climbing? Yeah, that might work.

Virgil didn't realize how much time he actually spent thinking of a way to escape the group of Z's behind him until he heard a call from someone- a walker? No. Maybe some disembodied voice- "You're gonna let them eat you?" Virgil looked around to see a disgusting hand reach for him, and succeeding in grabbing his backpack, tugging him backwards. He could hear the voice in the back of his head? Maybe? "Shame." After his fight or flight kicked in he quickly pulled forward, making his way to the building, hearing the sound of something hitting the ground he assumed to be a Z. He quickly reached down pulling the knife he had in his boot out and started to climb the building. He got on the dumpster, struggling to stay up right with the dumpster moving beneath him. He reached up for the window sill, pulling himself up with the help of a push. The push off of the dumpster caused it to roll backwards and to the side hitting a wall. "Shit." He looks up to find the next place to grab. Taking a deep breath Virgil reached for the next window sill using a near by air conditioner as a step stool of sorts. A few seconds after his foot put it's weight on it he heard a creak. Uh oh. The air conditioner quickly fell out of the window, crushing a Z at the bottom and almost sending Virgil down with it. He managed to keep a semi good hold on the window. Virgil closed his eyes resting his forehead on the building. "C'mon, c'mon.. Whew okay Virgil you got this." He whispered before continuing his journey up.

At the second window from the roof Virgil decided to rest a moment, taking advantage of the open window. He took deep breathes, trying his best to hold on as he was reluctantly losing his grip. As he caught his breath Virgil felt chills run down his spine as he heard the most inhumane groan. He looked up, scared at what he might find. There stood a HUGE Z. No this one goes into walker. More dangerous than a Z (they are all zombies just he names them in categories-)when stuck in place. It began to walk toward him dragging his leg behind him. Virgils breath hitched. He was screwed didn't have enough time to climb past the window without the walker getting his legs, but he also couldn't get a weapon to defend himself with. He could try climbing in and then grab a weapon but that didn't seem like he could win that. No,, his best bet was to keep climbing. He grabbed the next window sill, the cuts and scrapes from the brick building he was on, burning his hand. Clenching his his eyes shut he continued to go for the roof. "Open your eyes!" A different disembodied voice said it this time. Virgil obliged and looked up to see a man. Wait, a man? As in, HUman?! "C'mon kiddo grab my hand!" Virgil stared at the out reached hand. Is he even real? Or is this man a figment of his imagination? Something made for his spiralling mind. He felt a finger glide against his boot. He wouldn't have long if he just stared. Real or not he'd rather take a chance with the guy. Virgil quickly stopped staring and grabbed the hand. The stranger Began to pull him up, and Virgil let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, until the walker grabbed his boot. Shitshitshit nonono. Gasping Virgil began to try and pull himself up more with the help of the man of course. "A little help Rem?" The man struggled to get out between grunts, obviously using all his strength to get Virgil up on the roof. "Ugh, fine!" The first disembodied voice spoke- did he say 'Rem'? Virgil was felt himself be pulled up a bit but the walker wasn't giving up and wouldnt let go. Virgil went wide eyed upon feeling the breath of the walker. "NO!" Virgil began kicking in spastic movements, kicking and flailing harder then before. Was this how he died? Delusional and alone?

One kick seemed to land or something cause Virgil felt himself being lifted with ease and sat down on the roof. "I have saved the damsel in distress again!" Virgil didn't realize he'd closed his eyes, but when he opened them he was pleasantly surprised. Three people stood before him. REAL PEOPLE! In a moment of  euphoria, and a lot of mixed feelings Virgil

Lept onto the closet person to him, clutching onto him tightly, muttering things the taller male couldn't hear. "Sweetie? Are-are you okay?" Rem, as the other male called him lightly touched Virgil's back, tapping him in a questioning manner. Virgil's heart fluttered at the nickname, and his skin buzzed and hued at the touch. Virgil coming to his senses sat up Apologizing, of course not fully to his senses as he continued to straddle Rem. "Apologies- it's just.." Virgil looks down at Rem, staring into his eyes for what felt like forever (five seconds) and then looked over to the other two, who looked as if they didn't know what to do about the situation, before looking back at Rem. "You're human?" Virgil leaned forward a tiny bit,, his hands holding him up on Rem's chest. Rem chuckled and Virgil could just explode in happiness by just feeling the vibrations of coming from his chest. Rem was real. That's all he knew. Rem wasn't from some twisted part of his head making him believe he wasn't alone. "I-i Mean- like, you're real?" Virgil looked away blushing, "As real as that pretty little face of yours sweetheart." Virgil was sure he was a tomato by now and- wait. Is he..? OHMYGODIMSTRADDLINGAREALLYHOTGUY.  Virgil quickly got up, looking over at the two strangers. "Aww." The one with glasses and curly blonde hair said. The other looked as if he would be the definition of perfection if he were a prince.

Hell most of the people here could be on most sexy guy alive or whatever that magazine was. "I'm Patton, and this is Roman!" The man-Patton enthusiasticly pointed at the main with red tipped hair. "He's super strong." Patton whispered. "And that's Remy!" Patton pointed to the hot guy getting up from the ground. "And you are?" Patton displayed a puppy face that could get someone out of death row after there wasn't a response. Virgil contemplated telling them his name, after all Virgil isn't a very good name.. "Well, sheesh! You look like my anxiety and depression demon from like 8th grade." Virgil shrunk in on himself at the remark from Roman. "Roman that's enough." Remy spoke up as he stood beside Virgil. "What? I mean this.. Look" He gestured at Virgil. "Looks to be a lot of effort! Does he try to make himself look like this in the APOCALYPSE-" Before he could stop himself Virgil hissed at Roman. Virgil slapped his hands across his mouth, shocked that he did that to a stranger. Virgil carefully looked back up to see Roman in shock, Patton whispering things like "woahhhhhhh my new son". Virgil didn't wanna look at Remy's reaction though, afraid of the look he might be given. If there is one thing to know, even when seperated from the rest of humanity, it to know that Remy gave off a different vibe then the rest. Roman gave off a 'more bark then his bite' (although he definitely could put you down) Patton  a dad vibe. And Remy the bad bitch of the apocalypse vibe, one that could end you with words. Or even just a glare. "Fuck you princey." Virgil crossed his arms. Roman looked to be glowing and Patton covered his ears. "Why thank you anxiety." Virgil glared at him. But decided not to tell his name. At least, not to Roman. "I'm good enough for Royalty! Even in the end of the world." Remy sighed. "So, what now?" He looked over to Patton, dusting his leather jacket. "Hmm, I suppose we take him with us! Maybe Lo will lemme keep him." He didn't like being compared to a pet or a piece of property but when these are the first human contact you can let it go... Once.

Okay, when hearing he might get to go to a camp with other humans- people, he didn't expect to be carried, but, Remy insisted, saying something about Patton not wanting precious cargo damaged. Virgil let himself doze on Remys back listening to the light conversation taking place between Patton and Roman. The breeze hitting Virgil was delightful and helped lure him closer to sleep. Virgil remained on that edge of sleep to where you're asleep, but you knew you were asleep and was partially awake. (Make sense? Idk it happens me-) he heard the conversation take more serious tone, "So.... Now that anxiety is asleep, what are we gonna do with him? I mean we don't know for sure if he is safe. Maybe he has been bitten.. You know somewhere hidden by those clothes." He heard a sigh presumably from Patton, "I'm sure he would've shown symptoms by now. Besides, he's adorable, right, Remy?" "He is definitely adorable-" "See!? Let's just wait and see what Logan says." Virgil tightened his grip on Remy and finally drifted off fully to sleep.

Remy nudged Virgil's head with his own, effectively waking Virgil up. "Huh? Smguhthmbi.." Remy chuckled, "before turning the corner into an abandoned looking apartment. "We're back, bitches!" A man dressed in a duster and jeans with a tie wrapped around a jar that hung from his belt, looked over at the two, eyes narrowing at Virgil, making him very aware of his position. Virgil immediately got out of Remys hold, Remy taking his arms away from Virgil so he didn't trip him. "Out, everyone, please." The man took off his glasses gesturing in his and Remys general direction. "Not you two." Virgil felt a lump in his throat, anxiety creep up his spine. Ah, how he missed this. He didn't. This was actually the only thing he didn't miss about humanity. "Now, tell me," The door shut with a soft click as everyone else had left. Leaving behind all types of supplies filling up the kitchen and various other rooms. "Why are you here?" The man walked in front of the table he was behind, leaning on it as he crossed his arms. Virgil was starting to feel panic as he didn't actually know  why he was here. "We saw him in an alley way, cornered by Zombos." Remy lifted his sun glasses letting them rest on his head. Moving over to the old kitchen counter. "He climbed up the side of a building and we just kinda keep him-" "I do not believe I was talking to you." Virgil flinched at the amount of venom oozing from  his words. "Can he even help us in some way? We have enough people to house! If he cannot pull his own weight then he can leave. Of course he would have to prove himself, he does seem weak. Having to have been carried seems strange.." His eyes squing through the glasses placed on his nose. "I-" "Has he been bitten?" Virgil had to swallow irritation from being cut off and the amount of questions coming from this stranger. To be frank, he was actually missing being alone and isolated already. "N-" "I wasn't talking to you." The man shot back, okay, now Virgil was getting really irritated. "Any sane person knows that one would lie to save their own skin. I mean, you had to be running from something to have carried that much stuff." The man gestured to his things. "Jesus, calm down! He hasn't been bit!" The man raised his brow, as if begging the question 'and you know this how?' Remy rolled his eyes. "Bitch, he would've shown symptoms by now, Einstein! Sweating, really fucking hungry, etc. Fucking hell! Leave it to Logan to make things overly dramatic." "I am merely being protective." He seethed. The man who Remy called Logan, pinched his nose sighing. "Fine! We can keep him-" "Can everyone stop fucking saying that!?" Remy and Logan stared at him in suprise. "I'm not some fucking THING you can keep! I was doing just fine without this place- yes this means, I. Don't. Need. You. Damnit I'm not something you can claim as property and I sure as HELL ain't no fucking-" Virgil threw his hands up in the air before taking a breath. "No, I don't need to prove myself to you and I won't. You don't want me here then I'll go." Virgil began to turn around to leave. "I'll gladly take another three years without people." He muttered. "Hey, I saved you." Remy reminded. "You are my responsibility and if I say you stay you stay." Remy took a step forward. "... I owe you and the other two but I don't owe him." Virgil stopped moving and stared between Logan and Remy. "He is staying with me Logan. And really how much pain can he cause I mean we have Remus." Logan paused thinking a moment. "*sigh* fine. I'll get him an outfit. But he is pulling his weight around here." "Alright!" Remy turned and started to guide Virgil towards the door. "Feels nice to have two bad bitches here." Remy smirked at Virgil as the walked. His hand floating around the small of Virgil's back as he showed him the place. Maybe having found a group of survivors wasn't so bad after all.

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

Woah that's a long one 😅

Anyways I'll work on a part 2 soon

Hope you enjoyed💜

Not proof read

Tag list {you can ask to be added or removed}:

@reiney-weather @helloidkwhatimdoing-0 @love-lemons @emo-sunshine42 @autumnpleaves @hedgiehoggles @radicalskatervirgil

[aasphyxious]

He Was Your Christmas (Osamu Miya x Reader)

Hey! Since this is my first fic, I decided to give myself time and post it near Christmas just as a present for y’all! I really hope to write more so it would be amazing if you could submit some suggestions so I can get more ideas. Anyways, since it’s my first time writing lemon it felt a bit...unusual when I was writing it. Ahaha this is really bad, I’m not proud of it at all...but enjoy it, nonetheless ♡

Masterlist (it’s empty for now :) )

Tags: Osamu x Insecure!reader, obsession, lemon with a shitty plot, rough sex, a bit of praise

Warnings: slight self-degredation, this is an insecure!reader, what do you expect??

Synopsis: Insecure y/n can’t wrap presents to save her life, Osamu tries to help...in other ways too ;)

Word Count: ≈5k

Chapter 1

You place your hands delicately on the window sill as you watch the crisp, white snowflakes flutter down from the cloudy, gray sky. You wrap your fluffy, white blanket closer around you and huddle into it and let out a deep sigh. The window fogs up from your breaths so you let out a blanketed hand to wipe it away. As you softly wipe the fog off the window, your eyes fall on a silver-haired boy in the house next to yours. You stare at his beautiful face and his shit-eating smile as he stares at his phone. Your face flushes when he suddenly lifts his eyes off the device and to your window. You quickly look away, but look back to see him waving at you. Calm down, y/n. Why’re you acting like this all of a sudden? You lift an arm out of your blanket and wave back, flashing a smile at him. He smiles back and goes back to scrolling and texting through his phone. Your ears filled with the sound of your heartbeat as you ran back to your bed and hid under your covers. Red filled your face, covering your cheeks and nose. Did the Miya Osamu just smile at you? Yes, yes he did. Still under the sheets, you extend your hand from the blanket to your side table and reach for your phone. As soon as you grab it, you open up the messaging app and immediately text your former-friends.

The BiTcHeS

You YO GUYS GUESS WHAT FJSDFSJF

Akari What ……

Hina What I’m listening

You MIYA OSAMU JUST SMILED AT ME THROUGH MY WINDOWDDFJSDFSLKFJ

Akari That’s amazing

Hina K

You Cant u guys act more  Excited

Akari We don’t even know this dude

Hina U seem to forget we’re in different schools now We have no idea what he’s like

You OK SO

...and so, you continued to go on a tangent about Miya Osamu.

The next morning, you woke up early. Eyeing your cosmetics, you grumble as you force yourself out of bed. After you wash your face, you walk to your vanity and sit in the short chair. You stare at your face in the mirror as you grab the shining foundation bottle. One stroke...two...three...four...Eventually, your face was covered in a sickeningly thick layer of make-up, covering your original face. You coated your lips in a pink-tinted lip gloss and threw on your nicest clothes as you grabbed breakfast and headed out the door.

You hug your bag close to you and take a shaky, deep breath. It was the second week you were in your new school. You moved in the middle of the year so everyone already had their friend groups and cliques. You were outcasted, not on purpose, but just by how society worked. One...two...three...four...five steps and ongoing. Counting was always a calming mechanism for you. You took a deep breath every once in a while. Twenty-four...twenty-five...twe- 

“Oi, watch where yer going!” A blonde boy stood in front of you, giving you a look as sharp as daggers. He looked down on you and your eyes widened.

“I’m so s-sorry I didn’t mean t-to-” You stammer, your eyes burning as you try to keep your tears back.

“‘Tsumu, just forget it. Ya shoulda seen her walking anyways.” Osamu gave his brother a deadpanned look and glanced at you softly. Your heart skipped a beat. You gave him a pressed smile and continued walking. The twins stood back for a few seconds and walked behind you at a considerable distance. You walked faster and faster and hid your face under your thick scarf. Your cheeks were on fire. You didn’t know whether it was because of the cold or because Miya Osamu just stood up for you. You no longer counted your steps, you daydreamed about Osamu. You daydreamed about how he smelled. How he looked with glasses. How his breath would feel against your lips. You daydreamed about how your glossy, half-lidded eyes would gaze into his and how he would return the gesture with a kiss on the forehead. Your cheeks were engulfed in a deep red once you realized what you were doing. You steadied your breathing and ran the rest of the way to Inarizaki High.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

It was time for lunch. You awkwardly sit at one of the circular tables in the corner of the cafeteria, away from the other students. You watched as different groups giggled and gossiped. You fidget and shuffle your feet together, taking small bites of food every once in a while. Your eyes wandered around the cafeteria and landed on the group of boys Osamu was in. He is in a volleyball club right? Those must be his teammates… You continued staring, just as you did in the window yesterday. You took note of the color of his eyes, the way his hair would sometimes fall in front of his eyes, how he would make eye contact with everyone at the table. You observed the way his lips would move as he talked and his rows of perfect teeth when he occasionally smiled. Everything about him was beautiful.

You eventually tore your eyes off him once you heard another group of girls giggle and stare at the twins. Their hair were in perfect curls, their lips were plump and glossy, their faces were delicate and precise. They were perfect. And they were crushing on the same man you were. You placed a hand lightly on your cheek and traced your chin with your finger. Could I be like them? Am I as pretty as them? Osamu would obviously choose them over me, right? You placed your hand on your hair, stroking the h/c strands. A glistening tear fell from your tear ducts. Your foundation ran off your cheeks, each layer being rubbed off by your own tears. You bury your face in your hands, not caring that make-up got all over your fingers. You held in your sniffles and gasps and got up to run to a bathroom stall. You wipe off your make-up and reach into your little purse to get more foundation. It was no use, your tears kept flowing. You rubbed off any make-up you had put on. Taking a deep breath in, you slowly walked out of the stall and tried to cover your face with your hands. They’re looking at me, aren’t they? You don’t peak from between your hands. You would rather see the blackness than the peering eyes all around you. The bell rang, lunch was over. You ran to your locker and recited your schedule in your head. Math. Math was next. Your face heated up and blushed just thinking about math. You tear your math notebooks out of your locker, holding them high enough to cover your mouth and down. 

As you got to the math room, Osamu already sat in his seat. He rested his head on his hand as he stared out the window. Rays of light washed over his face. His perfect nose and lips were framed by the light. His entire presence was blinding and bright. Once again, your heart skipped a beat and you found yourself staring at him again. His head turned around to meet your glistening eyes, still red and puffy from crying. Your eyes widen and you look away, taking your seat next to him. He turns to you in his seat.

“Are you okay?”

Chapter 2

“Are you okay?”

Those words rang in your head, echoing off the walls. It felt like a chant in your brain. You stood silent for a little bit. Should you answer truthfully? Should you lie? You were overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions. You were on the verge of tears but you also wanted to crack a smile. Your body had no idea how to react. 

“Y-yeah I a-am” You squeak out, your voice as soft as a mouse, turning away so he can’t see your face. He took one last look into your eyes and turned in his seat to face forward. No smile, no words of assurance, just a deep look in the eyes. 

Class started and you tried your best to focus on the teacher and what he was teaching, but you couldn’t help sneaking a few glances to Osamu. He looked just as perfect as he did before, maybe even more perfect. You smile to yourself. That simple gesture of a look to the eyes. It was so powerful. To others, it may have just been a sign of respect. But to you, it was a sign of affection. You didn’t care if that’s not what he meant to show, but you cherished it anyways. So, right there, in the middle of the class, you daydreamed again.

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

School ended and you ran out as fast as you could. Pulling your scarf over your head, you run out of the entrance and slow down once you’re on the sidewalk. You can hear a group of girls teasing each other, “Well obviously I’m not getting you a car for Christmas!” “Well duh you won’t!”

Christmas, huh? The thought of shining lights, towering evergreen trees, and wrapped presents near a fireplace gave you a smile. Your heart warmed by the thought of Christmas and its festivities. Finding yourself with a pile of presents on Christmas day made you feel grateful and enlightened. It made you feel special.

You hummed as you skipped home, no longer caring about your bare face. You were preoccupied by what you should get your former friends for Christmas. What would Akari want? Hina? I have to give them something big...no, no...If I get them something big, they’ll complain and immediately ship it back to me… You chuckle, remembering the memories you had with them every Christmas. You would meet up the day after to share what you got and give each other your presents. Every year, you take your presents and place them next to the previous years’ on your vanity. Once you moved away, you would still keep the presents on your vanity for the memories. Reaching your front door, you carefully unlock it and close it. You already start to plan what you’ll get Akari and Hina as soon as you fall face-first into your bed. Ideas run through your mind so you write down each one of them. Your mind goes off track, what if I got something for Osamu? No...all his fangirls would give him presents anyway. But would it hurt to try? You turn your head towards the window and peered into Osamu’s window. You watched him bite his lip as he did homework at his clean desk. His brows were furrowed and he tapped his pen onto the wood. You look away. Was what you’re doing wrong? Was this stalking? You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to see him. You wanted to see what he looks like when he’s happy, sad, angry. You wanted to see everything. You peek into his window again, out of love or curiosity, you didn’t know. You stared and stared in secrecy. Little did you know, he would stare too. 

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

Christmas break started. It was the best time to finally buy presents. You grab your savings from under your pile of papers in your desk and head over to the mall. You buy your presents for Akari and Hina. They were simple. Some clothes and jewelry, maybe even a few comic books and some stationary. As you head your way to the exit of the mall, you are suddenly overwhelmed by this feeling of I forgot something. Still walking towards the exit, you see a shoe store. Does Osamu like shoes? Does he need new ones? Should I even get him something volleyball related...I don’t want his twin to steal his stuff… You walk into the shoe store. The fresh smell of new shoes and shoe boxes flutter into your nose. You look around. What shoes are good for volleyball anyways? What’s his shoe size? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BUY HIM SHOES IF I DON’T KNOW HIS SHOE SIZE??? You walk out of the store and blush in embarrassment from your mistake. You need more ideas. Then it hits you. Osamu loves to cook. 

You run to the cooking store. What should you get? Pots, pans, spatulas? No, this isn’t Spongebob… Spices. You head to the spice section. The smell of spices filled the aisle. Your mouth watered at the idea of food and cooking. You were swept into a world of aroma and flavor. You chose three packages of spice and headed to the counter and paid. Your head was dizzy from all the smells. As you head your way back home, you see the twins on their way to the mall too. You blushed, WHAT DO I DO? WHERE DO I HIDE? You pull your scarf over your head and keep on walking, praying that they won’t notice you.

“Hey y/n, whatcha doing there?” Osamu says softly, only making you blush more. You unwrap the scarf from your head. Atsumu glanced at you and smiled, but looked away.

“OH...Hey Osamu, Atsumu...hahahaha! I was just heading back from the mall...” You awkwardly chuckle.

“Oh yeah, we’re heading there too...If you already didn’t buy what you needed I would’ve invited you to come with us…” Osamu spewed. Atsumu slapped him on the back and ushered him forward.

“Okay, c’mon ‘Samu let’s hurry up.” Atsumu mumbled desperately. You both continue in separate ways. You can hear Osamu cursing out his brother behind you, blushing at the fact that Osamu wanted to talk to you. Your heart was running at 100 miles per hour non-stop. Your face was flushed and you could feel heat filling up your face. You bury your face into your scarf in embarrassment and run home. After changing into your pajamas, you head to the living room and switch on the TV. You put it on the loudest volume, trying to drown out the thoughts in your head. Your mind was filled with Osamu and Osamu only. You couldn’t think of anything or anyone else. You tried to keep back your desire of just running to the mall right now, in your pajamas, and telling him your feelings right there. You didn’t care if it was in front of his brother. You didn’t care if it was even in front of the whole mall. You had to get your feelings out to him. You had to tell him someway. Somehow. If this gift you were giving him wasn’t enough to tell him your feelings, you wouldn’t know what to do. You grab a chunk of your hair, pulling it lightly and balling up your fists. You couldn’t handle the stress of not telling him. Not seeing him. Not being with him. You needed him. You needed to let your feelings out. You turn the TV off, hoping not to make your headache worse. You grab paper and a pen from your room. You write. You write love letters to him, tearing them up each time you finish one. You write and write until the pen no longer works, refusing to let out any ink. You brush your hand through your hair and wipe your tear-stained face. You couldn’t get him out of your head. You were obsessed. 

Chapter 3

Your phone’s alarm blasted off under your pillow. You groaned as you shoved your hand under your pillow and pressed the “Dismiss” button. Shuffling out of bed, you look towards the window. Light was pouring in, bathing your room in an ethereal glow. You smile as you watch the dust flutter around your room under the light. You take one last look to the window and look into Osamu’s window. The light flooded into his room too, washing him in a light that only made him more beautiful. He was delicately and carefully wrapping presents, and he was pretty good at it too. You watched as he sat on his desk, carefully folding and cutting the wrapping paper over the presents, occasionally ripping a piece of tape and placing it on his table to use for the next present. You look away as you realize you need to wrap presents too. You go about your daily routine and run back up to your room. You grab the bag of gifts, wrapping paper, and tape next to your desk and sit in your chair. You take a big sheet of paper and cut it so you have enough to work with. You place a box, containing your gifts to Akari, in the middle of the paper. Is this how you do it? Every year you go through the same thing. No matter how many YouTube videos or people teach you how to wrap presents, you could never do it. You always had someone do it for you. Nevertheless, you tried again. You always got one fold wrong, or you cut too little, or the overall end-product looked disgusting. You cursed at yourself for still not being able to wrap presents.  You turn back to your window and peer into Osamu’s, hoping to see how he wraps them. But he was already finished. And he was staring at you.

Your eyes widen and you blush profusely. Was he watching you struggle to wrap presents this whole time? You stammer, “I-it’s not what it looks like,” but realize he probably can’t hear you. You hear a slight cracking noise, Osamu opened his window. You get up and do the same. He rests his head on one hand on the window sill.

“You can’t wrap presents?” He chuckles, using his other arm to point to the failure of a wrapped present on your desk. You blush and cross your arms.

“No matter how many times I try, I can never seem to do it!”

“Do you want me to help ya?”

You widen your eyes and nod your head. “S-so, how are we gonna do this…” You stutter, half-chuckling.

He puts his hands flat on the window sill and rests his head on them. “Should I come over?”

Your heart, that was already beating 100 times a second, beat even faster. Your face gets redder and you avert your eyes to the side, breaking your eye contact.. “S-sure I guess.” You watch him get up and close the curtain. You close your window and stand in front of your front door, waiting. After a few minutes, you hear someone walk up to the door and ring the bell. You meekly unlock the door and let him in. He towered over you, sweetly smiling at you from above. You tremble and blush under him, his sweet smile doing anything but calm you down. You return a smile and lead him towards your room. Miya Osamu is in my room. Mine?!? I-  You welcome him in and encourage him to sit somewhere. He sits on your bed and brushes his hand over the blankets, admiring how clean your room was. You blushed as you sat in your chair and squeaked out, “S-so...uh...are you gonna help me?”

“O-oh, yeah.” He stammered as he got up. Is he nervous too? You thought. He kneeled down on his knees behind you. You tensed up in your chair, shuffling your feet and fidgeting. He reached his arms around you and you started to wrap the presents. “No, no! You fold this here so you can fold it here too!” He critiqued. You did as he said. He continued to tell you what you were doing wrong and how each step flowed into the next one. The way he explained it stuck in your head. You understood what he meant and how to use the thin paper to your advantage. You notice his beautiful hands. Veiny and bony in all the right places. You notice how they wrapped around your arms in an affectionate manner, guiding you. Eventually, you ended with a beautiful, wrapped present. He grabbed a bow on your desk and ripped the paper on the bottom off, revealing the adhesive. He stuck right on top of the present and whispered, “Perfect.” into your ear. You felt your face get warm. He placed his chin on your shoulder and turned his head to kiss your neck softly. Your stomach was doing somersaults as you turned your head a bit to the side so he had more access to your neck. His lips brushed over your neck as he placed kisses, slowing tracing up to your jaw, and eventually your lips. Your heart was beating non-stop when he turned to face in front of you. His lips grazed against yours, his eyes looking deeply into your e/c ones. You closed your eyes when you felt his lips press against yours softly. You moaned into his mouth at the sudden gesture. The kiss suddenly became heated when you felt his tongue enter your mouth. You open your mouth a bit more when his tongue begins exploring the inside of your mouth into every crevice. When you were just about to return it, he suddenly pulled away. “Baby, why don’t you go on the bed for me.” He hummed. You blushed, your face an unbelievable shade of red. You sat on your bed and layed down slowly. Self-consciously, you huddle and hug your body. Osamu was on top of you. Pure love and lust was in his expression. You blushed and looked away. He bent down and whispered, “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“N-no I want t-to!” You squeal, looking back into his eyes.

“Then why are you covering up?” He teased. You looked at him with furrowed brows and confidently spread out your arms and legs under him. Your confidence wasn’t very long lasting until he whispered, “That’s not what I meant by covering up, baby.” You widen your eyes and slowly start taking off your top. You realize you weren’t wearing anything under this. You hesitate until Osamu eggs you on with his desperate eyes. You continue taking off your top, revealing your smooth, perky breasts. “Mmm? You didn’t even wear anything under even though I was coming over!” Osamu took no time to start playing with them. He kneaded your boobs with his hands, looking carefully at you to see your reactions. He brushes his thumb over your hard nipple, giving you a soft look.

“O-Osamu…” You whine. He goes crazy as he feels his erection get harder with every moan you let out from your lips. He leans down and starts sucking on your nipples, using his other hand to stimulate the other one. He loved the way you would squirm under him. He loved how you would press your thighs together from the stimulation. He pulls off your nipple with a soft pop and starts kissing down your body, starting from your sternum to your belly. With each kiss, he whispered soft praise, “You’re so beautiful...so perfect...I love you…” It didn’t take him long to get to the waistline of your pants. Osamu looks up at you, asking for permission. You lightly nod. He swiftly pulls down your soft, silk pants to reveal your equally soft and silky legs. You were a blushing mess in front of him, just how he wanted it. He lightly opened up your thighs, your pulsating pussy just in front of his nose. You shut your eyes when he suddenly licks your folds in one broad stroke. 

“Oh~ It feels so good!” You scream as his tongue explores your folds and clit. He smiles, biting your clit a bit.  He releases his grasp on one of your thighs and shoves one of his fingers into your tight hole. You squirm as your slick seeps out of your hole and folds.

“Mmm~ You taste so good,” Osamu praised. Your face was red and your clit was swollen. He licked and slurped. You couldn’t handle the feeling anymore. You loved the feeling of his tongue filling your hole. You loved the way he would occasionally nibble at your clit. You rub your heat into his face, desperate for more stimulation. Osamu pushed his fingers in harder, faster. You could feel a knot in your stomach form. 

“I’m coming!” You scream as your wetness gushes into his mouth and chin. As he rose from your pussy, you could see your slick dripping from his mouth and chin and all over his fingers. You were about to tease him until he suddenly smashed his lips into yours so you could taste your own slick. When he pulled away you were flushed.

“You taste good, don’t you think?” He sings. Your thick blush gets redder. Seriously, how much redder could you get? You eyed the tent in his pants. You mischievously push him over. With your newfound confidence, you straddle him and pull his shirt off. You looked at his toned and sculpted muscles. I mean, what would you expect from a volleyball player anyways? You palmed his clothed member under your slit. Pulling down his pants carefully, you continue rubbing his cock. He moaned lightly, covering his mouth with his palm. You bend down, rubbing your hand up and down his long, thick cock. You could tell he was blushing, even though his hand was covering his face. You bend your head near his long cock. Would that even fit in me? You think as you start placing kisses all over the base and tip of his member. After an excruciating length of time of just teasing him, you finally put the tip in your mouth. Osamu struggled in not jolting up and forcing you to take his whole cock in your mouth. He softly places a hand on your hair and grabs a chunk. He leads your head down on his cock carefully. You gag when your lips touch the base of his cock. “Oh fuck, y/n” He groans. IIt was hard to breathe and you could feel drool and spit pool in your mouth. It was so hard to keep your gag reflex back when you slid your mouth back to the tip and down again. Your eyes teared up as his cock hit the back of your throat, your gags vibrating through his member. You force yourself to go back up and down, balling up your fists. Osamu took his hand off his mouth and lowly moaned. “Oh, baby. Just like that. I’m gonna cum soon.” You went faster and faster upon hearing those words. You could feel his cock start to twitch in your mouth as thick, white cum seeped onto your tongue. You let the warm fluid slip down your throat, opening your mouth to let Osamu see your empty tongue. “Good girl,” he teases. 

In a split second, he’s on top of you, his member rubbing against your wet pussy. You moan, the feeling of his spit-covered cock rubbing and slapping against your clit was already too much for you. He finally lined his cock up with your aching hole. You swallow your spit and drool when he suddenly pushes his full cock into you. You scream, tears filling your eyes. Osamu couldn’t hold back anymore. His instincts were telling him to ram into you mercilessly, so that’s what he did. He needed the feeling of you clamping around his cock. He needed to hear your screams and moans. He needed to smell your juices seeping out of your pussy. He needed you. He needed ALL of you. 

To you, it hurt. But it was a good hurt. It felt so amazing. The feeling of him filling you up. The feeling of you squeezing around his cock. The feeling of tears filling your eyes to the brim. You loved it. You loved him. You try to count each thrust, one, two, three, but he was slamming into you so quickly, it was beyond impossible. You focused on the amazing feeling of being close to your orgasm, the sounds of skin slapping as he shoved his member into you, the scent of his and your cum...everything. You could feel a knot in your stomach form again. Curses and praises fell from your lips, it was a chorus of “fuck, Osamu!” “so good, Osamu!” Him hearing your whines only caused him to push into you harder and faster as you fell into your orgasm. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck” was all Osamu could breathe out. You spasmed under him as your juices gushed out of your ravaged pussy. Osamu pulled out and gave his member a few pumps before cumming on your stomach and breasts. You moan just from the feeling of his warm cum covering your body. You use a finger to scoop a bit off and lick it seducingly. Osamu, flustered, stands up from the bed and grabs a few tissues from your desk, carefully wiping the rest of his cum off your body. You count each stroke of the tissue, calming yourself down. .

He plops down next to you in your bed, placing your arms around you in a sweet embrace. You could feel his warm breath against you, an overwhelmingly warm feeling rushing to your heart. You counted every time he exhaled against you. Every beat of his heart. Every bat of his eyelashes. He was with you. He thought you were special and beautiful and everything in between. He loved you. He was a gift. He was your gift. 

He was your Christmas.

Fin.

© all writings belong to aasphyxious 2020. do not repost or change.

[naplunamod]

primrose  (an itaxsaku fic)

This was for a gift exchange in an itasaku server i was in...my prompt was “That doesn’t mean what you think it means.”  here’s hoping that whoever’s prompt i got will see this  (sorry it’s late i got caught up with taking summer classes)

Men were dense.

Uchiha men unbelievably so. Or at least that's what she thought at first.

So when Sakura received her first bouquet of flowers from Itachi Uchiha, a beautiful mixture of blue salvias, pansies, pink camellias with a single creamy white lily in the middle of it, for her official graduation as Tsunade's apprentice, she smiled and blushed while taking it but ultimately thought nothing of it. After all men were strange and Itachi Uchiha was perhaps the strangest of them all.

The second time Sakura received flowers from Itachi Uchiha, if you could even consider them flowers, just so happened to be after a particularly hard death. She was 6 years old. Eyes as clear and unique as the twilight sky they reminded her of...at least when they weren't darkened to a deep purple with pain. Lady Tsunade tried to warn her. There were just some things medical chakra (which speeds up cell division to produce new healthy cells) couldn't heal. She should have listened. So when there were no more sweet smiles, no more ringing laughter, no more soft pleas for “Pleeeeease just one more story and I promise i'll go to sleep Sakura Onee-chan pretty pretty please with frosting on top”, Sakura was an emotionally devastated wreck (it came with wearing your heart on your sleeve). So when she saw the small aloe vera plant sitting so innocently on her window sill the next morning with his perfect scrawling handwriting on an even smaller card, she got angry. Was he mocking her? Giving her a plant that promoted healing, with an angry grief stricken cry the aloe had a new home against her wall. But, just like her, the next day the aloe was back in her window in it's small broken pot now glued back together with a small thank you written in messy doctor's script. That afternoon Tillian (or Tilli as Naruto and Ino would come to know her) gained a window buddy a golden pothos by the name of Balthazar (courtesy of Kakashi-sensei. It was cute in a weird sort of way).

These in her opinion strange but thoughtful and hey what girl didn't like to receive flowers every now and then occurrences continued to happen for a while. A daffodil here, an iris there whether it was a special occasion or not. Most of the time they were left on her doorstep or windowsill with just his name and no explanation. And never a bouquet, not since that first time,  just a single flower in a small vase or with a cute ribbon tied around it.

The first time he actually spoke to her was on her 21st birthday. Because  she had an early shift the next day and totally NOT because a certain ramen obsessed ninja begged her and threatened to tell a certain Ino-pig that she wanted a big blow out party until she gave in she found herself at a small celebration at Ichiraku. Naruto was going on about he and Sasuke's latest mission which ended up with Sasuke waist deep in muck and him dangling upside down from above while being attacked by the migratory birds they were sent to capture and relocate. Naruto was wildly and animatedly getting to the best part (his words and not her own), evidently one of the male birds took a liking to the back of Sasuke's head a little too much his resulting shudder and grumbled “It wasn't THAT funny dobe” made it all the funnier though she'd never say that out loud when they were interrupted by Itachi's soft and smooth “Sakura-San”. Somewhat surprised she smiled and returned his greeting. “Itachi-San. What brings you by?” Both Sasuke and Naruto seemed to be taken aback by Itachi's soft smile shot her way though she really had no idea why. Sure he was a little bit emotionally repressed but no more so than Sai.

If Itachi was uncomfortable with the sudden attention he was getting from Sasuke and Naruto he didn't show it. “I heard from a little black birdie that I might find you here for your birthday.”

Sakura hummed not surprised at all at that bit of information though she did make a mental note to put said curly-haired black birdie on bedpan duty for a week. Shisui may be an Uchiha in name but he was just about as gossipy as some of the younger nurses in the hospital and last thing she needed was rumors being started. Still she nodded to Itachi “Yeah I didn't want anything big so I decided to have dinner with the boys.”

Itachi nodded to them as if seeing them for the first time “Ototo, Naruto-kun... I don't mean to intrude I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday and to give you these.”

Sakura gently took the small bouquet he held out to her. “It's beautiful...thank you Itachi-san”. Much smaller than the first this one contained only a few simple flowers. A few magenta zinnias, a few gardenias and a red carnation framed by some smilax vines.

Itachi dipped his head “Ah.  I will take my leave then. Enjoy your meal Sakura-san. Ototo, Naruto-kun.”  Just as quickly as he appeared he was gone.

Sighing softly Sakura could feel their stares at the back of her head effectively ruining the mood. “What?” she turned to her two brothers in arms.

“What was that about??” Naruto pointed story forgotten.

“Ah...are you and my brother dating?” If it were anyone but Sasuke she would swear there was a hint of jelousy in his voice...then again it was Itachi he was asking about so it probably was.

Shrugging Sakura looked at the two of them “No we're not dating. He was just being nice it is my birthday after all.” Not that she should have to explain herself to them but really they were reading too much into a kind gesture. At their disbelieving looks she frowned “Look...Naruto remember last year when Itachi-san got you those special kunai for your birthday? And don't even get me started on how he practically buys out every tomato in the village for Sasuke's. Presents are expected to be given for your birthday. He's just being nice. Nothing more.”

More time passed and things continued on in the same manner. Sakura realized that soon she would need to start drying out and preserving her flowers because she was beginning to run out of room and even though it only used the most minimal amount of chakra to keep them fresh and beautiful eventually even that wears on you. Vowing to herself that after her shift she'd stop by the Yamanaka flower shop to grab a flower scrap book it would soon be forgotten for now. It would also lead to the first time in a few months that Sakura wouldn't receive flowers for a while. For when she reached her office one of the newly graduated nurses was waiting for her at her office door. His name was Tsukishima Kei, only a few years younger than her he was already well on his way to becoming head nurse. With his short messy blonde hair, honey colored brown eyes, and physic that despite not being a shinobi shows that he takes time to keep in shape it was really no wonder he was popular among the female patients however, he was surprisingly well liked with the kids. He could almost rival Shisui in the looks department though unlike Shisui his bedside manner could use some work. Nodding in greeting to him Sakura let him into her office after he asked to speak with her for a moment. Fifteen minutes later Tsukishima left her office and Sakura found herself with a date that Saturday evening. Ino was positively excited although Sakura got the distinct air of disappointment once she told Ino who it was she was going out with. But Ino didn't tell so she didn't ask. Sakura also vaguely wondered why Ino didn't comment on the bounty of flowers dotting her apartment everywhere... with the way she absolutely refused to let Sakura pick out her own clothes or do her own hair. But she had to admit when Ino finished she looked absolutely radiant. Tsukishima thought so too earning him a pretty blush as she looped her arm through his with a wave to Ino not to wait up. She never even noticed Ino's frown or the purple aster and another blue salvia sitting by her doorstep, carefully brought in by Ino upon her leaving. She did notice however a few weeks into dating Tsukki at his insistence she found it kinda cute that he wanted her to call him by the same nickname he best friend did... that the flowers had stopped. It made her feel weird and not in a good way. Did Itachi somehow know they were dating? And why did it matter so much? A week later much to her relief, perhaps with the uptick of missions he didn't have time to leave her any Sakura found a small bundle of yellow flowers on her desk. A yellow carnation, a yellow hyacintha, a marigold, and a yellow rose lay neatly on her desk tied up in a yellow ribbon. Smiling fondly albeit a little confused that they weren't in a vase like usual she pulled out a beaker and filled it with water for the flowers and placed them on the corner of her desk. Two months into dating Tsukki they decided mutually to break it off. While they found that they challenged each other intellectually they both agreed that that certain romantic spark just wasn't there. Sakura also realized that deep down some part of her was almost happy at the turn of events because she hadn't received any more flowers from Itachi since the yellow ones and she was 90% sure he knew she was dating someone despite she and Tsukki's efforts to keep it secret. It was weird how the thought of not getting more flowers from him, despite them rarely talking or seeing each other bothered her more than breaking up with Tsukki. It also didn't hurt that she noticed the longing glances that he shared with the new doctor, she believed his name was Tetsuro Kuroo and even teased him about them laughing at Tsukki's sputtering blush. It wasn't until Ino decided to visit one afternoon for lunch that Sakura realized that there might indeed be something to the flowers she had been receiving. It was a few days after her breakup honestly she never knew how Ino found out these things about her personal life so fast and Sakura agreed under the condition that they had lunch in her office because she was on duty today and on call for the next few days to which Ino readily agreed. As usual for their lunch dates they talked about their days what they had been doing since last seeing each other to her surprise Ino had started a tentative relationship with Sai of all people. Naturally talking about her own budding relationship Ino asked her friend about her own to which Sakura explained about she and Tsukki's mutual break up. And while she didn't seem too upset about it Ino still felt the need reply because at this rate the biggest fish was likely to swim away.

“Cheer up forehead. You know how that old cliche saying goes there are plenty of other fish in the sea.” She gauged her friend's reaction.

Sakura hummed not committally into her food “I don't know pig. The general consensus has not been in my favor. Aside from Tsukki nobody has shown any interest in me.”  

Ino could have.... wanted to slap her forehead. She knew Sakura could be a bit stubborn...still watching her friend closely she wondered if Sakura even knew with a mental sigh and eye roll (really and she though men were difficult but this also was Sakura she was talking about) “Those flowers on your desk seem to suggest otherwise.” she said dryly with a wave to the still living bundle.

Sakura looked up from her food with a raised eyebrow. “What are you talking about pig?” Those are just flowers....arn't they?

Ino did sigh out loud this time leave it to Sakura to forget the first thing they learned in kunoichi class. “If you don't know I'm not going to tell you.” She stood and grabbed her things but was sastified when Sakura got that look that she got when trying to puzzle something out. “Tell you what. Because I'm such an awesome friend...” she flipped her long hair behind her back earning an eyeroll from Sakura “...stop by the shop after your shift and I'll give you a hint. And bring those with you.” She nodded at the yellow flowers on her way out.

Sakura sighed as she settled into her couch notebook and scrap book in one hand, the book Ino let her borrow the night before “The Kunoichi's Kado” and a fresh hot cup of tea ready to do what she was best known for...research. She supposed if Ino went through all of this trouble she could at least give it a try though she was fairly confident that nothing would come of this. Especially after finding a new set of flowers on her windowsill this morning, a clovenlip toadflax, a moss rosebud and a spider flower. At least that had been her mindset when she started this little project hours earlier. But...she couldn't deny the evidence right in front of her and maybe realized it a lot sooner if she had continued on with her kunoichi classes.

Blue salvia -  I think of you

pansy – love and admiration

iris -  a message

pink camellia – longing for you

white lily – purity

aloe vera – grief He was grieving with her she realized looking over to Tillie

golden pothos – perseverance

daffodil - you're the only one

magenta zinnias – lasting affection

gardenia – secret love

red carnation – admiration, my heart aches for you

smilax – loveliness

purple aster – kindness, gentleness, wisedom

yellow carnation – jealousy

yellow hyacintha – jealousy

marigold – jealousy

yellow rose – jealousy

Sakura sighed at this though she supposed she couldn't blame him. She'd be jealous if she saw her crush going out with someone else as well. That also explained the lack of flowers.

Clovenlip toadflax – please notice my feelings for you

moss rosebud – confession of love

spider flower – elope with me hopefully he meant go out with him Sakura wasn't sure if she was ready for marrage just yet.

All this time Itachi had been plainely or not so plainely stating his feelings for her and she never realized. Though in a way it made sense not being able to express himself outwardly he expressed himself in the only way he really knew how. And she never noticed. She had to go see him right away. She had to know. Had to let him know.

Sasuke raised an eyebrow at his pink haired teammate who currently was huffing like she had sprinted across the village which is exactly what she did she needed to train more with her boys if she's this winded from a little sprint.

“S...Sasuke is Itachi home? I need to talk to him.”

Sasuke's eyebrow rose even higher “Hn... he just left for a mission with his team about 10 minutes ago. His team moves pretty fast but if you hurry you might be able to catch him.”  Sakuke watched as her whole body seem to deflate meaning she likely wasn't going to go after him. Especially when he saw her worrying her lip with indecision “Look...his team is fast and effiecent. He should be gone for maybe three days. If that long. You could always just tell him when he gets back.” He leaned aganst the doorway still watching her.

“Y...yeah you're right. I wouldn't want him to not be focused on the mission. And I just might need a little more time to think myself.”

“Let me guess. You found something out and made a rash decision?” Sasuke smirked.

Sakura narrowed her eyes “How long?”

“Since your birthday for sure.”

“And you didn't say anything?” she asked incredulously.

Again Sasuke shrugged “Wasn't my place.”

“Ass...” Sakura muttered hating to admit that  he was right. No matter how frustrating it was knowing that she wouldn't be getting any answers rigtht away. But perhase it was for the best. A relationship with Uchiha Itachi wasn't something she could or should just jump into. “And you're ok with this?”

“At least I'm a good  looking one.” Sasuke retorted  earning himself an eye roll and a punch to the shoulder. “Besides. I'd rather it be you than any of his fangirls.”

Something wasn't right. Sakura could feel it like a second skin clinging to her rousing her from her sleep long before the Anbu arrived at her window. Call it a 7th sense if you will that medics tended to develop. She was already half way dressed when she heard the familiar tapping at her window.

“The Hokage requires your assistance. Several recon teams have come in severely injured and in critical condition.”  

Grabbing several soilder pills for herself no doubt in her mind she'd need them tonight they were both gone in a flash. What greeted Sakura was nothing short of complete chaos. Rolling her sleeves up she dived into the fray. Nobody would be dying tonight if she could help it.

Beep...

Beep....

Beep.......

Itachi groaned blindly reaching out to turn off that incessant beeping from his alarm. His entire body was sore all over and all he wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. His brow furrowed as his brain struggled to connect the dots. there shouldn't be an alarm clock going off he should still be out in the field....His eyes shot open and he sat up a little too quickly causing the world of sterile white around him to swim. Just how long was he out? He looked around the room once his vision cleared at least he was in a Konoha hospital which means he and his team had made it back...or close enough for someone to find them and bring them back. Laying back against his pillows he turned his head intending to get some more rest before he was undoubtedly bombarded with friends, family and the Hokage once they all knew he was awake when he saw evidence of someone already having visited. He chuckled softly to himself and closed his eyes. On the night stand was a black and red vase....it's contents a jonquil, a white jasmine and a single sakura branch. Returned affections and willingness respectively the thought of Sakura was willing to give them a try filled him with a nervous sort of warmth as he sank back into the bed tiredness once again over taking him. It  took a while, and admittedly he was worried but it seems that in the end he shouldn't have.

[bts-babyjoonie]

Potion Witch- Namkook AU CH1

Pairing: Namjoon X Jungkook

Tags:  M for mature, Witch Jungkook x Witch Namjoon, fluff, clumsy Namjoon, eventual smut

Word count: 1,676

Summary: Namjoon is a potion making witch. He's also very clumsy and prone to making mistakes. Probably not the best thing when your job is to handle delicate substances. Every two weeks Namjoon goes into town with a wagon full of his potions. He delivers them to his buddy and closest business partner Jungkook. Lately, Jungkook has been having trouble falling asleep so he turns to Namjoon to make him a sleep remedy. Of course, Namjoon agrees and makes it for him, but he accidentally mixes up the potions and gives Jungkook the wrong one. The next thing he knew, Jungkook was a bunny.

 He’s done it now hasn't he….

Namjoon was a clumsy witch. Which was not something to aw at considering the fact he was a potion maker. It was a very delicate process and a long-limbed creature such as himself would need to be extra cautious.

Namjoon made his potions in his own cabin home located in an isolated part of the dark forest. The human villages were terrified of what horrible things lay imbibed deep, but as a witch, Namjoon did not mind. When his potions were ready he would stack them up on a wagon and make a trip to town where his good witch friend Jungkook lived. None of the humans there knew Jungkook was a witch of course. He owned a hidden magic shop in the middle of the large town. It was hidden from all non-magic users.

Aside from being close friends, Namjoon and Jungkook were also great business partners. The reason for his weekly trip to town was to bring Jungkook the potions he ordered. Jungkook would tell him what he needed and Namjoon would go home and conjure up a batch. All for a price of course.

One calm morning, a day before Namjoons bi-weekly trip to town, a crow landed on his bedroom window. The loud caw startled him awake and he frantically turned his head towards the sound. It was the ebony bird perched on the window sill with a letter between its beak. Namjoon sighed in relief. It was just a messenger crow. Jungkook had most likely sent it to him. Perhaps he needed another potion added to tomorrow's delivery. He got out of his cozy bed and scuttled over to his window. Namjoon tried his best to gently open it, but the house was so old that it got stuck not even halfway. He tugged on it a bit harder and the window rolled up so quickly that it crashed into the top startling the poor crow.

“O-oh I’m so sorry little birdie, forgive me”, Namjoon apologized. The crow seemed annoyed but it did not mind him. The dark bird let the letter fall into the large palms of Namjoon's hands and flew away. Namjoon sighed, he didn't get to feed the crow the seeds he had been storing from the times he went foraging. He opened up the letter that was sealed with a red wax stamp and on it was a message from Jungkook.

Dear Joon,

I apologize for getting this to you so late but I have a request to make.

I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately and I was wondering if you

could brew me a sleep potion. It would be much obliged and I’ll make sure

To pay you a good sum as always.

Sincerely, Jungkook.

Namjoon did not mind at all. Jungkook was the first person to make him feel welcome in the area and besides, he thought the younger witch was cute.

Since he didn't have anything else to do for the day he got started on Jungkook's request. He added dry lavender, chamomile flowers, oats, and a couple of other ingredients into the boiling pot. Before long it was done; so he bottled it and placed it beside tomorrow's delivery. He wasn’t paying much attention when he set the bottle down to another one of a similar hue. The next morning Namjoon rounded up all the bottles and carefully put them in crates. He loaded the crates onto his wagon and walked over to his horse to feed him an apple before leaving. The trip to town was about 30 minutes and it wasn't long before Namjoon had arrived at the magic shop. Jungkook heard the sound of the wagon wheels approaching so he left the shop to go and help Namjoon out.

“Morning Joon, you got what I asked for?”, Jungkook asked. “Yes I sure do, let me take these crates inside and I'll hand it to you then”. Namjoon swung his leg over the horse's body and hopped down onto the cobblestone road. Jungkook grabbed one of the wooden crates in the back and Namjoon grabbed the other. The door to the shop was closed but with just a wave of Jungkook's index finger, it slowly crept open. Inside the store were walls and walls filled with interesting Knick knacks, magical books, and of course potions of many colors. Green ivy grew in the cracks and crevices of the stone wall and spread over some of the shelves. Small objects like teacups and paper cranes floated in the air and led up the stairs to the area where the more powerful and dangerous items were stored.

Namjoon always stared in awe every time he entered the store. The vibe of it all was something else. “You can set those on that table, I’ll organize them soon”, Jungkook suddenly spoke, interrupting the silence. Namjoon almost dropped the crates. He was always a bit jittery when it came to Jungkook.

He set the crates on the wooden table. Usually, it would carry items for sale but today it was empty. Namjoon set the crate of potions onto the table next to where Jungkooks placed his. Jungkook yawned loudly and it reminded Namjoon of the bottle he needed to give him. He went over to the crate and grabbed the potion with the dark blue hue.

“Here Jungkook, I have the remedy to your sleeping problems”, Namjoon said while handing the bottle over to him. He smiled upon receiving it and Namjoon’s heart swelled at the sight.

“Oh, by the way, you should probably take this with some tea. I made it pretty potent so you could have some leftover for other times. All you have to do is add four drops into a cup of tea and tonight you will have a restful slumber”, Namjoon explained.

“Then… would you like to have a cup of tea with me Namjoon?”.

Namjoon nodded with a shy smile, his dimples showing on his cheeks.

“Alright follow me into the back, we can have our tea in my kitchen”.

Namjoon followed Jungkook behind the register and into a room hidden by a curtain of vines.

Inside was a daint little kitchen. The cabinets were a sage green color and the floor was a dark cedar wood just like in the shop.

“Please, take a seat at the table. I’ll go make the tea. Would you like mint or black?”, Jungkook asked. “Mint would be nice”, Namjoon said softly. Jungkook smiled and went over to the ceramic jar where he kept his mint tea. Namjoon looked to the corner of the room where the round table was. There were only two chairs but it was perfect. Namjoon took a seat and a couple of minutes later Jungkook came over with the tea. He placed the blue and white teacup in front of Namjoon and put some biscuits in the middle of the table.

“I have your payment in my room I’ll go and get it real quick”, said Jungkook already turning his body to head into the other room.

“Wait!”, said Namjoon. “You don’t have to pay me. It’s not like you’ll be selling it to others so you can think of it as a favor”, he grinned. Jungkook stared at namjoons crescent moon eyes and softly smiled.

“Are you sure Joon? I really don’t mind paying you for this”.

“Yes I’m sure, just take it as a gift”.

Jungkook sat down at the table with Namjoon and pulled out the sleeping potion. He unscrewed the top and held it over his teacup letting exactly four drops fall in. Jungkook looked at Namjoon for reassurance and he urged him on. He brought the teacup up towards his face and placed his soft rosy lips onto the edge of the cup. He took a few sips and placed the cup back down.

“Wow, N-namjoon it’s a little *ahem* s-spicy isn’t it?”. Jungkook coughed from the discomfort he felt in his throat.

“S-spicy? It shouldn’t be spicy”, Namjoon said concern laced in his voice.

Blue smoke started emitting from Jungkook’s body and the boys grew more and more worried by the second.

“Um, Joon what the hell is going on right now?! What did you put in this?”, Jungkook gasped. It was getting harder to breathe. It felt as if his body was beginning to fold into itself.

“I p-put in all the ingredients a sleep potion needed! I don’t know w-why it’s reacting this way!”

“Well think!”, Jungkook yelped.

Namjoon put his brain to work for a moment trying to remember if he had added another ingredient that could’ve caused this reaction when all of a sudden realization dawned upon him. That’s not a sleep potion that a transfiguration potion! His careless self gave Jungkook the wrong potion!

“O-okay don’t freak out Jungkook I know what’s happening right now”, Namjoon reassured the younger boy.

“Don’t freak out?!  IM FREAKING OUT NAMJOON”.

The smoke was getting thicker and it seemed like Jungkook was getting smaller. Namjoon knew what was happening. This was a transfiguration potion Jungkook had asked for that turns the user into their spirit animal. The problem is Namjoon made the potion extra strong, as per request. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get his friend out of this dilemma. God he should really stop going off of the colors of potions to identify them. Sometimes he had too much faith in himself.

The smoke stopped rising and as it dissipated Jungkook was nowhere to be seen.

“Umm, Jungkook? Where’d you go?”, Namjoon called.

“I’m on the stupid chair”, said a small high pitched voice.

Namjoon stepped away from his seat and looked under the table only to see a small bunny huddled where Jungkook had previously been sitting. He was completely covered in black fur and his eyes had that familiar dark shine.

Jungkook had turned into a bunny.

“I’ve done it now”, whispered Namjoon.

a/n: First fic on Tumblr woohoo! Not sure how many chapters there will be but we’ll see I guess :D.